#i am without a doubt the 6am friend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

planetsano · 3 years

Text

prince charming.

SYNOPSIS ♡ after months of being in a relationship that felt too good to be true, you find out that eren yeager is the danger you craved in your life all along.

WARNINGS ♡ dark content, 🔞, organized crime, mob boss!eren, mentioned homicide, blood, gunplay, fear play, heavy drug use (coke), impact play, choking, male masturbation, spit, virginity loss, good girl meets bad boy, (light) corruption, set over 7 to 9 months.

PAIRING ♡ eren yeager x f! reader.

WC ♡ 10.4K (no beta read).

“Inspired by the fear of being average,” was always a saying (Name) never truly grasped the concept of. Her life was: Vanilla. Ordinary. Routine. Expected. It was all she knew, and she was happy with that. What was so awful about just being.. normal? She didn’t get it. If anything, living a normal life is underrated to be very frank. The domesticity and mundaneness of it all should be romanticized and appreciated rather than shamed; there's nothing that can replicate it. It’s beautiful in a way— it's like the feeling of sitting in a car in complete silence watching the rain hit the tinted windows after a quick trip to a burger place having finished the laundry for the week. The smell of the fast food sitting in the front seat mixing with the fresh linen in the back seat. It feels familiar, like peace.

Even in her adolescence she never really caused a fuss. A good girl in the simplest of terms. (Name) was always on time for school, came home at the same time everyday, never even a minute late for dinner. She went to bed at the same time and woke up at 6AM to do it all over again without fail. It was all painfully bland compared to what other teenagers her age were getting involved with during the time. What others were doing never swayed her. If there was one thing that stood out about (Name), it was that she had a good head on her shoulders— not giving into peer pressure as so many young people fall victim to.

(Name) had a small group of quiet friends, all of which she could count on a single hand. Boys were an incredibly low priority. Parties were never really on her agenda either as she’d rather focus on her studies and the thought of touching alcohol or any kind of drug was extremely off putting. She never judged those who did partake but she made sure to be as far away as possible from that scene. It all did her well though, she managed to graduate in the top of her class in high school and got into her university of choice. Nothing changed going to college. She only became more self aware— blatantly aware that she wasn't anything special. There was a part of her, bigger than she’d like to admit, that wondered what exactly she was missing. (Name) often found herself daydreaming about various scenarios of what could be if she had been a little more.. out there. Parties, adventures, boys— she wondered what it was all like but unfortunately, she never got the chance to find out. As quickly as college came, it was over and left her with many regrets. There was too much time spent on doubt, routine and her own stubbornness to actually fall through with her selfishness and desires. Now (Name) is in her early 20’s and never experienced something as simple as going to a real party or having a fling with a guy.

But you know what? Sure, she didn’t have the flashiest or most exciting lifestyle but she was content with everything she had… right? After her degree, she built everything she had from the ground up-- her own boss running her own little flower shop tucked in the vast array of shops in the bustling city.

There wasn’t a single “interesting” thing about her— or at least that’s what her perception was before she met Eren.

“Right now, I am alone. But soon I will be in your arms.” - 5:15 PM.

The warm golden tones from the setting sun bled through the shop’s windows beautifully. Everything seemed to be perfectly sound. The tiny specks of dust danced in the warm sunlight as the soft bustle of the city came from outside. Soft music played from the speaker store’s speaker system from above. There were no words but instead mellow lofi beats that could put anyone at ease. Various aromas and sweet scents of flowers and soils created a dewy-fresh atmosphere that was very reminiscent of an early morning.

It was a slow day in the shop, but thankfully the sales goal was met leaving (Name) to finally relax. The majority of the orders that day were done by call-ins and a few regulars visited to add to their garden collections. She was rather antsy the majority of the day up until now, too worried about meeting the goal for the day as she really didn’t want to fall behind on the week. It only warranted more stress on the following days to come. Luckily though, she didn’t have to worry. She was enjoying her quiet time working on the floral arrangements for various small events. One arrangement in particular made her heart flutter, an order for a couple’s two year anniversary. The arrangement itself wasn’t something groundbreaking. It was a classic bouquet of twelve red roses, all placed in a clear vase with pretty designs etched in the glass. (Name) remembers just how emotional the man making the call became when talking about the lucky lady. The way he sounded so completely and utterly in love was bittersweet to (Name). She wondered when exactly her time was coming. Her time to be so enamored with someone and have them return the same energy and admiration. Nonetheless, she was content while adding the finishing touches to the arrangement. Her nimble fingers worked to tie an emerald silk ribbon around the vase into a bow. The dainty jingle of the bell that hung above the door grabbed (Name)’s attention— a new customer. The footsteps behind her got closer, feeling their presence as they stood behind her on the other side of the counter.

“Give me one moment.” She called out softly. Her fingers gently pulled the ribbon into its final phase before grabbing the arrangement card pick that sat on the counter. She stuck the pick into the vase before placing the card in its holder. It was finally finished. A smile grew on her lips as she felt the feeling of accomplishment bubble inside of her, she just hopes that the couple will love it as much as they love each other. (Name) turned around to greet the customer.

“Sorry about that. Oh-” She paused for a second the smile she had faltered as an all too familiar heat rose on the apples of her cheeks when she saw the guest.

A young man who couldn’t be more than 24. His hair closely resembled the color of a chocolate bar, it was all pushed back into a neat bun with stray hairs framing his model-like features. The brunette stood at around six feet tall, his eyes big and the same deep shade of emerald as the silk ribbon she had in between her fingertips moments ago. It was a gorgeous contrast— the dark hair paired with the striking shade of green and twinkling specs of hazel in his irises. He wore a black turtleneck layered with a leather jacket, black jeans and expensive dress shoes. His earlobes twinkled as the light from the sun reflected off of the square diamond studs in his lobes while a golden key hung gracefully around his neck. Overall, the man looked expensive, luxurious even. Needless to say, he was very attractive— the kind of attractive that made anyone want to stop and do a double take.

“Hi, welcome.” (Name) said, a demure tone colored her voice while her lips nursed a warm smile. The man offered her a soft smirk and tilted his head a bit-- almost in a playful manner.

“Hey.” He quipped. His green eyes now locked onto hers with slightly raised brows. The smile on his lips was smug, his tongue grazed over his incisors looking at her almost like he knew what she had been thinking.

“Hi.” She replied shyly. Her warm smile became more bashful the longer they held eye contact. It didn’t take a world-renowned psychologist to see that this guy was a flirt, a handsome one at that. But as handsome as he was, (Name) knew better than that. She may not have been the most experienced girl on the block, but she had common sense. His type was something to stay away from.

“I need flowers for a friend. Think you can help me out?” The customer asks, his body leaned over the counter with his head resting in the palm of his hand.

“Of course!” She gave him a quick nod. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s her birthday.” He answered as he watched her frame emerge from behind the counter.

“Do you know her taste?” She asked. Her hand dragged gently across the sandy brown counter as she walked, looking at the brunette.

“Shit,” He paused and shrugged. The gentle realization that picking out some flowers may not have been as easy as he thought.

“I don’t know. A flower’s a flower, right?” He called out his question as (Name) walked over to a section of the shop where many varieties of colorful bouquets were set up nicely. The man pushed himself off the counter and trailed after her, standing close behind her smaller form as her (color) eyes scanned the flowers in front of her.

“Well, they all have different meanings,” Her hands reached out for one bouquet in particular. It was a mix of pink tulips, yellow gipsy hyacinths and lilac freesias all placed in a tall glass vase.

“You wouldn’t give someone carnations, roses and lilies for their birthday, right? Each flower has its own color, personality and smell. They’re all so diverse and one of a kind.” The attractive brunette stood behind her and watched in silence as she continued to ramble about flowers, slightly confused, but nonetheless let her continue to speak with a small smile on his face. It was almost like she was speaking to the flowers themselves the way she cooed and smiled down at them as she spoke. The set she held was beautiful. The pastel colors lived in perfect harmony with one another and the colors were refreshing and celebratory— perfect for someone’s birthday. (Name) turned around and was met with his silent gaze. Only then she came to the understanding that she may have been talking just a tad too much.

“But you could always settle for..” Her voice trailed off and her eyes settled on the flowers she held. “A pretty color.”

“By all means keep talking.” His voice sounded genuine much to her surprise and her eyes met his one more time. “I’ll be your guest.” He says, looking at the flowers as he took them from her hands. He likes them, thinks they’re pretty even. But then again, he’s never been too picky.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized. “Sometimes I get carried away.” She lets a breathy giggle escape her lips despite her embarrassment.

“No, I think it’s cute. It’s nice to see someone be so affectionate over something so,” He flicks a flower petal. “Innocent. I don’t get to see that often.”

(Name) stays silent, it was evident that she felt embarrassed at her rambling and the attractive stranger’s words didn’t help her self-consciousness. She walks past him, to make her way back behind the counter to ring him out. He follows after placing the flowers on top of the counter.

“One of a kind, right?” His voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Huh?” She tilted her head, brows were furrowed upward in the middle in a very puppy-like manner.

“Cute.” He thinks to himself with a chuckle. “It just means you’re one of a kind, right? Just like these flowers you were rambling about.” The brunette says. (Name) blinked, his words still processing to her ears. God, she really wasn’t used to this. Sure, she’s had a few dates here and there but she’s never met someone like him. Besides his looks, there was something so incredibly intriguing about him, something mysterious. Maybe it was the part of her that secretly craved that fantasy, that part of her that she never got to go out and do adventurous and wild things in high school and college. The man that stood in front of her had an aura that screamed danger and it was painfully intoxicating. Then again, it might have been just her deepest desires talking to her conscience. It was far from appropriate, especially when he’s a customer.

“Oh,” She replied, letting a loud silence blare between the two. She feels her cheeks rise in temperature once again, not only from his words but, she can feel his intense eyes on her-- watching her every move as she places the flowers into a bouquet bag. She can see his head follow her movements in her peripheral vision. (Name) only felt slightly frustrated. This guy she’s never met before came into her shop and made her feel like she’s talking to her middle school crush again. She didn’t even know his fucking name and he had her visibly flustered. She wondered if he did this to every clerk he comes into contact with. Does he have the same effect on them? It doesn’t even matter anyway, this interaction will be over soon and she’ll never see him again. The quicker he leaves the better. (Name) tells him the total and he hands over his black card as if it's a 20 dollar bill. It wasn’t a big deal, but she’s only seen that card a handful of times and it's usually high strung assistants of big CEO’s on the other side of the counter. It’s just an observation and it only had her even more curious about him.

“Eren.” He said as he inserted his card into the small black machine. “That’s my name.” He’s not looking at her this time, instead typing in the pin. She can’t help but to study his face while he’s not looking, an odd sense of relief washing over her because all his attention isn’t on her. He’s insanely pretty. Another thing that sticks out to her is how nice his nose bridge is and how thick his lashes are. He looks like he could be a model. He removes his card from the machine and places it back in his back pocket.

“Oh, I hope your friend likes her flowers, Eren.” She says with a genuine smile, her hands pushing the flowers towards him on the counter.

“I’m sure she will. I trust your eyes.” Eren said, his hands grazed over her skin as he took the bag from her hands. “And do I get your name?”

“Its (Name).” She replied. Eren took one last look at her, almost like he was taking her all in to remember every single detail of her face. There was no denying that in that moment there was an unspoken chemistry in the air, a smile grew on his lips before he spoke again.

“See you around, (Name).” Eren said before turning around to exit her shop.

“Let us go out, forget about time and responsibility and join lips.” - 8:41 PM.

Eren’s words didn’t hold much weight to (Name) two months ago when they met, deciding to take the entire interaction with a grain of salt, not that she was expecting much anyway. He was a stranger at the end of the day and it would have been very silly, juvenile even, of her to get her hopes up on someone like a random customer that came in on one of the slowest days of the week. That was until she saw more and more of him as the weeks passed. In the beginning the reasons for his appearances seemed to be more legitimate. Eren would come into her shop buying bouquets for the sudden influxes of “celebrations” in his life. They would range from these so-called birthdays to weddings and just because he “wants to do something nice” for someone. There was a point where he stopped with the excuses and just came in to see her. He’d still buy something every time though, she wondered if he actually kept all the plants he did purchase because he’s racked up quite the collection if he has.

His visits would often include a little gift of some kind. Usually her favorite drink and a cute cake pop from the Starbucks across the street. Sometimes she’d look through the shop’s glass windows and catch him looking both ways before doing a light trot across the payment with the things in hand. It took a few days for her to get adjusted to his behavior— and that was completely valid. (Name) wasn’t used to the attention so it was expected for her to be skeptical. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy getting attention from a handsome stranger. In many ways it fed into one of her fantasies and gave her what she didn’t get to experience yet in high school and university. So it came as a surprise to her when Eren asked her out one day at work. She nearly dropped the potted plant in her hands when the question escaped his lips so casually. Luckily, Eren was there to save the product before it dropped from her hands. Her first response was a shy “no.” (Name) was skeptical, and rightfully so. Granted, they had been interacting for a little over a month and she even considered him a friend— a crush but she wasn’t willing to admit that, at least not in the moment. (Name) was very ignorant to her emotions all the way to that point and the more she dwelled on it, the more she couldn’t ignore the feelings she so obviously had for him.

Eren didn’t seem upset about her response. He accepted her answer with grace but he was a bit let down. Not at her, but at the situation. There was no denying that there was chemistry there, he saw it. No, he felt it. Eren wasn’t going to pressure her into seeing him outside of her workplace but he was relieved when she stopped him from leaving and told him that she’d changed her mind.

Eren wined and dined (Name). To her, the date felt like everything out of a romance movie. It was almost too good to be true. Her previous curiosity about his financial situation was silenced for a couple of reasons: One, when he picked her up in a Tesla and two, he took her to a highly exclusive restaurant venue. Time seemed to escape them both over the elegant dinner and soon they found themselves in a more juvenile position. Both sat in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot while they listened to their music tastes, two jumbo Icees in the cup holders that sat between them. One cherry and the other cola flavored. After an hour, Eren proposed that he take (Name) home since he didn’t want her out too late.

That’s how they ended up where they were, outside of her apartment. Her smaller frame leaned up against the passenger seat door of his Tesla. The heels she had been wearing earlier in the night had been long discarded and placed somewhere in the backseat of his car, the soft bottoms of her feet making contact with the rough asphalt of the concrete. She kept a mental note in the back of her head to not forget them before they officially went their separate ways.

“Did you have a good time?” Eren asked, his body almost looming over hers due to his height. He was close, so much so that she could feel his body heat in the cool night air.

“Yeah, I did.” She nodded as twiddled her fingers under his gaze. Her with eyes trained on the sweater paw effect his leather jacket had on her body. She got cold in the restaurant earlier and Eren offered her his jacket

“I’m glad.” He said softly. His hand found her chin to lift her head to meet his eyes.

“(Name),” Eren had a look on his face that she couldn’t read.

“Hm?” She blinked, feeling her face become hot at the sudden eye contact. She hated that he could give her butterflies from something as simple as looking at her.

“Can I kiss you?” His question made her heart feel like it dropped into her stomach. The butterflies in her tummy were almost nauseating but nonetheless she nodded weakly and gave into the temptation.

“I- yeah.” (Name)’s voice almost didn’t register to her own ears, all she heard was a dull ringing and thumping of her heartbeat.

Eren stares down at her with lidded eyes and a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His hands were quite large, warm and soft as he cupped both sides of her neck, both his thumbs resting on her flushed cheeks. It was almost like she was in a trance-like state as his eyes bored into hers. Even under the moonlight Eren’s eyes twinkled like the cool water that ran over pretty stones in a mountain’s stream. Eren could see that (Name) was melting right in his palm. She looked up with pure infatuation, he could see the yearning for anything in her doe-like eyes. Her skin was warm to touch and Eren was almost certain that he could feel the butterflies she was experiencing were transferring to him through touch. Eren was staring because (Name) was, in fact, beautiful.

Her hands found their way to his wrists, her bottom lip jutting out slightly as her brows furrowed upward. She was becoming impatient.

“Eren, Stop star-” (Name)’s words were cut short by Eren’s mouth crashing onto hers and she immediately gave in. His lips were remarkably soft as they moved in sync with hers, the both of them with shut eyes and alternating between the top and bottom lip. (Name) could taste the minty-ness on his tongue the deeper they melt into each other’s lips. The cologne he had been wearing clung onto him so tastefully, he smelled of a mellow tropical fruit, white freesias with woody and deep tones. Eren’s tongue slipped past her lips eliciting an unintentional whimper from her. He couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his lips as he continued to kiss her, soon pulling away but not before gently pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth. Eren watched her lip pop back into place, admiring how pouty and wet her mouth looked. He took his thumb and ran it gently across her bottom lip before looking back into her eyes. It wasn’t much of a surprise that she was still staring at him completely swooned.

“I’ll call you.” Eren told her.

“Okay.” (Name) replied, almost sad that the day with him is over.

“I trust you enough to give you my everything, even the most intimate parts of my body.” - 10:23 PM.

“Eren, wait—” (Name) whimpered when she felt the tip of Eren’s thick cock prod at her tight hole. He was positioned between her legs, his hands hooked behind her knees and spreading her thighs open. His cock was rested at her glistening cunt, his hips pushed forward slightly making the tip of his cock push into her gently. His size was intimidating, seeing it was far different from actually feeling it. Eren was at least a half an inch wider than her slit causing panic to settle over her body at the initial contact.

“What is it?” His voice was soft velvety and somewhat brought her back to her senses.

“It’s big, Eren.” She whined, her face rising in temperature at her admittance to the intimation. Eren leaned over and left a soft kiss on her lips before pulling away.

“I know. It’s okay.” He reassured her gently with a coo of his voice.

“I don’t think it’ll fit..” (Name) looked down between them, her eyes settling on Eren’s length as his tanned hand stroked his veiny shaft.

“Just look at me.” He said with a soft smile.

“I—”

“Hey,” Eren stopped her, his tone making her look up at him. “Eyes on me. Don’t look away.” He nodded.

“Okay,” She nodded her head meekly, mirroring his actions.

“Said you liked my eyes, right?” Eren asked.

“Mhm,” She nodded once more trying her best to not think about the uncomfortable stretch the head of his cock was giving her as he slowly slid into her.

“Tell me what you like about them.” He said, keeping his tone light.

“They’re pretty-” (Name) is struggling to speak as the stretch was turning from discomfort to pain the deeper he sunk in.

“What else?” Eren continues.

“I like when-! Eren, oh my god-” She cried out in pain when Eren’s hips slammed onto her own— his cock was spitting her virgin walls to their capacity. Eren’s toned body rested on top of hers as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear about how proud he was of her and how well she’s taking him. The skin to skin contact is especially intimate on top of his reassurances.

“Shh, shh. I’m all the way in, feel it?” Eren kissed the shell of her ear. “Don’t cry, pretty girl.” He kissed again.

Eren stayed still to let her adjust for a minute or two before his hips gave her one deep roll to test the waters. The moan he got from her was more than reassuring. It felt wonderful, he felt wonderful. She’s never been so full in her life. His cock had a slight curve to it that pressed right against the spongy spot deep within her, the spot she could never reach on her own using her fingers.

The feeling of finally being one after months of getting to know each other and developing genuine feelings for one another all led up to tonight and her emotions were running high. She felt incredibly emotional with a warm feeling spreading deep in her chest as she looked up at Eren. He was possibly one of the best things that's ever happened to her and she wasn't sure if she even deserved him. His voice pulled her back to reality.

“You’re gorgeous.” He said with a smile while rutting his hips into hers. (Name) searched for any trace of deception in his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity and admiration. It was overwhelming. Her emotions were finally catching up to her. She genuinely had feelings for him and it was scary. (Name) felt tears swelling up in her eyes, trying her best to keep herself together but she ultimately failed. The tears spilled out of the corners of her eyes causing her to quickly cover her face with her hands.

“What’s the matter?” Eren asked, his voice heavy with concern halting all his movements to check on her. He removed her hands from her face and wiped the tears with his thumbs. Eren tried desperately to make eye contact with her but she just couldn't look at him because of the embarrassment she felt.

“Talk to me, please.” Eren asked, his brows furrowed as he looked at her putting his hand under her chin to get her to look at him.

“It’s nothing,” She said, feeling her cheeks flush at his sudden attentiveness.

“No, come on, tell me.” He urged her on softly.

“I like you alot, Eren.”

As simple as it was, Eren felt his heart swell at (Name)’s words. He smiled softly and leaned over to kiss away her tears. Maybe he was just utterly obsessed with her, but he could have sworn her tears tasted like honey.

“Eren, please..” She rolled her hips against his, a basic action but it made his head spin. Eren began to snap into her repeatedly, angling his cock at the perfect angle desperately chasing after their releases. Eren’s forearms held his weight and caged in her head. His thrusts never slowed down when her arms snaked around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. Eren’s thrusts slowly began to get harder and rougher as the minutes passed, finding it tougher to keep his composure the closer he got to his high. A ball of pleasure was beginning to form in her lower abdomen. He continued to fuck his fat cock in and out of her relentlessly holding eye content with her the entire time.

Eren was such a sight to see hovering above her. His bottom lip tucked between his pearly white teeth, cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink, his hair messy and slightly damp and the sounds escaping his mouth were absolutely heavenly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He repeated over and in her ear. Eren’s hand found her sensitive clit and began to rub frantic patterns. That, paired with his moans and the tip of his cock brushing against her cervix was enough to send her over the edge. (Name) came hard, her walls tightened around him as she chanted his name like a mantra as if it was the only thing she knew how to say.

“Thank you- thank you for makin’ me feel so good, I only wanna do this with you,” She babbled, being fucked through her orgasm. The way she looked up at him drove him crazy. That completely fucked out and dazed look in her eyes, those tear stained cheeks, and those plump lips slightly agape. God, he wanted to fuck her into oblivion.

“Shit, don’t look at me like that,” His words were strained as he struggled to speak properly. His thrusts became sloppier and lost its original rhythm as he neared his release.

“Where do you want it?” He asked quickly.

“Inside- inside, please..” (Name) mumbled out, still feeling the aftershocks of her own high.

Eren didn't think twice about it. His movement stopped almost immediately as he stilled his hips against hers— shooting his thick, white ropes deep inside of her filling cunt to the brim. His balls twitched and clenched while releasing his load. (Name) relished in the feeling of getting stuffed, the warm sensation seemed to never end, only pooling in her womb even more. Eren didn't realize just how loud he was moaning until he stopped. He rested his face in the crook of her shoulder and gave her shallow thrusts riding out his release. They laid like that for a few minutes until Eren sat on his heels and pulled out, admiring the white and red trail ooze from her abused pussy.

“Being in love is wonderful, but the realization of the feeling is something that can’t be imitated.” - 9:06 AM.

(Name) enjoyed her days off with him.

The grey overcast of clouds in the skies, the earthy smell of the rainfall, and the cool winds that made stray hairs dance in the breeze and leave tickly kisses on the sensitive skin of the face. The temperature dropped to a chilly 60°. It was perfect for lying in bed with one another and getting tangled in each other’s limbs while cartoons from each of their childhood served as ambient noise in the background. Both their bellies were full and happy from the breakfast— they, no, (Name) made. French toast, eggs, and strawberries with a glass of orange juice. Eren attempted to help, but he was more of a distraction than anything. Stealing kisses and popping the chopped berries into his mouth while (Name) scolded him for eating before the food was ready.

Sleepy whispers and barely audible giggles while the rain hits the window was therapeutic. The world outside didn’t matter, all that seemed important in that very moment to (Name) was being there with him wrapped up in his arms and attention. The way he peppered kisses the smell like maple syrup on her face as she giggled for him to stop. How he wouldn’t let her stray too far away from him in bed without whining about it. Even how he got genuine chuckles out of silly jokes from the cartoons playing. There was a warm feeling spreading throughout her chest as the seconds went by. An overwhelming sense of affection and need to be closer to him overtook her. She knew what the emotion was. It was an enchanting and wondrous feeling and yet the thought of admitting that specific emotion to herself made her feel scared— like her heart was falling harder than her brain was trying to process it all.

(Name) sat beside him as he laid down, one of his arms propped up behind his head and the other snaked around her waist. Eren looked so pretty at that moment, almost like a Greek god of some kind. His hair was freed from its usual elastic and his chocolate locks framed his face. He had been shirtless as the sheets barely hung onto his waist, much of his prominent V line showing. (Name) wondered if he realized just how attractive he is, or was he blissfully unaware. For some reason the latter seemed to be even more intoxicating. Eren watched as she leaned over his body to reach for the polaroid camera that had been sitting on the nightstand beside the bed.

“Ren,” She called his name softly. “Smile.” Her lashes brushed gently against the camera as she looked through the lens. Eren looked at (Name) with a content look, the smallest of smiles on his face as her finger pressed the small button ultimately snapping the vintage photo. Eren watched her let out an excited giggle as the photo printed from the slot of the camera, her fingertips held a corner of the picture as she fanned it back and forth in the air. The smile that grew on her face once she looked at the photo made Eren’s heart flutter.

“So handsome.” She cooed. Her eyes were animated as she held the film closer to her face— Eren thought she was utterly cute.

“Look,” (Name) laid down on his chest to show him the picture. She was speaking, but none of it was registering to his ears. She was so engrossed in the photo to see that he had been looking at her the entire time.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Eren said, almost like he had an epiphany.

“What?” Her attention was immediately on him, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m in love with you.” He replied simply.

The relief and euphoria that washed over her body was something that she couldn’t put into words. Everything was okay because he loved her too.

“When did things begin to fall apart? Where did we go wrong?” - Unavailable.

It's crazy how life can have anyone feeling like they’re at the top of the highest point of the universe without a care, fear or doubt in their mind. For a few short moments anyone could in complete and utter bliss only for it to take it all away in what seemed like a matter of seconds. Or could it be worse to have happiness slowly deteriorate right in front of someone’s eyes? Having the anxieties and worries slowly fester in the chest over time all from the actions of one person— a loved one at that.

Everything was a fairytale until... it wasn’t. There was a turning point and it was unclear where or when. It felt like everything they built came crumbling around them. To (Name), she didn’t know if it felt sudden or if this was something she watched right in front of her eyes.

How many more dates did he have to cancel? How many more dates did he have to be late— no, not even bothering to show up until she realized something was off? How many more god awful excuses did she have to sit through? How many more times did she have to listen to ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘It won’t happen again’ until she woke up? It's fair to say that: she knew but she chose not to accept it. Why would she? Eren was seemingly the perfect guy, she even considered herself lucky to meet him. Handsome, considerate, romantic. He was everything someone would want in a man. (Name) was too blinded by the infatuation and pretty emerald eyes to notice the red flags.

There was no denying this.. odd secrecy with Eren that (Name) couldn’t understand. It became more and more unsettling the more she thought about it. She didn’t really.. know what he did for a living, where he was from, or who his family and friends were. And yes, that sounds awful, but when she asked questions he was really good about not giving a direct answer. It was more of a half assed response, usually incredibly vague before he changed the subject of the conversation at hand. (Name) felt like he was separating her from other aspects of his life which she didn’t feel great about. Not only was it upsetting, but it also wasn’t fair. Eren knew virtually everything about her— mind, soul and body.

There have been many quiet nights where Eren spent hours just talking to her— picking apart her brain to understand who she was and how she thought. Her values, beliefs, and morals, he knew it all. Passionate nights where he took care of the ache he created in between her thighs. Eren would spend hours on end just to study her body. Gauging her facial expressions, listening to her pretty moans and the way she squirmed he touched, licked or kissed certain areas on her body. Eren knew her like the back of his hand and yet she knew so little about him. It created a bit of an imbalance in power in their relationship.

The part of her that wasn’t willfully in denial knew that was only a matter of time before things came to a blow. The question was: when?

“You are the flame and heat I needed. What I desperately craved in cold and flatlined life.” - 2:56 AM.

When Eren got back home it was about a quarter past three in the morning. Eren was beyond stressed the fuck out when he settled himself in his office chair. His suit jacket was discarded somewhere on one of the couches in the room leaving him only in his white button and black slacks. He took his gun from his shoulder holster and placed it on his desk.

Earlier that night he got a call from one of his “colleagues” from “work” earlier that night saying that the matter at hand was urgent and leisure wasn't even an option. Eren’s eyes were locked on (Name)’s sleeping form as he held his phone up to his ear and the words being spoken to him were almost disregarded. There was a slight anxiety that settled in his chest knowing he had to leave her there alone to handle business. Nonetheless he got dressed as quickly and quietly as possible before leaving. Things didn’t go as smoothly as intended and they lost a potentially vital piece of information because the guy they were negotiating with wasn’t cooperating in the way they wanted and unfortunately, blood was spilled but it had to be done. When he felt like this, he used the only thing he knew that was going to help him cope.

Eren held his metal card in between his fingertips as he rapidly chopped at the white substance on the square compact mirror in front of him and formed four thin lines in a column. He pulled a hundred dollar bill from his pocket, rolled it up and soon inhaled his first line. Eren knew it was fucked up for him to do this while his very unsuspecting girlfriend was upstairs asleep. To be frank, the entire situation he was putting her in was fucked up. He knew he was being selfish— too caught up in his wants and putting her own safety in jeopardy so he could play Prince Charming when he’s not busy being ⅓ bosses of the biggest organized crime syndicate in the underworld. He was quite literally living a double life— shit people only see in movies. Eren felt awful, he was sure her mother warned her about strange men like him. So sure that he dad did his best to protect her from dangerous men much like himself. He never meant for things to go this far, well, he did but he wanted to tell her about his situation earlier. But Eren could admit he was afraid of her potential reaction.

Over the course of the six and a half months he’s known her, he’s become quite smitten with (Name). It all came as a shock to Eren, really. He was never the relationship type for a couple reasons: his line of “work” and no one truly caught his interest. The thought of her leaving him didn’t sit right with him at all. It upset him for obvious reasons as he’s grown attached to her, however, it angered him for a reason he didn’t understand. It was almost.. Unhealthy? There were certainly darker emotions that were hidden beneath his handsome exterior. (Name) leaving him? No. He refused to let that happen. She made him happy— he couldn’t lose that. (Name) was the single patch of grass with a blossoming flower in his world of weeds. Maybe it was the drug talking.

“Fuck,” Eren mumbled as he sat back in his chair as his mind continued to race. He could feel his high creeping on him by the second as his heart began to race and blood began to pump through his system. Eren didn’t like doing this but it felt like this was the only thing to give him some form of sick comfort. Eren looked down at his ensemble. The sleeves to his white button down were rolled up to his elbows with deep splatters of red stained his shirt. His hands were also soiled remnants of dried blood, not his blood, but someone else’s. A life he took not just two hours ago. Eren was completely numb. He’s been through this too many times and somewhere along the way he simply got used to it. He numb and yet, as the drugs began to settle in his system he felt untouchable and excited about life— a complete inflation to his ego. He felt like God.

Eren glanced at the tall godfather clock sitting at one end of his office. Forty five minutes had passed since he got back. He took the rolled up hundred dollar bill and brought it up to his nose once more before taking another line. He let out a groan, feeling the burn from the dusted particles stick to his nostril canal and hit the back of his throat creating a numbing sensation after a few seconds. Eren sniffed and pinched his nose before standing up, deciding that he would take a shower before sliding back into bed with his sleepy beauty. He exited his office and made his way to the nearest bathroom on the first floor, the soft tapping from his expensive shoes echoed throughout the dimly lit hallways as he walked. Upon arriving he pushed the heavy door open and was met with the sleek and modern style black bathroom. There was a coolness in the room and felt nice on his fervent skin. Eren took a few steps in and stood in front of the large mirror. His big hands gripped at the marble counter as he leaned in closer to his reflection. His hair was disheveled with many stray hairs framing his face coming out the elastic of his hair tie. His big irises were now replaced with a thin green ring around his now blown pupils. He was high as a kite.

He brought a hand up to his cheek in an attempt to wipe away the dried blood but there was no use. Eren let out a sigh before pushing himself off of the counter and turned around to run the water to his shower and soon the entire bathroom fogged up with steam.

(Name) rolled to the other side of the king sized bed expecting warmth from a familiar body but was met with cold silk sheets. Despite her drowsiness, she sat up in bed and with an unintentional pout on her lips. Her dainty hands rubbed the sleep away from her eyes before reaching under her pillow for her phone. She pressed the button on the side of her phone to check the time. It had been a little past four in the morning. A small frown tugged at the corners of her lips when her eyes drifted to the empty side of the bed. The question in her mind was obvious. Where was Eren at this time of night? He had clearly been away for a while as there was no trace of warmth clinging onto the sheets beside her. (Name)’s legs shifted off the side of the bed and her warm feet came into contact with the cold and glossy marble flooring. Her grogginess escaped her slowly as she walked out of the bedroom and down the hallways. Her soft voice called Eren's name looking from room to room until she eventually made her way down the stairs.

The only thing Eren asked of (Name) in their relationship was that she never stepped foot in his office without his knowledge. She never questioned why in deciding to respect his privacy but she was always curious. It's not like she was willingly breaking the “rule,” she thought he might have been in there because the two double doors to his office had been left open. Walking in was justified, right?

“Ren? Are you in,” Her voice trailed off as her eyes settled on the things placed on his desk. “Here..”

With furrowed brows she took a few steps closer to his desk. Everything would have looked normal if it wasn’t for the black the handgun and remaining lines of coke sitting so shamelessly in open on his desk. (Name) couldn’t process what she was looking at for two reasons: one, she had never come into any contact with any sort of drug let alone a gun and two, she genuinely could not connect the dots of who these things belonged to. Eren owning these things wasn’t even a thought in her mind. Her thought process leaped to a possibility of an intruder being present before suspecting her boyfriend.

She knew it was a dangerous thing to do, but she couldn’t stop her hand from reaching out to grab the handgun sitting on the desk. Her soft hands grabbed it but the grip and brought it close to her face. Her pointer finger ran across the barrel as she looked at the object with… wonder. Her lips were slightly agape as her eyes studied the weapon in her hands. It was in fact real and had a weight to it that she didn’t expect. (Name) wondered if it had been used before or if it was loaded. There was a thought in her head that said she should be more scared than what she is. She didn’t understand what feeling this was as she continued to hold the gun in her hands. Maybe she was in shock? The adrenaline pumping through her vein could be for that very reason. But that still didn’t feel like that was the right answer. What was it?

“What are you doing?” The sound of Eren’s yell bounced off the corners of the room and caused (Name) to jump. Before she knew it she was being turned around harshly by her upper arm and was met with an anger that she’s never seen before from Eren.

“This isn’t a fucking toy!” He snatched the weapon away from her hands. “I never want to see you hold this again. Do you hear me?” He asked but the volume and tone of his voice made it come across as more of a demand, like he already expected her to understand what he was saying. (Name) nodded her head meekly with eyebrows furrowed upward as if she was going to cry at any given second.

“What are you even doing in here?” He started. “Why aren’t you asleep? Huh! I thought I told you to never come in here.” Eren ran a frustrated hand through his hair pushing back the loose strands that fell in front of his face in the process of his rage. The string of the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes made her let out a pathetic sniff as she saw just how angry Eren was at her. It wasn’t something she was used to at all, never has she had anyone yell at her in a fit of rage before and the fact that it was Eren of all people really hurt. She felt like a kicked puppy, sure, she had no business snooping around but did that really arran that kind of response from him?

“Don’t scream at me!” She cried as the perfectly shaped orbs of tears ran down her cheeks.

“Fuck!” Eren screamed again. This time it wasn’t directly at her but instead he turned around and began cursing his frustrations into the open space of his office. (Name) watched him in disbelief, fear, anger. Way too many emotions to process all at once.

She watched him brush past her to sit down in his chair. The atmosphere in the room was silent, heavy and intense as they held eye contact.

“Why do you have a gun, Eren?” Her voice broke the silence, “And why— why is there coke on your desk?”

“It’s none of your business.” Eren says simply but his nonchalant response made her retaliate.

“Tell me!” (Name) raised her voice for the first time in what she could remember in years. Eren ignored her and continued to look not at her, but through her almost as if he’s checked out mentally. That only caused anger to bubble in her chest.

“Tell me or I’ll- I’ll-!” The gears were turning in her head as she tried to find the right words to say.

“You’ll what?” Eren stood up and tilted his head with a curious smile on his face before he walked around the desk and took steps closer to her, gun still in hand. “You’ll what? Tell on me? Break up with me?” He continued to walk, ultimately backing her up into a wall with a look in her eyes he knew too well. Fear.

(Name)’s back was pressed against the wall with Eren’s hand gripping her jaw and forcing her to look at him. Any warmth in his gaze was replaced with something she couldn’t quite make out. Her brows creased one more when she saw just how blown his pupils were. She didn’t have to ask, but she knew he was high. His high strung behavior and eyes were a dead give away if the drug on his desk wasn’t enough. Everything was hitting her at once and it made her incredibly nauseous— completely sick to her stomach. She didn’t know who this mad person was.

“You’ve been lying to me this entire time.” She says. Her voice was small in fear of it cracking or wavering due to her tears.

“I never lied to you.” He replied with a hardened stare.

“But you never told me the truth.” She says. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Don’t say that,” Eren shut his eyes tightly and shook his head, clearly not pleased with the words escaping her lips. “You’re trying to hurt my feelings, aren’t you?” He asks

“I’m leaving. Move, please.” (Name) said, her hands resting on his chest pushing him away gently. He didn’t budge at all.

“No, you’re not.” Eren’s tone is very matter of fact.

“Yes, I am.”

“You’re in no position to make any decisions.” His words made her suddenly aware of the gun he held in his other hand and maybe it was her being naïve but she didn’t think that Eren would actually go as far as to hurt her. He would have done it already if those were his intentions. Though, she couldn’t be too sure yet.

“Eren, please tell me the truth. That’s all I want from you.” (Name) pleaded. Eren sighed before speaking again. If she wanted the truth then that’s what she was going to get.

“Okay, I’m an awful guy. No good for a girl as sweet as you.” He brought the gun in his hand up to her face and watched it trail gently over the supple skin on her cheeks.

“I kill people who fuck me over and my colleagues over.” Eren says. “Drug trade, money laundering, fucking with the government because we can.” He let out a chuckle when he took in her facial expression. She’s scared.

“Scared?” He teased her with a small smirk on his lips.

“No.” She shook her head. That was a lie, Eren saw right through it.

“Still love me?” He tilted his head. The question made her frown. It’s not possible to lose feelings overnight, the answer was obvious.

“Of course I do, Eren. But-” He cuts her off.

“Then open.” He orders, his eyes on her lips and her lip only.

“What?”

“What?” His voice went up a few octaves, mocking her. “Show me how good you’re getting at sucking my cock.”

With hesitation, (Name) opened her mouth and allowed Eren to slip the heavy steel slip past her lips and into her mouth about an inch or two in. It tasted like gunpowder and metal. Her plump lips wrapped around the barrel and began to bob her head much like she did when she had Eren’s cock in her mouth. She felt highly ashamed of her actions even though there wasn’t much she could do to protest, only continuing her lackluster blow job on his gun. Eren wasn’t satisfied in the slightest though, he knew she could do a better job. He didn’t spend all those nights fucking her throat for no reason for her to give him this half assed job. Eren, borderline shoved, the gun deeper into her mouth. The intrusion into her throat set her gag reflex off and she gagged onto the barrel, her hands flying to his wrists in hopes to get him to lighten up. The entire time her heart was racing. She didn’t know if it was loaded or if the safety was on, what if he pulled the trigger? Her life could be taken in a matter of seconds.

The terror that seized her body in that moment could only be compared to a near death experience. Hell, this was a near death experience— all her memories began to play like a movie in her consciousness. Family, friends, school, university, opening her flower shop, meeting Eren, everything up to now.

“Mm,” Eren hummed gently. “My two favorite girls are getting along so nicely. How sweet.” He said with his eyes still focused on how she struggled to take the gun’s barrel with a twisted smirk on his face.

“She’s fully loaded, pumpkin. The safety isn’t on either, so I suggest you do a better fucking job.” Eren’s voice sounded like honey, but his implications were far from anything remotely sweet.

The adrenaline that was pumping throughout her entire body felt so… marvelous. It was fucking intoxicating and almost made her feel delirious. (Name)’s heart was pounding against her chest, her senses were heightened, and her entire body felt like it had an intense case of the jitters. God, she couldn’t ignore the throbbing coming from between her legs anymore the more she looked at him. Eren’s cheeks were flushed and brows knitted together as he watched her double her efforts in sucking his pistol off. A thin coat of sweat caused both of their skin to have a dewy glow for more or less the same reason-- both incredibly turned on.

This situation was entirely screwed up but this feeling of danger and not knowing what could happen felt like a drug within itself. (Name) couldn’t help but to wonder if this was the feeling she was missing out on in all those years of being so shy, stubborn and scared to try something new.

“Fucking Christ.” Eren palmed himself through the sweats he was wearing, he was hard as a rock. She’s never looked any hotter than she does right now looking back at him with her own eyes blown. He was convinced that she was made for him-- his soulmate,

“Knees.” He said and she wasted no time dropping to her knees on the expensive marble floor below them. “Keep going, fuck.” Eren let out with a low groan. Her mouth closed around the barrel once more watching him skillfully pull his hard cock from his sweats with his free hand. It stood at attention, twitching a couple times from the cold air hitting his glistening wet tip. The precum that beaded at his slit had been smeared from his boxer briefs. His lips pursed and a dollop of spit came from his lips landing on his shaft. Eren’s large hand wrapped around his cock, giving himself two pumps before he spit on himself again. He always liked it wet and sloppy. When he was satisfied, his strokes matched the pace at which her head bobbed.

“I think you were made for me, baby.” He let out, his eyes lidded as he peered down at his lover. She looked like a hot mess in the best way possible. Never would have Eren thought the sweet girl he met at a flower shop on a whim would be choking on his pistol while he jerked himself off.

“You know you’re letting me fuck your mouth with the same gun I used to kill someone tonight, right?” He asked. She moaned around the weapon in a reply, her actions getting more eager by the second. (Name) felt her slick soiling her cotton panties.

“Dirty, dirty girl.” Eren moaned and drew his head back, his hand picking up its speed. (Name) draws her head back to speak.

“Ren, fuck me, please. Wanna feel it.” She whines, her mouth and chin shining with her own saliva.

“Get on the desk.”

(Name) was sprawled out on Eren’s desk, her legs spread as he slid his gun in between her wet folds. From her slick and previous sobering on the object, it was already lubed enough to slide in little to no resistance but Eren wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation waiting for him to do anything. A sweet whine escaped her lips when she felt the barrel brush up against her clit in a certain way he knew she liked. Eren took his other hand and spread his lips open, placing the foreign object at her tiny hole and pushed it in slowly. His eyes never left her face— lips parted, brows knitted and while her hands looked for anything to grab a hold of. She could stark contrast from the hard texture of the gun to her plush walls.

After a few seconds of adjusting, Eren was soon pumping it at a quick pace, his pointer fingers flicking at her aching clit around the same speed. (Name)’s moans and whines made his cock leak much like it was before. Eren had self restraint, but it was increasingly difficult to not shove his cock in her and get to pounding her tight cunt.

“‘M gonna cum- don’t stop, please,” She yelped, urging his assault on her pussy even more. Her legs spread wider and she began to fuck herself onto the gun, matching his movements. Her orgasm hit her unexpectedly.

“Oh my god, Eren—” Her walls spasmed around the barrel, creaming all over the weapon.

Eren wasted little time replacing the gun with his cock and brought the steel up to her lips once more to make her lick her juices clean. He fucked into her with such force she couldn’t comprehend anything but the harsh feeling of the womb being abused over and over by his cock. The buttons from his button down shirt she had been wearing were popped off and scattered in various places from the force of how hard he ripped the material open, desperate to see her perfect tits bounce and jiggle from the impact of his thrusts. Eren reached for the small baggie of coke beside her and sprinkled some of the substance on her chest before smothering his face in between her tits. His hips never faltered the entire, only picking up speed before standing up again. A firm hand wrapped around her throat before he spoke again. Eren was beginning to feel the effects of the drug again. He felt powerful like he was on top of the world, as if he was on a never ending drop of a rollercoaster. The dopamine and adrenaline speeding throughout his system was almost too much paired with how her pussy was sucking him in so greedily. He was too tweaked to realize she had already come and was now being overstimulated.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” He gritted through his teeth. “Want me to fill you up? Want me to fill this cunt with my cum?”

“Yes, yes, yes-” (Name) babbled underneath him.

“Who’s pussy is this?” Eren asked.

“Yours,” She whimpered, feeling yet another high building in her tummy.

“Can’t fucking hear you, baby.” He landed a hard slap on her cheek eliciting a moan from her. “Who does it belong to?” The hold on her neck got tighter.

“‘S yours, Eren-!” (Name) cried out.

Eren felt her walls clench around him and her release milking his cock for everything that it was worth. He didn’t stop pounding into her though, too insistent on fucking her stupid that Eren didn’t realize he was doing the same to himself. His cock was over stimmed and aching-- almost bringing himself to tears as he continued to rut into (Name)’s cunt. He had nothing left to give her, his balls were completely emptied into her. Some of his cum leaking out of her pussy and pooling under her ass onto the luxurious desk. Eren’s movements started to slow down and eventually came to a halt. He rested his head on her chest and listened to her heartbeat return to its regular rate. (Name)’s hands found their way into his hair to massage his scalp with her fingertips.

“I fucking love you.” Eren declared breaking the silence in the room.

“I love you too.” She replied.

“The tragedy is all right there, in the very beginning when he smiles at her. When she instantly forgets how dangerous he is.” — Anne Eliot.

2K notes · View notes

mazuwii · 3 years

Text

Eren Jaeger SFW Alphabet

Authors note: I hope this is feeding you guys because I am dragging this motivation by its hair😤

I was going to do Bertholdt next but I got a request for Miche so either of them will come out next😄

If you guys can’t comment (I’ve no idea how to turn replies on) Then I’m Lunology on wattpad, just comment on my aot scenarios book and I’ll post here! <3

—A (Affection, how affectionate is he?)

•Not the most lovey-dovey person in the entire cast, Eren is really shy when it comes to conveying his feelings for you. But when you both are alone, and he's comfortable with you he can hug you, or pinch your cheeks as a way of saying "You're so cute I could squish you into nothing."

•He has a very aggressive way of showing affection, like biting your cheek, kissing places with his hands clamping shut on them, it's difficult to get him to let go.

—B (Bestfriend, what would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

•Being best friends with Eren is a wild ride. You'd think he adopted you as a best friend being the loud, boisterous extrovert that he is yet you're the one always getting him out of trouble.

•He's loud, fun, spontaneous but incredibly annoying. My guy will SPAM you with useless TikTok videos, his entire fyp on your messages.

•But he's very funny too, he crops your faces on animated videos and it lowkey looks so shit that it's funny.

•As your best friend, Eren will fight anyone who even thinks about threatening you (lmao he can't fight) so you're just stuck with scolding him and disinfecting his bleeding lip💀

—C (Cuddling. Does he like to cuddle? How would he cuddle?)

•If he gets a random wave of gratitude he'd just randomly burst into your room and hug you, it would be sooo random. You're just playing a game and this guy hugs you but as a joke, he walks around the room while hugging you so the chair you're on walts around everywhere with him. Once you understand what this weirdo is doing you just burst out laughing with him because you both look dumb.

•Like the dude is just staring into space when he remembers that one time you slapped a teacher for him, or almost got yourself in trouble to give him something and he just goes: ƈ ͡ (ुŏ̥̥̥̥ ‸ ŏ̥̥̥̥) ु COME HERE Y/NNNNNN!!

•Eren is a pretty fun boyfriend, wouldn't just stick to a cuddle session, it would be more like... playing a game on the console with you sprawled out on his lap.

—D (Domestic. Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

•While Eren wants to tie a knot when it comes to you and him, having children never ever crosses his mind. It's just fun fun fun until you're twenty-eight and you're asking when he wants to have a mini Jaegar. He just looks a bit taken back because it isn't an easy job...

•And when it comes to cooking and cleaning, he's actually somewhat good at cleaning, never missing a spot with his aggressive wiping. However... I don't see him as a cooker if you get me💀 probably burnt his finger while boiling water and never tries again.

•If we're talking about domestic then yeah maybe, maybe he does have a nice husband in him. Not one that pretends there's a spider on you when you wake up... or nOt one that hogs the pillows.

—E (Ending, If he had to break up with his partner, how would he do it?)

•He felt as if he wasn't giving you enough and that other men could satisfy you. Eren would be too scared to face you when he breaks the news so he would leave a note and completely disappear from your life.

—F (Fiancé. How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

•Eren doesn't really put labels on things, at least, he says that... the guy calls you wifey even though you aren't married. Sure he may think about it for a few minutes but quickly shuts himself down since he's extremely shy when it comes to chatting about the two of you

•Eventually when he goes to all his friends' weddings, he gets jealous and decides he should put a ring on it LMAO, you can expect him to be incredibly flustered and even play it off with a 'cool' when you say yes. It's best you hug him so that you don't see how red his face turns.

•I'm just sayin' he's going all out for your wedding, it's so funny, he's so extra... why are their ten limousines? Men shooting guns upwards the moment you both kiss?! A fucking food fight-

—G (Gentle. How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

•If we're talking about physically, he is not gentle and he doesn't even try to be. He sometimes accidentally hurts you but never misses a second to kiss the spot and over-apologise. But Eren would never think about hurting you on purpose unless it was a life or death situation.

•Emotionally, he's fragile and would love reassurance. Emotionally, towards you, he doesn't be careful, always giving you jump scares, purposely pranking you

—H (Hugs, do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

•For you, he loves aggressive hugs where it's breaking your bones and he just lifts you off the floor and violently shakes you around like he can't get enough of you.

•He loves loves loves loves LOVES hugs when you two are alone and treating you like your a happy huge dog, ruffling every single part of your body for no reason at all and rubbing you with a relaxing force...?

•Again, Eren is very shy so you'd have to start hugging him first for him to get used to it and eventually, he'll be the one knocking into your body for a bear hug

—I (I love you. How fast do they say the L-word?)

•Eren says I love you through the number of shits he gives (Not literally)... If he cares about you he worries a lot and checks up on you almost all the time so

•It would probably be at a time where he did something so risky and you got so scared that the moment you caught onto him you cried it out, he'd apologetically say it back and hug you, with meaning of course.

—J (How Jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

•Coming from someone who tries her hardest to make this accurate, I can say Eren gets jealous to the m a x

•At first he thinks to himself that you'd tell whoever it is flirting with you to fuck off but his pride shatters when he realises you didn't say anything and it doesn't sound like you will

•My guy either walks out in dismay and gets petty with you afterwards or he walks up to you and tells you the both of you have to go home before shooting a dirty look at the flirty dude or straight up telling him to piss off

•That may result in a physical fight 💀 that guy needs anger management classes...

—K (Kisses, what are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

•For Eren, I can say that he doesn't make out often but when he does he'll probably leave your lips bruised, he has an obsession with biting your lip at the wrong time💀 he's too rough on most occasions, it isn't fun... calm down Jaegar.

•Eren loves kissing your cheek, except he bites it and leaves a slobber of saliva on it. He thinks it's cute as fuck, he won't stop.

•As for where he likes being kissed... he likes feeling delicate and loved so he really enjoys it when you sweep his rapunzel ass hair aside and kiss the temple of his forehead

—M (Mornings, how are mornings spent with him)

•The blanket is probably completely off of him and his leg is resting on your hip. He's an animal so the guy wakes up at like...6am without an alarm- it isn't even a training day! It's a day off! And he still wakes up at that early time.

•A few morning exercises for an hour before he attempts to wake you up... violently.

•Listen! Eren likes making breakfast with you, it doesn't feel the same without you- it's defintely not because he has no idea how to work the gas and oven🌚

•He's very funny and social when he isn't hungry so mornings are pretty fun with him, cracking a few jokes while getting you dirty with pancake mix (he said he can't control where flour goes, this is why you don't get him to cook)

•And then after that, it's time to shower... idk you decide if you'll go in with him¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (Just sayin' his skin is very red afterwards, my guy uses cold water but scrubs so hard with the lufa-)

—N (Night, how are nights spent with him?)

•Like I said, Eren is like a dog, he spends his days using his full energy and he makes sure to use it all up so by 22:00 he should be knocked out.

•Eren isn't too bothered on cooking so you both probably just watch something before bed while eating take out

•afterwards it's a... really boiling hot shower, brush your teeth, have a conversation in bed for a while until you're both falling asleep at the sound of your voices.

•"Hah... loser... I can...- I can see you falling asleep *Jaegar yawn* first..." even though he's the one with the heavy, falling eyelids.

—O (Open, when would he start revealing things about himself? Did he say everything all at once? Or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

•Eren is very hesitant when it comes to being emotional, he thinks it isn't very masculine so you have to remove the toxic part away and reassure him millions of times that just because he cried, it doesn't make him girly.

•It would be an accident, he'd be trying to go stargazinh with you, you were resting on his arm and he was rambling and the subject suddenly got onto him. Without realising, he spilled everything right then and there... somehow without crying.

•The least you could do was hold on his hand and squeeze it gently... I doubt he's paying attention, he's probably scowling in memory.

•It's best you reassure him that nothing is his fault, nothing could have prevented what happened

—P (Patience, how easily angered are they?)

•He is very impatient to say the least, a control freak.

•When things don't go his way, he shouts, punches walls, scrunches up his hair but the moment there are tears in his eyes, everyone needs to leave the room

•oh ho ho HOOO you don't want to Eren to cry from anger, he turns into the silent kid with a glock in his bag... leave him for an hour and you'll come back to a fully destroyed room👁👄👁

—Q (Quizzes, how much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

•He remembers dumb small details, your favourite flowers, why you don't like public bathrooms, the reason you won't stop annoying his half brother 💀 (You wanna know Zeke's wiping technique... who doesn't?!)

•However he can't for the life of him, remember your doctors appointment or to pick up your medicine... he's halfway home and goes "Fuck-"

—R (Remember, what is his favourite moment in your relationship?)

•He and you go out on a lot of dates, but they're always wacky and messy. One of his favourites was when you both attacked Armin at the beach with water guns and then both Armin and Mikasa were both searching for you to get revenge

•You two hid behind a palm tree, giggling lowly with each other, aiming to attack your two oblivious friends but little did you both know, they heard your low confident remarks and lunged from behind the tree with two full buckets of freezing sea water dumped on you.

•He always remembers that day when he drifts off into a daydream and it always makes him smile

—S (Security, how protective are they? How would they protect you?)

•Trust me when I say... Eren would kill for you...

•So in conclusion, he is very protective and would not hesitate to take far measures to protect you. He's pretty much your ride or die

•While he doesn't show his protectiveness, he acts on it... if that makes sense? Listen, he's very protective but he's sneaky about it! I don't know how to describe it

—T (Try. How much effort would he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

•Despite how immature he seems, Eren completes all tasks in his day. And he makes sure of it

•When it comes to dates, it's very random... more spontanous but it's always something like. "Oh by the way, we're going to a waterpark this Sunday." Orrr "Babe! Get ready, we're going to eat out with Armin and his girlfriend!"

•You have an hour and a half to get ready so I would call your relationship active 😭 not even sexually active just active.

•Eren can be thoughtful but you have to shove your interests in his face for him to know what you want. Cartoon posters? He catches you watching a lot of gravity falls, steven universe, AWOG, etc... and then anytime he sees stuff to do with that in shops, he gets it for you on the way.

—U (Ugly, what are some bad habits of his?)

•Like I said earlier, Eren has some... mild anger issues🌚

•Nothing can calm him down, unless you have Ackerman strength I doubt you can stop him. He has no idea how to deal with his emotions so it just bubbles up and then he sees an object and thinks 💡 this can take my shit load of anger

•The walls probably have a lot dents yk and calming him down is very difficult but to be thoughtful, you tried getting him a few things to help him deal with his stress properly

—V (Vanity, how concerned is he with his looks)

•Couldn't really give two shits about his appearance, my guy grew rapunzel ass hair and just tied it up because I doubt he's bothered to take care of it

•Sure he wouldn't mind you washing it for him and applying conditioner, in fact, he loves it.

•Eren doesn't care about his appearance and just throws on a hoodie and sweatpants most of the time. You have to choose the shit he wears when you go out on fancy occassions 💀

—W (Whole, would they feel incomplete without you?)

•Again, to Eren, you're his world and he'd do anything to make sure that world is safe and healthy so without you, who would he feel the need to protect?

•Okay MAYBE he doesn't like worrying but he just does so I guess that would be a good thing if you broke up but it isn't as worth it💀

•But ever since you've been his sunshine cheerleader, he can't imagine a morning without your whining ass voice, or fighting with you to the bathroom in the morning, jumping on your back out of nowhere

•You're everywhere in his head, of course he couldn't feel whole without you

—X (Xtra, a random headcannon for him)

•Anytime Eren loses at something(it could be a hobby or a game) he'd stop doing it. Just dropping the entire thing.

•Unless he feels competitive, that always fires him up to do better... so in a way, Jean motivates him to do things. Those two actually care for each other but they hate each other (not literally) they're like siblings!

•Sorry, am I making sense?💀

—Y (Yuck, what are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in person?)

•First of all, my mans fucking hates chocolate, put it near him and he'll kick it or throw it against the nearest wall.

•Like Eren was such a good boi when he was little, eating everything his momma put on his plate, even the brussel sprouts he fucking despised.

•But chocolate is his last straw. Chocolate and peanut butter. It gets stuck to the roof of his mouth and he panics like a drama queen, fanning his face like a princess and washing his mouth with his heart POUNDING against his chest

—Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of his?)

•He sleeps pretty normally, when he turns he lets out a soft satisfied groan, which I'd say is ordinary

•As for his sleeping weight, I'd say he's a heavy sleeper, you'd need to shake him to wake him up, slap his face or something because when that sleep is BUSSIN he won't be WAKIN (bad joke sorry)

•And he's gaping. Shut his mouth please.

•His hands may accidentily fall on some places on your body, he places them everywhere. Like on your nose, on your belly

Authors note:

Have you guys noticed that I don't add the letter L🌚? *shocked noises*

Jaaaa that's because I don't wanna write about kids so forgive me lmao

I'M SO GLAD THIS IS FINISHED! I WANT TO ADD EVERY CHARACTER COS I FEEL SO BAAAAAD FOR NOT DOING A LOT OF YOUR REQUESTS!

Deadass my brain just went bye bye when it came to writing and I recharge by reading actual original work by published authors, it helps me get back on track

Bertholdt/Miche is next!

#Eren #eren fluff #eren sfw #eren yaeger aot #eren yaeger #eren jaeger #Ereh!#erehhhh #mikasa moment #eren x reader

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marksicecream · 3 years

Text

Just 14 Days ❤

Who: Mark Lee x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Established Relationship AU

Warnings: One curse word

WC: 1.7K

A/N: Hey guys so it’s my first time writing fan fiction and I am really nervous. I really loved doing it, so I hope you guys enjoy it! Please share with others 🥰

Since February 25 you have spent fourteen days in a hotel in Seoul due to quarantine protocols. On your flight to Korea all you could think about was the chance to finally see Mark in person once again. The last time you were able to really hang out with him was at the rodeo where they performed Kick It. Since then, your relationship consisted of daily photos being sent via text and weekly FaceTime calls where you guys would consistently remind each other how much you would wish to see each other once again. Dating Mark Lee, member of NCT had been already hard on its own since the time difference and the amount of long hours he put into his career. You never complained of the fact that he loved what he was doing and the amazing amount of effort he put to keep in touch. But now with the pandemic around you guys felt a bigger heart ache as you weren’t able to see each other as much as you had wanted.

So today, March 11,2021 it was finally time to see your boyfriend. On any other day you would sleep in and wake up at 9am but today was not the case. Your alarm was set for 6am and for the first time you had woken up by the first ring. Adrenaline rushing through your body you quickly began to pack your clothes that you had worn for the past two weeks. All that was running through your mind was the fact that today was the day that you were able to see Mark’s smile in person. As you were packing you let out a small chuckle at the thought that he didn’t know you were coming to Korea. That’s right, all of this was behind his back and everyone else from 127 knew. Johnny really helped you with all the planning, of course with the approval of the managers, but without him none of this would have been possible.

After an hour of packing your clothes, the sun began to rise and you decided to order breakfast in your hotel room. While eating your meal, the sudden realization of seeing Mark after a full year hit you. Immediately, you felt your palms get sweaty and your heart beats faster. You were well aware that Mark loved you and that you loved him. Knowing him since childhood had always helped you guys in your relationship as you had years of trust. But in this moment all you could think about was the doubt in your head. What if when he sees you, he would change his mind about you? Has it been so long that he doesn’t feel the same? Ignoring these negative thoughts you finished your meal and finally had received the phone call you had been waiting for.

“Y/N are you ready to go. I am outside in a black van.” Said the manager of NCT

As a smile began to form on your face you responded “Yup! I have all my stuff packed up and ready to go. I will head down and see you in a minute.”

As soon as you hang up you grab your sweater and your luggage and open your hotel door. Feeling a sense of freedom after being in a small room for so long, you step up your pace as you feel a sense of excitement. Now at the lobby, you see the black van through the glass window. As soon as you enter the van you finally greet the driver, but notice someone in a black hoodie and mask next to him.

“BOO!” The man turns around and you jump as you didn’t not expect any loud noise in the morning. As soon as you make eye contact with the guy your eyes widen.

“JOHNNY!” you shout in the car while smiling wide.

“ Hey, what’s up. Bet you didn’t expect this one right. I wanted to come pick you up so you wouldn’t be alone and I know this is only your second time here and it’s been a while. Also, I know for a fact once Mark sees you he won’t give us the chance to talk” He says while laughing a little bit.

“ Honestly, that was a really big surprise that I didn’t expect. It makes me so happy to see you after so long. Also, don’t worry, I’ll make sure to catch up with all of you guys once I get to catch up with Mark.”

The thirty minute ride consisted of you and Johnny talking about their Japanese album, NCT 2020, life in the states, and of course your excitement to see Mark. Talking to Johnny gave you a sense of relief as most of the nerves went away and it seemed that nothing had really changed much. Before you even knew it you were in front of the 127 dorms.

“ Well, we’re here.” Johnny says while hopping out the car, heading to the trunk to help you with your luggage. “ So the boys all know you’re here except for Mark, but he should definitely be awake by now because it’s nine.”

Going into the elevator with Johnny you see the numbers rise to the tenth floor. As soon as the door opens you feel butterflies in your stomach and a sense of anxiousness. You wanted to see Mark so bad, but at the same time you were scared about his reaction. Johnny unlocked the door to the apartment and all you could see was the layout of the living room. The table and the TV, the same place where it once stood. While processing the layout you hear footsteps coming from the hall. Jaehyun and Yuta make eye contact with you and their mouths drop slightly.

“No way I can’t believe you made it! This is so exciting it's been so freaking long. Also, if I’m being honest, I completely forgot today was the day” Jaehyun begins to chuckle.

Yuta approaches you with a big hug, followed by a hug from Jaehyun. As soon as the guys begin talking the noise in the apartment begins to rise. Before you know it a certain someone begins to walk towards the living room.

“Yo guys, what’s with the loud commotion? It's kinda early for that, don’t you think-” Mark pauses his sentence as he finally sees you. You turned to look as you had heard his voice but was too focused on your talk with Yuta and Jaehyun. Turning your neck towards him, your eyes water as you felt so many emotions all at once. You see Mark's eyes begin to water as well, so you decide to take a step closer to your love. He then turns his back to you and you take a pause in your steps.

“Stop, I don’t want the first thing for you to see is me crying after a whole year.”

As soon as you hear his voice soften your tears begin to form more clearly and you finally decide to speak up. “Babe, come on, you know that I don’t care about that. I just wanna be with you and make sure you are happy.” You say while finally moving up close enough to him to wrap your arms around his waist and put your head comfortably on his back. All of a sudden you feel trembling of his body and his voice crack a little. Mark doesn’t cry often, but you wanted to cherish this moment because you felt all his love. He turns around and looks at you. “I missed you so fucking much” he whispers into your ear before snuggling his head into your neck. You hug him even tighter and whisper back sweet things. It has been so long that both of you felt an overwhelmed feeling. Mark lifts his weight from your body and moves closer to your lips. As soon as your lips touch, you feel a sense of relief as you had waited for this day to finally see your best friend and boyfriend. The kiss lasts much longer than expected until Johnny clears his throat. “ So are you just gonna kiss until the day is over or let us all catch up with her Mark.” Johnny says sarcastically as the other members begin to laugh.

Your lips detach from each other, but it is obvious that you are both blushing. You turn around to face the boys and give them a small smile while Mark wraps his arm around you. Feeling his warm is so comforting and then you hear your love begin to speak. “Wait, so did you all know that Y/N was coming?!” His voice finally is back to his usual tone and the boys all nodded simultaneously. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, dude, what that heck!” You begin to laugh and so do the others and once Mark heard your laugh his heart began to race. He loved everything about you and to finally be connected in person once again would something he could never take for granted again.

“I am so glad I am finally with you again. Of course I loved our FaceTime calls, but seeing your beautiful face in person is way better” You whisper into Mark’s ear as his ears begin to turn bright red.

The 127 guys all headed back to their dorm rooms and you followed Mark with your luggage into his room. Things had changed since the last time you stayed but it wasn’t a shock since he had given you a room tour in FaceTime in past months.

“Baby, thank you for taking the time to be here with me like I really mean it. You are my person and honestly I couldn’t thank you enough. There were some days where I really felt like I didn’t have enough strength to get things done, but the thought of you being proud made me get through it.”

“Aww babe stop because literally I am going to cry. I feel like the luckiest person to spend time with you and be a part of your life. Never forget that I will do anything to make you happy even if it means being stuck in a hotel for 2 weeks.

Mark’s eyes widen “ Crap I forgot that you had to do that too! Baby I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be, anything for you.” You say as you place your hand on his cheek and bring his face closer to give him a small peck on the lips.

#mark lee x reader #mark lee #NCT #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct fluff #fluff #established relationship #jaehyun #yuta #johnny #taeyong

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multiplefandomsblog · 3 years

Text

“6 years old until now.”

request; Helloooo! I have noticed that your requests are open so if it isn’t too much to ask could I please request gundham x reader where they are kids and are like play dating and have a fake wedding and after that have a time skip for when they are adults and actually have a wedding?

warnings; kisses, gn!reader, reader has neutral pronouns and everything, reader takes gundham’s last name, fluffffffffffffy, and maybe angst?? kinda, not really, ARGHHHG THE TITLE IS BADDDD BUT I COULDN’T THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE HEUGRHRGAHGF

word count; 1.6k words holy crap

“Gundham! Hey, c’mere I have something for you!” You beckoned Gundham toward you, hiding a ring pop behind your back. “Fuahaha! What did you need from the prince of darkness?!” Gundham deepened his voice dramatically, zooming over to you with a flamboyant smile on his face and birds standing on his shoulders. “Gundham those birds look so cool!” You beamed, carefully walking up to him, as to not scare them. “I know right!? A pack of animals were following me today!” He stepped to the side, revealing the line of rabbits and squirrels behind him.

Your jaw dropped, “Gundham could be the ultimate animal talker-to!” Gundham guffawed cockily, “Fuahaha indeed! Anyway, what did you wanna give me?” Gundham said curiously, cocking his head to peak behind your back. You nervously fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Well, I got this for Halloween but I wanted to give it to you instead. Um, so we could get married!” Your nervousness left as quick as it came, smiling brightly as you presented him the candy ring. “Gundham Tanaka,” You got on one knee dramatically, “Will you marry me?”

Gundham’s eyes widened before glossing over with tears, “S-s/o…” He wailed, moving his hands up to wipe his tears. “G-gundham, don’t cry! I’m sorry, you don’t have to marry me!” You panicked, moving closer to hug him tightly. “I-I’m not crying! The prince of darkness doesn’t cry!” He denied, taking the candy from your hand around his waist. “I-I accept.” He sniffled, feeling incredibly happy you proposed to him even though you two were too young to get a marriage license.

“R-really!?” You beamed, pulling away to see his red tear-stained face. He nodded eagerly, opening the ring pop package and slipping it on his ring finger with a wobbly smile. You brightened up with an idea, tapping Gundham’s shoulder frantically, “I have an idea!” Gundham looked at you with confusion, “What?” Your smile wide, “Your animals can marry us!” You pointed at the crowd of small animals behind him, looking at them with excitement.

“S/o, that’s a brilliant idea!” He cheered, holding your hand and dragging you in front of the animals. One of the cats had sat in the middle of you two, looking up at you expectantly. “Oh, uh, I think it goes… Do you, Gundham Tanaka, take me to be my- Er, your loving spouse?” You stumbled, unsure if that’s actually how it went. Gundham stared into your eyes with a blinding smile, “I do!” Gundham examined the ring on his finger happily, “Do you, S/o L/n, take me to be your loving spouse?”

He crossed his hand over his chest, “I do, I do!” You giggled, leaning in quickly to kiss him on the cheek. The cat rolled its eyes at your eagerness, leaving the two of you be. Gundham flushed at your sudden peck, covering his face with his hand to hide his red face, “S/ooooooo..!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well then, today was the day.

You nervously looked around the room, your breathing shallow from the many eyes on you. You gulped down your anxiousness, focusing your attention back on your beloved. As you looked over his dazzling figure, Gundham scanned yours, face flushing at how beautiful you looked. You winked at him, mouthing a, “You look so hot.” at him and giggling as you saw his already flushed face becoming redder with each second.

The priest cleared his throat, eyes gazing over the words of his book before starting,"Gundham and S/o, today you are surrounded by your friends and family, all of whom have gathered here to witness your marriage and to share in the joy of this special occasion.” You scanned the room for your friends, smiling as they gave you a thumbs up and a tear-filled grin.

“Today, as you join yourselves in marriage, there is a vast and unknown future stretching out before you.” You looked back at Gundham, seeing your whole future with no one but him. You knew, and had no doubt, that you wanted to spend the rest of your future with him.

“The possibilities and potentials of your married life are great; and now falls upon your shoulders, the task of choosing your values and making real your dreams.” Gundham thought of all those old memories with you, reminiscing in them. Though he misses the old memories, he’s already incredibly excited for the new ones he will make with you. The potential and possibilities as the priest said.

“Through your commitment to each other, may you grow and nurture a love that makes both of you better people. A love that continues to give you great joy, and also a passion for living that provides you with energy and patience to face the responsibilities of life.” You looked deep into Gundham’s eyes, reaching out to hold both his hands. When you look at him, you are reminded of your childhood. Your entire life, he has experienced with you. This man had stuck with you thick and thin, and how lucky you are; You get to be married to him.

"May you always need one another; not to fill an emptiness, but to help each other know your fullness.” As the priest spoke his readings, all Gundham could think of was you. It was like he had described you to him perfectly; You had always made his heart feel full and loved, and he hopes he did the same for you too. “May you succeed in all important ways with each other, and not fail in the little graces. May you have happiness, and may you find it in making one another happy. May you have love, and always find love, in the pursuit of loving one another."

A few tears trickled down your face, Gundham’s eyes glossing over as well. “Gundham,” You stopped, choking out a sob. Gundham chuckled at your inability to speak, tears falling from the feeling of how much he loved you, even when you were crying. “To me, you are still the same little boy that I had proposed to—what felt like—millions of years ago.” You reached up to gingerly brush his tears away with your thumbs, your heart swelling as he leaned into your touch.

“As you stand here in front of me, with those same tears staining your beautiful face, it makes me realize that I had wanted to marry you ever since I was 6 years old. 6!” Gundham laughed at your exclamation, “I already knew I was going to marry you, because I did and still truly believe that you are my soulmate.” You ended, face and nose red from the overwhelming feelings you had.

The priest looked over to Gundham with an encouraging smile, “S/o, when you proposed to me with that... dreaded candy ring, I remember being extremely happy from it. Even though it was nothing but candy, it had meant so much to me because it symbolized so much.” You grinned nostalgically at the memory of the ring pop, squeezing his hands.

“You are, the perfect ruler for me. I love you so much, i can’t begin to even put it in words. I owe everything to you, for you have done so much to make me happy. You’ve always stayed with me no matter what, from 6 years old until now, and I am forever grateful for that. I love you so, so much S/o.” His voice cracked at the end from the emotion hitting him.

You pouted, lips trembling from his heart-felt vows, you just wanted to kiss him already damn it. Letting out a shaky breath, you looked at the priest expectantly. The priest took a breath, "Now then, what you’ve all been waiting for,” A few laughs echoed in the large banquet, some cheers scattered in the crowd.

“Do you S/o L/n, accept Gundham Tanaka as your lifemate and one true love, promising to share in all that life offers and suffers, to be there for him in times of plenty, as well as times of need, to soothe him in times of pain, and to support him in all endeavours, big and small, for as long as you both shall live?" The priest faced you, “I do.” You said without any trace of uncertainty, you have never been so sure of something in your life.

You took Gundham’s ring from the pillow presented to you, grabbing his hand gently as you slipped his ring on, smiling up at him. He was glad to see a ring on his finger that wasn’t made of candy, but he would’ve gotten married to you with anything

"Now, do you Gundham Tanaka, accept S/o L/n as your lifemate and one true love, promising to share in all that life offers and suffers, to be there for them in times of plenty, as well as times of need, to soothe (him/her) in times of pain, and to support them in all endeavours, big and small, for as long as you both shall live?" The priest faced Gundham, “I do.” Without missing a beat, Gundham responded with no hesitance, grabbing your ring of the pillow and slipping it onto your ring finger carefully, bringing up your hand and kissing it.

With trembling lips, your lips curved up into an uncontrollable smile whilst you looked at how pretty the ring looked on your finger. Gundham eyed your pretty lips as an excited smile of his own found itself on his face as he waited for the priest’s next words.

"Family and Friends,", the priest clapped his hands together, "I present to you, for the first-er Second time, Gundham and S/o Tanaka!” Everybody laughed and cheered at the priest’s slip up, whooping the two of you as Gundham cupped your face and brought you into a gentle, emotional kiss. You laughed and cried into the kiss, eagerly kissing him back with as much emotion he gave you.

note; oh god its almost 6am- um, i hope you all enjoyed this long ass fic because dear lord, it took so long to finish qwq well anyhow, i hope its to your liking!

#mod chia #gundham tanaka #gundham x reader #gundham tanaka headcanons #gundham tanaka fluff #gundham tanaka angst #super danganronpa 2 #super danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa #danganronpa oneshot #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa fluff #i want to die its so late #goodbye despair #gundham imagine #sdr2 gundham #i am so tired

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cake-and-spades · 3 years

Note

This is the anon that wanted to explain about experiencing romantic love but not feeling romantic attraction.

So I’m aro and ace, no doubt, but I’m also a very affectionate person, and I’m in a romantic relationship. I kiss and cuddle with my partner, and I enjoy it, even if I’m not romantically attracted to my partner. Never was, never will be. I love my partner like a bestfriend - so not romantically, but an other, very deep love and connection. Like a bestfriend you’ve had since you where 6 that you can tell EVERYTHING, been through SO MUCH together and could easily move in with, kinda like that. A deep bond. OR like an old wife loves her husband? The romantic attraction might not be there anymore, but the love in it’s simple form still is, and she can show/give it romantically. OR, like, best friends with benefits that decided to become a couple, just because they kinda WORK together, not because they developed romantic feelings. Should maybe mention that I think I could live without kissing, I do it mostly because my partner appreciates it. So because I show and give my love this way - in a romantic way, like any other couple - the love we share is romantic, and I am experiencing romantic love - in a way - this way. So Yeah I belive aros can experience romantic love by being willing to, and comfortable with, showing love to a partner in a romantic way, and by that I mean kissing, cuddling, holding hands etc., typical things couples do. Some might say it’s not «real» or «genuine» romantic love, and maybe they’re right, but it’s the closest thing, the «next best», without romantic attraction. I love my partner so deeply in the ways I described, and we show love for each other in a romantic way, I’m not faking anything, so then, am I not experiencing romantic love? In a way? I would say so.

This became very long, almost ranting, I am sorry, I have adhd, it’s 6am, I got excited and struggle with keeping it short, and also pardon my english it’s my 2. language.

Thank you so much for explaining!! 💚

#asks #this makes a lot of sense #your english is fantastic!#i don’t do romantic coded things personally #but framing them as experiencing romance #is such a cool way to show what they are #without taking away from your aro/ace-ness

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rosy-wooyoung · 4 years

Text

Angelic devil | k. hongjoong

word count: 2.7k pairing: demon! hongjoong x fem!reader genre: soulmate au, supernatural au [i tried ok i know it’s not good] warnings: mention of potential assault, might cause to cringe bc it goes too fast, doesn’t make a lot of sense, attempts at being funny??? A/N: when i say assault, it’s more like the reader being followed but her destiny is here to save her. also i love joong :( [damn that gif tho 👀]

You’ve always been known to be the lucky girl in town; you could cross the streets without looking and not get run over, you could go out in freezing winter wearing just a t-shirt, finding money on the ground while walking. You've fallen sick once or twice in your entire life, but it was always just a small cold. Nothing could take you down. You worked at the local convenience store and it was time for you to go home, the next person’s shift wasn’t before 6am. You started gathering your belongings, putting money in the cash register as you grabbed food for your breakfast, turning off the lights before locking the main door. You took a deep breath of the fresh morning air and started walking to your student residence, eager to go to bed. The streets were dead asleep, a roaring motor passing another street here and there.

As told before, you had always been the fortunate one. You heard stories from your classmates or friends about being followed at night while coming out of work or a nightclub, sometimes narrowly escaping an assault, a fight, or worse. But you were always astonished to hear about those stories because it never happened to you, and your friends were dumbfounded as well to learn that you never had similar sordid experiences. You were one block away from your home, passing by another student residence and noticed that some lights were still on, probably some fellow college students working hard. You sighed and enjoyed the quietness of the streets, almost finding relief in the darkness surrounding you. Your moment of peace got disturbed by rushed footsteps coming from behind you.

“What are you doing all alone in the dark, pretty girl? Looking for some fun?” you freed an ear from your headphones and frowned, turning around. “Are you talking to me?” you asked, eyes squinting at the man towering you. Maybe your luck was coming to an end tonight and started to prepare yourself for the worst. You stopped your music and put your hands in your sweatshirt’s pocket, cracking your thumb between your fingers. You kept staring at the man, waiting for an answer.

All of a sudden, the man’s eyes widened and took a step back, then another, raising his arms in surrender. You tilted your head and lifted an eyebrow, not understanding his sudden change of behaviour. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I’m going,” he said in a trembling voice and started running like his life depended on it. You stood there, bewildered, clearing your throat as you started walking again. You looked behind you to see if someone was scaring them, but you were only met with darkness, a meowing cat chasing a rodent. You safely reached your residence, still confused about the stranger’s behaviour but went to sleep without a second thought.

Something similar happened to you the following week, but it was on the bus this time. A man, who was around your dad’s age, kept staring at you and your chest area, your shirt neckline arriving right under your collarbone. Again, you paused your music to confront the man and cracked your thumb again, adopting the same gestures as the last time something like that happened, hoping that it'd work. You stared at him and noticed that his lustful, bothering look progressively switched to a terrorized one, the man flinching at every single of your movements. He swallowed thickly and looked down, hurriedly pressing on the button to open the door before jumping out of the vehicle and running like a mad man in the opposite direction. You chuckled and shook your head, starting your music again as if nothing happened.

You started to think that cracking your thumb would create a sort of shield or spray an "assaulter repellent" around you. Confessing this idea to your friends would make you look insane, so you stayed quiet, still puzzled about your power. The thing is you didn’t have a superpower. Well, you weren't a superhero, but you were one of the rare ones to be provided with a special ability. Cracking your thumb actually woke someone. Someone living in Hell. Before the birth of a person, there was a fight between a weak angel and a weak devil. Two people that didn’t achieve a lot of things in their past life or became criminals. Of course, criminals went to Hell and the others went to Heaven. The winner of the fight has to look after the newborn. But exceptional things sometimes happen.

One of Lucifer’s sons had to fight a beautiful angel, who accidentally died in a car crash. The mother of the future baby one of them had to protect was going into labour, so they had enough time to fight. But there was a problem. When Lucifer’s son saw the woman in front of him for the first time, he felt something in his chest, torturing him every time he thought about killing her. The angel didn’t understand why he was taking so long to fight. She frowned when she saw the devil shed a bloody tear in front of her.

“I can’t kill you,” he harshly muttered as his tear rolled down his neck and stained his shirt, disturbing the woman in front of him. “Why?” she said in a whisper and immediately put a hand on her mouth, noticing that her words made the devil whimper of pain even more. “Because... you are so... precious, so delicate, beautiful, nothing compared to the women in Hell. You’re… different and I can't corrupt you. I can't bring myself to kill you… Do you feel it?” “Feel what?” “This warmth in my chest, what is it? Please tell me what it is. You had emotions in your life, you can help me.” The woman’s eyes widened, and she started thinking, seeing the pregnant woman nearing the hospital. She needed to be quick. “I don’t know! Attraction, love, pity, desire, what could it be?” The devil looked at the woman and the bloody tear stain on his neck toned down at the mention of one of those words. “Repeat those again, slowly. I think it’s working.” The devil said through gritted teeth, clutching his chest. “Attraction… love… pity... desire?” she hesitantly said, spotting another stain shading off at the second word. She froze and took a step back. “Hold on. You love me?” she gasped as his neck came back to its original colour. “Is it what loves feel like?" the devil was worried, seeing the time run, "please tell me how it feels like.” “Hum… Love shouldn’t hurt but sometimes it does, and it will. It knows no limit, it-it doesn’t feel exhausting. It doesn’t need any of the 5 senses, it’s something that you feel in your heart. It’s when you put your lover before you. It's worrying if they are safe, healthy, and okay. I think it's knowing that they are better and more perfect people out there, but you still choose to love the ones you have. It's not a compromise, it's more like a choice.” The woman explained as the devil got closer to her, feeling a foreign feeling invading his senses. “That’s exactly how I feel about you." he heavily breathed, spotting the woman losing her composure. "You just described the thoughts that appear in my devilish brain when I look at you.” “But aren’t we supposed to fight and kill each other?” the woman's voice trembled, taking a step back, but that only made the devil step closer. “I can’t. It’d kill me too, I sense it,” he said before sealing their lips together.

Passion, love, and lust took over their bodies, forgetting their main duty as they were busy doing something else. The devil looked at the angelic face in front of him and pushed pieces of hair out of her face, capturing her lips again as she groaned. From this union was born a supernatural creature, a boy half-devil, half-angelic. He grew up at the same time as the new-born, who he was attributed to, his parents killed since they didn't accomplish their task. You were the new-born this angelic devil was assigned to and he was the reason for your constant luck and fortune. But you didn’t know that this parallel world existed, you just thought it was fate.

One night, you were doing your homework and mindlessly cracked both of your thumbs at the same time as you stretched your arms above your head while reading an article. You immediately stopped mid-air, scared that something bad might happen and you released your thumbs free. You feel your heart stop when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You froze on your spot in your chair and took a deep breath before slowly spinning your chair around. You turned on your desk light and turned it to illuminate your bed, gasping. A boy sat on your bed, curiously touching the fluffy material of your comforter. He squinted and shielded his eyes from the light, making eye contact with his piercing red eyes.

“Who… who are you?” your voice was doubtful as you didn’t know who this boy was and what was he doing in your dorm. Fortunately, you lived alone, because you couldn’t bring yourself to explain to your roommate that you invited someone over when it was clearly prohibited. “Me?” his voice surprised you, not expecting it to be this low. “I’m Hongjoong, the demon that takes care of you.” “The- demon? What? The fuck is this madness? Isn’t it supposed to be a guardian angel’s job? Am I cursed?” “Wow, wow, easy with the questions,” he replied as you sunk in your chair. “Don’t be afraid of me, I won’t hurt you. If you die I die too, so what’s the point of hurting you?” “You can feel when I’m in pain?” you asked, your mind blown at his words. “Yes I- ow!” he flinched as you purposefully punched your thigh. “what was that for?” “To see if you were lying.” You said and his eyes darkened. “Why would I- Stop! I’m already suffering enough, you’re so clumsy on the daily!” He stated as you pinched your forearm, slightly snickering.

“Oh really? I didn’t realise,” you shrugged, and he smirked, showing off some bruises on his body, pressing some and you winced, touching the same area on your body. “And the fact that I can walk around the streets in the middle of the night without getting attacked, is it also thanks to you?” he nodded, and you smiled, relieved that you weren’t going crazy. “Since my dad was a devil and my mom an angel, I can be both when you need it. Everything depends on the thumb you decide to crack to summon me. If you crack your left thumb, I'm a demon and if you crack your right thumb, obviously, I become an angel.” You attentively listened to the man in front of you instead of doing your homework, which was completely forgotten on the side. “You always mindlessly crack your right thumb when you’re doing a test, that’s why you correct your answers every time.”

“That’s insane that you can control my mind like that.” You passed a hand in your hair and he laughed, looking as harmless as possible. "I don’t control your mind, I just have a watchful eye on you, but you are also a very special human. I can list a lot of things you do without thinking that summon me," he grinned as you sheepishly smiled, red spreading on your cheeks. “My last question,” you said, a bit more hesitantly this time, “are you also the reason why I’m single? It’s getting pretty lonely down here on Earth,” you mumbled the end of your sentence and Hongjoong felt a pang in his chest.

Why did you have to ask this question?

“Yes,” he admitted, and you sighed, starting to feel a bit mad. “But why?” you mumbled. “I wanna be happy, why do you prevent me from doing so?” “I don't,” he replied, raising his voice, “it’s not my fault if you go to the worst men in town! I protect you by stopping you from dating bad people!” “That’s bullshit!” you suddenly said, your mind going crazy. Nothing made sense and you started to have a headache. You were talking to a supernatural creature, not really sure if he existed or not. How could a demon protect you from people that were meant to be sent where he lived? What was happening? “It’s not nonsense, I'm only telling the truth!” he rambled, crossing his arms on his chest. You turned around and mumbled a small “selfish” before turning around and started reading again. You felt something in your chest area, but you didn’t know what it was.

“Hey, I’m right here and I can hear you,” he sighed, but you ignored him. You were really going crazy. You stared at the window and noticed that he was still here in the reflection, proving you that it wasn’t something you straight coming out of your imagination. “I can hear your thoughts, you’re not going crazy,” “Get out of my mind!” you said as you screamed in your head, Hongjoong flinching at the sudden noise. “Okay, okay, I’m out!” he said as he covered his ears. You stopped and he looked up at you, something changed in his eyes. “There’s also something I didn’t tell you,” he said, and you nodded, preparing yourself to hear something magical or supernatural. “I’m in love with you,” you dropped your pen at his words, eyebrows furrowing, “it was a lie, you were right. I did protect you from bad people in the past, but I prevented you from seeing anyone out of pure selfishness. I wanted you to meet me and fall in love with me, not with someone else.”

That’s what you felt in your chest, his previous words were a lie. You knew that he was lying. You remained silent and started observing him, taking in his facial features. His almond eyes were beautiful, changing colours according to his emotions. When honesty and love appeared, they were light and brown, almost shining despite the darkness of your room. His skin was honey-like and looked as soft as whipped cream, his high nose bringing a soft feature on his face, making him look extremely pretty. He shyly smiled as you continued to stare at him and you smiled too, his beaming face making you fall harder for him. He looked so angelic when he showed happiness and love, his honest eyes almost sending hearts to you. However, he must be terrifying when he's mad, suddenly remembering the two frightened men that could have easily taken advantage of you if you were defenceless.

“Is it possible for a human to date someone like you?” you questioned him, startling him as he was focused on trying to hear your thoughts. He cleared his throat and slowly nodded as if he was unsure about his answer. “I don’t know what will happen to me, but I think it’s possible.” “To you? Why would something happen to only you?” “Because I was assigned to you at your birth. I don’t know if they would consider it as a fail, but I might disappear." You nodded and cracked your right thumb, a sudden halo appearing above his head and you crawled on your bed next to him. He looked so angelic that you cooed, slowly tracing with your finger the details of his cheekbone. Your gesture made him shy and you grabbed his hand, swiftly drawing him closer and kissed his cheek. You deeply inhaled as you felt a warmth spreading in your chest.

“I guess it’s possible, right?” you asked, and he nodded, grabbing your middle and made you fall back on your bed. You circled your arms around your neck and deeply stared in his gorgeous eyes, his shining halo reflecting into his brown orbits. “Let’s make it happen, then,” he suggested and you eagerly nodded, earning a smile from the young man. He licked his lips and grabbed your chin, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. The softest you’ve ever felt in your life. It was feathery and filled with love, bringing you nothing but a smile on your face.

“I think I’m falling for you,” you admitted while giggling and Hongjoong’s face stretched with a smile, only to kiss you again. “Good thing, because I think I’m falling too.”

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daily-dose-of-imagines · 3 years

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(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Matchup ♥

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Naruto, One Piece, and Free Match-Up Request

May I request another match-up but for Free, One Piece, and Naruto this time? :) Here’s all my info once more!

Name: Corethra (or Corey for short)

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Hand Packer at an ice cream factory. I work 12 hours (5:30pm to 6am) on a rotating schedule.

Birthplace: Memphis, TN, USA. I was raised in the neighborhood called Frayser which is the most impoverished area in Memphis and has a high crime rate as expected.

Zodiac Sign: Pisces (born March 2) My full birth chart can be found here

Enneagram: 5w6

Chinese Zodiac: Year Of The Pig

MBTI Type: INFJ

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Love Language: Acts Of Service

Race/Ethnicity: African-American

Height: 4'11 (Call me short and I’ll kick your butt!)

Body Type/Shape: Average but well developed figure at best. I weigh about 158 lbs and am pretty insecure about my body. I also have really bad scars on my left arm from being bitten by a dog.

Hair Color/Style: Black and naturally curly but I keep it flat-ironed so it’s straight. It’s long and goes down to just below my shoulder blades. There are times when I will have braids put in of various lengths.

Glasses or No?: Yes I wear glasses

Eye Color: Brown

Dress Style: I usually dress up in a casual way, just throwing on whatever looks good at the time but I will sometimes put in the effort when the time calls for it or when I’m in a good mood. I have an affinity for the punk, emo, and goth styles and I rarely wear feminine clothes but I will wear something risky every once in a while.

Hobbies/Interests: Video games, reading, writing, anime, internet surfing, listening to music, politics (sometimes), watching movies/TV shows, basically being an overall nerd. I’m usually either on my laptop or one of my many video game consoles if I’m not on my phone or reading one of my books.

Dislikes: Ignorance, stupidity, restriction, manipulation/gas-lighting, bullying, humanity, not being understood, corruption/injustice, close-mindedness

Personality: At first glance, I seem quiet and keep to myself, only speaking when I need to or when I’m spoken to. I’m an anti-social introvert to the fullest and don’t care much for small talk or going out. I prefer to have deeper conversations. When I get comfortable enough in whatever environment I’m in, I start to open up bit by bit. I’m a tomboy and pretty rough-minded as well as stubborn. I’m very sassy, have a smart, sarcastic, and witty mouth if not humorous and outrageous at times, can be borderline rude and mean, and I’m more sensitive than I care to be. I can literally cry at someone’s suffering especially if it’s someone I’m close to or even a total stranger. I’m very empathetic and my heart is bigger than what most people would expect. Most people describe me as quiet, intelligent, creative, dorky, a smartass, and really sweet. I love a good laugh and have an open sense of humor to boot.

Many of my friends say that I’m very sweet and kind which I usually am if I’m in a good mood as well as affectionate as hell. Hugs and pet names galore with me! However only my friends and family see that side of me. My language is often unfiltered, harsh, foul, and blunt which shocks people because they think I’m a pure angel. I say what I want when I want and no one tells me otherwise. If they do, they can expect a mouthful from me. I’m an escapist and very imaginative, can be a bit scatterbrained at times, and I’m methodical and detailed to the point of perfectionism. I’m usually a walking contradiction in terms of personality in so many ways to the point where the real me is almost impossible to decipher. To make matters more complicated, I’m not very good at expressing myself verbally and prefer to let my actions do the talking. I also express myself better through written form.

I have many pet peeves and I get annoyed easily in general. I’m also slowly embracing misanthropy and nihilism but I can be pretty idealistic so it balances out. I’m practically zero tolerance when it comes to bullshit. I hate confrontation and conflict but I’m starting to work on it so I can be less passive-aggressive and more assertive. I also wish to stand up for myself more often than I should so people won’t think that I’m weak and an easy target. I’m pretty cynical which is to be expected and usually expect the worst from people. When someone angers me, I will either just withdraw altogether and completely cut them off (slam the door basically) or get in their face and go off before doing the former. I’m the “hold my anger in and release it all at once” type but I hope to change that one day and stop letting things fester before they get out of hand. I can be quite petty and even cold as well and if someone wrongs me, they will have to make the first move to mend fences. I refuse to apologize if I’m not in the wrong and I will not accept gaslighting/guilt tripping. I also refuse to change for others and will admit to having quite a lot of pride but that’s mostly due to me not wanting to be hurt and manipulated, mistreated, or used.

I have issues with trust and a wild imagination to boot. I usually trust my instincts and can see right through bullshit. I don’t like taking risks and I have to know all the details when I do something so I don’t mess up and look like an idiot. I am indeed a perfectionist and introverted to a fault which often prevents me from trying new things and going outside my comfort zone. I haven’t been in a relationship yet and am still a virgin due to my issues with trust and not wanting to be hurt or humiliated as well as being quite picky/perfectionistic with the people I allow in my life. I have high standards for both people and myself although I’m pretty laid-back and my dislike of conflict allows me to also take a lot of shit from people too before I eventually say “fuck it” and slam the door or go off on them. I don’t think very highly of myself and can sometimes fall into a period of self-hatred and self-pity.

Many people praise me for my intelligence which is fitting since I’m an intellectual. My ideals and beliefs are rather odd to say the least (I’m a classical liberal/independent and despise most ideologies/ideas. This includes religion, feminism, social justice, traditionalism, statism, big government, nationalism, socialism/communism, etc.) and I feel misunderstood because of it (mostly because of the black community ostracizing me). I am indeed a rebel, open-minded, and a free thinker. No one tells me how to think or feel or else they face my wrath. I highly value power over myself and I think it’s the most important thing that a person needs in order to survive. I am definitely an outcast at heart and I often distance myself from others and don’t like talking about my feelings or beliefs because I think most people lack the ability/capacity to understand me. Before I give my opinion on something, I like to do as much research as possible as well as look at things from all perspectives before coming to my own conclusion. I don’t mind discussing things but I prefer logic over emotion when doing so which makes it damn near impossible these days for me to have an real conversation without insults and threats being thrown (usually towards me). Chances are I’m gonna find something wrong with damn near anything someone believes in or says and I’m not afraid to call it out when I see it. Once I do open up and express how I feel, the gates of passion will open up and never close. I also have high morals and values and stick to my guns no matter what which can make me pretty stubborn at times.

I’m currently battling depression and often experience many symptoms of it including suicidal thoughts and depression spells. I also suffer from iron-deficiency anemia as well as irregular, prolonged periods. These things are pretty annoying for me to deal with whenever they flare up.

Overall, I’m pretty crazy and a handful to deal with. Good luck matching me up with someone :P

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Hello @sacredwarrior88 and thank you so much for requesting with us! I am so sorry that this came out so late, but I do hope you enjoy this!

>Admin 𝕋

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽…

Ace! I feel that you and ace would be such a great couple! He is open minded and kind to others whereas you are the same way! You are passionate like he is, caring like he is, loyal to the bone like he is! He would see you and see your personality and just instantly fall in love you and your personality! Like, I can’t even imagine how much he will want you on his crew, so they he can keep on you and protect you at all times-- though he will soon figure out that you don’t need help, you can take care yourself--which he will find extremely attractive, no doubt about that!

He will love that fact that you are independent, because he really values individualism and independency, he sees it as a great traits to have. But he will also love the fact that you are sensitive, and can sometimes get into your own head. He understands that, knows it all too well, so he will try with all his might to try and make sure that you are happy and always smiling! But he will love how fierce you can be to other people, never bowing down to their expectations!

All in all, I feel like Ace would be a great man for you in the one piece universe! He would be attentive to you, would love your attitude and personality, and would absolutely adore how loyal and strong you are! make sure to love him thoroughly!

Ah, Sai! He is much like Ace, just a little less emotional, which is fine! I feel like you and Sai would make a couple for a couple reasons! He would love how mature you are, and how logical you can be, and-- like ace-- he loves the fact that you are extremely loyal to your friends! That is a true factor in the way he will see you, and it is for the better! He will se how strong you are, emotionally and will be envious and at the same time fascinated! I Feel like Sai will look at you with wide eyes, his breath caught in his throat, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage because he will love you that much! All the things you are interested he will want to hear with enthusiasm, everything you love he will want to learn and hear from you, to get to know you better!

Another thing is that if you were to go to him with your insecurities and how you are battling depression, he will try to understand, and once he does he will try to everything and anything to make sure you feel better! You need a massage? He’s on it! You need cuddles? oh yeah he will give you some! You need chocolate or sweets or anything of the like? He’ll run to the store, and be back 5 minutes tops!

All in all, I feel like the cool, mature Sai, with a heart of pure gold will be such a good match for you! He will make sure that you uncomfortable with him, he will never want to make you unhappy, and he will definitely do anything i his power to make sure that you will keep on loving him as much as you can!

Rei! Now, with Rei, I wanted to go a more cute route. I feel that Rei would be equal parts and scared and in love with you! He sees how strong you are against people that oppose, he sees how strong you are for your friends, and how you have such a different personality to everybody else around him, and he will immediately fall in with you. Like instantly! To him, you’d be like a beautiful butterfly blooming right in front of him, and he will want to have you all tot himself! Of course, he won’t force you, but he will definitely watch you at a distance longingly!

He is very much an introvert and your calm but strong aura would definitely help with his anxiety! I just see him melting next you, into your lap or shoulder whenever you are around him because he is so comfortable around you. He doesn’t do this with just anybody so it would be a real honor! And when it it comes to your insecurities, he would want to make sure that you know he loves you the way are, and if you were to want to change something about yourself, then he will support you all the way, as long as you are happy! He will just love that you are such a freethinker and so openminded about things, so unlike him!

All in all, I feel like Rei would love you and (somewhat) idolize because you have all these traits that he would love to have. This perfectionist will understand how it feels to be such a perfectionist and will want to help you with that too! He will love to the moon and back(stroke)!

#match-ups #matchup #submissions #anime matchup #submission #naruto matchup #free! matchup #one piece matchup #naruto x you #free x you #one piece x you

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jj-lynn21 · 4 years

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How A Girl Must Live Ch 1

Ch1: A place for singles

Ch 2: Popular, Ch 3 Opening Up ch 4: Dating Ch 5:Family

Ch 6 Violence begets Violence Ch 7 Love Birds Ch 8 The Big Fight

ch 9: The Flash back

Notes: AU Willard Russel. In this story he still went off to the war. Instead of going home, one of the other soldiers offered him a job at a resort in the Catskills Mountains in New York. He has been there five years when the story starts. So, it makes him about twenty-five. The ages of those that come into the resort are 18-21 for females, 18-25 for males. The only warning I could put on this chapter is that it is 1950s so there were some rules for women that most of us would think of as ridiculous now. Our main female character sure thinks they are, but she was raised to go along with society, for the most part. No smut until the last few chapters.

taging: @super-pink-a-palouza @luciferreads @glasglowgrin @loomiz @princessloveme123 @hornyhetero @taintedglass @bohemian-brian @maryan028 @optimisticwagoneagleparty @scxrsgxrd ,@waywardtigersandwich @theskarsgardcult @babyboy-cody @bskarsgardlove92 @bill-skarsgard-owns-my-ass @shenevertricks1831

Thank you so much for the moodboard to start this off @flowers-in-your-hayr

It was spring break 1950 when Samantha Davenport’s father insisted, she needed to find a man. There had already been talk about her amongst his friends that something might not be right about his daughter since she was about to turn 19 and had no male companion. No suiters at the door vying for her attention. So, he sent her to a resort that was known for putting people together. Some even ended up married at the resort surrounded by friends and family.

“Mother, why is Father sending me away like I did something wrong?” Samantha pouted with her arm flung over her chaise lounge dramatically. “I am perfectly happy being single. My friend Tami has a dotting husband and three kids. She ain’t no happier than me.”

“Is not happier.” Her Mother corrected. “I do hope they encourage proper grammar at this resort for young people.”

Samantha rolled her eyes while her Mother’s back was turned. “Won’t I learn that at that God-awful finishing school that starts in the Fall?”

“Do not take the lords name in vain like that young lady,” She slammed the pink suitcase closed. “Your Father knows what is best for this family. Until you are blessed with a husband to help you make correct decisions, you will listen to your Father. Let us get you to the car. Your Father is waiting.”

Samantha huffed and stomped to the car. Her Father was waiting with his legs crossed at the ankles. He tipped his hat to his Ladies. Then he moved around the car to open the front door. “Mother.”

“Thank you, Father,” his wife smiled politely as she got in the car.

He opened the back door. “My beautiful free-spirited little girl.”

“Thank you, Father.” She felt deflated as she got in the car.

The car was quiet, other than the radio playing Elvis, The Platters, Pat Boone, Dean Martin, and other popular crooners of the time. It was a six-hour drive from Summerland, Ohio to the Mountain Lake Resort in Catskills, New York. As she listened to the music she glanced through the brochure for the place.

The rooms looked nice enough. Four girls would room together. Friendships were expected. The boys were roomed in a different part of the building. An elegant dining area was found between the girls' and boys' areas. There was a lake and pool where daily activity would be held. Hiking, crafts, and board games were also organized to have something to interest all guests. The young people had to get involved with a minimum of three events per day. No smoking or drinking by any of the young ladies. The young men would have dedicated times when they would learn to drink and smoke casually.

It seemed unfair having to take part in dumb activities. And the rules were worse than home. Her Father let her go shopping with her girlfriends and drive her own car without a man beside her. At the resort there always had to be a man to escort the ladies on the premises. They were to wait in the morning for a knock on the door at 6am. An escort would be there to bring them to breakfast. They could only speak when spoken to.

A girl would not deny a gentleman's advances. Dating was strongly encouraged. Samantha thought it was absurd to have to entertain morons just so they did not feel bad about themselves. She would not be forced into a relationship to appease her parents. The idea of the man of her dreams being at some camp to get young people married off was ridiculous.

When they pull up to the main building young gentlemen line the walkway. They are all dressed in impressive suits of grey, navy or black with ties. One of them rushes to open the back door. “Welcome to the resort Miss.” He tilted his hat with a smile.

“Sam.” She said with a smirk.

Her Father got out of the car to get her suitcase out of the trunk. “Have an enjoyable time Samantha.”

“I’ll take her suitcase, Sir.” The young man stuck out his hand.

Her Father handed the suitcase over happily. Her Mother waved to her from the car. She had a huge proud smile on her face as if dropping her daughter off at such a place as this was a huge accomplishment.

“Follow me Miss Samantha.” The young man started walking and she followed as instructed. He took her into a communal area. Boys at the tables on the right. Girls at the tables on the left. There were some windows at the far end where she could see tables for two and four set up. “Have a seat, Miss Samantha. This is Miss Pamala, Miss Missy and Miss Flora. They will be your roommates. I will take your suitcase to your room.”

“Thank you,” She croaked softly as she sat down.

The girls in unison giggled as they greeted her with a, “Hello, Samantha.” They all seemed just giddy to be there.

“I can hardly wait to be paired with my future Husband.” Missy squealed.

Pamala chided her. “Now Missy you should date many boys here to find the right one. You date some even more than once to make sure you are compatible.” She giggled.

“What is your strategy for finding a perfect husband, Samantha?” Flora asked. “I am going to play hard to get with all the boys until I choose who I want. Of course, I will make him think he chose me.” She laughs with the rest of them.

“I have no plan.” Samantha’s voice was dull compared to the manic girls around her. “My parents think I can find my heart's desire here. I very much doubt that. But good luck to you three.”

“Just look at all of them over there.” Missy giggled. “The odds are in our favor.”

Samantha rolled her eyes. A couple in their late forties stepped out between the young men and young girls. The man tipped his fedora to the crowd before taking it off to hold to his chest with one hand. His other hand held his wife’s hand. He kissed it politely before letting it go. She curtsied to the room.

“Good evening young people,” The man looked around the room making eye contact with some. “We are the Jones. You may call my wife Mrs. Sally. Please refer to me as Mr. Jones. Ladies are always to be called by their first names with Mrs. In front of it if they are married and Miss before that. All gentlemen here will be referred to as Mr. with their last name after. We do this so our ladies soon to be Wives and Mother’s we hope, will know the name they are to take. And the gentlemen should always know the first name of his possible wife when he is introduced to her.”

His wife kept a smile on her face. She looked at him in adoration as he spoke. She said nothing. She waited for him to allow her to speak.

“We have a few rules.” The room groaned. “There are not many. They are not difficult to follow. You will all be dress in your finest daily. That is suit and tie for the boys. And dresses for the girls. Petticoats are optional but highly recommended. No slang words or curses here. You will always talk properly. Ladies will always be accompanied by a gentleman. My lovely wife will now talk to you about meals.”

“Good evening everyone.” His wife curtsied to everyone again. “Tonight, I helped Chef Joseph cook a chopped steak with baked potatoes for the boys and garden salads for our girls. Well, Mr. Joseph grilled the steaks and potatoes. I just threw together a salad he told me how to make. After tonight's dinner, I know you will all need some rest.

The boys room numbers coincide with the number on their table. Our young ladies will be escorted to their room by one of our male staff members. In the morning at six, girls you will start hearing a knock at the door. You will be ready to come down to breakfast prompting with the young man we send for you. Maybe he will be the one.” She was as giddy as some of the young girls about that comment.

Samantha was already annoyed. It increased when Tab soft drinks were set on her table. She had no problem with her shape and the other girls at the table were varied sizes but that did not mean they all did not deserve a hamburger, fries, and a Milkshake like she would normal have when hanging out with friends. She never drank diet soda like Tab. Her Mother ate salads often. She did sometimes. But usually they all had meat, potatoes, and vegetables.

“I’m sorry, I was babbling on so.” Mrs. Sally apologized looking at her husband. “Is there anything else you need to address, Sir?”

“You did as good as I expected Mrs. Sally.” He gave her shoulder a little squeeze that elated her. “All young girls are not to smoke or drink. It is not lady like. If your husband chooses to let you that is between you and him. Here you will not partake in such things. After the girls are in their rooms to get their beauty sleep any boys who want to partake in an after-dinner smoke and drink may do so under our supervision. That is the only time you will be allowed to do such things. Does everyone understand?”

“Yes Mr. Jones.” The room howled.

“Good, now let’s enjoy our dinner.” He clapped. Women brought out the food on large platters for the young men and bowls for the girls. Samantha was starving. When she took large bites of her salad, the other girls just looked at her like she was insane. They all took small bites. Missy even used a knife to cute hers up. The others followed her lead.

“Do you want your future husband to see you eating like such, such a heathen.” Miss Missy whispered.

Samantha’s mouth hung open for a second. “I down cheeseburgers in front of boys all the time. This is just salad and I am starving. “

“Well, maybe that is the reason you are not happily married by now.” Miss Pamala guessed with a snideness to the remark.

“If the men here only care about how I eat instead of who I am, then I guess I won’t meet anyone this way.” Samantha laughed before taking another huge bite just to annoy the other girls.

When a man was sent to the table to escort Samantha to her room, she went willingly just to get away from the girls she was sitting with for a few minutes. The young man who escorted her walked with his chin up looking ahead without conversing with her at all. She was fine with that. It took her roommates another half hour to finish eating before joining her. She pretended to be asleep in the twin bed on the right of the room closest to the window.

Samantha was restless laying in the bed. Her stomach was growling also. The other girls were sleeping dreaming of their wedding days. She decided to tiptoe to the kitchen to see what she could find. She did not know where the kitchen was, but it had to be somewhere behind the double doors the food was brought from at the dinner.

She walked slow and steady down to the stairwell. She thought the elevator bell would alert someone to her late-night snack walk. She glanced both ways when she opened the stairway door to the main floor. No one was insight. She headed to the dining area thinking she would be free and clear but there were voices from the room.

“One more hand, boys.” A deep voice echoed. “No wilds. Treat your cards like a Lady. Respect them. Gaze at them lovingly. And make sure no one else thinks theirs are better than yours.”

Samantha snuck around them in the shadows as the boys laughed. The voices get muted as she slides into the double doors catching them, so they do not shut loud in the darkness. The kitchen was a sterile silver with a ceiling light in the center. She reached up to pull the string to turn it on. The area only illuminated slightly. There was a window at the fair end so she could she how the lighting would be fine once the sun shone in on the room.

On her toes she reached to open a cupboard to find a snack, a glass or both. She found juice glasses. Then she opened the refrigerator to find more vegetables for salads which she had enough of already. But there was also freshly squeezed orange juice ready for the morning. She poured herself a glass. When she walked out after putting away the juice and shutting the light off, she stopped to hear the guys chatting, smoking cigars, and playing poker.

“I will marry a beautiful girl to make my parents happy,” The one boy was saying. “Then it is off to the army for me to defend this great country.”

“I don’t suggest that young man,” The deeper voiced guy suggested. “You don’t want to see the things I saw. You do not want to be part of that messed up world unless you have to, you dig? I saw a man skinned alive. You do not want to see that kid. I don’t want you to see that.” His voice sounded haunted by the memory.

“Well, I’m going to keep my girl in line just like my Dad does.” Another younger voice chimed in. “Just smack her right in the chops if she sasses, disobeys or...”

Samantha heard a bang on the table that made her gasp audibly and drop her glass shattering it on the floor.

“You should never treat a woman like that,” The deeper voice seethed. “If I see or hear of you laying one hand on these ladies you will be out of here. And If I ever see you or your Father lay a hand on a Lady in my presence that moment will come back to haunt you three-fold.” He gets up. Straightens his tie and turns towards toward the noise. He softens his face smiling. “I’m sorry Miss. I did not mean to startle you. I was just teaching these fellas a few things. Hopefully, they listened.”

She nodded slowly scared she was in much more trouble than the boy he threatened since she broke a rule. “I’m, I just needed a drink. I’ll be going back to my room after cleaning up the glass.”

“The boys will clean up the glass.” He rose out of the chair towering over her.

“Yes, Sir.” She glanced up his entire frame noticing his broad shoulders to his large bright green eyes that caught hers. Then she quickly looked down.

“Isn’t that women’s work.” One of the men complained

The tall slender man glared at the boys, “If a woman is frightened, we help her even if it means cleaning up a mess once in a while.” He looked to Samantha holding out his hand. “I will escort you back to your room Miss.”

“I’m Sam, well Samantha.” She took his hand nervously.

Samantha and the tall guy started walking away as the boys found a broom to sweep up the mess. It took them a few minutes. They also cleaned up the card game and empty beer bottles and the ashtray.

“I’m Mr. Russel.” the tall guy said as he pushed the elevator button. “Willard Russel. Do not worry, I will not say anything about you being out without an escort. You seem like a perfectly capable young lady to get a drink on her own. But please forgive my behavior with Mr. Goodland. I despise those that do not treat women with respect. What floor?”

“Seven.” She murmured. “I’m glad there are more men than my Father that believe that hitting women are wrong, Mr. Russel.”

“You just come to me if any of our boys get out of hand.” He put his arm out for her to get off the elevator first and walked her to her door. “I hope you find an absolutely true love here.” His face lit up when he really smiled.

“Thank you, kindly Mr. Russel,” She smiled back barely realizing she was doing it.

He opened the door she stopped at. She went inside and he closed it quietly behind her.

#fan fiction #willard russel #bill skarsgard #willard and samantha #1950s #how a girl must live #TDATT #the devil all the time

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winetae · 5 years

Text

⇾ what you did last summer (m).

⇁ female reader x yoongi

⇁ smut, trophy wife!au

⇁ slowburn, dom!yoongi, age difference, consensual non-monogamy, power imbalance, semi-public sex, objectification, face-fucking, derogatory language and possessive behavior during sex, creampie, cum marking, unsafe sex, everyone is kind of slutty, not as wildt as warnings may imply

⇁ unnecessarily long for a pwp. 33.8k. phew.

. . .

Yoongi was fine with a lot of things—you maxing out his credit cards to buy ridiculously expensive items of clothing that you never wore more than once, you taking out his newest ride for a spin without permission, you spending an extra thirty minutes on your hair and makeup when he was running late for a dinner function.

What he was not okay with, however, was you sharing your pussy with barely-out-of-college boys who were incapable of going five seconds without creaming their pants.

No, that was where he drew the line.

↳ alternatively titled; How to Get Dick - an autobiography written by (you)

author’s note | while this fic does contain a semblance of plot, the focus is more on characterization which i understand can make for a boring read. also note that i have done (0) research and despite having owned a pool, still to this day do not know how to clean one.

written for 1 of my closest friends @tayegi as the most belated bday gift to have ever been gifted. ily :( ty for having passionate naruto-related discussions w/ me at 6am. u r the real deal !

(!) pls read the warnings. uncomfortable subject matter if delved in too deeply. tbh i didn’t know how to tag. also yoongi is older in this fic - an age gap is there and implied although none of the characters’ ages are specified.

song inspo: needy - ariana grande. that’s all! enjoy! hopefully! /cries

{THURSDAY. 10:23 am.}

“Hi, um, I’m Jungkook.”

The man shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling all sorts of self-conscious.

In stark contrast to his casual appearance, you looked neatly put together, not a strand of hair out of place. His well worn jeans and simple white tee looked terribly shabby in comparison to the tailored cream colored dress that hugged your figure. Jungkook didn’t need to check the original price tag or the label stitched onto the fabric to know that your outfit was Expensive (with a capital E for emphasis).

Doubt made his stomach turn. Had there been a dress code stated somewhere in the job description? Given Jungkook’s disposition, it didn’t seem very likely that he had overlooked such a crucial detail. He was the type to obsess over the smallest details, always double-checking everything before giving the go ahead.

Yet despite all of the precautions he was certain he had taken, Jungkook was unable to shake off the feeling of being disgustingly underdressed.

Worry bubbled in the pit of his stomach. His palms began to sweat as his gaze flitted back and forth between the pale pink freshwater pearls hanging off your neck and the clothes he had haphazardly thrown on this morning.

Well at least they were ironed, he mused. It was but a small consolation—the denim was faded from one wash too many and the frayed holes near his kneecaps made his jeans look tattered. Had he known the neighborhood would be this posh, he would have chosen his outfit with greater care. Right now he regretted not putting in more effort, if only to blend in with his surroundings. As he was now, he looked distinctly out of place. Almost as ridiculous as Samsung’s CEO taking a leisurely stroll through the downtown dollar store.

Jungkook half-expected you to take one glance at him, upturn your nose and slam the polished oak door in his face. In his panicked state, a number of embarrassing scenarios reeled through his mind, each one filling him with nauseating dread.

It was your expectant expression that snapped him out of his daze. He slowly blinked back into focus, realizing he had paused for a few seconds too long, and he cleared his throat.

A smile stretched across his face, not quite of the genuine kind. He squared his shoulders for good measure, doing his best to conceal the stress shaking up his insides.

“My name is Jeon Jungkook. I spoke to Mr. Min on the phone yesterday. I was expected to arrive at ten thirty?” His voice rose a little at the end, uncertain. It hadn’t been meant to be phrased as a question but his nerves made his voice quiver.

“Ah, yes, of course. And right on time, too.” Jungkook had made sure of it; he despised running late. “Nice to meet you, I’m ______,” you greeted, voice as smooth as velvet.

He tried not to openly stare because wow. Your blinding smile looked straight out of a Colgate advertisement, a tad too white to be completely natural.

Once again, you had him feeling self-conscious and all too aware of his own, less than perfect appearance. Whether it was the anxiety or the scorching heat beating down his back—or an unpleasant mix of both—a film of perspiration formed over his skin, leaving him sticky and uncomfortable.

Jungkook discreetly wiped off his palms against his denim clad thighs before taking your outstretched hand in his.

Despite your small size, your grip was surprisingly firm. If you noticed how abnormally clammy his hand was, you refrained from commentary. Instead, you held the door open a bit wider and ushered him inside the imposing abode.

“You can follow me. I’ll show you around to the back.”

He gave a little jerky nod and let you take the lead. For a moment, all he could hear was the nervous beat of his heart and the steady click-clack of your heels against the immaculate white floor tiles.

Jungkook blushed, quickly turning his head the moment he caught himself staring at your swaying hips. He wet his lips, his eyes darting around for any kind of distraction.

Inwardly, he scolded himself as he pinched the bit of flesh between his thumb and index finger.

Workplace crushes were never a good idea. Wasn’t it, like, written down in the code of conduct or something? It didn’t even have to be a rule. It was just common sense.

And Jungkook had no plans to fuck this job up. Summer jobs that paid this kind of money were scarce and hard to find. For someone like him who needed the money desperately, this job was a godsend, one that he would never dare pass up.

From the moment he had set foot onto Mr. Min’s property, Jungkook had realized that this wouldn’t be anything like his other part-time jobs that had consisted of repainting his neighbor’s fence and watering Mrs. Anderson’s flowers whenever she left town to visit her son. But this? This wouldn’t be just another pool cleaning job, that was for sure.

For one, the mansion, like every house in the vicinity, reeked of money. In his eyes, they all seemed to be competing against each other, with ridiculous, Disneyland-esque shaped hedges and wide, winding driveways capable of fitting several imported cars at a time. On the drive over, Jungkook had even spotted a marble fountain planted in the middle of someone’s front yard, clear water spouting out of a cupid’s arrow. He half expected peacocks and other exotic animals to parade across their lawns like some kind of zoo.

He could only assume that most of these ostentatious properties were owned by business tycoons or AAA-list celebrities. He cast a glance around as he tried to guess which of the two categories his employer belonged to.

To his dismay, there was nothing that particularly stood out to him. In all honesty it was…a little underwhelming. Jungkook had been expecting something jaw dropping in its obnoxiousness but he could spot no cupid fountains or gigantic aquariums built in the wall or pet tigers in gilded cages.

Mr. Min, whoever he was, seemed to favor subtlety. There were no life-sized cutouts of his person, no trophy collection showing off his achievements. The walls were painted an off-white, only decorated by the occasional painting. There were no family portraits, no personal belongings indicating that a person actually lived and breathed in this house. If he hadn’t known beforehand, Jungkook would have believed himself to be in some fancy hotel, not a home.

But the lack of personal ornaments did nothing to quell Jungkook’s growing curiosity. Questions whizzed through his brain. Was his employer a successful plastic surgeon? The living space somewhat reminded him of his dentist’s waiting room. Very clinical and clean. Then again, there was really no telling who he was working for. Maybe they were one of those Wolf of Wall Street stock brokers that owned dozens of unused vacation homes. Or, perhaps, Mr. Min happened to be one of those top-of-the-food-chain entertainment producers… His name did sound awfully familiar for some reason he couldn’t—

Jungkook hadn’t even realized his footsteps had slowed down, too caught up in his thoughts.

“You enjoy art?” The sound of your voice roused him from his ruminations. He jumped, head snapping in your direction so fast his neck throbbed.

Your head was tilted in what seemed to be—interest? The angle drew attention to the slope of your neck and for a few short seconds, Jungkook freaked out, wondering if it was normal to find the delicate curve of someone’s neck attractive. Was that too weird? Luckily he hadn’t been outright staring but he could still feel the tips of his ears heat up in embarrassment.

A beat passed as he finally registered your question. Did he like—? Oh. Somewhat belatedly, he realized that you had been talking about the work of art hung up on the far right wall. He must have been staring at it earlier without noticing. Was it a painting? A sculpture? He scratched his neck, not really knowing how to identify it. He couldn’t tell what it was supposed to represent, either, no matter how long he examined it.

“Not particularly... I mean,” he quickly backtracked, suddenly worried this was some kind of test. “I like it, I just don’t know much about it.”

It was easier to settle for honesty. Lying had never been his strongest suit. Besides, as much as he’d like to impress you, he had no actual knowledge to show off. And he’d rather be ignorant than a liar. Knowledge—well, he could always catch up on and learn what he didn’t know. Trust, however, was hard to earn back when lost.

“I find certain pieces nice to look at but my appreciation for art is rather superficial.”

Although you covered it well, he could tell you were slightly put off by his answer, almost as if you had been expecting something else. Jungkook worried his bottom lip, nervous he had said the wrong thing.

“I see...” Your eyes slid over to the artwork. “Beauty is subjective, isn’t it? Art is supposed to adhere to those rules, too. Some people will find this pretty, some won’t. And yet... It’s not that simple, either. Who assigns value to a piece? The artist or the consumer? I wonder about that sometimes.”

Jungkook nodded, unsure what else to say. You didn’t seem to mind the lack of commentary, continuing on, “I think about it a lot, actually. How do you define someone’s worth?”

Your expression shifted into something indecipherable, gaze slightly glassy, mind elsewhere. Remembering yourself, you covered it up with a polite smile.

“That there is a Rudolf Stingel piece, worth just a little over 5 million. It’s one of my favorites.”

He covered his shock with a loud cough that sounded more like a choke.

“Five million?” Disbelief colored his tone. Five million. Holy shit. “I-Is Mr. Min an art collector?”

Bitterly, Jungkook thought about how he could spend the rest of his life cleaning pools and never make enough to buy a scrap of metal signed Stingel. Not that he wanted to own one. It was just... The idea of being rich enough to spend millions on junk was—

He swallowed, forcing the feeling down. He tried very hard not to think about how one piece of metal could pay for the entirety of his tuition and then some. If he did, he’d likely spiral into depression. Being a broke college student sucked.

“You could say that...”

You shrugged, half smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It wasn’t like the blinding, 100-watt beam you had flashed his way the moment the front door had swung open. This version was less overwhelming, but certainly no less potent. The slow curl of your lips made it easier to admire the defined features of your face. Jungkook swallowed.

Beauty was subjective? Maybe so. Jungkook had no taste for the two-dimensional. He wouldn’t be able to discern a Monet from a Picasso if asked. But something about you had him inclined to change his mind.

Jungkook had seen beautiful women parade before him—but none like you. Your beauty was eerie—pretty in an almost unnatural way. You looked like a painting brought to life. There was something soft and sharp about your traits, like the definition of a marble statue and the roundness of a paintbrush stroking a canvas all in one.

“—He does buy a lot of it.”

“I see...” If Mr. Min had objects worth 5 million casually displayed in plain sight, he had to be the type of individual Jungkook would never cross paths with in his everyday life. They belonged to two different worlds, their orbits never meant to cross paths.

“Come on.” You smiled kindly, yanking him out of his stupor. “I still have to show you the pool.”

Dutifully, he followed after you, his steps measured and careful. Now was not the time to go breaking million dollar vases from the Qing dynasty or whatever other valuable pieces Mr. Min had acquired over the years. He sure as hell didn’t have five million in his bank account around to spend on damages. The mere possibility of getting fired on the first day, 5 million in debt, made his skin crawl unpleasantly. He shuddered.

“It’s a bit cold in here,” you apologized once you noticed him rubbing his arms. Goosebumps had raised on his skin. “Should I turn the AC off?”

“I’m fine! Really. Please don’t worry. I’ll be working outside, anyway. Unless… Is it, uh, an indoor pool?” He hadn’t considered that a possibility until now. Maybe there were even multiple pools to clean.

“No, no, the pool’s outside.” You continued your explanation as you led him through the conservatory. The glass ceiling allowed for natural sunlight to filter through, enhancing the aesthetic appeal of the room. Out of all the rooms he had walked through so far, this one seemed like the most inviting. “You can see it from here. See? Just through here. There’s no justifiable need for an indoor pool since the one we have is heated.”

Jungkook picked up on the strange use of pronoun—we—but didn’t question it. His thoughts were all jumbled up, anxiety making him unable to focus on one topic for too long. “Although, I suppose you could say there isn’t much need for this one, either. It rarely gets used… Honestly, I can’t remember the last time Yoongi went for a swim. It’s almost a waste.”

It took him several seconds for him to realize you were referring to Mr. Min. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered how long you had worked under Mr. Min to be able to address him by his first name. Or maybe his boss was lax about these kind of things? Jungkook somehow doubted it. The man he had on the phone last night hadn’t given off that impression at all.

“Is Mr. Min not home often?” he asked tentatively, hoping his interest wasn’t blatant. Jungkook wasn’t sure if his questions were appropriate or not but thankfully you didn’t seem to mind his curiosity. “Will I meet him today?”

“He should be stopping by later for lunch...” Your voice trailed off before you remembered his first question. “But, no. He spends most of his time locked up in his office, so I doubt you’ll see him very often.”

You said this as you turned your face away. Eyes downcast, you failed to notice when Jungkook caught your grimace from the glass door’s reflection. Jungkook diverted his gaze, somehow feeling like he had seen something he shouldn’t have.

“Ah, here we are.” You slid the glass door open and a gust of warm air blew in his face.

Jungkook stepped out onto the deck, one of his hands raised to block his view from the sun. The garden was in full bloom, a colorful arrangement of hydrangeas, astilbe and daylilies lining the stone pathway that wound down to the gazebo and the pool. A thick, sweet scent hung heavy in the air, so strong it made his nose twitch.

He followed you down the patio, watching in fascination as you walked atop of uneven stone steps with expertise despite the thinness and tallness of your heels.

“I’ll have to get another key double made for the shed, I forgot to get another one done. We keep all the cleaning equipment in here. Next time you come, you can come straight back here after someone’s buzzed you in.”

Jungkook nodded as you showed him where to check the water circulation.

“Do you have any questions? Hm, I think I covered everything. Although I’m sure there’ll be things I’ll need to tell you along the way because I tend to be forgetful.”

It occurred to him that he didn’t know what kind of job you occupied. The question balanced on the tip of his tongue. Would it be considered rude to ask? He swallowed it back down after failing to muster the courage to ask.

“Hm?” You made an inquisitive sound, head tilting slightly. “What is it? You can ask me anything.”

“So, uh, have you worked here long? Do you like it here?”

“Worked here…? Oh. Oh!” Your look of surprise morphed into one of amusement. The corners of your mouth pressed down together in an effort to hold back a laugh.

Jungkook grew uneasy. Somehow, without needing an explanation, he knew he had said the wrong thing.

“I don’t work here. Well. I suppose being a housewife is an occupation in itself, so I guess… Almost a year?” You fiddled with the ring on your index finger, the encrusted diamonds sparkling as the facets reflected the sunlight. “It’s our anniversary on the twentieth. So, yeah, almost a year.”

Jungkook stared at it without comprehending. It was like every cog in his brain had screeched to an abrupt halt.

“Housewife…?” Jungkook’s mouth fell open as he put two and two together. His brain had begun to catch up but it was still buffering like some early 2000 computer that was unable to process large amounts of information without crashing. “You’re—but you’re so young—? Not that that’s a reason for—I thought, I mean, I shouldn’t have—”

Stop talking. Stop. Talking.

“Sorry. For, you know. Assuming. It was wrong of me. Um.” He knew he should stop talking. He knew it and yet— “H-happy anniversary?”

His ears burned with mortification. If the ground could split open and swallow him whole, now would be a fantastic time for it to do so. He had always had shit brain-to-mouth filter but this was… Fuck. He wanted to bang his head against a wall but refrained from doing so, not ready to risk losing more brain cells.

You burst out into laughter, your shoulders shaking from the force of it.

“The look on your face,” you snickered, finally pulling yourself together. “I don’t usually get that kind of reaction. People are usually a lot less... Well. It doesn’t really matter what they’re like. They don’t matter.”

Jungkook hastily apologized again, fearing he had vexed you.

God, you probably thought he was the world’s biggest dumbass. He sure felt like one.

In his defense, your marital status hadn’t been a painfully obvious fact. Jungkook hadn’t even considered the possibility that Mr. Min was a married man. The house he had walked through earlier had lacked convivial warmth, giving the impression of vacancy. There were no wedding pictures framed on the mantle or any other piece of evidence of a lover.

Perhaps it was the age that had further thrown him off—you couldn’t be that much older than him. Maybe two years older? Five, at the most? The deep voice he had heard over the phone last night had given off the impression that Mr. Min was eons older. In Jungkook’s mind, he pictured a man with a balding head, fine lines near his eyes. Maybe Jungkook had been completely off from the start. But then again, Mr. Min couldn’t possibly be that young, either.

He did some quick mental math, trying to calculate and estimate how young Mr. Min could be. Sure, he had seen movies depicting extremely young and successful CEO’s but the real world worked differently. Mr. Min had to be in his thirties…at the earliest.

“Don’t worry about it.” You waved his concerns away with a flick of your wrist. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. Trust me…I’m really good at knowing when someone’s being intentionally insulting.”

The last part was said carelessly, like the words hadn’t actually meant to be voiced aloud. His brows scrunched up in confusion; try as he might, he didn’t understand what you meant.

“I’m really sorry,” he squeaked out, his ears still uncomfortably hot. He wiped his brow with the back of hand.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not something that bothers me.”

Jungkook only allowed himself to relax when he caught sight of the easygoing smile gracing your lips. “Well then, I think I covered about everything. If you don’t have anything else you need explained, I’ll let you at it. Why don’t I head on inside and get you some refreshments? It’s so hot out today—I wouldn’t want you to get a heatstroke.”

“That’ll be great.” Jungkook nodded in thanks. Now that you mentioned it, his mouth felt unbearably parched. He made a mental note to bring a water bottle for next time.

“Want anything in particular? I think we have just about everything stocked up in the fridge. Juice, sparkling water, cola...?”

“Water sounds perfect, thank you.”

Jungkook tried not to stare when you turned on your heels and walked away. He really did. Except it was hard not to notice how well the dress you wore flattered your figure, emphasizing the curves of your body in all the right places.

It was a futile battle; his eyes refused to cooperate with his internal demands. Honest to God, he tried really hard not to look but your legs looked fa—

He shook his head as if the action would somehow help him clear his thoughts. Get a fucking grip! his inner voice of reason yelled at him.

You were married.

To his boss.

He let that sink in. Or tried to. Jungkook didn’t need to have an IQ of 155 to know that having the hots for the woman married to his boss would ultimately result in disaster. Nothing good would ever come out of it. Why would you even consider looking at other men? Only a dumbass would think he stood a chance. Your husband probably provided everything you needed and more.

But what should have been sufficient incentive to put an end to his cru—whatever the hell it was—wasn’t doing jack shit. The only resounding thought in his mind right then was a constant loop of I’m so fuuucked. Because if there was one thing Jungkook was good at, it was spotting a losing battle when he saw one. But one thing he was bad at? Abandoning a sinking ship.

Back in the kitchen, you were feeling similarly distressed.

The corners of your mouth downturned into a frown as your eyes raked over the familiar penmanship.

Don’t wait up for me tonight.

You peeled the post-it note off the fridge, checking the back of the yellow paper to make sure you hadn’t overlooked any words he might have tacked on as an afterthought. Foolishly, your heart hoped to find any semblance of an apology—anything that would prove that somewhere behind his impassive mask he still loved you.

It was, unsurprisingly, blank.

Admittedly, your husband was a man of few words. He had never been known for flowery speeches, preferring to keep it curt and to the point. Efficiency, he called it.

Realistically, you should have known Yoongi wouldn’t have been able to spend the day with you. More often than not last minute work emergencies called him into office, interrupting whatever plans you had made for that day. This wasn’t outside the norm. Yoongi’s work came first and foremost. You had never deluded yourself into thinking otherwise and had never resented him for it, either.

Still...you remembered a time when he had put in more effort than a half-assed, scribbled note. Before he had tied the knot, Yoongi had been more attentive and thoughtful. There wasn’t a day that you didn’t wake up to the smell of fresh flowers, hand-picked and arranged in a crystal vase by your bedside. He never failed to call during the day between board meetings to check up on you and always made sure to make up for his absences one way or another.

Being with Yoongi came with its set of disclaimers and downsides, but like any worthwhile relationship, you had been willing to overlook these hardships. It wasn’t difficult to, not when Yoongi always showered you with prettily wrapped up gifts and hot mouthed kisses, erasing any doubts that sprouted within you.

Gradually, all that had changed. There were no more flowers, no more impromptu calls, no more candlelit dinners.

Whatever love that had previously existed was nowhere to be found. The notes he left around the house had become sparse and dismissive. You looked back down at his message and held back a scoff. The paper creased between your fingers and you had half a mind to ball it up and throw it away, along with the frustration simmering under the surface of your skin.

It was impossible to pinpoint the exact moment change had happened but somewhere down the line, the affection that used to gleam in his eyes had melted away, leaving behind a stony face devoid of warmth. You could imagine his face as he had written the note, features smoothed over into the same inscrutable look he reserved for his business clients.

“Guess it’s just going to be me and Euna today.” You glanced at your watch, the steel heavy around your delicate wrist, and desperately attempted to refocus your attention.

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly but you forced the nauseating feeling down with a forced out sigh.

Everything was fine. Besides, life went on and it wouldn’t wait for you to get your feelings under wraps.

You had been looking forward to having brunch with your sister and husband, but. Things happened. It was nothing to be upset about. You’d get over it after stuffing your face with a croissant or two.

When you came back with refreshments, Jungkook could tell something was wrong. He could see it by the hunch in your shoulders, the straight line of your mouth.

“Change of plans.” You set the sterling silver tray down with a thunk. The glass pitcher’s content sloshed around, threatening to spill over. He noticed there were bits of cut up—cucumbers?—floating around in the water. Weird. He wondered if it was considered rude to pick them out.

When he looked back at you, all of his inner ramblings ceased. Even though he didn’t know you well—or at all, really—worry still niggled at his heart. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened in the last ten minutes, but the look on your face was cause for concern. He just...didn’t know if it was his place to ask.

You took a glance at your wristwatch unaware of his silent predicament.

“You’ll get to meet Yoongi some other time, hopefully. I thought I might get to introduce the two of you today when he stopped by for lunch, but it’s work related business and you know how that is.”

Jungkook nodded, knowing better than to speak. You smiled and shrugged, but he could detect an undercurrent of frustration. The smile looked different than the one you had on when you had doubled over in laughter—this one was a little strained at the corners, too wide to be completely genuine.

“Sorry to leave you here like this. I know it’s your first day.” You breathed out a sigh, shoulders drooping. “But I’m meeting my sister soon and I don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

“’s cool. I’ve cleaned pools before, I should be able to handle myself fine.”

“Oh, and if you want a refill, just head on inside and ask June. She’ll get you whatever you like. She’s cleaning the upper floor right now, but she’ll be in the kitchen later. She’s a real gem, I bet you’ll like her.”

“Thanks—for this and everything else.” Jungkook’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he sent you a smile. “I’ll look forward to meeting your husband some other time.”

“It will be his pleasure,” you said, not realizing how spot on your statement would turn out to be.

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve cancelled your outing altogether and stayed home—if only to spare you from the embarrassment brought on by your sister’s sudden exclamation.

“What do you mean he doesn’t want to have sex?!” Euna’s voice rose in incredulity.

It was louder than what etiquette dictated as appropriate, and you had to hide your flinch behind a strained smile. You felt eyes bore into you from all sides as people swiveled around to stare in your direction.

An elderly lady dressed head to toe in Chanel tweed snickered into her napkin after giving you a once-over.

“Will you. Keep. It. Down.” You reclined back on your chair, your shoulders hunching in on themselves defensively. “We’re in public, Euna. So if you don’t mind, I’d prefer it if everyone here wasn’t up to date with my sad and pitiful sex life, because that’s really the last thing I need right now, thanks.”

“Oh no.” Euna dabbed the sides of her mouth with a napkin, deathly serious. “We’re talking about this now. I know you. You haven’t told anyone else about this. Not that I blame you, honestly. Your friends are all attention craving socialites. And it’s not like you’d ever go tell Mom about this. Not when she’s expecting you to pop a baby out soon. She’d probably find a way to lock you and Yoongi up in some room until you conceive her first grandkid.”

“Can we not talk about babies right now? Or Mom.” You repressed a shudder because fuck. That was another problem altogether—one that you were not equipped to handle at this very moment.

“Fine,” she agreed easily. “Talk to me about your dick problems instead, then.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Your attempt at nonchalance was weak at best. In front of you, the porcelain plate, stacked high with delicious French and Danish pastries, remained practically untouched. Usually by now half of them would have been devoured, down to the very last crumb. If that wasn’t an indicator that something was wrong then what was?

“There’s literally nothing to talk about. We haven’t had sex in weeks. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Weeks?!” Her glossy lips parted in shock. The emphasis on the plural form made you wince. As if you needed the reminder. “What the fuck.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” you said glumly, allowing a frown to draw on your features. As much as you liked to pretend you were fine with your husband’s increasingly distant behavior, it was impossible to keep up the pretense in front of your sister. She had a way of extracting the truth from you—even if it was a truth you were reluctant to face.

“Do you think... Um.” There was a slight pause as Euna gathered her thoughts, still trying to get over the shock of your confession. She lowered her voice to a whisper, perhaps finally realizing that the couple seated next to you were doing a piss poor job at eavesdropping. “D’you think he might be...cheating on you?”

Your rebuttal came out immediately, without a single trace of hesitation, “No way.”

“Are you sure?”

Your hardened expression did nothing to deter her from pressing the issue. “I mean, it’s not too far-fetched to imagine him having a sizzling office romance with a coworker. Or maybe there’s a rival executive he could be sticking his dick in to seal a—”

“No. Yoongi’s not. He’s not like that.” You shook your head, trying to clear your vision from the offensive images her words had conjured up. “He’s just been busy and stressed with work, that’s all. There’s a big merger happening soon and there are still a lot of things under negotiation right now so he has a lot going on.”

“Well what about a blowjob? No? Not even an under the desk handjob?”

Her Alexander Wang silk blouse wrinkled under her crossed her arms. The look of betrayal painted on her face made it seem like you had offended her on a personal level. Honestly you weren’t sure why she was getting so worked up over this. It wasn’t her dick getting neglected. “Look, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had a guy refuse a good ol’ dick sucking.”

“Well good for you.” Your voice lacked sincerity, dry as the desert.

“And I’m 90% sure all the pent up cum that accumulated in his balls is the reason Yoongi’s acting like such a grade ass prick.”

“Read that in Science Weekly, did you?”

“As a matter of fact,” Euna narrowed her eyes at your tone. “Doctors say that blowing your load on the regular is the secret to a long and prosperous life.”

“The ‘expert’ opinion in Cosmo isn’t considered medical backup.”

“Well are they wrong? If you got dicked down more often I bet you wouldn’t be so fucking snappy all the time. Frowning like that is only going to give you premature wrinkles. And that’s a fact.”

“Why do you have to make it a matter of dick or death. Jesus, it’s not that dramatic. I bet all couples go through these dry spells every once in awhile. It can’t be that uncommon.”

“It is! Keeping your vagina happy, keeps you happy. As an extension of—”

“Would it kill you to be serious for a second?”

She huffed, feeling wrongfully rebuked. “It’s your sex life is on the line, not mine.”

That sobered you up a lot more quickly than you would ever like to admit. “I’m well aware...” You pursed your lips into a pout. “Look, it’s not that he doesn’t want sex with me. He just doesn’t have time for it. Because of work. I’m sure everything will go back to normal in a few weeks.”

“In a few weeks? Uh...” Euna trailed off. “Can you even hold off that long?”

“Ha, your faith in me is astounding. I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly capable of going without sex for a month. Or two. I’m sure it won’t kill me... It’s not, like, the end of the world or anything.”

Euna’s raised brows made it clear that she didn’t believe you for one second. “Wasn’t the last time you abstained from sex for more than a month in—” She stopped, deep in thought. “When was the last time you took a break from sex? You have the sex drive of a rabbit.”

“That’s not important,” you snapped, stabbing your fork into a cheese tart. The rich, creamy texture melted on your tongue as soon as you bit into it, but for some reason your favorite dessert tasted like ash in your mouth. “I know you’re trying to help, but sex isn’t the magical solution to everything. It won’t fix anything. Not that anything needs fixing, I’m just saying.”

Sensing that the conversation was drawing to a close, Euna scooted backwards in her chair and stretched her arms. “Mhm, okay, if you say so. Good luck with all that... I sure wouldn’t want to be in your place, that’s for sure.”

That made two of you.

“Thanks,” you sighed. “Just. Whatever, it’s okay, I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal.”

“Uh-huh. Well if things ever start to become...not okay...you can always—”

“I said everything’s fine,” you cut off sharply, effectively putting the conversation to rest. Your appetite lost, you set your fork down.

Regrettably, Euna’s words rattled you more than you cared to admit. You couldn’t shake off her warnings and advice no matter how much you tried to. Throughout the day, you found your thoughts wandering back to the conversation with your sister. Could she be right? The longer you let yourself ponder the issue, the more your doubts grew.

Despite your best efforts, you had no way of stopping these poisonous thoughts from plaguing your mind. No one was around to help you get rid of them and without an outlet, they grew and grew, culminating into an unbearable ache.

You hated the feeling of loneliness—of being alone and helpless, with nothing but your own thoughts to entertain you. You wished Yoongi would hurry up and come back home so that you could find refuge in his embrace. The bed was too big for just you alone and you hated seeing how empty it was without Yoongi snuggled up next to you. It was always during the time before sleep claimed you that his absence was the most painful to swallow. The overwhelming feeling of loneliness kept you awake for hours. Sometimes, no matter how exhausted you were, your body refused to cooperate unless it knew Yoongi was laying down at your side.

It was with no surprise that you found yourself all alone in the king sized bed that night, Yoongi’s side untouched and unoccupied. Your fingers reached out to where his sleeping figure should have been. Instead of a warm body, you grasped a handful of air. The only reminder that he slept next to you was the faint trace of his aftershave that clung stubbornly to the sheets. You tried not to sigh out in disappointment. You had been doing too much of that lately.

Turning over, you checked your phone for any message notifications despite already knowing that you wouldn’t find what you were waiting for. You curled up in a ball, feeling colder than you had been a few moments ago. Ordinarily, you’d try to stay up and wait for his return, but the day had been so emotionally draining that you slipped into a dreamless sleep the second your eyelids drooped to a close.

{SATURDAY. 11.18 am}

Despite the unlimited number of TV channels provided, none of the current programs had been interesting enough to capture your attention for longer than a few seconds. Your focus had drifted from the flat screen a long time ago. An infomercial on a 10 speed juice blender buzzed on in the background, but you paid it no heed.

Summer was supposed to be synonymous to leisure and fun. Yet here you were, splayed across the living room’s couch with no tangible vacation plans.

The worst part was that you were alone, with no one to distract you from how utterly and entirely boring your existence had become.

Not that you’d ever confide these innermost feelings to anyone in your entourage. You could already hear your mother’s condescending tone ring through your ears, chastising you for not living your life to the fullest (i.e. spending all of your husband’s hard earned money on luxurious vacation trips to St. Barts or wherever). And sure, trips to St. Barts and St. Tropez were fun—but they weren’t what you wanted. There was no point of going so far overseas when the person you wanted to spend time with was stuck back home. At least here you could see Yoongi from time to time, even if those times were becoming a rarity.

Your friends wouldn’t understand. They had no qualms jetting off every weekend to their private resorts and eating out of season, imported delicacies plated on shining, sterling silver dishes.

Speaking of friends, you flicked through their Instagram accounts, envy stirring in your lower belly as you swiped through their recent pictures, each snapshot showing off lavish hotel rooms equipped with balconies overlooking exotic landscapes and modern skylines. But the designer handbags dangling off their arms weren’t what made you froth at the mouth—you had enough of those lining up your walk-in closet.

No, what you envied the most was how fucking happy they seemed in every single shot. Pic after pic, their whitened smiles never waned.

You blew out a sigh, the heavy sound drowned out by television static.

God. What were you even doing with your life? Was this what you had to look forward to for the next twenty years? Would you and Yoongi even last until then?

This wasn’t how you had imagined your life would turn out when you accepted Min Yoongi’s proposal a year ago.

The honeymoon phase was long over. Even in your company, his attention never strayed too far from his work phone. And that was when he was home. Over the course of the past few months, he had reverted back to the workaholic man his friends and family had always known him to be, leaving behind no trace of the person you had become so taken with.

Working for his attention had always been a challenge. That was what had initially drawn you to him. Out of all the possible suitors lined up for a taste of you, only Min Yoongi’s detachment and feigned disinterest had stood out from the lot. There was something exciting about it, something that kept you on your toes, as opposed to the throng of other candidates that would easily bend to your will. His handsome looks had just been an added bonus.

But somewhere along the way, there had been a shift, too minute to notice on the spot. Now, when Yoongi brushed you off, there was no gleam twinkling in his eyes, no smirk on his lips. It didn’t matter if you wrapped your body up in lace and the finest satin, or stayed up until the early hours of the morning for him to return home—he always asked for a rain check, claiming fatigue.

Eventually, you had stopped trying so hard. There were only so many times you could handle being pushed away again and again before it started to hurt.

As much as you had enjoyed earning the praise and attention in the past, you didn’t like...whatever this had become. It wasn’t a game with rules and limits anymore. When Yoongi pushed you off of him, he meant it. So as much as you appreciated a man who was hardworking and dedicated to his job, you couldn’t help but crave the attention he had stopped giving you.

The pressure weighing down on your chest increased, making it hard to breathe. Invisible hands had wrapped themselves around your lungs and squeezed hard, leaving no room for air. For an interminable moment, you felt like you were drowning, the sound of your heartbeat drumming in your ears.

When you blinked and swallowed, the feeling had disappeared, leaving you feeling hollow, like someone had dug out your heart with a chisel.

It took a while, but you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and finally made up your mind.

What you needed was a distraction, something to keep your hands and mind busy. You couldn’t stay put like this, trapped in your own thoughts and feelings. If you did, you’d surely go mad.

...The only problem was that there weren’t that many distractions available. You could go out on your own into the city to shop or eat but you dismissed the thought as soon as it had a chance to take form. Your closet was already full to the brim with clothes you hadn’t yet found the chance to wear.

As if she had somehow telepathically perceived your difficulties, June, your housekeeper, materialized into the living room, holding a laundry basket against her hip. Quickly, you gathered to your feet, excited by the prospect of finally finding something to do.

She jumped up in surprise, a high-pitched squeal leaving her throat, not expecting to see you appear in front of her with no prior warning. A strand of her curly hair escaped her wound-up bun but she deftly pinned it back in place after readjusting her hold on the laundry basket.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you asked eagerly.

“Sorry? I don’t quite understand...”

“Like... I don’t know... Maybe some dishes to clean or socks to fold up...”

“You want to clean dishes?” she echoed, looking at you as if you had suddenly sprouted a second pair of limbs.

You tried not to take offense and pursed your lips.

“Yes,” you confirmed with a firm nod of your head. “Any tasks that you might need help with.”

“Are you feeling okay ma’am?” she queried instead, the lines on her forehead expressing genuine worry. “Do you need to lay down? Should I get water? The heat might be—”

“I’m fine! I just.” You wrung your hands in agitation. Why the hell was this so complicated? Since when did cleaning require justification? “I need something to do. I’m so bored I feel like I’m losing it.”

“Ah. I see...” She looked unconvinced by your words but knew better than to voice her concerns. “Alright. In that case you can do the—ah. Hmm. Why don’t you prepare some cold drinks for the pool boy? The weather must be giving him a hard time.”

“That’s it? You don’t need any help with the cleaning? You had the feeling that she didn’t entrust you with the more ‘serious’ household chores because she was worried you’d inadvertently blowup appliances or flood the laundry room again.

(It had happened once. Forever ago. Wasn’t it time to let it go? How were you supposed to know that you needed to measure the detergent before dumping it in?)

“... Maybe later. I’ll be sure to let you know if I need additional assistance, but thank you for offering.” She shot you a professional smile, putting an end to the discussion.

You trudged back to the kitchen, dragging your faux fur slippers across the floor in defeat.

It wasn’t what you had hoped for, but at least you had something to occupy the time with. Knowing that this was your only distraction, you planned on prolonging this task for as long as humanly possible.

What should have taken less than a minute to complete had turned into a tedious chore. You cleaned each strawberry by hand, cutting out the stems with unneeded precision, before slicing them into thin, even pieces. You did the same with the mint leaves and mixed it all into a glass pitcher.

Satisfied with the end result, you poured a generous amount of lemonade into the tall glass before storing the rest in the fridge for later. It was hard to keep the drink balanced on the tray as you slid open the glass door, but you somehow managed to not make a mess.

The heat hit you all at once and you frowned, feeling bad for whoever had been sent out today to clean the pool. It was laborious work and the weather did nothing to alleviate the situation. Nobody wanted to work outside in these less than pleasant conditions which was why it had been a pain the ass to find suitable candidates that were up for the job.

You had tried finding solutions around this problem—like raising the pay rate and alternating between different cleaners every couple of days so that the same one wouldn’t be subjected to the grueling heat all week long. You had been surprised to see how many people sent in applications—not that you were complaining. The only one who had something to say, was Mrs. Kim, the widow from across the street, who liked to grumble about how you were stealing all the good ones.

At the time, you hadn’t quite understood what she had been trying to insinuate. Weren’t all pool cleaners the same? But as you approached the pool, tray balanced dangerously on one hand, it all started to make sense.

Time slowed down like it did in those cheesy, over-the-top kdramas that were all the rage amongst housewives. How many times had you seen the same scenario play out whenever the male protagonist appeared on screen for the first time and met eyes with the heroine from across the room?

It was like you had suddenly been thrust into the drama lead’s shoes. Everything else seemed to fade away, your gaze drawn to man in front of you like a moth to a flame. It was impossible not to stare. Some invisible magnetic force kept your eyes fixated on him. The world could have been crumbling around you for all you knew.

His damp clothes clung to his body like a second skin, revealing sinewy muscles worthy of Calvin Klein billboards. Greedily, you drank in his figure, your gaze lingering on the attractive curve of his ass and the outline of his abs visible through the now see-through white shirt.

You gulped audibly, your mouth unpleasantly dry. It was distracting. He was distracting. Only a miracle had kept you from dropping the tray you were holding.

Eyes closed, the man tipped his head back and brought his right hand up, carding his fingers through his wet locks. Like a magnet, your eyes were immediatley drawn to his bare neck.

You were transfixed. There was no other word or explanation for it. Even if you had been able to, the chance of you peeling your eyes away from the spectacle in front of you was slim to none.

It hadn’t even registered how ridiculous you probably looked, with your feet planted to the ground and your mouth parted in evident awe.

You took a much needed moment to appreciate his profile—your eyes running down the sharp line of his jaw and down the slope of his neck towards his exposed collarbones. Water droplets dripped down his handsome face and in that very moment you swore that he looked like he had stepped out of a high-end underwear advertisement.

He strung a spare towel around his neck before turning his full attention onto you. Instantly, you were struck by how alive his eyes appeared. They glinted with thinly-veiled mischief. That, the fullness of his lips, and the confident smirk he sported, gave him a youthful and playful mien that contrasted with his virile and attractive build.

“Er...” You coughed, politely averting your eyes from his body. “Do you— Do you need me to get you a spare pair of swim trunks? Yours look a little, um, small.”

You winced, knowing it had been the wrong thing to say.

“Oh?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice that had you looking up at him in alarm. His smile widened, the corners of his eyes creasing into crescents. “Please don’t bother. I work better in these.”

“Oh...well... If you’re sure.”

“Certain.”

He licked his lips. His eyes were hooded, heavy lids doing nothing to subdue the sultry look aimed your way.

“Alright.” You swallowed and paused, searching for the appropriate words. In the span of a few short seconds, your brain had short circuited. You got the next few words out, tongue heavy in your mouth. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Your name would be nice.” An easy smile sat on his lips.

“______.” You included your last name, hoping he’d get the hint. Briefly, you remembered your interaction with one of the other pool boys, Jungkook, and how flustered he had gotten over his mistake. The one standing in front of you couldn’t have been more different.

“Park Jimin. You can call me Jimin.” He glanced down at the platter you gripped onto with both hands. “This for me?”

Light reflected off the metallic surface of the tray and you were reminded of what you had stepped out the house for.

“Yes, please have something to drink. I made it earlier, I hope it’s to your taste.”

“Thanks for thinking of me.” He took the glass of freshly pressed lemonade off the tray, using the opportunity to step closer to you. The sharp scent of chlorine tickled your nose but to your surprise, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “It gets awfully hot out here and I get so thirsty. You know what I mean, right?”

His voice was as sweet as cotton candy. It took a moment for you to realize he had stopped talking and a few seconds more for you to remember how to form words of your own.

“I try to make refreshments available for all the staff. Everyone works really hard, even in this weather, so I’m thankful,” you said, trying to retain a certain air of professionalism. Hopefully it would be enough to stop him from seeing through the bullshit spouting from your mouth.

Jimin jutted out his bottom lip in a pout before raising his glass to his mouth. He took a big gulp, probably all too aware of the way you were tracking the movement with your eyes. In what was probably a calculated and premeditated move, the pink of his tongue darted out to lick the sweetness off his lips. Distantly, you noted how full and rosy his lips were.

“Aw. And here’s to thinking I was special.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh and shook his head. Water droplets fell from his wet fringe, the soaked strands sticking to his forehead. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing shacked up, hm?”

“What?” The bluntness of his words caught you off guard. You were used to people being coy, hiding their pretenses behind smiles and well-versed pleasantries. Jimin’s forwardness left you momentarily dumbfounded and at a loss for words.

“Gotta admit, when I took up this job I was expecting to land the standard.” Jimin laughed, pleased. “Can’t deny this is a welcome surprise. Nothing wrong with the older crowd, but you’re definitely something else.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“So what’s your story?” His eyes raked over your form. Unabashed, he lingered on the swell of your breasts, the dip at your waist. You blinked, the apples of your cheeks warming as you remembered you hadn’t worn a bra. You hadn’t thought much about your choice of outfit before—it was thin and comfortable enough to wear around the house, the silky material soft against your skin. Jimin seemed to appreciate the selection, too, if the way his eyes darkened in approval was any indication.

He tapped a finger against the pout of his lips in mock contemplation. “Let me guess. Married a geezer who’s too busy banging his hot secretary to look after you. And when he does, you wish he didn’t because his stamina is shit. Can he even get it up? Heard old age does that to you, not that I would know...”

He shrugged, the smile on his lips sympathetic.

“Yoongi isn’t like that,” you denied right away, a frown ruining your expression. You knew that the conversation was most definitely crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed. You kept telling yourself to put an end to it before it could get out of hand.

“No?” Jimin leaned in, close enough for you to feel his hot breath fan across your skin.

You didn’t dare move, let alone breathe. Any closer and your breasts would graze his chest. The shocking part was that you almost wanted it to happen. Not that—not that you wanted it to happen with Jimin, specifically. You just wanted. Your body had been suspended in a constant state of yearning for so long that it didn’t take much to stir its interest.

He stepped back to properly appraise you. A shudder ran down your back as you struggled not to let your emotions show. “You look awfully desperate for someone who should be getting dicked down on the regular.”

You opened your mouth to retort but no sound came out.

The heat in his gaze left you breathless. Yoongi used to look at you the same way, before. You remembered the hunger, the way your body used to warm up and ache and squirm under the power of his gaze. Whenever he looked at you with those eyes, your knees would buckle and you’d fall to your knees without question.

“Trust me,” Jimin continued on, oblivious to the perverse thoughts running through your mind. “If that was my ring on your finger, you’d never leave our bed because you’d be too fucked out to even get up. What’s that husband of yours thinking?”

He shook his head, not expecting a verbal answer from you. When he spoke up, his voice had a dangerous undertone.

“It’s because he’s not satisfying your needs,” he said matter of factly. “If he wasn’t as disappointing in bed as you claimed, there’s no way you’d be out here, panting for my dick down your throat instead of his. Isn’t that right, sweetheart? You need a nice, thick cock to fill you all the way up. And I can give you what you want, you just gotta say the word.”

Were you being that obvious?

You bit back the whimper threatening to claw its way out your throat. His words kindled a desire deep inside of you—a primal desire you had valiantly tried to suppress for the past month. Yet with only a few well chosen sentences, he had coaxed that need back to the surface, putting all your efforts to waste.

Different scenarios and possibilities flashed in front of your eyes like a fast-forwarded montage. You were so caught up in your thoughts, the infinite could if’s, that Jimin’s disappointed sigh had become background noise.

“Too much?”

You blinked up at him owlishly, not fully grasping the situation until he had taken a few steps back. Even as he backed off, the smirk never fully melted off his face which was a little disconcerting.

Thankfully, the newfound space separating both of you made it easier to breathe, to think straight.

With a surprisingly steady voice, you spoke out. “Jimin, I’m married—”

“I know.” Jimin shrugged as if what you had told him was an inconsequential detail.

Nonplussed by Jimin’s behavior, you bit the inside of your cheek.

Shouldn’t this guy have some morals? Usually men backed off at the mention of a husband but Jimin refused to conform to the norm. Based on what he had previously insinuated, he probably had fucked his fair share of married women. So was it all a game to him? A kink? An ego thing? Were you doomed to be just another notch on his belt? You furrowed your brow, trying to figure out the conundrum that was Park Jimin.

He misinterpreted your silence and sighed, an exaggerated pout on his pink lips.

“It was worth a try... The offer still stands, if you ever change your mind.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I’m not going to force myself onto you or anything.” He grimaced at the thought. “But you should know that the option’s there. I wasn’t lying about what I said earlier... You deserve to be with someone who knows what he’s doing... And by the looks of it... He’s not fucking you nearly or well enough to keep you satisfied. I’m more than willing to be of service in any way I can. I promise you won’t be disappointed, I’ve never gotten complaints before.”

He pushed his hair back as his eyes perused your form again, his gaze half-lidded. You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked away. You hated how correct most of his assumptions had been. And what you hated even more was how certain he seemed about it all, like his words were the absolute truth.

Something about that irked you. You hated being read so easily—by a stranger, no less. It was embarrassing, how easily he had assessed your situation and lumped you with the countless other bored housewives he had undoubtedly had his way with.

“Well, thanks for the offer, but no thanks, I’m good. I’m perfectly fine. I appreciate your concern, but it’s not needed.” Even to your own ears, your speech failed to sound convincing. At this point, you weren’t sure who you were trying to persuade—Jimin or yourself. Either way, you weren’t proving to be very capable; your words rung out false and hollow.

“Enjoy the rest of your drink. I hope it quenches your thirst.”

And with that, you turned your head and scurried back into the sanctity of your house, far away from sin and temptation itself. Heart palpitating, you swore that you felt Jimin’s gaze follow you all the way to the door, clinging to you like a shadow. The look he had given you right before you scampered off was one that you’d spend the rest of the day trying to forget.

Unfortunately for you, time was not a sufficient balm to soothe over the heat Jimin’s words ignited. Long after the sun had set, the utter filth that had spilled from his lips kept running through your mind, keeping you up.

Sleep was impossible to find, not that you were surprised. It was becoming a regular occurrence and you figured that you should go seek a doctor’s help if your condition didn’t improve soon.

But you knew that what you needed were neither pills nor herbal concoctions—your body needed Yoongi. You missed his presence, the way he stroked your cheek after you pulled back from a kiss, the way he kept eye contact when he pushed his thick cock between your legs.

God, you fucking missed that asshole.

You hadn’t always hated how much you depended on your husband. You had wealth of your own—or rather your family had wealth of their own—but all your personal expenses and whims had been funded and provided by Yoongi. All of your possessions had been bought with his money—everything from the imported cars, the luxury bags, the designer goods, and the summer residence in The Hamptons you visited every now and then.

The dependence hadn’t bothered you before. And it still didn’t—not in the way that it might bother or embarrass others, anyway. You never felt like you were in his debt after spending hefty amounts of money; that was not how your relationship worked.

What made you uneasy was how physically dependent on him you had become. It wasn’t until you had been repeatedly denied from his touch that you realized how much your body craved it, ran on it like how a car needed fuel.

Tonight was the night, you finally decided, determination set in your features.

Reaching into the closet, you pulled out your most recent purchase from La Perla and slipped it on, making sure it still looked as good as it had a week ago in the dressing room mirror. You hadn’t found the right moment to wear it and figured it wouldn’t hurt to put the expensive lingerie to good use.

A nervous energy tingled down your spine as you got ready. Anticipation was building inside your belly but you couldn’t tell if it was the good or bad kind. You were brought back to a time when it had been fun to surprise Yoongi. Those had been the best nights—even the mere memory of them had your thighs squeezing together. Back then, the possibility that he might shut you down hadn’t existed.

Maybe you already knew, deep down, that you were setting yourself up for failure.

It still didn’t stop your chest from constricting painfully around your ribs when Yoongi reacted exactly the way you had feared he might.

“What’s gotten into you?” His face conveyed confusion, his gaze flickering from the lit candles around the room to the way your body was splayed out indecently on the bed, body covered by the barest scraps of frill and lace.

On any other day, the sharpness in his tone would have been enough to cut through your confidence and back off. You would have dropped the subject and moved on. But this time the sting of rejection wasn’t easy to dismiss, repetition only making it worse.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you snapped, frustration getting the best of you. You sat up from your position on the bed, not missing the way his gaze dropped down to your exposed chest. To your great disappointment, you couldn’t spot any arousal in his expression. He might as well have been looking at a blank sheet of paper. What had changed? Was it him—or was it you?

Your sister’s words from a few days ago were creeping back now, reinforcing all the doubts and dejection you had fought so hard to suppress. Why didn’t he want you? Were you not desirable anymore? Had he found someone else to fulfill his primal needs? And if he had, what did that mean for you?

What the hell were you supposed to do with a husband that refused to touch you, let alone talk to you?

A sickly feeling rose up your throat, the acidic taste of bile flooding your mouth.

“Do you not love me anymore?”

The question was meant as an accusation, the words supposed to carry the weight of all your pent up fury and bitterness. Instead of the harshness you had intended, your voice came out feeble and wrung out. The truth was that you were afraid of his answer and what it would do to you. Yoongi’s words were the only ones capable of breaking through the armor you had built around yourself. You didn’t care for the gossiping housewives or the scummy tabloids. But Yoongi? He had always been different. Important. Yours.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It doesn’t suit you,” he chided none too gently.

“Can you stop that?” In the bedroom, the authority he wielded aroused you to no end. But sometimes, like now, Yoongi’s tone and wording rubbed you the wrong way. Did your feelings not matter anymore? When he spoke like that, it made you feel so small. And not in a good way, not the way you liked to feel like during good sex or when he hugged you, limbs wrapped around yours like your own personal fortress.

You pulled the strings of your robe together, your body turned to ice. The see-through material was lightweight and flimsy, doing nothing to obscure your body from view or keep you warm.

Why had you tried in the first place? Like Yoongi said, you felt ridiculous.

Pride bruised and battered, you attempted to keep your wobbly voice steady.

“God, you can be so condescending when you want to be. I’m not a plaything you only listen to and take care of when it pleases you. I’m your wife, not some plant you need to water every two weeks, don’t you get that?” You weren’t even angry anymore. All you wanted was for this to be over and for your relationship to go back to the way it was before. You were tired of feeling insecure, tired of waiting and wanting. Just...tired.

Yoongi’s brows furrowed, his mouth opened as if to voice his immediate protest.

“I’m not—” He cut himself off, lips thinning into a frown. The deep line between his brows never smoothed over, as if permanently etched onto his features. He bit the inside of his mouth, taking a moment to choose his next words carefully.

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he suddenly appeared older, closer to the age written down on his official documents. Genetics had given Yoongi smooth skin and good looks that made him look more youthful than his actual age. But as he stood there in front of you, you could tell that Yoongi’s beauty was marred by evident signs of fatigue and stress.

“I... I didn’t know I made you feel that way,” he confessed sounding genuinely regretful. “I wasn’t—it wasn’t my intention to. I’m sorry it came off that way. I don’t think of you like that, just so you know.”

The silence that followed his words stretched on for several long seconds.

He didn’t look away from your probing gaze. Even without searching, you knew his words to ring true. He was a bad liar. Good at keeping his feelings locked under key, yes, but never one to outright deceive others. Yoongi had always been bad at expressing affection. He was also bad at reading feelings. He was probably so caught up with his workload that he hadn’t noticed at all.

In retrospect, your outburst had been somewhat unfair. Maybe you were being unreasonable, adding on to his extensive list of worries.

But, no. That didn’t sound quite right, either. Just because he hadn’t been aware that your feelings had been hurt, did not mean that what you felt wasn’t valid. You weren’t selfish for wanting to be happy. You shouldn’t have to feel guilty for wanting to be loved.

“I know,” you said, voice quiet enough to pass as a whisper.

Yoongi’s sharp eyes softened. The hard lines around his mouth rounded into a small smile.

“Come here.” He walked over to the bed, his legs spreading as he sat down.

The open invitation was one you were powerless to resist. Although you knew the conversation was far from over, you had missed his warmth and his touch far too much to refuse him. Your entire body hummed, itching for the close physical contact that you had been denied for so long.

His thighs flexed as your fingers dug into his silk pajamas for leverage. From this distance, you could see how haggard he truly was. Purple lined the underside of his eyes, making them look swollen and bruised. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his cheekbones more prominent than you remembered them to be. When had he last had a proper meal? You suspected that he hadn’t been taking care of himself, no matter what he tried to make you believe. Whenever he got into that serious headspace of his, nothing else mattered but his work—not food, not sleep, and certainly not you.

Cold hands inching up your back interrupted your train of thought. You had been so touch-deprived that any amount of attention directed your way made your body vibrate with ill-concealed excitement.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been neglecting you. Things right now are...” He exhaled sharply, his shoulders slouching under the weight of his worries. “Work has been keeping me busy, that’s for sure. I’m afraid I can’t do much about that. I promise I’ll make it up to you in a few days, once this blows over and we secure our terms.”

“You’ve been so stressed,” you remarked as your own hands wandered up his arms and shoulders. His lean muscles were unnaturally tense under your touch. It had been so long since you had touched him properly that the planes of his body felt like unfamiliar territory.

When he didn’t move away or show any signs of protest, you leaned in to press your lips against his. The kiss was slow, your mouth melting against his like snow falling on a furnace.

The silky material of his clothes facilitated the glide of your hands down his chest. But before you could reach any lower, Yoongi grabbed you by the wrists, effectively halting your movements.

“Not tonight,” he whispered roughly against your lips, short of breath.

“When?” You hated how whiny and petulant the question made you sound, but you couldn’t help it.

“Shall I pencil in an appointment, then?” he humored. “Would you honestly be happier I gave you a time, place and date?”

“Not really, but I’ll take it.”

“Is sex really the only thing that matters to you?” he asked, half fond, half exasperated.

“It’s your fault for marrying a slut. You should’ve known what you were signing up for.”

You shared a smile. For once nothing felt awkward or strained. You tried to cherish the moment while it lasted.

Yoongi’s expression eventually morphed into the apologetic one you had grown accustomed to seeing recently. You tried not to let your stomach sink in disappointment, already anticipating his rejection before he could voice it.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not in the mood. You know I can’t focus when there’s so much going on at work.”

“You won’t even need to do anything!” you tried despite knowing that your chances of convincing him were slim. “I’ll top and do all the work.”

“If that’s the case, can’t you just use a sex toy?" Yoongi rolled his eyes. “What’s my use if I’m just going to lay there and take it like a starfish?”

“Did you think I wasn’t using a sex toy all this time? I have a high sex drive... I wasn’t going to just sit around and not take care of myself.”

“Then what’s the problem? It doesn’t matter how you get your pleasure. I’m not one of those men who get weird over their partners using toys. It won’t be a blow to my pride, or whatever.”

“It’s not enough, okay?! I need your cock filling me up, fucking me into the mattress. Every time I cum on my own, it’s not enough.”

“I said no.” He sighed. “Look, it doesn’t matter to me how you deal with it but I can’t take care of it.”

“Take care of it? Is having sex with me a chore or something? Jesus.” You pushed him away with an annoyed expression. Yoongi’s hands dropped from your waist, not putting up much of a fight when you left the seat of his lap.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said ever so patiently, almost like he was talking to a child.

You huffed, scooting further away from him. It didn’t escape your notice that he made no effort to close the physical distance separating the two of you, his hands laying limp at his side.

“So you’re saying you don’t care how I get myself off? You wouldn’t say anything? Not even if I went and got myself a real cock to fulfill my needs?”

Yoongi raised his brows, the insinuation taking him by surprise. Clearly he’d underestimated your level of desperation. You watched his face closely, hoping to decipher what was running through his mind. Unfortunately, you couldn’t tell if the tightness in his features hid displeasure or interest.

His lips were drawn into a thin line as he mulled the proposition over. After a moment of silence, he said in an even tone, “Go ahead, if that’s what you want.”

What.

You hadn’t actually expected him to agree. Turn you over and spank you for suggesting something so outrageous. Get angry for pushing an issue he wanted to drop. But not... You didn’t think that he’d actually be okay with it. Did that mean that he had stopped cari—?

Before you had the chance to finish that thought, he continued on, the dark of his pupils pulsing, “You know that I’ll never deny you. Everything you want is yours. That is my promise to you.”

You opened your mouth to contest but he beat you to it.

“Whether it’s my cock you need, or another’s. So be it—if that’s all it takes for my needy wife to be satisfied.” A slow smirk pulled at the right side of his mouth. When he spoke, it was gruff and laced with arousal. “You can try to find all the substitutes in the world, but you know that the only one capable of giving you the pleasure you crave so deeply is me.”

Ribbons of heat immediately curled in the pit of your stomach. Dimly, you thought how unfair your dynamic with Yoongi was—all he needed to do was snap his fingers and you’d happily spread open your legs for him. You had always been eager to please him, but you had to admit that the time spent away from him hadn’t fixed such matters.

His hand reached out to trace the outline of your lips. You didn’t dare breathe as the touch of his fingertips lingered, the ghost of a promise making your heart jump in anticipation. Your lips parted in silent invitation, giving him permission to ruin you.

He leaned in so that his breath caressed your skin, the gentle whisper carrying a dark undertone.

“So be patient, darling—or I’ll give you nothing.”

Whether this was a promise or a threat, you were left unsure.

{MONDAY; 11:19 am}

This was a bad idea. A Very Bad Idea.

But bad ideas had never been enough to stop you from getting what you wanted in the past. You called it determination. Some people would disagree with the sentiment but when had their opinions mattered?

Two weeks ago, you wouldn’t have considered going through with this. But your last conversation with Yoongi had been the final push you needed.

Your face broke into a scowl as you remembered his parting words. The infuriating part was what had been written all over his face—the haughty certainty that you’d never rise to the challenge he had issued. That was what had ticked you off the most. You hated losing, but you hated being underestimated and easily dismissed as a non-threat even more. And Yoongi? He knew that about you—and had used it to his advantage.

The question was…could you go through with it? You had never dared to go this far in the past.

In truth, you hadn’t even considered it. The only person you were interested in was Yoongi. It didn’t matter if other men were closer to your age, richer, brawnier, or more traditionally handsome. The only one you wanted was Yoongi. That would always be your constant variable.

So why were you out here in this gross heat, instead of inside the comfort of your house?

Beads of sweat accumulated near your hairline and dripped down your neck. You resisted the urge to grimace. There was nothing you hated more than sweating in a context that wasn’t good sex or a pilates class.

Not that your sacrifices mattered anyway—you knew for a fact that Taehyung hadn’t spared you a second glance since he had gotten to work.

You risked a peep over the latest issue of Vogue you had been pretending to read, your sight zeroing on the person in charge of cleaning your pool for the day. He was ridiculously handsome, with strong, defined features and a lithe build, and had this habit of sticking out his tongue whenever he was particularly focused on a task.

Kim Taehyung was maybe a little too absorbed in his work. Was it normal to be this hardworking? Not that you would know what the norm was—you had never worked a day in your life whereas your husband took his job way too seriously. Judging by what you had witnessed in the last hour, you were inclined to believe that being unhealthily dedicated to your work was the norm. The poor kid had yet to take a water break.

You hid a sigh by sipping your fruit smoothie.

In theory, porn made seducing the pool boy seem like an easy and achievable task—but the truth was that you had no idea how to go about it. It was a shame the clichéd porn scenarios hadn’t covered what to do in case the pool boy in question failed to acknowledge your presence altogether.

He had worked nonstop since he had arrived, barely looking up from his crouched position near the edge of the pool, too busy fishing out floating leaves and dried flower petals with the help of a skimmer.

You looked down at your bathing suit just to check that your cleavage was still on obvious display.

It had been a long time since you had to work for someone’s attention that wasn’t Yoongi’s. Were you rusty? Or had you really become that undesirable? It didn’t seem to matter that you were wearing a risque bathing suit. You might as well have been a potted plant.

Taehyung had the defense of a wall of steel. It didn’t matter what tricks you resorted to catch his eye—he never budged an inch. Even when you stretched your limbs, nylon straining to keep your decency in tact, Taehyung didn’t bat an eye.

Needless to say, it was a huge blow to your pride.

Glad that no one else was around to witness your embarrassing attempts, you nonetheless wished to erase your existence from this earth. You gripped the sides of the magazine tighter to cover the entirety of your face and prayed for his shift to end soon.

“I could have been naked and he wouldn’t have noticed,” you despaired the next day, pressing the phone closer to your ear.

“Maybe he just prefers dicks?” Euna tried to comfort. “Or... You know... Maybe he values his job and doesn’t want to get fired for sexual harassment.”

“I wasn’t—” You spluttered. “I’m just saying he wasn’t looking. The plants were more interesting than me! He just... I can’t believe I got bested by fucking weeds.”

“Tough luck. You shouldn’t get sulky because someone would rather work than bone you.” She paused, perhaps realizing how deep rooted your insecurity was. “Relax. It’s not the end of the world! He’s just one guy, they’re not all like that! You’re not the problem here. Sometimes guys... They need you to be more direct. They don’t understand subtle. Like, you just have to go for it. Batting your eyelashes and showing some sideboob isn’t going to suffice.”

“What do you mean go for it?” Your nose wrinkled in disdain. Yes, you were dick deprived, but not to the point that you’d jump on the nearest available dick like some savage.

“Haven’t you ever watched porn?”

“I’d rather die than deepthroat a popsicle.”

“Oh please. Like you haven’t done worse than that. ” You could hear the eye roll that accompanied her comment. “I’m telling you that men are thick in the head and sometimes need you to spell it out for them, letter by letter, word by word. None of that coy shit. The only ones that fall for that are men like your husband.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Hmph. He has the emotional range of a pea—”

“You’ve only talked to him three times in your life?”

“—so it’s surprising how well the two of you get along, all things considered. Though I suppose if anyone’s gonna get an emotionally constipated person to confess their feelings, it’s you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Did you think I was complimenting you? Oh - I gotta go now, Mom needs me in the kitchen. I’ll call you back tonight!”

“Can’t. I have T&S’s premiere launch event to attend.”

“Oh fine. Good luck, then. Get that dick! Wh— Yeah, it’s your other daughter. Oh fine. Yes, I’ll let her know.” Euna turned her attention back to you and let out a small noise of exasperation. “Mom says she’s happy to hear you and Yoongi are doing well. She’s wondering when you’ll share some, um, good news with her.”

Her words were laden with meaning. You didn’t need her to elaborate any further, having already been roped into the same conversation countless times before.

Somewhere in the background, you could hear your mother yell get that dick! with all the aggressiveness of a cheerleader during the last five minutes of a game.

Ignoring her was the wisest move. You hurriedly bid her goodbye, eager to end the call, knowing that if you didn’t you’d have to be subjected to another hour of your mother’s ceaseless nagging. And—ugh. You had other pressing matters on your hands.

Like, for one, getting that dick.

{WEDNESDAY. 11.45 am}

Getting dick was—surprisingly—not an easy feat. College!you would be crying if she saw how much you were currently struggling.

Your busy husband remained unswayed, no matter how often you tempted him to yield.

That only left you with so many options, the next one being: OSTPB — Operation Seduce the Pool Boy.

...Although that option wasn’t proving to be as fruitful as you had hoped.

Where had it all go wrong? You would have thought that your pride was enough to overwrite any subsequent embarrassment. Even if your self-esteem suffered as a consequence of your actions, you had been determined to see this through.

Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined failing for a second time—but such had been your fate.

A glower broke out across your face, tiny creases forming between your groomed brows. Your most recent non-success had gone spectacularly awry and every time you thought back to what had happened, your stomach turned over in mortification.

Unlike Taehyung, Kim Namjoon had seen you coming from a mile away. His sharp stare had pierced straight through you, uncovering all of your secrets with the force of his gaze alone. It had taken one look at your scantily-clad body for him to correctly assess the situation and act accordingly.

Somehow that had made his disinterest all the more disheartening and humiliating. The experience forced you see your situation in a different light. You couldn’t help but pity yourself a little. A married woman throwing herself at any handsome man that came her way? That was pathetic, even by your standards.

Maybe you were better off calling the whole thing off. At least, that’s what you convinced yourself. You hadn’t counted on a third opportunity to present itself.

“Bad day?”

“That obvious?”

Hoseok smiled. “I’d say so, yeah. You’re drinking before lunch. That’s never a good sign.”

He had a point.

Crinkling your nose, you explained, “I had to attend a baby shower this morning... It’s the third one this month! Honestly. What is it, mating season?” To you, it all served as one big reminder that everyone was getting it on except for you—which naturally put you in the brightest mood.

“Then why bother going? I’m sure you could find other activities to do instead.”

“Free Dom Perignon,” was your automatic answer, albeit not a truthful one. Hoseok cracked a smile.

“I wouldn’t have thought that to be a problem...” He eyed the flute of sparkling champagne you were currently nursing.

“It’s the principle. But... You’re right. They’re always such a chore. And I could definitely pass up on Sohee’s constant nagging. God, she never shuts up. Especially after starting on the champagne. Fucking lightweight,” you glowered, lipstick stained mouth thinning into a straight line. “All she ever does is gloat and provoke me. Whatever. She’s just mad the man she got married to is nearing 60 and balding. I’d be mad, too.”

Hoseok laughed. It tumbled out of his parted mouth, loud, unrestrained, and so unlike the artificial pleasantries you had been subjected to all morning. The sound was clear and infectious, ringing through the summer air like wind chimes.

You gulped down the remnants of champagne, the golden bubbles sliding down your throat smoothly. It wasn’t your first flute of the day. By now, the alcohol was flowing pleasantly through your bloodstream, warming your skin to a glow. The muscles on your face relaxed.

“But think of all the free fancy ass booze and food you’d be missing out on. If you hate the others so much, just go sit in a corner and eat your truffle hors d’oeuvres and caviar canapés in peace.”

“If only I could,” you said, followed by a very dramatic eye roll. “I’ve got an image to keep up, you know. The gossiping crones already see me as some dumb bimbo who whored herself out to land a nice, rich, young husband.” You tried to keep your voice light and airy, but shades of bitterness could be heard despite your best efforts.

Your marriage with Yoongi had caused quite the stir... Even now, a good year after the wedding, people still had your name on their lips, tainting it with disdain.

What bothered you was that they thought Yoongi was easy. Did they think all it took was a nice rack and a tight ass to win him over? Sometimes you wished your husband only thought with his dick—it would make things a lot easier for you, that was for sure—but that wasn’t the kind of man he was. And at the end of the day, that wasn’t the kind of man you wanted him to be, either.

“Ah, come on, it can’t be that bad.” Hoseok’s lazy smile drooped. You turned your face away, hating the sympathy you could see in his eyes. You didn’t need to be pitied. Annoyance made you take another sip.

The smart move would be to agree and end that particular discussion with a swift conversation change. It was what you were used to doing.

But an invisible force stopped the words from shaping. Later on, you’d blame it on the liquor in your veins muddling your judgment and the sweltering summer heat making you dizzy. Instead of the prepared answers you were used to dishing out, your genuine emotions bubbled to the surface before you could filter them—and once you got started, it was impossible to stop.

“It is. I’ve heard them. They’re not discreet, nor do they want to be.” You adjusted the sunglasses perched on your nose bridge, glad you had something to hinder Hoseok’s attentive gaze. He was too observant for his own good. “They’re always equally surprised and disappointed when they learn Yoongi hasn’t filed for divorce and put himself back on the market. Sohee’s only two years younger than me but she keeps asking me for tips.”

“Tips?”

“Yes...” To your chagrin, you found that the flute of champagne was empty so you set it down. “She always rubs her age in my face as if a two year age gap is that big of a deal. Hmph. According to her, the only reason Yoongi would stay with me for so long is because of my evil feminine wiles.”

“Didn’t you say she has a husband? Why does she care what you do with Mr. Min?”

“Yeah, well, joke’s on them because I don’t do anything.” Something sour ruined your expression. At least your Gucci shades gave you something to hide behind. “Not for lack of trying, anyway,” you added bitterly.

Hoseok tilted his head to the side, his expression one of polite confusion.

“...You don’t do anything?” he parroted, trying to make sense of the words. It was the first time hearing you profess yourself so frankly, without pretense or filter.

“I don’t want to spell it out for you,” you grumbled, not daring to meet his eyes. You were pathetic as it was... No need to make yourself look even worse. As if you needed Hoseok pitying your nonexistent sex life on top of everything else.

There was a moment of silence, only broken by the sound of birds chirping and the distant sound of your neighbor’s dog barking. You let your eyelids flutter close, feeling a strange sensation of calm wash over your body.

Admittedly, getting your inner frustrations off your chest had been relieving, in a way. It had been nice to have someone listen to you rant, even for a moment. Talking with Hoseok was a nice change from the stilted and repetitive conversations you had during your obligatory social run-ins with other housewives.

Speaking of Hoseok, you didn’t need to open your eyes to know that he had probably gone back to finish his job, not knowing what to say without making it awkward or crossing boundaries. You didn’t have the heart to open your eyes and check. As long as your eyes were closed, it was easier to maintain the illusion of peace you had found momentary refuge in.

The sound of quiet rustling made you crack open an eye. Surprise had you opening both. While you had been stuck in your inner musings, Hoseok had gotten up from where he had been sitting to plop down next to you.

You didn’t dare move. Not only because the abrupt move had caught you off guard, but you were worried that if you tried to squirm away to give him more room, you’d topple off and hit the ground. The chaise lounge was too narrow to comfortably accommodate two people but somehow it worked. When he adjusted his sitting position, the material of his swim trunks brush your outer thighs. Hoseok was so close that you felt the heat radiating off his body.

He reached over, grabbing a bottle of tanning lotion you had set down next to a pile of magazines. As he looked up, he saw your wide eyes and hastened to explain, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look really stressed.”

No shit, you wanted to snark but he cut you off before you had the chance.

“You should let me,” Hoseok suggested while shaking the bottle in his hand. “I’m pretty good at working out knots. I don’t have a certificate or anything, but—my body gets really tense after dance class, and sometimes I don’t have the time or money to go to a salon. I’ve read books and watched a lot of YouTube videos, which, I can understand may not sound very convincing but trust me, I know what I’m doing. Of course, doing it to yourself is fine, too, but it’s a lot more effective when someone else takes care of it.”

All you could do was stare. The bout of silence was enough to make him lose a bit of confidence, and he sent you a sheepish smile.

“I mean, it’s up to you. I’m definitely not as good as the pros but I’m not terrible, either. Some even say my massages are better than orgasms.” The sudden grin he sported was so wide that you couldn’t tell if he was exaggerating or not. “I just figured… I can’t guarantee a 100% success rate but I’ll do this free of charge, so that’s something to consider. This is a limited time offer.”

“You know I’m not one to turn down freebies,” you said through a smile, not taking as long as you should have to consider his proposition. Maybe you should have thought harder about the implications but right now his offer seemed too good to pass up. A massage that was better than nutting? Sold. “Should I…?”

“Yeah, why don’t you roll around onto your stomach for me? I can start on your back,” Hoseok said while he uncapped the bottle and squirted a dollop of tanning lotion onto his palm. He rubbed his hands together, warming up the liquid, before pressing the pads of his fingers into the meat of your shoulders.

“This okay?” he asked as he hovered above you. “It’s better when I use scented oils like lavender but this will have to do. I didn’t bring any of my usual stuff with me.”

“Mhmm.” His voice sounded far away already. “It’s good.”

His hands covered every inch of your skin, slow in their study. Slender digits alternated between rubbing circles and squeezing flesh. From time to time, flashes of pain spread across your back as he worked on your muscles. The soreness melted away just as quickly; Hoseok seemed to know just how much pressure to exert for you to go boneless in his grip.

Slowly, you felt yourself relax under his ministrations, your head drooping further into the cushion as he worked his magic on you. You had to bite your lip to prevent any embarrassing sounds from filtering out whenever his strong hands kneaded a particularly sore spot. It felt so good that you were convinced Hoseok had been a professional masseur in his past life. Not even the ladies at the spa you regularly frequented could get you to unwind this efficiently. If you could stay in this blissed out state forever, you would.

You heard him saying something about what pressure point he was massaging but his voice came out muffled, as if a thick stone wall was separating the two of you. His words had been tuned out the moment his hands had drifted lower to work on the bottom of your spine. Nothing else mattered but the firm press of his fingers against your heated skin made easy thanks to the slickness of the tanning lotion.

Slightly dazed, it took a moment to register that Hoseok was repeating your name in an attempt to grab your attention.

“Is it alright with you if I untie this?” His voice was warm and syrupy like molasses. You had the strangest desire to bathe in it.

You nodded your assent, breath hitching as you felt his long digits work on the knot of your bathing suit. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before finally pulling the strings apart.

The tension in the air was palpable. All pretense of a simple and friendly massage having been thrown out the window the moment he had asked to remove your clothes. After all, there had been no sound and logical reason to—it wasn’t as if the thin piece of fabric tied at your back had hindered his movements in any way or obstructed his work.

Hoseok had asked for your permission to go further and you had given it to him without a second thought.

“Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?” He waited for your verbal confirmation to continue. His fingers had stilled, no longer working your skin like dough. On one hand you were thankful for him giving you ample time to back out, but on the other hand...

Now that you had been given a preview of what he was capable of doing, how did he expect you to turn him down? Maybe that had been his plan from the start—wind you up to your breaking point until you had no choice but to beg and plead.

The top of your bikini slid off your body as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You had to crane your neck to throw him a look over your shoulder, your hair cascading down the arch of your back as you did so, but the slight discomfort was well worth it.

The rough pads of Hoseok’s fingertips dug into the divots of your waist. To keep you still, maybe. But you could tell by the clench of his jaw that he was holding himself back.

A sudden surge of power coursed through you. Speeding, top down on the highway and riding twisting rollercoasters...none of these came close to giving you the same high that surged through you when you were wanted, coveted, and lusted after. There was nothing more empowering than knowing your presence made men weak in the knees.

“It’s okay if it’s you, Hoseok.” You batted your lashes and let a slow smile spread across your face.

It was an enticing invitation, one that Hoseok had no heart to refuse. He raised a tentative hand towards the scruff of your neck, letting his weight rest there as if testing the waters. When he saw that you weren’t going to retract your words or shy away from his touch, he let his palm drag down your bare back.

There was no way that he didn’t notice the way goosebumps littered the skin he touched, the way you trembled with want.

There was no reason to be nervous, you thought as his fingers danced on your skin. The words spoken to yourself weren’t intended to reassure—you were stating facts. Hoseok was safe and secure. You knew that if you wanted to put an end to everything right now, he’d do so without complaint.

As if reading your mind, he smiled in promise, “I’ll take good care of you. Why don’t you turn around. Let me see all of you.” He nudged you, fingers stopping short of your pale blue bikini bottoms.

Hoseok tensed when you twisted around to lay comfortably on your back. Although he had been the one to suggest it, the sight of you topless momentarily robbed him of speech.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Awe colored his tone. His eyes mirrored the sentiment, wide with wonder.

He squeezed more lotion into the palm of his hands and wasted no time reaching for the dip of your waist. Warm hands slid up your sides, tickling your ribcage as they reached higher and higher.

A shaky breath left your lips when he finally enclosed his hands around the globes of your breasts and gently squeezed.

Desire lit a fire in the pit of your belly.

There was something undeniably sexy about having to face him while his hands freely roamed your body. When your head had been nestled in the crook of your arms, it had been easy to let your mind drift away. But your current position now made that impossible.

Hoseok’s presence was overwhelming. All you saw was him—the fiery depths of his eyes, the pretty slope of his nose, his fucking arms, and the way his long fingers were currently cupping your breasts, his thumbs rubbing the peaks insistently until they ached. The upward tug of his lips told you that he was well aware of how well he was affecting you.

“Good?” It was a rhetorical question. You were putty in his hands, as pliant and malleable as a ball of clay.

He readjusted himself between your legs and used his knees to keep your thighs spread open for him. A whine worked its way up your throat. Much to your frustration, his new position prevented you from rubbing your legs together and getting the friction you so desperately needed.

Your lower lips felt uncomfortably wet, and by the way Hoseok ran his tongue over his lips like a famished wolf in front of a long-awaited meal, you knew your arousal to be evident. By now the expensive piece of swimwear was surely stained with your juices.

Hoseok’s hands had wandered back down your body, digits now tracing your hipbones, while his gaze resolutely fixed the spot between your legs. For a reason unknown to you, he didn’t dare go any further than slip his thumbs beneath the material of your swimming suit.

Exasperation built up inside of you the longer the teasing went on. You didn’t know what he was waiting for. It was clear that he wanted it as badly as you did—if the tent in his swim shorts was any indication—so what was holding him back? How long were you going to keep staring at each other before the weakest died of blue balls?

So you did what any woman of action would have done and pulled at the strings holding up your bikini bottoms. Two quick, efficient tugs later and you were stark naked, bare as the day you were born.

Hoseok’s eyes bugged out.

To your dismay, your forwardness failed to have the desired effect. Instead of urging him into action, all he did was freeze up. In fact you feared that you had broken him—his mouth opened and closed once, twice, three times, but no sound came out.

“Do you need a hand written invitation?” At this point, you were running out of options. God, what did it take to get fucked around here? Like. Bless thee who invented dildos because without them you would have lost your mind a long time ago.

Finally he shook his head, hands reaching down to grip your thighs. His tongue poked out to lick his lips. “You’re something else...”

“In a good or bad way?” you asked, the hitch in your breath audible. His hands hands had inched dangerously close to where you wanted him to touch the most.

His lips quirked into a grin. “I’ve never seen someone get this soaked over a small massage. You’re literally perfect.”

Words that should have embarrassed you were balanced out with praise. The mix of the two made your insides tighten.

“Eager, too.” His grin widened. “That’s how I like them.”

Before you could quip back, he swiped his pointer finger through your slippery folds. The initial touch made your entire body jolt. It had been so long since someone had given you attention that your body ate everything up like it was starved. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had touched you properly, especially one that wasn’t your husband.

The thought of Yoongi only made your heart thump harder against your ribcage. You had no time to dwell on your feelings, however, not when Hoseok added a second digit to the mix.

His brow was furrowed in concentration. Guys your age had the tendency to rush through their motions, fueled by the need to get off. Sometimes they even skipped foreplay entirely. Hoseok was not like other guys your age. He took his time running his digits through your slick lips, not caring about his own erection straining his shorts.

It didn’t take long for you to get impatient again. You had always had a problem with waiting and being patient—and the last month had seriously tested the limits of your self-restraint.

Just when you were about to voice your frustration, Hoseok gathered your arousal until his fingers were thoroughly coated with your juices. He honed in on your aching clit with expert precision. Your thighs tensed as you tried your best to keep your hips still and your legs open.

It didn’t take long for it to feel really good. Better than the expensive bullet vibrator that you had been using religiously for the last few weeks. You were 100% certain that you would have hurled prematurely to your end if Hoseok hadn’t eased up on the pressure, his touch now feather-light and teasing. The abrupt change in pace had you reeling.

You slumped back into the chaise lounge, the back of your head hitting the twined material with a dull plonk. Fate apparently wanted to deprive you of a good orgasm until the very end. That petty bitch.

Hoseok chuckled and you tried not to take offense. You’d like to see him last as long as you had.

“You’re not relaxed at all.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” you deadpanned.

It was hard to keep the pout on your face when his fingers resumed their ministrations. Your knee jerked when he brushed over a particularly sensitive spot and you had to bite your tongue to keep any moans at bay.

“Ever heard of the saying ‘good things come to those who wait’?”

“I’ve been waiting plenty long!”

“Is that so?” His tone turned sickly sweet, almost mocking. “Guess I have to reward your good behavior.”

Before you had time to second that thought, he thrust a finger up to the knuckle, the sudden intrusion catching you by surprise. It was like someone had punched the air out of you. Your mouth parted in a silent cry as his finger soon turned to two.

He kept up an easy rhythm, his fingers curving every so often to drag along your inner walls. Every single one of your nerves were on fire.

Bit by bit, the constant and steady pressure made you unravel. Any control you had over yourself and the situation was slowly slipping through your grasp—but the loss didn’t bother you as much as it normally would have.

“How does that feel? Shit.” He stifled a groan when he felt you clench around his fingers, no doubt imagining that it was his cock buried inside your warm pussy instead. “Shit, you’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re doing so good,” you panted between two breaths. “I’m, ah, going to cum soon.”

“Already?” he asked, equally surprised and pleased at the admission.

Your words fueled his desire to see you fall apart. His pace picked up, the force of his thrusts making your back arch every time he buried his fingers into your heat. The brush of his fingers against your velvety walls felt so good that you could have cried fat tears of gratitude. Hoseok reached so much deeper than you ever could, stroking places inside of you that you had a hard time reaching on your own.

Hoseok must have a PhD in fingering, you thought, half-delirious from the amount of pleasure he was giving you. It had taken him an extraordinarily short amount of time to find and zero in on all your erogenous zones. Just like how he had known which spots to press during the massage, he seemed to be eerily attuned to your body and its needs. Not that you were complaining—far from it actually.

All of your inner ramblings ceased when he squeezed in a third finger, stretching your walls to accommodate the extra digit. You expected it to burn—three fingers was nothing to scoff at, especially ones as long as his. What should have been an uncomfortable experience wasn’t thanks to how fucking wet he had made you.

He drove his fingers in and out of you, alternating between swift and slow, rough and sweet. The wet squelches were obscene, so loud that you were convinced your neighbors could probably hear you if they tried hard enough.

Distantly, you realized what a shocking pair the two of you made. If your housemaid bothered to look out the window, she’d see you naked and getting fingered by someone who was most definitely not your husband. Now wouldn’t that be scandalous?

The mere thought of Yoongi brought you closer to the edge. Your eyes fell shut of their own accord, images of your husband replacing the ones of Hoseok. Lost in your favorite fantasy, it didn’t take long for you to reach your end. It never did when you started imagining your husband pleasuring you.

With the memory of Yoongi’s smirk painting the dark of your eyelids, you came, walls contracting around Hoseok’s hand like it was trying to milk cock. Your back arched off the chaise, your entire frame trembling from the force of your overdue orgasm. Spots of white dotted your vision and you had to forcibly blink them away. Only then did you realize that the yells puncturing the air had belonged to you.

“So fucking pretty. How are you so fucking soft? Shit, this is way better than what I imagined.”

“Think about me a lot?” you asked once your heart had calmed down to an acceptable rate.

You expected him to deny it but to your surprise his concession came easily. “Can’t help it.” He deliberately looked away from your look of wide-eyed curiosity. “You’re… Seriously, you could have anyone.”

“I’m not sure about that.” You reached for the hand settled on your thigh. It was only when you interlaced fingers that he looked up at you.

There had been a time when you had felt invincible, capable of bewitching any individual of your choosing, no matter the status or experience. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

But Hoseok spoke with such sincerity that you couldn’t help but eat up his praise. The way he touched you—stroking your body like he was handling an expensive piece of artwork, like you were valuable and untouchable—made you believe him. You wanted to be convinced.

“I’ll show you, if you’ll let me.” He kept his gaze steady and you found it hard to look away from the intensity burning behind his stare. “Want to make you come on my tongue. Let me take care of you.”

You felt your muscles pull as you spread your legs wider, putting your glistening folds on crude display. Hoseok swallowed thickly and wasted no time diving in, one of his hands maneuvering your lower body until one of your legs hooked over his shoulder, giving him better access to your dripping core.

He leaned in, close enough for you to feel his breath warm your skin. It was the only warning you got before he darted his tongue out, the flat drag of the muscle making your toes curl.

It was slow, sweet torture. As much as you wanted more, wanted to grind yourself on his face, Hoseok kept a sturdy arm braced over your stomach while the other wrapped tightly around your thigh. You had no other choice but to just take it the way he wanted to give it, completely at his mercy.

The steady, insistent flicks of his tongue over your clit had you gushing, your hole clenching sporadically in hopes of getting filled up again. You pulled the silky strands of Hoseok’s hair in an attempt to get him to satiate your need for more—but to no avail.

Hoseok refused to speed up, even as he felt your thighs tremble under his hold. If anything, your frustration seemed to amuse him. He chuckled against your clit, the vibrations setting each and every one of your nerve endings on fire.

“Hhn, puh-” you sucked in air. “Shit, I’m so, so close.”

He hummed in encouragement, smile hidden between your folds.

You knew you were cumming before it actually happened. It started slowly, your toes curling and knee jerking, and then worked its way up your spine. Stars blotted your vision until all you saw was white.

If he hadn’t kept you firmly pinned in place, arm muscles flexing as you resisted, you were sure you would have crushed Hoseok’s head between your thighs. Or accidentally kicked him in the shins. The force of your orgasm was a tangible force, one that knocked the wind out of you like a punch to the gut.

“So good.” He sucked his slender fingers until they came off clean.

Sitting there between your legs, he looked like the picture perfect definition of debauchery—red lips and chin glistening from your juices, face splotchy in the cheeks,hair mussed up and knotted by your hands.

His eyes didn’t leave yours for a second, even as he licked the last traces of you off his hand. Your core throbbed. There was something undeniably arousing about a man who genuinely enjoyed giving head, who did it because he wanted to and got off on it, not because he felt obligated to or because he wanted something else in exchange.

“You’re so fucking sweet.” He glanced down and groaned. “I’m so hard, fuck.”

“Do you want me t—”

“No, no, just. Give me a moment.” He palmed himself through his swim trunks but kept his gaze fixed between your legs, his attention unwavering. “I’ve made such a mess of you... Look at your thighs, they’re soaked. And that stain’s going to be impossible to clean off. What are you going to do if someone asks you what happened? It’s way too big to miss.”

You spread your thighs a bit more, intrigued by the way his hand seemed to press down harder at the visual provided. “What do you want me to tell them? I can’t possibly tell them the truth... If any of the housewives found out how good you are with your hands, they’ll end up stealing you from right under my nose.”

“I don’t care about them,” he dismissed seriously. “Why would I when the sweetest pussy is right here, all swollen and dripping for me.”

Your cum was still slowly trickling out of you. Upon hearing his words, your core clenched and the contraction made a fresh gush of opaque fluid drip down between the crevice of your ass. You resisted the urge to wipe yourself off, knew that the slight discomfort was well worth it if it meant witnessing Hoseok’s unraveling.

Hoseok was so enraptured by the sight in front of him that he was probably unaware of how deathly attractive he looked at the moment. It wasn’t a trick of the light or an ephemeral thought. Hoseok had always been handsome in your eyes but there was a distinct difference between when he was working and when he was set on giving you the high of your life. You had never been subjected to the brunt of his charisma, but now that you had, you could tell how much control he had over himself. Even now, his sexual energy was focused and restrained.

His eyesight had zeroed in on your pussy like a hawk sweeping in for its kill. His toned chest rose and fell, drawing attention to the sheen of perspiration lining his muscles.

“Hoseok.” The neediness in your voice broke him out of his trance.

When his eyes met yours, you felt your core clench up again. The sight of him shirtless, his lean muscles tensing every time his palm rubbed over the head of his erection through the material of his trunks, was enough to get you aroused all over again despite your recent orgasm.

“Please cum on me,” you asked sweetly.

He groaned in response, the sound low and guttural in his throat.

You hadn’t thought it possible, but his eyes darkened, black pupils swallowing up the brown of his irises until there was nothing left but raw arousal.

“Yeah? You’d let me?” He shifted onto his haunches and hastily tugged down his shorts low enough to relieve his aching member from the confines of the fabric. His red cock stood stiff, the tip leaking pearly precum everywhere.

A pleased smile stretched across your face. By the looks of it, he had been hard for a while.

The thought made something in your stomach curl pleasantly. You had done that, not anyone else. That alone was enough to spread heat throughout your body.

“I want you to cum all over me.”

“Fuck, when you talk like that I want to give you everything.” Hoseok held up a hand to your mouth and ordered in a gruff voice, “Spit.”

Doing as he commanded, you gathered as much saliva as you could and let it pool into his cupped palm. He muttered quick praise and wasted no time slicking up his length with your spit—not that it was needed.

It didn’t take long for him to cum.

“Where do you want it?” he asked between gritted teeth. Not once did his pace falter or slow down as he raced toward his end.

“Right here.” You didn’t need to think twice about it, your hand already reaching between your legs to open yourself up for him.

He growled as cum painted your inner thighs white. His hand stroked him through his orgasm, not stopping until he was certain he had nothing left to give you.

When Hoseok hunched forward to slot his mouth over yours, lips tasting of you, there was no mistaking the victorious smile adorning your face.

{FRIDAY. 10.21 am}

Something in the air had changed.

It felt like the world had tilted on its axis and the stars had realigned themselves in the sky. It was like getting your contact lens prescription strengthened—the world just looked different.

Your midday tryst with Hoseok had been the catalyst behind it all.

The reverence illuminating Hoseok’s eyes as he watched you come apart was still fresh on your mind. It filled you with bubbly giddiness. And that feeling—that swarming of butterflies in your stomach—was undoubtedly an improvement from the paralyzing numbness you had grown accustomed to over the last few months.

For the first time in a while, you had been able to sleep soundly. The results of a good night’s sleep were perceptible to the naked eye. Your skin was dewy and radiant, clear of the usual imperfections brought on by anxiety and exhaustion.

“You look well this morning,” had complimented June as she filled your empty glass with freshly pressed orange juice. You had hummed around a bite of gluten free toast, pleased with yourself.

Your good mood lasted all throughout the morning. It was Wednesday, you realized.

There was a bounce in your step when you realized what day it was and who you’d inevitably be seeing. Even though it hadn’t been that long, time tricked you into believing eons had passed since your last encounter. So much seemed to have changed since then.

You didn’t feel like the same person, for one. There was no more awkward fumbling or nervous lip biting, no sudden urge to cover your scantily exposed body with a bathing gown.

The confident stride towards the pool’s edge felt less like an act. When you sat down at the ledge, dipping your ankles into the lukewarm water, you didn’t feel like some kind of fraud. You were no longer trying to emulate the person you had once been—you were that person. It had just taken a while to find her again.

Jimin rose to his feet. He had been changing the water filter before your arrival had made him halt mid-activity.

For now you didn’t pay him any mind. You stretched your neck to the side, soaking up the summer sun. You were sure that you would have painted a much more seductive picture if your ass didn’t feel like it was on fire. Literally.

The stony edge of the pool was too hot, bordering on burning. You wriggled around, hoping you’d eventually adjust to the heat but in the end couldn’t handle it.

You slid in, water splashing around you as you submerged yourself. The water barely came up to your chest, which was probably for the best because your makeup wasn’t waterproof. And runny mascara? Not your best look.

When you looked up, Jimin’s unimpressed stare met you head on.

And, granted, choosing to go for a swim while he was cleaning the pool was not the smartest or most logical feat.

You weren’t here to swim, though. And Jimin knew it, too.

Jimin didn’t shy away from your gaze. On the contrary—he seemed to enjoy the scrutiny, preening. Your shameless admiration did nothing but stroke his already well inflated ego.

He raised his brow in your direction, half-expecting you to run away again. It felt like a challenge—one you were more than happy to take on.

In truth, you had been waiting for this opportunity.

Jimin didn’t disappoint. With a splash, he dived in and swam to your section. He stopped just short of you, close enough to clearly see the water trickling down his body in rivulets.

“Is this a hobby of yours?”

“Hm? What is?” He flicked his wet bangs to the side.

“Seducing married women.”

The smile he wore told you that he found your question amusing. “...Have I seduced you?”

His remark wasn’t enough to deter you. By now, you had gotten used to his teasing and it was getting easier to ignore his attempts at winding you up.

“Why do you do it? I’m sure you could have any young and pretty thing lining up to date you.” You genuinely wanted to know. Ever since you had met him and he had made his intentions clear as day, you had wondered why he’d ever bother chasing married women. What did he expect from it? Love? Money? Was this just something to pass the time? Or was this a way to prove his sexual prowess and attractiveness?

Life had taught you that nothing in the world came for free. There was always a price to be paid. Jimin seemed to have that lesson ingrained in him as well. It was in the way he carried himself with confidence, the way he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

In many ways, Jimin reminded you of yourself—or the self that had existed before your insecurities had made your outer layer crumble.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “But I’m not interested in dating any pretty, young thing. To be frank… Dating holds no interest for me. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“You’re just looking to wet your dick,” you translated.

“If I wanted to ‘wet my dick’,” he quoted with a roll of his eyes, “I could get that on campus. It’s not that hard to get laid when you look like I do.”

“Maybe you have a preference for cougars?”

“I’m serious. You of all people must know that relationships are about giving and taking. Compromise. I know what I can offer and what I’m willing to give up and none of those things people want.”

The honesty in his voice made you pause. You couldn’t claim to understand what he meant—because you didn’t. If he didn’t want sex and if he didn’t want a relationship, what did that leave? If it hadn’t been for the truth coloring his tone, you would have called him out for his bullshit.

“Seduce… I guess you could call it that... But it’s not as bad as you probably think it is.” His plush lips pressed into a thin line. “There’s no trickery to it. Every single person I get involved with knows what they’re getting into. I tell them what I’m willing to offer and they name their price. It’s a fair exchange, don’t you think?”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. You blinked in realization. “You’re saying you’re in this for the money?”

Jimin was quick to correct you. “It’s not always money. Apparently they think it’s crass to give cold hard cash, they think it diminishes my worth or something along those lines.” He smiled and shrugged. Your eyes strayed to the curve of his collarbones. “Personally I don’t mind either way. Gifts are gifts.”

Looking at him now, you could picture it. He was young and attractive, willing to entertain bored and unsatisfied housewives while their negligent husbands failed to keep them happy. You could see why they’d be enthusiastic to take him up on the offer—Park Jimin was charming in a way that made you hang onto his every word. It was the way he carried himself, the way he talked, the way he looked at you. He was hard to resist and he knew it.

“Sometimes it’s not even sexual,” he went on to explain. “I think… Some of them… They just seemed... Not sad. But, like. Lonely, you know? And some of them… Sometimes I don’t really do anything, nothing that crosses lines, nothing that would get my dick chopped off if their husband watched the CCTV footage. Really, what I do is not as salacious as you’re imagining… Most of it is quite tame.”

“Tame?” Jimin didn’t fit the definition of tame by a long shot. Your eyebrows scrunched up together, skepticism etched deeply onto your expression.

“Well. I’m hot,” Jimin stated, serious. “So that already takes care of half of it.”

You laughed, silently wondering how it was possible for a person to be so shameless. Although you supposed you weren’t one to talk. You were as vain as they came. It was just shocking to see someone not even try to fake modesty. The near perpetual smirk on his face would be insufferable on anyone else, but Jimin made it work in his favor.

“I don’t do anything special. Well, okay. Maybe I make a show out of cleaning the pool, but that’s about it.”

He glanced down at his choice of swimwear and you eventually caught on to what was insinuated. Much like the ones he had on during your last encounter, his swimwear seemed to be a size too small for him, hugging his thick thighs and putting his impressive muscles on display. Even the chastest person on the planet would have difficulty abstaining from ogling his build. Thirsty housewives wouldn’t stand a chance.

A half-naked, attractive man doing manual work? “I can see what you mean,” you agreed. “I don’t doubt your popularity among the married crowd.”

“Oh?” He tilted his chin so that he could stare at you through wet lashes. The water droplets gave the illusion that his eyes were framed by minuscule crystals. When he blinked, you couldn’t look away, spellbound. “Are you including yourself?”

Something in your expression made the shade of his irises burn to black, the heat in his eyes as smothering as burning hot coals. Your already unstable heart found it hard to function. It knocked loudly against your chest and you were afraid it would burst from the force of it.

As a last ditch effort to regain control of the situation, you hurriedly asked, “Do you have anything off limits? Or are you okay with doing anything?”

The string of questions broke the oppressing sexual tension that had threatened to consume you. His alluring expression shifted back to a neutral one.

“Depends on the person,” he answered after thinking it over, serious once again. “I can’t fake arousal. I’m either hard or I’m not, you know?”

“You’ve had sex with some of them before though, have you?”

“Yeah.” It was an easy admission. Jimin wasn’t boasting but he wasn’t ashamed of his past deeds either. “Not often and never off the bat, but yes. Can’t say that I haven’t.”

“Inside or outside the house?”

“Once inside the gardening shed, against the door. Wouldn’t recommend unless you fancy a trip to the hospital to remove all the splinters on your back. I’ve also done it in the bed they shared with their husband. That was...something.” The way he said it made it sound like the understatement of the century.

Before you could press, he continued, “Sex isn’t really something I’m up for all the time though. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s easy to let things get out of control...” A grimace, a pause, and then, “It’s easy for people to get confused. Feelings can develop and that’s... I’d rather avoid those complications if I can. There’s nothing fun about making women cry.”

It sounded like a warning.

You wondered how many times he had to reiterate his stance, how many times he had to draw lines and keep them clear to avoid breaking hearts. You wondered how much of his story was laced with truth and how much of it was twisted to deceive you.

How many before you had been presented with the same backstory? How many of them had let themselves be tempted by his proposition? It seemed like a good deal, after all. Who would be willing to refuse such a irresistible offer? You could only imagine how excited they had been at the prospect of having their appetite sated by such a young and handsome man.

You had never been under the illusion that your liaison would evolve into a whirlwind romance worthy of the greatest love songs. Unlike the countless others who had eagerly emptied out their purses just to get a taste of him, you had no plans on taming his wild heart. His love, his feelings—they weren’t what you were after.

“What’s something you’ve never done before?” you dared to ask, angling your head to peer up at him through your lashes. It was a good angle, one you knew from experience that worked.

“Never done? Well, let’s see...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve never kissed any of them. Properly, on the mouth.”

Your brow raised. You hadn’t expected that answer. Kissing did seem tame in comparison to the exploits he had previously listed. “How come?”

“It gets too personal, I guess.” Jimin refrained from elaborating any further. Not that he needed to—you could tell from the way he skirted around the question that kissing meant more to him than he would rather let on.

Immediately, you knew what you wanted.

“You said that you’d give me anything I ask for.”

Jimin wasn’t dumb; he quickly caught on.

“You want me to kiss you.” He tilted his head, a strange glint in his eyes. They flickered down to your mouth for the briefest of moments.

Your heart raced. A wary expression had crossed his face. Like he was finally seeing you differently—not as another conquest who would eat out of his hand and bend over backwards just to spend some time by his side, but acknowledging you as an equal who set her own terms and played by her own rules. A player, not a pawn.

Soon, the cautious attitude was replaced with excitement. Like the idea of playing a new game excited him.

"And what do I get in return?"

You blinked. Of course. It had been silly of you to think he'd give it up for free.

"What do you want?" You hadn't thought very far and your mind raced as it tried to find a suitable method of compensation. Expensive wristwatches, art work...

"I don't want anything you'd be willing to give anyone else." Jimin cut in, interrupting your inner musings. "I want something you'd only be willing to give your husband."

How very specific.

"I don't..." you trailed off, lost in thought. There was no time to question the nature of his request, not when your mind was caught up trying to find something, anything, that fit his criteria.

"I'll blow you."

You wet your lips. It was meant to be seductive but you were too nervous to properly pull it off.

Jimin raised a brow in response. It was impossible to tell if the answer was favorable or not, so you rambled on. "I've never... Since we started dating, the only... I've only been intimate with my husband.”

Until recently, was left unsaid. You weren’t sure if Hoseok counted. Maybe you should rephrase to avoid misunderstandings.

“I’ve never had... I’ve never sucked anyone else off.” There. Now you weren’t lying. “Even before Yoongi and I dated, I never did it that much. Not because—not because I don't enjoy it, but. I've always been more on the receiving end."

"You're a selfish lover," concluded Jimin, nodding in understanding like he hadn’t expected anything less.

You frowned. "I get that it sounds that way, but it's not! Sex doesn’t boil down to oral."

"Oh, I know," he smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I'm intrigued... But who’s to say your oral skills will live up to my standards?"

"As far as I know, no one's left you a 5 star rating for your kissing skills." Huffing, you crossed your arms. In the back of your mind, you knew Jimin was poking fun at you in order to elicit a reaction, but you were too offended to care about how you were playing into his games.

A kiss for a blowjob? If you hadn’t been desperate for the latter, you would have denounced the unfair exchange.

Jimin leaned in, his fingers tilting your chin in the angle he wanted, and studied your face like he was committing your features to memory. He drank in your appearance, down to the flutter of your lashes, the parting of your lips, and the hitch in your breath when he bent his neck to close the distance.

There was something careful about his touch. Unlike the searing intensity behind his gaze, the press of his fingertips against your skin was careful, almost like he was handling glassware. Time seemed to move extremely slowly. He took his time, seemingly content with just cupping your chin between his fingers and admiring you.

For a moment, you thought he'd back out on his offer, not willing to part with the one thing he'd denied the string of conquests who had previously been in your shoes.

When Jimin pressed his lips against yours, you had to fight back the urge to gasp. His earlier demeanor had lulled you into a false sense of security. You had expected him to take his time, kisses gentle and slow-paced.

There was nothing of the sort—Jimin's kisses were hungry, insistent, and stole the breath out of your lungs with every press of his lips against your own.

Whenever he let up, you took the opportunity to gasp in a mouthful of air. The lack of oxygen was making your head spin, you vision blurring at the edges. You were slipping down a very slippery slope. The longer his mouth moved against yours, the quicker you felt all reason and sanity abandon you.

Jimin’s control never wavered. There were times when you tried to dictate the pace but he'd pinch your chin to keep you still.

A moan worked its way up your throat when he gave a particular hard suck to your bottom lip. Not knowing what to do with yourself, body overheating with lust, your fingernails dug into his shoulders in a last-ditch bid to ground yourself back to reality. Jimin growled in response, one of his hands tangling itself in your hair to tug at the strands. You stilled immediately, the show of dominance enough to make your body go limp in his hold.

When his tongue finally met yours, licking into your open mouth with fervor, it wiped your brain clean of all coherency, your mind now blissfully blank. There was only Jimin, only his heat melting against your own, only his scent enveloping you like a warm cocoon you never wanted to break out of. Eventually, though, he had to pull back for air and you almost whined in protest.

After all, who needed air? What use was breathing when you could be spending that time kissing him instead?

It took a while for the heavy fog to lift. When it did you noted that you were still slightly out of breath, your heartbeat erratic and deafening. Under any normal circumstances, you'd be embarrassed by how effortlessly he had turned your insides to gush.

You struggled to keep your eyes open as you craned your neck to look at him properly. You had no time to feel self-conscious, however. Jimin's erotic appearance was much more interesting.

His lips were swollen a dark pink hue that perfectly complimented the flush high on his cheeks. It was a pretty sight, but nothing comapred to the deep pools of lust that stared back at you. Jimin looked like he could swallow you whole with his stare alone.

Your entire body trembled at the prospect of him carrying out the silent promise. In fear or anticipation—you did not know yet. You had barely survived his kiss. What were you going to do if he had his way with you? Now you understood why Jimin kept himself at an arm's reach from all of his suitors. His touch was lethal, designed and weaponized to make his unsuspecting victims fall deep into trance. Once you got involved with him, there was no coming back out of it the same. He was like a ruthless drug. One hit and that was all it took for your body to become hooked to the feeling. If you had any more, you'd stay addicted for the rest of your life, whether you wanted to or not.

Jimin was dangerous. Even in your prime, you had never been this powerful. The worst part was that he knew it. He wielded his charm with expertise, knew exactly how much to give to make you weak at the knees. You had only had a taste of him and yet your body thrummed with a burning need for more.

Thankfully, his needs mirrored yours. You didn’t have to wait long for him to hoist himself onto the ledge of the pool, the lean muscles of his arms flexing as he dragged his body out of the water with the grace of a panther. In the blink of an eye he had shucked off his sodden swim trunks and placed the wet material under him as a cushion.

You gulped, feeling almost bashful. It was...a lot to take in. It felt almost wrong to ogle at him now that he was stark naked.

Unaware of your embarrassment, Jimin puffed out his chest, shameless as ever. With a smirk plastered on his face, he patted his thick thigh and nodded in your direction.

“C’mre.” He spread his knees, cock hanging heavy between his thighs. “Time to be a good host and return the favor.”

You waddled closer before your brain could talk you out of it, mesmerized by the sight in front of you.

Jimin’s dick was—for lack of better terms—pretty. He was thick, not too long or too veiny, and pink at the head. He kept his pubic hair neatly trimmed, the dark patch standing out against golden skin.

Weeks ago you would have never thought twice about sucking off a man who wasn’t Yoongi. Yet here you were, mouth watering at the prospect of Jimin filling up your mouth.

You had Yoongi to thank for that.

For the briefest moment, you let yourself imagine the look on Yoongi’s face if he walked in on you right now. Even if you had an idea, it was hard to predict what his reaction would be...

Jimin’s croon yanked you back to reality. “Let me see what you can do. No hands, sweetheart. Show me what you got.”

The look aimed your way was full of expectation.

Not one to disappoint, your lips automatically stretched around his girth. You suckled the tip and sighed in contentment as he slowly plumped up against the flat of your tongue

God, you had missed sucking dick. You hadn’t been lying earlier when you had confessed how much you enjoyed it. There was something exhilarating about making a man go putty in your hands—or mouth. No matter how much they thought they had control over the situation, the reality was that you had them by their cock.

Drool pooled in your mouth, spilling at the corners, but Jimin didn’t seem to mind the mess. If anything, the visual made him impossibly harder. He hummed low in his throat as his heavy erection throbbed on your tongue, and ran a hand over your face to feel the sizable bulge poking your cheek.

“You look so gorgeous like this, stuffed full from my cock.” He grinned down at you with all the self-satisfaction of someone getting his dick sucked. “Really fucking pretty.”

One of his thumbs traced patterns over your cheekbones and you felt your face warm. The action was almost...sweet. And it most definitely felt out of place in this context.

The tender moment was broken the instant his length hit the back of your throat. You gagged, the choked sound loud enough to drown out his deep groan of appreciation.

It was with great reluctance that he let you pull back to catch your breath. You coughed, slightly embarrassed that you were so out of form.

He reached out to break the thin string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his weeping cock. He smoothed his coated fingers over your lips, smearing the excess saliva and his precum all over your mouth and cheeks with the focus of a painter hard at work.

The sight made his lower belly sing with satisfaction. And still, he wanted more.

Jimin took a minute to appreciate your less than perfect appearance. He was so used to seeing you with perfectly applied lipstick and coiffed hair, that seeing you so disheveled made something in his stomach kick. His thoughts ran wild. He was hit with a primal desire to ruin you, mark you up and leave the imprint of his dick in your throat so you’d remember him long after this was over.

“Wanna see you choke yourself on my cock,” he grunted, his member twitching at the thought. “Think you can do that for me?”

Instead of a verbal reply, you leaned it to plant a kiss on the flushed head of his erection, kissing down his hard length until your mouth reached the base of it. When you looked up, his gaze was darker than the night skies.

A shudder ran through your body, from the crown of your head all the way down to the tips of your toes. He never broke his gaze, the weight of it pressing down on you like a security blanket.

When you took one of his balls into your mouth, wet and messy just like you suspected he liked it, his hands shot up to rake through your hair. They pulled at the strands but not hard enough to stop you. Conflict warred on his face, unsure if he wanted you stop or not.

“You’re fucking nasty,” he rasped when you gave a particular hard suck, your cheeks hollowing around his sack. “I love it. Who would’ve fucking thought that I’d land such a good slut?”

Your moan was muffled, slightly distorted, but he heard it all the same. His eyes curved into crescents. “You like that, huh?”

He abandoned the grip he had on your hair in order to enclose his fingers around his length instead.

“Show me your tongue. Yeah, like that.” He bit down on his bottom lip when you flawlessly executed his command. Jimin kept you like that for a while, your tongue hanging out and waiting on him like an obedient dog. He seemed in no hurry to get the show on the road, content with observing while he fisted his cock in lazy strokes. It was humiliating but your core had never felt this on fire.

Saliva pooled in your mouth and threatened to overflow. Just when it started to trickle down the sides of your open mouth, Jimin fed you his meaty cock as a reward.

“Now show me what a good slut is capable of.”

It was all the motivation you needed to take him as deep as your throat allowed. Your throat, unaccustomed to the stretch and burn, had difficulty adjusting. Patiently, Jimin let you to take all the time you needed. Determined to perform well, you worked on his cock until he was all you could taste and smell.

Jimin was a lot more vocal than what you had imagined. It was a pleasant surprise. Guys usually held back - refused to give up that semblance of control - but Jimin’s ego was far from fragile. Whenever you swallowed he sucked in a quick breath of air, and when the muscles in your throat clamped down around his length he hissed out deep groans, their low timbre sending shivers down your back.

You paid close attention to his reactions and cataloged them. And that feeling - of having to learn someone’s ticks - was one that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Maybe if the circumstances had permitted it, you would have explored that feeling, questioned what it meant and why you enjoyed it. As it was, you were valiantly trying not to make unattractive whale sounds every time Jimin’s fat cock jabbed the back of your throat.

It seemed like ages before your throat finally relaxed enough to take him all the way down to the hilt. Jimin kept a firm hand on top of your head, not exerting enough pressure to lock you in place, but the implication was there.

“Fuck.” His balls ached, feeling like they were about to burst. The closer he approached climax, the more his tongue ran loose. “You take it so good, make me feel so fucking good. Choke on my fat cock—just like that. A little longer, c’mon, I know you can take it. Good girl. God, you’re so—oh fuck!”

The muscles in the back of your throat had closed up and you gagged from lack of air. Eyes glassy from unshed tears, you struggled to not clamp down your teeth on his dick as your body was pushed to its limits. Only Jimin’s moans of ecstasy kept you from pulling back too soon—that and the deathly tight grip in your hair.

“Your mouth should be illegal.” Mercifully he let you catch your breath. The respite was brief. Your lungs burned but you had no time to do anything about it before he used the grip in your hair to slam you back down his length.

If you had been able to set the pace before, there was no possibility of that now. Jimin used your mouth like he was paying for it, his rhythm fast-paced and erratic. The rough treatment should have provoked objection and a litany of protests but to your shame and surprise, there was not a fiber in your body that wanted to stop.

You knew that Jimin was nearing his end long before he announced it. He tried to keep the shakiness out of his voice, but there was no hiding the signs of his impending orgasm.

Jimin hissed out a few last obscenities, his tongue stumbling to get out the words as his entire body tensed up like a volcano about to erupt. “Better swallow it all, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to dirty the pool I worked so hard to clean, now would you? That wouldn’t be very nice…”

You sucked harder in reply, your tongue pressed up against a sensitive vein near the head of his dick. The hold on your hair tightened and he groaned in ecstasy, pleasure wracking his entire frame. “’Atta girl. You’re gonna take me right down your throat. Gonna show me how well you take it? Prove to me that you’re a good girl ‘til the end, hnn?”

Bitterness coated your tongue before he could finish formulating his question. It flooded your mouth in thick spurts.

Yoongi had always claimed that your greed was boundless when it came to cum. You were only proving his words to be true by swallowing everything down in large gulps. It was a bit on the depraved side—you knew some of your friends wouldn’t swallow semen even if they got paid millions for it—but you loved it. You sucked him down until you were certain that he had nothing left to give you.

“So fucking greedy.” Jimin huffed out a laugh and eased you off when the stimulation became too painful to bear. “Knew the moment I met you that you were just gagging for a taste. Look at you… Don’t even need to tell you to clean me off.”

Now that you were no longer caught up in the moment, it was easier to think straight. Arousal still pulsed between your legs but it had been dulled, no longer screaming for attention.

“My husband taught me well.”

Jimin raised a brow, mouth splitting into a grin. “Maybe I should thank him.”

“That would be the polite thing to do.” Would it? What protocol should be followed after face-fucking your boss’s wife? “Though I think Yoongi should be the one thanking you.”

“Hmm.” Jimin chose not to question. Less questions, meant less involvement and he hadn’t been lying when he had said that he liked to keep his distance. Even without the questions, Jimin was perceptive enough to pick up on the unsaid. The look on your face told him everything he needed to know. “You like him a lot, that elusive husband of yours.”

“Would I be here if I didn’t?” you said, making him pause.

For once, Jimin found himself at a loss for words.

There was something disconcerting about your smirk that had his stomach twisting in knots. It was not the look he expected to see. Instead of the residual yearning and disappointment, there was nothing but satisfaction written on your face. It bothered him for a reason he could not quite grasp.

Without really knowing how or why, Jimin's instincts told him that he had been played at his own game.

{MONDAY. 10.32 am}

“It’s today, isn’t?”

You kept the phone pressed close to your ear by raising your shoulder into an exaggerated shrug. Your hands were otherwise occupied, one of them taking out a hair roller, the other applying a deep red color onto the soft pillow of your lips.

It was hard work—one wrong move would stain the skin around your mouth. On any other day, you wouldn’t dare rush, but today there was no time to erase and reapply. You were on a tight schedule. Luckily for you, you had the art of multitasking down to a T.

On the other side of the line, Bogum replied to your inquiry. You hummed in a distracted manner, too busy observing your reflection for any imperfections.

Satisfied with your handwork, you smacked your lips together. Red was the perfect choice. Femme fatales like Marilyn and Brigitte would be proud.

“He left so early this morning I wasn’t even able to wish him luck. Do you happen to know when he’ll be done? He won’t be home before... Ah - I see. Okay, yes, of course I will. No, that’ll be all, thank you Mr. Park. I will, thank you. Have a nice day.”

After casting one last pleased once-over at your reflection in the vanity mirror, you made your way to the conservatory with all the smugness of someone who knew that they were in for the fuck of their life.

And there was no better candidate for the job than Kim Seokjin.

Equipped with model-like proportions and a face that belonged on the silver screen, he was the epitome of beauty. Renaissance artists would have begged on their knees to replicate his good looks on canvas. You knew, however, just by looking at his perfectly symmetrical features, that someone as physically perfect as Kim Seokjin was incapable of being duplicated. Renowned and prestigious painters would have struggled to capture the aura he radiated, their painted renditions crude imitations of the real thing.

His presence alone inspired adulation. With that kind of face, it was probably common occurrence that throngs of women - and men - threw themselves reverently at his feet like he was a god and the world was his temple.

In other words—Seokjin was unworldly beautiful.

...And he also had the ego to match it.

In that aspect, he reminded you of Jimin. They were both individuals who would never settle for sub-par fucks, even if their lives depended on it.

Seokjin was well aware of his worth and he probably thought himself deserving of the best. Unlike Jimin, he had no interest in playing games. You knew that with him, there would be no give and take, no push and pull, no ploys of seduction. If he liked what he saw enough, he’d bite. If he didn’t, he’d turn up his nose and move on to the next best thing.

Maybe the past few days had gone to your head, filling you with undeserved confidence, but you were convinced that he wouldn’t turn you down. Not when you had on your fuck-me-heels and a dress you knew for a fact made your ass look fantastic.

You looked fucking good. In the past an outfit like this would have been sufficient incentive for Yoongi to bend you over the nearest piece of furniture and fuck you silly until your legs turned to jello and you forgot what day of the month it was.

If it had once worked on Yoongi – the toughest stone to crack – then Seokjin would most likely break as easily. As monumental as his ego was, Seokjin wasn’t an impenetrable fortress.

Still…you had expected a bit more resistance than the reality you were met with. When you had asked him whether he’d fancy taking a break, your tone unmistakably suggestive, Seokjin had proceeded to ditch the protective gloves and cleaning equipment, not needing to be asked twice, and had promptly followed you into the house with the enthusiasm of a puppy promised a treat.

As soon as you had crossed the threshold, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off of you. Large hands groped whatever handfuls of flesh they were able to reach, zealous in their exploration. You giggled at his blatant impatience. All of your assumptions were proved right—Seokjin was undoubtedly accustomed to getting whatever he wanted, when he wanted. He took without hesitation, his movements bold and unabashed.

You had to physically pull him down the hallway in order to get him to move. If he had his way, he would have probably taken you right there against the wall, too impatient to bother with the removal of clothes.

“In here?” he gawked, his eyes darting around the room in alarm. “You want to fuck on your husband’s bed.”

You huffed out an amused breath. “It’s my bed, too. Where did you expect me to bring you, the rooftop?”

Seokjin paused, considering. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed around an invisible knot of nerves.

In the background, only the quiet whir of a ceiling fan could be heard. If you listened hard enough, you’d probably be able to hear the conflicting thoughts warring through his mind.

Inwardly, you rolled your eyes. What kind of skewered sense of moral righteousness was this? He was fine fucking his boss’s wife but not in his bed?

Seokjin didn’t take too long to arrive at the same conclusion.

“Alright,” he said, mind made up. Any trace of hesitation had been erased from his eyes, replaced only by fiery resolve. “Let’s get it.”

“I—” you opened your mouth and then closed it.

You had forgotten what it was like to fuck around with fratboys. It brought you back to a time when the only available guys around you were as vapid as they were handsome. It came without saying that hooking up with the star players on the football team had come with its perks—like their short refractory periods and unbeatable stamina. But all in all, the list of cons had outweighed the pros, and you had come to the conclusion that fifteen minutes of sex with a hot guy wasn’t worth the pain of being bored out of your mind.

Meeting Yoongi had been a breath of much needed fresh air. You still recalled the elation and excitement of meeting someone so sophisticated and worldly. College kids couldn’t hold a candle to him.

Seokjin bent down and kissed you.

You had been so engrossed in your thoughts that the feeling of his lips against your own did not register at first. But Seokjin was insistent and refused to be ignored. He worked his mouth against yours, tongue hot and probing the seam of your mouth.

Instinctively, you gave in to his advances, your body responding before your brain had the chance to catch up. His plush lips were soft and tasted slightly of coconut. Most importantly, they were experienced in the art of kissing. Seokjin kissed you fervently, tongue swiping against yours, determined to elicit as many moans as he could from you.

“That’s better,” he said between two pants. “I want you like this.”

You hummed, slightly dazed. “Like what?”

In lieu of an answer, Seokjin cupped your cheek and angled your head to the side so that he could kiss you deeper.

You had no opportunity to demand a verbal reply—not when his mouth kept you otherwise occupied. As the seconds stretched on, you felt yourself go weak in the knees. If it wasn’t for the firm hold he had around your waist, bracing you against his concrete-hard chest, you were certain you’d have already crumpled into an inelegant heap on the floor.

Hours or minutes could have elapsed—you had no clue. It was only when Seokjin pulled up for air that time seemed to regain its true course. You blinked away the spots dotting your vision, the world slowly coming back into focus.

“Yeah, like this,” Seokjin smiled down at you, pleased with what he saw. “I want you like this—thinking only of me, no one else. I’m the only one you’ll ever think of after this, won’t I?”

You cleared your throat, not trusting your voice. Seokjin raised an eyebrow like he expected an answer and you obliged, albeit a bit wobbly. “I’m not sure that’ll be enough to get me to remember you.”

Seokjin laughed. You could feel it rumble in his chest, so loud was his amusement. “You only say that because you haven’t been with a man like me. Once I give it to you, you’ll never think about another cock again.”

You tilted your head as if unconvinced. You had heard variants of the same promise over the years and had learned not to hold anyone to their word.

“What do you need?” Seokjin cajoled. “Tell me what you need from me and I’ll give it to you, babygirl.”

“I need a cock in me.” The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable.

He exhaled sharply, not expecting you to be so blunt. “Fuck, okay.”

One of his hands reached down for the silver buckle of his belt but the nervous buzz thrumming through his body made him clumsy. After a few seconds of fumbling with the button of his jeans, you joined in to help. His impatience seemed to have rubbed off on you because you found that you had no use for unnecessary prolongations. As crude as the thought was, you needed to be fucked. Preferably sooner than later.

“Shit.” His jaw clenched just as your hand squeezed around his length.

“You’re so big, what the fuck.” You palmed his girth once again, just to confirm your initial assessment. And—yep. He was fucking packing.

So he really had hit the genetic jackpot. Huh, you intoned, not really surprised by the discovery. Some people really did have all the luck in the world.

You fell to your knees unceremoniously. The polished floorboards dug into your shins but you were quick to dismiss the discomfort, too taken by the sizable length in front of your face. It wasn’t impressively thick, but the length was just right. Your thighs tightened as you imagined how well it could fill you up.

Impatience got the best of you and you spit into your palm, too lazy to go grab the lube from the bedside table. You used both hands to work his member to stiffness, occasionally leaning forward to spit onto his growing erection, the excess saliva easing the glide of skin on skin.

“Fuck, keep going. Get me ready to fuck you.” The sound of his voice made you glance up for the first time.

From this angle, Seokjin positively towered above you.

God, you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

Lust pumped through your veins, warming you from the inside out. Seeing him so affected made you re-double your efforts. The only thought crossing your mind right then was how much you wanted to see him to fall apart.

You twisted your hand with every upstroke, paying extra attention to the sensitive underside near the head of his cock. Every time you let your thumb stroke that particular area, Seokjin’s hips thrust forward of their own accord, a muffled groan of satisfaction making its way past his lips before he could swallow them down.

As much as he tried to appear unaffected, you could tell that he was slowly but surely being worn down. His hands balled into fists at his sides, nails digging white crescents onto the surface of his skin in an attempt to reign in his raging desires.

When you reached down to play with his balls, Seokjin decided that he had had enough.

Yanking you up by the arm, he manhandled you onto the bed, lifting you around like you weighed next to nothing. The perfectly ironed Egyptian cotton sheets crinkled under your weight but you couldn’t care less. By the end of the night, those wrinkles would be the least of your concerns.

“You sure about this, right?” He asked while kicking his pants and briefs all the way off. The rest of his clothes followed suit, and you gulped audibly as he revealed his broad shoulders, chiseled chest and slim waist in all their glorious nakedness. “Once I start I won’t hold back… And I’m not sure you’re ready for the fuck of your life.”

“Yes! I need a cock so bad. Please.”

Ignoring your whiny pleas, he bent his torso over the edge of the bed, blindly searching through the discarded clothes piled up on the floor.

“Condom. Where the fuck did I—Aha!” He grinned triumphantly when he found the foil packet in the back pocket of his jeans.

“I don’t need it,” you cut in before he ripped it open. “I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Wha— Are you serious?” Momentarily stunned, he gaped down at you, condom wrapper still clutched between his fingers. “You want me to raw you.”

His crude phrasing made you squirm. “I like the feeling of cum in my pussy…” You felt your cheeks flame at the confession. “If you’re clean then please don’t use it.”

Seokjin chewed his bottom lip, visibly lost in thought.

“Please? Want to feel you fill me to the brim.” His eyes flashed. You knew you had him, then.

When he spoke next, it was more out courtesy than due to indecisiveness. “What about Mr. Min?”

“What about me?” a familiar voice cut through the air.

You both startled, heads whipping towards the doorway. Except, unlike you, Seokjin recoiled, stumbling back like he had been burnt by a hot iron, his hands seizing the nearest pillow to cover up his modesty. From an outside perspective it must have been quite the sight.

“Oh please don’t stop on my account. Keep going, we were just getting to the good part,” Yoongi said coolly as he crossed his arms over his chest. He was still in his work clothes but had lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way. His white dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves and your eyes were instantly drawn to his arms. One of the corners of his mouth twitched when he took note of your interest but his face remained otherwise blank, giving nothing away.

“W-what?” Seokjin gulped, any of his earlier bravado gone.

"Did I stutter?" Yoongi’s tone was monotone, almost bored. But his eyes—they told a whole different story. They pierced right through you, pinning you in place. Not that there was anywhere else you'd rather be than here, right now, with him, in this bedroom. You had been waiting for this moment for so long that the anticipation was killing you.

His cold gaze slid back over to Seokjin as he silently seized him up. "Well? Didn't I hear you say you were going to give my wife 'the fuck of her life'?" Yoongi's words were twisted with sarcasm. It was evident that he was looking down on Seokjin, his tone nothing but straight up condescending.

The way they talked about you like you weren’t even in the room should have been off-putting but for now you preferred to watch the scene unfold without interfering. There would be plenty of time to play later.

"What? Can't put your money where your mouth is?" Yoongi scoffed and leaned back against the wooden doorframe, feigning disappointment.

Seokjin bristled, deeply offended.

Internally, it dawned on you that this might be the first time someone had so openly challenged Seokjin. You knew guys like him—they were used to getting their way, used to being showered in constant praise, used to people coming back and begging for seconds, so thirsty for more they’d settle for scraps. Yoongi contempt had probably knocked Seokjin out of his orbit, rattling the latter to the core.

"You think I can't pleasure her?" he dared ask, eyebrows inflexed. His attempt at intimidation would have been more efficient had he not been the only one naked, you observed from the sidelines.

"Go on." Yoongi waved his hand, looking like he couldn't care less. "I'd like to see you try."

The clear disregard made Seokjin's jaw tick. His heavy brow furrowed. For the first time since Yoongi's presence was made known, Seokjin rounded on you, his normally honey brown irises now a murky, indescribable color.

You shuddered, high on the feeling of being the subject of both of their attention.

The air crackled with electricity, the tension escalating by the second, and you realized that playtime had arrived faster than anticipated.

Seokjin approached you, much like a lion stalking his prey. You couldn't help but notice the determined glint in his eye, the confidence he wore unfailingly till the end. In his mind, he was going to win. He had no doubt about it. You were going to bend to his will and cum hard on his tongue just like the countless others had before you.

You almost felt bad for him.

Maybe... Maybe if you had met him years ago, things would have gone exactly like how Seokjin pictured it in his head. But what he failed to realize was that he was in Yoongi's den, playing by Yoongi's rules.

And your husband? He never started anything he knew he wouldn't be able to finish. That was the business man in him. He measured the risks and calculated the cost before any operation, thus ensuring that he would never be beaten.

It was easy to tell by his relaxed posture that he really did view Seokjin as a non-threat.

You had known, of course, that he had never considered losing as an option. Yoongi had been the one to propose this particular game in the first place, after all. Even if it was a first for the both of you, he must have known that the stakes would always remain in his favor.

“Ready?” The mattress dipped under his weight. Seokjin crawled over you, kneeling so that his legs bracketed yours. There was a fire in his eyes that hadn’t been there fifteen minutes ago. He looked like a man with something to prove.

Inadvertently, your gaze flitted back to the doorway, searching for Yoongi’s. You wanted to see his face, needed to see how he’d react to another man touching you.

“Eyes up here.” Reluctantly, you followed Seokjin’s instructions. He noticed your pout right away. “When I’m through with you, you won’t even remember you’re married.”

Gutsy. Your head turned to catch Yoongi’s reaction but Seokjin stopped you by leaning down to kiss you full on the lips.

It was a strange feeling. Usually, you shut out the rest of the world, attention solely focused on the pair of lips moving against your own, but instead you felt hyper-aware of every little thing going on around you, ears straining as you tried to figure out what Yoongi was up to.

Seokjin nipped your swollen lip, unhappy with how your mind kept drifting. You tried to make a more conscious effort and show more interest, running your hands up and down his arms and letting out puffs of air whenever his hands ghosted over a ticklish area of your body.

Now that you had become a more active participant, you had finally begun to appreciate the slow pace Seokjin had built up. Contrary to your expectations, he hadn’t shoved his horse dick into you and hammered away. He took his time with you, making a show out of it. You couldn’t say you disliked it.

Okay, so, admittedly your expectations had been pretty low to begin with... But you were quickly seeing the errors of your ways. And, in your personal opinion, it was always better to be pleasantly surprised than the opposite.

Yoongi did not share the sentiment.

It was the first time a stranger had been invited into your shared bedroom. Seeing another man settled against the pillows he slept on at night wasn’t a sight he had ever imagined he’d see—let alone enjoy.

And for a while, he let himself watch without intruding in on the scene, a foreign and inexplicable feeling rooting him to the spot. Yoongi had no name for it but the longer he played spectator, the more intense the emotion became.

Beneath the alien feeling, he detected arousal and although he wasn’t sure what exactly he found exciting about the sight in front of him, a ball of desire coiled tightly at the base of his spine.

Objectively, both of you looked beautiful together. Your words had not done Seokjin’s beauty justice. When he looked at the pair of you intertwined, it was like watching a high quality Hollywood movie. But Yoongi knew that his arousal wasn’t just surface level. It ran deeper than that.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he goaded, needing to confirm his suspicions. “You should get her ready to take cock. She hasn’t been fucked in a while, so she’ll be tight.”

He saw how his words made you squirm and smothered a smirk. He couldn’t wait to deal with you.

When Seokjin looked up to meet his gaze, Yoongi was surprised to see incredulity present in the brown of his eyes.

“Wait.” He swallowed, suddenly losing the confidence he had sported earlier. “Y-you’re actually serious about this?”

Ah. Yoongi suspected that the slow pace hadn’t been because Seokjin had wanted to enjoy his wife, but because he had been waiting for Yoongi to jump in and put a premature end to all of this.

“Looks like you really were all talk. But what else should I have expected from some college grad student…”

Provoking him into action proved to be too easy. The line of Seokjin’s mouth hardened and he renewed his previous efforts. He grew bolder, hands deliberately reaching for your breasts to squeeze them through the expensive material of your dress. The kiss became sloppier as well, losing all finesse. From what Yoongi could see, there was less technique, but more tongue and teeth.

Whatever fire Yoongi had lit inside him had made him careless.

Yoongi’s pointed stare never strayed. As if sensing the scrutiny directed his way, Seokjin fumbled with his movements, eager to prove but too frenzied to actually accomplish anything.

By the looks of it, he wouldn’t be able to find your clitoris even it was drawn on a map with the step by step instructions attached. Yoongi would find the whole situation laughable if he wasn’t so affronted on your behalf.

“Do you know how to fuck a woman or not?” he spat out, exasperated.

“Just a minute, I’m—”

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” Yoongi interrupted, his curt tone leaving no room for argument. He loosened up his tie with one hand as he continued, voice sharp, “Go sit up by the headboard and don’t even think of moving. That means no touching your dick, either.”

There was a tense moment of silence as Seokjin gaped at him, his eyes wide as he tried to quickly process the rapid turn of events.

"I won't force you to stay. It's your call. But if you choose to play with us, you're abiding by my rules."

Seokjin looked like he wanted to argue and put up a fight and for half a second, you really thought that he would. Yoongi took his silence as a favorable answer, certain that the younger man wouldn't leave.

“I’m feeling generous tonight so I’ll let you watch. You can think of it as a learning experience. I’ll even show you how to make my slut soak the sheets.” A smile curved his lips, taunting. “And maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you lick it up. How’s that sound?”

Yoongi raised his brow in challenge and that was all it took for Seokjin to slowly make his way to the edge of the bed, his back hitting the mahogany wood with a dull thud.

Yoongi liked to think he was a reasonable man.

He was fine with a lot of things—you maxing out his credit cards on ridiculously expensive items of clothing that you never wore more than once, you taking out his newest car for a spin in the big city without permission, you spending an extra thirty minutes on your hair and makeup when he was running late for a dinner function.

What he was not okay with, however, was you sharing your pussy with barely-out-of-college boys who were incapable of going five seconds without creaming their pants.

No, that was where he drew the line.

You were a woman with standards. You had married him, not some pretty-faced fratboy, had you not? If that wasn’t sufficient proof, then what was?

As vain and prideful as it sounded, Yoongi refused to be put on the same level of the other men who chased after you. Unlike those men who salivated over you like a piece of quality meat, he knew exactly what you wanted and what you needed.

In the bedroom, a voice in the back of his mind corrected. You only know what she wants in the bedroom.

Yoongi swallowed, forcing the sudden feeling of inadequacy down his throat. He had failed you on that end. Old habits were hard to kill and he had learned of the consequences the hard way.

It had always been like that. Even as a kid, Yoongi liked rationality and reasoning, preferring numbers to the abstract. Equations had solutions, emotions did not. Before he had met you, every little thing he did had answered logic’s call. He woke up because he had to get to work. He ate because his body needed the energy to survive.

He was so used to fending for himself, of thinking of himself as a unit, that sometimes he forgot that his actions affected others as well. In retrospect, his lack of empathy had most likely been the root of the reason why all of his previous relationships had failed miserably.

People had never stayed long enough to work the issues out. Maybe they figured that he was too anchored in his habits to change or too emotionless to understand. There was also the financial imbalance that factored in and despite Yoongi’s verbal reassurances, none of it had helped. It was…uncomfortable, to say the least. His previous partners had never dared voice out their concerns and worries and Yoongi hated it, hated feeling like he was using his money to keep people in his life, no matter how miserable they clearly felt on the inside.

With you, it was different.

Yoongi reached the foot of the bed and met your honest gaze. Something squeezed his heart tightly and refused to let go. Despite all his flaws, you had stayed. Not out of obligation or monetary obsession—but out of love.

Love…was hard to define. Every time he thought he knew what it meant, it turned out he didn’t. But as he stood there with you finally at an arm’s reach, he thought he felt the emotion beating against his rib cage, making a home in his chest.

“Yoongi.” Your fingers twitched at your side, like they wanted to reach out for him but weren’t sure if they were allowed to.

When he draped himself over your body and interlaced his fingers with yours, it was as if something inside him finally locked into place.

“My love.” Your pulse jumped at the term of endearment. He liked using it ever since you had let slip that none of your previous lovers had ever called you that way. Even if you had initially complained that it made him sound like a fifty year old man, he knew you enjoyed it by the way your body never failed to respond. “I’ve made you wait long enough.”

He meant it in more ways than one. Yoongi was ready to give you everything, body and soul. He belonged to you.

“Are you going to do something about it?” You held your breath and waited for his answer, anticipation turning you into a squirming mess against the sheets.

“This dress brings back many memories,” he said instead, pointer finger tracing down the line of your cleavage. From this distance, Yoongi could count every single beauty mark that speckled your skin. His memory supplied images of himself licking and connecting each dot, the hot drag of his tongue leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. His mouth hungered for a taste but Yoongi curbed the desire before it had the chance to cloud his judgment. “Although I thought I had ruined it beyond saving a long time ago.”

“Your black card bought me a new one.”

Yoongi snorted, the unrefined sound breaking his cool façade. “Let’s get it off you. As much as I adore it, it looks better on the ground.”

“Take what’s yours.”

Yoongi wasted not a second more, the hurried movements of his hands conveying his burning arousal. With deft fingers, he found the zipper of your dress and pulled, watching with satisfaction as inch after inch of naked skin was exposed.

“Naughty slut.” His eyes narrowed as he admired your exposed body. Yoongi forced himself to keep his hands still at his sides even though he was dying to relieve his painful erection from the tight confines of his briefs. “Are you always bare under your clothes?”

“The lines…�� you mumbled and trailed off. “My dress is so tight that my bra and panties show if I wear any.”

Yoongi scoffed, forcing his eyebrows into an expression of disbelief. “So you’re not okay with strangers seeing the outline of your thong, but fine with them ogling your hard nipples? Why? That desperate for them to know what a horny wife I have?”

“I wouldn’t be this horny if you fucked me more often.” You glared.

A beat of silence passed before Yoongi unlocked his jaw. “We’ll have to do something about that mouth later. Seems like a lesson on manners is in order.”

“Counting on it, sir,” was your cheeky answer.

Yoongi’s hand came down with a crack. He watched as your whole body jolted from the impact. “Hands and knees. No, the other way. Face our guest. Since you like showing off your tits so much, here’s another perfect opportunity to do so.”

In your haste to follow his orders, you stumbled several times, knees knocking together as you readjusted yourself to his whims. Without needing to be told, you spread out your legs and arched your back, leaving the most intimate parts of you completely exposed for his viewing pleasure. If he wanted to take you right then, there was nothing stopping him from doing so.

Seokjin was all but forgotten at this point. He could have left the room and Yoongi wouldn’t have noticed—or cared. His vision had tunneled, his entire world narrowed down to the sight of you presenting yourself just like a good whore should. It seemed like you were equally affected, if not more. Yoongi spread your cheeks so that he could fully appreciate the view of your drenched pussy. If he had ever doubted your arousal, your slick thighs, shiny with your juices, and swollen lips were enough proof to dispel such uncertainties.

“You’re all mine to take,” he said in a soft growl.

He knelt behind you and ran his hands up the back of your sticky thighs. This position left him at the perfect height to eat you out. His mouth watered at the prospect of finally having his fill. Too long had he deprived himself of a delicious meal… It was time to fix that.

You moaned the instant his finger came into contact with your rapidly hardening clit. Your feeble attempts at shoving your hips back for more were thwarted by Yoongi's strong grip on your thigh, the rough pads of his fingertips bruising the soft skin in warning. It took a herculean effort to keep still but you somehow managed, knowing that your obedience would pay off.

Yoongi liked to enjoy his meals. He took his time with you, playing with the abundance of wetness that had collected between your thighs, dragging his digits across your velvety folds.

He loved taking you this way. With you offered up to him ass up and legs spread, he could really get into it, mouth and hands dictating the pace without your interference. There was nothing you could do save for holding open your cheeks and plead for more.

Sometimes—when he felt merciful—he indulged you. But he could not deny that there was something infinitely more satisfying when he drew out your pleasure until you shook and cried with need.

“Mhmm.” His groan echoed yours as he slid in his ring finger into your hot cunt. You were so aroused that the stretch could hardly be felt. “Snug and wet. S’gonna be a tight fit when I open you up with my cock later.”

The unspoken promise of cock made your walls squeeze around his finger and Yoongi groaned again as he imagined how amazing you’d feel around his painful erection instead of his hand.

For now, he pushed the ache aside. The only one that mattered right now was you.

He flattened his tongue and let it drag across your folds, moaning as the taste of you flooded his mouth. Fuck. It wasn’t enough, he thought frantically. As he continued to lick into you like a man starved, he wondered how he could ever possibly tire of your taste. How he had managed to stay away from it all this time was a mystery he had yet to solve.

Your cries of pleasure grew louder as his tongue fucked into you, sampling the snugness of your walls for what would come later. Wetness dripped down his chin but he could care less about the mess you made. He kept licking it up, not wanting to stop for a single second, only pulling off whenever his lungs burned from lack of air.

Attuned to your body and its needs, he felt every tremor and hitch of breath. Whenever he sensed your heart rate kick up, he slowed down and changed the tempo. He kept you on the edge like that for several long minutes, building you up only to bring you back to zero.

Finally, he pulled back, ignoring the betrayed cry he ripped from your throat, and wiped the shine off his chin with the back of his hand. The taste of you was still heavy on his tongue and he couldn’t help but lick his lips clean in satisfaction. Nothing pleased him more than feasting between your legs and it would be a lie to say that he hadn’t missed it terribly.

A creak of the mattress distracted him. Seokjin shifted uncomfortably, his erection prominent. By the looks of it, he had been hard for a rather long time. Yoongi was pleased to see that Seokjin had stayed true to his word—his hands were obediently shoved under the meat of his thighs to prevent himself from touching himself.

Yoongi had been so focused on the five-star meal nestled between your thighs that he had forgotten his manners.

“Darling, it’s time to show our guest what a lovely host you are.” He punctured his command with a sharp swat to your ass.

You stumbled forward but looked back at him for guidance. “How—?”

“Don’t think I forgot how well you begged for cock earlier,” he reminded you. “You still desperate for it?”

“Want,” you shook your head, confused. “Want yours.”

The features of his face softened. “You’ll get mine soon enough. But you know only good sluts get my cock and I still need some convincing.”

“I’m good,” you insisted, your lips pursed into a pout.

He raised his brow and tilted his head.

Squinting your eyes defiantly, you crawled over to Seokjin and begged, shameless and past the point of caring about modesty. “Please fuck my face.”

“Is that—?” Seokjin gulped, looking down at you with worried eyes. “Will you be okay?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” A wicked grin played at Yoongi’s lips. “I’ve cock trained her to take it like a good slut should.”

The unabashed moan his words provoked was all it took for Seokjin to know that you were fully on board with him fucking your face. His eyes widened imperceptibly at how shameless you looked, mouth open with your tongue out, panting for his hardened length down your throat like a bitch in heat.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, squeezing the base of his cock to keep himself together.

Your lewd display seemed to amuse Yoongi to no end.

“Look, she’s hungry for it. Don’t keep her waiting, she’s been good.”

Seokjin gave in. No matter what others believed, he was only human. All men had their limits and Seokjin’s self-restraint had been tested too many times today to count. He fed you his cock, slipping inch after inch into your hot mouth.

His groan of appreciation vibrated deep in his chest and he tipped his head back as the feeling of your mouth momentarily overwhelmed him.

It didn’t take long for him to get lost in the feeling. Although he had had his reservations about the entire thing, Seokjin stopped holding back once he saw how enthusiastic you were. You sucked his cock, working him down even if it was obvious his sizeable length wasn’t making it easy.

“Force it down,” instructed Yoongi.

Seokjin jumped, his eyes flying open as he remembered the older man’s presence. Your mouth was so good he had erased everything else in the room.

“What?”

“She won’t be able to take it in her throat unless you help her.” Yoongi observed with almost clinical detachment. Seokjin took a moment to admire the man’s calm and collected attitude. The moment dissipated quickly, however. Your tongue had started doing things to the head of his cock that had him biting down whines of pleasure.

You laughed around his dick when he failed to suppress one of them. Seokjin’s erection twitched as the vibrations teased him further and he groaned out a few creative expletives that had you giggling harder.

His hips kicked up of their own accord, making you gag loudly as his length reached the back of your throat. Seokjin almost apologized but you dug your nails into the meat of his ass and signaled him to do it again.

He swore again and fucked into your mouth slowly at first but once he saw you could take it, started building a pace. “Holy s-shit. I’m going to blow my load soon, fucking fuck.”

That only seemed to strengthen your determination. You got even tighter around him, almost like you were trying to milk the cum out of his dick with your mouth.

Yoongi approached with the stealth of a cat, making sure not to startle you when you had a cock buried in your throat. Seokjin glanced up and was glad to see that the man wasn’t wholly unaffected. Compared to when he had first met him, Yoongi looked a lot less composed. His once perfectly ironed button-down was now wrinkled, his tie loosened and crooked. And then there was his cock—hard and leaking.

Seokjin’s balls tightened and he blinked through the haze, not knowing why he was so turned on by being watched. Yoongi kept the grip on his dick loose, his strokes lazy and unhurried. Next to him, Seokjin felt like he was about a minute or two away from nutting down your throat.

“Want to know why she’s so desperate for your cum?” The way he said it—like he was imparting a guarded secret—made Seokjin look up at him through heavy lids. Every so often his lids would droop close, attention wavering with every lick of your wicked tongue.

Yoongi leaned in so close that his breath tickled the side of his neck. “It’s because she knows that it’s the only way I’ll give her what she’s been so desperately craving all this time—my fat cock fucking her pussy.”

Seokjin was unsure who the words were truly aimed at. You reacted like they had been whispered for your benefit, moaning without reserve around his dick.

"She's so cock hungry she was willing to seduce handsome pool boys if it meant that she'd get fucked by me. Reward the slut. Cum, now."

“Oh fuck!” Seokjin threw his head back as he felt his balls empty themselves. The muscles in his thighs quivered and his knees threatened to give out. “What the fuck. I haven’t cum this hard in months.”

His chest heaved as he got his heartbeat under control. When he was finally capable of breathing normally, he chanced a glace down at you and swore his heart stopped for a nanosecond.

Yoongi had pried your mouth open with his fingers, examining the insides of your mouth. The sight was…obscene. Straight out of a porno. Seokjin’s stomach tightened as he observed the scene in front of him, feeling his spent dick twitch in interest despite the recent mind-numbing orgasm.

“Good girl,” praised Yoongi and even to Seokjin’s ears, he sounded proud of his wife’s achievements. “Spit.”

He motioned at his raging boner. “Get me ready to fuck you. With how long it’s been, you’re going to need all the lube you can get.”

Visibly excited at the prospect of finally getting your husband’s cock, you obliged, gathering all the cum in your mouth and letting it drip down his erect length in globs of white. Seokjin had never experimented with cumplay and didn’t know if the sight aroused or disgusted him.

“Mhm,” Yoongi grunted as he slicked up his dick, coating the entirety of it in another man’s cum. The sound of each stroke rang out loudly in the otherwise quiet room, the sound lewd and wet.

“Please fuck me now,” you pleaded, hands clasped in your lap and knees still tucked under you from earlier. The position and sweet tone made you appear demure—but by now Seokjin knew better. “You promised.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He smiled wide enough for creases to appear near his eyes. “Time to give you what you worked so hard for.”

Yoongi didn’t wait for a reply—not that he had been expecting one in the first place. He pushed you back until your back hit the mattress and crawled over you, pinning you to the bed with his weight.

He kept his eyes level with yours as he pushed the head of his cock into you. The stretch was slow but he refused to go faster, ignoring your noises of encouragement. Despite his earlier rough treatment, he had no interest in inflicting this kind of pain. He kept his hips still, not giving in to his instincts, and waited until you had completely adjusted before finally moving again.

Your moan sounded more genuine this time. It was enough to convince Yoongi that you were ready for more. “You always let out the prettiest sounds for me.”

He pulled out all the way only to slam back in, the intrusion earning him a throaty moan, louder than the last. Grinning, he kept up the slow yet deep thrusts, balls slapping against your ass with every rock of his hips into yours.

Yoongi felt the best kind of dizzy, like he had smoked a blunt right before sliding into your cunt. There were only two instances where he felt this invincible and on top of the world. One, whenever he fucked your sweet pussy as he pleased. Two, when he had secured a multi-million dollar deal. Luckily for him, he had checked both boxes today. The adrenaline high he had gotten this morning at the office still ran through his veins and only fueled his desire to fuck you harder and drive your body into the mattress.

Unfortunately, he had been pent up for so long that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to give it to you like you deserved. He had been hard for God knew how long… And hadn’t had sex in almost two whole months. No wonder he felt his control slipping much faster than usual.

“Missed your cock so much,” you sobbed, hiccuping as he drove into you harder. “Thought about it every night.

“I promise I’ll never keep it away from you this long ever again.”

“Good.” Your lashes fluttered as he ground his hips into yours, pelvis rubbing against your needy clit. “Ah!”

Yoongi’s rhythm stuttered as he adjusted your legs, throwing one over his shoulder in order to reach deeper. “Missed this tight cunt. Craved it so much, I dreamt of it. Imagined you bouncing on my lap during those board meetings, bending you over the conference table and taking you in front of all of my associates. I’d let them watch, let them watch you take my cock from behind like a filthy whore.”

He abandoned his deep thrusting for quicker, shallow strokes. “Fuck, I can feel you tighten. You going to cum all over my cock for me? Did you like the idea of me fucking you in a room full of people that much?”

Yoongi’s groan of pleasure was drowned out by your scream of ecstasy. The way you clenched down like a vice was almost enough to destroy the last of his control. He gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring as he drove into you even deeper, determined to see you fall apart one last time.

Knowing that it wouldn’t take many more thrusts before he’d be pushed over the edge, he reached down between your legs to rub at your clit. You thrashed under him, over stimulated but forced to take it. If it wasn’t for his firm grip on your legs, you would have tried to buck him off.

“Ah, Yoongi! Yoongi, I’m—” You sucked in a gulp of air as your eyes rolled back. “Oh God!”

“That’s right. Cream my cock, slut,” he hissed, his shirt sticking to him uncomfortably. His fringe was matted with sweat, but he couldn’t push it out of his face, not now, not when he was so fucking close.

His thumb flicked over your clit in rough circles, knowing exactly what you needed to be pushed over the edge.

It seemed to do the trick—seconds later and he felt you break into a violent climax, pussy gushing all over his cock and muscles clamping down on him with every contraction.

Yoongi could hold it back no longer. His last thrusts were quick and rough, cock throbbing painfully as he chased his end. Hips slamming into yours, he snarled between clenched teeth, “You better take it all.”

He thought he felt your pussy throb around him as he released himself inside you, cum spurting so deep he was sure he’d painted your cervix white.

For a while, only the whirring of the ceiling fan and the sound of rapid beating of hearts could be heard. Yoongi knew he should probably go clean up and throw his soiled clothes and sheets into the hamper, but his muscles had gone lax and refused to cooperate.

You rolled onto your stomach and propped yourself up on your elbows. He cracked open an eye when he heard you clear your throat.

“So? Threesome? How did we feel about that?”

“Are you asking me?” Seokjin asked incredulously and Yoongi finally remembered there was an extra presence on their bed. When you shrugged then nodded, Seokjin snorted. “Do you always conduct polls after sex?”

Yoongi was similarly unimpressed. “No one else can make you cum as hard as I do. Remember that.”

“So this is the young man you told me so much about,” drawled Yoongi.

Jungkook’s spine straightened, the man’s low timbre doing things to his insides.

When you had announced that he’d finally be able to meet your husband, Jungkook had readily agreed, looking forward to having his curiosity finally sated.

After one unsuccessful online search, Jungkook had given up on figuring out what kind of man you had married. His imagination had pictured a middle-aged man with a beer belly who occasionally liked to play polo.

Jungkook gulped audibly, realizing he couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Of fucking course his boss had to be ridiculously handsome. With his clear skin, delicately shaped nose and lips, and small, sharp eyes that had Jungkook averting his gaze, Mr. Min was so handsome that Jungkook was left bereft of speech.

Unaware of his inner crisis, Yoongi filled the awkward silence with ease. “I believe we’ve exchanged over the phone. You may address me as Yoongi, if you so wish. My wife tells me how hard you work. I wanted to personally thank you for all your efforts. I know it’s not an easy task to work in such weather conditions.”

Oh god. They talked about him. Together.

He cleared his throat. “I’m just doing my job, sir.”

Yoongi held out his hand for him to shake. His hands were so delicate looking that the force behind his grip took Jungkook by surprise. Yoongi’s gaze never strayed, trapping him in place. Jungkook felt like a prey with nowhere to hide.

“It was a pleasure working for the both of you.” He managed without stuttering like a fool. “If ever you need me for anything else, don’t hesitate. I’ve done some gardening before and I’m ok with the odd paint jobs.”

Jungkook bit his lip and ceased his rambling. Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.”

Yoongi let the corners of his mouth curl into a smirk. He turned towards you as he watched Jungkook gather the rest of his belongings and take his leave. “You’re right. He is cute.”

“I’m always right,” you said in a distracted manner, mind elsewhere.

“You were awfully silent earlier. Hm? Not very polite.” One of his hands squeezed the dip at your waist.

You didn’t bother suppressing your glare. Yoongi merely chuckled, amused by your predicament. “I was otherwise busy.”

“Oh? But don’t you think Jungkookie would’ve enjoyed seeing my cum dripping out of your greedy pussy?” he asked, the lilt in his tone teasing. “He looked absolutely taken with you. Kept admiring your legs—not that I blame him.”

His hands played with the hem of your brazenly short dress, lifting the fabric up your thighs to uncover your naked mound.

“Would’ve been nice to treat him for all his hard work,” he commented as his fingers dipped into your hole to play with the cum he had fucked into you not even an hour ago. “And seeing cum paint your pretty thighs would have been quite the gift.”

“Yo-oongi,” you moaned his name, clenching your core as tightly as you could, not wanting to spill a single drop. “I think, ah, I think he wouldn’t have liked s-seeing your cum go to waste.”

“Is that so?”

“He looked more taken with you than with me,” you said between heavy pants. One of your hands had closed around Yoongi’s wrists in warning—you were still on the front porch for God’s sake there were kids in the neighborhood—but it hadn’t deterred him in the least. On the contrary, his fingers plundered your depths, determined to get you to drench his whole hand.

“Well…” Yoongi smiled, gums on display, as your body shuddered from head to toe. fin

“There’s only one way to test that theory out, isn’t there?”

#i gave up editing halfway bc no1 has time for that so apologies !! for any mistakes n typos !!!#ty to all my lovely friends who encouraged me to finish this fic on my own time !#u are all angels n this fic would still be in draft format if not for u :'(#bts smut #yoongi smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #seokjin smut #cries

9K notes · View notes

missmonsters2 · 5 years

Text

Leave Me Lonely

@eseqsays: Hiyo! May I request 12 and 17 with Natasha Romanoff x Reader please? I am in the mood to hurt. @marvelouschloe: Natasha x reader. 13 and 20 (angst)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Prompt Request: @yourmainlove, @eseqsays, @marvelouschloe 💗

- 12: I don’t even care that you’re breaking me. I am an absolute fucking moron because I’m always going to love you. - 13: We’re falling apart, and you don’t even care! - 14: I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay with being just your friend when I want you in my bed. - 17: I want you to say anything! Scream! Yell at me! Just something to show you fucking care. - 20: If you walk out that door, we’re done.

Notes: Thank you for sending these in! I hope you don’t mind that I’ve combined some of them as they’re similar and just fit perfectly in this story!

Warnings: Angsty angst sadness :(

Count: 3469

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“If you walk out that door, we’re done.”

You stood before the door, hand on the knob, throat burning but refusing to let any more tears fall.

Because you’ve had enough.

A part of you isn’t sure exactly what caused everything to lead up to this moment because you had believed in forever beforehand.

Because you love Natasha.

And now, everything was gone, and you can’t tell whose fault it was.

Maybe it was Natasha’s fault for being a coward.

Maybe it was yours for believing forever could exist between the two of you.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

A month earlier...

“Oh my god, shut up!” You playfully said as you slapped Natasha on the shoulder, the redhead laughing so hard you thought you could see tears in her eyes.

“I can’t believe you jumped so hard,” Natasha said between her laughter. You rolled your eyes, shifted your legs, so it rested better against Natasha’s lap.

It was movie night, and the two of you always got together alone to watch whatever movie one of you picked.

Natasha picked a horror movie knowing full well you were terrible with them. The number of times you jumped into her arms or hid under the blanket, eyes just peeing over the edge amused her to no ends.

“It’s scary!” You defended yourself.

“We’ve fought literal aliens over the years and other freaky stuff, and you’re scared of this horror movie?” Natasha snorted.

“Yeah,” you said. “And you know what we’ve never fought? Ghosts. This shit is freaky.”

Natasha only snorted softly again but didn’t say anything as the two of you resumed watching the movie.

It was silent, only the movie playing as you two focused on the screen. Natasha had her hands on your legs, stroking softly at your shin idly.

It made you warm.

Eventually, you had shifted, so the two of you were lying on the couch with Natasha on the inside. Her hand rested against your hips, drawing light circles over your exposed skin.

It was bringing goosebumps.

But it wasn’t anything new.

Even with the movie playing, your mind wandered to Natasha.

It’s been like this for two years. You were new to the team when you first came, difficult for you to adjust as you never had anybody to rely on before.

Working in the team dynamic was new for you too.

It took time, but Natasha was someone you trained a lot with, and she took her time, never rushing you to open up.

The friendship was initially slow, but before the two of you knew it, it grew into something more.

But at the same time, not enough.

The two of you were friends, there was no doubt about it. You would die for her without a second thought, and you knew she would do the same for you.

But it was like there was this invisible barrier that kept the two of you from being more.

Sure, you could touch her. You could hold her hand, stroke her skin, or lean your head on her. But you couldn’t sleep with her or kiss her.

You could tell her you love her, but never that you were in love with her.

These were boundaries that were set up by Natasha, so maybe the barrier wasn’t that invisible.

But she never slept with anyone else, never dated anyone else.

So, this was enough for you for now.

Forever doesn’t need to be rushed.

Plus, you were pretty sure things would go south if you confessed or cornered Natasha anytime soon.

“That was an awful movie.”

Natasha’s voice broke you out of your thought, her breath on your exposed ear made you shiver lightly.

You noticed the movie ended.

“You picked it,” you teased her and Natasha rolled her eyes with a smile.

She fully wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you close.

“Right,” she drawled. “Your turn to pick something, then, and no TV shows.”

“Why not!” You whined, earning a chuckle from the redhead.

“You pick TV shows that are entirely too interesting, and I cannot afford to binge-watch something this late, not when Steve wants us at the training room by 6AM tomorrow.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back slightly.

“Maybe we should head to bed then,” you sullenly say, thinking about how tired you were going to be in the morning.

Natasha sighed but nodded, but neither of you made a move to get up.

“Are you staying the night again?” Natasha asked, tapping her finger lightly on your stomach.

“Mhm,” you hummed, eyes closed. “Unless you’re kicking me out tonight.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Natasha tells you softly, and you grin. She shifts a little, and it’s a sign for you to get up.

You stretch as you do, shirt riding up and you see from the corner of your eye that it catches Natasha’s attention.

You smirk a little before heading off to the washroom.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The next week is busy as you’re busy training the new agents with Steve and Natasha was sent on a mission with Clint.

“Alright! That’s enough for the day, go hit the showers,” Steve yells, and the agents sigh in relief before shuffling out the door one by one.

Once everyone is gone, you chuckle a little bit as you take a chug of water.

“What?” Steve asks you with a slight quirk in his lips and raised brow.

“Nothing, just Amber giving you the bedroom eyes while training is hilarious.”

“What?” Steve exclaims while the tip of his ears flushes slightly as he drinks water himself.

“C’mon, you’re telling me you don’t notice her giving off the feral pheromones every day this week?”

Steve starts coughing, which makes you laugh even more.

“Like you’re one to talk,” he grumbles.

“What do you mean?” You ask as your laugh dies down.

Steve rolls his eyes, shifting his weight onto one leg.

“Like you’re not eyeing Natasha like she’s a drop of water and you’ve been stranded in the Sahara desert.”

You slapped Steve, who jumped out the way with a laugh.

“Oh my god, I do not!” You blushed.

Steven just laughed even more before the two of you settled down.

“But seriously, why don’t you just move your relationship with her to the next level. It’s obvious the two of you are crazy about each other. I haven’t seen Natasha like that...well, since ever.”

You merely shrug.

“I just...I don’t know. I don’t think we’re there yet.”

“But you want to be there,” Steve points out.

The conversation is almost making you uncomfortable because you’ve never gotten the chance to speak about how you felt about Natasha.

“I...I like where we are now,” you tell Steve who just gives you a crooked grin.

“Why are you holding back?”

You merely smile.

“There’s no need to rush forever.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Later that day, you see Natasha talking to Clint and Bruce, and you smile as you walk up to them.

“Hey!” You greet happily. “You made it back!”

Natasha just merely smiles.

“Well,” you drag. “It’s movie night. I’ll catch you at your place later?”

“No, I’m actually busy tonight,” Natasha diverts. Before you can say anything, someone calls her name, and she turns and leaves.

You stand there staring at Clint and Bruce, confusion written all over your face.

“Okay, that was weird, right?” You say to them, and they looked confused too.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Natasha is avoiding you.

You’re not sure why.

But she is.

And everyone knows it too.

You’re wondering if you did something to make her mad, but in the past, Natasha had no problem calling you out if you did something to upset her.

Every time you try to talk to her, she manages to escape. If she sees you down the hall, suddenly she has to go the other way.

There were no more movie nights.

She wasn’t in her room at night.

It was frustrating the hell out of you.

And one day, you just had enough.

So, after a training session with Steve and everyone left, you cornered Natasha.

“Okay, what gives?”

Natasha seems shocked that you’ve trapped and confronted her.

“What do you mean?” She asks as if nothing is wrong.

“Why are you avoiding me?” You frown.

“I’m not avoiding you,” Natasha denies, trying to walk around you but you block her again.

“See! Like that, you’re avoiding me.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything, but you can tell she is getting frustrated herself the way her forehead crinkles.

“Just...did I do something? Just tell me if I did something and I’ll fix it.”

“It’s nothing you did,” Natasha tries to tell you but you cut her off again.

“Well, why are you avoiding me like I have the bubonic plague? Every time I try to talk to you, you leave. When you see me coming in your direction, you turn somewhere else. You’ve canceled movie nights two nights in a row now.”

“Are you done?” Natasha asked, rather callously.

You tilt your head back in a surprised manner from her tone.

“No, I’m not done actually,” you tell her, feeling the anger rise up in you a little bit. “I don’t know what your problem is, but if you have something to say, just say it because I don’t deserve how you’re treating me.”

“I don’t have anything to say!” Natasha says, frustratedly at you.

“Then why are you treating me like this!”

“I’m not treating you like anything! If I don’t want to talk to you or don’t want to hang out with you all the time, there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re the one who’s making a big deal out of it.”

The callous words hit you in the gut, and Natasha can tell.

It leaves you breathless.

She starts to call your name, but you cut her off.

“You’re right,” you say, clearing your throat because it feels like it’s closing up.

“My bad. Do whatever you want, Nat.”

You try your best to sound normal as your turn and leave.

Natasha stands alone in the room, more frustrated than before and groans.

She was really fucking this up.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The next week, it’s you who avoids Natasha.

Though, you’re trying to be less obvious about it. You’ll stay and chat in a big group, even if Natasha is there. You don’t run the opposite direction if you see her coming. You merely give her a tight smile and keep walking.

The only painful thing about it is that Natasha doesn’t seem to be making an effort to corner you as you did to her.

It sucks.

It hurts.

“You should just talk to her again,” Steve encourages you. It’s already late at night, and you look pathetic drinking at the bar alone, but you feel as sad as you look.

But you sigh and stand up because Steve is right.

“Wish me luck,” you mumble.

You make your way to Natasha’s room, your nerves out of whack as you try to pep talk yourself that everything is fine.

You’re going to talk to Natasha, it’ll be heartfelt, and you’ll get down to the bottom of whatever it is, apologize, and makeup.

Everything will be fine is what you tell yourself as you stand in front of her door.

You take a deep breath and release heavily before knocking.

There’s giggling on the other side of the room that makes you cock your brow.

You knock more loudly and incessantly.

Then the door swings open and you see Natasha standing there, looking slightly disheveled and breathless.

“What is it?” She asks you like she doesn’t have time for you.

It stings, but you need to push on.

“I just want to talk,” you try to say disarmingly as not to make her defensive.

“It’s not a good time,” Natasha tells you, the door blocking your view from anything else.

“Then make time,” you say non-negotiably.

Natasha is about to say something else, but then there’s another voice in the back.

“Natasha? Who’s there? Hurry and come back! It’s getting pretty cold without your body.”

The annoying giggle in there again.

For a moment, you’re incensed, and you push the door open anyway even though it’s clear Natasha doesn’t want you inside.

You see one of the new agents sitting there, top off but bra still on with wine and cheese on the table.

You turn back to Natasha.

“What the hell is this?”

You may not be dating, but you both know you’re not just friends.

And this feels like a swift betrayal in your stomach. It drops when you see a dark red mark on the new agent’s neck.

Natasha doesn’t say anything, so you turn back to the new agent.

“Leave,” you scowl.

The new agent picks up her shirt, scurrying away while Natasha sighs.

“That was unnecessary,” she says as she straightens out her clothing.

“What you’re doing is unnecessary!” You shoot back at her.

“I don’t understand,” you say softly. “Three weeks ago, everything was fine, and now we’re falling apart, and you don’t even care. What’s changed?”

Natasha shifts uncomfortably.

“We’re friends,” she tells you, and you look confused.

“Yes,” you agree, not sure what Natasha is leading with.

“That’s it,” she tells you, and the realization hits you like a truck.

“Oh my god,” you groan. “You heard Steve and me talking that one time, didn’t you?”

“I came back early,” she tells you, but you know she means that she was eavesdropping.

“Well, we are friends. I told him I like what we have now.” You’re trying to peddle back because it’s obvious this has set Natasha off like you knew it would.

“For now it is,” Natasha agrees, “but you want more. I can’t give you that.”

You sigh.

“Nat, I’m not asking you to give me more. You give me plenty as it is right now.”

“No,” Natasha injects. “I can’t give you anything more. Ever.”

The words make you furrow your brows because yes, you believed that Natasha just needed more time to adjust to being more, to come to terms that she loved you.

“You can’t seriously be telling me you think we’re just friends,” you say to her.

“I don’t know what you want me to say to that.”

“I want you to say anything! Scream! Yell at me! Just something to show you fucking care!” You tell her, putting your hand to your forehead.

“Friends don’t touch like we do, don’t stare at each other like we do, don’t get jealous the way we do.”

“I’ve never been jealous,” Natasha denies, and you scoff with a roll of your eyes.

“Right, so four weeks ago when you beat the shit out of the new agent Darren during training for flirting with me, that was just a coincidence?”

Natasha doesn’t say anything.

It’s so frustrating, her standing there like none of it matters.

Like you don’t matter.

“I’m not asking that we change anything right away, but don’t stand there and lie to yourself that you don’t have feelings for me,” you tell her softly and Natasha bristles.

“You’re being delusional if you think we’re more than friends,” Natasha stands her ground firmly.

You’re not sure why, but it pisses you off.

Because if she thinks you’re just friends, why does she treat you the way she does?

Why does she hold you during movie night, seek you out in the crowds, hold your hand softly, let you in her bed?

Why would she go and show you all the different sides of her?

“You’re delusional if you think we aren’t,” you fire back at her, taking a step towards her.

Natasha stands in one place, but you can tell she’s nervous.

“I love you,” you confess to her. “I’m in love with you, Nat. I have been, for a while now.”

The words make Natasha shut her eyes painfully.

“Don’t,” she warns you, but you press on.

“And I know you’re in love with me too. I’m not saying we have to date, but all I’m asking is that you acknowledge we’re different.”

“Why is this not good enough for you!” Natasha finally blows up. “What we have is so good, can’t you see that? No one has it as good as we do.”

“What we have can be better.”

“There is no better!” Natasha yells at you. “In our line of work, this is as good as it gets. Being in a relationship makes you vulnerable. Enemies knowing our vulnerabilities makes us an easy target. It’s not the same as Clint, where I can just hide you from the rest of the world. We both belong to our responsibilities.”

“Nothing hasn’t even happened yet!”

“And nothing will, because what we have stays as it is, or we have nothing at all.”

Natasha has a finality to her tone, but you don’t accept it.

“You say that as if in this very moment, or even if we try to go back to nothing, that if I die, it won't affect you. It’s too late, Nat, you’re already in love with me! We deserve happiness too.”

“I was happy, why weren’t you?” Natasha asks, almost tiredly.

“I was,” you tell her softly, “but eventually, I can’t keep pretending like I’m okay with being just your friend when I want you in my bed.”

“And what?” Natasha asks you harshly. “Because I can’t give you what you want, you’re going to leave me?”

You shake your head. “I am fine with being just your friend if that’s what you truly felt about me. But you don’t.”

“But that’s what I’m choosing.”

Tears well up in your eyes, a gnawing in your stomach that tells you you’re being foolish.

“You’re a coward,” you tell her, voice raw as it stings in the back of your throat.

“You’re so scared of being happy for once, to get what you truly want because you think you don’t deserve it. Well, newsflash, Nat, you deserve the world and more, and I wish you’d let yourself feel that.”

“I’m not worth it, this far in and I’m already breaking you,” Natasha says with a shake of her head.

She just wants you to concede, so everything can go back to the way it was.

She doesn’t know how to tell you, yes, she is in love with you too. But she can live with only being your friend.

Because she won’t survive if she knows what your lips feel like, how soft your body feels, the way you’d tremble underneath her as she takes you, the way you’d taste, and the way you’d look as she brings you over the edge and it all went away.

Whether you die on a mission, her enemies got to you, or somehow you’d fall out of love with her and leave her.

It was so selfish of her, but she scared of more.

You’re right, she is a coward.

You merely shake your head, tears falling from your eyes and it’s terrible for Natasha to see and be the cause of it.

“This was incredibly stupid,” you say, voice trembling. “I don’t even care that you’re breaking me. I am an absolute fucking moron because I’m always going to love you. But that isn’t enough for you to want more, is it?”

You don’t even wait for Natasha to answer as you walk past her.

“Wait--”

“You’re right, I’m an asshole because I’m not fine with just being your friend. I can’t stand here and pretend with you that everything is alright, that’s I’m not in love with you, and you’re not in love with me, that you’re not deliberately just choosing to ignore everything.” You tell her as you put your hand on the knob.

Natasha panics.

Sirens are going off in her head because she just knows that if you walk out that door, she’s going to lose you forever.

That the two of you will really be nothing, and Natasha realizes that maybe she can’t live with that either.

“If you walk out that door, we’re done.”

Those are the wrong words, and Natasha doesn’t know why it slipped out of her mouth.

But she feels her heart breaking too, and she doesn’t know how to get you to stay.

She can only see your back, but Natasha hears a humorless chuckle as you turn the knob.

“We were already done.”

You leave the room, the door shutting with a soft click.

Perhaps that was as good as it could get, but neither of you realized that it could get worse too.

You pressed your lips together, walking down the empty hallway.

Forever did exist, you think, just not the way you thought it would.

#mm: my fics #natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x ofc #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanov imagine #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #Avengers #avengers imagine #Avengers AU #avengers reader insert #Modern Avengers AU #MCU #genre: angst #prompt request

901 notes · View notes

aharris00britney · 4 years

Photo

ASKS 19

It’s 6am and Brandon woke me up when he got up to go to work so now... i answer asks bc i cant sleep.

@mileyzangel said: Can you please make a Harley Quinn hairstyle from both Suicide Squad and Birds of Prey?

I went and watched Birds of Prey the other night and it was really good. Brandon went to sleep I think tfgvhb. But I doubt I’ll try doing her hair from either of the films. @enriques4 is working on one for her Birds of Prey look if you are interested in that <3

Anonymous said: is tiny living worth it? im leaning towards the gameplay although i love cas. is the gameplay as bad as people say?

I honestly don’t think the new beds do anything. They’re... there. Lmao I think the CAS and buy items are very nice. If we get some cc murphy beds then that would make them a lot more usable tbh.

Anonymous said: how do you and ayoshi keep making some fantastic collabs?? y'all are literally the first people i go to when I make a fresh install and I can't wait to see what you do next

Anonymous said: AxA CC KINGS!!!

Anonymous said: you guys didnt have to snap like that on AxA

Anonymous said: I LOVE EVERY SINGLE PACK U AND AYOSHI DO PLEASE KEEP MAKING MORE

Anonymous said: another iconic ah00b x ayoshi collab YAS LESSGOOOO

We put a bunch of cc ideas (hair and clothes) in a discord server we have together and then work on the stuff together on call usually so each item is the way we both want me. Like for example i’ll be meshing the Ivy top while he works on texturing the ribbed version. We also only do collabs when they happen, we didn’t plan AxA 2019 or this new set, mainly just made cc starting in May and wrapped it up in July to release in August. Then this time we started making stuff late December and got most of it done by the time I got done with my break. Having a planned collab/deadline makes stuff less stressful and the stuff usually turns out better imo

Anonymous said: hi! ur sims are so prettyyyy what skin texture and eyes do u use?

Anonymous said: hi! wcif the eyes of the sim in the edit that Dogsill edited for you please? thank you!

Anonymous said: Hi! I really love the way your sims looks so, I was what skin and eyes you use?

I actually am changing my default eyes so I need to update my resource page soon ;n; but the skins they use are all listed for each sim on the resource page here

Anonymous said: you always name axa packs by the year but this one was named after a season those that mean.... 👀

We are wanting to do something in the fall, just not sure how our lives will be then ya know? There’s a chance that this will be the AxA 2020. Since we weren’t sure I didn’t want to label it that if 2 AxA’s release this year lmao

Anonymous said: what game is the pokemon thing you're playing!? pls help a guy out i'm in love with the art style

Pokemon Sword and Shield (I have shield) for Nintendo Switch. I’ll prob post more pics once I get some new shinies :P

@kristabunny said: lol is it bad that when I saw your Santana hair I read it as Satan Hair XD

tbhhhhh it was lowkey referencing that lmao. I made the hair in October for a speed meshing video and since it was around Halloween I was like “lemme give her an almost demonic name” also Santana from glee is a queen

Anonymous said: Tbh I absolutely adore your female cc but I LIVE for your male cc!!!

Thank you! lmao the only thing I can take full credit for is the AxA male hairs. I mesh the clothes for packs but ayoshi does the texturing for them.

Anonymous said: Could you have a go at the updo Dua Lipa has on the cover of her Future Nostalgia? The high bun with a flick in it and the strands of hair down the sides. Thanks if so :)

I’m not the biggest fan of the hairstyle tbh ;n; but we will see. (Physical is a serve, just saying)

Anonymous said: So ive never played pokemon before until my friend gave me a copy of pokemon moon. I love cats so of course my starter was a litten, but i had no clue about evolutions or anything like that. I was heartbroken when my cute litten turned into some big man cat :(

omg noooo ;n; yeah Litten is a cutie... incineroar is... well I got used to him tbh and kind of like him now? I absolutely hate scorbunny’s evolution (and most of the SWSH starters final evolution) so I think that made incineroar slightly better in my eyes. My shiny litten will be staying a kitten however :)

@multifandom-slytherin said: Hello! I love your cc! Would it be possible for you to make the bangs from your Bree Hair a separate accessory that you can put with other hairs (for example the BG low ponytail)? Thank you so much!

Anonymous said: have u considered making or allowing someone to make an acc version of your handmade bangs?

I have thought of doing accessory bangs tbh, I just like... don’t like using accessory bangs myself. So I’m not sure if I’ll end up doing it. I might try it for myself and see how many hairs they work with, and if it is a decent amount I’ll release.

Anonymous said: First off I want to say how amazing all of your hairs and collabs are! Second I was curious if you ever thought of going back to your old hairs and updating their thumbnails / display indexes so they matched your stuff now?

I really really wanted to have all my 2019 hairs updated by 2020. It was only January 2019-April 2019 that needed updated (thumbnails and display indexes). But I just lost motivation for doing it. I will focus on it next time I have a big break from school. Also planning on updating select stuff from 2018 and 2017.

Anonymous said: please put Sophia Barker in the gallery. PLEASEEEEE it's the most beautiful sim I EVER seen! >:3 PLEASEEE!!!!!!!!!!

She should be on there? I think? Make sure you have CC enabled and if you can’t find me through the gallery her tray files are here

Anonymous said: Hi! After the recent patch I started having a small issue with Bree hair(without bangs), when I zoom out it looks like a completely different hair, something similar to that one basegame hair that's layered with tips pointed outward but longer. Thought I'd let you know, maybe others have had a similar issue or maybe I need to change a setting or something. Love your work so much!

Really surprised this is the first time someone told me about this lmao. The hair should be updated now on SFS/Patreon <3

Anonymous said: I tried to look around for this on your "Asks" portion before bothering you (so sorry), but do you have a link perhaps for all the lips you use on your models? Are they in game or a cc you create? Thanks so much! Love all of your work! I'm super new to cc stuff and I found yours like 2 days ago and have been going nuts with downloads lol

like presets? None of my cc models use a lip preset. I do use this slider on some of them though. For lipsticks, that is listed for each model on my resource page <3

Anonymous said: i’ve been looking for a hair like lexi that i actually like forever and now i find it but it’s for paterson peeps and i’m like actually broke and i’m like :/

im sorry ;n; at least it wasn’t too long of a wait? :/ I hope you liked the hair

Anonymous said: I can't find your jisoo ponytails in your downloads?

they’re in my retired section... may they rest in peace. scroll to the bottom of my downloads and youll see ‘RETIRED.’ click that for the retired download page.

@eclypt-0-sims said: Hi, I recently started making MM hair and I know you're probably an expert at this but; every time I go into CAS to test a hair, all of my accessories clip with the hair. Like the hair texture would cover some glasses if my sim was wearing glasses. I don't know how to fix it, someone told me to delete an eye weight in blender but I don't really understand weight painting that much, any suggestions? love your content btw

this is a late as hell reply i’m sorry. I think that you have texture where the glasses texture would be. Hair texture should only be in hair section or hat section (if you don’t want it hat compatible). Here is a UV map layout that I use for making hair textures. It shouldnt have anything to do with weights

Anonymous said: Do you use reshade when you take previews for your cc? and also is the tropical punch ombre overlay a palette or did you make it?

I do use reshade when I take cc previews. It adds a bit of saturation to my sims and gives them some shadows under their chin/clothes. Nothing major. Also, myself and @imvikai came up with the tropical punch palette together.

@little-eris said: You probably have answered this before but who drew your tumblr icon? I’ve seen the same art style with other simmers 👉🏼👈🏼 it’s super cute!

thank you! here is their twitter

Anonymous said: The male sim in your Tiny Living review looks soo familiar; was there inspiration from anyone IRL? The person he reminds me of isn't even famous so I don't even know! He is very pretty though *-*

He was a gallery sim that I just revamped a bit so I’m honestly not super sure lmao. But he is very attractive yes I agree

that concludes this ask ceremony please collect your things and move to the exit to your left. fvghbjn if you sent something I didn’t answer and it was off anon I’ll get to you soon (person who asked what beards I used for AxA... I see you)

#asks #not me spending an hour doing this #im actually kinda tired now but do i sleep #or do i just stay up... i have class at 12 #it is 7am now

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leaa-drws · 5 years

Text

6am mornings [Calum Hood One shot]

This is for @bringmethehorizonandpizza ‘s birthday writing challenge (happy birthday, Anne🎉) and I had the prompt “I know what I am doing ok?” / “You’re holding the knife wrong”. I hope you like it.

~7,1k words

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

She stepped into the corridor, silently closing the bedroom door behind her.

A look on her battered iPhone display showed her that it was 6:03 am.

She had another three to four hours all to herself whilst Drew was sleeping.

Another three to four hours she could use to whip up breakfast in Drews awesome kitchen and another three to four hours to curl up in the huge armchair, her book on her crooked knees with her hands gripping the pages at the enthralling parts and her fingers caressing the paper at the romantic ones.

She loved those mornings at Drews before he woke up.

Loved the calm, loved to see the world awake beneath her, outside of the windowfront whenever her gaze wandered away from the fantasy world her stories held and towards the real one.

If she would have to be completely honest or if someone asked her, she would have to admit that she loved her early mornings with tea and breakfast in the armchair a lot more than the nights spent with Drew or for that matter with anyone.

But no one ever asked, and she wasn’t about to go there willingly, so she didn’t know that yet.

And she didn’t know this was about to change.

Her thoughts shifted away from her anticipation for her peace filled morning hours when she heard quiet piano music coming from the open kitchen and living area.

The soothing tunes got louder with every step she took.

For a second, she considered if they left the music on last night, but this sounded like classical music, maybe Bach and she knew she Drew wouldn’t listen to classical music if his life depended on it.

He’d think it was “pussy-shit” and a man did not listen to “pussy-shit”.

She also considered walking back to the guestroom and wait till Drew was awake, but since she was allowed to be here as she was Drew’s friend and since she knew he had a roommate she hadn’t met yet; she didn’t worry too much about it.

Thoughts turning back towards her breakfast and the book she had spotted on the coffee table; she made her way into the main part of the apartment.

And froze right away.

She had considered the music and the roommate being in the apartment.

What she hadn’t considered was the fact that she wore nothing more than panties, really short-short pajama shorts and an oversized band shirt that made it look as though she only wore the shirt.

What she also did not consider was that her friend’s roommate was a man.

A tall, broad-shouldered, confidence radiating man.

A very tall man because Daisy was tall for a woman at five feet nine and he still seemed like a giant to her.

A man she knew instantly did not think listening to Bach first thing in the morning or at all was “pussy-shit”.

She knew because he was currently listening to Bach and because he was making breakfast to those tunes in the kick-ass kitchen of Drews kick-ass apartment and because this man had no reason to be worried about anything he was doing being “pussy-shit” since he could have stood there in a tutu and he would still be all male.

A man she instantly knew was special.

She hadn’t even seen his face yet, his back was turned towards her, but she knew with the way he stood and the way his shoulders were drawn back instead of slouching it didn’t matter, he was going to be breathtaking.

She knew because she had stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of him, and she knew because sometimes you just know.

Her shoulder leaned against the wall now, her legs slightly crossed, her eyes focused on the stranger that stole her cozy morning and that she couldn’t be angry at for doing so because now she got to look at him instead of her novel.

Got to see his dark hair curl slightly against the line where his hair met his neck, the dark tattoos embellishing his arms, the rings on his fingers as he dragged his hand through the curls as he read something in a cookbook.

She knew the book. It was a Nigel Slater, one that used to be her staple before she could cook all the recipes from the top of her head.

The broad back turned towards the sink to his left, the sink led his eyes to the doorway, the doorway was hard to look at with her leaning in it, so his eyes settled on her.

And she saw his face.

And she knew he would be breathtaking before, but now that she saw him, she also knew she needed a bigger, better word than breathtaking because that didn’t even begin to cover it.

She saw his face, saw how his dark eyes roamed her body, wandered from her head to her feet, then from her naked toes to her blue eyes. Her body tingled in all kinds of places and the temperature in the room seemed to have risen by a thousand degrees in those few, long moments the attractive stranger took her in.

Suddenly she was very aware of her lack of clothing as her nipples strained against the soft material of her shirt.

His brows furrowed, and she’d never seen brows furrowing look so good.

Then he spoke.

And his voice was steel and not the good kind.

“You leavin?”

She just stared.

“Woman asked a question. You on your way out?”

She continued staring. Even steel and not the hot but the angry type his voice was beautiful. A rough, deep, male kind of beautiful but nonetheless beautiful. Yeah, breath-taking doesn’t cover it.

“You deaf or mute?”

“What?” Now her brain processed more than just the beauty of the sounds leaving his mouth. “No, why?”

“Asked you a question two times, didn’t answer. Now, you on your way out?”

“Um,” She looked down at her getup. Was she looking like she was leaving? “No, I’m not.”

“Didn’t think so. You should though. The lazy son of a bitch ’ll sleep for a long while longer and you’ll spare yourself the trouble of getting kicked out later if ya leave now.”

Then she realized.

He didn’t know of her or of her being with Drew, so he thought she was a one night stand.

Drew apparently had lots of those.

But that didn’t mean she was one.

Or even the type for one with Drew.

It irritated her that he took her for a one night stand and that he just tried to throw her out and she was allowed to be little pissed to be thrown out when she wanted her cozy morning with tea, romance novel, and breakfast.

“Hi, nice to meet you”, she smiled just a tad too sweetly.

She stretched her hand out and met Drews roommates’ eyes with hers, “I’m Daisy, a friend of Drews.”

The man raised one eyebrow.

“I’m just staying in the guestroom until I find my own place. Drew was friendly enough to let me.”, Daisy further explained.

She saw his eyes widen slightly.

Yeah, you made a mistake there, big guy, she thought.

“Sure, you’re only staying in the guestroom. How long’s that gonna last, hm?”, she heard him mumble under his breath.

Daisy’s Jaw clenched and she couldn’t stop herself from glaring at the rude stranger.

She wasn’t about to be here, tired from a sleepless night, being treated like dirt by her acquaintances annoying roommate that stole her perfect morning and let herself be talked to as though she was a one night stand of Drews, who (no offense) really did not have the best taste from what she’d seen.

Glaring at him, she took a deep breath to calm herself and delivered, “That’s gonna last till I got my own place and then I am going to move into the apartment I found.”, in her cool and collected fuck-off voice.

Her gaze not leaving his eyes, she could have imagined it, but for a second, she saw understanding fill them as he stared.

And continued staring.

Her hand had remained stretched out and it was getting awkward, so she drew it back. It had almost reached her side again when big broad man’s hand shot out and grabbed it.

“Calum.” Shell shocked, because of the firm grip of his hand on hers, his name took a minute to register in his mind.

Big, broad-shouldered, hot, maybe asshole roommates were without a doubt named Calum. Her lips tipped up slightly.

Yeah.

Calum fit.

“Calum.”, she said.

“Yeah, Calum’s the name.” Daisy just looked at him.

From this close, she could say he was without a doubt beautiful.

Even more so when his Face grew soft as she didn’t let his hand go when theirs were done shaking.

“Need to continue cookin, Babe.”, his voice was not made of steel anymore.

It was still gruff, that was just his voice, but now it had a soft note to it.

At the raspy sound, Daisy wondered how it would sound when he woke up and the day began with his voice rumbling in her ear.

Yeah, her nipples were definitely straining now.

Although he was a douche. The female body could be a traitor. Also, did he just call her Babe?

Daisy lost his hand when he let her go and turned around to continue cooking.

Daisy didn’t know this man, she thought he was a bit of an ass, but she knew she weirdly didn’t like losing his hand.

And she did not like not liking losing it, but she couldn’t dwell on that because Calum took a knife and started cutting up a red bell pepper.

And he did so fast, meaning the knife moved and the pepper would have been done and cut in seconds.

“Would have been”, only because Daisy shrieked, stepped forward and Calum stilled.

Taking her shrieking for the worrying it was Calum looked at her and shared; “’ Know what I am doing, ok?”

Daisy knew to anyone else it would have looked as though he knew what he was doing, but as she was the new chef at the NoMad, an expensive restaurant in the expensive New York she was living in, it didn’t look as though he knew as what he was doing at all.

He caught her off balance before, but as she felt comfortable with the topic of cooking and she did not feel comfortable with him nearly cutting his fingers off, it was her time to share.

“You’re holding the knife wrong.” Then she realized she just told a huge broad-shouldered, muscular, breathtaking man he did something wrong and even feeling comfortable with the topic of cooking and not feeling comfortable with him nearly cutting his fingers off, she didn’t know how he would react to that, so she turned silent instead of showing him.

“You know cooking?”, again, his voice wasn’t angry.

And it not being angry, it was still a rough, deep, male kind of beautiful but now it was also melodic.

Drew would have been all kinds of angry.

Taking advice from a woman was another thing considered “pussy-shit”.

But Drew also wouldn’t stand in the kitchen at some time after six am cooking up breakfast and listening to Bach.

He may work at the bar the NoMad had, but his specialty to any intake of substance started with bourbon and ended with tequila.

“I cook at a restaurant. That’s the only way I could tell you were holding the knife and the pepper dangerously wrong.”, she whispered, liking that he was not angry but still intimidated.

“So, you know cookin.” That was a statement, not a question, so Daisy stayed quiet. Which was good because Calum was not finished talking.

“Never had the chance of learning, tryin to catch up at the moment. Guess I only thought I knew what I was doing.”, he sounded slightly awkward, drew his hand through his dark hair, but appearing like a boy that was caught lying only made him more attractive.

He didn’t have a problem admitting he made a mistake; he wasn’t threatened by it as the other guys' Daisy knew.

This didn’t exactly make him less attractive especially since his douche-quality just went down by about 99%. Assholes didn’t admit to mistakes, that was a safe bet.

“You know what you’re doing? Show me.” That was part question and all demand.

Daisy had never been especially good at following demands. She liked to do her own thing and she liked giving the orders when she knew what she was doing.

That’s why she had kept working until she was the chef at the rooster and now at the NoMad. She wanted to be the one in charge.

She did not want to be in charge with the man standing in front of her right now, his hips leaned to the counter, knife in one hand, the other hand loosely resting on the counter.

She liked the way he did not ask her to help him.

He wanted her to, thus he told her to.

The thought of how other demands in other settings would sound made her breath hitch in her throat.

No, she didn’t want to be in charge with Calum at all.

“Don’t have all day, woman.”

“On it.” Daisy squeezed out, trying to shake her thoughts, but it came out breathy anyways.

Calum only raised one eyebrow and after a couple of seconds of him leaned against the counter and her leaned against the door she realized that she still had to move, show him how to hold the knife and most importantly stop staring at him.

So, she averted her eyes, walked over to the knife block, got her favorite one of Drews far too expensive knives and then waited for her friend’s roommate to move away from the cutting board so she could dice the bell pepper.

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

“Morning sugar.”

Eyes leaving the words printed into the ivory paper, mind leaving the storyline of the romantic hero saving his woman from herself, Daisy let her gaze wander to the sun shining through the window front starting a few centimeters from her naked toes.

She let herself consciously enjoy the warming caress where the sun rays touched her skin or warmed the blanket she cuddled into this morning after Calum left because of some phone call.

Her book laid on her knees and her fingers were gripping the pages. The chamomile tea stood cold and forgotten on a coffee table beside her, the plate that used to hold the omelet Calum and Daisy made that morning empty beside it.

At the sight of the empty plate, she had to suppress a smile.

It had been a weird morning, cooking with him in the kitchen, but that didn’t mean that it hasn’t felt weirdly good, when he took over the organization of who did what after she showed him how to use the knuckles to avoid the endangering the fingers and how to hold the knife to cut fast but safely.

It also didn’t mean that it wasn’t nice when he grinned at something she said.

She bet he had an out-of-this-world laugh since just his chuckle was enough to let her feel a draw in her lower stomach, but sadly she hadn’t heard it yet. Daisy would stay at Drews for a while longer until she found an apartment, so she would see Calum again eventually and she found herself hoping it would be rather sooner than later, and with her giggling and him chuckling or (fingers-crossed) even laughing.

It was something different to hear him chuckle in his low, deep voice.

She had told the story about how she got into cooking because she and her mother ones made a Vitamix explode in her kitchen and they had a blast even though the concoction tasted awful, and then rambled about her dad who was so good at cooking, that his food literally tasted like the love he had for his family and about how she wanted to be able to offer all this to her family one day because she thought that home cooked food took personal time and effort and was still necessary, therefore it was the perfect everyday I-love-you gift.

He chuckled after her Vitamix story and his face grew soft when she talked about the meaning good food held for her.

She liked it when his face got soft, she liked it a lot more than the stressed look on his face when she came into the kitchen the first time.

Normally she wouldn’t have told that much on a first meeting, and normally she would have felt uncomfortable talking about future family, but Calum had inquired, had asked question after question until she simply shared.

And even though she had realized that Calum hadn’t shared all that much with her actually far, far less, she still felt safe with him and he seemed genuinely interested in every single word that left her mouth.

That feeling being one that she had been missing for a long time.

Banning the roughly beautiful not-so-strange-anymore Stranger from her mind, she finally answered Drews greeting.

“Morning Drew. Coffees ready, although you might need to reheat it.”, she threw over her shoulder.

He would definitely have to heat it again, she got lost in the heroine’s world about two to three hours ago and even in Drews expensive Coffee-machine-cup-thingy coffee got cold after that amount of time.

“You slept well?”

“All good.” This was not the truth. Actually, it was a bold lie. She dreamt of him and woke up a total of six times that night. A full night’s sleep wasn’t in for her at the moment, but Drew had done enough for her already.

“Are you sure? So soon after breaking up with – “, She couldn’t bear hearing it.

She couldn’t bear listening to this and being reminded of him every time someone as far as dropping his name.

She couldn’t bear it, especially not after she’d had a good morning and had thought about chuckles from a beautiful, broad-shouldered, dark-haired and even darker eyed man just seconds ago.

She couldn’t bear it, so she didn’t.

“I’m sure. He is half the world away, I’m here and I’m actually pretty happy to be here instead of with him and it wouldn’t have worked out anyways. Long distance relationships never do.”

She talked fast.

Maybe too fast but she feared if she took a breather, she wouldn’t be able to keep the emotions locked up.

“Whatever you say. Just know in case you wanna talk about it you can.” Drews answer was perfect, just the one you should want to hear from a friend in that situation, but Daisy didn’t want to share.

It hurt too much, and she didn’t want the wound to open, didn’t want to feel her heart ripped open again.

She didn’t share that either.

She just kept it in, clenched her hands into fists, her fingernails biting into her palm, then shocked from her own behavior released the tight grip that had nothing to hold onto but her own flesh and started to quickly twiddle her thumbs to keep her hands occupied.

She wasn’t going there.

She didn’t need it. It had been Years since the last time even something like this had happened and she wasn’t going to let anything in that form happen again.

Suddenly happy to be shielded from the kitchen area with the huge armchair, she took a deep breath.

Then; “I appreciate it, Drew. I really do.”

It came out better than she would have imagined. But she sure as hell wouldn’t keep on talking about him, so still talking to the backrest of her safe haven she simply changed the topic and soon Drew was talking about the bar and his latest conquests and Daisy was happy not to have shared anything too personal with him.

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

The next few weeks Calum was home quite regularly.

Daisy didn’t see much of him during the day, or at night, but she could almost count on a daily morning breakfast with her giving him a cooking lesson and him getting to know her.

She learned to love the mornings spent with him a lot more than the ones before.

Actually, the mornings with Cal in the kitchen, making jokes, cooking and baking slowly but surely became the highlights of her days and the thing she looked forward too.

Even more so after the third morning, when Calum decided to let Daisy get to know him, share his story and the details of his life and Daisy learned more and more about him.

She learned about his siblings, about his deep love for his parents, about the stress his job brought and about the fact, that it was, in fact, Calums apartment instead of Drews and all the fancy stuff was his.

This was also the reason he was pissed off when he first saw her because the last time, he caught one of Drews one-nightstands the girl puked over the brand-new couch and someone had spilled vodka all over the apartment at the party the night before.

And it was one of the reason he wasn’t happy with Drew at the moment.

He asked for the reason of her very sudden move to New York a few times, but Daisy just didn’t feel comfortable sharing, and he let her have that piece of privacy and didn’t push.

The more Daisy got to know him, the more she liked Calum Hood.

He remembered that she drank chamomile tea in the morning, so most mornings there was one waiting on the counter for her and the other ones the water was cooking and the teabag already in the cup that had become hers.

He was also a quick learner, always asked questions when they were cooking, and he wanted to know why she did something a certain way.

He knew that whilst she started loving the mornings with him, she also enjoyed her reading time, so after she’d mentioned that this was what she’d usually done before he took up the first hours of her day, he made sure that they made breakfast but that there was enough time for her to forget her chamomile refill on the coffee table and get lost in a book whilst he either went to work, sat on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, or, more often than not, watching Daisies reactions to the words on the table, her blushing, her fingers trailing the paper, her biting her lip.

The more Daisy got to know him, the more she liked Calum Hood, and the more Calum Hood got to know Daisy, the more he liked her.

Liked the smile touching his lips in the morning, when he heard her feet touch the floor of the corridor, the way she didn’t care how she looked with part of her dark blond hair in a messy bun, the other strands hanging around her face and over her shoulders, the way she pulled off those huge shirts she wore to bed, the ones that made it look like she didn’t wear anything under them at all.

He liked the way she stood up for herself when they had different opinions and the way she talked about her job with fire in her eyes and her family with more love and affection than he thought possible.

And he liked the way she had started to look at him a couple of mornings before, the way with her eyes soft and no guard in sight.

He liked the way he found her yesterday when she was up before him and was dancing through the kitchen preparing pancakes, her chamomile tea next to his ready to be drunken coffee on the counter and he stood in the doorway shell-shocked for a few moments, having to keep himself from moving across the room, and get his hands on her hips, to feel her movement against his body.

Just in the second he thought that he’d just do it, then kiss her and then hopefully start the morning right with her under him and the beverages forgotten, she turned to him, smiled when her gaze caressed his face and exclaimed - “I’m making my world-famous pancakes” - far too loudly because of the air pods filling her ears with music.

At that Calum had to grin, but the urge to kiss her didn’t subside.

And didn’t leave his head the entire day.

He’d wanted to kiss Daisy for a while.

Actually, he’d wanted to feel her soft lips under his since the first time he saw her standing in that doorway. And that want constantly grew.

It grew when he saw her eyes widen every time when he nicknames her “Daise”, just like the first time, and it grew every time “Cal” rolled of her tongue in her soft voice and slight English accent.

It had grown for a while, Cal had waited for it to go away, but since the feelings didn’t subside Calum had enough.

He’d always been a guy to go after what he wants, especially when he knew he would want it for a long time to come and the way Daisy made him laugh despite shit going down with one of the clients let him know that the need for her company wouldn’t go away for a good long while.

Calum was also done with being alone.

He’d been single for a long time, had never been searching for someone, always too busy for a relationship. Now it felt like he could make anything work, just because of the mornings spent talking over French toast or omelet.

Yeah, Calum was sure about what he wanted, and Daisy was just that.

So, this morning, when she tiredly toddled into the living area and took her usual place of leaning in the doorway to watch him for a couple of minutes, a habit she had picked up, he strut towards her, stopping just a few inches far and laid his hands on her hips, gripping them ever so slightly.

Daisy looked at his serious expression and then down onto his hands cupping her.

On countless occasions she’d realized how big his hands were and asked herself how they would feel staying on her skin for longer than a couple of seconds, when he carefully moved her out of his way when they were cooking or that one time when he took a strand of her hair and brushed it behind her ear.

Feeling them on her now only made her yearn for more of their touch, it felt as though they were burning through the thin shirt she wore, imprinting her skin and marking her in the best way possible.

Her eyes wandered back up to his eyes, they still held their serious expression.

“Is everything alright?” Her voice sounded off and came out as a whispered breath.

“I wanna try something new.”

“Kay Cal, we could do a babka, today or some cardamom knots, if you have the time for the yeast dough to rise and if you feel like something sweet?” Daisy said carefully, still sleepy, knowing something was off or at least different but not being able to put her finger on it.

What she did know was that she liked whatever it was because it got his hands on her hips and their face so close, she could see the little golden speckles in his brown eyes.

“Not talkin ‘bout food, Daise” His voice sounded quiet, almost tender.

Still gruff and like early-morning-Calum but there was a note to it that made it gentle and feel like a caress.

She’d heard this tone only few times, when she had told the story about the passing of her dog that made Calums face go soft and his eyes a turn into a liquid amber, or when he talked to his sister or parents on the phone when they took their place at the window front, bellies filled with deliciousness and cups on the table in front of them.

Daisy liked that tone.

She liked it a lot when he talked to his family because she could understand the love, he held for them as she held them for her own and she liked it even more when he used it on her.

And now that he’d let his nickname for her roll off his tongue in this hue of his voice, she liked it a whole lot more.

“But ‘m feeling like something sweet.”

“Ok.” Calum stayed silent and seemed deep in thought, his eyes fixed on his hands on her hips. When it became clear, that there would be no answer Daisy continued, “I think I can’t quite follow, honey.”

At that, Calum looked up, met her eyes for a second and then let his gaze wander to her lips.

He trailed back to her eyes, then when his eyes jumped to her lips, his hands drew her near and her front met his chest and her hips his crotch.

Forced to tilt her head back to be able to look at him she wants to ask what was going on, if he was alright but when she met his gaze, she forgot everything she meant to say.

His eyes were pure bourbon tinted fire.

Slowly one of his hands trailed up her back and Daisy wished nothing more in that moment than for the shirt to be gone and for him to touch her actual skin.

His fingers came to a rest at the base of her neck, fingers gripping her and tilting her head a little farther back whilst also drawing her lightly higher.

Daisies heels left the wooden floor.

Both of them were breathing heavily, both of them thinking nothing and everything at the same time, both of them not in the living room of Cals Apartment anymore, with Drew in the other room, but in a beautiful place made just for the two of them.

Cal searched for something in the depth of Daisy’s light blue eyes and whatever he found seemed to be exactly what he was looking for because in the next moment his grip on the nape of her neck tightened and he drew her towards his head, bending down slightly to meet her in the middle.

Their lips crashed.

Daisies hands clawed into Cals shirt, drawing him closer, Calums hand moving from her neck higher into the mess of her morning hair, fingers gripping, arms trying to draw each other closer until there was no space to be filled anymore.

Calums tongue trailed Daisy’s bottom lip and sighing happily she obliged the unspoken demand and opened her mouth. He slipped inside and tasted chamomile tea as well as something different, something even better, something all Daisy.

The tingles she had felt multiplied by the millions and Daisy felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the hot beverage filling her stomach.

Opening up even further her leg wrapped around his hip, achieving the impossible by getting them even closer together.

Cal's hand left her hair and both of them gripped her behind, lifting slightly when he tore his mouth from hers, growling a short “Jump.” at her.

Then his mouth was back on hers and without thinking twice about it Daisy leaped into his arms, closing her legs around his hips and wrapping her arms around his neck, one burrowed in his dark curls gripping whatever it found, tagging on it to somehow get even more of him.

No, Daisy was right the first time she saw him.

She didn’t mind his demands at all.

Suddenly they were moving, Calum stalking through the room, his mouth never leaving hers, his hands squeezing her ass.

Daisy didn’t even realize they had switched place until she was sat on the cool kitchen counter, a burning sensation against her hot skin, Calum between her spread legs, his crotch pressing against her middle.

Desperately Daisy tugged on him, trying to get him even closer and moved against the bulge in his jeans. She ached and she wanted, no needed more.

“Fuck. Daise.” Calum groaned, hands tightening on her hips almost to the point of pain.

At the sensation of the sweet sting of pleasure, Daisy moaned against his mouth.

“Please. Cal.” Left her mouth.

Then; “More.”, when Calum circled his hips against her center.

She was only able to communicate in one-word sentences at this point and he hadn’t even truly touched her yet.

Her hands wandered to his rear, frantically up and under his shirt, exploring his stomach and chest, trying to touch all of him at ones. Then she tugged on it, pulled her mouth from Calums and breathlessly demanded; “Off”.

That seemed to have the opposite effect Daisy wanted, because instead of giving her enough room to take it off or taking it off himself, his right hand wandered towards her neck ones more, the cold rings on his long fingers an almost shockingly chilly bite that left her body shivering.

“Demanding little thing.”, he scolded.

“Please.”, she couldn’t help but return. She needed his touch.

She’d dreamt of this often the past weeks, she yearned for all of it, wanted every part of her desires to come true.

Unhurried he shook his head.

Then his forehead touched hers, lips separated by mere millimeters.

For a few long seconds, they just tried to catch their breath, one inhaling what the other exhaled, eyes not leaving each other.

Slowly a smile stretched over Cal's face.

It was astonishing to see it from up close, how his dimples formed and how his eyes got thinner, almost as though they were retreating because the happiness filled too much room on his face.

“That,” He gave her a quick sweet peck, “didn’t” another kiss, “go” and again “quite”, he touched his lips to hers ones more, “like” and ones more, “planed”.

He brushed his mouth against hers one last time.

They both had sparkling and slightly glazed eyes, both far from down from the high of their touch.

“What was the plan?”, Daisy asked, only slightly worried by his words, as there was little that could break through the Calum-induced-daze she was in.

“Not to almost lose control and get dangerously near to fucking you on the kitchen counter, when I wanted to take this slow.”

At that Daisy stayed silent, her worry completely gone, then eyes wide, pushed him away slightly and blurted: “You can’t just say throw things like sex on the kitchen counter around like that when just your kiss gets me in this, this situation. That’s mean. Also, what if I wanted sex on the counter with you?”

Then realizing what her brainless mouth had just exclaimed she tried to avert her eyes and failed miserably when Calums hand touched her chin and gently tilted it in his direction.

“Eyes, Daise.”, almost against her own will her eyes went back to his, “You wanna have sex on the kitchen counter with me right now?”

“Don’t get cocky, you were the one talking about losing control.”, she tried to save herself, not sure where they stood, not feeling secure enough to give him the knowledge that she would take anything and everything he wanted to give in that moment.

“I was.”, he replied calmly, “and I would love to fuck you right now.”

Daisies breath hitched.

“But we’re not gonna do that.”

She couldn’t help it. She sighed in disappointment and her eyes dropped to her fingers still clenched in the soft fabric of his favorite shirt of hers.

“Well, not yet,” Calum whispered.

“Soon?”

“When the time’s right.”

Silence filled the apartment. The sun painted delicate patterns of light and shadow all over the the kitchen.

“Take what slow?”, Daisy asked quietly, hoping for the answer she yearned for with Calum. The answer of them together.

“Us.” He simply stated.

Daisy nodded; her smiling eyes still trained firmly on his attire.

The red and white “did you get the sensation today?”-shirt made her eyes widen and her body tingle every time she saw it cladding Calums body.

A slight giggle escaped her.

At Calums raised eyebrow she explained, still smiling; “I got the sensation today.”

Calum looked at her dumbstruck for a few long moments and then burst out in laughter.

It was a beautiful sound.

Her hands clutching him and his body near her, Daisy felt the shaking of his body against hers and saw his mouth moving and his eyes dancing from up close.

She’d been right again the first time.

His laugh was out of this world.

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

It was after they made and ate their breakfast, Daisy on Calums lap, feeding each other.

It was after Daisy got lost in her current book and after Calum watched her do so whilst he had his Sunday phone call with his sister.

It was after Calum got called away to some celebrity-client drama and after Daisy went to work and finished her shift at the NoMad.

It was when Daisy came home, took off her minimal makeup and switched her food reeking work clothes to her usual bed attire. It was when she slipped under the covers of the guestroom bed that she realized, that she hadn’t thought about Jasper all day.

And that she hadn’t thought that much about him the past week either.

She also realized that thinking his name did not hurt that much anymore.

It was a dull ache, one that could be completely forgotten at times and one that was a simple reminder of something that had happened but that had no power over her anymore.

When this struck her lips tilted upwards and a small smile took over her face.

Not huge, not ecstatic, but simply content. The silent kind of happiness that let her know that it was here to stay and not a momentary burst of strength.

She was over him. It had taken a few months, but she was finally over him.

She could only hope she didn’t fall right into the next trap.

But somehow she knew she didn’t.

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

When she woke the next morning and saw the sun shining through her window, she did so with a smile. She’d slept through the whole night.

She hadn’t woken up once.

And it was her day off. So she wouldn’t be tired the entire day and could actually do something.

Then she realized she was feeling a lot warmer than usual.

She also realized something heavy laid upon her and a rich, dark smell filled the room.

It smelt like Calum.

Averting her eyes from the sun shining through the window she looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was well past 9 am. Normally she was up by 6am, 6:30 at the latest.

The smile did not leave her face then.

Nor did it when she looked down and saw Calum’s one hand claiming one of her breasts, holding it in a loose grip whilst his other hand was splayed across her stomach.

He held her close.

No, the smile didn’t falter even one bit.

His warm body was pressed into her back, his nose buried in her hair and his broad shoulder shielding her from the world behind the door across the room.

She should be freaked.

She should feel scared or angry that he slept in her bed. Just because they made out yesterday it didn’t mean that he could sleep in her bed, touching her.

Especially not if they hadn’t talked about it and he just slipped in whilst she was already gone, dreaming of him.

But if she was honest, she wasn’t freaked, scared or angry.

If she was honest, she felt the safest she had in a while, she had slept the best she had in a while and once you go a while without any good sleep, you know how much a full night of it is worth.

So she decided against freaking out and leaving the bed and instead snuggled deeper into Calum and inhaled deeply, wanting to save every part of the moment as a beautiful memory.

She wanted to remember the curtains swaying slightly in the wind coming through the slightly opened window, the noise of New York outside of the small retreat she and Calum were in, she wanted to remember the aroma of his dark scent mixed with her lighter one, she wanted to remember his warmth enclosing her, his hands on her body, the feeling of their legs intertwined.

When she curled up against him and her body lost its tension and relaxed against Calum, she heard him mumble a quiet “Good choice Daise.”, into her hair, whilst tightening his grip on her, drawing her closer and slightly squeezing her breast.

“Don’t you need to get to work?”, Daisy whispered, fearing the answer to be his departure.

“Took the day off.” Calum murmured, his morning voice even better in this setting and this close than in the living room. The smile got wider. The perfect morning. Definitely memory worthy.

“Go back to sleep, baby. We’ll talk later.”

“Bossy” Daisy whispered; the smile evident in her voice.

“Get used to it.” The smile filled her entire face.

She wanted to get used to this.

She had known he was special the first time she entered the kitchen and he was cooking.

She wanted him to be hers back then and she still wanted it now. And right now, it seemed like Calum Hood wanted the same thing. She moved slightly and was able to stop herself just before she was doing a full on happy dance.

“Stop being cute, Daise. I need my sleep and we both know you need yours. And if you continue being awake and wiggling your ass against me, we’re gonna do a lot of things but none of them are gonna be sleeping.”

At that, she couldn’t help but squirm whilst a blush took over her face.

“Christ, baby you need to stop moving.” Now there was a definite strain in not only Cals voice but also a growing one in his boxer shorts. His hand clenched around her breast. “I wanna do this right. We need to take it slow.”

Daisy was used to him calling her ‘babe’ and ‘Daise’. 'Baby' was new.

And she liked it.

She liked it a lot.

And she wanted to continue squirming and see where this took the morning, but Calum was right.

They both needed their sleep.

She could squirm later.

And she did.

Repeatedly.

/ / / /

Tagging: @irwinkitten @cal-pal-cuddles @josierosie @heavenlyhemminqs @hoodsmelancholy @calsophat @valentinelrh @cashton-queen @cakesunflower @cashtonismyweakness

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