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#i definitely need to watch both series’s again
gh0stsp1d3r · 2 days
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ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇
Chapter 6- just like your father
Series masterlist
Warnings- once again not too much rafe): I’m trying to get more rafe in the next parts, the readers drunk the whole time basically lol
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“Now a live update from the sheriffs department.”
“Yeah, after six weeks, the five teens that had been missing from Kildare county have returned, been reunited with their families.” Rafe went closer to the tv, sitting down and staring out. “We’re still waiting for details about their journey. But I’m sure they have quite a tale to tell.”
“We also got word that the father of one of the teens, John B Routledge, who’s been presumed dead for a year now, has also returned live and well. Wonders never cease. Right now, we’re just trying to get those kids settled back into school, with their families. They’ve been through a lot.”
“The teens were down in Kildare island with two other Kildare teens, Sarah Cameron and Y/N Maybank.” The sheriff spoke.
Rafes eyes widened at the mention of you and his sister.
“Sarah’s the daughter of disgraced real estate magnate, Ward Cameron, who confessed to the murder of Peterkin two months ago. y/n is the daughter of Luke Maybank, who is also presumed missing after escaping prison.”
Rafe watched as both of your pictures were put on screen, he recognized yours to be one of you you posted to your instagram, you at the beach. He was in the background, he noticed upon looking closer. Then, a picture of your brother, you and your dad.
You looked at the tv screen, scoffing at the picture they put up when they said your dad’s name. A picture of you, JJ and your dad. It was JJ’s first day of school, you remember that day as if it was your own first day of school.
You gripped the can harder, heavily sighing and leaning back in the chair. Yeah, you’d need more than one drink today.
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“When I was there, Rafe was talking about how the cross was his. Not- not Ward’s.” You told them all, hiccuping after and covering your mouth.
“Are you- are you seriously drunk right now?” Pope asked, all of them noticing the way you slurred your words.
“Fuck off. I’m an adult. Can do whatever I want.” You said with a childish giggle.
“It’s like 10 am in the morning.”
“Yo!” Kiara sapped her fingers. “Can we please get back on the topic?”
“Right. And he’s coming into Wilmington tonight at eight. It’s being shipped by train from like… R.. Ra… Raleigh I think? I dunno.”
“You get any other information?” Pope asked.
“Uh, y/n got the cargo number.” Kiara spoke, picking up the paper.
“Okay, well, that’s a start.”
“I mean, they’re definitely fencing that shit off as we speak. So we should probably get a move on.” JJ said, watching you down the rest of the can, and grab a 4th one next to you from your spot on the floor.
“Sarah, you hear from John B?”
“No, I mean, he’s probably off somewhere with his dad. But the problem is they have the Twinkie.”
“Our transportation.”
“I have a car, you know? It’s a hunk of shit, but it works.” You shrugged.
All of them raised their eyebrows at that. “It’s back at Ricky’s. I should probably go talk to him anyways.”
They all were hesitant, you could tell.
“I’m- I’m your only fuckin’ option, so, my car or nothing.”
“She’s right.” JJ told them, already hopping on his bike.
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“Ricky?” You shouted when you opened the door. He wasn’t home, you sighed, taking the keys off the counter and stumbling back outside.
“He not home?” JJ asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Nope.” You told him, locking the door. You go into the car, trying to get it started. But it never turns on, you groan in annoyance, fumbling with the keys, and trying again.
“Goddamnit!” You laughed, slamming your fist onto the dashboard and going out.
“It’s… not working.”
“Not working? What’s wrong with it?”
“I don’t know! It’s not fucking starting.” You shrugged.
JJ threw his hands up in defeat.
“Alright. That’s okay. We can.. try my dads.” Pope said.
“And I’ll try to see if my parents will.” Kiara spoke.
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You ended up going with JJ and Kiara to her parents.
“Jesus, Cleo was not wrong. It does look like the White House.” You mumbled when you entered. You drunkenly stumbled up the steps, JJ rolling his eyes and eventually just helping you up once you almost fell.
“We just found out it’s… it’s gonna be in Wilmington tonight.”
“Okay, and the cross is Popes family-“
“Popes family heirloom.” Kiara finished.
“Shit, this house is nice. Think we could just…?” You told JJ, grabbing an expensive bracelet sitting on the counter and pocketing it.
An idea popped into his head when you did that. If they don’t wanna give them the keys, he can take them.
“He’s alive!” Kiara argued. “JJ.” She turned, the cutlery clanking as he put it away guiltily, getting caught messing with it.
“Do rich people really need to use like… fancy everything? Like fancy plates? Is that necessary?” You mumbled, mostly to yourself as you took another sip.
“A little help?”
He put his hand up, counting off his fingers.
“Wards alive in the Carribean. He’s living off the loot he stole from us, and, uh, yeah, he’s flying across to Wilmington.”
“I was-“ you covered your mouth when you hiccuped again. “With them during the whole thingie. Basically I fell into the water…” you imitated water splashing with your hands.
“And it was like ‘ahhh! Now I’m stuck with my ex boyfriend who’s also crazy on an island, ahh!’ And then we went to some vacation home he has, and I saw Ward and he was like ‘sup, y/n. I’m alive.’ And that’s what happened.” You nodded to yourself, all of them staring at you dumbfounded.
“Give me a break, man.” Kiara’s dad spoke.
“Yeah, you’re right. What do I know? Just saw it with my own two eyes.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes and taking another sip from the bottle. “So did Kiara and JJ but, whatever.”
“I’m skeptical, okay? I am skeptical, y/n as in I think it’s all bullshit. And I think you’ve been led astray, Kiara. And you, JJ, Y/N- let’s get this out in the open.”
“Just take it down a bit-“ her mom tried.
“No. Let me tell you something, you need to understand that I do get it.”
“Sure you do.” You and JJ said in unison, you both laughing at that.
“Do you hear me?”
“Sure. Sure.”
“I like you, guys, and I bet you’re fricking fun to hang with, and to ditch school with, go down to the break, and.. drink beer,” he directed that last sentence to you, eyeing the can in your hand.
“because I was once just like you both. I didn’t think that anything mattered, thought I could make up any bullshit story and these stupid kooks would believe it. But then I learned about hard work.”
“Yeah, well, hard work doesn’t get you shit if you’re like us. I mean- shit, compared to me, you have no clue what hard work is like.” You spat, pointing to yourself. He was getting to close to JJ for your comfort.
He narrowed his eyes at you. “And about what really mattered. All I care about, all that I care about is my daughter. That’s it. And all I know is that she was a lot better off before she met you and your friends.” He said, this sentence directed to JJ.
“Dad, I was never better off!” Kiara argued, you looked at JJ, shaking your head when you saw his reaction. You were gonna kill this guy.
“I was miserable.”
“Miserable? No, no. No!” He shouted, turning to you and JJ.
“No, these pogues have ruined my daughter’s life.” He shouted in your face, you stood in front of JJ, trying your best to protect him.
“Didn’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Carrera.” You told him, turning to usher JJ out.
“Y’all have a good day.” JJ spoke, both of you heading to the door.
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing?” Kiara asked.
“Protecting my daughter.”
“Can we please-“
“Wait a second. Everybody says it, they are liars and thief’s!” Her dad shouted.
You and JJ stopped in your tracks.
“They’re just like their father! I mean, one of them is already drunk off their ass!”
The two words neither of you wanted to hear.
You looked at JJ, who held back tears at the words. You held your own back, throwing the rest of the can, looking at it pour onto the hardwood floor.
You grabbed the keys from the tray, you looked around again, shrugging before grabbing a jacket on the coat hanger, as well as some shoes.
“Wanna talk shit, you’re gonna get bit, right?” You mumbled to yourself, shrugging and following JJ down the steps.
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“Is she.. talking with Topper?” Pope asked, all of them turning to you and Topper at the bar.
“He didn’t want me to say anything, but he’s a fucking mess.” Topper said with a laugh, you laughed with him.
“Yeah, well, he was an asshole. So…” you said, taking the shot you ordered.
“Believe me, I know.” He told you,
“Hey, Jayj.”
“What?”
“I bet you Topper has a way to transport the cross.” Pope spoke.
“Actually, Popes right. He does have a rig.”
“No.” Sarah argued.
“Yes.”
“Yes, come on.”
“No, absolutely not.”
“What are we talking about?” You asked them, coming up behind them suddenly.
“Sarah, you already got him whipped anyway, right? So why don’t you just take one for the team?”
“What would John B say?” She said.
“I think John B will completely understand. Think about the circumstances, it’s about treasure.”
“We can handle John B. Just talk to him.”
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“Why do I feel like I’m gonna regret this?” Topper spoke, all of you happy when you saw her hug him.
You ended up falling asleep on the boat. Your eyes shut as they all came up with plans.
You can’t even escape him in your dreams. Because when you fell asleep, a fond memory of the two of you popped up in your mind.
“Shit, slow down.” He laughed, grabbing onto your hand as you ran down, pushing past people and making your way down straight to the floor.
“Can’t believe I let you drag me into this shit.” He said with a laugh when the band came on stage and cheers erupted.
He watched you while you paid close attention to the band. And when your guys song came on, he was told to sing with you, he hesitated but eventually did.
“Got the music in you, baby. Tell me why. You've been locked in here forever. And you just can't say goodbye. Your lips, my lips. Apocalypse.”
You both sung to each other, you staring at him with the most love and adoration he’s ever seen, and him staring at you with the most love anyone’s ever seen him have.
You both leaned in, but before your lips connected…
You woke up, quickly sitting up and groaning, wiping the sleep from your eyes.
“Jesus. Think I drunk too much earlier. I’m going crazy.” You told them, all of them turning to look at you now.
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Taglist
@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah
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bogslob · 2 months
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I think zukos character development is kinda missing in the live action. In the original he does bad things and hurts people, here they let other people do his part. Just to make him more likeable? Just like taking sokkas sexism away, it's not a bad thing as long as he grows out of it.
Hi, this is so exciting, my very first one of these question thingys.
Okay so I kinda agree with you. I do feel like Zukos anger has been kinda watered down, but he still does bad things and I honestly dont feel like his character changed that much . For example in the cartoon his attack on Aang set Kyoshi on fire and it didnt in the live action and I don’t feel like this has any repercussions on his character because I never felt like it was intentional to set the fire it was just a by product of Zuko trying to capture Aang, and I feel like if it had happened in the live action Zuko would have reacted the same way. I think Zuko never wanted to hurt people, but capturing the avatar was so important to him that if people got hurt on the way so be it, capturing Aang was worth it, but I don’t think in either version he would have hurt people if he could have avoided it.
I think thats what makes Zukos character development possible, he never wanted to cause any harm. I think it’s important that we see that what ever is going on with Zuko he truly cares about people. I think one of the key moments that shows this is when in “the storm” (cartoon) Zuko momentarily gives up on capturing Aang and prioritises his crews safety. I think another key moment was when Zuko attempted to save Zhao from koi-Aang, it seemed so poignant that even when he was the bad guy he would try and save his enemy.
I think it’s his desperation thats missing in the live action. The absolute drive to capture Aang and regain his honour. I think the reason he was willing to put other people in danger is because he valued capturing Aang over all else, at the end of the day, it was Zuko who was in the most danger every time, he was always the one to fight Aang head on. I think this is best evidenced when he swims through the seal holes to enter the northern water tribe. I just don’t feel like live action Zukos heart is truly in it in the same way. I think this is so important for Ozais and Zukos relationship, and without Zuko having this same desperation it seems less plausible that he would re join the fire nation at the end of season 2. We have already seen that the live action Zuko has fought Ozai at the agni kai, which makes me feel like he is allready further on his journey towards rebellion. Although to be fair his lack of desperation may be in part due to the fact that live action Ozai seems to have a slightly better relationship with Zuko, almost seeming proud of him for finding the avatar (although we also have no idea how he acted when he was around Zuko), but he does still burn Zukos face off so I think this is unlikely.
At the end of the day, I think both Zukos loyalty is to the fire nation, but I think in season 1 cartoon Zukos loyalty is to Ozai and live action Zukos loyalty is to his people.
But obviously this is all subjective and from the point of view of someone who has watched the cartoon many times and therefore my opinion is heavily influenced by this. I also feel like live action Zuko may be better than he really was in my brain because honestly he was the only character I liked. I am very curious how someone new to the series would view live action Zuko though.
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bredforloyalty · 1 year
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i don't think we do luv i don't think we do
#i do agree (obviously!) that for a series you need to get people to care about your characters so they want to keep watching it#comedy barely holds up without a story.. if you don't take time to work on storytelling or you want inexhaustible archetypes for characters#that you can use to churn out jokes‚ whether that's pointless random skits like family guy does it or something based on the relationships#like relationships within a certain status quo (s1 rick garbage man abuses his family. except it wasn't that simple back then either)#the problem with the sitcom where nothing changes so someone can just write gag after gag without changing the foundations is that it#becomes tiring. people stop caring because you've made it impossible to care for the characters by not allowing any meaningful changes#so in that sense i do agree it is 'becoming an actual series'. but it was on its way from the beginning‚ just needed some refinement#a whole lot maybe#but with setting limits for your writing and keeping your characters consistent and engaging emotionally you limit the#wacky hijinks as well. like don't tell me we got a banger like the vat of acid episode from season 6 or even 5 lol it's no longer explosive#i think rick and morty has always been inconsistent and that bred both great episodes and khm bad ones#there's definitely gonna be less bad ones from now on but the potential of the r&m dynamic has also been.... i would say curbed#that's okay this needed to happen like this. and i think they're going in the right direction and i think the stars will align and they'll#write bangers again#a lot of great things could happen following this. like in these actual arcs that they're developing there's still potential for comedy and#drama and they'll find their way back imo. to the sweet spot between chaos (wacky random funny) and order (meaningful and consistent)#ok that's all. if one hates rick being a miserable pathetic piece of shit one should mayhaps fuck off#✌️💗#kata.txt#rnm
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chuluoyi · 7 months
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✎ baby
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- gojo satoru x reader
a domestic life with your husband and baby
genre: teeth-rotting fluff, sugary dump fluff, and simply pure fluffff, baby-related, mentions of pregnancy, dad!gojo
note: inspired by this fanart by Deltapork in twitter! from the moment i saw that artwork, i just can't get this out of my head😫
and this is a part of a series of gojo drabbles i’ve planned called gojo's love entries anthology -> updated masterlist here
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Watching your husband entertain your child would never fail to make you smile.
"Aw, my cute baby!" Satoru joyfully exclaimed as he and the baby, secure in his hold, emitted almost harmonious squeals of delight. Both of them practically shared the same brain cells at this point.
And it was a sight that warmed your heart so much, especially when the old Gojo Satoru was a prick who used to made little Megumi cry just for the sake of it and always said that babies and everything that came with them were a pain.
He playfully devoured your son's plump cheeks and burst into laughter, paying no attention to the curious glances he garnered from other shoppers at the supermarket.
"Satoru, hush," you chided gently as you pushed the cart, yet still smiling all the same.
"Ah, look, mama doesn't approve," he remarked to your babbling son, wearing a playful pout. At the same time, your barely seven-month baby puckered his lips too, turning him into a perfect miniature version of your mischievous husband at his best, melting your heart even further.
"It's time for his milk," you pointed out, retrieving the milk bottle. Satoru reached for it and offered it to your baby, who eagerly latched on and started drinking.
Your precious baby continued to feed on the formula, clearly relishing it. It appeared that he couldn't get enough, with the way he drank with such enthusiasm.
"He's a hungry baby... just like you," you mused.
Satoru laughed out loud once again. "Why are you comparing a baby with a grown-ass man?"
Your son was still drinking the milk and seemed like he wanted more, but you could definitely tell how content he was in that moment.
"Because it's your baby, duh. And not only he looks like you, he's also reflecting what you've been doing to me so far, it's uncanny."
"So I've turned our son into a mini-me now, have I." He regarded you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And what have I done to you, darling? Tell me."
"...A lot of bad things."
"Heh, is that so?"
The baby then stopped drinking and seemed to want you to cuddle him, as he reached his tiny hands towards you. Satoru handed him over to you, taking the bottle away, and you gently pulled him close, cradling him against your chest.
"Yeah. Bad, bad things," you cooed to your baby, your eyes sparkling with joy. "First you seduced me, then got me pregnant. And then you forced me to go through that painful labor."
Satoru didn't miss the way the clerk eyed him after you said that. But he chuckled anyway. "Well... in the end you fell for me, and I probably seduced you a bit..."
He paid for the groceries and then the two of you walked out of the supermarket.
"But is that so bad?" He continued with a meaningful smirk. "You seemed like you love it so there's nothing to complain about."
"Hmph."
"And then I got you pregnant... well, you wanted a baby, dear, so you can't really be mad and blame just me for it all, okay?"
The fact that you were having this crack conversation at a crossroad made you struggle to stifle your laughter, to say the least.
Your son was still cuddling up to your chest and now he was looking at you with those wide, glassy blue eyes. You could tell how much he liked and needed you, as well as spending time with you, his mother.
This is your baby with the man who loves you. How could you not love him in return?
Satoru looked at his son in your arms. “Our son is the cutest, isn’t he?”
He seemed tired more than anything though, with the big yawn he just emitted.
“He is so… defenseless.”
“Well, he’s a baby,” your husband said matter-of-factly. “That’s how babies are, darling. He’s learning how to do things and completely defenseless, so he needs his parents. You and I.”
Your baby’s eyes became a little droopy. He was sleepy now, and wanted your warmth to fall asleep.
“Let’s… protect him together, yeah, Satoru?” you muttered softly as your child settled in your embrace, peaceful and content, falling asleep.
Your heartstrings were pulled when you witnessed the expression of absolute adoration on your husband's face.
“Silly. I’m the one who will protect both of you, sweetheart.”
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months
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ruined.
LN x fem!reader - 4k celebration
based on this request!
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in which, why wouldn’t they fall in love?
back with another celebration request! thank u anon, love this one sm! so tempted to make something longer form outta this one omg... lemme know what you think of this, hugs hugs hugs
i had to reupload this! sorry if you already interacted :(
songs to set the mood: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas, you are in love by taylor swift, sofia by clairo, till forever falls apart by ashe and finneas
warnings: 18+!! minors go away dni!! smut, fluff, swearing, alcohol consumption, voyeurism? kinda? friends to lovers, mutual pining
3.4k words
“i bring gifts!” you call out, throwing the keys on the side. you shuffle your feet against the doormat, awkwardly balancing the bottle of wine you hold in one hand and the box of pizza in the other. it doesn’t help that you feel like the michelin man, bundled up in a jacket and a scarf. you kick off your boots, leaving them haphazardly in the hallway.
“in the kitchen.” lando shouts back, and you trudge towards the sound of his voice, sliding around in your fluffy socks.
“i hate all of those stupid little cars that everyone in monaco seems to drive.” you tut, sliding the pizza box across the counter, the bottle of wine clinking against the granite.
“even my jolly?” lando pouts. he’s waiting with two wine glasses, even though you’ll drink most of the merlot while he scrunches his nose up in distaste, but this is routine, standard procedure.
“i do miss the jolly, to be fair.” you give him that much, grinning playfully.
five minutes later, your coat and scarf are long forgotten, slung over one of the high chairs that line his breakfast bar. you’re in the living room, sprawled on one end of the couch, him on the other. your feet rest in his lap and the pizza box rests across your knees. some series you’ve been trying to watch for weeks is playing on netflix, but you aren’t really paying much attention.
“so, you’re telling me,” you pause to take another bite of pizza, swallowing between giggles, “you’re telling me that you heard oscar through the wall?” you choke.
“yeah, i’m telling you! little oscar is definitely not… little, from what i heard.” he cackles. “and then afterwards, bless them, they were all dishevelled and he would not make eye contact with me.” lando explains, both of you a mess of giggles.
“oscar piastri, what a minx.” you shake your head in disbelief.
“as if that’s what i needed, by the way! the dry spell was not helped by whatever him and lily were getting at.”
“dry spell? you? don’t lie to me, norris.” you kick him gently.
“what? i’m serious! start of the season has been so busy, haven’t had time to… get busy.” he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes.
“welcome to my world, you prick.” you tease, kicking him again. you catch his ribs as you do, knowing full well you’ve hit the prime tickle spot.
“what’s your excuse?”
“excuse you, i’m a busy gal! we can’t all be famous jet-setting f1 drivers.” you feign offence, and he grins toothily.
“i meant,” he starts, speaking slowly as if you’re stupid, and for a third time, you kick him, a tad harder than the last two times. “you’re a catch, how are you not getting laid?”
you pray he can’t see the way you’ve gone pink.
truthfully, he’s the damn reason. how can any man live up to the one and only lando norris? how can anyone compare to your best friend? world famous, beautiful, down right hilarious, beautiful!
lando’s the guy that picks up the pieces every time some loser breaks your heart. he’s the guy who’s key you keep on your overflowing keychain, the guy who buys duplicates of the skincare products you use, so you can keep them at his place - you still laugh every time you remember the first time he tried to pronounce salicylic acid. he’s basically your guy, but after 10 years of friendship, you’re not willing to tell him that.
“just… not.” you shrug, tucking your hair behind your ear. he hums in response, sounds like he doesn’t believe you, but he drops it.
you sink three glasses of red, the pizza box is on the floor, and your eyes are drooping, heavy.
“bedtime for you, methinks.” lando whispers, gently shifting your feet from his lap. you frown, missing his touch already. you make grabby hands at him, too comfy to move on your own. “want me to carry you?” you nod lazily, a smile stretching across your face.
he slides one hand under your legs, the other under your back, and hoists you up. he holds you close to his chest, your head resting against his heart, so close that you can hear the soft thrum that keeps him warm.
“thank you.” you murmur as he places you softly on your- his guest bed.
“anytime, honey.” he smiles down at you. he thinks you’re so pretty like this, so sleepy and cosy. he fights the demons that tell him to crawl into the empty space beside you. “there’s some water here, sleep well, love.” he walks away, reaching the door when:
“love you.” you coo. he shivers. you always say it, and he always says it back, but lately, it pains him.
“yeah. love you too.”
lando pulls the door to quietly, leaning against the wood for a moment trying to compose himself.
-
it’s been an hour, and you’re sobered up, wide awake in the dark.
you try to fall asleep, really, you do, but your mind is moving a thousands miles an hour, and all you can think about is his dry spell. your dry spell.
how can you sleep when you know he’s on the other side of the wall, as needy as you are for a warm body. you also know that you’ve soaked through your underwear. you’re wildly uncomfortable, restless, desperate for a sweet release, whether that be of sleep, or something else.
you can’t ask him, it would be a step too far, despite how torturously close you already are. so instead, you drive yourself insane with the thought of him; the image of him, head thrown back, slick and sweaty, cock hard in his hand.
what’s the harm in helping yourself out?
you’re throbbing, hot all over. you lose the war with yourself and your hand trails shamelessly down your body. you’re so sensitive that you’re instantly stifling moans, hand slapped over your mouth. you can’t get the earlier image out of your head, and you pray he’s on the other side of the wall thinking about you. you’re desperate, bucking your hips into your hand, aching for a release. you wish your hands were lando’s, big and rough, toying with every quivering part of you.
you have an idea, a twisted one, the kind that almost sends you over the edge. what would happen if you let yourself be as loud as you wanted, if you tore your hand away and cried out like you wanted to? every shred of rationality leaves your needy body.
you’re whining, clear as day. your resist calling out his name as your high builds, tweaking your clit between your fingers. you’re so dangerously close, hovering right on the edge. that’s when you hear it.
on the other side of the wall, your vision of lando has become a reality. your faint whines through the wall have him rock hard, fucking his own hand. he wishes it could be yours, and with the way you’re crying out, he doesn’t think you’d oblige to sitting on his lap, wet and pretty, and letting him sink his cock nice and deep.
but he can’t cross that line. not with you. it doesn’t matter how badly he wants you, how he’d go to the ends of the earth for you. one night wasn’t worth ten years of friendship, washed down the drain.
his hand speeds up, his head thrown back, at the same time as you slip two fingers inside of yourself. you fingers curl, hitting deep when you hear a throaty groan sounding from the other side of the wall.
you’d think a millionaire would have thicker walls.
he hears the exact moment you cum, a noticeable change in your sounds. they’ve gone up an octave, breathless, and before he can even register, he’s spurting thick white ribbons that land hotly on his skin.
you clean yourselves up, rooms apart but the same exact things running through your minds.
i just got off to the sound of my best friend.
-
you nibble the crusts of your toast. the kitchen is quiet, painfully so, and the air is still.
lando has his back to you, making you another cup of coffee. he’s forgone a shirt and you try your absolute best to ignore the warm glow of his skin. he looks radiant. you know why; orgasms can do that.
“lando-“
“we don’t need to talk about it, honey.”
“um, i was just gonna tell you that you’re burning your toast.” you snicker.
“oh, fuck.” he slides along the floor to the toaster, burning his fingers on blackened bread.
when he turns to you, he’s tinged red, grinning bashfully.
“moving on.”
“i need to get home but dinner later? i won’t stay the night.” you wink. you crave the normalcy that once was, the light, teasing nature of your friendship.
“i’ll cook.” he’s still blushing.
“ooh, on second thought.” you suck air through your teeth, pulling a face.
“get outta here.” he sticks his tongue out at you.
-
dinner was… well, it was edible.
he made spaghetti and some kind of sauce, one that you couldn’t quite work out the contents of but it was good enough.
“thanks, lan.” you smile softly, helping him clear the few plates off the table.
“anytime, honey.” he replies.
you’re standing at the sink, placing the cutlery down when you feel him behind you. you spin around, instantly regretting it, because you’re caged in. he’s leaning up to reach into a cupboard, frozen. so, so close. his panicked breath fans your face and you can feel the heat of his body.
you lean in, because why wouldn’t you? and so does he, so, so close. your hand that rests on the edge of the sinks moves so that you can reach out and cup his disgustingly perfect face but then-
a knife that had been hovering between the counter and plunging into the soapy hot water gets nudged over the edge by your clumsy hand and clatters against into the bowl.
the irritating noise springs you both back to reality and he jumps away like an orange cat. you grimace at the awkward tension, and he scratches the back of his neck. and then you’re laughing, hard, and of course he joins in because this situation is utterly ridiculous and your laugh is so beautifully contagious.
“oh my god, what is wrong with us?” you wheeze through the laughter, leaning back against the counter.
“last night was… insane. and now everything feels weird so, let’s just go back to basics.” lando smiles gracefully. you nod.
“that sounds absolutely perfect.”
“netflix?”
“and chill?” you chime in sarcastically. he glares at you. “couldn’t help it.” you hold your hands up in faux surrender.
-
you don’t know when you fall asleep, but you conk out, head lulling against his shoulder when you do.
he haunts your dreams, fingers thick between your thighs while you whimper his name. you must be out of it, so deep in your slumber that it takes lando a good few coos of your name to draw you out of it.
when your eyes shoot open, he’s looking down at you, a single curl falling over his forehead, taunting you.
“you dreaming of me?” he grins, something in his eyes that snaps you out of your grogginess.
“wh-why?” you splutter, sitting up. he’s still so close to you, coy smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips,
“kept making these little sounds, panting my name. got me thinking.”
“about what?” you whisper.
“how much i wanted to pin you to that bed last night and make you cry for me.”
“is this gonna ruin us?” your voice trembles with a unique blend of fear and anticipation.
“after last night? baby, we’re already ruined.”
his lips meet yours, tentative for just a brief second, and then it’s passionate, warm, lightning. his hands are firm on your body, pulling you impossibly closer until there’s no other option but to clamber into his lap. your hands find his hair, tugging wildly until his curls are a disheveled mess, pulled every which way.
“you’re so beautiful. want to tell you all the time but-“ lando mumbles into your mouth, urgent and hushed.
“but friends don’t do that.” you cut him off.
he pulls away from you, his nose bumping yours. his eyes are so blue today, sparkly.
“i think we’re more than that.” he mutters, lips brushing yours. “i think we have been for a while.”
“yeah.” you pant. “yeah we have. yeah.” your eyes dart between his and his kiss swollen lips.
and then you’re licking into his mouth, sighing at the relief. he paws at your waist, warm hands sliding under your jumper, gliding over your hips and up, up, up, until he’s dragging the material over you head and tossing it carelessly to the side. he kisses over your collarbone, licking and nipping while his hands smooth over your bra. he plucks at the fasten, and you relax as it snaps open, and the straps slide over your shoulders.
“is this okay, angel?” he whispers.
“perfect.”
his thumbs trace over the curve of your breasts, teasing your nipples gently, enough to send shockwaves through your body. you’re subconsciously grinding down on him, dragging your hips over his crotch, mouth dropping open when you hear the way his breath catches in his throat.
“driving me insane, honey.” he gulps, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “need to get inside of you.”
“hurry up then.” you sound desperate to your ears, delicious to his.
“do you know how hard it was to stay in my room last night? when i could hear you making those pretty little noises? you’re so bad.” he tuts, lifting you off of his lap and laying you back against the couch.
nimble fingers undo your jeans and you jolt as he slides them down your thighs, intimate touches on intimate skin. you lace your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss you, and you moan into his open mouth when his fingers trail beneath your underwear.
lando dips his fingers between your folds, groaning as soon as he feels where your wetness has pooled in your panties. you’re intoxicating, he thinks, and he’s starving for you. he pries his hand from between your legs, lapping at his soaked digits. his eyes fall shut, eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks.
your taste sparks something within him, and he wriggles onto his belly, resting in between your thighs. he toys with your panties, just for a second, and he can’t help but latch on. he laves his tongue over the growing wet patch, eyes fluttering shut. he drags your underwear to the side, lapping over your cunt messily.
“taste so good.” he slurs into your pussy, depraved and ravenous. you buck your hips, the sensation of his words sending rumbles of vibrations to every one of your nerve endings.
you writhe against the plush couch, sinking deeper between the cushions as he fucks his tongue deeper and deeper, burrowing his face as far between your thighs as he can go.
“lando, ‘m so close.” you gasp, tugging hard at his curls, taking your nails across his scalp. he whimpers, whimpers, at the sensation and that’s enough to finish you off.
he keeps going, kitten licking you through your orgasm and you pant, nothing but white behind your squeezed shut eyes. you have you drag him away, overstimulated and twitching against the silvery grey fabric of the sofa.
“fuck.” you laugh, breathless.
“good?” he smirks.
“shut up and come here.” you make grabby hands at him, and he clambers over you, smiling wide, his lips coated shiny and red.
“you’re pretty.” he coos, licking his lips clean.
“so are you.” you whisper.
he collapses on top of you, urgently slotting his lips over yours. he slides his hands all over your frame, memorising every dip and curve, while your hands find the waistband of his joggers. you push the material down his hips gently tracing his hip bone; he shudders at the graze, kicking the fabric away and wrapping his hand around his cock.
you glance down, taking in the sight before you. he’s thick in his own hand, red and slick already, as he runs his hand over himself.
“you want me?” he manages to ask through gritted teeth.
“please.” you whine, reaching to replace his hand, but he bats you away.
“patience, baby. wanted you like this for so long, you can wait a few seconds.” he scolds, condescendingly.
you don’t get a chance to talk back, because he’s sliding inside of you, nice and slow. your eyes roll back at the delectable stretch, he’s bigger than you’ve had in a while, and you hum lowly. he kisses over your throat and you can hear his shaky breath fanning your ear. you’re fluttering around him, adjusting to him with small circles of your hips.
“do something.” you beg, hushed and breathless.
“you think you can take it?” lando taunts, but you can hear the way his voice waivers as your walls spasm around him.
“can you?” you whisper, giving as good as you get. something inside of him snaps and pride kicks in, because before you can even truly gloat, he’s barrelling into you.
you cling onto his shoulders greedily, digging your fingertips in to whatever part of him you can get hold of. he thrusts so deep, all the way in, before dragging fully out, leaving you aching for him to fill you up again. he’s going quick enough that you can’t really complain, but slow enough to tease, to drive you insane beneath him. it feels too good to hurry him up, he knows what he’s doing and you want to take it, feel him like this. you’re quivering, his cock hitting every single spot that makes you tick and you think you can die happy now that you’ve had him.
“i’m so close.” you warn, overstimulated from your first orgasm. he ups his pace, just enough to send you spiralling, and you can’t keep your eyes open as you let go, your legs kicking out.
it’s too much when you open your eyes and find him staring down at you, sleepy and sweaty. he’s gorgeous like this, pupils blown, bronze skin glistening in the low light. he feels the way you throb around him, still buried so deep.
“not done with you yet, angel. c’mere.” lando sits back, pulling your limp body along with him until your right back where you started, sprawled over his lap.
he’s so close to his own release, pained and restless, and you can feel the head rubbing against your clit. even in your state of pure exhaustion, you can’t help but grind down against him, and he lifts your hips enough for you to sink down on him.
your sounds of pleasure ricochet off of one another’s, animalistic contentment spilling from between two sets of equally swollen lips. you’re so full like this, rocking tiredly, backwards and forwards.
“just like that, baby. just like that.” he’s breathing heavily, brows furrowed. his head tips back, neck thick and flexed, and you’re thrown back into the deep end of your fantasy.
“oh my god.” you choke, tears of satisfaction building. “lando!” you cry, meeting his shallow thrusts. he’s guiding your hips up and down, just enough to hammer against that special spot that makes you whine his name.
“cum for me, baby, last one. know you can do it pretty girl.” the praise knocks the last bits of air out of you and you collapse forwards into his arms. he holds you tight, groaning sweet nothings and your name like a prayer, right in your ear.
“you’re definitely staying tonight.” lando laughs softly, coming down. you think back to your earlier refusal, grinning lazily.
“guest room?” you joke, kissing his shoulder.
he pulls you back so that he can look at you, cupping your face.
“you’re never staying in that room ever again.”
he kisses you, then. soft. warm. home.
it’s natural, everything you’ve been missing, and somehow the only thing you’ve been missing in your relationship with him. he already gave you everything you could ever need, tonight was the cherry on top.
“are we gonna be okay?” you whisper, so quiet that you can barely hear yourself. fear pools in your belly.
“i hope so. ‘cause i’m never letting you go now.”
-
i feel so warm inside hehe
-
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jk97 · 3 months
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Unprofessional Attraction | ONE
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♡ pairing - yunho x afab!reader ♡ word count - 13K ♡ series synopsis - There's no such thing as a coincidence, right? CollegeSenior!Reader (22) and linguistics teacher Yunho Jeong (27) indulge in an entanglement of inappropriate gravitation. It's risky and it's wrong, but listening to one's better judgment never leads to anything as intoxicating. When someone threatens this secret relationship with blackmail to expose the truth, things take a turn for the worse. Graduation can't seem to come fast enough. ♡ warnings for this chapter - fluff and explicit content (mdni), slight age gap, teacher/student relationship, other members are featured, pining, some obsessive behavior and manipulation (mainly from reader), drinking alcohol, inebriated driving (big no no frens!) perverted!yunho, bigdick!yunho, sprinkles of praise, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (mention of bc pill tho), porn with plot  ♡ A/N - part one is kinda tame, the next two parts will have more explicit scenes. I hope you enjoy, and please look forward to the rest! I haven't posted a fic on tumblr in many years so pls be kind ♡
Part 1 | Part 2 | ?
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Yeosang is too attentive, especially when it comes to his best friend.
That’s why he knows you well enough to call you out when he whispers, “You’re staring again.”
“I’m staring at the whiteboard, pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do in class,” you argue, not bothering to even glance at him. It’s quite obvious that your eyes are too busy soaking in things that don’t have to do with phonology.
Your linguistics teacher, Yunho Jeong, is dressed particularly charmingly today. Something about the tight-fitting white polo shirt and chocolate brown slacks he has on this class is too distracting. It doesn’t help that his hair is a little more messy than usual, you wonder if he was running late this morning. Linguistics has nothing to do with your major, however, for your final semester in college, you simply needed a filler class for your last few credits. Yeosang suggested joining him in this class so you could both support each other, but he never factored in the fact that you’d be too distracted by the teacher to do anything of use for him. There weren’t many younger teachers such as Yunho at your university; in fact, you were pretty sure this was only his second semester teaching in general. He was generally a mild-mannered and easygoing teacher, but he was also able to command a room when necessary.
A minute later, Yunho offers everyone a 10-minute break since the last section of his lecture lasted a little longer than he anticipated, and the class immediately breaks out into chatter.
“He’s single, you know,” Yeosang turns towards you and props up his head on his palm, “Or so I’ve heard.”
“Don’t tell me things like that, you’ll make me delusional.”
He doesn’t miss the goofy smile tugging at your lips as you stretch your tired limbs from too much sitting. The lectures for this class were two hours long, but they were only twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you couldn’t complain too much.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That I might have a chance with him,” you nudge him playfully.
“I’m not sure he’d want to date someone barely passing his own class,” Yeosang quips quickly, subsequently squeezing his eyes shut when you flick his forehead in response.
“Watch your mouth, I am not ‘barely passing’!” You return your eyes to the subject of your conversation, slowly taking in his form, “For the record, I could definitely pull him if I tried to. You think he likes younger women?”
“That is a terrible idea,” your best friend immediately shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Surely I would be guaranteed to pass then though, no?” you offer instead, half-joking.
“You haven’t gotten laid in the last month and this is the first person that comes to your mind to fix that?” Yeosang scoffs incredulously.
“I wouldn’t just be in it for the sex,” you clarify. Your keen eyes watch his every move, from the way that his large hands flex as he thumbs at his phone to the way he purses his lips in curiosity at whatever he’s looking up. Like a lion stalking a gazelle before pouncing. “He’s quite literally perfect. Tall, smart, handsome, financially stable… the whole package. I deserve a man like that, right Yeo?”
You meet Yeosang’s eyes curiously, and he reminds you, “I think you’re forgetting he’s our teacher .”
“We graduate soon,” you whine, “Act now, worry later. I could graduate with a boyfriend already lined up the minute I get handed my degree.”
“You’re playing with fire, ____,” he holds his hands up in surrender. As your best friend, he knows you’re not joking, despite how much you might play it off later. He knows that once you set your mind on something, you generally don’t stop until it’s achieved, “Let’s see you try, though. It’ll be entertaining.”
When class resumes, you listen to the rest of his lecture with renewed cravings and an unusually optimistic disposition Yeosang has never seen you hold for this subject.
From that moment forward, every instance you “stumbled” across your teacher was planned. You figured out which parking lot he parked his car on during the day and bought a proper parking pass for that lot, now alternating between taking the shuttle and your car to the university. Your schedules crossed occasionally on your driving days, and you’d simply offer warm greetings or cheerful send-offs depending on the time of day. Yunho was a man of habit who visited the same campus restaurant nearly every day he worked during lunchtime in between his midday classes. It didn’t take much energy to stop by a couple of days a week and run into Yunho, giving you the ability to strike up a conversation or two when asking for recommendations on what you should order. These instances were simply to put you more on his radar, instead of just being a face in the sea of students in his class.
He seems to be good friends with two other teachers who are also around his age, teachers Seonghwa Park and San Choi. You wonder if getting in their good graces would somehow transfer to your teacher, by word of mouth. Luckily, you have a friend who has Mr. Park for a history seminar. On a Sunday night, you shoot a text to set the stage.
  [Y/N: Jongho!!!! It’s been so long since we’ve hung out :(( Can I swing by your class tomorrow and pick you up? Let’s get lunch!]
When 2 PM rolls around on Monday, you make the mistake of trusting the shuttle to come on time. It’s nearly 3 PM when you get to the necessary building, and you’re sure Jongho’s class ended close to half an hour ago. The plan to run across Mr. Park is thrown completely out of the window, you are only worried about Jongho being upset with you. You know he’d never, but still. Being late to something planned ahead of time always upsets you to no end. You curse at yourself over and over every stride down the hall, and it’s good that the hallways are virtually empty or else you’d probably look crazy. Eventually, you make it to your destination.
You’re just about to blindly call out an apology to Jongho but end up stopping dead in your tracks as soon as you enter the door; not only is Mr. Park in the room seated at his desk, but he’s also accompanied by Mr. Choi and Mr. Jeong. They’re huddled together, Yunho leaning against the whiteboard leisurely with a cup of coffee in his hand while intently listening to Seonghwa complain about the registrar’s office fucking up another one of his student’s enrollment for his class.
“There she is,” Jongho sighs this aloud as if his prayers have been answered.
He didn’t know if you were going to still make it and he’s dying of hunger from skipping breakfast. Immediately, all three men’s eyes turn towards the entrance. You pray to God that your face isn’t flushed with how hot you feel being the fixation of so many eyes. Or maybe it’s more so how handsome the men are that those eyes are coming from. This surely isn’t the time to have such a weakness for a strapping man in a button-up and crisp slacks.
“Hello, ____,” Yunho is the first of the three to speak. Subsequently, San amiably nods toward you in acknowledgment.
“Good afternoon all,” you greet everyone, bashfully adding, “I’m so sorry for interrupting.”
“Not interrupting at all,” Seonghwa waves his hands, dispelling those fears, “We were curious why Jongho was sticking back so late. He assured us a friend was coming to get him and we just chose not to leave him.”
Well, this is embarrassing. You nod hastily and glance toward Jongho, who is practically skipping down the lecture hall’s steps. Yunho wants to crack a joke about seeing you everywhere, about how you both must be magnets or something else silly, but he decides to keep that to himself. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s keeping track of course, even if he is.
Instead, he affirms to the other men, “This is a student of mine.”
Admittedly, your ears had tuned every other word out except “mine”, and you nodded a little too enthusiastically. You haven’t been this discomposed in a long time, too bashful to look any of them in the eyes, and you pray it’s not showing too much elsewhere. Jongho’s friendly hand landing on your shoulder grounds you.
“You ready?”
“Absolutely,” you puff out.
“Don’t cause too much trouble for her, Jongho,” Seonghwa pokes a bit of fun at one of his top students, who replies by waving him away and scoffing. They seem to be relaxed with each other— this is something you desire to achieve with Yunho soon. You snatch up your friend’s hand and finally move to leave for lunch, if it could even be considered that now with how late it is.
“See you Wednesday, Mr. Jeong,” you look back and shoot him a wave, accompanied by a charming smile. He nods back, offering you his own as well.
Unbeknownst to you, San’s eyes follow you out the door with Jongho, especially surveying the plush of your thighs rubbing together as you walk. Such as yourself, skirts are surely a weakness of his.
“She’s a senior, right?” he murmurs, half-jokingly.
“Stop it,” Yunho promptly elbows San in the arm, earning a stifled laugh from Seonghwa.
Yunho has heard stories about San’s slight affinity with the pretty college women when he goes out to bars on the weekends. Nobody from his own classes, of course. Needless to say, Yunho would not let him even think about you that way. No way in hell.
“I was just asking, Jesus.”
Seonghwa stretches his limbs from his chair, “It’s never ‘just asking’ with you.”
“You buy a table of women drinks one time and your friends never let you hear the end of it,” he groans with a roll of his eyes, “God you guys are the worst.”
“Yeah, sure, that’s what it is,” Seonghwa concedes sarcastically.
“Just don’t make any unannounced visits to my classroom anytime soon, you buffoon,” Yunho chastises him while pressing his cup to his lips, “And I’m serious.”
“You got that,” San yields, “Wouldn’t wanna be a cock-block.”
Yunho nearly spits his coffee, “I beg your pardon?”
San nearly doubles over in laughter and, to Yunho’s surprise, Seonghwa has joined in. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the look they’re sharing and it makes the back of his neck burn with heat. Yunho doesn’t know why he’s so embarrassed but he steers the conversation away from discussing you any further. He ignores the feeling of indignation and possessiveness pooling in the pit of his stomach.
It doesn’t take long for you to decide you’ve done what needed to be done outside of the classroom; the cherry on top now was simply to get him alone more privately.
You didn’t have to try very hard for this to happen; your work on your paper outline was already sub-par at best. You did fairly well on the quizzes and packets he passed out once a week, but that final paper preparation was surely going to be a challenge. When you find enough courage in yourself to email him about seeing him during his office hours for extra academic help on formatting your paper and choosing a more concise topic, he replies quickly and enthusiastically. According to your syllabus, the topic should relate to what you’re studying for your degree, but the real meat and potatoes of the paper should incorporate an aspect of linguistics in relation to your career path. Yunho understands how something like this can be difficult to tackle, so he assures you not to worry and that you both will work on perfecting it in no time.
“Mr. Jeong, do you mind if I text you instead? It’s more convenient for me than to email,” you end up asking him at the end of class on a Friday.
Yunho doesn’t mind this and he says so; he's put his phone number on the syllabus for situations like this. Moreover, he doesn’t think anything of it when he receives a text from you the morning of your first session telling him good morning and saying that you’re excited to finally get some guidance. You follow up by asking how he likes his coffee, and if he prefers muffins or donuts. Even after this indicator, he’s still surprised that you show up at his office right on time at 10 AM on Monday with two fresh cups of coffee and a couple of things from the campus bakery.
His office is fairly small, but not enough to feel uncomfortable. He’s decorated it to his liking though to make it feel a little more homely on the days he has to stay late for one reason or another. He watches you marvel at his space before you set down everything in your hands and relieve yourself of your backpack.
“Good morning!”
“Good morning ____, welcome in,” Yunho smiles. “You’re very punctual.”
“Of course, I meant what I said about being excited,” you tell him honestly, settling into the seat in front of his desk, “The right one is yours, by the way.”
Yunho timidly thanks you before sliding it closer to himself. He’s never had a student do something for him like this, then again he hasn’t been teaching that long to begin with. Regardless, he appreciates it and the gesture goes straight to his heart. He takes a sip to emphasize this.
“I’m all ready when you are,” you proclaim, clasping your hands together.
With that, he begins to look through his folders for your class number and finds the topic idea and outlines you’ve submitted previously. He doesn’t even have to look for your name specifically, you always tend to write his name and your class section in a particular way on the top of your work that is very appealing and oddly unique.
“You have really pretty handwriting,” Yunho murmurs out absentmindedly when he finds it. When he lifts his head to see your intrigued eyes gazing back at him, he clears his throat and adds, “Mine looks like chicken scratch so I’m always fascinated by others.”
“As long as it’s legible, that’s all that matters,” you hum with a smile, “And I can read yours just fine, so you’re fine.”
Yunho’s not sure why that mild compliment, something that should probably be insignificant, steals his words from him for a moment. Instead, he offers a hum in place of thanks while quickly taking another sip of his coffee. He glances at his notes before speaking again.
“Okay, so when I reviewed your work, it seems like you generally have a solid topic,” he begins, “It’s definitely something that can be a bit more concise, but it’s fine. The problem is that you’re trying to incorporate too much into the paper as a whole.”
You nod in understanding, so he takes a sip of coffee and continues.
“That’s good and bad, for a couple of reasons. It’s good that you’re being ambitious and trying to give lots of information. This shows me that you’re planning on doing a lot of research and you’re going to be very knowledgeable about your topic,” Yunho cocks his head, “If you set yourself up like this, though, your paper will end up being over twenty pages easily. And we both don’t want that, right?”
He gives you a knowing look, and you can’t help the candid snort you let out at his frankness, “Definitely not, oh God. I’m so sorry.”
“Precisely. So, let’s work on cutting some of these sections out and conjoining some of these bullet points in others. Sound good?” He holds out his hand with a grin as if to make it a deal, and you grant him a firm shake.
After a considerable amount of time figuring out which parts of your paper to chop without losing the vision, Yunho feels his limbs tighten from sitting too long. He’s been in this chair since 9 AM, so he asks, “Can we take a quick break? I need to stretch a bit.”
“Of course!”
When he stands to full height and stretches his arms, your eyes inconspicuously survey the way the edge of the desk lines up right with his pelvis. Perfect height for extracurricular activities… You wonder if he’s the type of guy to be open to something like that, fucking his lover in his office. Surely this thing is sturdy enough to withstand it, you muse. The thought of him bending you over the desk just to prove how sturdy it is makes you rub your thighs together. You decide to chug the rest of your now-cold coffee to get your brain back on track. Yunho collapses back into his office chair gently and lets you know he’s ready to resume. The rest of the time is spent setting up a list of some things you could tweak when you go home on your own and prepare for him to view in a couple of days.
On Wednesday, for your second meeting, you both convene at his office directly after your class with him in the afternoon. You smell especially good today, a mix of jasmine, vanilla, and something else he can’t put his tongue on… but it’s got Yunho’s head a bit foggy. Still, the meeting is engaging and brimming with useful help just as the last. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a brief moment to review a printout of what you’ve implemented into your outline from your last meeting discussions. It’s definitely already an improvement, but there are still a few things that could be tweaked in terms of sectioning. He grabs his favorite pen and lays your papers out in front of you, leaning forward to mark things you should be mindful of. A circle here, a quick jotted note there—his soothing voice explains each eagerly, and you can tell just how much he loves this subject by his enthusiasm. You reply to all of his criticism and suggestions with just as much enthusiasm. Yunho finds himself leaning in a little closer than might be suitable for the circumstances, but his brain is still ensnared by your perfume. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, truthfully, but it doesn’t bother you a bit. In fact, you’re a little too enamored with watching his large hands grip his pen and flex while writing to notice he’s calling your name.
“____?” he calls for a second time, to which you finally meet his gaze while blinking bashfully. “You okay?”
“I’m sorry, I think I spaced out for a second,” you answer honestly. He is absolutely too close to you right now and the way you can see the details in his eyes is making your brain short-circuit. He finally sits back in his chair and chuckles warmly.
“We have been working for quite a while today, I’m sure it’s a lot of information. Maybe we should wrap up for the day and meet again next week? I’m a bit tied up on Friday,” he ponders. You can’t help the hint of disappointment that makes its way onto your face, and he notices. There’s this unusual feeling in his chest right now; why does he feel regret for his stupid schedule? He leans forward on his elbows and cocks his head, “You’re doing very well, you know that? We’ve made a lot of progress after only a couple of meetings. I’m very excited to see how this comes together at the end of the semester.”
“I’m very self-conscious about my writing, so I appreciate that, Mr. Jeong,” you confess with a sheepish smile.
“You have nothing to be stressed about, I love what I’ve seen so far,” he continues his praise, “And I’m very happy you’re in my class, ____.”
The smile he gives you after such a statement manifests dozens of butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but match it. These one-on-one sessions go on 2-3 days a week for about two more weeks, loosening him up to you. He successfully becomes much more casual and unfiltered in your presence before you decide to up the ante. The following Tuesday of the next week, you remain on campus fairly late after classes end for the day, seated on a bench near the parking lot you both share. It’s warm outside even with the sun gradually setting, and you spend the time mentally rehearsing exactly what you planned on saying when he arrives to leave for home. He should be here any minute now–
“_____?”
You spin around at the familiar voice calling out your name. It’s him, of course, coming from the staff meeting you found out was being held this evening. Finally , you think. He stops just short of where you’re perched on the bench.
“Oh, hello Mr. Jeong.”
“What are you doing out here so late?” He inquires quickly, and there’s a tinge of concern laced in his voice. However, he realizes that asking this might be out of the realm of things he should know, you’re a grown woman after all. So, he follows up with an excuse, “It’s getting pretty dark out.”
“It’s a bit embarrassing,” you mutter, glancing away from his gaze.
Yunho can’t deny, he’s a bit mesmerized by the way you look tonight. He’s never seen you with your make-up done up like this, or your hair styled so charmingly. When you glance back at him again with those long, fluttering lashes of yours, he feels the back of his neck turn hot.
“You can tell me anything, you already know,” he reminds you, “I won’t judge and I’m always available to listen.”
“Well… I have a reservation for dinner with someone at six… but it seems they stood me up,” you reveal while mindlessly fiddling with a frayed string on the skirt of your dress. Yunho glances down at his watch: it’s 5:48 PM. “They were supposed to pick me up a while ago. I was trying to hold out some hope, but… I’m just being stupid.”
Yunho furrows his brows; why would someone stand a girl like you up? You’re beautiful and exceptionally smart (despite any kind of trouble you may have had with your paper). You’re also one of the sweetest people he’s ever crossed paths with in life. Many of those paths having been crossed within the last month, of course. Still, he can’t fathom it.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, ____,” he tells you truthfully. Then, he thinks about how your car isn’t here, and how the shuttle won’t be around until 6:30 PM. He’s slightly apprehensive before offering, “Do you want a ride home?”
You give him a winsome smile that pierces into his heart with an invisible arrow, “You don’t have to do that. I appreciate the offer though.”
“No, really, I don’t mind at all,” he says with more confidence. The idea of him being your knight in shining armor, buried deep in the back of his head, is shouting at him. That’s when you decide it’s time to take your shot, for better or worse.
“Well, in that case, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant instead?” you inquire, glancing up at him curiously. “I already paid for the spot, so I wouldn’t want the reservation to go to waste.”
Normally, you’d follow up a statement like that with a: “But it’s okay if not.”  
Not tonight.
You didn’t want to give him an out to this proposal willingly. You can see the mild indecisiveness in his face anyway, all the way down to how Yunho’s hand tightens around the handle of his briefcase. You did get all dolled up for whoever you were supposed to be spending the evening with, and he’ll feel awfully bad letting you go back home to take it all off for no reason. It’s just a dinner, he tells himself.
“Sure,” Yunho finally says in an exhale, “Let me pull around my car.”
While he walks off into the parking lot towards his car, you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the dishonest smile that’s threatening to spread across your face. Was it all a bald-faced lie? Of course it was! But, sometimes it takes some white lies to get to what you want, and what you wanted was no longer that far out of reach if tonight was anything to go by.
When he finally pulls around to pick you up, you allow yourself to slip into the mode you usually go to on dates. It doesn’t hurt to pretend tonight, it’s like manifesting your reality. You thrum your fingers against your bare thighs, to no particular beat, while staring out of the car window at other passing cars during your brief trip on the highway.
“Is this a restaurant you’ve been to before? It looked really nice online,” Yunho eventually says into the silence, trying to make small talk. He had briefly skimmed the reviews while plugging the address in on his phone.
“I haven’t, actually,” you divulge, going further, “I’m a bit of a foodie, you know? I like to try new places occasionally.”
That conversation flows smoothly for the rest of the drive, and even smoother when you both are seated and eating dinner in a booth towards the back of the restaurant. It’s nice to see him in a more relaxed setting.
“Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Jeong.” You offer him some well-deserved gratitude as you wipe your mouth, signaling the end of your eating. “Makes things a lot less embarrassing tonight for sure.”
“No need to thank me, I enjoyed your company,” he smiles. He doesn’t even hesitate this time before adding, “That bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
The bubbly laugh and adorable smile you grant him the experience of witnessing enraptures him, the tips of his ears burning at the thought of how he wants to be able to produce that from you again and again. Yunho hasn’t been on a date in a while, so he’s sure this feeling is just because he’s attention-deprived. Still, it’s something he notes mentally. And, even though some might consider it inappropriate, you and your teacher both began having dinner occasionally, just like that. Platonically, of course.
  “We can go over my questions for my paper topic here rather than in that cramped office of yours, you know?”  
Surprisingly when you proposed this, he showed little resistance to the idea. Yunho enjoyed getting out of the house for the evenings he usually spent alone with a few beers and a Netflix series. He enjoyed having a pretty girl keep him company even more. He reminds himself every time he picks you up, though, that this is simply work and nothing more. Just some overtime—helping a student who enjoyed his class get better at the material. It’s not meant to be enjoyable.
But after the first few times of these “informational paper related” meetings, conversations involving anything to do with linguistics slowly molded into Yunho placing a nimble finger to his lips to say a silent shhh, followed by, “Let’s not talk about schoolwork tonight, okay?”
That moment, when you noticed that slight shift in Yunho’s energy, the atmosphere from there turned more informal. You become more conscious of those important invisible lines between student and teacher— or even more teacher and friend— that have begun to blur significantly. “Good evening Mr. Jeong,” became, “Le’me taste your food, Yunho?”
To which he never declines, naturally.
Tonight, on the 5th dinner, the climate between you both plows further into the downward spiral of informality, warm and fairly flirtatious. At least, that’s what you surmise by the way he keeps openly teasing you this evening. It’s all innocuous banter, but that doesn’t quell the adoration you hold for him in the pit of your stomach. It’s enough to make your thighs clench together underneath the table. You finally decide to shamelessly reciprocate, teasing him about the way his hair is going every which way tonight. You emphasize how the style is still very handsome despite him looking like he’s been through hell and back.
“I was having a pretty bad day today until I remembered where I was going tonight actually,” Yunho divulges, pushing the wrinkly sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He truly has been through hell and back today, between snooty older teachers and idiot freshmen both treating him like he’s a student just because of his age, “These kinds of nights with you always make my day, so it’s been saved.”
A playful smile tugs at your lips as you cock your head, “Is it the food or is it the company?”
He leans forward on his forearms with a prepossessing smile, one that makes your heart thump loudly in your ears.
“Both, of course,” he teases again, “I suppose the food is just a bonus, though.”
He takes notice of the way your cheeks are dusted in pink as you shyly avert your eyes and locks that innocent image into a deep chamber of his mind along with all the others. He practically has a photo album saved mentally. It’s not too long until the food comes, and things become all about eating. A fair amount of time into your dinner, you decide to add a new element to your dynamic.
“Do you mind if I drink a little tonight?” you inquire quietly while your eyes skim the wine menu briefly. Not like you were going to care about his answer, but it was simply fun to ask. He chuckles.
“You’re an adult,” he points out instead. You smile to yourself before meeting his eyes from behind the menu. There’s something especially curious tonight behind those dark irises of his. The unfamiliar stare he gives you from behind his bangs is accompanied by a subtle smirk that makes your stomach tie into tight knots.
You turn away your eyes until you’re able to catch the attention of your waiter once more. In the process of requesting a glass of some Cabernet Sauvignon, you hesitate before saying the name of which brand because of the price tag for one glass, but most risks are pricey and tonight you felt like splurging for the reward in return: releasing your inhibitions. The waiter turns towards Yunho to confirm if he’d like to add anything before he leaves.
“Bring a bottle of that instead, please. We’ll share,” he requests alternatively. It takes all of your strength not to look at him like he’s crazy as the waiter nods and heads off to fetch it.
“It’s on me tonight,” Yunho beats you to the punch on declaring anything about his decisions.
“You don’t even know the price of it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he quips back with a chuckle, “Are you suggesting I can’t afford it?”
“Yunho…”
“Don’t even give me that, ____.”
The way he blithely says your first name with a different warmth now always causes your heart to swell in your chest. All formality is truly gone between you two. You both share matching smiles in place of any further words about the matter.
When the waiter returns briefly with a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses, you both offer him words of gratitude before he slips away once more. Yunho wastes no time pouring you both a proper amount, sighing contently when finished. You lift your glass towards him and grin once more, “Cheers?”
“Cheers.”
Yunho surely got his money’s worth, because the bottle is gone between you both quickly, signaling the end of your dinner as well. You don’t feel the few glasses fully set in until Yunho is helping you out of the booth, your legs feeling akin to a newborn baby deer as you bashfully stumble into his arms. You suppose your food wasn’t as carb-heavy as usual tonight. You’re not drunk, but surely you’re not sober either. He doesn’t mind holding you steady on the way out of the restaurant, a guiding hand timidly pressed to the small of your back.
As much as you despise the thought of driving under the influence, it’s pouring an insane amount of rain upon exit of the restaurant and Yunho insists he’s fine enough to drive. The dilemma that arises is how your place is further than he has confidence in making it to in this storm while inebriated. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way he’s driving you home tonight.
“I have a spare bedroom,” he begins, and glances over at you, hoping you understand what he means because he’s not sober enough to come up with the words to ask you otherwise. The pouring water is making it hard for him to keep his eyes open but he doesn’t miss the feigning look of indecision in your eyes. He tries to ignore the way the rain has soaked through your dress enough to make it plaster your body. It accentuates every contour of your figure, from the rounds of your breasts down to your supple thighs. When the boom of thunder somewhere far off fills the silence after his proposal faster than you do, he panics slightly.
“I can get you an Uber if—”
“You already paid for an expensive bottle tonight, don’t waste more money on an Uber,” you grasp onto his arm fondly, sopping breasts squished into his bicep. Your lips curl into a soft smile at his attempt at chivalry though, “I’ll be fine. Let’s hurry though, okay? I’m cold.”
That statement is followed by a sharp shiver running down your back, and that’s enough for him to drag you along with him to his car with quick, but careful, steps.
Surprisingly, Yunho lives in a townhouse. You’re very thankful not to have to walk up the stairs of a condo. He thanks God there’s an empty parking space in front of his house, he hates when the tiny lot fills up before he gets home. You both prepare yourselves before rushing out of the car and to his front door.
Your hazy eyes train themselves on his pretty, slender fingers fiddling with the doorknob before he finally gets it open. Those same fingers grab your hand and pull you through his front door with him mindlessly. Another chill immediately runs down your spine at the cool AC blasting through his home, which he immediately runs off to turn down.
“Both bedrooms have bathrooms with showers,” Yunho sputters while quickly heading off to find you a towel and some spare clothes for which you could sleep in.
While you’re still peeling your drenched shoes and socks off, he settles on a fresh t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants since it’s still a bit chilly in the house. You try not to track too much water through his home while you journey through his living room and meet him halfway.
“I’ll shower in the guest room,” you tell him, taking the items.
He runs an anxious hand through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, “I can also dry your clothes if you leave them on the bed.”
“Fuck, that’s great,” you sigh with a smile, stepping past him but cocking your head back to add, “Wait about five minutes before you come grab them, I should be in the shower by then.”
Just as you requested, Yunho comes into the room a little over five minutes later when he hears the shower running. His eyes confirm that the bathroom door is closed for your privacy before grabbing your wet clothes and retreating to his laundry room down the hall. He chucks them all in his dryer and runs it on medium heat and maximum dryness. While that’s running, he busies himself with running to his bedroom and speedrunning his shower to ensure he’s out before you. He’s a man on a mission, pulling on clothes and towel-drying his hair before rushing to the laundry room to get your clothes.
Yunho pulls your garments from the dryer one by one, making sure there’s nothing left wet. He stops when he pulls something out that catches his eyes. Your underwear. He’s quite enticed by them, even if they were pastel pink with turtles... Hot, he thinks sarcastically. Yunho eyes the crotch curiously and remembers that technically he didn’t wash your clothes at all. It’s been a while since he’s had a girl over his home and that, on top of the thought of even holding your underwear, is taking a small toll on him. He gives in and puts them to his nose, breathing in deeply.
Oh God … Even after they've been soaked in rain, your scent is still heavy on the fabric. He groans, why did you have to smell so fucking good? He remembers that you are quite literally right down the hall while he's here sniffing your underwear like a pervert. It’s your fault, right? Yeah, it’s your fault for trusting him with such a sensitive piece of clothing by himself. It’s your fault for smelling so good and looking so pretty and—
He gives up on rationalizing it and presses the clothing fully onto his face again, inhaling heavily and feeling himself grow harder and harder by the second. His arousal grows worse and worse, precum dampening his underwear with every deep inhale and fluttering thought of what you probably taste like… He finds his hand mindlessly palming himself, and luckily his groans are muffled by the underwear bunched up in his face. That’s when he hears the water shut off.
Yunho whispers a handful of obscenities as he hurries to the room to place your dried clothes on the bed while you’re still in the bathroom, closing the door behind him softly. He’s long gone by the time you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
Normally, you’d stay in the shower until your fingertips are pruney, but you suppose being a good guest includes not using up all of his hot water. There were more pressing things to attend to anyway, like the tall attractive man patiently awaiting your presence outside of this room. So, when you tug on your now dry panties and his previously provided clothing, you quickly make your way out of the room and to the living room. You’re not exactly sure what you expected upon seeing him, but he’s indeed still exceptionally handsome freshly out of the shower. Those same curious eyes gaze at you behind his shaggy bangs, still in the process of drying. Clad in a simple white t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts, his biceps and strong thighs are fully on display as he lounges on the couch. The way his long legs are man-spread now that he’s comfortable in his own abode makes you swallow a little harder than usual. Still, you meander over and sit on the other side of the couch, not too far away.
“Your place is very nice,” you state absentmindedly, glancing around at the walls of his home. “Very fit for a bachelor.”
Without you noticing, Yunho’s eyes skillfully study the way you’re so casually in his clothing. You’re too busy glancing around at unnecessary things anyway; he wonders if you’re rambling about his decor because you’re nervous. He’s nervous too, but not for the right reasons. Regardless, seeing you in his clothing is taking an additional toll on his mental health. How did you both end up in this situation together… This is wrong, he thinks. He shakes his head to try and clear those corrupted thoughts from his mind. It isn’t until you realize he hasn’t replied to anything in a couple of minutes of you jabbering that you finally peer over at him. His eyes are trained on the short distance between the both of you, mindlessly chewing on the nail of his thumb.
“You okay?” you ask, finally catching his attention.
He nods hastily, “Definitely. Sorry, it’s been a long day. Mind is on empty.”
“You’re fine, no worries.”
It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as you both exchange stares. You’re seconds away from breaking the silence before Yunho steals the chance.
“I’m sure you’re tired, so we can head to bed,” he suddenly exhales, hands clasping his thighs, “The guest room is all yours for as long as you need it.”
You take the chance and lean forward toward him on your palms at this statement, slightly sinking into the couch while you gaze at him, “Is that what you really want, Yunho?”
There’s now an even longer moment of silence where you both stare each other in the eyes again and the room is unbearably quiet. Yunho finally breaks it after his Adam’s apple bobs uneasily.
“Of course,” he awkwardly chuckles with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, ____?”
Your heart deflates. For a second, you wonder if maybe you’ve been reading his body language incorrectly the entire night. There’s a flare of embarrassment that ignites on your cheeks as you immediately retract yourself.
“I suck at making jokes,” you match his chuckle nervously, “Don’t mind me.” He cocks his head at you curiously and you stand to your feet before he can catch the way your face is lighting on fire with every passing second. You avoid looking at him as you begin striding back to the guest room, “Goodnight Yunho, see you in the morning!”
Yunho is left alone to his own devices once he hears the sound of the door to the guest room closing down the hall. Sitting alone on a large bed in your teacher’s home feels surreal, and all too disappointing the same. You press your palms to your eyes to try and settle the embarrassment that keeps washing over you every time you think back to your impromptu attempt at making an advance toward him. God this fucking sucks…
After a few minutes of setting up some alarms on your phone for the next morning, you decide you need to go get some water and wash away tonight from your mind forever. Yunho Jeong doesn’t like you more than a friend, it’s time to accept your fate and that you failed at attracting him. To be fair, it all was a shot in the dark to begin with. You try not to be too hard on yourself and hope that he’s already in his room by now.
But, if that’s all truly the case, then why is Yunho standing in front of the guest room door when you open it? His arm is positioned as if he was about to knock. Yunho had been standing there for quite some minutes, debating his next actions in his head, overthinking as usual. Though, could it be considered overthinking if the consequences of his actions could lead to delinquency? Had you not opened the door to go get water, albeit unknowingly, he probably would’ve psyched himself out.
“Oh– Did you need something?” you mumble and look up inquisitively at him. His mouth lingers open for a few seconds before he learns how to speak again.
“Can we talk?”
“Of course.” You can’t help the hint of confusion gracing your face as you step aside and allow him inside the room, “Is everything okay?”
When you close the door and face him, he looks distraught. Everything was indeed not okay.
“Are you still drunk?” He asks first.
“I don’t really think I was ever drunk,” you tell him, “But no.”
“Neither am I.”
At first, it doesn’t click about why he’s confirming this. You also don’t notice the way he gradually takes tentative steps forward—or the way you’re equally taking steps back—until your back hits the bedroom door. He’s so close that you can smell the minty mouthwash still fresh on his breath unfurling over your face. Still, he looks hesitant about his actions.
“I’m sorry, I was just… nervous before,” he swallows. He watches your face shift from confusion to realization; he’s referring to his response when you shot your shot. You relax against the door.
“About?” Is all you can ask in a soft voice, left hand daringly reaching up and cupping his cheek.
“About drunken words,” he continues, his voice just above a whisper. You can see the stutter of his heart against his chest. “And my feelings.”
Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, “What are you feeling, Yunho?”
In a moment of fleeting courage, he gently grabs your right hand and leads it to settle below his groin, pressing it against him a bit for good measure.
“What does it feel like I’m feeling to you?”
Your cheeks heat up at the feeling of him in your palm; you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it out of nowhere. The overall anticipation of the situation is killing you, even though everything feels like it’s moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time. All of your effort was leading to this point and yet, somehow, you still don’t feel nearly as prepared as you thought you were to finally fuck him, to finally fuck your teacher. That doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around nothing at all at his words alone, because this is definitely what you’ve wanted so badly for weeks.
You try to swallow even though your throat feels parched, mindlessly whispering, “Oh my God…”
Then, you give him an experimental squeeze which has his eyelids fluttering closed, and a deep grunt leaving his flared nostrils.
“Fuck …” he groans. It’s too natural, the way you subconsciously run your hand up and down the bulge, feeling it harden even further. Yunho is at his wit's end. “I need you to tell me exactly what you want ____,” he reminds you.
You get it, he’s covering his bases because of his relation to you outside of this bedroom. Consent is sexy regardless, so you grant that to him.
“I really, really want you to fuck me Yunho,” you purr as your hands creep up his chest until you can wrap your arms around his neck, “And I think you want the same, right?”
Yunho’s hands sneak under the t-shirt on you and he massages the flesh of your sides, fingertips ghosting up your skin until they reach your breasts. His thumbs brushing against your hard nipples involuntarily make you whimper his name, and this is all Yunho needs to hear to proceed without such caution. The moment he leans down and smashes his lips to yours, time stops.
It’s nasty, the way your tongues are dragging against each other, spreading trails of saliva everywhere.
It’s nasty, the way he can’t help but drag that same tongue down your neck, sullying your freshly washed skin with spit.
It’s even nastier, the way he moans out your name, shamelessly grinding his clothed boner into your crotch, searching for friction because he’s touch-starved.
“A-Ah—wait! Bed, please,” you let out a broken moan at the way he sucks and bites on your neck. Yunho grunts in agreement, spinning you around and forcefully guiding you back until you both reach the bed. You can’t help but giggle when you fall back on the mattress— he’s so hungry for it, for you. And you’re more than ready to give it to him.
“Can I take them off?” He still asks like a gentleman, though his fingers are impatiently already tugging at the bottom of your sweatpants. You nod with fervor.
The moment he tosses them away, the situation begins to feel a bit more real to you both. Maybe it’s because you’re sopping wet and semi-exposed, and he’s not, so you become bashful and self-conscious.
“Take yours off too?”
Yunho doesn’t hesitate to oblige you. He peels off his shirt and shoves his shorts away easily. There’s a brief second where he hesitates before also pulling his boxer briefs down and finally fully exposing himself to you in all his nude glory. Yunho hasn’t slept with a woman in a while, but he’s never had complaints about anything, and especially not his size. He can tell by how your eyes are drinking him in, that you won’t have any either.
“You’re so handsome, you know that?” you murmur, eyes hazy as they rake over him from his broad chest to his defined abs, then his defined hips to his heavy cock. There’s a cute hue of pink dusting his cheeks at the compliment.
Yunho doesn’t give you a chance to stare at him very much longer before he’s finally ridding you of your shirt, lips meeting yours again the moment it’s tossed. It’s not long before that naughty mouth of his indulges in your breasts, licking and sucking on your hardened nipples like they’re the only thing that will keep him grounded to earth. You’re a moaning mess underneath of him, hands carding through his tresses and lips struggling with telling him how much you love his mouth. He could suck on your beautiful breasts all day but there are more pressing matters at this time.
His eyes never leave yours as he kisses all the way down the expanse of your stomach to the waistband of your panties. Only then does he close his eyes to bury his face in your clothed cunt and take a deep breath, filling his lungs until they feel like they're about to burst. He’s so content that now he can do it knowing the real thing is right underneath. It gets him hard all the same as the laundry room. You watch him grind himself into the mattress for some relief just at the smell of you.
“I’ve never done something like this before,” he divulges, pressing heated kisses into the skin of your sensitive thighs.
“What, eating pussy?” you tease to ease his nerves. He stares pointedly at you from behind your mound.
“You know what I mean.”
Your hand reaches down to find a comforting purchase in his hair, “Neither have I, Yu.”
Yunho can feel himself falling apart faster and faster, and the nickname is not helping him keep it together at all. He hooks his fingers in your panties and gently tugs them down your legs, joining the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor. Your cheeks tingle with heat when his hands spread your legs wider, eyes seemingly mesmerized.
“Such a pretty pussy…” he whispers, marveling at the way your sticky lips tremble when you clench around nothing.
He solves that by pushing in two of those pretty fingers of his, all the way down to the last knuckles. The desperate moan that flies from your lips sends him into a depraved headspace. He immediately latches his mouth onto your throbbing clit and sets to work, thrusting into your squelching squeezing heat and sucking to his heart’s content. Yunho loves eating pussy, truly. There’s something truly cathartic to him about holding a woman’s legs down while she twitches and grinds against his face as he’s slurping up every bit of essence that seeps from her greedy hole. He even removes his fingers and opts for lapping at your heat like a starved man instead. Up and down, left and right… His tongue leaves no inch of your heat untouched. He loves the feeling of your slick coating his face when he pushes his tongue as deep as he can into your hole. He feels your hands yank him by his hair before he can even get to the fun part. He gazes up at you in confusion, mouth messy and eyes indubitably pussy-drunk.
“Please,” you beg, chest heaving, “I want you inside.”
Yunho licks his lips clean before crawling back up your body to fulfill your request. You’re right honestly, there’s only so much grinding he can do into the mattress to ease the ache of his hard cock. He leans over to grab a condom from the nightstand but you pull him back over, mumbling about how you’re on the pill and that it’s fine.
He’s so big, the way he’s engulfing your whole body with you caged between his arms like this. Gazing into your eyes, he drags the blunt tip of his cock back and forth through your dripping folds, occasionally pressing it hard against that clit that he’s taken such a liking to sucking on.
“Hey,” you mumble against his lips, catching the full attention of his blown-out irises. “I can tell you’re nervous. Just relax and lose control, for me. Okay?”
Yunho’s last rope of restraint snaps.
The moment you feel his tip finally breach your entrance, you squeeze your eyes shut and mewl at the feeling of his thick cock sliding into its rightful place. Yes, obviously he’s meant just for your cunt, because you fit like a glove when you're swallowing him in so badly the deeper he pushes. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt, despite your squirming and twitching underneath him at the feeling of being so full.  
“I’m about to move,” he pants, adjusting to the feeling of your warm walls squeezing his cock, “Holy fuck.”
When you nod, he finally lets go of his inhibitions. He begins to roll his hips at a nice steady pace, large hands clasped to the backs of your thighs as he pushes them towards your torso. His mouth hangs open in ecstasy and his eyelids lower lazily at the way your walls suck in his cock so tightly and squeeze it like they’re begging to be filled to the brim. You reach up and latch onto his arms to ground yourself, head dizzy and overwhelmed at the feeling of him starting to snap his hips just a little faster now that you’re stretched out a bit more to accommodate him.
“Yunho, fuck, you’re so big,” you whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. Yunho grinds his pelvis into you at this remark, rubbing against your clit with his happy trail.
“And you’re taking me so well,” Yunho praises with a lopsided grin, “Feels good?”
“So fucking good.”
Yunho pushes your legs back even further as he leans in to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. You’re so pretty with those glassy eyes and those flushed cheeks of yours, but there’s something about that that quivering bottom lip that makes him want to suck every sound from you himself. He finds himself bucking faster and faster, unable to maintain any kind of self-control.
He breaks away to catch his breath, eyes lazy as he groans, “Let me hear you. This is what you wanted, yeah?”
“Mhm, yes, yes,” you whine desperately, “I wanted it so bad. Wanted you so bad.”
You grant him a flurry of shameless bitten-off moans, egging him on further and further. Yunho buries his face into the crook of your neck, making your skin damp between his own warm gasps and grunting obscenities. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this aroused before; yes, he’s so painfully hard at the fleeting thoughts of how inappropriate everything is. He’s your linguistics teacher—he’s not supposed to be teaching your cunt how to mold to the shape of his cock. He’s not supposed to be massaging your clit and babbling nonsense about how he’s going to lick your pussy clean when you cum. How can he say that to a student? However, his eyes roll back at that thought.
“I’m going crazy,” he groans into your skin, mindlessly speaking his thoughts aloud. “I’m so close.”
You’d say the same if you could, but your mouth can’t form proper words with the way his long fingers are rubbing quick messy circles around your clit. Instead, you put your mouth on the shell of his ear and say his name in a filthy mewl. Your legs tense up and your toes curl; Yunho can feel you cum around his cock a beat later, encouraging your convulsing and whimpering. He can only manage to give you a few more rough thrusts before he pulls himself out and allows himself to empty his balls in quick spurts all over your torso, a mix of “fuck” and “____” leaking from his mouth at how filthy the action is, dirtying you like this. He’s a man of his word though, quickly hefting himself back down to your sopping cunt and diving face first to taste everything he missed tasting earlier. The groan of pure bliss he lets out into your sensitive cunt has you squirming away, much to his dismay. But he finds himself chuckling anyway—he got to taste your cum and, even if it was for only a few seconds, he’s satisfied.
Cleaning up and cuddling after is far from awkward, Yunho feels comfortable with his arms wrapped around you and head on your chest. You find yourself mindlessly scratching his scalp and playing with his messy hair, while his large hands massage the muscles of your thighs. It’s immensely intimate, and this scares Yunho deep inside. Unbeknownst to his stress, you’re settling into a mental state of bliss; you can’t wait to see where this night leads you after, even if it might be a little awkward back in the classroom at first. He tries not to dwell on such thoughts for too long, eventually falling asleep under your touch.
Yunho wakes up to a cold, empty bed. Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he catches some time he can’t be bothered with reading fully, nine-something-in-the-morning. He groans internally at the bittersweet arrival of the morning. After a few seconds of just lying there, bleary eyes staring at anything and everything, he remembers that he’s not supposed to be alone right now. The grimace that crosses his face is heavy.
He lugs himself up and out of bed to find his phone, which he’s left God knows where. After a bit of searching, he’s even more upset to see a lack of text from you about leaving. Leaving with no word after sex… Yunho has been in this position before and it makes him feel like shit. It feels even worse considering that this is not just some random woman, you are his student. He’s a chronic overthinker, he knows he is. Yet, he can’t stop his mind from filling with a plethora of miserable thoughts about what this could mean.
Did you simply want to fuck him and nothing more?
Did you regret sleeping with him and want to leave without confrontation?
Did you sleep with him to then leave and tell someone, maybe to humiliate him?
All of these thoughts scream at Yunho until he finds himself clenching his jaw, and tears are pricking at his eyes. He hates this feeling every time it happens; it makes him feel like he’s not good enough. In a moment of brief irrationality, Yunho debates if he should outright block you.
He’s impulsive like that when he’s worked up. However, after a few minutes of begging himself to calm down, he tossed his phone away and went on to make a cup of tea to ease his agitation. He knew this was a mistake from the start and he still did it.
He doesn’t get a text from you until after 11 AM.
  [Y/N: sorry for leaving without saying anything!! I forgot I had prior commitments this morning, didn’t wanna text you until I was sure you’d be up. hope you slept well :)]
Yunho doesn’t know what to think. Prior commitments? Surely this would’ve been something you would’ve mentioned before he drove you to his home last night. It is Saturday though, so it’s plausible. He opens the message and leaves you on read instead.
Earlier this morning, you were certain Yunho must have completely tired himself out after sleeping with you because he failed to wake up when your alarms went off. You make a mental note that it only takes him cumming once to make him go comatose (and maybe a little wine to boot). You had left his place with no ill intentions, and your message was truthful. So, when you get left on read by him, it ignites a small flame of insecurity in you. You’re never one to double-text a man, but considering this is something you put a great amount of effort into getting to happen, you put your pride aside when you don't get a reply by the next day.
  [Y/N: Wondering if you want to try a new restaurant after work tomorrow… Let me know if you’re interested!]
To your surprise, Yunho replies that he’s too busy. He doesn’t offer to reschedule for a better day, which isn’t like him. Instead of taking it too seriously and replying something disheartened, you let him know that you understand and to let you know if anything changes. He opens this message and doesn’t reply. You try again on Tuesday. This time, your inquiry is more succinct, no fluff.
  [Y/N: Are you free Wednesday?]
He answers this similarly to the last attempt, maintaining that he’s too busy to see you that day as well. However, this text is more curt than the last. When you cave in and ask him which days he’s not busy, he leaves you on read, again.
  [Y/N: Do you have a free moment to talk then?]
Yunho doesn’t open this text altogether, and the disgruntlement this stirs within you lingers in your system all day, even when you decide to go out with your friends to clear your mind.
Throughout his class with you the following day, you endure Yunho’s eyes practically boring into you at various points in time. It’s like an itch that can’t be scratched, nagging at your scalp while you keep your head downcast towards your laptop. Thoroughly, as distractions do, it keeps you on edge and unfocused throughout the whole lecture. It doesn’t help that Yeosang is out today, so you feel alone even surrounded by so many people.
At some point, during a quiet moment of everyone completing an individual assignment he had handed out, you glance up over the screen of your laptop and catch his attentive eyes gazing back. He gnaws on the nail of this thumb as he usually does when his brain is on overdrive, his eyes calmly lingering on the fixation of all his thoughts. Eventually, he turns them away and decides to focus on something else irrelevant involving his phone. Anything to take you off of his mind.
You quietly snicker to yourself and roll your eyes. So, he can play on his phone just fine during class but can’t find the time to text you and talk? Men will be men… If he just wanted to sleep with you and leave at that, he could at least tell you, you brood. You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard to focus on anything for the last half hour of class. You don’t bother sticking around after and instead, preoccupy yourself by striking up a conversation with another acquaintance on the way out of the doors. Yunho notices the way you act like he doesn’t exist while leaving and it makes him a bit bitter. He knows it’s irrational, but you’ve really done a number on him, so he can’t help it.
On Thursday, you’re sick of the games altogether. Being the super sleuth you were at the beginning of this mess, you knew when Yunho typically went to his office in between classes to get grading done that he couldn’t do throughout the day. So, when you finish your mathematics class, you pack up your things quickly, knowing he should be roaming this same hall in very little time. There’s one thing–or person, you suppose–that you didn’t account for in this plan.
“You’re terrible at covering hickeys, you know,” Hongjoong chides, eyeing your messy job at applying makeup to your neck.
To be fair to yourself, you hadn’t realized Yunho had sucked one onto your skin the night you both slept together, and the dark blotch was too annoying to deal with every single day. You bruise too easily and they don’t go away fast enough. Admittedly, you had slacked off on the cover-up today. You chalk it up to secretly being in Fight Club, which you remind him, the number rule is to never talk about Fight Club! That, of course, was not a good enough reason for Hongjoong, and you regret that you didn’t acknowledge beforehand he would surely grill you endlessly about your recreational pastimes.
“Okay seriously, I just wore my choker too tight yesterday and it pinched my neck, that's all,” you explain as he quickly follows you out of the classroom. He squints at you with skeptical eyes, as if he is not believing any of the piping hot shit you’re serving him on a platter. Phase two was to gaze at him with winsome eyes, ones he was definitely familiar with. They always worked on Yeosang, but Hongjoong was harder to subdue.
“Don’t.”
“Joong, I’m telling you, there’s nothing more for me to answer here.”
You employ a small pout to boot.
“And you think I believe that?”
“I think you should believe it.”
He rolls his eyes in annoyance. Meanwhile, your eyes inconspicuously search for Yunho in the sea of classmates flooding the hallway; there was a very important conversation you had hyped yourself up to finally have with him. One that surely would not be done if it didn’t get done today, at this very moment. That would obviously fail to happen if Hongjoong kept pestering you with his concerns. Suddenly, your eyes spot the tail end of Yunho’s styled hair turning the corner and leaving the hallway. Goddammit!
“Joong, I really gotta go,” you say frantically and secure your backpack onto your back. His lips open slightly in puzzlement, but there’s nothing he can say before you’re already shoving people out of the way to make it through the hallway to follow him to his office.
You take the stairs while he takes the elevator to waste some time; hopefully, he'll be set up and comfortable by the time you get to his floor. When you make it to his office, he’s indeed already seated and filtering through sheets of work from students during the last class. You don’t bother knocking before entering; he hadn’t afforded you the comfort of manners lately, so neither would you.
Honestly, had anyone else burst into his office so unannounced like this, he might've cussed them out by accident. But before he can get any words out, you can see the physical shift from annoyance to puzzlement wash over his face as he realizes it’s you, then, genuine dread graces his face before downcasting his gaze.
“I need to talk to you,” you insist, “Now.”
He’s having a hard time even meeting your eyes when you’re speaking and it’s pissing you off tremendously.
“I’m a bit busy right now,” he sighs, now in the process of looking through his desk for a pen that works. “It’ll have to wait for another time.”
You ignore him entirely, “Why are you avoiding me, Yunho?”
“I’m not avoiding you,” Yunho quickly objects. “I’m just–”
“You’ve blown me off twice this week already,” you counter. “Now I can’t even come see you at your office?”
Yunho puts his head in his hands and tries to collect his thoughts. He’s too sensitive to handle this conversation with no preparation beforehand. Then again, the longer he keeps isolating, the longer he’s going to keep feeling like shit. He can hear the undertone of hurt in your words, but he’s only doing what’s best for you, right?
“The least you could do is give me a real reason,” you continue. He finally lifts his head and meets your frustrated eyes. “Just give me a real reason to and I’ll fuck-off all you want.”
“____, that night was a mistake,” he tells you simply. The look in his eyes says otherwise. You know he’s lying but it still feels like a punch in the gut.
“A mistake?”
“It’s something that shouldn’t have happened, and it was inappropriate of me to do that with you. Let’s just forget about it and move on, please.”
You furrow your brows in agitation, “You really feel that way?”
“I do,” he murmurs, eyes falling back to the papers in front of him. He visibly hesitates for the briefest moment before picking up his pen and resuming his grading. This feeling of rejection hurts a little more than usual. Why do you feel like a failure? Why do you feel like a fuck-up? Maybe it’s because of the effort you put into this man, unlike many others. You stand there in his doorway uncomfortably silent until you find it in yourself to offer some final words.
“We’re both adults, Yunho,” you remind him in a voice that airs on the more serious side of yourself. He’s never heard you sound such a way with him. “No one has to know what two grown adults do in their free time. And you don’t owe anyone any explanations.”
When he doesn’t look up from his paperwork anymore, you finally leave and gently close the door behind you.
Nearly a week after that day, your phone begins to ring while you’re out at a bar with friends. Yeosang’s nosy eyes catch the name on the screen and he gives you an incredulous look. His name still has a heart beside it and you haven’t updated him on anything regarding Yunho since telling him that you both were texting each other outside of class.
“What is he doing calling you at 9 PM, miss?” he teases as you move your phone to your lap, “Booty call?”
“Would you like to ask him yourself?” you snort.
“Boo, why can I never know anything–”
“Oh but when I mention the obvious hickey, I’m imagining things, huh?” Hongjoong interjects with narrowed eyes when he overhears you both bickering. “Who’s the mystery man?”
“It’s nobody,” both you and Yeosang say in unison.
Hongjoong quirks a brow at how you both are gazing at him with matching smiles, suspiciously. He lets it go quickly and instead butts into Mingi and his girlfriend’s conversation. By the time you glance at your phone, Yunho’s call has already gone fully unanswered. Subsequently, you chose not to return the call later when you’re done and home. You didn’t necessarily want to talk to someone who called such an intimate moment with you a mistake. And especially not intoxicated. If he wants to talk to me that bad, he’d just send whatever he needs to say in a text, you tell yourself. But, of course, those texts don’t come. Yunho doesn’t know how to express himself like that over message. However, after getting wasted, it takes everything within you not to text him first in a fit of overwhelming horniness. What’s the worst that could come from letting him know that you’re craving the feeling of that thick cock of his splitting you open, or how maybe this time you should test out your gag reflex? Yeosang knows you well enough to take your phone from you after a certain amount of shots, so you don’t get that opportunity anyway. God bless your best friend.
A couple of days later, you still find yourself unable to let things go. How can you when Yeosang brings it up any time you speak alone? For someone so sure you were making a huge mistake, he sure is desperate for the tea. It’s like he’s your frontline cheerleader (which he usually is anyway). If he found out you both fucked, surely he’d lose his mind.
“You can’t keep me in the dark, I’m still dying to know how much progress you’re making with Mr. Jeong after seeing him call you that night,” Yeosang pleads, “Have you both met up in private off of campus yet?”
“That’s classified info,” you state and try to stifle your subsequent laughter when you hear him grumble. You still hadn’t found it within yourself yet to tell him that your plan had failed. “You’ll know by if I pass this class or not.”
“Just a little hint, please? I’m on my knees.”
“Progress is being made, Yeo,” you disclose in a sing-song voice. Surely a little white lie wouldn’t hurt in the meantime, “He’s a very good conversationalist, you know. With that deep voice of his, and especially late at night.”
Yeosang groans in annoyance, “You’re killing me ____, I’m too curious! You didn’t entertain a single man at the bar, something juicy has to be happening.”
You debate on at least telling him about the extra study sessions you and Yunho had been having before things were soiled, the innocent stuff that he could gush and tease you over. But, just as you’re about to say something, he cuts you off unknowingly.
“Shit, Mingi’s calling. Le’me call you back,” Yeosang groans, and you offer a hum of affirmation before the line clicks. Maybe it’s for the best that you had been interrupted before you put your foot in your mouth.
You quickly fill the silence by shuffling one of your ‘Doing Chores’ playlists and focusing your mind on cooking the remainder of your dinner. A couple of minutes later, the chime of your phone interrupts your music. You continue to focus on stirring while your other hand carelessly presses the answer option.
“That was quick,” you giggle.
“Felt like forever to me,” a familiar, deep voice replies. You freeze and glance over to see Yunho’s name on the screen of your phone in place of your best friend’s.
  Fuck.
“Good evening, Mr. Jeong,” you reply instead. “I thought you were someone else, my apologies.”
“Have we really already reverted back to the formalities?” he sighs and his voice already sounds a bit defeated.
You roll your eyes, “I’m a bit preoccupied right now. So unless you’d like to discuss my class work, I don’t have time to entertain this.”
“Just give me five minutes, please.”
You turn off the stove and snatch up your phone before ambling to your bedroom.
“Spit it out already, Yunho.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you ____,” he admits.
Hearing you say his first name makes him feel a smidge better, even if it’s in irritation. He wonders if you can feel his heart pounding through the speaker or the way it makes his fingers tremble while holding the phone. “I was just scared, you have to understand that at least. I told you I’ve never done that kind of thing before, ever.”
“Thought it was a mistake–”
“I only said that because you left without saying anything. I thought you regretted it!”
“I literally told you why I did that, you decided to not believe me apparently,” you counter, voice laced with the slightest bit of frustration as you sit on your bed. Then you add in a mutter, “Instead of talking with me like an adult.”
There’s a long moment of silence. He doesn’t hang up though, so neither do you. You stare at the timer under his name, continuing to count up seconds full of emptiness.
“I’m really sorry,” Yunho finally sighs. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. I was just scared.” You remain silent and it eats at his confidence slowly. He’s desperate and doesn’t really care if it shows at this point, so he goes on to fill the silence again, “You were right, we’re adults. It’s not anybody else’s business what happens outside of campus. That’s why I’m trying to fix things now. Please.”
You sigh heavily while stroking your temples. This conversation is not something you had prepared yourself for, but the desperation in his voice is hitting you right in the gut. You know he’s being sincere, but it’s just hard to make yourself that vulnerable as well. You both know the truth is that it’s not okay, none of this is. It’s all extremely inappropriate. What you are doing with each other could ruin both of your lives if found out before you graduate. It’s risky; and yet, you still find yourself saying a sentence you definitely shouldn’t be saying:
“Listen, I genuinely like you Yunho.”
“And I genuinely like you too, ____. So let me take you on a proper date,” he says a little too hastily, but he can’t stop himself from the excitement that bubbles inside of him, stemming solely from you even reciprocating his feelings, “And not just a dinner like usual, I mean something thoughtful.”
“Something thoughtful…” you repeat after him, accidentally punctuating it with a giggle at how foolish the whole situation seems. “Are you serious about that?”
“Absolutely,” he assures you, “Only if you want to, of course.”
You sigh and smile to yourself at how heartfelt he sounds. Sure, there are millions of ways this could go extremely wrong, but you decide to ignore those thoughts and take him up on his offer. If you were one to listen to the better part of your judgment, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation in the first place. It would be a shame to let that work you put in go to waste just because of a little hiccup in the road. Besides, Yunho was surely the best fuck you had received in quite some time. There was plenty of time through the rest of the semester to explore that side of him again as well. The conversation ends with you both agreeing to meet with each other in a few days, Yunho promising to make it enjoyable even though it’ll be discrete.
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♡ taglist for those who replied to my interest post: @yeos-bunny @sharksandminhos @sannieluvrr
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
Text
A Series of Firsts
𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.
𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
No warnings. Just pure fluff. Mentions of pregnancy. Dad girl Miguel. Protective dad Miguel.
First Kick
“What colour should we have on the walls?” Miguel asked one day.
“Beige?”
“Boring.”
“Red?”
“Too much.”
“Red and blue?”
“That’s too… spidey.”
You giggled at his remark. “We’ll just pick a neutral one and let her decide as she grows up.”
“That’s settled, then,” he murmured, resting the side of his head on your baby bump as both of you lay comfortably on the bed.
“Fingers crossed for a zebra pattern in purple and green,” you teased.
“She can have whatever she wants,” he said simply and you knew he meant it.
Warmth spread in your heart, realising Miguel would give her anything she’d ask for. Even the moon.
As you rolled a single strand of his hair around your finger, you gasped abruptly and halted.
Miguel shot up straight in full alert mode. “What is it? Are you okay?”
You nodded, running both hands along your belly, waiting to feel it once more.
He immediately picked up on the meaning of your sudden silence and placed a splattered hand next to yours.
It didn’t take long for a second kick to be felt and you watched his face awe. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” you whispered adoringly at his concern.
He paused briefly. “That was a strong kick.”
You placed your hand atop his. “She’ll take after you, then.”
First Time Meeting
Jessica placed the little bundle of joy into his arms as soon as the spider-nurses were done checking the vitals and dressing her.
“What is this?” Miguel asked with a light scowl, shifting to have the sleeping baby face you.
Even through your post-labour exhaustion you managed to giggle.
She was dressed in a red and blue suit-like onesie that had Peter’s face printed onto the fabric as rainbow coloured words read ‘my 1st spider suit’.
“Remind again me why we let him choose.”
“You know how Peter is,” you said softly. “It’s a very cute gift.”
“Right.”
Miguel didn’t seem all that convinced, but brought her back against his chest protectively.
You watched as Miguel’s hardened face immediately softened in adoration and, for a couple of minutes, he just stood there, rocking her lightly in his arms.
“She’s… tiny,” he concluded, fingers probing around her hand. “She’s perfect.”
He raised her slowly up to his face and he planted a soft kiss to her forehead, earning a sudden yawn.
“Welcome home,” he whispered to her, completely transfixed. “I’ll always protect you.”
Something inside you stirred. This big grumpy man with volatile moods had just been disarmed by a tiny baby.
That was definitely a sight to behold.
First Sleepless Night
“We’re not having another baby.”
“Agreed.”
“Ever.”
Miguel let out a measured sigh in agreement. “Ever.”
The two of you lay sprawled across the large bed, facing the ceiling as the first rays of sunshine began to lit up the room.
Your daughter had finally fallen asleep after hours of fighting against it, nearly driving both of you crazy in the process.
As you readied yourself to slide off the mattress, you felt Miguel’s hold on your wrist stilling you.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Please.”
You groaned inwardly. “I need to go pee, Miguel.”
Sleepy and bloodshot eyes met yours. “It took us hours to drain her energy… hold it in for a while,” now that was a desperate tone if you’d ever heard one from him.
You heaved a long and heavy sigh, feeling his thumb gently rubbing at your pulse point in sheer gratitude.
“Yup. No more babies, O’Hara.”
“Maybe one more?”
You shot him a death glare and he swallowed hard.
“… or not.”
First Scare
You paced around the apartment, having already lost count of the amount of baby monitors that Miguel had spread all over the place.
“This is a bit too much, no?”
Miguel was checking on the sleeping baby through the orange-tinted screen of his dimensional travel watch when he turned to glare at you like you had just said the most abominable thing ever.
“You can never be too careful,” he said in disbelief.
It was to be expected, really. Miguel was always obsessed with security no matter the context, so you couldn’t really say this surprised you.
“Even the watch?” you asked in awe.
“Of course. It’s a looped system that transmits directly to both our watches,” he said with a nod. “Any alteration in her bedroom trigers an alarm.”
Ever the scientist.
His eyes dropped to the hologram on his wrist and he let out a gasp.
“What?”
“She’s gone!”
Your heart nearly collapsed as a feral Miguel immediately set himself on all fours towards her bedroom, clawing at floor.
“Miguel!” you called after him in a hurry.
Once you reached the open door, you were presented with Peter holding your daughter as Mayday chuckled happily, seated on his shoulder.
“Peter!” Miguel growled, yanking your daughter from his hold and bringing her close to his chest defensively.
“Miguel! We were just paying a visit,” he chuckled. “Cute baby, by the way,” he turned to you with a smile and a flick of his fingers.
But Miguel was having none of that. “Out!”
Mayday stuck out her tongue at him right away, a habit she had yet to let gonof whenever Miguel was around.
“Lyla, why wasn’t the alarm triggered?”
The AI appeared by his shoulder at once, filing her nails. “You forgot to activate the security system, boss.”
First Word
“Pa~pá! Say it. Paaa~pá!”
“Cheater!” you exploded as you entered the kitchen in large steps.
Miguel turned to face you as your daughter giggled.
“We promised to let it be something spontaneous,” you lifted an accusing finger at him. “Cheater!”
He lifted both hands defensively. “I’m just giving her some help.”
In truth, you weren’t upset with him in the slightest. He had been such a constanr presence in his daughter’s life even through an exhausting amount of work around Nueva York.
You feigned indignation crossing your arms across your chest.
Miguel picked her out of the baby chair and walked towards you with a tentative smile.
“I’m sorry.”
Your front broke right away as he leaned to nudge his forehead against yours. “You’re still a cheater,” you accused, not able prevent your lips from curling into a smirk.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
Your daughter started clapping enthusiastically. “Petaah~” and then burst into laughter.
Miguel looked down at her in shock. “What?”
It was almost comedic irony that the first word your daughter said was Peter, which had Miguel sulk for a couple of days.
First Steps
You missed kissing Miguel with no interruptions. Having some alone time in between taking care of your daughter was not easy to come by.
So whenever there was an opening, you’d both make it count.
He had your back pressed against the cold surface of the bedroom wall in no time, framing your face with both hands to deepen the searing kiss.
You melted into his touch right away, yearning for more.
Miguel broke the kiss momentarily to check his watch, panting lightly. “She’s still in the living room.”
You sighed in relief as he took your lips in his once more, hungrier this time. Both of your hands were resting on his firm chest, enjoying the way his muscles rippled under your touch.
Miguel hummed into you, swallowing your gasps and moans.
Your eyes were about to flutter shut when you detected movement out of the corner of your eye.
Panic took over and you immediately pushed Miguel away with a yelp.
Standing by the door was your daughter, gripping the frame with tiny hands, barely able to keep her balance.
Miguel offered her a kind smile. “Hey, you… come here.”
Your heart was hammering hard in your chest as you struggled to even your breathing.
She broke into an amused chuckle, wobbling in Miguel’s direction as he dropped to one knee. “Come here,” he encouraged.
But she would only take a couple of steps before her legs gave out under her to have her sit on the floor.
This was evidently very amusing as she kept trying to mimic her first attempt in between laughter
Miguel exchanged a proud smile with you and, for the first time in a long, you didn’t mind being interrupted.
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Masterlist
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Text
Mine
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《Part 3 for The Meetup
《Pairings:College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader
《Summary: After your successful first date, you and Eddie continue seeing each other. Things start getting more serious between the two of you.
《Warnings: fluff, smut, 90s!Eddie, mention of death but its not detailed, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, slight mocking, some size kink if you squint, spanking, dirty talk, fingering, thigh riding, cum swapping Use of a bass amp to get off. Voyeurism, cockwarming. Masturbation (male) oral (female receiving) orgasm denial. If I missed anything, please let me know nicely.
Word count: 13k
A/n: Please reblog, like, and leave a comment to support. Not proofread. Ignore any mistakes you come across.
Disclaimer: Please read parts 1 & 2 to understand the rest of the story. I also mention his mom in this part, but I wrote it way before the book spoilers were even released.
Mini series masterlist
18+ minors dni
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Eddie decided he wanted to surprise you at work the very next morning after your "conversation" together. He really wanted things to progress and work out between the two of you. While you both barely know each other, there is a connection that he's been dying to have with someone for a long time. He also just really wanted to see you again before you came to his shows.
He walked through the glass door, ringing the bell, and smirked when you saw you with a customer. Eddie really loved how cute you looked in your work uniform. He overheard the customer you were dealing with at the moment complaining about how his coffee tasted too fresh. Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean he thought. Eventually, the guy gave up and just snatched up his coffee and walked away. Eddie muttered asshole under his breath as the guy was walking past him.
After the man left, you still didn't notice Eddie walking up to the counter. You threw your head down, wanting this day to be over with already. You were trying to remain as calm as possible.
"Can I get a basic vanilla latte?" He asked, clearing his throat to grab your attention.
You recognize that voice immediately and look up to see him standing there. He was once again wearing black jeans and a muscle tee with his bands faded logo on the front. His tattooed arms on full display, and you can tell he shaved this morning. "Oh, what are you doing here?"
"Well I need coffee....and I wanted to see you." He smiled, showing off his dimples.
"Also, i couldn't stop thinking about our little talk last night." He continued wiggling his brows.
You can already feel your face getting warm at the mention of what you two did.
"Shhh!, we can't talk about that..not here." You scolded him, eyes widening in panic.
"Okay fine fine not here... but I do need that latte." He leaned over a little to whisper. That cocky smirk replacing the boyish one he had just moments ago.
You put in his order and tried to busy yourself. Not paying him too much attention, as he seemed to be extra playful today. He definitely came by to poke at you a little after what you did for him. You normally wouldn't have minded if the two of you were alone together. But you are at work, and most of the customers are people from your shared campus. The thought of one of them overhearing what you and him got up to would haunt you forever.
He watched you running around behind the counter, trying to seem busier than you actually were. "So I also wanted to ask maybe if you wanna come to my place after work?"
You pause instantly when he mentions going to his place. Did you just hear him correctly? Go to his place? You must have been making a face because he quickly added on.
"We can watch a movie, and I dunno talk." He's brown eyes looking into yours, almost pleading for you to say yes. You don't know how he does it. One moment, he's sexy and confident. Then next he's shy and bashful his cheeks alway gave him away. They would turn a crimson red when he got put on the spot. You can tell this sort of thing is pretty out of his comfort zone, but he's trying his best to change that.
"Yeah sure uhh I have to go home first, though."
You moved to pick up his coffee and hand it to him when his order was finally called. "I get off at six o'clock."
"I can pick you up from your place at around seven then. It's not a problem." He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.
Eddie started making his way to the door when you spoke up. "I don't get a terrible pun?"
He stops and turns to turns to you.
"I'm saving my best ones for tonight. " He said with a wink before exiting the coffee shop.
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You watched the clock on the wall like a hawk. Counting down every minute to every second like a mad woman. Were you nervous to go over to his place? Yes. But you also were excited to go and actually hang out with him. You know he invited you to watch his band perform, but hanging out in his home felt more intimate. No one else would have his attention it would just be the two of you alone.
Once that large hand hit six, you were booking it out of there and racing home to get ready. Eddie had told you he'd pick you up by seven, so that gave you almost an hour to get yourself together. You showered and changed into some more comfortable clothes. Your roommate is still out of town, and you thanked God for that. You knew the moment she saw you racing around your house, there would be a million questions thrown your way.
You looked at the clock sitting on your dresser and it read 6:58 pm. You don't know know how punctual Eddie is as a person just yet. You stared at the clock some more, and each minute that passed felt like forever. Your heart thumps in your chest as you patiently wait for the sound of his van. When it finally turned 7pm and there still was no Eddie in sight, you started to worry a little. What if he forgot to pick you up? He never said this was a date, so maybe he decided to do something else.
7:20pm
The clock in big bold red letters reads.
You were really starting to think he wasn't going to show. Until you heard the familiar loud sound of his motor pulling up out front. You made a quick dash for the front door, grabbing your purse. Eddie wasn't even on the last step yet before you're meeting him on your front porch. "Someone is a little eager to leave."
"Oh well I..my roommate is gonna be home soon, and I didn't want her asking a thousand questions." You lied. You'd never tell him that you've actually been sitting on your bed biting at your nails watching the time go by.
"Understandable. Sorry I'm late by the way I was cleaning up my place for you." He moves his arm hooking it around yours, helping you down the stairs.
"No, it's fine. I was busy getting ready anyways," you lied again.
Eddie opened the passenger side door to his van as you got in. Jogging over the driver side, Eddie hops in to sit on the plush blue seat. This is the second time you've rode in his van, and the first time, you actually paid attention to the details. His seats were a soft blue material. He had various band stickers littering the dashboard.
The back was empty except for a few cords thrown here and there. You would guess this is what he used to pack his band equipment in. His gear shift had a silver skull with fang like teeth and red jewels for eyes. You can tell he took a lot of care and put a lot of time into his vehicle.
"How was work after I left?" He asked, turning down his music.
"It was fine a little boring but not too bad." You shrug, playing with a loose thread of your pullover.
"I hope you like scary movies because I picked out a couple from block buster." His hand moves from the gear shift to give your thigh a quick squeeze. "I love scary movies."
"Good, I got us Evil Dead 2, Halloween 4, and The Fog." He made a turn down a street you're not familiar with, but notice it's not far from your home or campus. "You pick first."
"Uh, I wanna watch The Fog first, then Halloween 4." You said, noticing the van slowing down and pulling into a parking lot of an apartment complex.
The van comes to a complete stop, and Eddie turns to unhook your seat belt. He jumps out of the driver side to open up your door, helping you out. Putting a hand to the small of your back, guiding you to the main entrance. He opens the door for you to step in first.
"Welcome to my castle." He jested with a bow.
You giggled as you made your past him to enter the building. He puts a hand to the small of your back again as he guides you up the stairs. It didn't take long before you and him were at his apartment door. His place only is just two flights up. Pulling out his keys from his leather jacket, he unlocked the door and bowed for you to enter again.
You step in and notice right away that he has tons of music equipment around. To the right of you is a large TV set on a stand facing his couch. His home is dark and cozy with dragon and skull statues almost everywhere. Metal band posters framed on his wall and black curtains covering his windows. You notice a few personal framed pictures on the wall by his TV.
There is one of him and an older man with a gray beard. A picture of him in front of a playing table with what you assumed were his friends. There was one picture that stood out the most to you. It was smaller than the rest and pretty faded. There was a woman smiling with long dark curly hair holding a very happy toddler wrapped in a towel. You can only guess that must be his mother. He also had a gold locket hanging off the frame. You wanted to ask him about the photos, specifically that one, but decided against it. There could he some not so great memories you dont want to bring up.
Eddie was digging around for the movies when he noticed you staring at his pictures.
"That's my uncle wayne." He walked up behind you, pointing at the man with the grey beard.
"And this is my old DnD club."
He reached over, taking the picture off the wall to give you a better look. "See, this is Jeff, Gareth, and Grant, who are also my band mates."
He continues on now pointing at the younger kids in the picture. "This is Henderson, who is a little shit might I add. Then we have Lucas, Erica, and Mike."
He puts the picture back on wall and turns to set up his TV and VCR.
"What about this one?" You point at the faded picture of a woman and baby. Instantly cringing when you opened your big mouth.
"That's me and my Mom." He smiles fondly at the mention of her. "She passed when I was little."
"I'm sorry, Eddie." You feel guilty for even asking.
He looks up at you. "Wanna hear the story about how I first got arrested?"
"Oh, um, sure."
He clears his throat and puts a tape in his VCR.
"Well, I was about 16, and I had just got my first guitar. So I went to her grave because I wanted to show her. I saved up all of my money that summer, too. I was working at this mechanic shop and then did little tedious jobs around town for some extra cash. Eddies smiling, but there is some sadness behind his eyes.
"So I go to her grave and pull out my guitar and brag about how I paid for it all on my own. I laid back against her headstone and strummed away on the cords. I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I knew, I was in handcuffs getting put in a police car." His eyes getting glassy at the memory. You can see he's fighting back tears.
Clearing his throat again, "and that's how I got arrested."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring anything up." You apologized as guilt was eating away at you. "Nah, it's okay. I like talking about her."
"Any who you ready to watch this movie and eat?" He exclaimed, clapping his hands wanting to change the topic.
You nod feeling a little relieved he doesn't seem upset you asked about his Mom. He runs to the kitchen to pull out two pizza boxes from his oven and sets them down on the coffee table. He gets the movie started and turns off most of the lights except for in the kitchen. You and Eddie sit back on the couch with his arm draped around you. You lean close against him to get comfy as the main title starts to roll.
There was tension again and the not bad kind either. The same kind that was present when you were together in his van on your first date. Eddie kept glancing down at you as you tried to put all of your focus in the movie. You felt his fingertips brush your skin underneath your pullover. You looked up at him and noticed his attention on the screen. He was playing innocent. It was an innocent little touch at first, but he wanted to slowly work you up.
His fingers tracing light patterns as they slowly inched their way to the waistband of your tights. His eyes still focused on the movie when you looked back up. He seemed like he didn't notice you watching him, but he did. A devilish smirk appears on his face when he sees you squirm. He inches his fingers further until they are playing with the elastic of your panties. He pulls and snaps the band back against your hip.
You try to remain focused on the movie playing in front of you. He seemed like he wasn't really aware of what he was currently doing to you. His eyes haven't left the tv since he pressed play from what you can tell. You felt his hand dipping lower and lower into your tights. His hand almost cupping your sex. You're breathing heavier, anticipating for him to keep going further down. You feel a finger trace up your slit brushing over your clit. You let out a small gasp and try to remain calm. You look back up at him and notice his eyes remain forward. You turn back to the TV, and he chuckles to himself, watching you wriggle next to him.
You spread your legs a little wider, giving him more access. He took the opportunity to rub across your clit once more before moving your panties to side. His middle finger dipped down to your opening. He groans a low hum when he feels how wet you already are for him. Your breathing increases. You want him to keep touching you. He looks down at you for moments and notices how tight you're squeezing his leg.
He bends down to whisper in your ear. "Come sit in my lap, baby."
His breath tickled your neck.
You dont hesitate not for one second. You immediately moved to lay back on his lap, letting one leg hang off the side of the couch. You can feel his hard length pressing into the curve of your ass. His hand dipped down in your panties to glide his fingers between your wet folds. You whine, laying your head on his shoulder. "I know, baby. I know. God, you're so wet already."
"Keep going." You gasp when you felt one of his fingers press on your aching clit.
"Gonna make you feel so good tonight."
Your legs already trembling, and he's barely touched you.
"I can't wait to get you all messy." He grunted when he felt you shift in his lap. Your ass grinding against him. His cock painfully hard in his jeans it's just begging to be set free.
"Shit..take these off." He pulled at your tights.
You moved to yank them down to your ankles and kicking the tights off. Your slick already soaking through the lace material of your panties. He hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls them off you almost tearing the fabric. You're completely naked from the waist down.
You feel his middle finger dip down again and tease at your entrance. Adding another, he pushes them in, splitting you open. His fingers lazily pumping inside you. Your slick dripping down, making a small wet patch on his leg. Your clit throbbing at Eddie's continued neglect. You can't take it anymore. You move your hand slowly to rub languid circles around your sensitive bud. "Fuck that's it play with yourself."
"You're so fucking hot." He nips at your earlobe watching as your and his hand works on your pussy.
His fingers plunging deep and harder inside you. Your breathing ragid as you writhe on his lap. Your moans mix with sounds of terror blaring from his TV. You're sure his neighbors are used to it. He curved his middle and index to massage that sweet spot on your walls.
"You like that, sweetheart? " He cooed in your ear.
"Mmm!, yes!" You moan.
You can feel him smile against your neck biting down on the skin. His fingers picking up the pace as they plunge deeper inside you. Your walls getting spread open by his thick digits. Rubbing your clit faster as you feel a tightness building up in your core. Your release approaching you much too soon. Your pussy making the loudest wet sounds as Eddie's fingers spread you open. His hand getting drenched in your slick.
"My girl gettin' close?" His rasped licking the shell of your ear.
Your ass grinding down harder against him making it difficult for Eddie not to cum in his jeans.
Your bucking up your hips as your own fingers work on your aching clit. Eddie can't believe this once shy girl is now lying across his lap with his fingers buried deep in her. The sight alone was enough for him to make him cum.
Your orgasm rapidly approaching, you feel your thighs twitcing, and you close them tightly around his hand, keeping him tightly in place. You're orgasm ripping powerfully through your body. Eddie takes his other hand to push your legs back open. His long, thick fingers stretching your sensitive walls as they pulsate around him. The pads of his fingertips pruning from your wetness. Taking his other hand to push yours off to rub on your clit helping you ride out your orgasm.
"That's it baby cum for me." He praised.
Your body vibrates as you came down from your high. Your orgasm leaving you almost limp in his arms. Your legs feel numb and jello like. Eddie carefully removes his fingers from inside you. There is a comfortable silence between the two of you as your breathing evens out. The only sounds in the apartment are now the ones of pure agony coming from his TV.
"Wanna make you cum all night long." He breathed.
You look up at him, eyes slowly opening and closing.
Can you sit on my thigh for me?" He asked softly.
You carelessly nod. Your body felt like it was floating.
You sit up and slowly move to stand. Your legs wobble, and you almost fall, but Eddie catches you by the hips. He guides you to sit and straddle his thigh. You can see the imprint of his cock in his pants. You lick your lips, remembering the size of him. You sit down your bare pussy now rubbing on his pants. His hands still firmly on your hips, moving you to grind against him.
"Like this." He showed you.
You take the perfect opportunity to lick and suck at the sensitive spot under his neck, earning you a little whimper from him. Your soft lips leave a trail of kisses behind after each bite. He tries holding back another moan as your mouth continues to attack his neck. You grind harder on his thigh, rubbing yourself against him like he showed you. His fingers digging into the your ass as your pussy grinds on him. Your clit rubbing on the rough material.
He can feel your wetness soaking his leg as you grow closer to cuming again. He removes you away from his throat and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. Teeth clashing as your tongues dance together. He halts your movements on his thigh, lifting you up slightly.
"Look at that mess you’ve made." He teased. Your slick very noticeable on his dark jeans.
"Oh! Eddie. You whine loving how he seemed to be mocking you.
"W-we're supposed to be watching a movie." Your legs burning and your clit aching as you rub it faster on his leg.
"You looked scared.....thought I distract you." He sounded almost genuine. He licks a strip up your throat, making you let a small whine.
"M'not scared." You mumbled, trying to defend yourself. Eddie knew you weren't scared.
Each time you speak, every word is followed with a cry of pleasure.
Eddie laughs. "I know, you weren't. I was so scared. I had to distract myself."
He fakes a pout, gripping your ass painfully hard. His fingers digging into your skin.
Eddie pulls you back down against him roughly and moves to help you grind faster. Your chest rising and falling quickly as you feel another orgasm approaching you. You move against him rubbing your throbbing clit on his leg. You can feel that tightness in your core building up again. This time, it's approaching you stronger than the last.
"S'good." You mewled, grinding your hips back and forth.
You inhale your breath and bury your face in his neck as your second orgasm washes over you. It felt like adam was bursting open. You cum so hard on him tears leak from your eyes. Your hands grip his shoulders while he moves your hips to continue grinding on him.
"That's it cum all over me." His voice so deep and husky. You swear you could cum just by listening to him.
You rest your head on him, your body covered in sweat as Eddie rubs your back.
"You did so good." He whispered in your ear.
You sit there in his lap until you build up enough strength to move. Your mind hazy, and your vision is blury.
"Let's go to my room." He kissed your swollen lips and helped you stand.
"Okay." You move to get up, and Eddie takes you by the hand. Your legs feel weak but strong enough to still walk.
He guides you to his bedroom and opens up the door, revealing a large bed with black sheets. The room was dark except for a black light on the table next to his bed. There was a glowing green skull poster above his headboard. Eddie pulled you to the other side of the room and took your pullover off, revealing your bare breasts to him. Your nipples hardening into little peaks as the cold air hits your naked chest. He quirks an eyebrow up when he noticed you weren't wearing a bra tonight.
"Lay back for me." He asked, kissing you one more time.
You move to lay against the pillows behind you. You watch as he rummages through his nightstand, grabbing a bottle of clear liquid. He tosses it next to you on the bed and takes off his shirt. You can see the outline of his cock so prominent even in dark. Clenching your legs together, thinking about him buried inside you.
Eddie moves over to your side of the bed, taking his pants and boxers off. His pale skin glowing under the purplish lighting of his bedroom. His cock springing free and he lets out a deep sigh. "Im gonna cum on those pretty tits of yours kay?"
Biting down on your lip, you nod eagerly, waiting for him to begin.
He moves to straddle your waist and reaches over to pick up the bottle he tossed earlier. He pops the top open and squirts the clear gel on his palm. Fisting his cock rubbing the lube up and down his shaft. He brushes his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum. Eddie begins to stroke his shaft as you watch. He's pumping his cock in a slow pace watching you not taking your eyes away from him. You moved your hands to rub down his abdomen, and it was enough to send him over the edge. He lets out a strangled moan when he feels your nails scratch into his skin.
He leans over with one hand by your head, and the other still stroking his cock.
"W-wanna fuck you so bad baby." He groans above you. His face just mere inches away from yours.
Eddie's thinking back to that night you called him on his show. How your wanton moans ringed in his ears almost every night since then. He picks up the pace as he fucks his hand wishing it were you instead. The way you begged him help you cum for the first time.
He fists his cock faster lube dripping down from his palm and on your stomach. Some of it splashes on your chest from how hard he's going. His grip tightened when he heard you let out a little whimper. He's all teary-eyed and body glistening in sweat. His cock making a filthy schlick noise similar to what you heard on the phone last night.
"I wanna make you feel so fucking good." He sits back up pumping his cock so hard the veins in his forearm are now visible. His bicep flexing with every stroke.
Your hands move to grip and rub up and down his thighs. Your mouth watering as you watched his precum trickle down to his knuckles.
"You're so big, Eddie." You purred under him.
He lets out a choked sob loving when you tell him how big he is. He already knows, but hearing you say it does something to him. He's so desperate for you all he's imagined since meeting you is having you like this. Hearing you speak to him like that is almost too much to handle. How you're talking to him the same way he talks to you. The way your shyness fades away when you're alone together. He loves it.
Don't cum, Don't cum, Don't cum. His inner monologue chants. Eddie tries not to focus too much on what you're saying but fuck its hot hearing it coming from you.
"God, I'm gonna f-ffking ruin you." His voice strained from grunting so much. He's fucking himself harder to the point his arm is beginning to hurt. The chain on his wrist rattling and clanking around.
He moves up a little higher when he feels himself getting close. His hand fists his cock in a tight strong grip. His pulse quickened with each stroke. His aching cock begging to cum already. He's trying to prolong it, but he doesn't know how much longer he can hold out for.
"Need your cum Eddie." You begged digging your nails into his skin.
Rolling his eyes to the back of his head cursing under his breath. His mouth hung open as drool spilled down his chin and onto you. "Please cum on me."
"Jesus christ," He breathed. His legs almost giving out on him as he kneeled above you.
His hips thrust forward, rocking his bed against the wall. His hand tightened around him as he imagines its you. His tip leaking precum down to his knuckles. Eddie needs to cum now he can't hold it any longer. He fists his length pumping faster than before. His cock twitches in his palm, and he lets out the most animalistic groan you've ever heard. His cum shooting out and covering your tits.
He falls forward, almost landing on top of you. Your tits covered in his cum just like he imagined. Eddie sat up to admire the work he's just done on your breasts. He bends over without a second thought, licking his mess off you. His tongue lapping away until you're clean of him. Sucking and biting down on your sensitive nipples making you push your tits closer to his mouth. Eddie sat up to look at you for a moment. His mouth full of his own cum and spit. He grips your jaw with his hand firmly. Pulling your chin down until your mouth is opened wide for him. You already know have an idea of what he's about to do. You stick your tongue out far as it can go waiting for him.
Eddie spits his cum straight into your mouth getting it all over your tongue allowing you to taste him. You close your mouth, swallowing every bit you received. Enjoying the saltiness of his essence on your taste buds. "You like how I taste, huh?"
"I love the way you taste." You whisper, feeling his cum go down your throat. His taste lingering on your tongue.
"Such a good girl. You didn't waste a drop." He spoke softly, tapping your checking gently.
He moves to sit up straight against his headboard. You lay there naked, not really knowing what you should do next. Do you leave now? Does he want you to stay? Your insecurities start creeping back up. You shouldn't feel this way. He's never once made you think he didn't want to be around you.
"Fuck!..shit!" He breathed heavily laughing to himself. He notices how quiet you've gotten all of a sudden. "You okay?"
"Mhmm, yeah, I'm great." You look over at him. You weren't lying. You felt great, but there was this awkwardness that only you were feeling. You were bracing yourself to be let down and told to pick up your clothes and leave.
Eddies does the exact opposite. He isn't like that. Not with you. Most women left him afterward without a moments thought. No one ever stayed over, and he was hopeful you would. He wished at least one girl would have, and he'd wake up to them stroking his hair. He'd cook them breakfast and laugh over their food. That never happened. He went to bed alone and woke up alone.
"Want a shirt to sleep in?" He asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. His voice croaked.
"Oh, um, sure." You give him a shy smile.
Eddie did want you to stay and spend the night. He didn't want to you leave like you assumed. He runs a hand down his face, cleaning off some of the sweat, trying to gather himself a bit more. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he walks over to a chair with various discarded clothes. Picking up a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He tosses the shirt over to you as he puts his pj's on.
The shirt is old with some holes and bleach stains. With an Iron Maiden logo plastered on the front. You throw it over your head and lay back, trying to get comfortable. "We never did eat."
"Too tired now." Your eyes growing heavy as you watch Eddie make his way back to you.
He gets back in bed, throwing the covers over you both. "Yeah, me too."
You turn so your back is facing him, sinking deeper into the mattress. His bed is warm and soft. You feel him drap and arm over you, bringing you to press up against his bare chest. You wanted to ask him something, but your mind is still foggy from earlier to recall what it was. Your body is so weak, and your legs feel like you ran a marathon. Soft snores from behind let you know Eddie has already passed out. Probably right when his head hit the pillows. You figured you'd stop over thinking things and just rest, too. You were definitely going to need it.
-
The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no sign of Eddie. His spot cold as the sun peaks through the tiny cracks of his blinds. You move to get up and make your way through his apartment. You're still in his old Iron maiden shirt as you remembered your clothes were previously thrown around his living room and bedroom. Your face heating up when you think about what the two of you did last night. What did he to you last night. How good he made you feel and never did he make you feel guilty for anything you didn't do. He didn't pressure you into doing something you were uncomfortable with.
You make your way down the short hallway until you stop at the living room. The curtains were wide open this time allowing you to see his home better. Not only did he play guitar and collect little figurines, but he was also an artist. Multiple paintings and drawings decorating his walls with a little EM scribbled at the bottom. A pan crashing in the kitchen startles you, and you rush to see if Eddie's okay.
You run and freeze in the doorway when you notice his bare back is to you cooking at the stove. The aroma of pancakes and bacon filling your nose making your stomach growl. He was making you breakfast. No guy you've ever seen made you breakfast before. The more you're around Eddie, the faster you feel like you're falling for him. He was too good to be true, you thought. There has to be something wrong with him.
He feels you standing at the door.
"G'morning, how'd you sleep?" He smiled over his shoulder, flipping another pancake.
"I slept good, actually." You moved to sit on a barstool watching him cook.
"Yeah, me too." A grin plastered on his face, remembering last night too. He smiled fondly at the memory of you naked on his bed.
"Hope you're hungry because I made food."
Your stomach growling louder at the mention of food. You and him didn't do much eating last night. "I'm starving, actually,"
He pulls down two plates, one for you and him. You sit gazing around his apartment, waiting for him to finish up. You must have been daydreaming because the sound of glass clinking in front of you made jump almost out of your seat.
"Oops, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He sets a couple of pancakes on your plate. Picking up a can of whipped cream, creating a little smiley face for you.
"Eat up!" Eddie looked proud of his work on your plate. "I made these special."
He moves to sit down next to you and shoves a fork full of food in his mouth. You pick at your plate a little, wanting to eat but dreading the goodbye that's soon to come.
"You're not eating." He leaned over close as he noticed not one bite of food has been taken from your plate. "Sorry, I was just thinking."
"About?" He questioned, turning his attention back to the pancakes smothered in whipped cream and way too maple syrup.
"It's not important." You murmured.
You pick up your fork and finally take a bite of your pancakes. Your mood suddenly switches now that you have food in your belly. You didn't realize he had put blueberries in them. They were light and fluffy but not too sweet. The whipped cream made into the shape of a smiley face melting away.
You glance over, seeing him focused on his food, not a thought behind those eyes right now. He was mesmerized by the sugary goodness in front of him.
"I didn't know you played bass too." You commented, trying to grab his attention.
Nodding his head, he looked over and smiled. "Yep."
"I played bass in my first band, but I liked being certain of attention too much, so I opted for guitar." He joked, but you know there was some truth to that. Taking another large bite, clearing his plate of pancakes and bacon.
"Want me to play you a song before we head out for the day?"
"Sure!" You exclaimed, dropping your fork with a loud clunk.
You've never seen or heard him play before. You know you'll be seeing him soon this Wednesday, but you just can't wait that long. Even though it's only a few days away.
He hops off the barstool and heads over to pull out his equipment. "Come over here, sweetheart."
He moved this big amp to the middle of the floor and patted it while motioning for you to come sit down. You gingerly got up as your legs still feel a little wobbly. You plop your butt down on the amp. "Ah ah, straddle it."
"Please."
There was a devious glint in his eyes.
You look at him confused but move, so each of your legs is on either side of the amp. He walked over, plugging in his bass and messing with the nobs on the Amp. He looked at you for a split second a sly grin appearing on his face. You're still confused about what he's up to, but you know he's up to something.
"Good girl." He bent over kissing the side of your head. "Gonna play my pretty girl a song before she starts her day."
You sit there all smiles while you watch him get everything set up. Maybe he is innocent time and isn't up to something. But you've seen that grin one too many times, and you've only just met.
"I'm gonna play you a personal favorite of mine." He plucked the string slightly, testing to see if the amp was on properly.
"Song is Orion by the way." He winked.
He begins plucking away at the cords and watches you intently. The amp in between your legs starts coming to life and rattle with vibrations. Your legs twitch, and you move to stand up, but Eddie shoots you a look, and you sit right back down. Your breath hitches the faster he starts to play. You try to remain focused on him, but the faster he plays, the more intense the amp vibrates.
"This is my favorite part to play." He raised his voice a little so you can hear him.
The song calms down just a little, making the amp die down. You exhale a deep breath, thinking it was over. Your clit throbs between your legs from Eddie's previous abuse last night.
"How you feeling, baby?" He asked, knowing the song was about to pick up speed again.
You stifle a moan. "I'm good."
"Grind on it like you did my leg." He commanded, shooting you a stern look.
He's never spoken or looked at you like that before. He sounded almost domineering, and you won't lie. You liked the way it made you feel.
"That's it, you're so good." His fingers steadily working on the bass slung over his chest.
You do as you're told and rock back and forth on the amp. The song picking up more speed, and you feel that coil in your tummy getting tighter. Your legs trembling as you struggle to do as you're told. Your body telling you to stand up and get off but the need to cum was too over powering. He picks at the strings harder and faster. "Oh fuck!"
"E-Eddie, I can't please....i-its too much," you pleaded. Your clit still sore from last night it felt almost bruised.
"You can. Just relax." He reassured.
You nod your head and focus while the vibration on your core intensified. You rock your hips, grinding down on his amp. Each pluck of the strings as the song changes tempo makes your whole body tremble. The song is coming close to an end, and soon, the closer you are to your release.
"Mmmfph! I'm gonna cum." You moan loud over the music.
"I know, baby!" He yelled back over the music.
You ride the amp harder and faster as your release approaches. With a sharp intake of breath, as another orgasm washes over you, sending shockwaves throughout your body. You almost topple over on the floor, but Eddie quickly rushes to catch you. "I got you, don't worry."
He set his bass down on the floor, holding on to your arm with one hand. He carefully helps you to your feet, and your legs almost give out. "You okay?"
"I'm okay, yeah." You panted.
"Did you like it?"
"Yeah, just warn me next time." You playfully swatted at his chest.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I had to make sure I'd be on your mind all day." He laughed, walking you down the hallway. He turned to see the very noticeable sticky mess you left behind.
He helped you to the bathroom, letting you get washed up before you both got dressed to head out. He mentioned how he has class, but he'd love for you to listen to his show tonight. You never told him you do that almost every time he was on air. Day dreaming about meeting him. You had class too during the same hours as him so you couldn't grab lunch like he'd suggested. Which is fine. You'll be seeing him in a few days anyway. You are going to miss him, though. You had fun and truth be told you didn't want to stay again. He didn't want you to leave either. If he could lock you up in this apartment with him, he would. No hesitations. Just the two of you alone together.
Eddie gave you a ride home so you can put on some clean clothes. He gave you one long kiss before you hopped out of his van.
"I'll see you Wednesday." He gave a wink before pulling off.
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Wednesday came a lot slower than you wished for it to. You tried to keep yourself occupied with work and class. Wishing the time flew by fast like the last time, but it didn't. Those last few days leading up to his performance seemed to drag a long. You just wanted to see Eddie and be with him. You already planned tonight was the night.
You planned your outfit and makeup. Already having your dress hanging up on your closet. Eddie had offered to come pick you up and take you to the bar, but you declined since you didn't know how long it would take getting ready. You'd planned to run straight home after work and not waste any time. Of course, things didn't go exactly to plan because you had to work almost an hour past when you're supposed to clock out. You pleaded to your manager that you have to leave soon. You had plans. Very, very important plans.
Finally, you were able to leave, and you sprinted home grateful you lived very close by. Busting through your front door, almost knocking down the pictures on your wall on the way to your bedroom. You were already extremely late to see him as is. You know his band already started their first song, and you hope Eddie doesn't notice your absence.
You threw on your dress that was much shorter than the last one he saw you in. You chose to wear heels again, knowing you were probably going to trip at some point tonight. You regret not taking Eddie up on his offer to drive you to the Hideout. Racing out the door and down the street into town. Now was a good time to regret not owning a car. Your feet are already killing you on the pavement. Luckily, the bar is right near campus as well. You're already cringing at the blisters that will be on your toes by tomorrow.
Flashing red signs and loud music fill your ears. You can see the bar on the far right corner of the busy street. Cars line up down the road as they make their to the same destination as you. Some of the people you can recognize from class or the coffee shop. Entering the bar, you can hear Eddie before you even see him. He's already thanking everyone for attending tonight. He told you his sets aren't long, only about forty minutes since other bands play there too. He begrudgingly has to share the stage.
You guess he was on his second to last song by the time you arrived. You felt terrible missing half of his show. You didn't expect to work so late, particularly on a Wednesday evening. You were a little taken back by the number of people out mid week.
You see him at last up on stage in far back. The bar is a lot bigger than you imagined. You're struggling to get closer to the stage. There is a tiny corner close to him that's empty you noticed. Your feet in pain and with people stepping on them as you push past, you won't be surprised if they're not bleeding yet. You almost have to force your way over there. You didn't expect this many people to show up. The Hideout was also the only bar closest to everyone, so obviously, they'd all gather here. Eddies band was also very popular with the local metalheads.
You finally reached the small little empty corner near him. You have a good view of the side stage and audience. You see him singing and thrashing away on his guitar. His hair is down and sticks to his neck. The chain hanging around his neck now tangled. His shirt is drenched in beer and sweat. Not his beer. Some guy apparently threw a drink on him earlier from what you manage to overhear from people in the crowd. They were applauding how Eddie threw the guy off the stage.
You look over and notice almost a sea of women in the front. Well, not exactly a sea of women but a very good amount of them. One too many for your liking. They're all make bedroom eyes at him and flashing their tits. You feel something coming over you as you watch them take off their bras and throw it on stage. You noticed one tied up and hanging from his mic stand. Were you jealous or angry? You're not sure, but you dont like how you feel. You watched him look at them and no one else. If you weren't jealous before, you sure as hell are now. Eddie was yours. There was this burning feeling in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to leave but not without him.
His set was coming to an end as he announced the last song Corroded Coffin would be performing tonight. You wanted to move so he could see you, but it's too late. A huge mob rushed to the front stage. People jumping up there with him to head bang. More articles of clothing are thrown his way. You lean up against the brick wall behind you, trying to calm down. Your nerves are all worked up not only from the girls but also from the number of people here tonight. You're not used to large crowds like this.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming to see us tonight. we're Corroded coffin." Eddie announced in the mic.
He moves to leave the stage and almost walks right past you. He doesn't notice you at first with his head hanging low.
"Eddie!" You yelled, trying to get his attention and grab his writs.
His head quickly pops up, looking to see who just grabbed him. His face softened when he saw it was you. "Hey, you came. Follow with me."
He intertwined his fingers with yours, leading you backstage. Eddie gave quick hi's and byes as you tagged along. It was much brighter back there with dingy white walls that had graffiti all over them. Different bands signing each brick signifying they played there. You overheard his other members discussing whose car would be moving the equipment back to Gareth's place. Eddie drags you down various different corridors until he's pulling you in a private bathroom.
"You like the show?" He asked, turning on the faucet to wash his hands and face off.
"Yeah, you were great." You still had this jealous feeling in your stomach. You felt build the more you tried to drown it out.
He turns off the water and walks over to you. You back away until you couldn't anymore. Eddie eyes at what you're wearing, licking his lips. Your dress is barely covering anything at all. "You look nice."
"Thank you." You whispered.
He bends down to give you a heated kiss. His lips crash onto yours. You open your mouth to breathe, and that's when he sneaks his tongue in. His hands creeping grip your ass over your dress. His kiss is intoxicating as his tongue explores your mouth. You melt into him.
He breaks away. "Need to take you home."
He's panting heavy pupils already blown out with lust.
"I wanna go to your place."
He pulls you away from the door, grabbing your arm and making a bee line for the exit.
"Don't you have to help pack up?" You try to keep up with him as your heels scrap the floor.
"They're fine."
You don't what possessed you, but the moment you got him alone in his van, your hands and lips were all over him. Reaching over to rub his semi hard cock over his pants while he tries to focus on the road. You can feel him hardening under your palm.
"S-sweetheart, come on, wait just a few minutes. He pleaded, feeling himself getting harder. His cock straining painfully on the zipper of his jeans. "We're almost there."
You lean over closer sucking and biting his neck, earning you a groan. You move your hand slowly down his abdomen until it reaches his belt. You unbuckle and undo the button to his pants. His eyes trained on the road a head. Both hands tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles are almost turning white.
"Oh god." He rasped when he felt your hand slip past his boxers.
His chest heaving and his jaw clenches. You were acting very bad right now. You know you should stop. You know doing this kind of thing can be dangerous. You just couldn't wait to have him any longer.
"W'nna gag on your cock Eddie." You smile biting your lip.
You continue teasing and rubbing his length. "Can you fuck me tonight?" He's so thick your hand can barely wrap around it. You're salvating, remembering how you struggled to fit him all in your mouth.
He coughed, choking on his spit when you heard you. He doesn't know what's gotten into you tonight, but he is not complaining.
You remove your hand from his pants and give the side of his mouth a quick peck. You move back to your seat and put your seat belt back on. You let him drive peacefully until he gets to his apartment building. He looks to the buldge in his pants and back to you. He's mad. Mad that you teased him like this and then just left him.
"Just wait until I get you inside." Eddie's eyes never leaving the road to look at you. His jaw clenching.
You squeeze your thighs together, getting turned on at what he's planning on doing to you. You don't know why, but you like seeing him get mad.
He speeds up when he sees his building ahead. You need him bad tonight. You can still taste him on your tongue. The screeching of tires coming to a complete stop, letting you know you've arrived at his place. Eddie wasted no jumping out the driver side and practically pulling you out of the van. He leads you inside with your arm still in his grip.
His lips are all over you as you're heading up the stairs to his apartment. You both tripped over one another, making your way up each step. His hands are running all over your body. From your ass and thighs to your tits. There wasn't a place he wasn't touching you. He just wants to throw you on his bed and rip that dress off from your body. Spread you open and have you begging him not to stop.
You don't even recall how you made it inside his apartment. You kick your shoes off and strip him of his shirt. Your lips are on his in a feverish kiss. He backs you up against the couch, your ass hitting the arm.
"Turn around." His mumbles as you bite at his bottom lip.
You break away to look at him, confusion written all over your face.
"I said, turn. around." He instructed in a demanding like tone.
You do as you're told and turn around. His naked chest pressed against your back. You can feel his hard cock pressing into the swell of your ass. "You were a bad girl back there."
"I think you need a good spanking, hm?" His mouth was right by ear as he whispered seductively. He moves his hand to give you a swift slap on your ass. You yelp when you felt him.
Your nipples harden through your dress. His hands are feeling up your legs. His fingers tips goasting over the skin of your thighs. He goes to remove your panties when he noticed you're not wearing any.
"Oh," He marveled, lifting up your dress. He tsks, shaking his head. "You're being so bad tonight." He's taunting you. Playing with you a little. Wanting to rile you up before giving you what you want.
He moves from behind you to sit down on the couch.
"Over my lap." He sounded frustrated he had to do this, and you liked it. His sudden dominance with you. A complete contrast to the Eddie you're used to.
You move to lay across his lap. You shiver with anticipation, waiting for him to spank you for the first time. Hopefully, it won't be the last you thought to yourself.
He hand pulls back, and with no warnings, he smacks you hard on the ass. You gasp and jolt forward. He doesn't give you time to adjust before doing it again and again. Your ass stinging from the impact his palm was making. His hand is an angry red shade from how hard he's going.
You don't know if you were supposed to count or not, but if you had to guess, you'd say he's given you five so far. Tears spilling down your face ruining your makeup. "Aww, you crying? No crying baby, you deserve this."
"You did this to yourself now. Take it like a good girl." Eddie sighed. He swats you again for the eigth time. "Could have gotten us hurt back there.
"Can't have my pretty girl gettin' hurt." He spoke gently to you. He was right. You shouldn't have done that.
Eddie, stops to check in on you. Not wanting to push you past any limits.
"You gonna be my good girl?" His hand smoothing over your very sore cheeks.
"M'sorry I'll be good." You sniffle. It hurt, but you liked it. The wetness pooling between your legs every time his hand connected to your ass.
He lifts up your dress, exposing your bare ass to him. His fingers moving to tease at your opening. Your slick running down your inner thighs.
"Someone enjoys getting spanked, I see." He mocked, slowly pushing two fingers in your entrance.
"Mmhm y-yes I like it." You mewled, feeling his fingers working you open. You let out a high-pitched squeal, feeling him curving them upwards. His thick fingers plunging in your pussy. You grip a tight hold on his thighs while his fingers are busy thrusting into you.
"Bedroom...now," He commanded in a stern voice, ripping his fingers from you with a loud wet pop as they make their leave. A long string of your slick connecting the two of you together. Eddie brings the two digits to his mouth, cleaning them off.
That's all you had to hear before leaving him alone. You strip yourself of your dress, throwing it to the floor as you sit at the edge of the bed waiting for him. His room is exactly how he left it the last time you were stayed. Your ass still stinging from his hand.
Eddie walked through the doorway of his bedroom. He's jeans discarded somewhere in his living area. He walks over and towers over you.
"You really want to do this?" He asked, making sure you were absolutely ready.
"Yes... I need you." You pleaded.
You desperately needed him. You can't go much longer without having him inside you. You felt like you were going to go insane. He's looking down at you with a soft gaze in his eyes. You felt safe. You always have with him.
He pulls his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. Eddie crawled over top of you until you were flat on your back. He reached down between your legs to tease at your opening some more, wanting to get you ready for him. You spread your legs wider, giving him more access.
Eddie hums at the sight of you spread out for him. Only him. Your pussy glistening in the dim light of his bedroom and it takes all his strength to not just fuck you right then. He sinks down to his knees and yanks you down roughly so your ass is hanging off the edge of the mattress. He spits down on your pussy before spreading your folds apart with his tongue. You sigh feeling his warm tongue lapping at your clit. Your legs hanging over his shoulders. The little stumble starting to grow on his chin, tickling your folds. It was too much.
You gripped and clawed at the sheets on the bed beneath you. Eddie puts one finger to your entrance and pushes in until it disappeared. He curved his middle finger upward pumping it in your pussy rubbing at that spongey spot on your walls. You grip his hair as his mouth works on your clit. He grunts against you, making your whole body quiver. Eddie is going at you like a man starved. His mouth never lets up for one second. His eyes closed as he got lost in your taste. Savoring every drop of your slick on his tongue.
Your legs try to close around his head, and he grips one tightly, pushing it away. Your hips lifting as you're writhing around feeling your orgasm building. Eddie can feel you getting close when your walls clenched and pulsed around his finger. His plump lips sucking at your clit harder. You were almost there. So close and just as you were about to cum. Eddie stopped suddenly removing his mouth from you and pulling his finger away. Your walls still pulsating as he denied you of your orgasm. His face was shiny and covered in your juices. He looks up giving you an amused look.
You frown at him, knowing he’s messing with you for what you did to him in the van.
"Why'd you stop? I was so close." You almost wanted to cry. "I need you...I just wanna cum p-pleeease make me cum."
You'd do anything at this point to have him inside of you. Your pussy was practically crying for his cock to nestled deep inside you.
"My girl wants me to fuck her?" He whispered with a sultry tone. "Is that it?"
"Yeah," you replied. your voice barely above a whisper.
"Aww baby, don't cry." Eddie cooed, noticing the sad look on your face after what he just done. He wasn't going to deny you anymore. How could he when you're looking at him like that.
You nod your head slowly. "Need it so so so bad."
"Gonna have you feelin' so full." He sits up aligning his cock on top of your pussy. Showing you how far in he's going to be.
"Look at that...look how deep I'm going to be." He's so hard for you. Feels like with just the slightest touch you give him, he could explode on the spot.
You squirm under his gaze, arching your back, waiting as patiently as you possibly could. You know he's going to go about this slow. He's going to be extra careful with you. He's going to tease and taunt you because he wants to here you beg for it. He holds the base of his cock slapping it against your sore clit. Getting his precum on your wet folds. Your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your face feels all fuzzy and warm.
"Don't tease me anymore." You whine, stifling a moan when the head of his cock dips down to your entrance. He pushes just a few inches in parting you open. Your eyes fluttering closed when you get a little taste at what's to come.
Eddie doesn't stay for long he removes himself teasing your clit with his tip. Rubbing your juices and his precum all over your sore bud. You thrash and grip a hold of his sheets. Your walls clenching around nothing again as they're so ready to be stretched open by him. Each time his tip pushes at your opening, you feel that coil in your belly creeping back up. You were on the verge of cuming just moments before he denied the chance. You know the second his cock sinks in you won't be able to hold it.
He rubs his cock up and down nudging your clit with his leaking tip over and over again. Your slick drenching his length. He thought he was going to need to use his lube, but that doesn't seem to be the case tonight. Your pussy is drenched with your juices. You were more than ready for him. Eddie just enjoyed getting you worked up. Hearing your sweet little cries anytime he gets his cock close enough to your opening. The way your legs squeeze around him, trying to keep him from moving away. How your eyebrows squint together and you bite down hard on your bottom lip. "Eddieeee," your whiny and breathy sobs make him almost take pity on you. Almost.
"Eddieeee," He repeated back, mocking the same pout you have on your face.
He drags his cock through your wet folds repeatedly making a lewd wet schlick noise.
" You're bein' mean,' you whine, tears spill down your face again. Mascara and eyeliner ruined in the process.
He stops that cocky grin reappearing on his face. "Is that so?"
You nod, not daring to say a word back. You're getting impatient with him. He's been working you up for what felt like hours now. Your clit throbbing and sore even with the slightest brush of his head making your breath hitch. His precum and your juices smeared all over your pussy. You assumed he's felt a little bad for you, when he starts to slowly pushing the tip of his cock through your entrance. Truth be told he could do this all night long if he wanted.
Eddie stills for a moment, only letting his tip split you open. Your head falls back against the pillows. Finally, you thought, but your relief was cut short when he removed it again. You huff in frustration and let the neediest whimper he's ever heard. Eddie relentlessly teasing your pussy as he slides his length through your folds. Slapping and nuding your clit with his length. Your body all sticky with sweat. Everytime his cock hit your tender neglected clit you begged and pleaded to him. You're teetering on the cusp of an orgasm and he doesn't seem to want to let you. Not right now, at least. He just keeps building it up only to rip you of the chance.
Your face twisting in a grimace. Why does he keep teasing you? You already learned your lesson. You were beginning to think he wasn't going to give you what you wanted after all.
"God!, you're so!-" Your sentence cut short when he licks his fingers and slaps your pussy just hard enough to shut you up. You gasped more so from shock.
The pain and pleasure mixed together was something you never thought you'd enjoy until tonight.
You instantly calmed down.
"Theeere she is." He purrs, pushing his thumb in your mouth as you instinctively suck on it wishing it was his cock.
"Ya ready for me?."Eddie asked, aligning himself back up at your entrance. He removes his thumb, allowing you to speak. A string of spit connecting you to him.
"m'ready." You rasped.
You feel the head of his cock right by your opening. "Oo!, yes, I'm--im ready." Your body burning with desire to feel him. To finally have him.
His thick tip gingerly splitting you open. Eddie getting just a few inches deeper than the last time, but it was enough to almost make you scream. He pauses to put both of his hands on each side of your head.
"Good....because I'm gonna make sure you can't walk in the morning." His assured speaking low.
You knew he was serious about that. You and Eddie have been yearning for one another for so long. You just know the moment he's inside of you, it is going to take all of his strength not to lose total control. You look into his eyes, pleading for him to give you more. You want it all. You need it all. You don't care how sore you're going to be tomorrow. Your brain clouded by lust and the need to be fucked by him.
Eddie pushes in a little more and dips his head to bite down hard on your shoulder. Your hands moving to tug at his hair. The feeling of you tightening up around him as he breaches past your opening was almost too much for him to handle. He can't cum. Not yet. He's just getting started. Eddie tries to focus on anything else. He's talked a big game to you up until this point. He needs to last, but you just feel so good. You're so wet and warm. You hug him just right, and he's not even all the way in yet. You're perfect.
"More." You begged, not knowing Eddie was keeping still for a particular reason.
"Patience baby, gimme a sec." He exhaled a long breath before kissing your shoulder where his teeth marks now were. "Tryin not to cum."
"Shit!, you're ju-just so fucking tight." He grunted.
You didn't know you were having this type of effect on him. You won't lie it feels nice knowing that. You lean up to kiss him. Your lips lazily press to his. You were soft and delicate with him. You moan in his mouth when you feel him pushing in a little deeper.
He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours. His breathing is ragged. He's sinking in inch by inch agonizingly slow. Trying to let you accommodate him. "You're so good, you know that?"
"S-so mmmfph, so good-- jus' for me." Eddie stammered. His jaw tightening.
"Jus' for you." You murmured against his lips.
"Yeah?" Only me?" Eddie questioned his tongue sneaking out to lick your parted lips.
You felt light-headed. Your mind clouded with so much lust. Every touch and kiss from him was deliberate and sensual. From the way he spoke to you to the way he caressed every curve of your body. You've never been touched this way. No one's ever made you feel this like before. There wasn't an inch of skin where his lips and hands hadn't been.
"Only you." You're breathless.
Eddies wild hair fell over his shoulders. His chain dangling by your face.
The events leading up to this moment were almost too good to be true, you both thought. The phone call. The coffee shop run in. The date. Everything felt surreal. Yet here you are together. He relished in how trusting you were of him so quickly.
Eddie kept pushing himself further inside of you until he was almost bottoming out completely. You wince slightly at the sudden stretch and size of him. "It's okay, relax for me." Eddie coaxed you as he tenderly rubbed at your side, helping you relax. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to get adjusted to his size some more. "I-I can take it...fuck, don't stop."
"Oh, is that so?" Eddie taunted.
"Ya sure I'm not too big for you?"
Swiftly shaking your head no. " jus' please Eddie."
You let out another whine, bucking up your hips. His taunting coming to a full stop when he pushes his cock in a little deeper.
"Goddamn, you're tight," He said through clenched teeth. His nostrils flaring.
Eddie carefully pulls out, leaving just the tip in. Only to slam back inside you, bottoming all the way out this time, letting out a long moan as he did. His length stretching your walls, hitting all the right spots. You've never been this full ever. He felt like he was in your stomach. He starts thrusting into you at a steady pace helping your pussy get warmed up to him.
His bed squeaked with every thrust he gave. He pulls his cock almost all the way out and glides it back in with so much more ease now. You're making the prettiest little noises for him. Your nails scratching over his over broad shoulders and down his back. "Mmm, Eddie, you feel so good."
"G'nna cum inside you." He grunted.
"F-fill you up...get you so full of me." He's blabbering, not really paying attention to what he's saying. "Want, ooh shit!-"
His words cut short when he felt your walls squeezing him. His hips rocking harder against yours. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass. The soft curls between his legs getting soaked in your juices. "Need your cum in me pleeease."
"Don't stop, Eddie!" Your throat burns the louder you called out his name. His cock rubbing that spongey spot on your walls just right. You can't think straight anymore he feels amazing.
His jaw clenches, and you can hear his teeth gritting together. "Ya need it that bad, huh?"
"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna give it all to you." Eddie panted his voice raspy.
"You dirty girl." Eddie tried to tease again. He sounded like he was about to lose his voice."S'needy, begging for my cum."
You let out a loud whiny moan when he rolled his hips. His cock hitting a new angle on your walls. He moves to pin your wrists down beside your head. A shiver sends down your spine when he looked into your eyes. He's rough but gentle all at the same time.
Your juices, so creamy coating felt like his cock was drowning in it. His balls and pelvis now completely saturated. The both of you moaning in unison. He pulls his hips far back, slamming them against yours roughly. Your pussy making the loudest pornographic noises as Eddie continued pumping his cock inside you. The sound of skin slapping echoes off his bedroom walls.
"Oh my god!" You cry out.
He grips your wrists tighter, and you feel like your hands are going numb. Your bodies glistening with beads of sweat. "M'getting s'close."
The coil in your belly tightens the faster your orgasm approaches you again. Eddies cock pumping in your pussy at an almost brutal pace. Your breasts bouncing in his face as he pounds you in his mattress. "Gettin close too, baby."
"Gettin reeeeal fuucking close." Eddie grumbled as his hips rammed against yours.
Eddie, let's go of one of your wrists to snake it down and play with your clit. His calloused fingers rubbing tight circles on your aching bud. Your pussy clenching around his length.
"Fuuucking, christ." He cursed under his breath.
Your orgasm approaching you rapidly. His skilled fingers pressed down harder as he rubbed your clit. You throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. Eddie takes the opportunity to bite and suck on the tender skin. Your vision goes black, and there is a ringing in your ears. Your head is blank it felt like time stood still. You cum around his cock hard. Your orgasm hitting you in waves. Your legs shake violently around his waist.
Eddie stops thrusting for a moment to watch you come undone. "That's it. That's my good girl cum all over my cock."
"That'a girl." He praised as your orgasm left you unable to speak for some minutes.
He starts rocking his hips into yours. Your head is cloudy as you come down from your high. Your clit still throbbing and your walls still pulsating as your release fades away. Eddies thrusts are getting sloppier as his orgasm is quickly approaching him. Your pussy squelching louder when his cock glides in and out of you. The sound ringing in your ears. His sheets are an absolute mess from you.
"I-i gon-...I'm gonna cum." He moans fumbling over his words. His cock twitched and with a few more powerful thrusts he's spilling hot ropes of cum deep within you coating your walls. He doesn't stop pumping his cock until he's milked himself of every drop.
He collapses all of his weight on you. The two of you lay like that for a brief couple of minutes. You felt him easily remove himself from you, and you frown at the loss. His cum mixed with yours dripping out of your opening and onto his bed. Your entire body felt weak. His face flushed a light pink, making the freckles on his cheeks more noticeable.
Eddie sits up and moves from on top of you. He reaches over to grab a pre rolled joint and light it.
"Shit." He whispered to himself.
He brings the joint to his dry lips and takes a long puff. "Want some?"
"No thanks." You declined still feel dizzy, almost drunk like.
"Wanna take a bath together?" He takes a few more puffs before putting his joint out in the ash tray. The weed mellowing him out.
"Yeah... but I can't. I don't think I can walk." You confessed. Your legs still trembling from earlier.
He smiles proudly. "Here, lemme help."
Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Eddie walked over to you, helping you stand. Your face heating up when you felt his cum sliding down your legs. "I should probably change these sheets, too."
Eddie helps you to his bathroom and sits you on the toilet while he gets the water ready.
"Come on, lets you in." He takes your hand and gently helps raise your legs over the tub, so you don’t fall.
You sat back and hummed, feeling your muscles relax immediately. Eddie gets in behind you and brings your back to lay on his chest. The warm water soothing you both as you clean each other. You feel like you could fall asleep right here if he let you.
"Hey, I'm gonna go change the bed you stay here." He gave you a long, passionate kiss before getting out of the bath.
You watched him put a towel around his waist and leave. You take the opportunity to clean off your face of whatever makeup was left. Hugging your knees to your chest, you feel sleep slow creeping up on you.
Eddies loud voice echoing off the tiled walls of the bathroom startles you awake. "Let's get you dried off."
Your legs much stronger now than they were before. There was a small ache between your legs where he was once buried. You try to ignore it for the time being but you know you're really going to feel it in the morning.
Eddie gives you one of his sweaters to wear, so you'll keep warm. Your dress from earlier discarded somewhere amongst the mess. You jump back into bed next to Eddie. Nestling yourself under his arm curling up in his side. The damps ends of his hair dripping little droplets of water down his chest.
"So, uhh, what got into back there in the van?" He spoke out of nowhere.
"Hmm?" You faked like you didn't just hear him.
"You heard me."
Pushing your face in his side, trying to hide from him.
"What was that?" He jested, putting his hand behind his ear as if he didn't hear you the first time.
"I SAID! I got a little jealous. You huffed.
"Jealous? Of what?" He was in utter disbelief.
"The girls at your show...and that stupid bra on your mic stand." You sit up, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Oooh, my god!" He belly laughs.
"It's not funny." You argued, squinting your eyes at him. A hint of a smile dancing on your lips.
"You're right. It's not funny." He chuckles. His hand goes to cover his mouth, hiding his smile.
".....next time they throw their bras at me, I'll just sling shot them back."
"Thank you! That's all I'm asking for." You exclaimed dramatically.
He snorts, pulling you back against him to cuddle. You spent the rest of the night joking and making fun of one another lovingly. He admitted he should make you jealous more often if it gets you to act like that. That was quickly disregarded when you shot him a very dirty look.
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It's been a full year since that night. Eddie and you became inseparable. He's since graduated from college and got a good gig as a radio disc jokey for a local radio station. The concept of the show was almost the same, but there were some few minor changes. His "adult segment" got watered down to be more radio friendly. Eddie hated the censorship but figured once he made a bigger name for himself, he wouldn't worry about that stuff anymore.
You were in your last semester of college when Eddie finished. He asked you the moment he got his offer if you wanted to work with him and be his assistant. Not passing up that opportunity to spend more time with him. You said yes with zero hesitations.
"Come on, let me show you our studio." Eddie dragged you into a room filled with various mics and a desk. There was a light above him with glowing orange letters reading "On Air."
The last time you saw him, this excited about anything was when his old friends came to watch him walk across the stage. You didn't think you could be more proud. His eyes lighting up when he showed you the name plate on the door. "That's my name, babe." He tapped on the wooden door.
Tonight was his first show at his new studio. He was nervous but knew most of his listeners were still the same. You sat on the chair next to him. Your short tennis skirt hiking up at little. Eddie kept turning to glance at you while he read from a script. When he would cut to commercial break, his hand would wander up your thigh. You squeezed them shut and smacked him away.
"We can't do that, not now." You whisper yell at him.
"Who says? Who's gonna know?" He whispered back.
He bites his lip and groans. "Baby, I've been needing you all day."
"Sit in my lap. I'll behave." He pats his thighs giving you an innocent smile.
You knew better, but move to sit on his lap anyway. Your skirt lifted and showed the lace of your panties to him as you sat down.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard when we get home. He promised.
Your eyes widened when you felt his semi hard cock pressing against your ass.
"Ya know what, since you've been teasing me, I think I'm gonna tease you." He said, lowly licking the shell of your ear. One of his large hands running up your thigh to cup your sex.
"B-but I'm not." You tried to defend yourself.
"You are, you know how I get when you wear this." He picks up the hem of your tennis skirt. You do know how he feels about the it. He bought the article of clothing for you for a reason. He never could keep his hands off you when you wore it.
Eddie couldn't keep his hands off you, period, but the skirt wasn't helping.
The ads were still playing over the radio when Eddie suggested for you to announce the next song coming up after his brief segment.
"Wait, I have a much better idea." Eddie leaned to unbuckle his belt and pull the zipper of jeans down. "Lift up for sec."
You lean forward to lift up off his lap. Your ass is almost on full display. The only thing keeping you from him was the sheer material of your panties. You can hear him groan before running a finger along your covered slit. A wet patch already forming very noticeably. "I can't wait to get you home, but this will do for now."
He pulls his cock out from his pants stroking it before running his thumb over the leaking tip. He slaps and rubs it between your covered folds as you lean a little over his desk. He presses down on the head and hisses. You thought he was going to jerk off until he was back on the air, but you were dead wrong.
Eddie pulls your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to him. He slaps his tip at your opening from behind, dipping it in ever so slightly before pulling it away. Your jaw dropping open when you felt his tip nudging in your entrance. Your palms sweating on top of his desk, as you're feeling him part you open. The head of his cock shining with your slick. You can hear him groaning again with frustration that he can't fuck you the way he wants. "Sit on it."
"Wh- now! Right now?" You panicked.
"People are listening, Eddie." You tried to argue, but he shook his head.
"So? That's never stopped you before." He had a point. A very good point. You don't even need to turn around to see the smug, expression on his face. "Come on baby, I just w'nna feel you."
"Okay." You spoke softly, giving in to him.
You help hold his length as he aligns himself up with your opening. You slowly sink down on his length, taking him all in a few inches at a time. You sit down fully on him. He feels so deep this way. Eddie grips your hips to hold you perfectly still. He leaned back in his chair to get relaxed as his segment was about to begin. His eyes are half lidded. Eddie's already struggling not to cum and you haven't even done anything yet. His cock nudging at that sweet spot on your walls. "Ooh!, c-can you just push up a little."
"I-i can't take staying so still...its-" You pleaded. You would do all the work yourself while he continues on with his show if meant you could feel his cock stroking your walls.
He cuts you off.
"Shh, no." He quietly told you, covering his mic up his mic as the show was now starting.
"Alright, every b-body." Eddie tried reading his introductions but stumbled over his words when you purposely clench around his cock.
He shot you a look from behind. You were definitely going to pay for that one. You fidget in his lap, rocking your hips from side to side.
"If you don't keep still I'm gonna bend you over this desk and fuck you live on air." He warned, and you stopped moving straight away.
Was he serious? He couldn't be. You thought to yourself, but if you only saw his face right now, you'd know he was being dead serious.
He cleared his throat. "Alright, everybody, before we get started, my lovely girlfriend here is gonna announce the next song."
"Aren't ya." He thrusts up hard with no warning, making you gasp in the mic. His cock nestled so deep within you. You cover your mouth to keep from moaning out loud.
"Mmhmm y-yep." You knew these next couple of minutes were going to be torture. Absolute torture for you.
You take a long, deep breath.
"The next song....up...is Man in a box." Your voice shakey. Your hands squeeze Eddie's thighs. He's grinding you in his hips and bucking up. You bite back another moan, trying to escape your lips.
"Ah, no honey, that's not the right song. we just heard that one." Eddie's mocking you now. He knows how hard it is for you to keep quiet, and he's doing everything in his power to get you to break.
"Baby, you're being too obvious they're gonna know." Eddie thrusts his hips harder, shaking the desk. A soft moan escapes your lips. You try to play it off and clear your throat. You can feel Eddie laughing behind you. His chest vibrated as he watched with amusement.
You're trying to so hard not make anything noticeable. The people listening have probably caught on by now, you're sure of it.
He leans forward to show you were to read.
"Here, baby." He pointed on the script laying in front of you.
"O-oh, right, my mistake." You swallow hard.
His cock hitting a new angle every time he bucks up. Your head felt dizzy. Your slick making a mess of him and you. You're getting so close to cuming. Your walls so sensitive as your boyfriends cock spreads you open.
You breathe out and read what's on the piece of paper in front of you.
"Focus." He whispered at you.
You nodded rapidly.
"The next song is by the band The Pixies called Here c-comes your man." You squealed that part out when Eddie's hand lifted up your ass and slammed you back down. He smashed his face in your back to cover up any grunts he might make.
He squirms around his chair, holding you tightly to his lap. He lifts you off him the moment he felt your pussy flutter on his thick cock. He knows he wont be able to resist fucking you. Eddie most definitely knows you won't be able to keep quiet much longer either. You whimpered, feeling empty. You were so close, and he didn't let you finish.
"Be a good girl and I'll let you cum later." Eddie struggles to tuck his cock back in his pants with a satisfied grin plastered on his face. There's an aching throb between your legs.
"Promise?" You sit back next him in your chair. Disappointment written all over your face.
"I promise." He pouted right back at you, sticking out his bottom lip.
There were many times Eddie did those things with you live on his show. One time you both almost got caught right in the middle of fucking when his boss was paying a visit. The room was a mess where he slung everything off his desk to lay you on top of it. The other time was when you accidentally hit the unmute button on his mic, and for about five minutes, Eddie's listeners got to hear you both going at it on his desk. The equipment rattling and wood creaking. You begging him to go faster. The sound of his hand slapping your ass from behind.
Yes, he was almost fired from there, too, but he got them more media attention, so he got stayed. His show became number one locally, and then a few years later, Nation Wide.
Eddie would interview big names he used to only dream about. From Ozzy to James Hetfield and so on. He had a personal feud with Howard Stern when Eddie called him out on his show. He absolutely loathed that man.
You and Eddie stayed together throughout it all and even moved in with one another after your graduation. You still worked as his assistant in his now much bigger studio. Everything was going very well for the two of you so far, and you can't wait to see what else the future holds.
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lxclerc · 6 months
Text
𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐢 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔
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summary... in which karma finally bites you in the ass faceclaim... christina nadin pairing... charles leclerc x reader warning... none so far. petty charles and petty reader
note... i need everyone to pretend like all the text messages are in french. also no charles yet but lots of charles in the next part.
series masterlist main masterlist
part one → current part (part two) → part three
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charles leclerc has never been on your podcast. it isn’t for the lack of trying per se but rather out of your own sheer stubbornness and need to protect your pride. chasing red, the motorsport podcast you’d built from the ground up, consists of you and your best friend emma. months ago, emma had emailed charles inviting him as a guest with emma alone as the host. it’s already unusual in itself considering you’re in every episode, but charles had replied to the email with a sort of snarkiness you aren’t used to but definitely not surprised to hear. 
dear emma,
if y/n wants me as a guest then she can contact me herself. thank you. sincerely, charles
it had been short and to the point and you’d rolled your eyes when you read it. if charles wanted to be petty then you’re certainly not about to appear on his doorstep begging him to come on your show. charles seems to forget that he’s gotten his pettiness from you. 
still, after that particularly irritating email, emma had been badgering you to explain what had happened. charles leclerc is the nice guy after all. who else would let ferrari fuck them over as much and still scream forza ferrari at the top of his lungs? according to emma, it’s simply impossible for charles to respond in such a way without some hidden history between the two of you. 
and she wouldn’t be wrong but you’d been able to keep that under wraps pretty well. you’ve kept your past right where it belongs – in the past and in your opinion, there’s simply no need to dig up old bones. of course, up until now as you watched with furrowed brows as your name trended on twitter. it seems no matter how deep you bury old bones, it comes back and haunts you – or in your case, bites you in the ass.
“you dated him!” you winced at emma’s sharp tone. you already feel a headache coming in – you hadn’t expected to be shoved down memory lane at a random tuesday if you’re being completely honest and you’re definitely not in the right state of mind to be dealing with it. 
“keep your voice down,” you say, putting your phone down and allowing yourself a sip of your coffee as you try to ignore emma’s incredulous looks. 
“you dated him?” she says again, in a sarcastic whisper this time that made you roll your eyes. you hated her sometimes. you love her of course, but you really hate her sometimes. 
and you hate whichever idiot got ahold of those photos. everyone seems to have so much to say but they can’t seem to comprehend that the charles and y/n in those photos aren’t the same charles and y/n now. you’re both grown now, no longer little kids fueled only with dreams and ambitions. now you’re fueled entirely by coffee and the will to not stalk his social media. 
you’re over charles leclerc. you’re so over him that you spend all your time applauding yourself just how over him you are. of course, you’ve seen charles around after the break up. you both live in monaco after all. it’s impossible not to accidentally pass by each other walking to the grocery store or be at the same restaurant or the same party. you’ve seen him around the paddock multiple times but neither of you say anything. sometimes your eyes meet and the familiarity in each other is difficult to ignore but mostly, you just walk past each other as though you’re strangers, as if you hadn’t spent your childhood memorizing the patterns in his eyes. 
you groaned at where your mind went. this is the last thing you want to be thinking – or talking – about at eight in the morning. you blame twitter and emma entirely for your predicament. it doesn’t help that you share an apartment with her too. 
“no comment,” you say finally at her expectant face. 
her little evil grin terrifies you as he picks up a stack of papers from the coffee table, placing it in front of you. “i’d suggest clearing the air between the two of you before thursday because you’re spending vegas with ferrari.” 
you almost spit your coffee as you grabbed the paper and double checked. unfortunately, there it is in plain sight, your sponsor team right next to ferrari. the document contains your schedule for vegas as an F1 presenter. you’ve been lucky enough not to be assigned to ferrari since you’ve been assigned the job three months ago. but alas, all your bad karma seems to have finally caught up with you today as you read through your itinerary, the first words being an ice breaker game with carlos sainz and charles leclerc proceeding with a hot lap with one of the drivers on friday. 
oh jesus christ, you’re screwed. 
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yourusername
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liked by arthur_leclerc and others
yourusername vegas ready and sporting red for the weekend!
view all comments...
emmauser very excited for the weekend
⤷ yourusername 🖕🏻
⤷ username emma what do you know
username god have answered all my prayers and forced y/n and charles to finally interact
username watching the childhood lovers to strangers, forced proximity trope in real time
⤷ username i am so invested actually
username her and charles are my roman empire
⤷ username they have consumed every nook and cranny of my feeble brain im afraid
username now what in the booktok is going on
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taglist: @nhlfs @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody @roseseraj @celestialams @1655clean @minkyungseokie @ssararuffoni @f1verse @honethatty12 @formulas-bitch @nmw-am @lorarri @erikasurfer @thievin-stealing @glow-ish @raevyng @scenesofobx @coffeehurricanes
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that-sarcastic-writer · 6 months
Text
A Love Game II
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DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader
Summary: You, Leon, in his bedroom. What could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it children), p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms (f receiving), hair pulling, minor choking, creampie, praising, soft!dom!leon, Leon has kinda of an innocence kink, parent/teacher dynamic, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, foul language
WC: 4.4k
A/N: yay I made it past the 2 part mark for a "series" how exciting. I hope I can post this in peace. For anyone that cared enough to want more parts, here we are. There's some more in the works. What do we say? Do we want to see this second date and leon being dumb and in love? Dunno when those will come out but, for now here's this.
Part I | Universe Masterlist
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Were you really driving halfway across town to get laid?
Absolutely. 
Leon didn't even have to ask you twice. It wasn't like you had much going on anyway. And you really wanted to see him.
You made it three, maybe four feet into his apartment, enough for you to take a look at him. Hair wet like he had just taken a shower, shirtless, and only a pair of pajama pants hung from his hips. That man was without a doubt, trying to drive you insane. Though you had concluded you were in fact insane, the second you said yes to going out with him. 
"Hi." You stood in front of him, the scent of his body wash taking you in. A mixture of light bourbon and vanilla. It wasn't overbearing, but it was definitely intoxicating. That, or you were already drunk on the thought of him.
"Hi." His lips irked up and he leaned down, lips barely brushing over yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair. "I really wanted to see you again." 
You were in his bedroom in record time. Somehow in between hushed laughs and messy kisses, always doing your best to stay quiet. But ultimately, he closed the door behind you, his body pressing you against it as he kissed you.
His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both. 
"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?" 
Your jaw hung agape, a sharp shudder leaving your lips at his words laced with confidence and dominance. Christ, the things this man made you feel. You felt like you would have slipped right onto the floor had he not been pressing you against the door with his body. It took a long hard look from the ocean of blue that were his eyes for you to even speak. 
"I.. Yeah. I'll be quiet. I just.." You swallowed, lip quivering with anticipation, your hands landing flat against his chest, attempting to grip at something other the hairs across his chest. "I need you, please."
Leon watched you ever so amused, flashes of lust and need overcoming his otherwise stoic eyes. And his lips irked up with malice. 
"You sweet girl," He gripped your chin between two fingers, tilting your head ever so slightly to look over your pretty face. The need to see this face covered in tears as you begged him to come overcame his rational mind. All he could think about was ruining you. "How is it possible for such a pretty and innocent looking thing to ever be so needy?" 
"You. You do this to me. I've never—" You wetted your dry lips, a wave of heat flashing between your thighs as your voice died in your throat. 
I've never wanted to be ruined by someone. 
I've never wanted to be fucked into nothing. 
Until I met you. 
The words never left your lips, though. All you could do was look at him with those pleading eyes of yours, hoping he would understand. 
And fuck, did he understand. 
His mouth was on yours without another word being spoken. You were more than eager to let him take over. His hands guided you carefully through his bedroom as his lips did with yours as he pleased. He sucked, pulled, and bit all he wanted. And the sounds that would sit in your throat every time he did so only made him all the more eager to have you on his bed. 
Your feet were no longer on the floor, and your back hit something soft and warm. With a soft gasp you landed on your back and his body encased you under him. His lips once again found your neck, making work of your skin as his hands fell down your body. He forced your hips off the mattress long enough to push your sweatpants and panties down your hips. You kicked them down the rest of the way with a shiver, watching through half lidded eyes as he lifted his body up enough to settle beside you. Your eyes followed him with confusion, for a moment forgetting about the cold air now settling between your thighs. 
"You, Miss, are going to keep your legs wide open for me, okay?" A large hand fell on your thigh, fingers digging into the tender skin for a second before he pulled your legs as far apart as they went. You gasped, unconsciously flinching at the cold air. Leon slightly narrowed his eyes at you. "I remember you like to squirm, and close your legs. But these better stay open, or I will fingerfuck you until you cry. Understood?" 
Your lips parted, but you simply nodded, not saying any words out loud. 
"Use your words baby, I know you can." 
You breathed out a shudder, "Yes, I.. I understand." 
Leon flashed you a pleased smile as he positioned himself on his side, his chest pressed against your shoulder and he used his legs to trap one of yours, making sure they stayed open. He didn't trust your self-control very much right now. 
"That's a good girl." He leaned down, his lips pulling your own into a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was heated and it was fucking messy. But it was enough to distract you from where his hand was about to go. 
His lips parted from yours just enough to leave room for him to spit into his fingers, before his lips were back on yours. Your mouth didn't stay open long though, for the second his fingers grazed your already sensitive clit, you gasped. His lips curved up, his nose brushing against yours as he rubbed slow circles around the nub. It was slow, agonizing, but fuck, it felt so good. 
"Oh my—" the words fell from your lips in a quiet whimper, your head falling to the side into Leon's chest as you attempted to quiet yourself, but the longer his fingers worked you the stronger the ache in your stomach became. "Fuck, Leon." 
"I know, sweetheart. You're so wet for me. Is this what you wanted me to do to you earlier? Finger you wide open in your bathtub?" He spoke into your ear, his voice was raspy and so full of arousal with each word he said. 
You tried to respond, but when you felt two long fingers slip into your wet cunt all you could do was scream. You weren't sure just how muffled the sound was but Leon didn't say anything about it. He definitely heard you, but that only made him want to work his fingers harder. He loved the sound of it, too, the lewd sound of his palm slapping against your wet cunt each time he snapped his wrist. It was his favorite sound— after your moans, of course. 
"Shit. Shit. Leon— a-ah—" Your voice was broken as you weakly grinded against his palm, but his fingers were buried so deep already all you could was desperately chase with your hips. Leon only found this all the more arousing. 
"Mhmm, yeah, just like that. Fuck yourself on my hand just like that. You look so goddamn pretty." He spat, watching as he curled his fingers against that one spot that made your squirm. The sight of you, pathetically grinding against his hand as you weakly attempted to stay quiet shot straight to his cock. 
He needed to fuck you so goddamn bad. But he needed to focus. He could be selfish after. 
"Shit, baby, look at yourself. I don't think I've ever seen a more perfect sight." He made you watch, his free hand fisted around the roots of your hair and he held your head in place to watch as he slid his fingers in and out of your soaked cunt. His hand as well as your thighs were glistening with your slick.
The sight was absolutely filthy, the sound more so. But fuck that only made you want to come even more. You couldn't help it. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your mouth fell open in a silent cry, the wind-up in your belly getting tighter and tighter. 
"Please. Please Leon. I'm gonna come. I think I'm gonna come." The words came out in parts, high-pitched and in between pants. 
Leon bit his lip, feeling the tightness of your walls around his fingers and he hummed, letting go of your hair to clasp a large hand over your mouth. He was shifting his weight more on his side, and he slammed his fingers so hard and so deep his palm rutted against your clit. He was a smart man. The cry you would have let out then would have woken up anyone in that apartment, or next to it. 
"Let go for me, pretty, I got you." His fingers left your hole to rub harsh circles on your clit, his fingers so wet he didn't even have to spit on them again. 
Though, he did surprise himself with how fast he had started to learn your body, because the second that wave of blinding heat hit you, you were squirming on that mattress like you wanted to run away. He, admittedly selfishly so, slightly ground his own hips against your leg as he fingered you through your orgasm. He could only handle so much with the sounds you had been making and how you oh so desperately wanted to come. 
He watched your face, teeth digging marks into his bottom lip as his fingers slowly stopped their rhythm. Only when you couldn't take it anymore and you attempted to squirm away from him, that was. 
"You did so good, baby." His lips replaced his hand with a much gentle kiss. He pulled back as he sat up, slipping his coated fingers past his lips in the process. "You taste really fucking good, too." 
This man was going to be the fucking death of you. 
You breathed out long pants, your forearm over your forehead as you tried to bring yourself back down to earth. You watched him shuffle around a bit. Until he was once again above you, his massive arms caging your head. 
"You okay, pretty?" He ran a careful hand over your face, looking you over with tenderness. It warmed your heart just how gentle he could be after absolutely wrecking you. 
"Uh huh. I'm perfect." You gave him a lazy smile, throwing your arms around his neck to hold him closer. "Are you going to fuck me now, handsome?" 
Leon looked at you with surprise at your shot of confidence, but the look in your eyes was of need. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he tugged his pijama pants down his hips, kicking them off the rest of the way somewhere to join yours. Your sweatshirt was next, and Leon was more than pleased to find you bare under it. 
"Just the way you deserve, pretty girl." He pressed a long, hard kiss to your lips before he sat back on his knees. 
Your legs hung lazily over his hips, completely at his mercy as he slowly rubbed himself through your folds, covering himself in your slick. Your lips fell open into a soft whimper. Leon shot you a small grin, his blue eyes filled with a wave of lust not once leaving your face as he slowly slid into you. His own lips parted and a grunt fell from them as your walls took him in. It was intoxicating. He was fucking addicted to it. 
"Goddamn baby, you take me so well." He sighed out, grinding his hips ever so slightly, enough to make you whine. 
"Leon, please. Just take me." You whined, slightly grinding your hips to give yourself some relief. He tilted his head at you, both hands gripping your hips with a tight grip. 
"Why are we so needy today, hm?" He teased, lazily dragging his cock in and out, not stopping but also not giving you what you wanted. 
"Ugh— you! You do this to me." You all but shouted at him, instantly regretting your volume and you swallowed hard at the glare he shot you. 
"I swear to God if you woke up my daughter." He groaned and leaned down, picking up his pace without a warning. "I am so going to fuck this attitude out of you." 
Any and all witty comebacks you could have come up with then were lost the second he started to drill into you, the angle making you feel the little hairs at the base of his cock brush against your clit with each snap of his hips. Your body would have slid back and forth on the mattress had it not been for the tight grip he kept on your hips. You were sure you were going to have his fingers printed on your skin in the morning. But God, you didn't care at all. 
"Shit— shit Leon— you feel so—" You whined into the air, your head falling to the side to muffle your cries on one of his pillows.
"Feels good, baby?" He gave you a particular deep thrust that made you slide up the mattress and you nodded harshly. "Yeah?" 
"More—" You breathed out, mindlessly reaching for him, only finding his wrist. 
Leon bit his already puffy red lip, long strands of hair falling over his forehead as he moved above you, his body now hovering over yours. Your knees were now damn near next to your head as he kept fucking you into the mattress. The new angle made you see fucking heaven now. 
"Like that?" 
You barely missed his words entirely, you were so drunk on the feeling of his cock, on his scent now mixed with your own. You didn't know many things, but of one thing you were certain, you could never get enough of this man. 
"Yes, yes, yes." You chanted into the air, almost delirious, like a praise only meant for his ears. 
Leon grunted softly, leaning down to brush hid nose against yours. He spoke words of praise so quiet you would have missed them had he not been so close. Your hands were on his face, barely holding on to him for dear life. His lips found your wrist, then your palm and in an instant one of his hands gathered both of yours, pinning them both above your head. You were absolutely helpless and at his mercy. And you wouldn't want it any other way. 
"Are you gonna come for me, pretty girl?" He slurred the words against your cheek, his cock buried so deep it was only a matter of time before you fell apart. You gave him a half nod, mouth agape as quiet moans fell on his ears. "Yeah, you are. I want to feel you come on my cock, c'mon. Fuck— I need to feel you come on my cock again." 
"God Leon— fuck— I'm gonna—" Your back arched against his chest, toes curling as wave of pleasure overcame your body. And it only took the feeling of his thumb on your swollen clit to fall apart completely. 
His mouth covered yours as your body convulsed under his, your orgasm hitting you so hard you were squeezing the shit out of Leon's hand above you. He happily swallowed the cries from your mouth as he continued to drill into you, rutting himself against you. He could only control himself for so long. 
"Fuck me— Goddamn baby, you drive me crazy. You take me so fucking well." He grunted against your cheek, his free hand now sprawled across your neck. He didn't squeeze this time, he only held you as he gave you one, two more thrusts of his hips before he was spilling himself inside you. "Atta girl. Atta girl." 
His lips were lazy on your cheek, leaving gentle kisses in his wake. A drunken giggle left your lips at the slight tickle his stubble left on your skin. His hands were now beside your head and he lifted his head enough to look at you. 
"Doing okay, pretty?" He asked with this pussy-drunk smile on his face, one of his fingers brushing the side of your face, "hm?" 
"Yeah, I'm living my best life." You giggled softly, opening your eyes to find his sapphire ones staring sweetly at you. 
"Sure you are, with my dick deep enough to feel me in your stomach, what more could you ask?" He teased, his lips curved up into a smug grin. You widened your eyes at him and smacked his shoulder. 
"You're insufferable." You rolled your eyes at him and attempted to move from under him but he was a brick wall above you, he refused to move a muscle. 
"You adore me. Wouldn't be here otherwise." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and removed himself from you. His words lingered on your mind. You weren't sure what the fuck it was that you felt for this man, other than the utter need to be fucked by him. But outside of the obvious chemistry, you wanted to be around him, to be around Isabella. You couldn't help it. You were catching feelings for him and his little girl.
You watched with big eyes as he stood up and walked around the bed, you couldn't help but giggle a bit. He turned to shoot you a questioning glance. 
"You actually took your pants off today." 
Leon furrowed his eyebrows even more confused and looked down, in fact very naked, "Yeah?"
"You didn't last time," You laughed softly, sitting up, amused by the way his cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. 
"How would you know that? You were on your stomach, then on your back the whole night." He teased you back, making big eyes at you. 
"I heard your belt rattle the whole time.'" You rolled your eyes, now sitting on your knees at the edge of the bed to meet where he stood. He narrowed his eyes at you as he leaned down to meet your lips. 
"Guess I was that eager to fuck your brains out." He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he nudged to his bathroom. "Clean you up, then maybe, stay the night?" 
"Really? You scrunched up your face at him, eyes slightly widening at the idea of being in his bedroom while Izzy was down the hall. But you had to admit you couldn't say no to this man. "I mean, that'd be nice but—"
"Hey, don't worry. She doesn't have to know you're here if that's what's on your mind. We'll get there when we have to." 
We'll get there when we have to. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You weren't sure exactly when morning came. Leon had closed the blinds before getting into bed with you last night. Tiredly so, after he decided taking you one last time would be ideal. You had decided to spend the night with him. What was the worst that could happen, right? 
An embracing warmth surrounded your body, and it wasn't exactly the thick soft duvets that covered you. When sleep slowly slipped from you, your eyes fluttered open to find Leon. Your face was snuggled deep into his chest as his arms were wrapped around you, holding you close, keeping you warm. The bourbon and vanilla lingered on his skin and took you in like the sweetest of greetings. You smiled softly, snuggling further into him. Leon had been awake for a little while. But he refused to get up so as not to wake you, he simply held you, his fingers resting on your scalp soothingly. Only when he felt you stir awake did he move. 
"Morning, pretty." His low raspy voice filled your ears and you felt a pair of cold lips on your forehead. You hummed softly, lifting your head to find him already looking at you with those eyes. 
"Morning, handsome." You pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone as you laid your head on his chest. 
"You sleep okay?" You heard him mumble above you. You nodded.
"Slept nice and warm." You smiled, running your fingers over the prominent patch of hair on his chest. 
"I'm good at something after all." He snorted. 
You were about to respond with one of your witty comments when you heard a few rapid but soft knocks on the door. The doorknob turned a couple of times with no result since it was locked. You and Leon jumped into a sitting position at the sound. Leon in particular had a 'oh uh' look on his face. 
"Daddyyyyyy! Why is your door locked?" You heard Isabella on the other side of the door. 
You looked at Leon who was frantically looking on the nightstand for his phone. 
"Fuck. Goddammit." You heard him curse under his breath as he harshly stood up, shuffling around the nightstand. 
When the fuck did he leave his gun out last night? He groaned to himself. Walking across the room with his handgun in one hand and his phone in the other. Which you clearly didn't miss. 
"Leon, why do you have a gun right now?" You asked, anxiously holding the covers up to your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious and embarrassed. 
"Government issue. Forgot to put it in my safe last night." He answered over his shoulder as he went into his walk-in closet, he came out a minute later. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I completely forgot she had to get up early today. Let me get her in the shower then I'll be back, okay?" 
You pursed your lips softly, a bit disappointed you wouldn't be able to spend the morning with him. But it was understandable, his daughter was first, and it certainly wasn't time to introduce, well whatever the two of you were. He leaned down to capture your lips into an apologetic kiss. 
"'S okay. Go, take care of Izzy, I'll be here." 
He shot you a smile and nodded. He found his pants from the night prior and slipped on a random sweatshirt he found sitting on his dresser. He shot you a wink before he slipped out the door, closing it behind him. 
"Daddy." 
Leon was met with a very grumpy and frowny little girl as soon as he closed his bedroom door. His eyes widened at the sight of her with her arms crossed. 
"Yes, bee?" Play dumb. Why not? 
"Why was your door locked?" She repeated her question from earlier, sapphire eyes intensely staring him down. Like he was a suspect that needed intimidation and she was the agent doing the intimidating.
"'Cause I'm an adult and I can lock my door. What did I tell you about minding your business?" He gave her a look, but he wasn't being serious, not really. Her face didn't otherwise change, though. 
"I'm going to be late, daddy." 
"No, you're not. Isn't your ballet lesson at 9:00 a.m? It's 7:00 a.m." Leon rolled his eyes at his little girl and picked her up. She, of course, didn't protest at all. 
"Well, yeah, but I want breakfast." She rebutted. Leon couldn't help but chuckle at her. 
He took her to her bedroom, setting her on her bed before he walked to her closet. 
"Yeah, well, you're taking a shower first, bee, you stink." He snorted when she very loudly disagreed, that she did not, in fact, stink. 
"I do not! You do!" 
"I showered last night. I can't stink. Your nose doesn't work." He kept annoying her until he found her ballet clothes. He walked back to her bed, handing her the folded clothes. "Go on, go shower. Just don't get your hair wet, remember I have to put it up, okay?" 
"Okay daddy." Izzy happily took her clothes and skipped out of her bedroom, but not before popping her head back in to say, "Can I have waffles for breakfast please? With lots of syrup and bacon?" 
Leon looked at Izzy with soft eyes, his heart warming ever so slightly at his little girl, and he nodded. 
"Of course, Izzy. Whatever you want." He waved her away and she happily skipped, going on about her daddy being the best daddy in the world. He couldn't help but laugh to himself and at the wonderful daughter life decided to give him. 
When Leon returned to his bedroom he watched you hurry back to his bed like a child that just got caught doing something you weren't supposed to. He raised an amused eyebrow at you when you slightly bounced on his bed, eyes big as you tried to hide the smile on your lips. 
"You're so nosy." He chuckled, rolling his eyes at you. 
"What? I wasn't doing anything.." You bit your lip softly, holding back a giggle. "Just that your little girl has you wrapped around her finger."
If he had rolled his eyes any harder, they would have gotten stuck there. But the tiny curve on his lips told you he was more than happy about it. He shrugged as he stood in front of you, leaning down to your eye level. 
"She's not the only one." He grinned softly at the confused look you gave him. "I know it's soon but I can't stop thinking about you. You're sweet, absolutely gorgeous and you're kind to my little girl. So, maybe you'd like to try something with me?" 
"If you wanted to ask me on another date you could just say so, you know my answer." There was a playful smile on your lips as he leaned down to kiss you. 
"After I drop Izzy off at ballet? We could grab brunch, and, I don't know, let's do something you like. How does that sound, Miss?" 
Christ, you felt so stupid, so naive, like this could go all kinds of wrong but, what's the worst that could happen? 
“Sounds like a start, Mr. Kennedy.”
1K notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 20 days
Text
Teenage Dirtbag XIII
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JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron
Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, mentions of DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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➥ series masterlist
summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.
Your rescue just comes with a price.
“Okay,” the woman before you exhaled, looking at your paper work. “While broken, your nose should be much better in about three weeks.”
Rafe’s hand gently massaged your shoulders at that, standing at your side as the doctor gave you her final prognoses on your situation. Her dark eyes scanned the paper, humming to herself as she glanced at you. That particular action made your heart skip a beat, and you tried to ignore how nervous you felt. Rafe had done most of the talking—for obvious reasons—but you couldn’t forget how almost disbelieving she’d sounded when he told her what happened.
“I’d recommend icing it for about twenty minutes every 1-2 hours while awake, and I highly suggest taking some Ibuprofen while pain persists…”
Her words died in the air as she trailed off, a small sigh escaping as she flipped the paper.
“You’re going to experience some swelling and bruising for sure, but it’s that knee of yours I’m most concerned about.”
At that, she looked at you head on.
“You said you landed right on it?”
At your nod, she continued.
“I can’t imagine how fast you were falling to do this much damage. It’s definitely fractured,” she commented.
Your heart sank at that, and even though you’d long suspected this was more than just a bruised knee, you didn’t relish hearing it. You felt Rafe lean down, and you slowly blinked when he pressed his face into your hair, rubbing your arms in what you were sure was meant to be a soothing manner.
“What do we need to do?”
She lifted her gaze again at the sound of his voice, and you didn’t think you liked the way she looked at him.
“Rafe…right? You’re the boyfriend?” he nodded, and she spoke again. “We’ll be getting her a splint to hold her leg in place while the bone heals, and I’m making physical therapy mandatory.”
“Of course,” he said.
She looked at him for what felt like a long time before her eyes met yours again, much softer now.
“You’re going to need to stay off of it a lot, okay? We need to keep as much weight off of it as possible, and I’ll just go ahead and write you a prescription for Ibuprofen seeing as you’ll need it for both your nose and your knee.”
Just then Rafe’s phone vibrated, and you turned to look at him. He gently squeezed your arm as he looked at it, throwing you a small smile.
“Your parents are downstairs. I’m going to go get them,” he said, giving you a brief kiss on the lips. “Let me know what else she says.”
With one last final squeeze, he left you, and you weren’t stupid.
You knew it was a warning rather than comfort.
“It’s going to take about six weeks to heal. I’d personally even give it a week or two more just to be sure,” she continued once he was gone.
At your nod, she studied you, and with a sigh, she pressed her clipboard against her leg. You didn’t miss the way she glanced at the door, and you reached up before thinking better of it, tempted to touch your nose. You dropped your hand back into your lap.
“Your boyfriend said you fell…”
You nodded, swallowing.
“Yeah, I… I wasn’t paying attention,” you gave a bitter chuckle. “The stairs in his house are insane.”
She gave a slow nod.
“So, this happened at his house?”
“Yes.”
Her face was unreadable, and you watched the way she pursed her lips.
“…and where was he when this happened?”
You didn’t like her questions, nor the tone in her voice, and considering you were already on medication, the last thing you needed was to let something slip. You recalled Rafe’s harsh grip on your face just before answering the door for the EMTs, the way he’d sneered at you to behave. After all, this was your fault somehow, a mess you’d gotten yourself into, and he was going to be the one to clean it up.
“The bathroom. I thought he told you that…”
Her smile was slow.
“He did,” she confirmed. “I just wanted to rehash things, understand exactly what happened.”
At your slight frown, she continued, albeit reluctantly.
“We just don’t normally see these kinds of injuries with someone who fell down the stairs,” she admitted to you, and your heart sank. “The knee…sure…I suppose, but the broken nose…”
She hummed to herself.
“It’s a head on injury. Like something came straight at it.”
The silence between you was thick, and you forced yourself to speak.
“I don’t know what you’re getting at, but…that’s what happened,” you assured her.
You didn’t miss the slight way in which her face fell, and she glanced at the door again.
“Rafe Cameron… Is it safe to assume he’s Ward Cameron’s son?”
Your silence was answer enough, and before she could say anything else, you heard the man in question’s voice coming down the hall, your parents’ mixed within.
Your mother was ever dramatic, rushing to your side and almost touching your face before thinking better of it. You assured her you were fine, hating the tears in her eyes. Your father seemed just as worried, but he handled it better, only turning to the doctor to ask her everything he wanted an answer to. Your mother pressed her lips to your forehead, sniffling.
“Sweetheart, just what were you looking at to pay so little attention to where you were going, huh?”
It seemed more of a rhetorical question as she kissed your forehead again, going on about getting you home as soon as possible. You heard your father talking to the doctor about a wheelchair, and you glanced over just as Rafe came to stand by your bed again. His hand was gentle on your back.
“I’ll come over as soon as everything is finished up here. She doesn’t need to be on her feet, at all,” he said to her. “I already feel bad enough that I wasn’t around when it happened.”
“Oh hush, Rafe,” she told him, briefly pulling him into a hug. “You’re always looking after her, such a knight in shining armor, but you couldn’t have prevented this. Let’s just be glad it’s not much worse.”
She smiled at you, touching your chin, and you gave her a small one back.
When she looked away to join in on the conversation with your father and the doctor, Rafe’s hand slid up towards your neck. His fingers pressed into the skin, and a shudder crawled down your spine just as you heard him softly exhale. When you glanced up at him, those baby blues of his were already focused on you, and you blinked as he leaned in.
Mindful of your nose, he pressed a gentle kiss against your lips.
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“Oh, God.”
That was the first thing Sarah said as Rafe rolled you into the hallway.
You were wide-eyed at the sight before you, lips parting in both shock and apprehension. You weren’t surprised to see Ward waiting, even if the sight of him did make your stomach twist. Rafe—and his home—were involved, after all, so you expected the oldest Cameron to show up at the hospital too. You hadn’t expected, however, Sarah and her friends to be waiting with him. Even the sight of Kie stumped you, but not as much as the sight of JJ.
You hadn’t seen him—talked to him—since that night.
…and your heart both sank and soared.
You were too preoccupied with the sight of his troubled eyes to pay attention to the noise going on around you. Ward and Sarah were asking Rafe all kinds of questions while John B., Pope, Kie, and Cleo were fussing over you. You absentmindedly answered their questions, telling them you were fine, but the entire time you couldn’t look away from the blond.
You didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched as he ran his gaze over you, eyes hardening as he took in your bruised face and the splint on your leg. JJ, so unlike himself, was deathly silent, and no one seemed to notice but you. When his eyes met yours again, they softened a tad, his face falling, and you forced yourself to look away when you felt Rafe’s hands come down on your wheelchair again.
“I know, dad, but her parents are downstairs pulling the car around, and then I’m heading over there,” you heard him say from above you.
When you glanced over your shoulder, you noted the stony look on Ward’s face as he and Rafe stared each other down. You didn’t need to be a genius to guess what the tension was about, and you wondered why Ward ever thought that Rafe would care about treating you better. Especially when he knew you’d never leave him, and his daddy would be there to cover his ass every time.
Just then the older man fixed his gaze on you, face not so taught now.
“How are you feeling?”
You didn’t answer him right away, and at your silence, he at least had the gall to look sheepish.
“Fine,” you eventually said, just loud enough for him to hear, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about the guilt that passed through his eyes.
You looked away from him before he could respond, and you only smiled at Sarah when she told you she’d drop by later to check on you. The tension between Rafe and the rest of her friends was palpable, and you recalled the last time he’d even been almost this close to any of them—the night you’d fallen asleep at John B.’s place. It was an awkward situation seeing as they didn’t like him, and he definitely didn’t like any of them.
Just as Rafe pushed you past them, you heard the last voice you expected.
“Did you do this?”
Your heart dropped at those words, and both you and Rafe turned around in shock. Well, you did as best as you could in a wheelchair, anyway. You struggled to look around Rafe, but even if you couldn’t manage to, JJ’s voice was as clear as day. Your eyes were wide and disbelieving as you stared at JJ, but he wasn’t looking at you, at all.
His eyes were colder than you’d ever seen them—so unlike his normal easygoing self—and the short-sleeved shirt he wore showed the tightening of his arms at his side. You were sure you’d never seen JJ this angry, not even after the night Rafe had raped you for lying about going to John B.’s. The younger blonde’s lip was curled over his teeth as he stared your boyfriend down, and you reached out to touch Rafe’s arm just as he stepped away from you.
That didn’t go unnoticed by JJ.
“Are you asking me did I do this to my girlfriend?” your boyfriend slowly wondered, an edge in his voice.
“JJ, what the hell?” Sarah wondered, looking at him like he’d lost his mind.
JJ shook her hand off as she reached for him, moving towards Rafe.
Your attempt to stand only resulted in pain shooting through your leg.
“Yeah, I am…because I’m looking at her nose, and I’m thinking to myself ‘she got that from falling down the stairs’?” he scoffed. “You’re a piece of shit!”
You gripped the back of your chair as JJ shoved Rafe, forcing everyone else to jump into action as the severity of JJ’s anger became clear. Pope wasn’t enough to stop his friend from hitting Rafe, and you felt frozen as Ward hurried to hold Rafe back as he started to do the same.
“Hey, hey,” Ward screamed, grabbing the attention of other hospital personnel. “Get yourself together!”
Rafe struggled to listen to him, his angry gaze focused on JJ as Pope and John B. pulled the other blond back.
“I know you did this,” he spat, his voice echoing in the hall. “You’re such an asshole to her, and we’re just supposed to believe this bullshit?”
You felt helpless as you looked between them, feeling at fault. JJ only suspected the truth because he knew the true nature of your relationship with Rafe. If you’d never told him, he wouldn’t be so invested and bold in his accusations, and they wouldn’t be currently yelling at each other in the hospital. You swallowed, hating how upset JJ was.
By now, hospital staff as well as a security guard had joined you, and Ward was angrily conversing with them as he pushed Rafe to take you and go. JJ was still trying to get to him even as the security guard was threatening to arrest him, and as much as you didn’t want to, you reluctantly forced yourself to turn away.
However, that wasn’t before you noted the way Sarah looked between JJ and Rafe…and then finally you.
Your gaze was focused on your lap as Rafe angrily pushed you down the hall and farther from JJ. You could still hear the commotion from the other blond, and you fiddled with your fingers. Your heart felt like it was in your throat as Rafe pushed you along, a loud rush in your ears that was replaced by Rafe’s voice the moment you were truly alone.
“Why the fuck would he say that?”
Rafe had stopped pushing you, and when you looked up at him, he was already looking down at you. The look on his face was thunderous, and you leaned back some just as he started to lean in. His arm twitched, like he was seconds away from grabbing you, but he clearly decided against it, and you suspected it had something to do with the cameras.
“Why the fuck would he say that?” he quietly repeated, slower this time, and you swallowed.
“I don’t… Rafe, I don’t know.”
Your heart was threatening to leap from your chest, and your boyfriend sneered at you.
“You and JJ aren’t even friends…and all of a sudden he’s accusing me of hurting you?” Rafe tilted his head to the side with a scoff. “You see how strange that looks to me, right?”
“Rafe, I don’t talk to JJ. I don’t know why he would say that, I mean…”
You scrambled for something to tell him.
“You know how much he hates you,” you lazily threw your hand up. “You’re surprised that he would accuse you of hurting me?”
Rafe’s nostrils flared as he stared at you, looking between your eyes. You could tell that he was seriously considering that possibility, their rivalry and animosity towards each other no secret. When he reached up to touch your chin, you flinched, slowly blinking as he brushed his thumb along your skin.
“JJ’s always trying to start something with you, isn’t he?” you quietly wondered, and Rafe eventually hummed in agreement. “It’s not like anyone will believe him, anyway.”
You tried to ignore the memory of Sarah looking between you three in that hallway as Rafe finally nodded. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed convinced enough, and you didn’t allow yourself to relax until he was meeting your parents at their car.
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Rafe had pulled out of the driveway all of five minutes ago when a figure at your window was pulling it open.
Even if he hadn’t been texting you nonstop since you left the hospital, you expected it. The scene JJ had caused was on repeat in your mind, and it was hard to make sense of all the emotions you felt. On the one hand, it warmed your heart that he cared so much, but his boldness to stand up to Rafe—especially so publicly—worried you. It was like JJ hadn’t considered the ramifications of his actions and how they could possibly come back on you.
Not to mention, you still hadn’t quite sorted out how you felt about the last time you were alone with him.
With that being said though, in the wake of recent events, you found yourself pushing that to the back of your mind for the time being. You felt that was something you could figure out later because with one look at the blond as he slipped through your window frame, you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over. JJ was now the one person you could be completely vulnerable with. You didn’t have anyone else, and the day’s events came crashing down on you.
You smiled in the face of that doctor—even your own parents—and lied about what happened to you. You’d had to welcome Rafe’s touch, accept comfort from the same hands that had done this to you. Recalling the way your mother had expressed appreciation for your boyfriend made your stomach turn, and when JJ quickly approached you, you let him take your face into his hands.
“I fucking knew it,” he murmured, pressing his face into your hair. “I knew it.”
You wanted to tell him what an idiot he was to make a scene like that, but you couldn’t manage to stop crying. You reached up to rest your hands on his forearms, sobbing against him as you pressed your forehead to his chest. Your entire frame shook, and you fought to get yourself together, knowing that Rafe wouldn’t be gone that long.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” you managed to say, pulling away and looking at him.
JJ at least looked sheepish, and if you knew him as well as you liked to think you did, then you knew he regretted it almost as soon as you’d left. His own blue eyes shined as he looked at you, and you watched him struggle to swallow.
“I know,” he quietly admitted. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
He gently grazed your cheek, looking over your face.
“I just… When I saw you? I wanted to be sick,” he told you. “I wanted to bash his face in…because I knew he did it.”
You looked down at that.
“I was really scared, JJ,” you confessed, voice almost inaudible. “He threw me, and…and I couldn’t stop falling.”
More tears fell.
“I was really scared,” you tearfully choked out.
He pulled you into his arms again, cheek resting against his shoulder, and your lashes fluttered at the way his hands fell from around you in search of your own. His fingers intertwined with yours, and your conflicting emotions about JJ reared their ugly heads again.
He was kind to you and fiercely protective, and he wasn’t afraid to stand up to Rafe, but the night in which you’d slept with him was so confusing. You’d been drunk and upset—because of Rafe—and JJ hadn’t exactly listened to any of your protests…but he was so kind to you. You could’ve tried harder to make him see you hadn’t been quite ready for that, this was true, but was that supposed to be on you? He hadn’t listened…
…but he was so kind to you.
It was the first time you’d had sex with anyone without being afraid, and surely that had to count for something. The whole thing could’ve used better communication, but you certainly didn’t feel the same by the end of the night. In fact, you’d happily pulled him closer and was eager to feel him inside of you again. By the end of that night, you’d wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
It’d started off weird…but JJ was no Rafe.
Your first time with Rafe wasn’t even comparable to your first time with the blond that was currently holding you. JJ made you feel safe, and maybe it was like he’d said before. Maybe your relationship with Rafe just made you scared to do anything for yourself, scared to let yourself be loved properly.
“Where did he go?” he wondered after some time.
“Home,” you whispered. “Ward’s mad at him.”
When you pulled away to look at JJ, there was a slight frown on his face at that.
“Ward knows Rafe did this, and…he’d promised to be better. He-.”
“…is an idiot for thinking Rafe would actually treat you right. He’s just as bad as his psycho son,” JJ scoffed.
You didn’t argue with JJ on that, and when you looked at him again, he was running his eyes along your nose and the surrounding area. You couldn’t decipher all of the emotions on his face, but you could tell that he was sad, and he closed his eyes before turning away.
“I hate him.”
Sometimes you hated him too.
Mostly, you were just scared of him.
“They gave you some medication for it, right?” he wondered, looking at your nose again before briefly glancing at your knee.
“Yeah,” you told him. “They said my nose will take three weeks and my knee will take at least six.”
“Jesus,” you heard him murmur as he glanced away, jaw tight. “I don’t get how he can do that to you.”
His hand tightened on yours when he met your gaze again. His fair hair was going every which way, some hanging onto his forehead, and his blue eyes sparkled in the light of your bedroom. JJ looked so sad and beautiful as he gazed at you.
“You’re…you’re probably the sweetest girl I’ve ever met,” he quietly admitted. “…and I don’t get how he can look at you and want to hit you and shove you and make you bleed.”
One of his hands was resting on your cheek, now, mindful of the bruising.
“I don’t understand how he can know you and be so mean to you.”
You looked down at that.
“I wish I could lock you away and protect you from the world,” JJ said, more to himself than you, and when you looked up, your gaze fell to his lips as he leaned in.
The kiss could barely be called that, and when he pulled away, guilt settled in your chest.
“I’m sorry,” you eventually said, continuing at his look of confusion. “…for…ignoring you after that night.”
Understanding settled over his features.
“I was really confused,” you shakily breathed. “About…well…everything.”
“It’s okay-.”
“I’m still confused,” you hurried to add. “I don’t know what I genuinely don’t want or what I’m just afraid to want.”
Your words came out slow, fighting to understand your own mind.
“…and part of me feels like I’m doing something horrible to Rafe even though I know that isn’t true,” you tearfully continued. “I know that nothing I do will ever compare to what he’s done to me, but I feel so horrible.”
JJ wiped your face as best as he could, shushing you, but you shook your head.
“…and I know…”
A feeling of dread weighed you down, a chill gliding down your spine as your next words settled on your tongue.
“I know that if he ever found out about us…he’d kill me,” JJ shook his head at your words, wanting you to stop talking. “It’s true, I know it’s true…”
“Don’t say that,” he said, taking your face into his hands.
“He would, JJ,” you dazedly whispered, recalling that day in his truck and the night of his birthday and the day you called the cops. “Rafe would strangle me without even thinking about it-.”
“Y/N, stop. Don’t think like that,” JJ gently shook you.
“…but you make me really happy,” you tearfully told him, looking into his eyes. “I’m happy when I’m with you and…”
You looked between his eyes.
“…and sometimes…sometimes I think it’d be worth it,” you murmured.
JJ was standing, now, making you keep your eyes on him.
“That’s not happening. Do you understand me?” he continued at your silence. “I won’t let him do that to you. He’s not taking you away from me.”
More tears spilled over because there was no way to guarantee that. Even if you and JJ stopped this, right now, there was still a chance Rafe could go too far one day and just…kill you. It was something that was always in the back of your mind, even when you tried your best to keep him happy with you.
JJ pressed his forehead to yours, brushing your cheeks with his thumbs.
“Don’t you wanna be with me? Huh?” he breathed. “Don’t you want to go on dates with me and hang out with my friends and hold my hand out in the open?”
You gave a trembling nod.
“Okay,” he shakily exhaled. “Okay, so don’t…don’t say things like that.”
JJ knelt before you, looking up at you and wiping your tears.
“You’re going to be fine,” he assured you. “I’d kill him before he ever killed you. Do you understand me?”
Again, you nodded.
Standing, he pulled you against him, burying his face into your hair and running his hand along your back.
“He’s not taking you away from me. That I can promise you…”
Your lashes fluttered as JJ massaged your scalp, and the conviction in his voice made you want to believe him.
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honeyskywitch · 26 days
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prettier than a peach (john "bucky" egan x reader)
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In which you're his favorite nurse, and John Egan tries his hardest to win your heart.
Words: 1.8K
Warnings: Bucky Egan is a warning all on his own. Fluffy, fluffy fluff.
Disclosure: Please do not copy my work on any other sites. I will be posting this here & on ao3 shortly. This fic is based on the characters brought to life in the Apple TV series Masters of the Air, not the real people the characters were based on.
Note: Peach!Reader is going to make many appearances, I'm going to make this a series. Without further adieu, enjoy.
It all started on a Saturday morning. It was early—really early. You hadn't really expected to have anyone walking around near the infirmary, but at half past 0300, you heard the sounds of heavy footfalls, with slurred speech and another low voice arguing.
 You get up to look out the window, and not a second goes by before the door swings open. You recognize the two men instantly: Major Gale "Buck" Cleven is half dragging Major John "Bucky" Egan into the infirmary. 
"Morning, ma'am." Major Cleven's blue eyes zero in on you immediately, and he offers you a kind (and apologetic) smile. "My buddy here had a bit too much to drink and got himself into a scuffle with some guys at the bar." 
Your gaze flickers to Major Egan, studying him with a calculating gaze. He's going to have a black eye, you notice, and he's holding onto the left side of his ribs. It's not the first time you've heard of the Major getting into a fight, but it's the first time it's happened on your shift. 
"Alright, Major." You're addressing Egan now, coming to his side to support his left side. "Let's get you settled in bed so I can take a look at those ribs." 
You are wholly unprepared for the absolute human hurricane that is Major John Egan.
"Tryin' to get me in bed already, doll?" His words are slurred from too much alcohol, but his voice is deep and husky, and you hate the way it makes you shiver. "I don't even know your name."
Major Cleven sucks in a breath and rolls his eyes. "John Clarence Egan." That accent drawls his friend's name, and his tone is very much annoyed. "You're in the presence of a lady—a nurse—for crying out loud. Behave."
"Oh, c'mon, she walked right into that one." He insists, "She thought it was funny. You thought it was funny, right, doll?"
Stormy blue eyes are suddenly fixed on your face. It's almost like time stops for you; of course you've seen him around before, but the moment you really look into his eyes, it's like you can see your whole life ahead of you. He's quiet now, just watching you, and he finds himself absolutely anamored with the delicate blush working its way onto your face.
"It was a little funny." You admit it, but you don't meet his eyes again. You're too afraid of what you'll see on his face, because while you're falling hard and fast at first sight, he's only flirting with a woman. That's all it is to him, you're sure of it.
His chest is warm when you open his jacket and roll up his shirt. You have to ignore how beautifully masculine he is on order to focus on your job. Your eyes flicker to his abdomen, and sure enough, there are wicked bruises starting to show on the skin that covers his ribs. You're pretty sure they're not broken, but you have to be sure.
"This may hurt." You warn him, your fingers prodding gently at his side, and he hisses quietly under his breath. You don't feel anything out of place, but he'll definitely need a few hours of rest and something to ease the pain.
"Your hands are freezing." He grumbles, and before you can say anything, he's got both of them in his much bigger, warmer hands. "There, that's better."
"You're unbelievable, John Egan." Major Cleven speaks up from behind you, his tone more exasperated than anything else.
You carefully extract your hands from Major Egan's, and you try to ignore the way he pouts when you're no longer touching him. "I'll keep him overnight for observation, Major Cleven. Make sure he rests and heals up a bit."
Major Cleven looks strangely relieved, but still, he frowns. "Are you sure? I can handle Bucky; I don't want him causing you any trouble."
His gentle demeanor makes you smile. "I appreciate that, Major, but I've dealt with far rowdier men than Major Egan here. You go on and get some rest; I'll handle this."
Major Egan looks irritated that you and his best friend were talking about him like he wasn't even there. "Just call me Bucky. Or I'll take John." He tells you, his tone demanding, his lips pulled into yet another pout.
"You behave yourself." Major Cleven points a finger at him, his face stern. When he turns back to you, he offers another warm smile. "You might as well call me Buck, too, since you're saving me from trying to sleep in the same room as that one while he's drunk."
You offer your name in return, and you offer a comforting smile as you shoo Buck off to bed.
It's quiet for a moment after the other Major takes his leave. You wonder if the alcohol has made Major Egan fall asleep. You're surprised to see his eyes open and staring directly at you when you turn around.
"Can't remember if I've ever seen you around before." He says, his words still slightly slurred as he speaks. You can't recall ever having heard a voice like his before. Gravely, warm and steady, even with alcohol in his system. "I'd remember that face; you're so pretty."
"And you're drunk." You answer, turning away before he can notice that you're blushing. You've dealt with flirty airmen before, but this is the first time it's really gotten to you. "Get some rest, Major."
He's quiet for a moment, and you're grateful for a reprieve from the flirting as you mark the log book with a pencil. The only noise for a few moments is the lead scratching against the paper as you write.
"I'm gonna call you Peach."
When you turn back, his lips tug into the most heart-stopping smirk you've ever seen. "You could just call me Nurse." You point out, and for some reason, that only seems to egg him on.
"Well, I like Peach. You're prettier than a peach. Sweet as one too; look at that blush." You're sure you've forgotten how to breathe.
"You're a menace." You answer after you've finally gotten a hold of your emotions. "And it's early; you need rest. Sleep."
"How about a goodnight kiss first?" You almost toss the log book at him. Almost. "Just one on the forehead, and then I'll sleep. Scout's honor, Peach."
You sigh, your eyes darting over his face for a moment. Sure, he's a flirt, but you've never heard of him ever harming a woman. So you walk over to his bedside and lean down.
His forehead is warm, an errant curl tickling your cheek as your lips press against his skin. You feel him shudder under the touch of your lips against him, but then his breathing evens back out as you lean away.
"Alright, Major, you got your kiss. Now sleep." He doesn't miss the way your eyes flicker to his lips and away again, but he does as he's told and rolls over onto his side.
After he falls asleep, the morning is quiet. Your shift at the infirmary ends at 0600 and the nurse who comes to relieve you doesn't seem surprised to see Bucky there. She rolls her eyes and huffs a laugh as you explain how he came to be in a bed in the infirmary.
He's shifting awake as you're leaving, and his blue eyes have just enough time to focus on your retreating form before you're gone. He was a little saddened; he'd been hoping for one more kiss.
Outside, the air is still cool, and the sun is just beginning to peek beyond the horizon. The inky blackness of the sky is lightening to a shade of blue that looks like Major Egan's eyes, and God, you have to stop thinking about him. You really didn't need to get attached.
You pass Buck on the way back to your quarters, and he waves at you with one of his dazzling smiles as he passes. He's wearing his uniform, and you know that means he'll be out in the sky soon enough. You return his smile and wave happily.
Exhaustion sweeps through you as you enter your quarters, and you make quick work of taking your hair pins out and wiping your makeup off. By the time your head hits the pillow, sleep pulls you under. The only things on your mind as you fall asleep are dark curls and blue eyes.
***
Hours later, you blink awake. There's still sunlight flittering in through the curtains over your window, and you sit up to stretch your arms and shoulders. It had to be close to dinnertime, and your stomach rumbles as you slip out of bed and dress in your uniform. Sometimes you missed your dresses back home, but you always felt a sense of pride in your olive drab skirt and jacket. You make sure to swipe on your Victory Red lipstick before you leave.
Placing your cover under your arm, you slip out of your barracks just to come face-to-face with a man. Not just any man, either.
"Peach!" He's still loud, his face wide and warm and friendly. His breath smells like the peppermint gum he's chewing, and his eyes are clear. "Don't think I didn't see you slip out of the room before I could ask for my morning kiss."
He's smiling so brightly that it's like looking at the sun. He's all white teeth and dark curls and blue eyes, his cover tucked under his arm. He's got a single flower in his free hand. You've never seen someone look so devastatingly beautiful.
"Major." You greet him, and it's a good thing you didn't put on blush when refreshing your makeup because your face is hot now. Just from looking at him. "What brings you to the women's barracks?"
"I told you, Peach. Call me Bucky. Or John." His grin never falters. You want to kiss the corner of his mouth, nip at the jawline. He's got so much energy and vitality, and your heart beats so loudly that it's a wonder he can't hear. "Well, I came to offer you this gorgeous flower I found on my way over here and ask if you'd like to dance with me tonight."
You'd forgotten all about the party tonight. A crew completing their 25th mission—you hadn't really planned on attending, but you find yourself very tempted to go. "I'm not really the party type." You admit that, and that dims the light in his eyes a little. You regret the words immediately.
"Just one dance." He steps in closer, taking up more space. He's so tall and broad-shouldered; the man takes up so much room that it makes you feel small in the best way. "For your favorite patient? After all, you did give me a good-night kiss. That's gotta count for something."
Your mind rewinds to that moment, when he was fever-warm and shivering under your lips, when you'd wanted so badly to let him kiss you all over. If you weren't blushing before, you sure are now. "Alright, Bucky," You have to ignore the way he lights up when you use his nickname. "One dance."
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stsgluver · 4 months
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𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 — gojo satoru
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synopsis. nobara is ill and what better way to spend your day off than trying to figure out who your teacher's high school girlfriend is?
wc. 3.5k
tags. gojo x reader, fluff, one suggestive joke, reader is in gojo's class, implied utahime x shoko, only half proofread
a/n. it's nearly midnight and im so tired and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow but I needed to get this done. I hope there's not too many mistakes <3 the ending is kind of shit but idc :) jk i do pls like it
previous part / next part / series masterlist
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“are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”
nobara lazily lifted her head from beneath her duvet, orange bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead as she let out a series of harsh coughs. megumi winced from the doorway, inching back ever so slightly - he'd already brought in a couple bottles of water and a box of tissues, he wasn't looking to contract whatever flu-like disease she had caught.
she rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle antics and raised a weak thumbs up. “go on fushiguro, i know how much you're dying to spend the afternoon with itadori and sensei."
“haha,” megumi uttered with the most sarcastic tone he could muster. on second thoughts, maybe being sick for a week wouldn't be so bad. with nobara gone, there was no buffer for his teacher and classmate to pester. “call me if you get worse, you know the second years are useless.” 
nobara gave the younger boy a quick salute and small smile, “yes boss.”
she dropped her head back into her pillow and waited till she heard the door click shut till she slipped a little less than elegantly out of bed. whilst yes, there was no denying that she was definitely sick, she also had a mission she couldn’t give up on.
in the three weeks, four days and an unknown number of hours since she had found the dvd of her teacher in his youth, she had been putting all of her free time into trying to find you. megumi had been a dead end when she’d tried asking him about you again and, although nobara knew he had a soft spot for yuuji, she didn’t trust the pink haired boy to treat this situation sensitively.
initially, she’d even considered asking gojo about it but she decided against that pretty quickly. that could get awkward very quickly and she still had at least two years at the school. 
then, she’d moved onto searching through the school for traces of the alumni. all she’d managed to find was a single photo; one that included both kyoto and tokyo students. you were tucked into gojo’s side with your arm around shoko. geto was there too: him and gojo side by side as they always were in their teenage years. all of you were grinning and genuinely happy. where had it all gone so drastically wrong?
nobara wondered if it was geto’s fault that gojo’s class had been all but erased – an effort to forget that the worst curse user to live had in fact once been an aspiring sorcerer.
her next plan (and one she hadn’t full considered the logistics of completely just yet) was to watch every single video on the dvd because surely at some point, there would be some clue of who you were or where you’d gone. 
and even if there wasn’t, what else could she possibly do to amuse herself whilst she was on bed rest?
with a huff, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back onto her bed, tucking herself under the covers. opening up her laptop (her password being ‘12345’), she clicked unpause on a video she’d started the evening prior.
“–and that’s it basically.”
shoko waved her hands around, sat on yaga’s chair at the front of the classroom with a blackboard filled with scribbles behind her. it wasn’t anything legible, more like swirls and stars and nobara thinks that, if she looked hard enough, in the corner were two little stick men: gojo and geto. an unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she kicked her legs up onto her teacher’s desk. yaga clearly wasn’t in the room. 
“that made no sense whatsoever but woo! shoko!” you clapped, out of frame of the camera but enthusiastically nonetheless. the aforementioned girl narrowed her eyes at you across the classroom.
“that’s why i made a video, for you to look back on duh,” she tsked, nodding her head towards the camera. “plus it is easy. i expected dumb and dumber not to understand but you?” shoko patted away a few non-existent tears, taking on the role of disappointed parent and their once star student.
except you’d never really excelled in a class with two prodigies and shoko actually loved having the upperhand in at least one area of sorcery.
shoko picked up the camera, holding it upwards to give a full view of her outfit and hair – like it was any different to any other day she attended school. she swivelled the spinny chair over to an occupied desk, slotting next to it and moving the camera so that it captured all of you in the frame. gojo was sat down in the seat, glasses propped up onto his forehead as you sat sideways on his lap, unsuccessfully trying to decipher shoko’s teachings on the board.
“understanding reversed cursed techniques is way harder than understanding cursed techniques,” you tried to justify, pointing to the board that showed the squiggles that ‘symbolised’ performing a reversed curse technique. stealing gojo’s glasses and popping them on your own face, you popped a quick kiss to the side of his head, “plus, why waste my energy? you’ll figure it out so i never have to.”
“the things i do for you,” gojo sighed happily, dropping his head down onto your shoulder as his arms looped around your waist. the orange-haired sorcerer could practically hear yuuji’s gasps at the simple displays of affection and she almost felt bad for watching some of the clips without him.
almost.
nobara was never one for romance – drama, such as the fight between gojo and naoya, that was her scene. but even she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the teenage love between the two of you. maybe she should give her teacher more credit – there was more to the six foot two man than just his over the top personality and questionable teaching methods.
“this is meant to be an educational video! be less couple-y!” shoko complained, scowling and shuffling away on her chair again.
“oh, we could make it very educational,” gojo wiggled his eyebrows, the devious smirk on his lips only widening at your flushed expression as you tried to hit his chest. failing, though, as he isolated his cursed technique to uphold a thin barrier between your hand and the material of his uniform.
there was the teacher she knew – keen to annoy even those he loved the most.
shoko must’ve ended the video out of spite after his comment, because nobara found herself staring at a black screen. 
all that she’d learnt so far was that you couldn’t perform a reverse cursed technique as a teenager. maybe that was what killed you? if you were even dead, that is. but given the damage that curses can inflict on sorcerers, whether or not you were able to execute a reversed cursed technique could literally be the difference between walking away from a fight a little tired or in a body bag.
nobara coughed several times, picking up the open bottle of water from her bedside table and taking a sip to try and ease her scratchy throat. scrunching up her nose at the slight sting of swallowing, she clicked the next available video, not putting much thought into her choice.
it was you and nanami in frame in a library by the looks of it but if it was on campus, nobara didn’t know where. christmas decorations decorated the shelving units behind you – tinsels of gold, red and green, and hanging snowflakes. you were both wearing your usual uniform but you also had a santa hat on and tinsel lining your jacket.
“we’re the only two on campus,” you said quietly, “because everyone else’s parents loved them–”
“we couldn’t afford to go back for the holidays,” nanami cut you off, without glancing up from what he was writing. being from two non-sorcerer families was a disadvantage normally in terms of status and inherited techniques, but holidays were somehow worse. 
gojo had offered to help you out with a ticket back to your parents and had even extended an invitation for you to stay with him but you didn’t want to leave nanami alone (and although he didn’t seem grateful, he was glad you were there).
“it’s fine. academic comeback time,” you held up a book to the screen. being in a class with three exceptional sorcerers meant that studies were often sidelined to try and improve and perfect your techniques. holidays were usually your opportunity to catch up on the missed classwork and homework you’d fallen behind on.
nanami less so – if anything he was reading ahead. tokyo had never been renowned for academic scores until he’d come along.
“i don’t get why the camera needs to be here,” nanami complained.
“to record us study! it’s motivational.”
“sure,” nanami hummed quietly, reading over your shoulder at the work you’d already completed prior to setting up the camera. “that’s wrong. this is simple mutipli–” he paused at the sound of rustling and his brows furrowed as he tried to peer round the bookshelves. 
“merry christmas!” 
nobara snickered as nanami jumped at the sudden voice and appearance of three people behind him. gojo and geto were capable of masking their cursed energy (and shoko’s) so that they wouldn’t be noticed slipping into the library. although gojo had nearly screwed that up by pulling out a chair trying to trip up geto.
“ieiri!” you slipped out from your seat, running up and hugging your classmate. in the process, the camera got knocked so it was facing the ceiling. nobara frowned as she turned the brightness up on her laptop as if though that would somehow bring everyone back into grame. in the periphery of the screen she could make out just the heads and foreheads of the student sorcerers.
“hi satoru, missed you too satoru, so glad you came to see me satoru,” the white haired sorcerer pouted at the lack of attention and nobara is sure someone responded to him but the audio is muffled by two voices closer to the camera’s microphone.
“here!” haibara slipped into the seat next to nanami that you had occupied moments prior and held up a small wrapped box with red ribbon tied neatly in a bow. “i picked it up on the way. merry christmas nanamin!”
“thanks yu,” nanami smiled softly at his classmate. well that’s what nobara thought he did anyways, his eyes lifted into half crescents but she wasn’t actually sure what his mouth was doing out of frame. she’d never seen the blond so happy from a simple gesture.
she clicked off the video even though it still had thirty seconds left to go. it wasn’t much fun just watching people’s foreheads and she highly doubted that nanami was about to fix the camera’s position.
so you were from a non-sorcerer family and possibly not able to use reverse cursed technique. it wasn’t much but facts were still facts.
there was a little more deliberation before she chose her next video, settling herself back into her cushions as she waited for it to load.
the screen was suddenly very bright and nobara winced, turning it down as the surroundings came into focus. it was the inside of an arcade and the camera was pointed directly at one of those claw machines. inside were different sized plushies of spiderman and haibara was the one controlling the claw.
nobara could vaguely make out everyone’s reflection in the glass – to the left of haibara was geto (who was also the one holding onto the camera), gojo and you, and to his right was shoko, nanami and maybe also utahime? shoko had her arm around a blue haired girl either way.
“no! so close haibara,” you patted the youngest boy on the shoulder gently as the plushie he’d managed to pick up slipped from the claw’s clutches before it could be dropped down the chute and retrieved.
“can i try?” gojo asked and, from the annoyed groans, nobara assumed it wasn’t the first time he’d interjected.
“no, he’ll get it this time,” geto encouraged and gojo flashed him a look of disbelief. 
“if gojo wants a go he can have it!” haibara tried to step away from the machine but nanami halted him, slotting several more coins in the machine.
“take your go yu.”
“i’ll get you a slushie if you win,” shoko called out, clapping her hands together as he accepted his fate, hesitantly pressing down on the buttons as he peered through the side of the machine to get a better angle.
“haibara, haibara.” all of them were chanting his name now, and that was enough of a boost for him to finally get one of the plushies over the barrier and down the chute. the camera shook unsteadily as geto jumped and six of them crowded the youngest in a joint hug.
nobara could see yuuji in haibara and megumi in nanami and herself in shoko and she had to stop herself from tearing up. nanami and shoko seemed like strangers these days and she couldn’t even imagine waking up and yuuji not being the first one to greet her outside her room. 
we’ve got a mission here, she reminded herself, shaking her head lightly before moving onto the next clip.
“utahime, say hi,” you lowered the camera to the kyoto sorcerer’s height. she was sat cross-legged on the floor with a jacket flung haphazardly over her head to try and block out the sun that beamed down.
“hi!” utahime waved, smiling as you dropped down next to her. in her hands was a partially made daisy chain that she’d started to entertain herself whilst she waited for the tokyo students. despite being in kyoto, she’d always chosen to join yourself and shoko at events over her own classmates.
“who do you think is going to win the exchange event this year?” you asked with a raised brow and utahime grimaced.
“don’t make me compliment him.”
“are you implying that our edge is not because of me?” you looked at the camera with a disgusted expression, like you had the power to outshine the gojo satoru, she rolled her eyes – gojo’s dramatics were rubbing off on you. “for that i’m telling ieiri. you may be her girlfriend–”
utahime hit your arm and her eyes darted around for anyone that could’ve heard (like you were not sat alone in a field together whilst the others warmed up), “shut up! we’re not like that…”
you nodded with a condescending hum. “then kindly could you please stop calling her till three in the morning, some of us need our beauty sleep.”
“you’re only ever up at three am because you’re sneaking back from gojo’s dorm,” she retorted with a pointed look. you opened your mouth to defend yourself 
“true,” you jumped at shoko’s voice, swivelling your neck around to find the third piece of your trio standing behind you. shoko gestured towards your uniform jacket, “and if she pulls down her collar there’s a massive hickey i had to help cover up this morning.”
utahime erupted into a fit of giggles and you eyed the camera like it was some sitcom and you were breaking the fourth wall.
“you’re such an asshole.”
shoko pushed in between the two of you to make herself the middle. “you love me.”
nobara frowned as the video ended. while it wasn’t overly helpful, it reaffirmed the seriousness of your relationship with her teacher… but that was obvious from the lovesick heart eyes he constantly had in every video you were together.
although, she would have to show it to maki – the two had suspicions about the kyoto teacher and tokyo healer and this all but confirmed that they were right. 
nobara scrolled down till she found a thumbnail of you, geto and gojo sat around a table of food.
“zenin naoya,” you started, chopsticks in one hand as you held a bowl of food in the other. gojo pretended to vomit at the mention of his name. “yes toru, appropriate response, but have you heard about him and the kamo girl?”
geto nodded with a mouth full. “the one who studied abroad?”
“yes! her,” you waved your chopsticks in his direction, “anyways, she cheated on him.”
the dark haired sorcerer made a sound of shock, “they were together together?”
you nodded enthusiastically, offering gojo some of your rice. “mhmm, they got together new years eve.”
“that did not last long,” gojo snickered. nobara peered at the date in the corner of the screen in a retro, yellow font; 15 january 2006.
“best part? it’s not even the first time,” you revealed, picking up some salmon sushi off of gojo’s plate and quickly eating it.
“stop,” geto gasped and nobara was shocked. this man was a war criminal now, and yet ten years ago he seemed so far from it, gossiping like he was a teenage girl.
“which like i don’t get,” you frowned. “i dont know why he’s trying to save face over some two week old relationship. especially if she’s already cheated multiple times.”
“he’s just desperate because it’s the first girl to ever want to actually be with him.”
“oh yeah she really wants to be with him,” gojo uttered sarcastically with a sparkle in his eyes. he would have a party at the downfall of the zenin.
“are they staying together?”
“i think so,” you nodded, holding a hand over your mouth as you spoke and finished your mouthful. “it’s what me and shoko told him to do, well shoko. he facetimed shoko.” you clarified following gojo’s less than pleased expression. nobara didn’t doubt that naoya had caused some tension in your relationship (though she refused to believe it was ever because you had been interested in him) and she wished that you’d switch the topic solely onto that. that was the sort of drama she was after.
“youre telling me he facetimed ieiri to tell her he’d been cheated on?” geto could bearly finish the question without laughing and he shot gojo a look. “odds on him trying to make yn jealous.”
you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. “oh yeah because hearing all that made me want to leave satoru for that thing.” sarcasm or not, your words were taken literally by your boyfriend who draped all one hundred and ninety centimetres of himself across your body. “oh my god you’re so heavy.”
“it’s just my love for you in physical form. don’t be mean,” he whined.
nobara didn’t even have the energy to laugh quietly at the pathetic nature of her teacher as she felt herself drifting off. it was fine, she thought, only a quick power nap. she’d earned it, watching all those clips expended lots of energy.
“kugisaki?” gojo gently knocked at the young girl’s door. he’d left yuuji and megumi to do laps to check nobara was still alive and well. the illness had made its way through half the school already and while it obviously wasn’t something fatal, he knew better than to take any risks.
he knocked again and waited thirty seconds before he opened the door enough just to peek in and–
“satoru.”
gojo felt his heart drop at the sound of your voice. one he hadn’t heard in almost two years and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so unsteady and thrown off guard. the mere sound of your voice had startled him and gotten more of an upper hand than any curse he’d ever had to exorcise.
although his world had stilled, reality continued on and he was forced to hear himself hum in response. he didn’t have to see the video to vividly remember the day, to remember the smell of the grass and your perfume that were coaxing him into a nap that would make you both late to yaga’s lecture.
“do you think we’ll still be together once high school is over?”
“hope so,” he murmured, half asleep, and gojo wished his younger self was more aware, telling you how much he wanted to be with you, savouring every second he had in your presence rather than sleeping it away. 
like that could’ve changed the outcome.
slipping into her room, gojo lifted the laptop off of her sleeping figure (definitely still alive and breathing). with a press of a button, the disk popped out and he set the device onto the ground as he contemplated what to do.
he could break it in half, make it seem like an accident that nobara hadn’t noticed in her ill state. or he could use his cursed technique and completely eviscerate it from existence.
or maybe he could keep it.
gojo gave nobara one last glance as he silently closed her door once more, grateful for the blindfold he wore as he headed back outside to his students.
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taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen
this tag list is insane ty all for the support
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winterrrnight · 4 months
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“and so we meet” — new beginnings chapter I
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PAIRING: stepdad!soft!rafe x mom!reader
WARNINGS: none!
EDITH SPEAKS: this is just the first chapter, so please please bare with me as it’s certainly not the best, and it’s also very short. the plot will pick up speed as we move along, and there’s so much planned for the three of them!! if you enjoyed reading it, please reblog, and share your thoughts with me 🍂
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next chapter ->
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“Sage! Don’t run off like that!” You yell out, watching the little figure giggling as she rushes in one of the aisles of the grocery stores you're in. No matter how hard you try, you can never try to control your daughter, she’s like a little energy packet.
But you also trust her, knowing she won’t pick something unknown off the shelves and open it up, or bother someone in the store. Letting her have her fun, you direct your attention to the vegetables you initially came to shop for.
As you’re filling up your basket with everything you may need, you hear someone clear their throat behind you.
“Excuse me?”
You hear a masculine voice along with the throat clearing, and you turn around to see a strange man with your daughter next to him, her holding onto his hand.
“Sage what did you do?” You say sternly, picking her up in your arms. “I’m so sorry about that, she’s one little restless child,” you chuckle.
“That’s okay,” the stranger says, and you look up to see the most alluring pair of blue eyes you’ve ever seen. “She was just running around and crashed into me without realizing,”
“Oh- oh Sage you’ve got to control yourself!” You tell her, but your daughter only giggles at your words. “Again, I’m so sorry about her,”
The stranger chuckles. “It really is okay, she’s really cute,”
A moment of silence drapes around you both, as you’re looking at your shoes and the stranger is looking around. There is something so odd about this person, something so oddly attractive that isn’t letting you go of this situation you’re in quicker.
“Well, it was really nice meeting you…” you trail off, not knowing what name to put on this face.
“Oh- Rafe,” he smiles at you.
“Rafe. It was nice meeting you Rafe, I hope we’ll see you again someday,” you smile, as you start to push your cart with one hand, and your daughter on your hip.
“Byeeee!” She says excitedly with a fit of giggles, waving at the man vigorously. You hear him chuckle at her actions, and you can’t help but let a smile grace your face.
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As you’re strapping Sage into her car seat, you feel someone tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see Rafe.
“Rafe?” You ask quizzically, not sure why your next meeting should be this soon.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but you left these,” he puts out his hand and you see your keys on his palm, “keys while you were packing everything up,”
“Oh my god,” you gasp, realizing those are your house keys. “Thank you so much Rafe, we’ve been bothering you so much today,” you laugh nervously.
“Nonsense, I’ve loved meeting you two,” he smiles at you and looks at Sage through the window, but she’s already asleep.
“Well, thank you again,” You smile as you start to make your way to the driver’s seat.
“I didn’t catch your name!” He says out loud, just as you’re about to close your car door.
“It’s y/n, don’t forget us,” you tease, and you drive away. Rafe watches your car drive away with a smile on his face and a beat in his heart.
“Oh I definitely won’t.”
↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-
TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rafeinterlude @rylie-m @zulema222 @karmasloverrr @leixwhite02 @congratsloserr @rubixgsworld
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sunmoonjune · 4 months
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spring tides [like the moon universe]
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pairing: poly!ot8 ateez x fem!oc!reader
warnings: vague mentions of eating disorder, death and torture, scars, ptsd, very fluffy! a lot of comfort! not so dark this time xD I did not proofread this :D
word count: 14.1k
a/n: hello y'all :D I have returned with some LTM for you <;3 This is a oneshot for my like the moon universe! You don't necessarily need to read the series to understand this fic but it definitely helps the immersion and understanding some of the plot points! you can find all chapters of ltm on my masterlist <3
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Seonghwa remembers something in the spring of your third year with Ateez. As he watches you at Jongho’s side, silently offering the guard slices of fruit as he cleans his claymore, Seonghwa recalls that he doesn’t know when your birthday is. 
Jongho is murmuring something about the design of his blade and the engraving along the handle when Seonghwa stands abruptly. The eldest shifts on his feet, brows furrowed and teeth worrying his bottom lip. His lips purse when Jongho questions him. 
“Hwa?” 
The red-haired guard looks up at his partner with a lilt of concern in his voice, hands halting their motion on his blade. Jongho’s dark eyes glint as the fading sun catches the hickory color of his irises. 
“Is there something wrong?” Jongho continues, already shifting to stand to his feet. “Are you alright?”
You rock on your feet, legs stretching as you prepare to stand with Jongho. Your eyes flicker across camp, scanning for whatever has caught Seonghwa’s attention. There’s two swords still strapped to your back and you can nearly feel the cool metal pressing into your skin – a haunting reminder of the terrible things you’ve done with them. The buzz beneath your skin itches with the beginnings of adrenaline, already prepared to stand and defend the two Ateez members at your sides.
Seonghwa lifts his hands and shakes his head to soothe you and Jongho before you can stand. He softly waves his hands to encourage you to sit back onto the carved log beneath you, a wary smile on his lips. 
“No, it’s nothing,” he murmurs, still gnawing at his lip as he finishes. He offers a barely concealed sigh and shakes his head again. “‘M alright, just remembered something.” 
Jongho doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer, but he settles back onto the floor regardless. His hands return to wiping down his claymore but he doesn’t look away from his partner. 
You share the sentiment, continuing to watch Seonghwa and making note of each creak and scratch that echoes through the camp. You don’t know what startled him, but you’ll be prepared for the next time. The fruit in your hands has made your fingers sticky in the brief moments you spent looking up at Seonghwa rather than cutting the supple treat. 
You don’t mind though. You like slicing fruit for Jongho.  He doesn’t eat enough, you’ve noticed. You’re not quite sure why, but you suppose you don’t quite know how to ask. No matter the reason, it brings you comfort when he continues to take slices of succulent fruit from you as he cleans. He doesn’t look up, simply trusting you to place the pieces into his hands so he can eat without trouble. When you sat beside him that morning with the fruit in your hands, Jongho raised an eyebrow but didn’t mention it. You ate the first few slices before offering them to the wine-haired guard, who accepted them with a small smile. Every so often, he turns slightly, ensuring that you’re continuing to eat as much as he does. 
At one point he tilts his head back, looking up at you with those pretty, boba pearl eyes and opens his mouth slightly. Both his hands are occupied, busy with the intricate care his blade necessitates. With your heart thumping quickly in your chest, you place a slice of fruit on Jongho’s waiting lips and try desperately not to linger on the thought of how full and supple they are. 
“Thanks, love,” he murmurs without looking at you, the words sweet and saccharine in the low timber of his voice. 
Seonghwa laughed when Jongho’s cheeks pinkened after that, but you weren’t really sure why. 
Turning his attention to you, Seonghwa looks down at your figure. Sitting with a slight slump in your shoulders, the spymaster smiles faintly. Slouched posture is a good sign, he muses. You’re comfortable. 
When you tilt your head to the side, silently questioning Seonghwa’s thoughts, you reach up to gingerly grasp his fingers. There’s no hesitation. There hasn’t been in a long while. Seonghwa extends his hand in offering when he notices your appendages twitch. His warmth sinks into your palm and you nearly hum at the soothing feeling. 
You squeeze his hand twice before lingering for a longer third.
‘Are you okay?’ you silently question.
Seonghwa’s lips quirk into another gentle smile, but his eyes are distant. It makes your heart tug painfully. The hickory of his near-black irises is muted. You miss the glimmer of those sweet, dark eyes that show when he smiles. 
“Yeah, m’alright, lovebug.” 
Your heart slams into your ribs – a delighted feeling. Lovebug. You like that. 
Seonghwa leans closer to repeat the gesture, squeezing twice and then lingering for an ‘okay.’ His other hand lifts to run over the back of your head with a delicate movement. Fingers carefully scratch against your scalp and you resist the temptation to lean into his hands and exhale softly. 
“I have to go see Joong and Yunho, though. I really did just remember something I wanted to speak to ‘em about,” he whispers. Dragging his nails gently over the nape of your neck once more, Seonghwa smiles when you finally lean into his touch with a quiet rumble. He thinks you look positively cat-like. When one set of lashes flutters against your cheek in a tired, pleased expression, Seonghwa could coo at the endearing look. He withholds only to save you the embarrassment of his mother-hen tendencies. 
Your one eye flickers over his expression once more before you relent and nod your head just once. Seonghwa’s hand begins to pull away from your head, and this time you do make a tiny sound of sadness. The eldest feels his heart squeeze at your reluctance to be parted from him, leaning close to drag his thumb over the stiff material of your mask with a sweet touch before he stands upright once more. 
“I’ll be back in a minute, okay? You and Jongho finish up and join us for dinner soon.” 
You let out a short exhale through your nose, a sound they’ve taken to signify your agreement. Jongho’s lips twitch at the noise, trying to hold back the laugh he wants to let out. 
“Okay,” you whisper softly beneath your breath as you lean back against the back of the log. Seonghwa smiles and finally shifts his stance to leave, only pressing a gentle kiss to Jongho’s brow before walking off. Your head tilts one last time as Seonghwa leaves, wondering if perhaps one day he’ll kiss your head too when he takes his leave. 
The archer finds Yunho before Hongjoong. The tallest of Ateez is easy to collect when Seonghwa gives him a meaningful look. The tension in the eldest’s brow must convince Yunho that there is something important he is needed for because he immediately follows after Seonghwa. The two find themselves in the Captain’s cavern, his and Seonghwa’s really, standing before the long-haired leader with a small frown on the archer’s lips. 
Hongjoong mimics the frown, coming to a stand behind the desk currently holding a plethora of worn maps. 
“What’s wrong?” 
Seonghwa sighs, squeezing his fists together before he turns to face Yunho with a solemn expression. 
“When’s her birthday?” 
Yunho’s brow quirks at the same time the tension in his shoulders finally loosens a notch. Sighing softly, he licks his lips and answers.
“Tiny’s?” 
Seonghwa nods, the expression on his face unchanging: serious and solemn, as if the situation was as grave as a wake. Hongjoong glances between the two men, his brow now lifted in surprise, but he says nothing. 
“It’s been three years since she’s been with us,” Seonghwa murmurs tersely. “But we haven’t celebrated her birthday. The first year I could understand missing it – I mean, she was still adjusting to Ateez, and even after that she’s still a little apprehensive. Not that I blame her, of course – I just… It’s been three full years and I can’t believe we’ve missed her birthday at least three times.” 
Yunho’s bottom teeth sink into his lip and his eyes suddenly dart towards the floor. He swallows once, shifting on his feet and sighs as he ponders how to answer Seonghwa’s question. The eldest watches his partner with that same, tense look and his eyes glisten with something sad – something understanding, as if he knows Yunho’s answer before he speaks it aloud. 
“I don’t know,” Yunho finally answers quietly. He looks down at his feet, unable to meet his elder’s eyes. His eyes squeeze shut with another sigh that shakes through his shoulders. He repeats himself louder, still just barely above a whisper. “I don’t know.” 
Hongjoong steps forward from behind his desk. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?” 
“I mean I don’t know,” Yunho whispers sadly. “And she doesn’t either.” 
Seonghwa licks his lips, grasping at strings as he scrambles to find the right words to say. 
“I don’t understand. How can she not know her own birthday?” 
Yunho won’t look up from his feet. His fingers curl into fists and the tips of his nails dig into his palms from the tightness of his grip. He can’t bring himself to loosen his hold. 
“Tiny, uh… After everything that happened with her – with that village, they don’t particularly regard her… fondly, you know?” 
Yunho speaks slowly and methodically, as if trying carefully to pick the right words to say. His tone is terse and cold, the disdain for the village of his past more than evident in his voice. Hongjoong looks up at his partner with a frown still on his lips, his heart pulsing sadly in his chest. 
“But she doesn’t know her own birthday? No one in her village told either of you?”
Yunho sighs again, finally looking up at his Captain with grief plastered across his features in an expression neither man can ignore. Seonghwa is already stepping forward, settling an arm over Yunho’s shoulders and rubbing his thumb across the taller man’s jaw. 
Yunho leans closer to Seonghwa and continues, voice deep and throaty with the weight of his words. “We celebrated it once. Back when we were young – back when… Daia was still around.” 
Hongjoong looks away. 
“But even then,” Yunho continues softly, trying not to think of the bony cage casting shadows of your quivering form. You were so young. Little fingers grasped the cold bars that separated him from you, desperately whispering a plea for him to leave. He should have known your father wouldn’t let you celebrate your birthday like he and the other children did. But the smile on your face was so pure, so genuinely happy that he could never utter the words that may wipe it away. 
 “We didn’t know the exact date – just that she was born in the spring. Her father… well he killed the attendants that assisted her mother through labor. Not that we could prove it, of course. Anyone around for Bug’s birth… isn’t around anymore. And Bug was raised kind of secluded the first few years of her life. No one knows exactly when she was born and her father certainly wouldn’t say.” 
Seonghwa’s eyes continue to glisten with that broken look, and he licks his drying lips before he speaks. His heart throbs painfully, echoing the sadness in his face.. “And… after Daia wasn’t around anymore?” 
Seonghwa hates that he asks. 
Yunho shifts on his feet and looks away again. 
“I, uh… I don’t know much of what happened after Daia…” he trails off for a long moment. “By that time, the village and her father turned their backs on Bug, and I… I was exiled a few years later.” 
Seonghwa thumbs over Yunho’s jaw again, trying to soothe his lover’s agony. Hongjoong steps closer and lays his hand across Seonghwa’s back, their combined sadness near tangible in the cavern hall. 
“Bug’s birthday…” Yunho finally continues. “She’s never seen it as a good thing, you know? Her father and the village certainly didn’t see it that way.” 
Seonghwa’s eyes sadden, the shine of his irises dulling at Yunho’s confession. He turns over his shoulder to look at Hongjoong and presses his lips together, as if regretting bringing up the topic altogether. 
“A good thing?” Hongjoong whispers. 
Yunho shakes his head, his frown dragging down his lips as he breathes softly. “Not something worth celebrating. The day she was born was… the start of everything bad, I guess.” 
Seonghwa’s eyes squeeze shut, the burn of tears forcing pressure to build in the corners. 
“Sometimes I think,” Yunho whispers tiredly, his eyes cloudy and unfocused as he stares into the distance. “I think she might hate it; that she might despise the day of her birth because of all the pain that came after.”
Hongjoong takes a deep breath in through his nose, trying to soothe the anguish that swells inside his ribs. There’s grief there, rage too, settling in the pit of his stomach and pushing upwards into his chest and throat. It’s not directed at you – it could never be. It’s towards your father, towards your village, towards anyone that has looked at you with disdain and uttered that foul moniker he knows makes you flinch. 
“I’m sorry, Yun.” 
Yunho shakes his head, leaning into Seonghwa’s hand and looking down at Hongjoong with his eyes glistening with welling tears. He swallows, clearly resisting the urge to cry, and kisses Seonghwa’s thumb when it brushes his mouth. “‘S okay, Seonghwa. I know your intentions were honorable.” 
Seonghwa nods, finally leaning forward until his head rests against Yunho’s collarbone. An arm wraps around the eldest’s shoulders and Hongjoong presses himself against Seonghwa’s back, encasing both him and Yunho. 
“So don’t bring up her birthday, then?” Hongjoong whispers, frown still drawing his lips downward. He speaks the question into Seonghwa’s shoulder blade, his lips grazing the tunic covering his skin. 
Yunho is silent for a long moment. No one speaks and the sounds of their hushed breaths are all that echo through the hollowed cavern. Yunho ponders his Captain’s question in the silence and thinks of your growth in the years you’ve spent in their camp. Would you rather they never mention your birthday again? Or would you appreciate a different kind of memory to replace the shaded pains of the ones long past?
Soon after, Yunho leans forward to bury his face into Seonghwa’s hair before he breathes deeply and pulls back, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. He thinks of you and that youthful grin that used to grace your lips more often as a child. Yunho recalls the mischief in your smile and the wonder that would flash across your eyes, and he begins to twist an idea around his thoughts. It’s that look he wants to see again. He always wants to see it; the mischief, the awe, the teasing grin you used to throw over your shoulder to get him to chase you through the training grounds. He wants that so badly. 
“Actually, Captain…” 
Hongjoong peels his head away from Seonghwa’s shoulder, looking up to meet Yunho’s eyes with a raised brow and a question in his eyes. “Hmm?”
Yunho finally manages a fraction of a smile, stroking his hand over Seonghwa’s shoulders as he speaks. 
“I think there might be a way we can show her that her birth is something worth celebrating. I’ll need your help though.” 
“Anything.” 
“Anything for her,” Seonghwa finishes at the same time Hongjoong speaks. 
Yunho’s heart swells. The soft grin on his features begins to stretch, mirrored by his two elders. Pride begins to surge beneath his skin and it makes him feel fuzzy. 
“What do you need?” Hongjoong whispers into the fraction of space separating their lips. Yunho huffs a smile, leaning closer until his mouth brushes against his leader’s. 
“How do you feel about a little trip, Captain?” 
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Time passes easily. About a week goes by after the conversation between you, Jongho and Seonghwa before Hongjoong announces that Ateez will be spending a few nights traveling away from camp. He won’t say where they’re traveling to nor why they’re going, but there’s a mischievous grin on his lips when you tilt your head in suspicion. No one will tell you anything about the adventure other than handing you a cloth pack to gather some things for the trip. 
Mingi helps you clean your blades and slides them into the scabbards on your back for you. Seonghwa packs food away carefully and slides extra servings of dried and cured meats into your pack followed by the fruit he knows you and Jongho love. San and Yeosang sit by your side as you help sort the first aid supplies the camp may need. The inky vines wrapping around Yeosang’s forearms flashes from beneath his sleeves, and you find yourself following the sight of the tattoo each time you peek a glimpse of golden skin covered in leafy shapes. 
San laughs and raises an eyebrow at his lover when he flicks his shirt above his waistband playfully, showcasing the span of scales descending over his hip and up his waist. He giggles when you reach forward to pull his shirt higher over his side, eager to follow the lines of ink up his torso. San pushes your hands away and promises to show you one day. Wooyoung enters the cavern a moment later and exchanges a knowing look with San, as if the same pattern of obsidian scales crawls up the opposite side of his own torso. 
On the morning Hongjoong announced their leave, you pack the last of your things diligently in the cloth pack given to you. There’s something fond rippling through your chest as you slide a hand over the large tunic laid across your bed. 
The sensation seeps all the way down to your toes, a bittersweet happiness that arose from the realization that you’ve never… owned things before. 
In that village, nothing was ever yours. It was always stolen or taken, never owned. 
But now… 
Now there’s all kinds of things in your corner of the medical cavern. There’s the little rope of twine with eight little beads Yeosang gave you to fiddle with so you wouldn’t pick and pull at your nails. There’s the bear-hide blanket Jongho handmade when you started to grow cold in the winter nights. A pile of spare clothes tailored to fit your size sits beneath your bed. A hollowed shell of smooth, rich cream sits beside you, specially made for you by Wooyoung and San when they noticed your scars were particularly aching in the cold weather. There’s a whetstone and cleaning tools beside your swords, left there by Mingi when he noticed your blades were dulling. Seonghwa always leaves a myriad of flowers beside your bed each week, and the dried stems of all his past bouquets hang above your on a piece of twine Joong brought you. There’s armor and chainmail beneath your bed, presented by Hongjoong with a shy smile. He cleans them for you when he thinks you’re not looking, ensuring the armor stays in good shape and protects you well. One of Yunho’s thicker tunics lies at the foot of your bed, a staple of your growing closet of clothes. He knows you like having his scent nearby. There’s books too, ones from the medical cavern and ones from Wooyoung, who you’ve discovered is quite the avid reader. 
There’s just… all sorts of things. 
And you’ve never really owned things before. It’s strange. And quite enjoyable, you decide.
You like owning things. You like being part of Ateez – being part of a family. 
With your lips twitching upwards into a fond smile, you stand with the last of your belongings and slide the straps of your cloth pack over your shoulders. It sits a little strangely on your back but you huff and step out of the cavern anyway. 
The rest of Ateez is already outside, shuffling the last of their belongings into storage and closing up the cave system behind you. A wooden sort of door slides shut behind you and the viny, earthen cover falls over it. It’s perfectly concealed from the wild, appearing just like any other cropping of rocks and stone. You marvel at their ingenuity and turn to find Wooyoung approaching you with a smile on his lips. 
“Good morning, Bug. Are you ready?” 
Your head tilts with a question as Wooyoung’s hands shift upwards to the straps of your pack. He raises a brow once, always asking for permission before he touches, and you shift closer and slide your hands onto his hips with a nod of your head. Wooyoung’s smile seems to widen, if at all possible, and he carefully begins to adjust the straps of your pack so it sits better across your back. Your gaze follows his hands, tracing over the fading scar on his one wrist – the space where a rusty shackle used to sit. Your lips quirk happily at the sight of the missing metal cuff, now long buried in the earth. He hums happily at the feeling of your hands on his waist, and chuckles beneath his breath when he feels your hands attempting to weasel under his shirt – likely another attempt to get a look at the tattoo you know sits there. 
Wooyoung huffs a breath as you skate a gentle hand over his bare hip, focusing on the wavy shape of an oscillating line your draw over his skin. He translates the word as ‘what’ and understands your inquisition to mean ‘Ready for what?’ 
“Can’t tell you,” he laughs, his chest shaking with the motion as you squeeze his hip in retaliation. “Sorry, baby. Captain’s orders; take it up with Hongjoong if you want to know so badly.” 
Your one eye rolls and Wooyoung laughs again, that bright, cackling sound echoing through the trees in a burst of noise that makes your heart flutter. You like Wooyoung’s laugh. 
“C’mon you two!” Hongjoong calls from a distance, already beginning to pace towards the southwest. “We’re burning daylight. Let’s get moving.” 
You respond with a choked hum despite knowing your Captain can’t hear it. Wooyoung grins, finally satisfied with the adjustments he’s made on your pack, and turns over his shoulder to call back, “We’re coming, Captain. Relax a little. It’s barely dawn, we’re on schedule.” 
You don’t need to see Hongjoong to know what expression the Captain has on his face. A tiny smile appears on your lips and when Wooyoung turns back to face you with a hand held out in offering, his grin beams once more. 
“C’mon, baby. You wanna walk with me and Sannie today?” 
Your answering nod is a little too eager, but Wooyoung doesn’t mention it. 
To you, anyway. The smug grin he shoots over his shoulder at Mingi and Yunho is met with a sigh and an eye roll. The vulgar gesture Mingi throws back goes unseen by you too. 
Seonghwa sees it though, and the sound of Mingi’s squawk when he’s slapped across the shoulder by the archer makes Wooyoung laugh again. 
It’s springtime. The forest is filled with bright shades of emerald green and flowers have begun to sprout along patches of sunlight. Lupin tickle at your ankles when you pass and you watch their lilac and lavender petals sway in the wind with a fond expression. Your last bouquet from Seonghwa was fresh Lupin flowers, a growing favorite of yours he has noticed. 
Wooyoung holds your hand as you walk, sometimes shifting to allow San to take his place. They talk happily as you stride through the forest, following Yeosang and Jongho as they lead your band of warriors through the trees. You still don’t know where you’re going nor why you’re going there, but you trust your Captain and you trust your family. 
Eventually, you unlink your hands from San to step ahead and walk besides Mingi and Yunho. San’s resounding pout and soft sigh are lost on you, but Wooyoung slides his hand into his partner’s empty fingers with a grin and a teasing poke to San’s side. Mingi intertwines his fingers with yours with a beaming grin and a happy chuckle, swinging your hands between you as you walk. He points out the flora and fauna he recognizes along the hike, explaining their uses as he recalls Yeosang’s teachings. He mentions the honey-haired healer’s tattoo sleeve of medicinal herbs and shows you some of the plants he recognizes to be inked into Yeosang’s skin. You eagerly categorize the leaves and petals of each plant, hoping that you’ll one day be able to find each one decorating Yeosang’s skin. 
The first night away from camp is spent sleeping beneath the stars. 
Your group of nine lays huddled together in a clearing in the pines, with a small fire burning quietly in the center for warmth. Shifts for watch are assigned and you find yourself curling between Yunho and San that night with a promise to take the final watch with Seonghwa. With cicadas clicking in the distance and a cool breeze rustling the branches above you, you find sleep easy that night. Strangely enough, despite resting out in the open with no cover around, you find you can sleep calmly. Nestled between your Yunho and your San, their body heat keeping you warm even underneath the fur blankets swaddled around you, you feel safe enough to sink into a well-earned sleep. You know the others will wake you if there’s trouble lurking about. They would never let anything happen to their family. 
The next day is spent between Hongjoong and Seonghwa, happily listening to their stories and eagerly nudging the both of them to show you some of the ink decorating their skin. Once you found out about Yeosang’s tattoos, there was nothing holding you back from asking the others about their own. Seonghwa relents with a teasing grin towards Hongjoong, showing you the pattern of large scales that crawl up his forearms. You trace the delicate scales with a happy sound, not noticing the shiver that crawls down Seonghwa’s spine. Hongjoong rolls his eyes at his partner, but he almost wishes to show you the ink decorating his back and spine too. He only waves you away with a laugh when you turn to him with a tilt of your head and a happy question on your lips. 
That night you sleep between Yeosang and Jongho, one of your legs wedged between the youngest’s and your hand clumsily intertwined between the healer’s fingers. This time, the nine of you settle in a cliff alcove, sheltered from the fog and the light drizzle of rain that spatters through the forest around midnight. 
There’s no telling how far you’ve traveled from Ateez’s hollow. It’s been two days of mostly hiking and stopping for breaks and meals, but you’ve long grown used to strenuous labor so the walk is not nearly as difficult as you once thought it to be. You still have little to no knowledge on your destination as your Captain is tight-lipped about the matter. He only gives you soft smiles and quiet laughter when you nag him about where or why you’ve left camp. 
On the third and last day of your long journey, you walk between Yeosang and Jongho at the front of your pack. The two have been leading you for three days, seeming to know the way without needing a map or compass. Every once and a while, Yeosang looks up at the night sky and lifts a hand to palm at the stars. You understand he must be checking your position, ensuring that they’re still on the right path, but you don’t ask. You find Polaris winking down at you each night with a fondness in your chest, and you give her a gentle, barely-there smile each time you see her. 
The healer and his partner pace through the trees with newfound urgency that morning. The two members eagerly shuffle through the trees with beaming grins and an energy that you cannot help but mimic. They’re excited about something – unfathomably so. 
“We’re almost there, honey,” Yeosang encourages you, holding out a hand to help you scale the final boulder before you begin your descent back down the mountainside. “Just another mile or so, I promise.”
You trust him. 
The others have begun to feed on the buzzing atmosphere building in the group. There’s tension simmering, but a good kind, as if there’s something awaiting your family at your destination. You don’t know what it is, but it must be something good if they’re eagerly beginning to quicken the pace. 
Soon after you begin your descent down the small mountain, the dense foliage of pine trees and packed soil gives way to something softer – something you’ve never quite seen or felt before. It’s pliable and squishy beneath your feet, allowing your weight to sink into the material with each step. It leaves footprints in your wake, the ground shifting and moving beneath your feet. 
Sand. 
It’s sand. 
You know it’s sand because Yeosang has some collected in a small jar in the medical cavern. You’ve never seen it before: sand or the sea. You found the tiny bottle of eroded stone once and carefully examined it with a puzzled expression until Yeosang found you. The miniscule grains of rock and shell shifted in the bottle as Yeosang explained where it was from. 
You listened to him for hours that day. 
He talked about the sea and his life as a captain of his own ship from the hour of the sun’s peak until it descended beneath the horizon. You were fascinated. Eagerly hanging onto every single one of his words, you listened to Yeosang with a rapture you couldn’t describe. He spoke of the ocean and the smell of salt in the fresh air, mentioning that there was a particular hint of something so ocean-like in the scent that he couldn't begin to describe. Yeosang described the sand and the shore, detailing how the plush sand like the stuff in his bottle gave way to harder packed ground the closer you grew to the sea. He talked of how it felt to play in the waves and to feel the cool touch of the ocean on his skin. 
You marveled at him for hours, longing desperately to one day know the smell he spoke of, to feel the ocean breeze tickle your skin and to feel its waves brush against your feet. 
It sounded wonderful. 
So when the sand beneath your feet begins to thicken, giving way to clumsier footsteps and the sound of something roaring in the distance, you perk upwards. 
Your entire body slams to a halt, startling San who walks behind you. Jerking upwards, your one eye darts over to Yeosang, who stands with Jongho at his side, already looking at you. There’s this look in their eyes; something fond and gentle – an expression you’ve begun to recognize. They watch you as you begin to piece together the information you’ve gathered of this little trip, smiles on their faces as you realize where they’ve taken you. 
At your side, San begins to bend forward, his hands reaching out to pull at the laces of your boots and chuckling beneath his breath. You reach out to stabilize yourself on his shoulder as you make a sound of confusion. 
‘What’s going on?’ you try to question without speaking.
At your back, Yunho runs a hand down your spine and soothes the tension in your shoulders. You reach back, grasping his hand with a strength that surprises you and draw that oscillating squiggle across the back of his hand with a bewildered expression. 
‘What’s happening?’ 
There’s another word you want to say. One you don’t have a translation for. A word you’ve never spoken or seen. 
Ocean. The sea. 
You don’t have a word for it. 
But you can smell it now. That salty, fresh sort of scent with a hint of something you cannot place. Just like Yeosang described. 
The sea. 
San taps your leg, garnering your attention and helping you lift your foot so you can place it on his knee. He’s kneeling at your feet, one leg propped up to lift your foot and the other in the sand beneath him. The healer pulls at your laces, beginning to untie your shoes and pull them from your feet with a grin. 
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmurs with that low timber that makes you shiver. “Let’s get these off.”
Your held tilts in confusion. Seonghwa chuckles behind you, leaning into Mingi’s side and shooting a look over at Wooyoung. “Gotta take your shoes off unless you want sand in the soles, Bug. It’ll be a pain to walk back with all that in ‘em. I promise you’ll never be able to get it all out.” 
Hongjoong laughs from beside Jongho, the Captain throwing his head back with a knowing grin. “Speaking from experience, huh, darling?” 
Seonghwa rolls his eyes and ignores his lover, dropping a hand to intertwine with Wooyoung’s. The younger eagerly locks their fingers together, smiling happily and leaning his head onto Seonghwa’s shoulder as you process everything. 
The others begin to pull off their own shoes, tying them to their packs or holding the laces in their fingers. Mingi laughs and pushes Wooyoung when he bends over to undo his laces, and when Wooyoung stumbles, he shouts indignantly and lurches upwards for revenge. Seonghwa laughs and tries to settle them, only to end up yanked out of the way by a grinning Yeosang. Wooyoung and Mingi screech at each other, beginning to race down the sand towards the roaring sound that continues to swell in the distance. 
You worriedly look down at San, his dark irises already looking up at you with adoration swirling behind them. The healer pulls off your sock and carefully sets your foot back onto the sand, watching as you marvel at the plush, cool material beneath the soles of your feet. 
“C’mon, tiny,” Yunho laughs behind you, chest rumbling as he speaks. The vibration echoes through your back from how close the warrior is pressed against you. He grins when you shiver pleasantly. “We’ve gotta catch up.” 
San lifts your other foot delicately and places it on his waiting knee, repeating the process of taking off your shoe and sock before he ties the laces together and stores them away in his pack. Before he sets your foot back onto the sand, San’s eyes twinkle with something mischievous.
He leans forward and drags his fingers across the skin of your calf, eyes crinkling as he smiles. You look back down at him with your stomach fluttering pleasantly, watching as San leans forward and presses his lips to the side of your calf. 
Oh. 
His lips skate over the muscle and his hand rests where your thigh connects with the knee. You feel your breathing still. Air catches in your lungs, and some burst of emotion lurches into your throat as you stop and stare down at the healer with one widened eye. You can feel the smile on San’s soft lips as he drags his mouth from your calf to your knee, kissing your skin sweetly as he goes. He drifts over scars both fresh and faded, but does not stop moving as he ascends up your calf. San leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake, your skin practically shivering under his touch and lighting ablaze when he pulls away.
Oh. 
You stare open-mouthed at the healer when San finally slides a hand down your leg and deposits it onto the sand. You lick your lips once, trying desperately to come up with words to say, but there’s nothing. Just the trail of blazing heat San left behind and a roaring fire beginning to spread inside your chest. You can practically feel the heat in your face, and you lift a hand to palm at your cheek as San watches with a teasing grin. Your figure practically vibrates as you shiver through the emotion bursting through you. 
“San…” 
Said healer mimics your shiver as you whisper his name, fingers dancing along your calf before he stops. He presses one final kiss to your knee, at the crease of the joint, and this time your eye slides shut with a shiver. The plush feeling of his lips against your skin is ambrosia for your soul and the barest touch of moisture is left behind when he finally pulls away. 
He looks up at you with honey in his irises, hand skating down your calf once more and smiles. 
“C’mon, Bug. We’ve got places to be,” he teases, saccharine timber never failing to make you melt. 
As if he wasn’t the one distracting you. 
Finally, you’re able to squeeze his shoulder thankfully and San beams up at you in the way that makes those sweet little dimples poke out of his cheeks. You nearly lean forward to caress a finger of the indents that make your heart mushy, but still as the cool sand sinks between your toes. 
It’s… soft. 
The sand melts beneath your soles like butter, cradling your heels and caressing your skin like silk. You wiggle your toes and awe at the feeling, watching the sand shift and move with your lips just barely parted in wonder. San watches from your feet, his gentle eyes roaming over your partly-concealed face and grinning at the expression plastered across your features. Your lips are parted, but just barely, taking deep breaths to inhale the fresh air of the sea breeze and one eye dilated with awe. San's heart thumps vibrantly beneath his ribs, a song of your name. It calls out to you sweetly, and San swears that when he runs his hand across the bare skin of your leg, brushing over scars and broken skin, he can hear your heart call his name in return. 
Your one eye darts upwards to meet your Captain’s gaze. 
Hongjoong stares at you with some ineffable softness in his expression. He reaches a hand out to grasp your fingers, helping you step forward away from San. The healer stands from his kneeling position, his own footwear now missing, and joins you at your side. 
“You like it?” Hongjoong whispers as you near. 
The vigorous nod of your head is almost comical, and Hongjoong chuckles beneath his breath. Yes. Yes you like it. 
San beams at your side, unable to stop the mirthful sound of his laughter. It erupts from his chest in that giggling way that you adore. You tilt your head to look at him, your chest swelling and heart thumping with the tumultuous feelings surging within you. San reaches out to run a hand down your arm and you lean close offering a single line of ‘thanks’ across his palm. 
Yunho leans forward and pecks a kiss across your forehead, directly over the mask concealing the right half of your face and then turns to walk after Wooyoung and Mingi, San at his heels. He doesn’t acknowledge the kiss, but your heart jumps into your throat regardless. Your fingers itch to follow him, twitching in an attempt to reach for him, but you turn back to your Captain instead. 
Hongjoong is still looking at you, that ineffable softness still radiating from him. “C’mon, angel. Let’s go see the ocean.” 
You’ve never been more excited. 
Hongjoong begins pulling you in the direction the others have disappeared in, following them over the dunes of sand. At first, he pulls your awestruck figure behind him as you make your way through the deeping sand, turning back to watch you marvel at the grains of white and cream colored grains. Your feet drag, slowing the two of you down as you continue to look down at the sand beneath you. At one point, you can’t resist the temptation and you stop, carefully pulling your hand from Hongjoong’s to bend at the knees and drop into the sand. 
“Woah, angel!” Hongjoong gasps as you let go of his hand and urgently drop into the earth below. “Careful!” 
Dragging your fingers through the silky material, you watch the tiny pieces of sediment cascade back into the hills beneath you as they trail between your fingers. The sand is cool to the touch and gentle as it scratches against your skin. You thought it would be rough, but it’s not. Not this sand anyway. 
Seonghwa chuckles behind you, stopping to drop his hands beneath your shoulders and gently lift you back up to your feet. The others are little specks in the distance, just a few hundred yards away. The eldest carefully sets you on your feet and slides a hand down to intertwine with your own. 
“C'mon, lovebug. We haven’t even reached the good part yet.” 
The good part? You wonder. How could it possibly get any better than this? 
But as the crashing sound gets louder with each step you take and the smell of salt continues to grow stronger, you begin to realize what the good part is. 
Soon after, it becomes you dragging Hongjoong and Seonghwa through the sand dunes. Eagerly tugging them behind you as you race towards the others, you sink into the sand and stumble a few times, only catching yourself when either member scrambles to grab your waist. You push quicker through the deepening sand each time you right yourself, racing through the dunes until you finally see it. 
The sea. 
And you stop moving. 
Hongjoong and Seonghwa nearly crash into your back as you freeze, body halting at the top of the sand dune. Your one eye is transfixed on the view before you, mouth parted and body slack with awe. 
Waves are crashing along the shore, breaking into foamy surf as they collide with the cream-colored sand. There are little birds with thin, long legs dancing in the shoreline, pecking at things in the packed sand. You watch with fascination as they rush away in a flock from an oncoming wave. When the foam finally settles, they return to their feeding grounds, continuing to peck away at something beneath the darker sand. The smell of salt fills your senses and there’s a brush of water against your skin as a breeze carries a mist of salt onto the shoreline. 
You’ve never seen so much… color before. 
The ocean is blue. Green too, and teal and dark and bright, and every color in the range you can possibly think of. It’s aquamarine in the peaks of crashing waves and a darker cyan in the deepness of the salty water. There’s pale blue, creamy skies and even paler cream-colored clouds. You nearly wish you could reach out and touch one. 
It’s wonderful. And it’s so much more than you think you deserve. 
With awe on your features and mouth slightly parted, you stare mystified at the sea before you. Hongjoong steps up beside you, the others starting to circle back to stand nearby. They just stand there… watching you for a minute. 
They watch your one pupil dilate and your expression softens into wonderous glee. Their hands intertwine with each other, fingers squeezing one another and hearts thumping happily in their chests. There’s pride there, and affection too, roaring madly beneath their skin and calling out to the sea with a throaty, triumphant call. 
You like it. You like the sea. 
And they like you. 
Hongjoong slides a hand down your arm until he can gently link your scarred fingers with his own. Your attention briefly shifts away from the sea to look over at your captain. 
His soft brown hair rustles as the sea breeze flutters through the strands, and Hongjoong smiles. Eyes scrunching into a beaming grin, the one that you like so much, he offers a squeeze of your palm. The scar crossing his one eye moves with his expression and you adore the way it looks when he smiles. Chocolate brown irises flicker in the brightness of the sunlight and for a moment, you think you much prefer the color of his eyes than the enchanting blue-green of the sea. 
But it’s tough competition, of course. 
Hongjoong squeezes your hand once more, fully drawing your attention back to him, and he leans close to carefully grasp the side of your face. His palm gently cups your mask, stroking his thumb over the tough material with a delicateness you cannot fathom deserving. But he touches you regardless, even if it's the mask instead of your skin. Hongjoong doesn’t care that you continue to wear it. None of them do. It’s a part of you, and they’ll continue to care for you all the same. 
“Are you happy?” The Captain inquires, licking his lips as he watches you. 
The vigor in your nod nearly makes him laugh. His beaming grin only seems to widen and you find yourself stunned at how beautiful he looks happy. 
“Yeah? That’s good. I’m glad you’re happy, angel.” 
You want to ask something else. Something about why your little clan has ventured this far or perhaps something else, but you can’t begin to find the words for it. 
You don’t need to though. 
Hongjoong leans closer, his warm, umber eyes scanning your features as he whispers something only for you to hear. 
“Happy birthday, Bug.” 
You barely register the sentiment before your captain leans forward and gently presses his lips to the crown of your head. 
You don’t breathe. Too frightened that any movement will force him to pull away, you stay remarkably still and stare numbly into Hongjoong’s chest. 
His lips linger for a long moment against your hairline, and you feel the warmth of his exhale against your scalp. The feeling makes your stomach flutter pleasantly and suddenly your body feels like you’re going to vibrate out of sheer enjoyment. Another shiver tickles its way up your spine and you finally exhale shakily. Reaching a hand upwards, you clutch onto the hand Hongjoong has still cupping your cheek. 
Her heart finally throbs with a dull ache. 
Your birthday? 
You didn’t even think… 
Hongjoong exhales softly and bends to drop a second kiss onto your mask, just above where your right eye would be. It throbs suddenly, but not so painfully this time. 
Your birthday. 
They came all this way for you? 
All of this… leaving the camp, walking all this way, spending nights on the road, showing you the sea for the first time… they did this to celebrate your birthday? 
Your heart hurts. 
No one has ever done that for you before. 
You suppose Yunho and Daia tried once… but that didn’t end so well. Salt wells behind your one eye and your lip twitches just once, but it's enough for Hongjoong to catch. Your chest aches with the memory of your mother. It’s a hurt you could never quite soothe. 
The Captain’s smile is still bright when he pulls away but there’s a sadness beneath the joy. No, not sadness, you suppose. Something empathetic – something… bittersweet. 
Hongjoong knows. They all do. 
“My birthday?” Your mouth parts to let out the croaked sound. Your voice has gotten better. The deeper, rough tone of your voice has begun to fade after finally learning to use it again. It’s beginning to return to what it used to be – slow and steadily. 
From behind you, Yeosang hums deeply. You recognize the sound without turning to look at him. His voice always carries that undertone of sweet and smooth honey, and you can’t find any other way to describe it. 
“Yeah, honey. You told me you’ve never seen the sea, right? We thought it would make a good birthday present.” 
The healer is standing behind Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung at his sides and the rest of Ateez just beyond. They’re all here. For you. 
You shift on your feet, barely able to restrain the wetness of your one eye as you attempt to face them. Your heart still throbs, but it’s more of a pleasant ache – a good one. A sea breeze rustles your hair. Three silver rings click against your mask; a comforting sound that reminds you of home – of Yunho. The scent of salt in the air fills you with warmth and the silky sand beneath your feet cradles you in the earth’s gentle hands. The world itself seems to wrap around you in its kindness, delicately embracing you as if asking for forgiveness. 
It feels like your mother – like the hugs you can barely remember. 
The burn of tears returns tenfold. 
You’ve never celebrated your birthday before. It was never a day others regarded with joy, so you supposed it was only fair to see it the same way. You don’t even really know what day you were born. Father never told you – he never told anyone. 
But… perhaps this day – the day Ateez has chosen for you – can be your birthday. Maybe this time it doesn’t have to be a bad thing anymore. 
“We wanted to show you something new. Something good. Do you like it?” Wooyoung whispers as you process your feelings. His voice is apprehensive, as if he isn’t quite sure how you’ll respond to celebrating your birthday. You can barely hear him over the roaring sound of waves colliding with the shoreline and birds peeping in the surf. 
You’re already throwing yourself into Wooyoung’s arms before a moment of silence can pass. You crash into his chest with a crooned sound, a desperate cry of joy. 
“Yes!” You finally croak, the word sounding more like a sob than an agreement. “Yes, I like it!”
Wooyoung laughs happily as he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck with a joyful sound. His chest vibrates with his laughter and you love the way it feels against your body. One of your hands slides out from between you and you urgently grasp ahold of Yeosang’s shirt and tug him into your pile with a quick movement. San follows soon after, lured in by Wooyoung’s touch and suddenly you’re buried beneath a mountain of Ateez’s warmth. 
Another wet sob leaves your lips, but it’s much closer to a laugh this time. 
“I love it…” 
And we love you. 
He doesn’t say it aloud, but Wooyoung hopes you hear it anyway. 
Seonghwa lets out a hearty laugh despite it sounding wet with his own tears, and he wraps an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulders as he tugs his captain close. The leader’s eyes are watery as he and the archer pile into your embrace. Mingi and Yunho follow quickly after, with the tallest of the two reaching out to snag Jongho’s tunic. The youngest is already moving, sliding beneath Yeosang’s arm to nuzzle into the healer’s side. One of his hands nestles between his lover’s ribs, resting atop your bicep. You push closer into their hands, warm and happy and still softly crying. 
You love it. 
It cannot possibly get any better than this. Not even the comforting breeze of the ocean air brushing over your skin nor the warmth of any roaring campfire could rival this feeling. There’s no warmth in the world that can surmount the heat of Ateez embracing you. Their hands carefully sweeping over skin leaves trails of pleasant heat in their wake, and the throb of your aching heart is only soothed by a soft coo leaving San’s lips. Wooyoung slides a hand over your head, pulling you closer into his neck, and you feel a bigger hand – Yunho’s, you know – scratch gently over your scalp. Another settles onto your hip, rubbing gentle circles into the bone. They’re Seonghwa’s, you recognize the calluses on his two fingers when they brush over the skin of your bare hip. Mingi’s hand settles across your back, resting between your shoulder blades. His firm touch and big hands are easy to decipher. Jongho’s wrap around your arm, strong and steadfast, just like you know him to be. Your captain’s smaller hand finds your fingers, sliding between them as you grip onto San with a fierce grip. 
Hongjoong’s hands tremble when he twists his grip to drag a line down your left ring finger. His gaze finds yours, a watery smile on his lips when your mouth parts in shock and your one eye dilated beyond comprehension. The Captain finishes drawing the line at the tip of your nail, where each of his fingers meets the end of each of yours. Then Hongjoong slides his hand into yours and squeezes three times. 
Yunho must have taught him that one. 
Because no one else has ever uttered those words to you – least of all meant them. 
Your grip tightens fervently, pulling until you can press Hongjoong’s hand into your chest and let him feel the racing pulse of your heart. It slams into your ribs with a thunderous pace, beating in a pattern you hope he can discern. You pull your head from Wooyoung’s neck just slightly. Just enough to lean down and press your lips to Hongjoong’s fingers. 
You hope he knows what it means. 
He does. 
“Happy birthday, tiny,” Yunho murmurs into the shared space between the nine of you. “We’re so happy you’re here.” 
You weep. 
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Ateez spends three nights and four days at the beach. 
On the first, you don’t have the courage to venture too far into the shore. The roaring of waves crashing onto the sand is intimidating when you don’t know how to swim. You settle for watching the others splash and wrestle in the shallow sea. Their shouts of glee are enough joy to warm your heart. 
You watch Mingi grapple with Hongjoong on the shoreline, huffing softly with a grin when Mingi inevitably gets the upper hand. The guard lifts Hongjoong over his shoulder and laughs deeply as he storms his way towards the sea. 
“Put me down!” Hongjoong roars, smacking his hand against Mingi’s back. “Mingi!” 
The guard only laughs and spins the two of them in the shallows as he wades deeper into the waves. 
“Don’t you dare!” 
You watch as Mingi laughs brightly once more, calling out a “too late!” as he unceremoniously dumps his captain into the sea.  
Hongjoong dunks beneath the water with a roar, and for a moment you worry he won’t emerge again. He does, however, and lurches from the waves with an undignified shout and lunges towards Mingi as he laughs. 
“Get back here!” 
You grin and watch the two continue to wrestle in the waves. 
Jongho takes you onto the nearby rocks and shows you the wonders of tide pools. He and Yeosang spent years living by the sea, and he murmurs hundreds of little facts about each of the animals he can find. Crouching down by a shallow pool, Jongho reaches into the cool water and ever so carefully lifts a sea star from the water. He cradles it delicately, leaving it half submerged as he pulls you closer with his other hand. 
“This is a sea star,” he whispers, looking up at you and gesturing for you to crouch beside him. “You want to feel? You won’t hurt it.” 
 When you crouch at his side, Jongho pulls your hand towards him with a smile. Bent at the knees, you lean into his side and watch with a bated breath and marvel at the texture of the sea star still carefully held in Jongho’s hands. It’s soft and squishy beneath your delicate touch and you huff a smile as you watch with a mystified expression. 
You watch some of the tiny feet of the sea star wiggle in Jongho’s hand and whip your head over to face him with a question on your lips. 
Jongho is already looking at you, watching you instead of the sea star in his hands. He’s smiling, softly and sweetly, his eyes fixed on your one eye. They drift from your left one to where your right would be if not hidden behind the mask, then he drops them to your lips. Your breath stutters and you swallow shyly before Jongho lifts his eyes back to your own. 
He smiles, as if nothing happened and continues, “See the poky creatures down here? The ones that look like they have needles? Those are urchins. The sea stars will eat those.” 
It takes more effort than you’d like to admit to pull your gaze away from Jongho’s face. 
At another tidal pool, Jongho points out a creature he calls an anemone. The vibrant teal and green color of its shape mystifies you and you lean closer to investigate it. Listening carefully to Jongho’s explanation of the anemone, you look back up at him with a question in your eyes. 
“Yeah, you can touch that one too. Be careful though.” 
You don’t understand his warning but carefully drop your hand into the pool to delicately caress the anemone anyway. The chill waters surround your skin and you lean closer to touch the creature, you let out a startled squeal when its sticky tentacles wrap themselves around your finger. Surprised, you lurch away from the pool, confusion in your face and hands braced on the rock beside you. 
Jongho laughs so hard you think he might choke. 
You turn to look at him with furrowed brows and an upset pout on your lips, a little disgruntled Jongho didn’t tell you that would happen. 
The youngest continues to laugh at the utter confusion in your expression, finally bracing himself against you and apologizing. 
“Sorry, I’m sorry, Bug. I couldn’t help myself!” 
You frown and push gently at his chest, posing a little miffed at Jongho’s teasing. The youngest snorts and pulls you closer to his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 
“I won’t do it again, I promise,” he laughs. “We should wash your hands though, the stingers on those anemones can leave toxins on your skin. I don’t want you to touch your face without cleaning your hands first.”
You huff and nod, letting him lead you away from the rocks and towards the others. When you find San, you race away from Jongho and bury yourself into his chest with a pretend pout. The healer wraps you up in his embrace without question, turning to look at Jongho with a raised brow. Jongho rolls his eyes and laughs. 
Seonghwa and Wooyoung take you to collect shells in the afternoon. 
Your footprints linger in the sand behind you as you hold the archer’s hand and walk along the shoreline. The sand is packed beneath your feet closer to the shore and you find that there are all sorts of different shells just above the water line. 
You recognize some of the larger, smoother shells Yeosang and San use to store medicine sometimes. They’re scallop-shaped and hollow in the middle, and the healers like to use them for creams or other ointments. Seonghwa helps you carry some back to the healers who gratefully pile your collection into one of their packs. They can always use more shells in the medical cavern. 
Further down the beach, you find a plethora of smaller shells and drop down into the sand to rummage through them. There’s hundreds of them, some twisting into points and others round at the edges. Some are still split into pieces and others are still whole. Some are closed like a locket. Seonghwa tells you to leave those ones alone – there’s still creatures living in those ones. You gasp and carefully set the shell back down into the sand ever so delicately. The archer smiles fondly at your care for the earth and her creatures. 
One of the bigger shells that washes up on the shore catches your attention, and you rush over to the pristine, cream colored object. Yeosang called these conches. When you excitedly turn over the shell, you’re startled to find a spiny looking creature inside. A large claw grazes your hand and your heart lurches. 
You shout in surprise, jerking away from the shell with a gasp. 
“Bug?!” 
Seonghwa is at your side in an instant, hands on your back and pulling you away from the shell. “What happened?” 
 He doesn’t know why you shouted at first, too worried something has hurt you. His hands slide across your shoulders, turning you to face him and urgently scanning you for injuries. But when he looks down at the crab claw emerging from the shell, Seonghwa feels his chest shake with quiet laughter. Your head jerks back to look at the archer.
“It’s alright, darling. You just startled the crab living inside this one. He won’t hurt you, honey.”
Each shell you turn over for the rest of the day is done carefully and gently, and Seonghea feels his heart tug affectionately at how cute you look doing so. You nudge one with a stick to see if any claws come out and Seonghwa has to bury his smile in Wooyoung’s shoulder. 
“She’s so precious,” the warrior murmurs under his breath. 
Seonghwa hums in agreement, his head lifting from his partner’s shoulder to find you waving them over excitedly. 
“We’re coming, sweetheart!” 
Wooyoung settles at your side with a grin and looks down at the smooth stones in your hands. There’s a few rocks mixed in with the more ornate looking shells you’ve gathered, and Wooyoung tilts his head in an attempt to decipher why you’ve called them over. 
“What’s goin’ on?” 
Seonghwa’s heart stutters at the beaming smile on your lips. You smile more and this is not the first he’s ever seen, but each time you look up at him with that grin on your face, Seonghwa feels his stomach flutter and pride swell from his gut. He almost bites down on his bottom lip to resist sending you back a grin of his own, but Seonghwa doesn’t. And he’s grateful he does, because the way your one eye crinkles with joy when he smiles down at you makes his cheeks burn and his skin tingle. 
“Look!” You urgently whisper, swallowing around the word to repress how sore your throat is. 
Directing his attention to the dark stones in your hands, Seonghwa’s brows furrow in confusion. 
“I don’t understand.” 
You lift the stone beside his face, pulling Wooyoung into your side as you do. The two of you face Seonghwa as the archer grows more confused. The dark brown, near ebony-colored stone is lifted just beside his temple and you watch with a marveled expression as you shift your gaze from the rock to his eyes. 
“What is it?” Seonghwa urges. 
Wooyoung grins, his teeth flashing as he laughs sweetly. His two-toned hair ruffles in the breeze and Wooyoung turns to face you, squeezing your hip as he slides an arm around you. 
“That’s a good find, Bug,” he murmurs, looking back up at Seonghwa with honey in his gaze. “The same shade as his eyes. It matches him perfectly.” 
You nearly vibrate with happiness, wiggling a little in Wooyoung’s arms as Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle. “Really?” 
You nod fervently, reaching for his hand and dropping the smooth stone into his hand and curling his fingers around it. Seonghwa holds the rock carefully, not looking away from your one eye as he lifts it to press into his heart. 
“Thank you, darling.” 
You smile again, just a little twitch of your lips and nod. Then you turn to Wooyoung and weasel your way out of his grip to hold another up for him. This stone is a similar shade as Seonghwa’s, but just different enough that Seonghwa can see where you’ve matched this one to the exact hue of Wooyoung’s umber irises. 
You hold it out to Wooyoung with a tilt of your head and Wooyoung has to resist the urge to lean forward and squish your cheeks. He’s rarely seen you so excited – so… at ease. It makes every muscle in his body eager with the urge to hold you close and squeeze you tight. 
“For me?”
You nod excitedly and Wooyoung accepts the stone with a skip of his pulse. “Thank you, baby.” 
He and Seonghwa exchange looks and Wooyoung slips the stone into his pocket, where he knows he’ll keep it safe. 
“Help me?” You whisper softly, gesturing to the plethora of stones and shells beneath you. “For the others.” 
“Of course.” 
The two help you find six more stones, one of each of the other members of Ateez. Each one is the exact shade of their eyes – colors you know by heart. 
Wooyoung cannot tell you that after the trip, the rest of the boys gather to look at the stones and shells you collected for them. He doesn’t tell you that Mingi finds some twine and they braid bands for each other, carefully depositing their gifts onto string and binding them to each other’s wrists. 
On the first night, the nine of you sleep around a bonfire. 
The crackling flames keep you warm from the evening’s cool breeze, but you don’t think you sleep at all. The excitement and pure glee from the day keeps you awake. Adrenaline still roars through your veins and you settle for watching the stars for a moment longer. You find the twinkling shape of Polaris easily, and whisper your thanks up at her, just like you do every night since Jongho pointed her out. 
She winks back. 
The fire continues to crackle and the smell of wood burning soothes your nerves. Eventually, you pull yourself from your bed roll, carefully maneuvering away from Yunho’s warm chest and wrap your blanket around your shoulders. Quietly, you make your way over to the massive piece of driftwood facing the shore. 
Then, you drop silently beside Mingi, who sits and watches the sea. It’s technically his watch, but the guard faces the ocean as if he cannot bring himself to look away. 
Mingi does not startle when you find your place at his side, only shifting slightly to allow you to get comfortable. As you settle, you scooch as close as you can towards Mingi’s broad chest. Your side presses into his as you rest your weight against him and Mingi smiles, still looking at the sea. He easily accommodates your weight and wraps an arm around your shoulder, covering both your forms with his blanket. You snuggle close, burying your face into his neck and continue to watch the waves crash against the shore as the moon illuminates their peaks. 
You sit there for hours. Though you cannot sleep, excitement still pumping through your body, you find staying awake with Mingi is just as nice. Far more comforting, you’d even say. Mingi’s body heat keeps you pleasantly warm and his big arm stays wrapped around your waist. Soon after you settle, the guard drops his cheek onto your head and he breathes slow and deep. 
Even when Yeosang relieves him of his shift, taking over his place for watch, Mingi remains still. The two of you stay there until neither of you can keep your slowly fluttering lids open any longer. 
Yunho finds the two of you in the morning, and he kisses Mingi awake with a sweet grin and soft eyes. He brushes a hand through your hair and drops a kiss onto your head, eventually dropping onto your other side where he wraps an arm around both you and Mingi as the three of you watch the sunrise. 
The second day, you finally find the courage to venture into the waves with San and Yunho at your sides. Yeosang stands in the waves, waiting for you. 
San leads the way, walking backwards into the surf and holding both your hands. Yunho stands beside you, one of his arms reaching out to steady you and reassure you that he’s still there. You make eye contact with Yeosang and he winks at you. The honey-haired healer grew up in the sea. You know that if anything goes wrong, Yeosang will know what to do. 
“Let’s go, tiny. You’ve got this,” Yunho encourages, softly nudging you forward as you apprehensively toe the water line. 
You can’t swim. And you’ve never ventured into the sea before. 
It’s a little daunting, but the dimples on San’s cheeks and the smile on his lips encourages you to keep walking. You clutch his hands with a vice grip and gasp as the cold, salty waves cascade over your toes. 
“Sorry, lovebug. It’s a little cold.”
San laughs as you throw him a withering look. That information would have been helpful before you stepped into the sea. Yeosang laughs at your side, rubbing a hand along your waist and watching you shiver at the warmth of his touch. 
No matter how many times they touch you, you cannot help the way it makes you feel. 
“A little further and we can stop,” San murmurs, squeezing your hand when you stumble in the sand and pulling you closer. “C’mon, baby.” 
A few steps further and you stand at Yeosang’s side, digging your toes into the plush sand beneath your feet and marveling at how the waves lap at your knees. It’s cold, but you don’t mind since it’s a reprieve from the midday sun. When you turn your back to the sea, a strong wave pushes you closer to San and he laughs when you stumble into his chest. Water splashes upwards, and you get your first taste of seawater. 
“Woah!” San laughs, steadying you by the waist and watching as you stick your tongue out with an indignant sound. He can’t help the way laughter bubbles from his chest. You look positively betrayed by the ocean, as if the taste of salt on your tongue personally offends you. 
Yunho and Yeosang dissolve into giggles behind San, leaning onto each other to support themselves. Your one eye narrows and you shoot them an angry look, but San thinks you look more like an angry, wet cat than anything scary. Of course, he would never tell you that.
“I’m sorry, Bug!” Yunho laughs. “You just look so funny!” 
San listens to you grumble something under your breath, something that sounds like ‘showing him something funny,’ and then you bend at the waist and splash a mountain of water in his direction. 
Yunho guffaws at the betrayal and San dissolves into his own laughter, bending at the waist and bracing a hand on his chest as he cackles. Your grin is positively menacing, Yeosang decides. He wonders if you’ll become as much of a brat as Wooyoung if this continues. 
Yunho, now drenched in salt water and wet hair dripping into his eyes, enacts revenge and lunges towards you. San, ever the sweetheart, throws himself in between you and Yunho and the two sink into the waves with smiles. 
Eventually, when your skin begins to wrinkle from the time you spend in the waves and the sun begins to set, Yeosang and you step away from the shore to settle against the same piece of driftwood that marks your temporary camp. Yeosang sits atop the log and you lay just below him on the sand. You lean against his leg, just watching the rest of the boys continue to dance and swim in the surf. The sound of their laughter makes your heart happy and their gleaming smiles leave a grin of your own on your lips. 
It’s nice – smiling again, you mean. It’s a gift from Ateez they have not realized they’ve given, but you take care to treasure it regardless. 
You wrap an arm around Yeosang’s tattooed calf, your fingers occasionally dragging along the pattern of thorns that descend from his thigh. They wind around his leg, ending at the bone of his ankle and you’ve seldom been able to keep your hands away from the obsidian ink since he showed you. This, of course, is much to Yeosang’s delight, and the honey-haired healer can barely resist the way he beams so brightly when your delicate hands skim across his tattoos again. He loves it when you touch him. 
Mingi and Seonghwa leave the shoreline after a few minutes. They step away from the water to stoke the bonfire at the center of your makeshift camp. The flickering amber hues dance along burning bark and release a pleasant aroma onto the beach. You inhale deeply and lean further into Yeosang, humming happily when one of his hands reaches out to scratch along your scalp. 
Head scratches have become one of your weaknesses, you suppose. All it takes is for one of them to run their nails along your head and you’ll sink into their embrace with a happy sigh and mushy bones. 
When Mingi is satisfied with the roar of the campfire, he and Seonghwa press kisses to Yeosang’s hair and brush fingers over your hairline as they pace back towards the shore. 
A harmonious shout of glee leaves San’s lips as Jongho tackles him into the shallow surf, and there’s an uproar of laughter from amongst the boys. San shouts something along the lines of being cold and twists in the waves in an attempt to pin Jongho beneath him. Jongho, easily the strongest of the nine of you, maintains his place above San but spits salt water out of his mouth in surprise when his partner douses him with a splash. In revenge, Jongho prepares to dunk San’s head beneath the water, only to be tackled into the sea by Yunho. The youngest lets out a squawk of surprise as he sinks into the water and the laughter begins again. 
You turn your head towards Yeosang, resting your cheek against his knee and looking up at him with your one eye. You nudge him gently with your knuckles, drawing his attention to you. 
“Are you going to join them?” 
The honey-haired healer barely catches your question over the cacophony in the surf, but he smiles at the sound of your voice. He slides a hand deeper into your hair and scratches against the nape of your neck, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth when your eye flutters shut briefly. 
His eyes, chocolate brown and gleaming with the flicker of flames before you, are warm and strong. They look down at you like you’re the only thing he sees – the only thing he wants to see. 
It’s familiar. This moment is too. 
Shivering gently from the weight of his gaze and bones feeling mushy and warm, you look up at Yeosang and wait patiently for his answer. 
“No, not yet,” he whispers in return, expression soft and eyes tender. “I’m very happy where I am right now.” 
You inhale deeply through your nose, recalling when he spoke the same words so long ago. The exhale that shudders through your lungs is accompanied by the sound of Yeosang’s deep, honey-sweet voice. 
“I‘m happy here with you.” 
He finally has the courage to say it. 
You look away from Yeosang so he doesn’t see the water welling in your lone eye. The stroke of thanks you brush across his skin is enough to let him know what you mean. The swell of electricity zinging beneath your skin leaves you breathless and you lean into Yeosang’s legs to combat the shift in emotion. 
The healer hums sweetly in response, unable to look away from you. He examines you as you watch his partners, lifting his head when another uproar of laughter erupts when Hongjoong overpowers Wooyoung in whatever game they’re playing in the waves. 
But when you glance back at Yeosang shyly, you see it. 
You see the way he looks at you now. 
With stars in his gaze and affection glimmering in the shine of his irises, you see the way Yeosang’s features melt so sweetly as he watches you. He looks at you the way he looks at them; like he’s staring at his very heart and soul – like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather gaze upon than your face warmed by the flicker of roaring flames and your one eye finally staring back into his. No apprehension, this time. No fear or confusion or worry or an amalgamation of all of them together. You just… look back at him. 
Just like how he looks at you. 
When Seonghwa and Mingi rejoin the parade, kicking up salt water and spinning through the shallows, the boys cheer gleefully and begin to dance. It’s chaotic and a mess of stumbling and laughter, but it’s dancing nonetheless. The sound of their joy is infectious and spreads along the beach until it reaches you and Yeosang.
But he’s not listening to them. He’s listening to you. His ears are trained on the sound that erupts from his feet, bubbling from your lips in a noise he’s been praying to hear. 
Laughter. 
You’re laughing. 
There’s this bright, heart-stopping smile spread across your lips as you look up at Yeosang and listen to your family dance on the beach. Your shoulders shake softly with the movement of your laughter, and Yeosang can feel the vibrations of your chest pressed against his leg. It starts as a muffled giggle, barely concealed by your smile, but it deepens into a hearty laugh from deep in your belly. 
He cannot tear his eyes from you. 
You laugh. 
You laugh and you look up at him with stars in your eyes and his heart in your hands, and it takes every fiber of his strength not to lean forward and drown himself in the taste of your lips. It’s all he wants – all he needs, he swears it. One taste of your lips would sate him for life, even though he knows he’d never be able to tear himself away again. 
When you lean upwards, grabbing ahold of his fingers and pulling them towards you, Yeosang’s mouth parts to suck in a breath. 
You kiss his fingers. 
By the Gods, maybe that was a lie. One kiss would never be enough to sate him – there would never be enough of your touch or your kisses that could ever appease his soul. Even if he were immortal and your paths intertwined until the last of the stars burned from the sky, not even then would he have enough of you. 
You laugh again, grinning up at Yeosang with a toothy smile and the corner of your mouth digging into your mask. If he wasn’t already sitting, he swears he would drop to his knees at your side. 
He loves it – the sounds of your laughter. No matter how raw or croaked the sound is, he adores it. The sound of your voice once made his heart race with glee, but this… This is different. 
It’s so much more. 
This is joy. Unbridled and unashamed and so clearly you. It’s your laughter, your glee, your happiness that sinks beneath his sin and lights his nerves on fire. It’s your smile and your giggles that make his heart swell. Yeosang adores it. He adores you. 
He cannot help the way he slides off the driftwood log and into the sand at your side. Yeosang is pulling you into his chest before you can question his actions. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls your head into his neck, pressing you as tight to his chest as he possibly can. 
“You’re laughing…” he whispers as he huffs in disbelief. “Bug! You’re laughing!” 
The second time Yeosang utters the phrase, it’s shouted cheerfully as he squeezes you tight into his chest. His heart thumps brazenly beneath his ribs, and he can feel the pulse of yours against his own. You giggle again, wiggling to readjust yourself as you sink into the honey of his embrace. Yeosang’s heart trills excitedly again. 
Yunho’s head darts upwards from the beach, startled by Yeosang’s call. 
“What?” 
San hears Yunho’s whispered disbelief and stands from the surf, attention drawn over towards you and Yeosang. “What did he just say?” 
“It’s Bug,” Hongjoong answers, standing behind Yunho with his eyes blown wide. His heart stutters once in his chest as he takes in the sight of your shoulders shaking gently with your giggles. He can’t hear the sound of them, but Gods does he wish he could. “Bug’s laughing.” 
“Holy shit…” 
Yunho takes off from the beach without another word. He doesn’t even hear who curses.
Sand kicks up from his feet as he sprints towards you and Yeosang with his heart in his throat and a watery grin on his lips. He doesn’t even need to turn around to know that San is the one on his heels. Yunho knows the sound of San’s muffled sobs just as well as he knows the beat of his heart. Wooyoung is not far behind, a bubble of laughter leaving his lips and a chain missing from his wrist. Nothing binds him to that place anymore. You set him free. 
Hongjoong and Mingi chase after the others, and the Captain manages to get some revenge for the day before as he shoves his guard into the surf on the way. Hongjoong’s mirthful chuckles as Mingi shouts are heard when Jongho pulls Seonghwa behind him, urging the archer to move faster. 
“Bug!” 
Your head pulls from Yeosang’s neck, that toothy grin still on your face just as Yunho collides with you and the honey-haired healer. The two of you sway as Yunho’s weight sinks into your figures, but Yeosang sets an arm down into the sand to support you. The black and white strands of San and Wooyoung’s hair drip with salt water as they throw themselves onto Yunho’s lap with a shout. Mingi follows just after, likely having passed Hongjoong on the beach with the length of his strides. He shakes his wet hair as he clings onto Yunho’s back and Wooyoung complains despite the fact that he’s already soaking wet. The giggly sound of Mingi’s laughter makes you chuckle again.
You laugh, as if it’s as easy as breathing. 
Yeosang watches, his eyes welling with happy tears as he continues to cling onto you with one hand. He watches you giggle and the others pile into your space and listens to his new favorite sound. 
Gods, he adores you. He adores them – this family. 
Yunho is crying, his lip wobbling as he buries his head into your hair. He’s at your back, chest shaking with the sound of his watery sobs. 
“Tiny…” he cries, but it’s a happy weep. You reach around to cling onto one of his hands. Yunho squeezes you tight, stealing the air right from your lungs, but you don’t need it. You would happily breathe in the pure euphoria of this moment instead. “Tiny, you’re laughing.” 
San buries his wet hair into your lap with a joyful sound and the giggles commence again. The healer’s heart throbs so strongly but so pleasantly he thinks it will burst. You have a laugh that makes others laugh with you. Just like Wooyoung, he realizes. 
Your other hand drops from Yeosang’s back to brush through San’s hair once and the healer looks up at you with glimmering half-moon eyes and a dimple poking out of his cheek. You allow your finger to poke the sweet little spot this time. His cheek muscles ache from how big his smile is. San nuzzles closer to your stomach and you let yourself shiver pleasantly, far too happy to deny yourself the joy of this moment. 
You’re pretty, San thinks to himself. So pretty. Especially when you laugh. 
Wooyoung melts into Hongjoong’s side and the Captain wraps an arm around his shoulder. They stand just behind Yunho, burying their happy tears into each other as Seonghwa pulls them close. Mingi and Jongho sink into the sand behind Yunho and pull each other tight. The taller guard squeezes his eyes shut and presses his lips into Jongho’s forehead, desperately hoping all his adoration is conveyed through the kiss. Jongho reaches out to squeeze Yunho’s shoulder and rests his weight against his elder’s back. 
“I know,” you finally whisper into the space that separates you and Yunho. “I’m happy.” 
One hand lifts to pull the mask away from your face. Without a moment’s hesitation, your nimble fingers detangle the knot from behind you, and you drop the obsidian mask into the sand. A hand wraps around your fingers when you finally let it go. Someone draws a line along the length of your left ring finger and twines their fingers with your own. They squeeze three times. 
You repeat the gesture, tracing a finger down the fourth finger on their left hand, right over the thin, dark band you know is tattooed there. You squeeze their hand three times. This sign needs no translation. 
You open both eyes. 
“I’m so happy.” 
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bonus:
stranger: so who would you choose; ateez or–
reader: ateez.
stranger: you didn't even let me finish, ateez or–
reader, not missing a beat: ateez. I choose ateez.
a/n: This currently takes place sometime after the main storyline (probably xD) so it accounts for the boys knowing parts of Bug’s past (not revealed but it’s mentioned they know). For now, I won't consider these oneshots canon simply because I won’t know where it fits in the timeline HAHA xD this is essentially just a little bit of fluffy comfort for those who have been missing Bug and the boys! I’m catching up on their story but I hope you enjoy this filler for now <33 ALSO disclaimer, don’t pick stuff out of tide pools! my marine biologist family is screaming at me for including that xD just leave the creatures alone in their habitats!
sorry if bug seems a little ooc here! Loren and I have decided that bug goes from black cat energy to golden retriever after enough time with atz :’))) This is supposed to take place sometime in the future where she’s healed a little more and is a little more curious and open. There are a lot of references to things that have yet to happen in ltm so this is kind of a teaser for those xD 
also shoutout to the loml @eightmakesonebraincell for the majority of the ideas in this :D she's a real one xD
taglist: *If you don't see your name on this taglist, you may have been removed if your tag doesn't work :( let me know if you don't see your name and I'll try to see what we can do to fix it :D
@verseoks @smallfrye @istgcyj @rensunjun @flowrsforfun @justchaoticwhispers @gayliljoong @http-lovelyknow @kpopnightingale @rielleluvs @queentiti72 @paralumanniluna @chittaphonstar @dear-dreamie @bangtanxberm @havetaeminforbreakfast @knucklesdeepmingi @pingyu-in-wonderland @5sos-wdw @atzcoke @ddeonghwva @sophxom @khjcoo @sunukissed @becauseiloveyunho @atinymonbebestay @goldenstarmermaid @simplyaghostsworld @multifandomizer @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek @revehosh @mysticfire0435 @side-angel @taestrwbrry @billboard-singer @jenseok17 @parkthothwa8 @jcngh0-hq @dream-in-progress @dees-writing-corner @frankenstein852 @darkdayelixer @ateezkeepmysoul @maruskz @ahhhhhhhhhghh @honeyhotteoks @simeonswhore @jxxngieteez
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nova-amor · 6 months
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༘☁︎⋆ ◜ 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 ◞
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it wasn't a secret you found your best friend's dad attractive, you truly couldn't help it. simon riley was a retired british soldier; his thick arms decorated with intricate black and white tattoos and a faint stubble growing along his sharp jaw and cheeks, it would be a crime to say he wasn’t at least a little attractive.
you often found yourself staring at him— lustful eyes lingering over the sight of his sweat-glistening chest whenever he came back home from a late afternoon run, mind wandering to how soft his hair would feel in between your fingers, thighs squeezing together whenever you caught a whiff of his cologne. even with graduating college and beginning your career, you felt like a teenager all over again whenever you around simon for too long— your hormones going into a frenzy and lust clouding every single one of your thoughts.
it was shameless— absolutely disrespectful to both your friend and simon, but you just couldn't help yourself. simon was at least twenty years your senior and you wanted him. truly, desperately wanted him. and, one night, he finally made it obvious he wanted you too.
“has a boy ever made ya cum before?” simon inquired, his cheek resting upon one of your inner thighs, his fingers toying with your slit. he had been teasing you for what felt like forever, coaxing you into his room after he had found you raiding his kitchen for the millionth time. you were supposed to be having a sleepover with your best friend who was staying with simon while she was in town.
“it’d be like old times,” she had promised. old times definitely didn’t include you sleeping with her father after she had fallen asleep.
“i asked ya a question,” simon pulled his finger away, a whine leaving your lips at the lack of contact. he smirked, his eyes beaming as he watched you writhe and shake before him. “best t' answer it, little bird, if ya want t' get what ya want.”
“n-no, never,” you quipped, stammering over your words. your cunt throbbed as he pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, the circuits of your mind completely fried. “a-always faked it, they didn't even know where the clit was, had t' show them.”
simon faked a pout. “poor baby, ya never been with a real man then.” he teased, his fingers returning to the one spot you desperately needed him. calloused digits swirled around your sensitive nub— drawing loose circles and letters. a series of low moans escaped from you as he stimulated you, your eyes fluttering shut and jaw going slack as you fully succumbed to simon's touches.
“need ya t' be a good girl and be quiet f'me, okay, little bird? can you do that for me?” simon asked, dipping his fingers into your entrance. you nodded your head, cunt clenching around him as he stroked your squishy walls. “mmm... that's my good girl— g'na show ya how a real man should treat ya, little bird. doesn’t that sound nice?”
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