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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)

a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”

You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.

“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.

“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”

“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”

“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.

“Then what is this about?”

“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.

“Complaints?”

“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.

“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”

“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”

“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”

You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.

Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.

“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.

As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.

“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”

“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”

“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.

“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.

“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”

“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”

“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”

“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”

You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.

You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.

“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”

“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”

“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.

“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.

Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.

There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.

Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.

“This is her.”

“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”

“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.

“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.

“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”

“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.

“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”

“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.

“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”

“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”

“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.

“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”

You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.

“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.

“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”

“With who?”

“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”

Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.

“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”

“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.

“Well, I guess I’ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.

“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.

“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.

Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.

Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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dilly-oh · 3 years

Text

The Office War

Kakashi had been stealing his pens again, Iruka was certain of it. His particular favorite was sitting right there out in the open on that bastard's desk, the orange one with the ugly troll cap that'd been a present from Naruto, as well as several others he'd bought at his own personal expense because the quality of pens the company provided for employees was a damn joke. Iruka had standards.

Those are my fucking pens, douche-bag, Iruka thought as he sat at his desk, seething with righteous fury. Get your own.

He could see the smarmy asshole's hair poking up out of his cubicle, gray and spikey and in desperate need of brushing. As he watched, his computer chair tipped back and Kakashi came into view, lazy-eyed and tapping one of Iruka's own pens against his weird medical face-mask in thought.

Just let it go, Iruka told himself before he could get truly riled up. He didn't need another talk with HR after the incident with Genma eating his lunches. That had gotten pretty out of hand - there had almost been a lawsuit involved. It's just a few pens, right? Nothing to start a fight over. It's not a big deal.

And then Kakashi poked the pen under his mask and started chewing.

That did it.

Time to confront the bastard. With passive-aggressive guilt-tripping.

Iruka stood up from his cubicle and sauntered over as nonchalantly as possible.

“Hey, Kakashi. What's up?” he greeted. Kakashi gave a distracted grunt in reply, eyes glued to his computer screen. “Sorry, can I borrow a pen?” Iruka went on, baring his teeth in challenge more than smiling. “Mine seem to be...missing.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, sure,” Kakashi said, immediately handing him the one from his mouth, covered in teeth-marks and spit. Iruka recoiled in disgust.

“Maybe...not that one. How about...that one?” He pointed to the orange one on his desk. Kakashi shrugged and handed it over. Iruka's eyes narrowed. Time to go in for the kill. “Wow. This pen is really nice. Where did you get it?”

“Dunno.” Kakashi shrugged again. “Picked it up somewhere.”

Okay, screw passive-aggressive. Time for full-on confrontational.

“Okay, cut the shit!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Those pens are mine! Give them back!” He reached over and quickly snatched them up, hugging them protectively to his chest. “And...” He paused, eyes raking over Kakashi's sloppy work station. “Is that my stapler?”

“Oh, is it?” Kakashi said innocently.

“Yes it is!” Iruka snatched it away as well. “What else of mine do you have?”

“Just some papers and binders and stuff. Oh, and I borrowed your pencil sharpener last week but it crapped out after sharpening my hundredth pencil-”

“That was YOU?!”

“I needed them for a seminar.”

“That thing cost like thirty bucks!”

“I thought you wouldn't mind,” Kakashi said simply.

“Normally, no, I wouldn't, but YOU take things and KEEP them. That I mind. Plus you don't even have the common courtesy to ASK first.” Iruka turned away with a huff. “Don't touch my shit again.”

And with that, he stomped back to his desk, arms full of his reclaimed supplies.

That'll teach him.

---

Apparently, it did not.

The next day, all of Iruka's paperclips were missing. He spotted them on Kakashi's desk, bent into abstract shapes. Mostly dicks.

That son of a bitch.

This called for war.

---

After an entire weekend of planning, Iruka was ready.

On Monday, he took a screwdriver to Kakashi's computer chair, subtly loosening the screws at the base of the seat so it would break when tipped back at a lazy angle. He heard the crash from the break-room and almost choked on his granola bar laughing.

On Tuesday, he drained half of Kakashi's pens of ink and rigged the other half to explode, splattering everywhere when used. All of Kakashi's reports that day were sent back and he had to stay an extra hour just to re-sign everything.

On Wednesday, he jammed the copy machine. Kakashi, the procrastinating prick, wasn't able to print out the dozen or so information pamphlets he needed five minutes before the important presentation. The meeting was rescheduled for the following day, much to everyone's irritation, most of all Kakashi's, who prided himself on his copying skills.

On Thursday, he stole every single staple in the office. Kakashi, who had finally managed to print the copies for the presentation, was forced to tape all of the papers together. The strange looks he got from the others as he passed them out was well worth the effort.

On Friday, he sabotaged Kakashi's coffee cup to spring a leak when he took a sip. Iruka heard him curse from across the room and looked up to see a satisfying amount of hot coffee had spilled all over Kakashi's shirt and face mask. Hissing in pain, he stood and stomped to the nearest bathroom. Iruka couldn't resist following the other man inside for a victory gloat.

“So...” Iruka said smugly, joining Kakashi at the sink where he was attempting to dab the stain away with wet paper-towels, “had enough?”

“Of what?” Kakashi asked distractedly. “Coffee?”

“ME, you idiot! It was all me!” Iruka exploded. “Your chair, the copy machine, your coffee! All ME! Are you ready to admit defeat yet? Have you been thoroughly chastened?”

“Well, I'm mildly annoyed, if that counts,” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “I can't believe you went to all that trouble. You should put that effort into your work.”

“I should put more effort into my work?! You're the one sneaking naps in your cubicle!!” Iruka sputtered furiously, his face burning with rage, then cut off as Kakashi reached up and removed his mask and his face started burning for an entirely different reason.

Oh, shit.

Kakashi was hot. Kakashi was really hot. Kakashi was hot enough Iruka wanted to go to HR and lodge a complaint – He's too fucking hot. It's not fair. Fire his ass.

This changes nothing, Iruka told himself as he broke into a sweat. He's still an asshole, he still deserved it all, the stupid son of a-

“Damn. It's not coming out.” With an annoyed tsk, Kakashi smoothly removed his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and stripped it off, his shoulders and chest rolling obscenely with the motion. Iruka's mouth went dry.

...This may have backfired, he thought, eyes glued to the slope of Kakashi's back as he bent over the sink, scrubbing at the stain.

“I...have to go,” Iruka said blankly.

“Well you came to the right place,” Kakashi replied, focused on his work.

“No. I mean. Leave. I have to leave. Like right now.” Iruka slowly backed up, hit the wall, then slithered along it til he found the door, desperately snatching at the handle, his eyes still riveted by Kakashi's sculpted chest.

“You're leaving early?” Kakashi glanced up at him. “Aren't you out of earned time?”

“Just take it out of my paycheck gotta go bye,” Iruka blurted before finally wrestling the door open and tumbling out into the hallway, shoving past a confused intern as he bolted towards the exit.

---

The sight of Kakashi shirtless haunted Iruka all weekend long.

He considered calling in sick on Monday, but didn't because Kakashi was indeed correct – he had no more sick leave left after Naruto gave him food poisoning for his birthday by being cheap and trying to bake a cake.

Also, he wasn't a coward.

So, come Monday morning, he marched right back into the office at 8 A.M on the dot, rode the elevator with his head down, pointedly ignoring everyone while also on the lookout for a certain silver-haired individual, and walked straight to his desk.

Which was covered in a stunning array of brand-new office supplies. Pens, mechanical pencils, highlighters, large and small paperclips, all sitting there still wrapped in plastic with that new-store smell. Iruka almost burst into tears at the sight.

“Whose dick did you suck to get all those?” Izumo whispered, his voice thick with jealousy.

“No-one's!” Iruka snapped at him as he sat down, mystified. He tentatively picked up a box of pens, delighted to see they came in a variety of colors.

“Do you like them?” Kakashi asked, leaning in over his shoulder. “I was gonna get flowers, but I figured you'd appreciate these more.”

“Kakashi!” Iruka bolted up out of his chair like he'd been shocked. Which, frankly, he had been. “Wait. You did this?” He gaped at the other man in disbelief, then his stomach dropped like a weight. Oh, God, of course this wasn't real. It was too good to be true. The supplies were probably all fake, rigged to break or explode or-

“It was the least I could do to apologize.”

“...Apologize?” Iruka blinked. “Why?”

“Some kid came by looking for you on Friday, after you left,” Kakashi went on, scratching at his face mask in an almost nervous gesture. “Seemed real upset about an orange pen missing from your desk. Said it was a present from him. And, well...I connected the dots.” He nodded towards Iruka's desk, where Naruto's gag “Worst Big Brother Ever” mug sat in its place of honor beside his monitor. “I'm sorry. I didn't know that pen meant so much to you.” He dropped his gaze in shame. “I shouldn't have taken it. Or any of your other stuff, for that matter.”

“It...it's alright, Kakashi,” Iruka said quietly, looking at him in a whole new light. Perhaps he should reevaluate his opinion of the other man. Sure, he was a lazy, procrastinating jerk sometimes, but he seemed to have a good heart. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. “And...thank you for the supplies, they're very appreciated, but honestly, there was no need to trouble yourself-”

“Want me to take my shirt off again?”

And maybe he was just an asshole.

Kakashi smirked down at him, and Iruka could imagine how, under the mask, it pulled at the stupid beauty mark on the side of his mouth.

...A really, really hot asshole.

“...Yeah alright.”

(Written for @kakairu-fest Kakairu Month 2021, Day Six Prompt: Office AU)

#kakairu #KakaIru Month 2021 #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #naruto #office au #don't fuck with Iruka's office supplies #he will cut a bitch

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libsterslobsters · 3 years

Text

The Wanton Song

Summary: How do you broach the topic of sex with the 90-something super soldier you've found yourself dating? That's the reader's question. Luckily, she and Bucky are no strangers to awkward conversations...

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions and understands all languages)

Warnings: SMUT, tiny bit of angst, lotsa fluff, maybe some past dub!con if you squint

Author's note: Wow... here I am posting smut on the internet. Never thought that would happen. Tmi, but I'm married, so I have a good amount of sex 🙀 and I actually had a great first time, but some people don't, and that's what I tried to represent. That, and CONSENT!!!! Consent is sexy, y'all. Safe, sane and consensual all day every day.

As always, the reader's name isn't stated so that you can read as a self insert, but I've written so much at this point that I refer to the Reader as Violet in my own mind.

*************************************************

Life has been going swimmingly these past few months. Better than ever before in fact, or at the very least, better than in a long time. She’s still a fugitive, living life looking over her shoulder, but now she has a steady job, a steady paycheck, and oh yeah, a steady boyfriend. Those three things have never aligned for her before (especially the last one). Overall, she’s pretty happy. But, because she’s her, there’s still a question niggling at the back of her mind.

The transition from “you’re my only friend” to “we’re together now” went smoothly, helped in part by the fact that Barnes had been at that particular juncture the whole time. From the outside looking in, the only major changes have been the addition of those three simple but very key words and an upping the anti in the cuddles department.

Speaking of cuddles, that’s a very mild term for what’s going on these days. It starts out innocent enough. The usual location is on the couch at one or the other’s apartment. There hadn’t been much distance between them since that first time where they ended up talking more than watching the movie playing from her laptop, but now, the space is nonexistent. As a general rule, within the first ten minutes, her legs somehow end up over his lap or in some way intertwined with is. The intention is always to pay attention to what’s on the screen but, well, when you’re that close, it would be rude not to snuggle up. And, when the other person looks that damn kissable, it would truly be insulting not to take the plunge.

Now, considering the angle, one of them has to lean in. Otherwise, it would be awkward. That generally determines who, somewhere from two to ten minutes later, is on top of who. Of course hands wander, and even though it’s understood that the word “no” can be employed at any time and immediately obeyed (not to mention the copious amounts of “Is this okay”’s being asked), she can’t remember a time either of them have said it.

If she had to attach a term to what comes next, it would be ‘dry humping.’ And then… nothing. It always ends far too soon, leaving her flustered and with her heart racing. At first she thought it was because he simply didn’t want her, but, well, there’s certain physical signs that point to that not being the problem. Her next guess was that he’s simply being respectful. Well, as sweet as that is, she’s ready to get on with it. She’s only human after all, and as such, has needs. Sure, she could take care of them herself, but if she had to guess, he’s experiencing those needs too, and from what she’s heard, it’s more fun to take care of it together.

The only issue: how the hell do you bring something like this up, especially when the person you’re bringing it up with grew up in a much more repressed era than you did? She’s been debating it for the past week, and despite having multiple visions, none of them have given her that key insight into what to do.

Finally, she decides to just say it. They’ve made a point to be honest with each other, and it’s probably best to get it out of the way. They’re adults, after all. They can have this discussion. She’s going to come straight out with it.

“Hey, can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal, and maybe a little uncomfortable.”

“Sure, Doll.” The response is immediate. “Fire away.”

Glancing up to make sure they’re not at a pivotal scene in tonight’s movie (they have a system; at his place, watch something he grew up with, at hers, something made literally anytime after 1945), she spits out the whole sentence in one breathless go. “Are we ever going to have sex?”

It feels like a branding iron where his arm is still wrapped around her shoulder. Still, it’s comforting. At least he’s not moving away.

“I gotta admit, that’s not the question I was expecting. What brought this on?”

She shrugs, carefully keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind his head instead of on him.

“Nothing in particular. Just…” is there a delicate way to put this? “...I think things are going well between us, and sometimes when we’re together… I’ve noticed that there’s a physical response.” She’s really hoping that’ll suffice, because she can’t think of a good way to say “I can feel that you’re hard when you’re on top of me”.

“Oh.”

Apparently, her meaning is indeed clear enough, because he removes his arm from her shoulders. She’s about to apologize (all the while mentally berating herself) when his hand closes over hers.

“I’m sorry about that, Doll. I’ll try to stay calmer.” Wait, that’s not- “It’s just an issue guys have. Don’t think it means you have to do anything that you don’t want to, because I would never-”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Without thinking, she cuts him off. “And I want to.” It feels like she’s sitting in a sauna, she’s so flustered from this conversation. “But only if you do, and I understand if you didn’t-”

“No.” It’s abrupt, cutting her off. A definite answer that leaves no room for questioning. “No, I do. I just-” He clears his throat. “-I didn’t want to bring it up, in case we weren’t on the same page. “ This seems to be a recurring theme, so far. “And it’s not a must. If you change your mind-”

It’s pure instinct. There’s no thought involved as she closes the gap between them, this time with her on top, and presses her lips against his. The response is immediate and enthusiastic. She considers just going on, not putting a stop to things, but realization hits that, although overall she’s ready for this to happen, she’s not ready for it to happen tonight. There’s still things she needs to take care of. Most importantly, protection.

So, gasping for breath, she pulls away. “I’m calling for a rain check, but if after that, you still think I’ll change my mind-” she pushes back her hair and forces herself to take a deep breath. “-then you may just be beyond help, Barnes.” If the chuckle is anything to judge from, she’s made her point.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Wow. Bucky thinks to himself as he exits out of the browser tab on his phone. That’s enough internet for one day. Too much, actually. He knows that it’s the information superhighway, but good god, no one needs THAT much information. He really needs to be more specific with what he googles… or less… or just not at all.

He’d never admit it (and really, who the hell is gonna ask him anyway), but he spent the last hour looking up how to have sex. He’s engaged in the act before, yeah, but it was seventy years ago. Plus, it used to be this huge taboo thing that you suspected was going on behind closed doors, but no one (not even the married couples) owned up to it. If you were ever found out, there were severe consequences. As a man, he didn’t have to worry as much, but if whoever the woman was had her dirty laundry aired… oh boy. She’d be a pariah, a “scarlet woman”, unfit for marriage or to even give the time of day. That led to limited encounters, and, well, it just seemed smart to brush up on what information is out there. As it turns out, people have written a lot about the fine art of love making. Unfortunately for him, most of it is absolute garbage. Some of the positions he just read about (because at that point, the article was like a train wreck; he badly wanted to look away, but he couldn’t) don’t even sound possible, much less pleasurable. He’s all for society being freer, but good grief!

He’s halfway through a bottle of straight vodka (it won’t have any effect, but he’s hoping maybe the alcohol will travel to his brain and sanitize his eyeballs from most of the shit he just read) when his phone rings. Great. He’s always happy to talk to her, but right now… wow. It’s gonna take him some time to recover, so he hopes she doesn’t need him to say much.

“Hey, Doll.”

“I am so fucking pissed off right now.” That sounds promising.

“At what?”

“The city of Bucharest, my apartment, the landlord, whoever the fuck did the plumbing in this building! God!” She’s clearly out of breath, so it takes a minute before she can speak again. “I’m sorry, Buck. It’s just that I came home from work, and one of my neighbors told me the entire sixth floor is under a good inch, inch and a half of water.” Wait-

“How-”

“I don’t know. Busted pipe. It’s leaked down onto the fifth floor, so I’ve got about fifty other pissed off people for company.”

“Jesus.”

She chuckles harshly. “Yeah, we could use him right about now to perform a miracle. This is a shit show, and I haven’t even told you the best part.”

“So the spontaneous flood wasn’t the highlight of your day?”

“I fucking wish! So, naturally, I tried to call the landlord, along with basically everyone else. Get this: since it’s after five o’clock on a Friday, he’s not gonna do anything. Told us collectively to suck it up! And of course, when there’s a leak, they have to cut the power…” He’s starting to see a pattern here.

She sighs. “I really needed to get that off my chest. How are you?” Still slightly weirded out by the information overload, but feeling a little more steady now that he’s got a good catastrophe to concentrate on. However, that’s probably not the best answer to go with.

“Better than you are.”

“What, the sky isn’t falling where you are?” He chuckles.

“No, it’s right where it’s supposed to be.” Which reminds him… “But since it seems like you’re short a functional home, why don’t you just stay here until they sort things out?” He’s got a couch that, while it doesn’t have anything on an actual bed, he can manage to sleep on for the next few nights. Or maybe they can share his bed. He shakes his head. That thought needs to be put to the side, even if it’s meant in the most innocent way possible. Of course, in case she decides to cash in that rain check…

“Yes. I mean, that would be great, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” Actually, he can’t think of a better way to spend the weekend. The plan was to meet up either Saturday or Sunday, possibly both, so this isn’t that far out of the ordinary.

“Okay, but just a warning: They’re not letting us go up to our floor in case there’s been electrical damage as well-” That’s smart. If the pipes are in that bad of condition, who knows what the wiring looks like. “-so all I have is my purse, backpack, and what I wore to work. No toothbrush or pajamas, or anything like that.”

“That’s alright. All you have to bring is yourself.” He’ll have to look, but he’s pretty sure he has something in his closet that’ll work okay for her until she gets the all clear to go into her apartment. Plus, there’s a laundry mat just around the corner, not to mention a pharmacy.

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Not a problem.” He glances at his bedside clock. Five thirty-four. It takes roughly half an hour to get across the city by bus, so… “I’ll see you around six fifteen?”

“See you then.”

As soon as the line goes dead, he springs into action. First thing’s first: make sure there’s no dirty clothes, old dishes, or trash laying around. That takes all of five minutes. He should probably check that he does indeed have something she can wear so they won’t have to fumble around later. Tshirts are pretty universal and… yes, he has a few pajama bottoms that have a drawstring waist. How much time does he have left? The phone screen lights up, giving him his answer. Twenty-seven minutes. More than enough time to run around the corner and pick up a few things.

His intention is to buy the basics: spare toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush, maybe a different shampoo than his three-in-one body wash (it’s convenient for him, but she might prefer something designated for hair specifically). But, well, there’s quite a few aisles, and he gets sucked in. Does he need to buy razors, or is that rude, like he thinks she’s hairy? What about aspirin? How often do most people get headaches? He honestly can’t remember.

By the time he realizes that he really needs to get a move on, his basket is full and he has no idea what aisle he’s on. Desperately, he looks around, and his eyes land on… huh. So they just have them out in the open these days. Last time he was in the market for that, he had to beg a married friend to make the purchase for him. He briefly wonders if he’ll need to produce proof of marriage or something similar, but pushes the thought to the side. It’s the 2000s. He can probably just go up to the register and pay, and no one will give him a second look. But there’s just one problem: which brand? He should google… suddenly remembering his adventure from earlier today, he decides to just go with his gut and pick one. There. Now, he needs to pay and get the fuck out of here because there’s only ten minutes left, and he’d rather not have these out in the open, in case she thinks that’s the reason he’s asked her to stay over. If it happens, great. If not… well, he’s made it for the past seventy years. What’s a few more?

___________________________________________________________________________________

She was still pretty shaken up when she arrived at his apartment, carrying her backpack and purse, slightly damp from the drizzle of rain now covering the city. But immediately receiving a long hug, being instructed to make herself at home, and hearing the offer to take a shower so she could warm up did a lot to restore her good mood.

It was one of the sweetest thing she’s ever experienced in a lifetime where most people have showed her their worst, going into that bathroom and finding a new toothbrush, stick of deodorant, nail clippers, hairbrush, and even shampoo. That and Barnes bashfully informing her that, “I’ll stay in the living room until you’re done. Take your time.” She almost suggested that he just join her in an attempt to broach the subject they left off on two nights ago, but thought better of it. She’s just started to strip when a knock comes from the other side of the wall.

“Sorry. I just remembered that I forgot to give you a change of clothes. Can I leave them outside the door?” A smile forms on her face.

“Sure. Go ahead.” No one’s given this much thought to her comfort or boundaries before. Yet another reason she knows this is the right decision.

She doesn’t stay in the shower for long, just enough time to wash and stop shivering. After toweling off and brushing out her hair, she cracks open the door. Sure enough, a worn but clean tshirt and pair of pajama bottoms are waiting for her. The familiar scent of the laundry detergent he uses envelopes her as she dresses and, at long last, leaves the safety of the bathroom.

True to his word, he’s still sitting on the couch, thumbing through a book she gave him some months back (he’s missed so many feats of literature that have made their way into pop culture; today’s choice is The Hobbit because, while it was out before everything happened to him, he’s never read it) when she emerges. Just in case he’s so absorbed that he hasn’t heard her, she repeats his gesture from earlier and knocks softly on the wall.

“Hey. I’m out. You can have your apartment back.”

“Hey.” That smile always makes her feel slightly unsteady on her feet. “Find everything okay?”

“I did.” She settles into the place next to him. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to go out and get supplies.”

“I know.” He nods, hand closing around hers. “But I wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed.”

They chat for a while about their days, discuss what they should do with the weekend ahead, even throw out ideas for dinner. The entire time, she’s trying to figure out the best way to bring up that she’d really like to finish what they started the other night. However, by the time he’s left to grab some sort of takeout, she’s still no closer to an answer.

Fortunately, their dates usually follow a pattern. Food, a movie, and then the not-so-innocent cuddles. This time, he’s on top of her when she feels the tell-tale sign that he’s as fired up as she is, so she suggests,

“Do want to maybe move to somewhere more comfortable?” His already dilated pupils grow even larger, and he nods.

“Yeah. That sounds like a plan.” She waits for him to roll off of her and head towards the bedroom before she grabs her purse and, digging around inside, grabs one of the foil packages she bought after their last date.

It’s only once she closes the door behind her, shutting them into an enclosed space with a bed (not to mention it’s pretty damn clear what both of their intentions are), that nerves get the better of her. He takes a step towards her, and she leans up to kiss him, but he ducks his head out of the way.

“You’re shaking.” His hand ghosts over her arm, making it obvious that, by comparison, she’s practically vibrating on the spot.

“Sorry.” She chuckles nervously. “It’ll pass.”

“It’s alright.” As he says it, he meets her eyes. “We can stop. Nothing has to happen.”

“I know.” She nods, swallowing hard. “But I want it to.” Their lips briefly meet before he pulls away again.

“Let me ask you, just before we get started, is this-” He stops short, eyes darting from her face to the wall and back again. “...have you… before?” Oh. “Not that it matters, not to me, I just wanted to know so that-”

“I have.” She nods, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “Once. I was eighteen, and-” It was awful. She’d been seeing the guy for a few months and he kept whining about her not putting out, so she decided to get it over with. He went in dry without any warning, and when she asked him to stop, give her a second to adjust, he told her he couldn’t. She was bleeding and in pain for days afterwards, and to top it off, when her period was late, she thought that, even though he’d pulled out, she was pregnant. That turned out not to be the case, but it, along with the fact that she usually doesn’t stay in one place for very long, has put a damper on her ever wanting to do that again. Except for now. “-it wasn’t a great experience.”

“I’m sorry.” On instinct, she searches for the judgment in his face, the disgust. It’s nowhere to be found, only genuine sympathy. “I’ll do my best to make sure this time is better. That is, if you’re still up to it.”

“I am.” Not waiting for a reply, she wraps her arms around him and starts trailing kisses up his neck towards his ear. “I am. I trust you.” She hears his breath catch, but before she can comment, he’s hoisted her up and is carrying her in the direction of the bed.

As he sets her down, she pulls him on top of her, letting her hands wander over his sides, up his back. After a few moments, she feels his fingers move from her hips to toy with the hem of her… his.. shirt.

“Is this okay? Can I take this off?” She starts to nod, but remembers just in time that he’s so close, they’d butt heads.

“Please.” She expected to feel exposed once she was at least partially undressed, but instead she feels… adored. His eyes are roaming over her newly exposed skin, though his hands have respectfully returned to her waist. In a moment of confidence, she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. There. Now she’s completely shirtless.

“You’re so beautiful.” The flush from her cheeks is spreading down her neck, but she still smiles.

“Care to make things even?” It’s brief, but she catches the look of hesitation.

“Sure.” Before she can offer to do it, he shrugs his shirt over his head, revealing to her, for the first time, the entirity of his metal arm. She must look for a moment too long, because with a shrug, he informs her, “I can put my shirt back on. No big deal. I know there’s some scarring…” That’s not going to fly. She needs to reassure him, make him feel as desired as he’s made her feel.

“Or if you want to stop-” She stands and, after briefly making eye contact, places a kiss on the most prominent scar.

“Don’t you dare think that way for a second.” They’re flush against each other, chest to bare chest. “Not for one.” Slowly, she slides her hands from his shoulders down to his waist, hesitating just over the button. “Is this okay?” Another shakey breath.

“Yes.”

Going forward, it’s much less awkward. The rest of their clothing is shed, and soon they’re back to their previous position; on the bed, with him on top of her. She feels his fingertips brush the inside of her thigh and gasps.

“May I touch you?” She nods.

“You’d better.”

It’s gentle, more of him feeling her out than anything else. Still, she can’t help but think this is infinitely better already than last time around. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away, and it takes all her effort not to whine at the loss of contact. Before she can ask if something’s wrong, does he want to stop, he’s flat on his stomach, head between her legs.

“Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“What-” Her breath catches as it becomes infinitely clear what he’s doing.

Again, she’s expecting pain when, after several minutes he eases a finger into her, but at this point, she’s so wet that there’s absolutely no difficulty.

“Are you okay?” She nods.

“Don’t stop.”

The process is agonizingly slow, he’s so intent on his task. When, finally, he pulls away, she’s so close that she can almost taste it.

“Do you still want to-”

“If you don’t stop asking me that, I’m gonna slap you.” It’s a joke, and she thinks he knows it, but just to be sure, she siezes his hand (the metal one, which is usually cold but has now warmed from being held close against her body. “I’m ready, so long as you want this too.”

“I do. You wouldn’t believe how much.” Yeah, she thinks she would. “Just give me a second.” Perfect timing. He rolls off of her, which gives her the opening she needs to grab the packet she managed to hide under the pillow while he was… otherwise distracted. When he returns from digging inside the wardrobe, she holds it up, only to realize-

“Oh.” He’s got one as well. “Seems like we both came prepared.”

He chuckles. “Just in case, although that wasn’t why I asked you to stay.”

“I know.” She nods and pats the space next to her. “Not why I said yes either, although I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

He returns to the bed and drops his packet onto the nightstand. “Save this one for later?”

“Definitely.”

There is a bit of discomfort once he starts to push inside her, but it’s not painful. Just… overwhelming. Slightly embarassed she asks,

“Can you wait a second? Please?”

“Of course. Are you alright?” She shifts her hips slightly, making them both groan.

“Fine. You can move now.”

She may have only done this once before, and she has no idea what his experience consists of, but as she hits her peak mere seconds before he does, gently coaxed over the edge, she can’t help but think some things are better the second time around.

“I love you.” It’s whispered against her neck as, once she cleans up and returns to bed, she settles herself against him.

“I love you too.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

The first thing he thinks when he realizes that he’s not alone in bed is that HYDRA’s found him. He’s being activated. His eyes shoot open although apart from that he doesn’t move a muscle, and that’s when he recognizes the person next to him. It’s her. She’s here.

The events of last night come back to him all at once, and he feels a smile forming on his face. It’s been a while, and in any case, it would be wrong to run a comparison, but what they shared, the pure intimacy of it both physically and mentally was incredible. Maybe he should feel a sense of shame. That’s what he was taught growing up. But instead he feels… peaceful.

That is, until her eyelids flutter and she rolls over, shifting the covers so that he gets a good view of her still naked body, and with it, the bruises on her thighs and hips. Bruises unmistakably left by his fingers. Dammit. He’s done the last thing he ever wanted to do: he’s hurt her.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” She yawns, the teasing words muffled. “It seems like we overslept.”

His mouth goes dry, and all he can manage to choke out is a simple, “Yeah.”

She frowns, sitting up slightly, and lets out a small groan. “You alright there, Bucky? You look a little off.” The late morning light only serves to highlight more marks he’s left, this time on her shoulders, neck, and breasts. Stubble burn. Hickeys. Why the hell was he so rough? At the time, he thought he was being gentle, but obviously he’s just as much of a monster as Bucky Barnes as he is once the Winter Soldier takes over.

She’s still staring at him, brow furrowing in concern.

“Fine.” He clears his throat and begins to sit up. “Stay here. I’ll make you a cup of tea, maybe some oatmeal.”

“Alright. Don’t be gone too long.”

Her words follow him out of the room, and into the kitchen. Fuck. He should’ve known better.

Maybe once upon a time, he was a decent man, one who could be with a woman like her and not do her a disservice. But now, it’s clear that he falls short in every way. In an act that was supposed to be pure pleasure, a way of communicating how much they mean to each other, he’s hurt her.

“I trust you.” The words from last night ring in his ears. He shouldn’t have let her. It’s pretty damn obvious that, even at the best of times, he can’t be trusted.

“Tell me what’s going on.” Even with his enhanced senses, he still jumps in surprise as the unexpected words come from behind him. He turns around slowly, not wanting to startle her. She’s standing there, clad in only one of his shirts, arms crossed over her chest (now bearing his marks), staring him down.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head.

“Bullshit. I had a vision of you staring off into space, and here you are, jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” At another time, her choice in phrases would make him chuckle, but right now, he can’t muster it.

“Last night-” Her eyes widen, but she stays silent. “I hurt you.”

“No, you didn’t. Not at all.”

“I did.”

She frowns. “Bucky, I think I’d know if you’d hurt me, and I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

“Doll, look at yourself!” He reaches out to take her arm, but immediately freezes. “Go in the bathroom and take off your shirt. Take a good look in the mirror and then tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“Alright.” Her jaw clenches, and she marches off in the direction of the bathroom. A deep sickness gnaws at the pit of his stomach and, completely worn out, he sinks into a kitchen chair.

Not thirty seconds pass before she walks back into the room, this time completely undressed.

“Tell me you’re not talking about a few love bites.”

“And bruises! You may not have noticed, but they’re in the exact shape of my fingertips.”

“Oh my god!” She shakes her head. “It’s a sex injury. A minor one at that! If you didn’t heal so damn fast, you’d probably have nail marks all over your back!”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“How is it not the same thing?”

“I’m a monster! And you’re not.”

She takes a determined step towards him, and he leans as far back as the chair will allow.

“Bucky, you are not a monster, and I am not afraid of you.”

“Then you’re stupid.” He hates himself for his sharp words, but she needs to take this seriously. Underestimating how dark, how evil he can be, is a mistake. A deadly one.

“Hey!”

“Don’t you get it?” Without any input from his brain, he stands. “They could find me, and with a few words, I could stare you dead in the eyes as I murdered you! If you were my mission, I wouldn’t even hesitate, and you’d be dead before your body hit the floor!” Her mouth falls open, but she immediately closes it again. “This isn’t something that can be worked through with some patience and a positive attitude! I could kill you!”

“So could a million other things!” Her voice rises in volume, and before he can contain it-

“But they’re not in the bed sleeping next to you!” He’s shouting at her. God. Everyone is right. He’s beyond saving.

A few tense seconds pass before she looks up at him, a steely look in her eyes.

“Look, I get it. I know what you could do to me.” As she speaks, she pulls out a chair and sits. “But I could also get run over when I cross the road, or the room could fill with carbon monoxide while I sleep. I could have an aneurysm and drop before anyone knows what’s happening.”

He opens his mouth to tell her the likelihood of any of those things happening is far lower than the chance that he’ll hurt her, this time in a major way, but she holds up a hand, silencing him.

“I’m gonna be cautious, but I’m also not going to live my life in fear that the ceiling is going to collapse or nuclear war is going to strike, or that someone is gonna turn up and say the magic words that make you go cuckoo for cocoa puffs-” What? “-and I just realized you’re too old for that reference.”

“That’s another thing-” He’s about to remind her exactly how big their age gap is, that although he’s physically close to her age, chronologically, he’s closer to the age of her great grandfather, but she lets out a sudden groan of frustration, and that makes him bite his tongue.

“Oh, fuck off, Barnes! If you’re about to start in on how you’re too old for me, then I’m not gonna wait for you to go full Winter Soldier before I kick your ass!” Out of all things, that’s what snaps him out of it, makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance they can make the best of things.

Smirking, he asks her,

“You think you could kick my ass? Really?” It must be the breaking point for her too, because she snickers.

“Of course. It’s the little bitches you have to watch out for.” That’s it, he’s laughing, nearly doubled over, and from the looks of things, she’s in much the same state.

“You’re something else, you know that?” He asks between stilted breaths.

“I think we both fit in that category, Pal.” Her smile fades, but only slightly. “Bucky, if you really want me to go, if that’s what’ll give you peace, then I’ll do it, but I meant what I said. I trust you.” Never. He’ll never want her to go, he’s sure of it. Well then, that only leaves one option.

“I know what we’re doing today.” It’s an abrupt segue, but it’s the only thing he could come up with on short notice.

“And what’s that?” The microwave dings, reminding him that he needs to stir the oatmeal, and he pushes past her.

“Sit down and have your tea. You’re going to need all your energy if I’m gonna show you how to use a gun.” If she’s staying, then at least he can teach her how to defend herself beyond the basics she already knows.

“So I guess this means you’re keeping me around for a little while longer?” It’s spoken like a joke, but he turns to her, meeting her eyes to drive the point home.

“Yeah, Doll. As long as you want me."

#marvel #captain america #the winter soldier #bucky fanfic #fanfiction #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #pre civil war

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goodgirlsfanficawards · 3 years

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The theme of this WIP Wednesday is Angst! We’re kicking off with five current WIPs that will hurt your feelings.

Three Bullets by agoodgirl

3 Aug 2020, E, 3.2K, 2/4 chapters, 41 kudos

'I'm... I'm sor-' she gets cut off by Rio turning around and giving her the look of death. He starts to walk up to her setting the paper on the table.

Now their chest are almost touching. Rio is looking down on her. His eyes were black and she missed it when he would grin at her.

She tried again. 'Rio... I'm sorry'

He sighs. 'You don't get to be sorry, Elizabeth' spitting the words with so much anger it almost made her flinch.

'It was an accident, I didn't mean for it to happen, I couldn't kill him and I especially didn't mean to shoot you, you know that'. She started to explain kepts getting closer to her. Her lower back reaches tables edge

He has her cornered. His features soften and he laughed.

'Three bullets is not an accident, leaving me to die is also not an accident, you wanted to be King right, so you killed the King'.

swear on a silver knife by ms_scarlet / @mego42

15 Dec 2020, E, 15.6K, 1/7 chapters, 88 kudos

But apparently, Fitzpatrick had only been avoiding Beth, because here he is, in this bar, looking at her expectantly like they’d had plans to meet, and this isn’t a freak coincidence while she’s—

Beth’s entire body goes cold as the reality of the circumstances hits her, and she can practically feel the blood drain from her face.

“Now?” she whispers, her lips numb, searching his person for anything that looks like it could be a hidden weapon, but the simple slacks, sweater, and leather jacket thrown over top give nothing away. Not that that means anything, she’s never seen evidence of a gun before Rio produced one either, and oh God—

She’s suddenly grateful for all of the practice she’s had not acknowledging the corner booth throughout the night because even though her body goes entirely rigid, it’s still all she can do to keep from checking to see if Rio’s looking. Panic and fear rise like bile in her throat as she’s suddenly seized by the completely irrational conviction that if he looks over, if he sees them, he’ll somehow know, and if he knows, then he’ll—he’ll—

He’ll what? Escape? Kill her?

Die knowing she was behind it? Again?

Something Wicked This Way Comes. by MoneyraindownonU

4 Oct 2020, M, 4.5K, 1/4 chapters, 185 kudos

“She’s breathing but not responsive. She's not waking up.“-

Beth's words falter as she hears a low groan again. she looks down at Annie, still clearly unresponsive. She looks back up at Ruby and clocks she has noticed it too. They’re eyes searching the dark area around them. Only lit by the dim post light. Until they land on the biker.

He staggers standing up, holding onto his rib and leaning back against the tree. Lighting flashes bright again and Beth quickly see he's in a black long sleeve shirt that clings to his wet body thanks to their impromptu storm that has now stopped and black jeans. He’s tall, tan and lean but muscular with short cropped hair.

Even though the lighting illuminated their space for what feels like a millisecond it’s enough time for Beth's eyes to connect to his. And she sees how dark they are. Pure black. Blacker than his clothes or mangled bike. Blacker than the night sky above them.

It almost takes her breath away at the cold breeze that licks at her skin but it washes away by the time the light of the bolt clears out.

Breathing Down My Neck by vuccijl / @lilliloves

9 May 2020, M, 9.8K, 2/? Chapters, 232 kudos

“It was me or you.” She shoots back refusing to answer his question. “You made that clear.”

”Did I?” He asks, raising both eyebrows in question.

“I’m tired of sitting around waiting for you to kill me.” She cries in frustration. No one can make her feel this way - so off kilter, so frenzied, so unsure.

No one but him.

He reaches around the waistband of his pants and she holds her breath as he pulls out a gun. He tosses it onto the table next to him and nods in its direction.

“Do it.”

Love Despite by Briology / @itsbriology

2 May 2020, M, 20.2K, 5/10 chapters, 293 kudos

He couldn’t fathom what her problem was. The more he thought about it though, the more he wanted, needed to know. He knew it probably had something to do with the fact that it was the first time in years that something had genuinely piqued his interest. He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about anything other than finding the bottom of a glass or end of a blunt on a late Friday night after work.

She coos a sleeping Jane and gently packs her into the stroller, just thankful that most of the snow had been shoveled at this point and it wouldn’t be an absolute nightmare trying to get home. It broke her heart but the routine was becoming easier. Bundling Jane up until she could barely move through all the layers and then make the trek to the bus and then further trek back to her apartment became her routine. The pepper spray made her feel better about doing it in the middle of the night after her graveyard shifts but it wasn’t ideal. Doing this alone on a single paycheck wasn’t ideal.

We can't wait for the next update!

If you know of anyone’s tumblr/twitter and we haven’t found it or tagged incorrectly, please send us an ask to let us know.

#good girls nbc #nbc good girls #good girls fanfiction #good girls fanfic #beth x rio #good girls fic #brio fanfiction #brio fanfic #brio fic #wip wednesday

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365days365movies · 3 years

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April 9, 2021: Some Like it Hot (1959) (Recap: Part One)

If there was ever a movie more hyped than this one...

Ever heard of the American Film Institute? Well, according to them in 2000 (recent, I know), this is the funniest comedy...period. At the time, anyway. That beats Tootsie (getting there), Dr. Strangelove (love it), Annie Hall (also loved it), Duck Soup (classic), Blazing Saddles (classic, topical, and fantastic), M*A*S*H (maybe later this year), It Happened One Night (maybe next year), The Graduate (later this WEEK), and...THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN Airplane! IS NUMBER 10? You CANNOT be seri...yeah, OK, you know where I’m going.

Anyway. Yeah, so, maybe AFI has Oscar syndrome, because that’s a little bullshit. So, uh...how about the BBC? In 2017, they asked 253 film critics ACROSS THE GLOBE what the best comedy of all time was, and number ONE was Some Like it Hot. Other than beating Airplane! again, it also beat Groundhog Day, Monty Python’s Life of Brian and Monty Python and the Holy Grail, This is Spinal Tap, The Big Lebowski, and His Girl Friday, and...well, every comedy you can think of. This movie CANNOT be that funny.

...Can it?

But there’s more to this film than that. Apparently, it was made without the approval of the MPPDA, which means that it wasn’t Hays Code adherent! Damn! In fact, this film was partially responsible for its collapse about 6 years later! But what is the Hays Code? Well, briefly covered, it was a set of standards laid out by Will Hays and his Motion Picture Produces and Distributors of America, or the MPPDA. It was enforced in the mid 1930s, and stood firmly in place until 1968, when it basically disappeared.

So, what are these standards? Well, there are a lot, but in a nutshell:

No cursing or taking the Lord’s name in vain in any way.

No nudity, real or suggested. And sex is kind of OK, if consensual and between a man and a woman ONLY. But, they can’t be in bed together, and they can only kiss one time, IF one of them isn’t a villain.

No weddings, no wedding nights, and barely any reference to marriage.

No prostitution, or what was called “white slavery”. Yes. Really.

Oh, also, no weird race-mixing stuff. What’s a “civil rights”?

Buuuuuuut...don’t insult any races either. Of course, considering the time period, “insult” or “offense” is probably subjective, so...fuck that, I guess.

PRIESTS ARE HOLY AND CANNOT BE MOCKED

No guns, fire, American flags, murder, smuggling, drugs, hanging, electrocution, or...law enforcement?

No childbirth, seen or inferred, and no naked kids. I mean...that’s common sense, to be completely fair.

NO RACE-MIXI-oh. Oh, I said that already, didn’t I? Well, OK, I’ll pare it down a little. They can’t have sex, but I guess...looking at each other is OK? Yeah, yeah, we’ll go with that. I’m progressive!

That about covers it. And this movie wasn’t adherent to it? Oh...well, I am excited! Let’s jump right in! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

The whole thing starts with a bang; literally. It's Chicago in 1929, smack dab in the middle of the Prohibition Era, and a group of gangsters are smuggling some alcohol inside of a coffin, while riding in a hearse. The cops aren't fooled, ad a shootout takes place between the gangsters and the cops, but they eventually drop off as the group takes the coffin into a funeral home. At the funeral home, a man named “Toothpick” Charlie (George E. Stone) meets with Mulligan (Pat O’Brien) a detective who’s got Charlie as his informant. With his help, he makes his way into the funeral home, actually a speakeasy in disguise.

Said speakeasy is run by “Spats” Colombo (George Raft), and within the speakeasy is a massive party, which the partygoers call a funeral. Spats arrives there shortly afterwards, and Mulligan watches all the while. Also at this party is a group of dancers accompanied by a band, which contains two partners, ladies’ man and sax player Joe (Tony Curtis) and anxious double bassist Jerry (Jack Lemmon).

The two talk about what they’re going to do with their upcoming paycheck, with Joe planning on using it for gambling on dog races. Jerry is understandably worried about this, as they owe rent, but Joe rattles off other things that he might was well worry about.

Suppose you got hit by a truck. Suppose the stock market crashes. Suppose Mary Pickford divorces Douglas Fairbanks. Suppose the Dodgers leave Brooklyn! Suppose Lake Michigan overflows.

Fun fact, though: the stock market’s about to crash in a year, Pickford and Fairbanks divorce in 1936, and the Dodgers left Brooklyn in 1957, famously. Lake Michigan has not overflowed...YET. It’s actually at record high water levels, and could cause flooding around it in the next few years. So, although those middle three were DEFINITELY part of the joke...that last one wasn’t at the time. Of course, it’s actually there as a line to set Jerry up with a way to tell him that the streets are “about to flood”, as he spots Mulligan and makes him. He tells Joe, and they both quietly pack up their instruments and leave, BEFORE the ruckus is about to begin.

And begin it does, and the cops raid the place almost immediately afterwards. As the party’s broken up and people are loaded into the paddywagon (Spats included), Joe and Jerry take their chance to escape behind the cops’ backs. However, this also means that the two musicians aren’t getting paid after all. Joe’s still set on betting money on the dog the next day, and get the money for the bet by selling their coats. However, while they do sell their coats, they instead end up looking for jobs at a local music agency, run by Sig Poliakoff (Billy Gray).

The agency is recruited by band owner Sweet Sue (Joan Shawlee) and her nebbish band manager Bienstock (Dave Barry), as they need a bass and a sax player to replace two of their own, in their band in Florida. On hearing this from Poliakoff’s secretary Nellie (Barbara Drew), the two barge into the office. However, much to their dismay, the only ones they’re looking for are women. While Jerry tries to weasel their way in, it doesn’t quite work, and they instead take a job up north for a Valentine’s Day dance. The two go to a garage to borrow a car from Nellie in order to get to the job. There, playing cards, is Toothpick Charlie with a group of men. But then...somebody else arrives.

Spats and his men arrive at the garage, and tell all of the men to stand with their hands on the wall. Joe and Jerry, however, manage to hide in the garage. And if you know anything about Valentine’s Day during Prohibition Era Chicago...then you know exactly what’s about to happen to Toothpick and the guys.

After the massacre (based upon the real St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, Jerry makes a noise and alerts the gang to their presence. This is a problem, because Spats isn’t keen on the idea of witnesses, and immediately orders the musicians killed.With a distraction caused by the still-alive-but-dying Charlie, the two manage to escape Spats’ wrath. Now needing a fast way out of town, Joe figures out a plan. See, that job, the one from Sweet Sue, is in Florida, which is far enough away that they should be able to escape. But, uh...the band is only looking for women. And so...

This is the second most famous thing about the film. Meet Josephine and Daphne, the female aliases of Joe and Jerry respectively. As Jerry realizes the difficulties of the female wardrobe (namely skirts and heels), the two walk up to the band of women, known as “Sweet Sue and her Society Syncopators.” But they aren’t the only arrivals, and the other is the MOST famous thing about this movie...

This is Sugar “Kane” Kowalczyk, the lead singer, ukelele player, and...OK, look, it’s Marilyn Monroe, and I think I need to acknowledge this now. Marilyn Monroe is an underrated talent today, but she had a hell of a lot of potential as an actress and as an individual. She had a lot of troubles, and her early death by suicide is an absolute tragedy, no matter how you slice it. She’s a talented actress and singer, and she deserves recognition for that.

SHE IS ALSO INSANELY HOT I’M SORRY I’M WEAK

Look...it’s Marilyn fucking Monroe, OK? I know, I’m a straight cissexual man, but I wanted to make a point to acknowledge the fact that Marilyn Monroe is a talent far outside of her beauty and physicality. She (and all women) deserve that much, and deserve not to be objectified by the male gaze. I genuinely agree with this, and I do understand that concept. I’ll never personally understand the female experience, but it’s my responsibility and duty as an individual to understand experiences foreign to my own, including this one.

But DEAR LORD, her physicality is not easy to ignore, now and then! I mean COME ON! The woman’s considered a standard of classic beauty to this day by many (not by all, and not by herself), and it’s unfortunately her most famous feature to nearly everybody. But, of course, Monroe got a lot of grief for her looks as well (which is bullshit), and the stress of her life sadly led to her terrible suicide. But that doesn’t mean that her beauty inside and out shouldn’t be appreciated for what it is: beauty.

ALSO SHE IS DROP DEAD GORGEOUS I’M WEAK I KNOW

See, the train agrees with me! Oh...OH RIGHT, THE MOVIE! OK, where was I. Well, Joe and Jerry agree with me about Sugar Kane, but it is the 1950′s when the film is made, so of course they do. They watch her get on, and they follow suit, meeting the women of the band, and Sugar Kane. Sugar, see, has a teensy bit of an alcohol problem. That’s not necessarily to say she’s an alcoholic, but she is admonished for it by Sweet Sue and Bienstock, also being a repeat offender of drinking during working hours. That (and men) is something that Sweet Sue doesn’t tolerate.

She’s almost in trouble that night, when her flask falls from her stocking during a performance. However, Jerry covers for her, much to her appreciation. As they settle in for the night, all of the girls (including Joe and Jerry) sleep in the same cabin, much to the, uh, frustration of Jerry, despite Josephine’s urgings to keep it together. As Jerry continually reminds himself that he’s posing as a girl, he’s surprised that night with the appearance of Sugar, who comes to thank her for her help that night. Sugar tells “Daphne” that she owes her one, and also climbs into the cot with him to hide from Sweet Sue. Jerry...that poor mother fucker.

Well, Jerry tries to ease the tension by offering some of Joe’s whisky. But more of the girls overhear this, and eventually, a massive party erupts, with all the girls mixing drinks and sharing the single space of Jerry’s bed. Joe wakes up from all of this, and tries to help end the party, only for Sugar to climb out of it, and ask Joe for help with a block of ice for the drinks.

It’s here that she reveals that she used to work with men’s bands, but joined this band to get away from men. This is especially to get away from her weakness: tenor sax players. This intrigues Joe, the tenor sax player. However, she’s essentially sworn off of tenor sax players because of multiple bad relationships, and is instead hoping to find a millionaire in Florida, preferably one with a yacht. Meanwhile, Jerry’s bed is getting a little too full, and the girls are getting a little TOO familiar. They start to tickle him, and to prevent his cover being blown, Jerry pulls the train’s emergency brake. All of the girls scatter as the train stops, and they manage to get away with the party as Sweet Sue and Bienstock wake up only then.

The train gets to Florida, and the girls make their way into a hotel. As they check in, Jerry (as Daphne) is spotted by Osgood Fielding III (Joe E. Brown), a millionaire, and a man with eclectic tastes in women. And those tastes apparently include Daphne, as he unsubtly (and unwantedly) hits on her. And Jerry’s having none of it. After Osgood pinches him in the elevator, he gets off after slapping him. Unfortunately, that makes Osgood only want Daphne THAT MUCH MORE. This man...this man may just be the legendary alpha simp of which the stories tell.

Meanwhile, Joe manages to get ahold of Beinstock’s luggage and glasses. He steals his clothes (after fending off an overeager bellboy), and uses them to dress as a millionaire. Why? Why, to seduce Sugar, of course!

This is right at the halfway point, so we’ll pick this up in Part Two! See you there!

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dalamjisung · 4 years

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read my mind ✿ park jinyoung

word count:6973

genre: hospital!au, fluff

pairing: psychiatrist!jinyoung x resident!reader

description: you work as a barista at night and as a psychiatry resident during the day, what happens when those two lives start to mix?

Fridays are the busiest nights; and consequently, the worst nights. Working at a bar isn’t exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life, but it pays the bills and the tips are too good to just give up on– medical school isn’t cheap, and neither are the loan interests you will have to pay for the next twenty years of your life. You didn’t have time to complain about your job; you had to do it and that’s it.

“Hey!” Someone scream as you continue to gather used cups from the counter. “Another double!”

“Coming right up!” You shout, looking at the older man waving his empty cup. “Be right there.”

“Thank you,” He smiles as you pour his drink, and your skin crawls. With the job came the instinctive reaction to sleazy man, the one that makes the hair on your arm stand, signaling the danger and discomfort to come. “Now, what is a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Working,” You offer him a smile, knowing it will give you points for a good tip. “Excuse me.”

In a bar, there are many different types of people. Desperate people, sad people, happy people, anxious people; it seems that once an emotion overrides all the others, the bar is the place people go to. A bar is a place for celebration, for laughter and good memories; but it can also be a place for misery, for crying and forgetting. It was only a matter of time until you learned how to read people– their desires, their thoughts, their next moves,– eyes intent on the clients, honing the ability to the point that a person didn’t even have to say anything, you just know what they want. Just like how you know this man only wants to flirt, looking for a boost to his ego from a young woman. He wants to feel empowered by all the wrong reasons and you smirk, amused by his antics. However, men like this one don’t easily let go, offended by the realization that you actually have to work and don’t have time for them; therefore, they resort to physical strength.

“Stay for a little bit,” He murmurs in your ear, brining you close by grasping your arm. “I could use the company.”

“Sir, I have other clients to tend to,” The smile on your face contrasts the harsh tone of your voice. “So if you could let me go, that would be great.”

And just like that, you lost your tips.

“Don’t be like that,” He tries again, and in his eyes you see the look you hate the most: anger. “I’m being nice, here.”

This is usually the time you call your manager with a very smooth and secure shout of his name, but it seems like today is your lucky day and someone wants more tequila shots.

“I have to go,” You pull your arm but he doesn’t bulge. “Sir, please, I have to do my job–“

“Can you let her go, already?” A man, sitting to the right of your current situation speaks, loud and clear, sounding as fed up as you. “Even I heard her, man… she has shit to do.”

“Mind your own business,” The guy holding your arms spits and you chuckle humorlessly, taking a chance with the sudden distraction and successfully pulling your arm from his grabby hands. You know that it will leave a bruise but you couldn’t care less.

“Now I will,” Your helper rolls his eyes and looks at you. His hand instinctively move to his empty cup and you are on it before he even opens his mouth, pouring whiskey enough to last him a while. His eyes are wide in surprise and he even cracks a small smile. “You didn’t have to, I was just–“

“You wanted more, so I gave you more,” You shrug, going back to your work.

“How’d you know?” He asks, cynical of you. “You read my mind or something?”

“Call it an educated guess,” You say, and keep moving, knowing that if you stop, tiredness will wash over you like a tsunami. “I’ll add it to your tab.”

The night ends seamlessly; nothing much happening after that one incident. It’s when you’re cleaning the counter alongside Jisung, your coworker, that it hits you. You never thanked him for his help. But then again, you think, I never asked for it.

“Y/N,” Jisung calls from where he is putting the cups away. “I think this is for you.”

“Throw it away,” You say not even looking at it. “I’m not interested.”

“Tsk, still trying to die alone?” Jisung laughs, and you laugh with him, knowing that he means well. “You are too beautiful to be alone, Y/N.”

“And you are too beautiful for that boyfriend of yours, but I don’t see you two breaking up anytime soon,” You tease, poking him on your way to the back. “Is he coming to get you?”

“Yeah,” Jisung shouts. “Want a ride?”

“Please,” You answer, relieved that you won’t have to wait for the bus. “I have a big day tomorrow.”

“Nervous?” Jisung asks when you meet him outside, the smoke of the cigarette coming out of his mouth in a swift puff. “Changing hospitals in the end of residency is always hard…”

“I’ll be fine,” You smile tightly. “I had to leave, and you know that…”

“But people don’t,” Jisung looks at you carefully. “I’m just worried about you.”

“It’s going to be okay,” You promise as his boyfriend’s car pulls up. “I’m going to a better hospital with a better paycheck; I’m as good as it gets.”

“Aish, do you only think about money?” He chastises you, frowning.

“Yes,” You smile cheekily, and his boyfriend laughs. “Until I pay all of my loans, money is the only thing I’ll think about.”

“This girl…” Jisung mumbles, moving to grab Chaewon’s hand. You look at them fondly, knowing that no matter how many times you tell these two that you are fine by yourself and that you don’t want to waste time and energy on a relationship, the truth finds you and, from time to time, you catch yourself wondering how good it would be if you had someone to pick you up from work, too.

————————

“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” You bow with a wide smile, trying to hide the nervousness that comes with a situation like this. “I’m a fourth year resident, nice to meet you all.”

“Fourth year?” Someone whispers and you pretend you don’t hear them. “Isn’t that a bit late to be switching hospitals?”

“It’s good to have you, Dr. Y/N,” One of the nurses step forward, shaking your hand. “We are happy you’re here. I’m Jimin, or Nurse Park, whichever you prefer.”

“Yeah,” A girl steps forward. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Wheein.”

“Hi,” You wave shyly, glad that at least someone is talking to you. “Are you also a fourth year?”

She nods. “Yeah, but I’m with the Pediatrics department.”

“Ah, that sounds like fun,” You chuckle and she laughs with you. “I’m Psychiatry.”

After you say that, it feels like the words could echo in the silent room.

“W-What? Did I say something wrong?” You whisper with wide eyes, looking at your new friends. Jimin shakes his head and scoffs at his peers.

“Not at all,” He rolls his eyes. “The doctors are just being stupid.”

“It’s just shocking to see such a cheerful person like you working in such a sad place,” One of the doctors says, laughing as his friends nod. “It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it, isn’t that right?”

“Well, of course, Dr… Ahn,” You squint at his jacket, carefully reading his name. “Let me guess; surgeon?”

“Oh!” He exclaims, eyebrows going high. “How’d you know?”

“The hands,” You smile, pointing at his hands. “You’re holding your cup in a way that your hand won’t get burned with the hot coffee…”

“Wow,” He elbows his friend. “Consider me impressed.”

“What makes the Psychiatry ward so sad, Doctor?”

Your smile is gone, voice cold and cutting. Anyone could see your change in demeanor; eyes suddenly sharp, chest puffed, and chin high.

“Well, the–“

“Careful there Doctor,” You whisper close to him. “If you say ‘people,’ what will your colleagues think?”

He clears his throat, looking angry and confused. “It’s not–“

“Because if I can recall,” You interrupt him once again, going back to your smiley self. “The surgery room isn’t all that happy, with all the people desperately hanging onto their lives, trusting people like… you.”

“I don’t–“

“Don’t look down on people that can’t be fixed with surgery,” You breath, bowing to him. “I only ask that of you.”

You hear a mumble with some work you dare not to repeat and leave, a stampede of feet following him suit.

“That,” Wheein point at the leaving hoard of white jackets. “Was fucking cool.”

“I’m not a fan of people like him,” You say, suddenly blushing.

“And neither is our boss,” Jimin says throwing his arms around your shoulder. “Wait until you meet him.”

And you meet him. Around two hours later, after you are done with rounds and new patients’ admissions. When you see him, however, your heart stops, because that man does not look happy.

“Who are you?” He asks, not even looking up from his clipboard.

“I’m your new resident,” You bow. “Y/N Y/L/N.” “What year?”

“Fourth,” You say, feeling embarrassed for the first time.

“Fourth?” And he finally looks up. You don’t think he recognizes you, and you are not dumb enough to ask, choosing to nod instead. “Why?”

“Because I went through the first three already?” You try to joke but it clearly doesn’t work. “Sorry, bad joke. I just thought a change would be… good.”

“Good?” He frowns and his eyes scan you. “Did you get in trouble in the last hospital?”

You freeze.

“No,” You shake your head, looking down at your feet. As long as he didn’t recognize you, you’d be okay.

“If you are lying, I have ways to find out,” He says, and although his voice is soft, his words are harsh.

“Then please do,” When you finally gather the courage to look at his piercing eyes, you notice how they don’t look as intimidating as his attitude. They are understanding, and you are confused. “I’m here to do my best, Dr. Park.”

“That’s all I ask, then,” He nods. “Have you done rounds?”

“Yes, Doctor,” And you are back in your comfort zone, doing what you do best. Taking care of people that need you. “I also admitted two new patients and they are waiting for your assessment.”

“How long until you are a fellow?” He suddenly asks, reading the information in the chart. His eyes are quick and he scans everything with such precision that leaves you amazed.

“Three more months, Doctor,” You know this won’t help your case, but you also know you can’t lie to your boss.

“Hm,” He hums, and gives you the okay on the documents. “You’ve done a better job on these two files than most my fellows do. Keep it going.”

You blink, suddenly whiplashed. Was that a compliment?

“I give credit when credit’s due, Dr. Y/N,” He sighs, chuckling a little and you feel your whole body melt under that voice. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“Yes, Doctor, thank you,” You are quick on your feet and back with Jimin, discussing procedures.

“Ah,” Dr. Park calls again. “Y/N?”

Your body tenses, and you think, shit, he recognized me. This is it. He can fire me if he wants and–

“Those two patients you admitted,” He continues, hand on his pockets, looking so flawlessly cool.

“What about them?” You ask, suspicious of his easy going attitude.

“They are yours.”

And he leaves.

“Did he jus–“

“Oh wow,” Jimin’s eyes are wide, hands suddenly forgetting what they were doing. “Congrats, Y/N.”

“Is this normal?” You sigh. “He’s giving me more headaches than I’ve ever had in my life, and we talked for literally fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin laughs. “That’s Doctor Park Jinyoung. He loves his job and he is not really easy on people, but once you get on his good side, it’s all good.”

“Are you on his good side?” You ask, jokingly poking him in the waist.

“Most definitely,” Jimin says. “He told me once I was the nurse he trusted the most… it makes me sad that he actually has to trust people to do his job. We are medical practitioners, you know.”

“Has any incident happened before?” You frown.

“Yeah,” His voice sounds strained and tired. “One time he caught a nurse referring to patients as “crazy” and he fired her on the spot. Two residents and a fellow committed the same mistake… don’t misunderstand this, they were good doctors, but Dr. Park Jinyoung doesn’t put up with people that invalidates or disrespect the patients.”

“I wouldn’t either…” You whisper, eyes finding the tall man in the hallway, talking with a wondering patient. She is old and looks lost, but he smiles– the most wonderful and peaceful smile,– and guides her back to her room. When he laughs, his cheeks puff and you can’t help but breath out in relief. Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all.

————————

“Sorry I’m late!” You call out from the back, already putting on your apron and moving to the front of the bar. “Things got a little hectic in the hospital.”

“Everything alright?” Jisung asks, and his eyes take you in; tired, messy, but overall happy.

“All good,” You smile. “I got it over here. Thanks for covering for me.”

“No problem,” He offers you a pat on the back and goes back inside. “Shout if you need anything.”

You just nod, already pouring a few regulars their orders. Cranberry vodka, Long Island Ice Tea, Tequila and lime. Whiskey.

“I knew it was you.”

You look up, and to your surprise, it’s Doctor Ahn. His tie is a little loose and he looks drunk enough to make a dumb mistake.

“Ms. Smart Mouth,” He laughs humorlessly. “Guess you’re not all that high and mighty now, are you?”

“How can I help you, Sir?” You smile, going over the basic script.

“Oh, gonna pretend you don’t know me?” He snarls and leans forward, almost tipping his drink over. “Do you know how much trouble you got me in with Dr. Park Jinyoung?”

Dr. Park?, you think, but say nothing, maintaining your ground even if all of your body was screaming to run away.

“He heard about our interaction,” Dr. Ahn grabs the front of your t-shirt and you sigh, knowing that Jisung would show up anytime now. “And threatened to take me to the board. On what ground? Huh? You tell me, since you’re so smart, Dr. Y/N, on what grounds that motherfucker can take me to the board of the hospital?”

“Disrespectful behavior, prejudice against the ill, and now, to top it all, harassment of a coworker.”

Jinyoung stood behind Dr. Ahn, arms crossed over his chest, and eyes shinning a weird glint– something like rage working inside him.

“Let go of my resident, Hanseok,” Jinyoung mumbles, and the sheer power of his words are enough to make himself heard over the loud music. “Or I’ll make sure those hands can never operate again.”

You are free just in time to hold Jisung back, putting your arm in front of his chest. He looks at you and you just shake your head, asking him to leave it.

“Doctors,” You call out, trained smile on your face and voice chirpy. “Why don’t we just all take a breather and have a drink? On the house.”

“Wha–“ Dr. Ahn starts to say something but Dr. Park passes by, hitting him with his shoulder, and sits on a stool.

“Whiskey, please,” He says, and this is more like the man you’ve met. Voice calm and soft, even offering you a small smile.

“Coming right up!” To say you’re relieved is an understatement. You weren’t looking for trouble, specially with your superiors.

“Can you guess if I want ice or not?” Dr. Park chuckles and looks at you, and something changes. His eyes, the glint you saw before is gone, and there’s a new light in them, something more relaxed and oh so endearing.

You offer him a smile. “That goes beyond my abilities, Dr. Pa–“

“Jinyoung,” He clarifies, blushing a little. “We’re outside of the hospital, so just call me Jinyoung, will you?”

“Sure thing, Jinyoung,” You giggle, continuing to clean the cups. “Anything you need, let me know. It’s on the house.”

“This is all wrong,” He says, looking bothered. “I should be the one buying you drinks.”

“W-why?” You stutter.

“As your sunbae, I should be the one buying my residents drinks,” He smiles and there they are, the cheeks. You control the urge to pinch them and smile.

“I’ll take you up on that some other time, sunbae,” You laugh, already moving to fill up someone else’s cup. “I have work to do.”

“What time does your shift end?”

“Late,” You sigh, tired just from thinking about it. “But don’t worry! I’ll be at the hospital on time and ready for work!”

“That’s not what I was worried about,” He says, downing his drink and gets up. “But that’s good to hear. Have a goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Jinyoung.”

————————

“Dr. Y/N,” Someone calls. “Patient on room two needs you!”

“Dr. Y/N, there are two emergency patients waiting!”

“Dr. Y/N, they are asking for your help in the Neuropsychology department!”

“Dr. Y/N–“

“Oh my god,” You groan, struggling to maintain your false composure; it’s now been two months since you first started at the hospital and you still wondered where were the other doctors. “Where are the other residents?”

“Dr. Yoon is having breakfast with a few fellows and Dr. Han is late,” Jimin giving you more folders. “You’re the only one here, at the moment.”

“For fuck’s sake, I can’t take care of a whole wing by myself, Jimin,” You breath out, suddenly having a hard time to concentrate.

“Hey, breath, Y/N, just breath,” He instructs, patting your back. “I’ve already called Dr. Park, he’ll be here as soon as possible, but for now, you need to do this.”

You close your eyes, pulling your hair back and retying it in a high ponytail. Just the mention of his name gives you energy; you know you need to do good by him.

“Okay, let’s go,” You put on your jacket and you start all over again, assigning nurses to each case as they demanded it. “Jimin, go to the Neuro department and see what they want, I’m sure Dr. Park’s opinion would be better than mine, so ask if they can wait until he’s here. Nurse Baek and Nurse Kyung, go to the emergency patients for an initial assessment and get back to me; I’m going to room 2.”

Y/N, those two patients you admitted, Jinyoung’s voice ring in your head. They are yours.

“Ms. Lee?” You smile, entering the room where the sweet old lady from before laid. “I’m your doctor, Dr. Y/N…”

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Y/N,” She laughs and you smile. She might not remember you, but the light in her eyes shine like no other.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. Lee,” You shake her hand carefully. “Do you know where you are?”

“The hospital?” She asks. “I don’t remember coming here…”

“Yes, ma’am,” You nod. “You were admitted yesterday… but you don’t have to worry, though; we’ll take really goo care of you.”

“Oh I’m sure of that,” Her hand holds yours. “Can you tell me why I’m here, though? I don’t remember…”

Taking a deep breath, you started to explain her condition, going over the medical details in the simplest terms you could, giving her time to process and ask questions. Ms. Lee had suffered from a brain injury that lead her to have long term memory loss, resetting her brain every few hours, which would lead to issues such as taking care of herself and others. Her daughter admitted her to the hospital in hopes that she could be properly taken care of, and that’s what you’d do. She cries a little bit, but is pretty understanding of her situation over all.

“Will you come back later, Dr. Y/N?” She sniffles, and you chuckle.

“Of course, Ms. Lee,” You wink. “I have to visit my favorite patient at least twice a day.”

“I hope I’ll remember you later,” She says and your heart clenches. “If I don’t, it’s been a pleasure, Doctor.”

You just smile, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment. This was the hard part of the job; the feelings, the defeat, the acceptance. All doctors, surgeons or not, go through the same process of training, where you have to deliver bad news to the ones responsible for the patient… and that was the hardest part for you. Always’ been.

“Dr. Y/N, good morning,” Jinyoung calls, jogging past you to his office. Surprised with his sudden appearance, you take him in, and his jeans and t-shirt make you smile.

“Good morning, Doctor Park,” You mumble, even though you know he won’t hear you.

This has been the routine so far; you get in for the early morning shifts, on the nights you don’t have to stay for the overnight shift and miss work, with barely four hours of sleep, and no one is there besides Jimin. You take care of emergency patients and the patients in the rooms assigned to you. Then, when the clock hits an acceptable hour, Dr. Park shows up, wishing you a ‘good morning’ and running to his office, where he will change and look like the professionally stern doctor she usually does. Once your shift is over, you go to work at the bar, where you will pour greasy men their drink until Jinyoung shows up, and you two will talk for the couple hours he usually stays, then he leaves and you have to get back to your real life. And then repeat. Every night, though, Jinyoung brings you coffee; lattes, fast whites, americanos– always something to make your night better. And that’s how it happened, you realize; the slow growth of your feelings for him, one coffee at a time.

Today however, once Dr. Park finally takes over the ward, and your shift is over, and you go to your job where Jisung is waiting for you with redbull and a sandwich, you feel yourself slipping. You move slower than usual and some clients even have to call you twice before you can actually process it.

“What’s going on with you?” Jisung asks as he decided to help you with the counter.

“Nothing,” You shake your head, hoping it would wake you up. “I think I’m just a little tired.”

“A little?!” He laughs. “You’ve been overworked for years now. A little is underestimating it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say–“

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

You look to the group in front of you and now you feel like you could actually pass out.

“Dr. Kim,” You breath out, eyes wide in surprise. “W-what are you d-doing here?”

Not sure if Jisung heard you, your glance at him and he nods– he’s keeping an eye on you.

“So this is what you’re doing now?” Dr. Kim lets out a humorless laugh. “As expected of someone like you.”

Stay calm, you think to yourself, taking a deep breath. Stay calm, Y/N, and do your job.

“What can I help you with today?” And smile.

He laughs again and you don’t think you could ever forget this sound; it haunts you at night when you try to sleep and it follows you during the day, sneaking on your when you’re distracted. The only way to push it away is to focus on something else– like your patients.

“Oh, so now you want to help me?” He murmurs and leans forward and you’re scared.

For the first time since you started this job, you are terrified.

“Whiskey.”

Your hand flies to the bottle instantly, your body reacting on its own and moving to the new man sitting next to Dr. Kim. You feel his eyes on you, heavy on your back as you serve the costumer, unable to look up from your feet.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

Jinyoung.

“Ah,” Now you’re looking at him, begging him with your eyes to stop. “If it isn’t Kim Jungseok…”

“Park Jinyoung,” Dr. Kim smiles and you just want to sit down and cry; for two months, ever since you left your old hospital, all you’ve been wanting to do is cry. “How do you know my old resident?”

At this Jisung is right next to you, pushing you behind him.

“Because she’s my new resident,” Jinyoung point at you and takes a sip form his cup. “Best one I’ve ever had, to be honest.”

“Oh yeah, Y/N was the best at her job,” Dr. Kim looks at you and winks.

“Funny you say that,” Jinyoung chuckles and a weird sense of deja-vu hits you. You’ve seen that look in his face before, when he fired one of the fellows for inappropriate behavior towards a few of the nurses. From what you knew, he kept hitting on them and intimating them to go on dates. “Why’d you fire her?”

This is when you know you need to intervene.

“Dr. Park, I don’t–“

“She chose to leave,” Dr. Kim shrugs. “Can’t force her to stay, can I?”

Jinyoung laughs and finishes his drink. All the while, alarms are sounding in your head as your current boss turns to face your old boss. Everything in Park Jinyoung screamed powerful at that moment and you know that something big is about to happen.

“No, but apparently you can force her to do other things, right?”

Jisung is quick to pull you to the back as soon as the first punch is thrown. You scream Jinyoung’s name but he is too busy to look and the door closes, leaving just you, shaking and crying, and Jisung, who’s on the phone with the front door bouncers. As soon as they give you the okay, you are running to the front, looking for the man you see everyday, hoping to see him just one more time before tomorrow.

“No,” You mumble through your tears, banging your fist on the counter. “No no no, fuck no!”

“That was your old boss,” Jisung breaths out, looking at you. “And what Jinyoung said–“

“I have no fucking clue how–“

“Your file,” Jinyoung says, coming out of the bathroom with a wet napkin to his mouth. “Did you really think I’d never find out?”

“I didn’t–“ You stop, trying to think back to what you wrote on your file. “I didn’t say anything about it on my file.”

“You wrote issues with the staff, the rest I assumed,” Jinyoung sighs, sitting back on the stools, flinching a bit. “Harassment is not something I take lightly, Y/N.”

“Assumed?!” You shriek. “How the fuck–“

“You forget that’s my job,” And he looks at you like no one did before– like you are there, shinning brighter than the lights; like you are speaking louder than the music, and presence bigger than the room. He looks at you as if you are the only one present and you feel your heart do a weird thing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why would I?” You ask. “If people at the hospital knew, I’d be the talk of the department. I’d be labeled as either he girl that couldn’t just put up with it, or the girl that put up with it for too long… so I left before it got worse.”

“I didn’t say people,” He seethes, and you’ve never seen him look so devastated before. Not when Ms. Lee had one of her episodes, not when he was called in to evaluate the mental condition of an inmate, not when you were swarming with emergency patients. Never. “I said me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-I don’t know…” You whisper, drying the few tears that still dared to fall and turning to the freezer to get a couple of drinks. “I just didn’t.”

“Do you not trust me?”

“Jinyoung!” You chastise, turning to face him with now two beers. The bar had been closed a little early thanks to the fight and Jisung was nowhere to be seen. It was just the two of you now, and you sit next to him. “Why would you say that?”

He shrugs. “I’m the one responsible for you now,” He sighs, turning to you. “And how can I take care of you if you won’t let me?”

“I’m your employee,” You roll your eyes. “Not your girlfriend.”

“…yeah,” Jinyoung takes a sip. “Sure.”

Something shifts, as you sit there, alone with Jinyoung, drinking beer, after he had just been punched because of you. His words, slow and sad, hit you like a ton of bricks. His eyes, looking down at his hands, make their way to you. And now you know. Now you are sure.

“Jinyoung,” You breath out, sounding as surprised as you are sure you look. “Do you like me?”

His head hangs low, and he chuckles. “Read my mind again, did you?”

“I–“

“Don’t,” He asks, eyes shinning with strength. “We’re old enough to not have to explain.”

“I work,” You blurt out, ignoring him completely. “Two jobs; the hospital and here. Not because I like, though… here, I mean. I don’t work here because I like it, but the tips are good and I need money.”

Jinyoung just nods.

“I need to pay my school loans,” Words keep coming out of your mouth and you are not sure why. You’ve never felt the need to explain yourself before, but with Jinyoung everything is just different. “I need to pay them as soon as possible because I don’t want this huge debt interfering with my career. I’m sure I’ll be able to do it in a few years, if I manage to get my fellow in this hospital. All the time I don’t spent with you and Jimin, I’m here. I’m constantly tired, hungry, stressed, and overworked. I smile to men that are disgusting because I can’t tell them fuck themselves without losing my job and I don’t have anything to look forward to, anymore. I like you, too. You are caring, and kind, and an incredible doctor. But why do you like me? I’m not the best at what I do, but I’m not the worst. I’m not particularly skilled, or impressive, or–“

“Somedays,” Jinyoung interrupts your rambling, hand moving to cover yours, resting in the counter. “I have no faith left in humanity. The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done… I’m not sure exactly why, but somedays I just don’t think there is anything good out there. And then I see you. In all my years of working in that hospital, I’ve never seen anyone like you. You work diligently, without skipping a day, although you’ve not slept for nights, and you do what your told, but you follow your gut. You know right and wrong and, better yet, you know people. You have this freaky ability to read body language and the patients love you, because they know you know what they need and what they want. That is what makes you an incredible doctor.”

You just look at him.

“You say you’re not particularly skilled,” He laugh. “That’s bullshit, Y/N. You are one of the best doctors I’ve seen. Hell, you are one of the best people I’ve met. I literally took a punch for you, because you are so worth it.”

“Jinyoung–“

“Don’t do that again,” He asks, stroking his thumb on the palm of your hand. “Tell me things. I want to know them, so I can help you. I know right now seems hard, but you will get through this. I know you will."

“How are you so sure?” You whisper, entranced by this man.

“Because I did,” He smiles. “Five years ago, I worked this same job, at this same place. And I did it; I payed all of my loans back, turned into a pretty good doctor, and dare I say, met you. Things seem pretty fine to me.”

“Oh my god, you are so cringey,” You groan, laughing with him. “Who knew? Intimidating Dr. Park is actually the softest boy.”

“Just for you,” He says and you laugh even harder. “Now why don’t I take you home? You can hopefully get a full eight-hour-sleep if we leave now.”

The ride to your house is silent and comfortable. But that’s all that is– a ride. Jinyoung drops you home, and, after declining your offer for coffee, drives away.

You go to bed confused and lost.

He did say he liked me, right?

————————

“And he left?!” Wheein shouts, banging her fists on the table. “Wah, that man really is heartless…”

“Yah,” You frown. “Don’t say that.”

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to offed your boyfriend,” Wheein laughs and you chuckle with her, eating your lunch in silence.

Jimin looks at you with a little smile, but says nothing, so you nod at him. “You are awfully quiet today.”

“Ah, am I?” He chuckles. “Didn’t notice…”

Wheein elbows you and you look at her, suspicious of your friend. “Spill it, Park.”

“Spill what?” He makes an innocent face but he can’t fool you. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” You ask, resting your face on your hands.

“Like I’m kidding something,” He mumbles and looks to the side.

“Ah!” You shout, pointing at his eyes. “Why’d you look away? What are you hiding?”

“I really hate you and your mind reading abilities,” He groans and hides his face in his arms. “I can’t say.”

“Why not?” You whine, looking at Wheein as she laughs. “We have no secrets among us!”

“Yes we do,” Jimin scoffs. “And this one I really can’t tell.”

“Come on, Jimin-ah,” Wheein begs, curious as well. “Tells us.”

“Nope,” He says and gets up. “Gotta blast.”

“Does this has anything to do with Jinyoung?” You ask, and he flinches a little before running away.

“What was that?” Wheein asks pointing at your friend. “He’s the worst at keeping secrets!”

You shrug and go back to work, waving goodbye as she runs after Dr. Kim Yugyeom with some files that need his signature. Jimin is at his station but he refuses to talk to you, certainly afraid that he will spill the beans. The day goes by slowly like this, and right before you leave, you remember a few papers that need Dr. Park’s signature.

“Jimin,” You call, running to the front desk. “Where is Dr. Park? I need his–“

“Not here,” He says quickly and leaves. “Goodbye, have a goodnight!”

“So fucking weird,” You mumble watching him speed walk to Ms. Lee’s room.

You leave the papers in the front desk with a post-it note and decide to call it for the day, thankful that you are out on time and that you won’t be late for your shift at the bar. You are on the elevator when you pull your phone, ready to text Jisung but surprised to see that he texted you first.

I won’t be at work today. Just you ;)

You swear you almost have a heart attack.

What the fuck do you mean it’s just me? Jisung, I can’t take care of the bar by myself!

We’re not opening tonight, chill. I just need you to check inventory and you’re done.

Why can’t he do that? You sigh, knowing that you can get that done within the hour and then go home and rest.

Okay.

You get to the bar already exhausted and you drop your bag in the door, taking a second to breath. You admit, you loved this place. The wooden tables and counter, the atmosphere, the freedom. You’ll miss it when it’s gone. You feel so natural in there, not having to hide anything from anyone. You feel comfortable, even though sometimes you have some trouble.

Is this why Jinyoung comes here every night?, you wonder, walking to the counter to check the bottles. Is he looking for comfort, too?

You are halfway through inventory when you hear the chimes of the door. Knowing that Jisung was probably on the seventh heaven with his boyfriend right now, you make your way to the front, shouting as you walk.

“Sorry, we’re not open tonight!”

“Not even for me?”

You look up to Jinyoung, not exactly surprised, but still impressed. He looked flawless, in jeans and a jumper. His hair, ruffled by the wind outside, covered his eyes a bit and you smile, thinking he looks adorable in his glasses.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, walking to him. “You weren’t at the hospital…”

“I had a consultation at the penitentiary,” He sighs, and his shoulders drop at the confession. You feel the stress coming out of him, and you grab his hand, hoping that maybe some human touch is exactly what he needs. “But I wanted to see you.”

“Hello, then,” You smile bright. “Want a drink?”

“Thought you were closed?” He teases, sitting on his usual stool nonetheless. You laugh and walk behind the counter, and everything feels oddly familiar.

“I’ll make an exception for you, kind sir,” You joke. “You did help me even without knowing me…”

“Ah, I was wondering if you recognized me from that night,” He smiles and that is all you needed. “I hated seeing that man grabbing you like that, to be honest.”

“Why? Were you already so in love with me that you got– Hey, where are you going?!” You laugh as he rolls his eyes and pretends to leave the room. He comes back when you ask him to, grabbing his cup and your hand in the process. “I missed you today.”

“Yeah?” He asks shyly, blushing a bit as you lean over the counter, face really close to his. “Missed you, too…”

“Jinyoung,” You groan. “When will you kiss me?”

You think he chokes on his drink and once you reach over to tap him on his back, he pulls you by the wrist, covering your mouth with his. You can’t help but chuckle at this man; he always looks so demanding and stern in the hospital, but his kiss is nothing short of shy and gentle. He takes his time, and your neck even hurts a bit after he pulls away, but it’s oh so worth it.

“There,” He ‘tsk’s’ and takes another sip. “Happy? I was planning something more romantic, but you are just too impatient.”

“Oh shut up,” You hit his arm lightly. “It was visible how much you wanted to kiss me.”

“Okay, this can’t do,” He gets up and goes behind the counter, caging you in between his arms. “Y/N, this won’t work like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“For this,” He motions in between you two. “To work, you need to stop reading me.”

At that, you laugh, throwing your head back and wheezing. “It’s not something I chose to do!”

“I want to surprise you at leas once!” He whines.

“Oh,” You gasp, looking at his pouting lips. “Is big bad doctor whining?”

“Stop teasing me!” He begs, hiding his face on your neck. “I’m not good with these things.”

“Oh, I think you’re great,” You say, kissing him once more. “The best, really.”

“I hate you,” He groans, lips finding yours again.

Jinyoung pulls you closer, sitting you on top of the counter and finding a place in between your legs as he kisses you like there is no tomorrow. Now, he is much more firm then he was before, and you can’t hide your excitement, grabbing his neck and hair and pulling him closer.

“We need to stop,” He murmurs on your lips. “Seriously, I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself if we keep going.”

“Behave yourself, we’re at my work place,” You laugh and, pecking his lips one last time, jump out of the counter. “I still have some stuff to do, but you can go home if you want.”

Jinyoung shakes his head. “No way, I’m dropping you home after this. Jisung said he can’t come pick you up and I don’t like you walking home by yourself at night.”

“Jisung? Since when you guys talk?”

“Since I needed to find out when you’d get here,” Jinyoung smiles mischievously and he looks so young and carefree that you don’t dare to tease him, afraid that he’ll close himself off again. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did,” You smile. “Is that why Jimin was acting weird all day?”

“Ah, that boy can’t keep a secret for his life,” Jinyoung sighs. “Poor him, I bet you and Wheein interrogated him.”

“You bet we did, he was acting so weird!”

The banter occupies most of your time and soon enough you find yourself home, on your bed, with Jinyoung’s arms wrapped around you. The comfort is unlike anything you’ve felt before and you snuggle closer to him, happy at last.

As sleep caught up to you, you couldn’t help but think how excited you were for work tomorrow, when you’d finally have someone to pick you up, too.

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

Hello lovelies! As promised, here is the update of the week! Jinyoung’s turn <3 This was so much fun to write, although I will admit, it’s been the hardest one so far. What do you think? Let me know in the comments :P Love you all and thank you for the constant support <3

158 notes · View notes

headoverhiddles · 4 years

Text

You and Me and The Devil Makes 3 - Marilyn Manson x Brian Warner x Reader [Smut] - Part II

Synopsis: Both you and Brian can’t get the substitute teacher off your mind. Thankfully, Brian needs some extra help before an upcoming exam, and your regular teacher still hasn’t come back.

Notes: Long ass title. Anyway, someone asked for a sequel, so here’s more filthy Mancest ft you! IT’S FILTHY! We could all use the porn.

Part One

You bring your lips to your boyfriend’s, lazily making out after an hour of stressing the springs in his mattress.

A KISS record plays in the corner of his room. The afternoon sun seeps in over the countless Judas Priest and Nine Inch Nails posters all over the walls through the blinds that you’ve kept unturned. Both of you like the thrill of knowing Brian’s Christian neighbors might see you and your “filthy sex acts” again. Barb, Brian’s mother, hadn’t been too pleased after receiving that phone call, but Brian’s dad Hugh found it quite funny.

His parents liked you, called you a sweet girl. They don’t know much about Brian, and they don’t make much of an effort to—they know he’s into some dark music and he has a band, but they don’t know he’s interested in guys too, and they don’t know how far he wants to take his musical persona.

You’re also anything but sweet, but Barb and Hugh are well meaning, and you love them to death, always appreciative of the cake Barb feeds you when you visit the house. You think the two of them have some kind of idea that since Brian is almost finished high school, he’d take you somewhere and settle down with you. Neither of you want to settle down, but as far as either of you have shared, you have no plans of breaking up after grad.

You move your kisses down to Brian’s neck, and he keens under the attention, before reaching up to pull you back to his lips.

“I want you again,” you whisper, and Brian stares up at you.

“We just went four times, you brat.”

“But I’m horny.”

“And I’m soft, roll offa me. Gonna have to… watch some porn or something to get hard again…”

“This is better than porn,” you grin, unhooking your bra, and he pauses in his act of drinking down his bedside water glass, smiling too.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he laughs, and smoothes his hands up your rib cage to cup your breasts and fondle them. You lean down to drag them against his bare chest, and his hands move down to once again get himself ready to fuck again.

“So. We gonna talk about what happened on Friday?”

Brian’s breath hitches as he jacks himself to hardness again. “Do you want to?”

“I certainly think it raises some new… things, that we’re both obviously into.” Brian flushes a little, and you grin, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Hey. You know you can be comfy with me.”

Brian nods, thrusting up into you finally with a hiss. “It was hot… the stuff he did.”

“I know,” you breathe, shuddering as you slide back down over him, “I just wanted the two of you to double team me forever.”

“So is this a thing, then?” Brian whispers, “Like, a third person?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, “We could explore a polyamorous relationship. But for now, I’m okay with secret threesomes involving hot teachers.”

“You think he’s still there?”

“I think before he left on Friday, he mentioned he’d be around for another week. Mrs. Nordman wasn’t just hungover, she had the flu or something. Why?”

“I mean… we’ve got that English exam coming up soon.”

You smile. “We could use the extra help, hm?” He groans at that, pushing up into you harder, and you tilt your head back, riding him into his bed.

---

At school on Monday, you meet Brian at the front doors. He’s standing with Daisy, waiting for his friend to finish smoking, and doodling something on his hand. You see it’s a bunch of needles and lollipops.

“You know, you should’ve been an artist,” you smile, taking his hand.

“I am an artist. Different kind.”

Pogo approaches, swinging himself up onto the railing. “Morning, you sad fucks. How’re the losers today?”

“Depressed,” Daisy answers.

“Good to hear. I myself am in a fucking marvelous mood, seeing as I banged not one, not two-- but THREE chicks this weekend at a college tit party. THE MAD CLOWN HITS HOME AGAIN!” He lets loose his usual flurry of crazy laughter, the sound that could tell anybody the bald student was coming from a mile away.

“How’d you manage that?” Brian mutters, amused.

“Sorry, Mr. Big Dick, some girls have refined taste, unlike (y/n) or Mr. Manson in there, don’t argue, I know you fucked him.” He pauses his manic rocking, leaning forward. “I also told them I was in a wildly successful rock band.”

“There’s the kicker,” you nod.

“I did not fuck Mr. Manson,” Brian protests. Everyone turns to look at him, and he smirks your way. “He fucked me.” Laughter erupts.

“No smoking on school property, you goth weirdos,” some kiss-ass cheerleader snaps as she walks past, and Pogo catapults Brian’s pen at her head.

“We’re gonna be late, hurry up.” Brian nudges Daisy.

“This is my last one, and I’m too broke to afford another pack until I get my next paycheck,” Daisy complains, savouring another drag.

“Here, lemme have a puff,” Pogo says, motioning for it. Daisy passes it over, and Pogo flicks it into the grass, pulling everyone inside. “Problem solved!”

You giggle as Daisy shakes his head, and all of you turn when you hear screaming. There’s Jeordie, running toward the school like an idiot.

“I’m gonna make it! I’m gonna make it!” he’s shouting, then the bell goes. He tosses his backpack to the ground, kicking it. “SHIT!”

---

It’s an uneventful Monday, until the last class. When you get in and sit down, Mr. Manson is at the front of the class already, writing the day’s class plan out. Today, he’s dressed in a black button up, with a black vest over top of black pants. His hair is brushed back in a fairly respectable style, and… he turns around. His lips today are a soft coral pink, with black and blue eyeshadow. Brian stares at him, in awe once again at the man’s swaggering confidence and style. Why is it that with bisexuality, it’s always a question of if he wanted to be the other guy, or be in the other guy? Or have the guy in him, as the case may be.

“Alright. Before we start, does anyone have any questions about today’s makeup?” Manson’s tone is playful, and a light titter of laughter comes from the students. He grins. “Alright. You sure?” More laughter. “Okay. Today, we’ll be covering a new chapter of literary theory, and applying it to the first act of Hamlet.”

His dark eyes sweep the classroom as he marks off attendance, and when they come to rest on you, he looks up. “Is there a reason why you and Miss (y/l/n) were late today, Mr. Warner?” Your entire friend group looks at the two of you. Your boyfriend just shrugs.

“Yeah, there was a reason.” You raise an eyebrow right back with a smirk, and Brian leaves it at that. You’re surprised when Manson accepts this without a cheeky little order to see him after class, but that’s fine. Brian has an excuse to see him anyway.

While Mr. Manson is talking, Brian writes out some lyrics for a new song he and the Spooky Kids have been working on. He nudges you, and taps the paper, which has a verse written out.

VCRs and Vaseline

TV fucked by plastic queens

Cash in hand and dick on screen

(who said god was ever clean)

He’s drawn a big question mark under it, so you give a little check mark on the paper, with the note:

Hot.

“I know this shit is boring, but pay attention,” Manson says from the front of the classroom, glaring daggers at you two.

“Imagine that lipstick all over my naked body,” you whisper in his ear. Brian glares at you.

“Stop trying to get me hard in class.”

“Why?” you tease.

“Cause it’s fucking working.”

“Do you one of you guys have an eraser?” Jeordie whispers (far too loudly) from behind you. You pass him back yours, and look at him sternly.

“Don’t pick it apart like you did all my other ones.”

“What did I just say?” Manson snaps from the front of the class.

“We were just—!” you try to protest.

“No talking. Last warning.”

You and Brian exchange looks. He’s in a mood today, and you can’t wait to see how the two of you can test him even more after class.

When the class is finished, you all wait until the rest of the students are gone. Pogo looks back at you two from the door, making obscene blow job gestures. Mr. Manson doesn’t look up from the desk.

“Did you need something, Mr. Bier?”

“Not me!” Pogo snickers, dashing off to go catch up with Daisy and Jeordie.

“Mr. Manson?” Brian asks, “I need a little bit of help with studying for the upcoming exam. I dedicate a lot of time to my band, and… don’t study as much as I should.”

“Mm. And (y/n)? You just gonna watch your boyfriend... ask for help?” Manson asks.

“I might learn a few things too, by sticking around,” you say, and lean forward against your desk. Manson’s eyes roam down to your cleavage, and he closes his book, getting up. He walks over to the door, locks it, and comes back over.

“The English exam. Yeah. As you know, I don’t know much about your curriculum, or really, about the exam itself.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t try to help us out,” you say. “Please sir? We really need help.” Mr. Manson looks at you, blue and black shadow making his hooded eyes seem supernatural.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Brian walks over to his desk, chin jutted out in confidence that will be lost as soon as Manson looks him in the eye. Sure enough, when the substitute gives your boyfriend one of his looks up and down, sweeping his entire body as if he’s a meal about to be devoured, Brian shudders. But he’s not about to lose his cool.

“See… I don’t get the whole psychoanalytic theory,” Brian says, putting the book down in front of Mr. Manson, “I don’t see how it applies to Hamlet.”

“Of course you pick the Freudian thing.” He sighs. “Well first, you have to understand psychoanalysis.” Manson looks over to you pointedly. “I’m sure you know all about Freud and his phallic symbols. You two had a lot of fun drawing them on your notes last Friday.”

Brian laughs a little at that. Wrong move. Manson gets up, and in one quick stride, he has your boyfriend pushed down and bent over the desk, ass up.

“What the fuck?” Brian mutters, but you can hear the whine at the end of his protest. Your legs rub together as your finger grazes your lower lip… you want to see how this turns out.

“Here’s what I’m gonna do,” Manson says slowly, “I’m gonna help you two, since you fuck around in class all the time and never pay attention.” He leans in close to Brian, and your boyfriend glares up at him for holding him in such a vulnerable position. Manson just smirks, and gets out a ruler from the desk. “Our angel over there is gonna answer some questions of mine, baby. Got it?”

“What do you—?” A sharp slap echoes, as Manson hits the desk with the ruler hard.

“You say yes sir, and no sir, or this desk will be that pretty little ass. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Brian breathes, laying his face down on the desk. You raise an eyebrow, spreading your legs just a bit.

“You really have enough confidence in me that I know these answers?” you grin.

“Nah. I’m counting on you not knowing a single one, baby girl,” Manson smiles, and traces the ruler up Brian’s back. “But try your best. He’s counting on you.” Manson gets the ruler ready again. "Tell me what the basis of psychoanalytic theory is."

"It's a theory that draws from psychoanalyzing the behavior of the characters in the... in the story," you say, eyes trained on Brian.

"Good start," Manson nods, rubbing his hand up Brian's back, "Saved you this time, sweetheart." Brian makes a noise, akin to a moan, and Manson looks at you again, expectantly, from the depths of that eyeshadow. "What are some examples?"

"There's... a response to modern day literature from a new and improved perspective."

"Wrong," Manson says, "That's postmodernism."

“Aw. Guess that must’ve slipped my mind.” You shift in your seat, reaching down to touch yourself. Manson sees this out of the corner of his eye, and lifts his chin.

"Mr. Warner?"

Brian obediently pulls down his leggings just enough. Not satisfied with this, Manson pulls them down to his knobby knees, and hits him hard with the ruler. Brian's hips rut against the desk, and your pussy clenches as you rub faster circles.

"Again, sir," Brian whimpers.

"You want another one?" Manson asks.

"Yes, sir."

"(y/n)... your boy here's a bit of a slut."

"I'd have to agree," you grin, head rolling back as a moan is drawn from your throat.

"I guess I should know that by now. Have you ever tried fucking him?"

Brian's breath hitches, and you think about this. "He's never asked."

"Imagine how that'd feel, hm?" the teacher whispers in Brian's ear, "Her fingers inside of you... filling you up. You like that?"

"Fuck, fuck," Brian groans, hips pushing forward against the desk. He's painfully hard.

"Gonna cum in your pants?” Manson rasps.

“No...” Brian clenches his jaw. “Ugh...”

“What if she fucked you with three fingers? Spreading this perfect ass wide open?" he continues to tease, snarling, "What if I did? You like the pain, don't you? It turns you on." Manson spanks him again, harder, and you can see the red imprint he’s left.

"Yeah..." Brian moans, his usual grumble raising in pitch. "I want you both to fuck me."

"First, you get to watch." Mr. Manson looks over to you, and beckons. You make a show of teasing back, mouthing 'me?' Before Manson has a chance to threaten, you stand, walking over to the teacher. He stands a full few feet taller than you, the height difference still as hot as it was in the washroom the other day. He takes you by the shoulders, and brings his lips to yours. The kiss is sloppy and heated. You moan, sliding your hand down to cup his cock through his black slacks. You can feel the hefty erection respond to your touch, but you want to feel it inside you, fucking you. Brian watches, and reaches down to give himself some relief.

"Ah ah," you break away from the kiss to say, "Someone's being naughty." Brian shoots you a glare for ratting him out, and you blow your boyfriend a kiss as Manson turns to look at him.

"Do I have to tie you up, baby boy? Or can you stop those hands from wandering, hmm?" Hearing that in Manson's deep growl is such a turn on. You pull him back to you.

"Let him stay like that. If you spank him again, he's gonna cum all over the desk."

"Disgusting," Manson chastises, licking his lips, "Filthy filthy, Mr. Warner."

"At least I didn't take out my cock in class and start stroking it for you to see," Brian mouths off.

"I'm sure you would've loved to do that," you smirk, going back to stroking Mr. Manson through his pants.

"Mm. Yeah. Bet you would’ve loved to take it out, show everyone how hard you were. How ready you were for your girlfriend and your fucking teacher to take turns on you.”

"I..." Brian groans.

"Use your words, slut."

"Yeah," he breathes, "I might... I don't know, get embarrassed, but--"

"Sluts don't get embarrassed," Manson says sharply. "Besides, as a big rock and roll singer, I'd imagine that you do much worse onstage. Or am I wrong?”

“Tell him all the shit you've done onstage," you moan.

Brian shifts his hips, recalling everything he'd done during a show. Mr. Manson was right-- when he was onstage, it was as if he became a different person. A persona. Someone darker, maniacal even. Someone who's willing to do anything.

"I've fucked (y/n) onstage," he growls. "Fucked her til her tight little cunt couldn't take it anymore."

Mr. Manson takes his cock out of his pants, starts stroking it himself as you lay back on a desk in front of him. You watch his cockhead disappear in his fist with every stroke, licking your lips.

"What else?"

"I stripped her down naked in front of everyone... and ate her pussy."

"Oh god," you whine, picturing that night. You had both been so high you had forgotten there was even an audience.

"That must have felt good." Manson looks to you.

"It did. It did, and I love it," you murmur, glancing down to your exposed breasts, "Just like him. I wanna be filled by you, sir. Just like Brian fills me up."

Brian rolls his hips against the desk as Mr. Manson slots himself between your legs, dragging his cock between the folds of your pussy. "So fuckin' wet. It'll be so easy to get into you, baby girl."

"Please, Mr. Manson," you moan, “I need you.”

"Fuck her," Brian gasps out, "She's such a fucking cockslut, she needs it." You nod. Manson reaches his hand up to cup one of your breasts as he slides in, filling you to the hilt.

"Oh god," you manage out, hands grabbing at the edges of the small desk. Manson’s cock isn’t as long as Brian’s, but it’s thicker, so thick you can feel the pain of the stretch.

"Fuck," Brian whines, watching Manson pull out almost fully then pound back into you. He’s frustrated—he can’t touch himself, and his cock is heavy and weeping against the desk. He could cum from any little touch at this point.

"If you even think about touching your cock, the punishment will be unimaginable," Manson growls to your brat of a boyfriend. Brian groans in complaint, resting his head against the desk as he continues to rock his hips and watch. "Tell me more about how you fuck (y/n)," Manson says, thrusting in hard. The desk skids back a couple of inches, and you gasp. "Ah, nope. The principal could still walk by, baby girl. Don't want him to hear the three of us acting out our own little porno, do you?"

"No, sir."

"No. That's right. Mr. Warner? You were saying?"

"I fuck her all the time," Brian says, words tumbling out of his mouth as he loses his grip. "We fuck between classes, before class, after class. She always wants my dick.”

"Yeah?" Mr. Manson asks, humming low in his chest. "Seems like you just can't get satisfied baby, hm?"

"I get satisfied," you reply, grinding your hips down obscenely, "I just love his cock so much that I want it all the time. I love feeling full."

"Why don't we make good and sure you're nice and full then?" Manson beckons Brian over, not stopping his thrusts for a second. Brian’s surprised for a moment that he gets to move or do anything, but quickly complies. Manson’s belt jangles as he grunts, balls slapping your ass. "Give our baby girl a mouthful."

Your eyes light up, and Brian's lips quirk up. He loves watching you get used, and being a part of it is almost too much for him. He stands, and gets over top of your face, willing himself not to blow the minute he pushes between your pretty pink lips.

"Lemme see that nice cock, baby boy," Manson rasps. His breath hitches when Brian strokes his fist all the way up the length, over the head, and back down. "Mmm, perfect. Give her some, she looks thirsty."

"Take it, baby," Brian whispers, biting his lip as he smacks his cock against your lips, "C'mon, you know you want it."

"You know her safe word?" Manson mutters. Brian nods. You open wide for your boyfriend, and he slides his cock into your mouth, stopping before it hits the back of your throat. He raises his eyebrows down to you, and you nod again, feverishly. It's almost too much, the older man fucking you into the desk so hard and your boyfriend using your mouth to get off. But you love the thrill, and you're getting closer to your climax every second.

"You're doing so good," Mr. Manson says to you, stroking down your pelvic bone to caress your stomach, your clit, down to your inner thighs. Your hips buck. "Shhh. Taking us so good, sweetheart."

"Isn't it "so well?' You are an English teacher, right?" Brian asks, grinning. Mr. Manson shoots him a look daring to go any further with that. Brian knows his place, casting his eyes downward.

"You like to piss people off, don’t you?" Manson asks.

"Yeah. It's part of my, uh... my thing."

"Your thing right now is to quit being a smart ass, fuck your girlfriend's mouth, and do what your told."

Brian sucks his cheekbones in, biting his bottom lip hard as he feels his cock throb. "Yes, sir!" He gives a sarcastic mock salute with a big dumb grin, and that does it.

"Back over the desk."

"What?!" Brian's eyebrows furrow angrily.

"You heard me. Get back. Over. The desk. Now."

Brian whines, and removes himself from your mouth. As he's walking back over though, the fearless streak continues. He fondles Mr. Manson's bare ass as he walks by, clucking his tongue. "Damn, daddy. Great ass, for an old man."

You smirk, knowing it'll get a rise out of the teacher. But he just goes back to fucking you-- albeit much faster.

"Oh... oh yeah. Oh god," you hiss, trying still to keep it as quiet as possible. Mr. Manson's short black hair falls from his coiffed mohawk and into his eyes as he starts to get close. "I'm gonna fucking cum," you moan, tits bouncing in your bra. Manson pushes in one more time, and you cum hard on his cock, mouth falling open.

He pulls out of you when you're finished, and Brian comes over, kneeling down and taking Mr. Manson's cock into his mouth. He suckles for a few seconds, then takes him down all the way as the older man shudders, buries his fingers into your boyfriend's hair, and cums down his throat. Brian swallows, blinking up at the teacher, and Mr. Manson looks down at him, at the teenager’s painfully swollen cock resting on his thigh.

"You've been a good boy," he mumbles, “Helped daddy cum. I think you deserve something.” Brian's eyes flutter shut, and Manson strokes his cheek. With a gasp from the touch alone, Brian suddenly cums untouched all over his leg and the floor. You watch him convulse through every wave of his orgasm, then rest back on his hands when he finishes.

Manson sits on the edge of his desk, and you stand, helping Brian clean up. He runs a hand through his long black hair, and fiddles his tongue against his lip ring.

"You know... you should come check out the Spooky Kids in concert sometime."

Manson runs a hand through his hair, making sure he looks his best-- comfortably disheveled. "Your band?"

"Yeah. You were in a band yourself, weren't you?" Brian smirks.

“Yeah.”

"As long as you bring some good, uh... you know, nose candy-- gotta make the sacrificial offerings to the band-- then feel free to show up."

“He doesn’t do nose candy, bring some ring pops and lollipops and that’ll be more than sufficient,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“What makes you think I've got drugs on me anyway?" Manson deadpans. "I'm a fuckin' high school English teacher." Brian stares at the debauched man with lipstick smeared down his chin and hair standing up from all angles. Manson bursts into what can only be described as giggles. "Yeah. Well, I’m not about to give my drugs away to a group of 18 year old musicians. Then you’d turn out just like me.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Brian teases, tugging slightly at the silver skull brooch on Manson’s lapel. Manson strokes his knuckles.

“If I'm still in town, I'll see if I can make it to a show. You seem like you’d be good. Like you’ve got rock star in your blood.” It’s as if Brian’s whole body blushes—it’s freaking cute you think, as you fix your hair. “--But only if I get to come backstage with the rest of the groupies."

"Oh," you smile, approaching to fix Mr. Manson’s black tie, "We'll be waiting for you."

“Who else is in this band?” Manson asks out of curiosity. “Anyone else from this class?”

“Stephen, Scott, Jeordie. Another kid named Freddy, doesn’t go here.”

“Bier is crazy enough to be in a band, I’d believe that. Putesky, that’s interesting. He doesn’t seem the type. He seems like he’d be the type to yell at people like you to turn the music down.”

Brian nods, “Yeah, we tell him that all the time. He looks like someone’s grandpa. He shreds on the guitar, though, you’d be surprised. So does Jeordie.”

Manson huffs, getting his bag together, “Jeordie? That doesn’t surprise me as much.” The substitute teacher lets you two out of the classroom, and checks the time. 4 PM now. “Well. I hope you feel ready for the exam. I didn’t do shit to help you, but...”

“We got what we needed to,” you say, fixing your skirt with a small smile.

“Good. Cause I think you’ve got a pretty good idea of what’ll happen if you get a fuckin’ F.”

#marilyn manson #marilyn manson x reader #reader x marilyn manson #brian warner #brian hugh warner #brian warner x reader #reader x brian warner #spooky kids #spooky kids era #marilyn manson and the spooky kids #heaven upside down #heaven upside down era #mancest #by request #teacher student #teacher au

176 notes · View notes

afy2018 · 3 years

Text

Roll in the Hay *Updated* Ch. 1

A crack of bright morning light arose through the flat Canadian fields, pouring across open farmlands and flooding throughout Purgatory. The rays cut into a small homestead, breaking through the parted curtains to wake the household. It shone in her eyes, waking her before her alarm had the chance to do so, making her initially turn away from her window. The alarm blared by her head until their local radio station booted up. She sat up, turning off the white noise to begin her day, starting off with her sister. Through a thin sheen of sleep, she found her way one door over, barging into the unlocked room where her sister was still sound asleep. She kicked her mattress, watching the frame shift as she woke up.

She groaned at the rude awakening, only verbally protesting after the third kick, “HEY! Okay, I’m alive, Jesus woman.”

“It’s time to wake up,” she informed her.

“Too frickin’ early.”

“Same time as always, Wyn,” Waverly informed her.

“Still too early,” she whined.

Wynonna sighed in defeat and grabbed her jeans from the night before, yanking them on while she hobbled to the small wardrobe to grab a shirt and bra. Stretching as she made her way to the bathroom, the siblings split paths with the elder one still getting ready at her usual lackadaisical speed while Waverly went down to the kitchen to make breakfast. Even with her sister’s inability to play nice with others, she found it efficient to do most of the more menial tasks her sister chose to avoid.

She pulled out strips of venison from their icebox and onto a hot pan, where they sizzled until an enticing scent drifted down the basement where their farmhands were living. Xavier, their transporter ascended the stairs, his loud footsteps clomping against the old wooden planks until he hit the first landing.

“Smells good, need any help?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Yeah, can you go grab the milk and water from the fridge?”

“Of course, anything else, Miss Earp?”

“Yeah, can you wake up Doc, I need him to do a quick check on the goats to make sure they're okay. They were a bit loud last night.”

“Of course,” he said, walking back down.

Waverly sighed and cleared her throat, flipping the meat onto a plate before moving to the next part of their meal, English muffins. She placed them in the oven until they turned golden brown before pulling out butter and setting their food on the table with four plates. Waverly turned back around and grabbed a bowl of fruit from the window sill, to top off a healthy and nutritious breakfast.

Wynonna came back in through the kitchen door with her full report. “The blueberries look almost ready. Same as the strawberries.”

“Peaches and cherries?”

“Pfft, nowhere close. They need maybe another two weeks to be ready for picking,” she added, popping a fractured piece of bacon in her mouth. “Hot, hot.”

“Yeah, they’re fresh off the pan,” Waverly half-heartedly warned.

“Yeah, I guessed,” she playfully bit back, flicking the back of her sister’s head.

“Did we ever get a claim on the job posting?”

“I don't know… maybe,” her sister shrugged.

“Great,” she sarcastically remarked as she took her seat at the table.

“What was with the goats?”

“Already have Doc checking on them.”

“Good,” Wynonna said, looking at their breakfast displayed out on the table. “Looks great, need any help?”

“Just tell the boys breakfast is ready.”

“Yokkie-doke.”

Doc moved out of the way for the older Earp and looked at his crew. “Waverly,” he greeted, tipping his hat as he left for the barn. “Y’all can start without me.”

The other two returned from the fields, taking their places at the small table as they began to feast, taking a small share of everything their chef had prepared. Wynonna smiled and licked her lips, taking a piece of bacon then a few of the sliced nectarines and an English muffin. They continued to engorge themselves, leaving enough for Doc until the mustachioed gentleman came back, sitting down with them.

“Didn't see anything outta the ordinary. All of them are still there,” he reported.

“Okay, thank you,” Waverly replied.

“I heard we were getting a new farmhand. Any ideas?”

“We haven't gotten any applicants, yet,” she disappointedly informed them, “Due to the latest yield, Dolls, you’re moving to the arbor, Wynonna in the greenhouse, and I’ll work in the fields. Doc, you’re in charge of the grass fields until a greenhorn comes along.”

“Okay, so I’m still with the goats, right?” Doc asked

“Yeah, you remind them of their kin,” Wynonna quipped behind her glass of water, earning a sarcastic smile.

Once they had all finished, Dolls and Wynonna cleaned up while the others went off to their posts. Waverly grabbed the large baskets from the doorway and left the rest for Dolls. She went out towards the rising sun, checking the crops, seeing that her sister was right in saying that the blueberries were almost ready. She began to harvest the ripe ones, leaving behind the pink and purple berries. From that session of picking, she plucked over a hundred berries, making it now only barely over two-fifths of the projected yield so far, but good for midseason. She went back through, checking for the others she had missed.

Waverly walked over to the homestead again, continuing to the cooling room as she washed them and left them to dry. She came back inside, checking the time, three hours had passed. She sighed and washed the purple juice off of her hands, distracted until there was a firm knock on the door. Waverly walked over, thinking it was Dolls or Wyn accidentally locking themselves out. She opened the door, surprised to greet the shoulders of a tall and pale woman. Waverly looked up and met the kind brown eyes of the redheaded.

“Hi,” she quickly greeted in surprise.

“Hello ma’am, I’m here about farm work? I’m Nicole Haught.”

“Haught? Oh, sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone. Come in,” Waverly beckoned, moving out of the way.

The taller woman took off her leather jacket, holding it over her shoulder as she followed the owner inside. She looked around, smiling at the cute quaintness of the farmhouse. There were old crocheted blankets and embroidered throw pillows on the couch comfily decorating the living room. She noticed the pictures around the house. Most of them were recently taken with the owner and a few other people she suspected they worked or grew up with. They both sat down at the small dining table decorated with a simple plaid cloth where Waverly began to interview her.

“Really, I called yesterday morning? Are you Miss Wynonna Earp?” she inquired politely.

“Oh, no. I’m her sister Waverly. She must have forgotten,” she pleasantly smiled, settling into her chair. “Anyway, we plan to have you do mainly prep work for us, you know, working the grass fields for the winter. Help our goat handler, fetch water for the crops and animals. Are you planning on living here or off-site?”

“Off-site. What would my hours be, ma’am?”

“7am-5pm, 8 hours of work with two one hour breaks whenever, Monday thru Friday. Pay will be $13.60 per hour, so $1360 for your biweekly paycheck.”

“Sounds great. So, when would I begin?” she smiled, resting her arms on the table.

“Work begins in four days. We’ll need some time to file the paperwork and get it approved.”

“Okay, thank you, ma’am.”

Waverly smiled and walked off to grab the employment papers from Wynonna’s desk. She returned a moment later with them and a pen, pulling them away for a second to ask, “Wait, you’re not a murderer right?”

Nicole glanced at her in shock and sincerely answered, “Well… no, of course not, Ms. Earp.”

Waverly only smiled, making her new coworker relax, and turned the papers around for Nicole to fill out. She watched the young woman intently read the contract before signing with her neat and curly calligraphy. “Nicole Haught. Perfect,” Waverly thought.

Nicole sat up straight and gave the contract and pen back. “Thank you. You won't regret this,” she finished with a genuine smile.

“We need another girl on the team. Even better when there’s someone as muscled as you. Have you worked on a farm before?”

“Yes, I grew up on a ranch, so I worked there until I was 19,” she divulged, relaxing back into the chair as she studied the bright woman in front of her. Nicole watched as her eyes flicked from her to the contract spread out in front of her, then back up to the redhead. Her hands sorted through Nicole’s papers before she continued to ask her questions.

“What animals?”

“Horses, chickens, and geese.”

“Perfect.”

Waverly watched as the young woman stood, quickly going to let her out, opening the door with a smile. She looked outside to catch her sister gawking over the bike by the homestead. Nicole looked at her, squinting to see who it was.

“That’s Wynonna.” she introduced.

Her sister glanced up at the sound of her name and asked, “Who’s bike is this?”

“Mine,” Nicole answered.

“This. Is. Beautiful. Where’d you get this, what’s her name, how much was it?” she asked in a flurry of excitement.

“Detroit, America. Black Beauty, or Beauty. A little more than $7k US.”

“Oh my god,” she continued to gawk, “Wait, why Detroit?”

“Cheaper from the source.”

“Hmm,” Wynonna answered, looking at the shiny black bike. “Impressive. Hired.”

“Oh, I’m-”

“A little sarcasm, she’s just being a mechanophile,” Waverly interrupted.

“Oh okay,” Nicole chuckled, watching the older woman gaze at her beautiful bike. She put on her helmet and mounted it.

“See you on Monday, Ms. Earp,” Nicole winked to them, starting the bike and driving off.

“We need to file that paperwork now,” Wynonna said.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nicole woke to the low southern twang of a country singer, ringing through her deep slumber. With the paperwork filled out and her new boss’s updates, the young rancher took up her new tasks with a revitalized gusto she hadn’t felt for a long while. She needed this new job to distract her from the boring hermit tasks of the day that had recently plagued her life after she had finished her degree. Living an hour out of Purgatory, Nicole took to the kitchen, fixing a small breakfast of grits and sandwiches before finishing the other menial work like feeding her long-haired orange pain in the ass, Calamity Jane before escaping the small apartment in Calgary. As she took the early morning commute to the Earp’s homestead, Nicole couldn’t help but think about the quirky Earps and their goat farm, an animal she now could understand such a unique pair of sisters caring for.

“So the newbie starts today?” Dolls asked, wiping his mouth.

“Yup, Nicole, she seems like a hard worker,” Waverly answered.

“Will she live out here?”

“Nope, you two scared her off,” Wynonna sarcastically claimed.

Doc finished first, placing his dishes in the sink before leaving out the back to start loading up the truck. Dolls and Wynonna followed suit, leaving Waverly to clean everything up as she waited for their new worker. She looked over at the clock now showing 6:45 on the face and peered past the kitchen wall to check if Nicole had arrived yet. When she walked out of the house, Wynonna and Dolls were already going out to their posts while Waverly left for the barn to perform her menial task of checking on the goats before letting them out to pasture.

On her way back, she spotted Black Beauty racing over the hill. Checking her watch, the young Earp noted her perfect punctuality, regarding her new farmhand as she dismounted her bike and rested it right in front of the porch of the homestead. Nicole removed her helmet and set it on the ground behind Beauty, shaking out her hair to fix the short red locks as she approached her boss.

“Sorry, hi Nicole,” Waverly quickly greeted with a firm handshake.

“Good morning Ms. Earp, so, where do I start?” she politely inquired.

“Ready to work, nice. Well, the grass is perfect for cutting, so I’ll need you to do that, then stack it, please. Once you’re done, ask Doc in the barn or me in the fields behind the house if you can help. Doc takes care of the goats and around this time of year we weed out the ones that are ready for the house.”

“Okay,” she confirmed, catching the bright tone in those final morbid words.

“You know how to use a scythe right?” Waverly asked, walking towards the field

“Like, the old style?”

“Well yeah, modern made, not an old, you know, rusty one from the 1700s, but still a scythe,” Waverly awkwardly explained. She sighed with a smile and continued, “Let me show you where the tools are.”

After a few grueling hours, the field was cut and the browned grass had been layered across the ground to dry. Nicole set the scythe down and began towards the homestead to grab a drink before returning to the homestead for a bite and nip. Once inside, she spotted Waverly by the sink washing some berries.

“Ms. Earp,” she greeted with a nod.

“Haught,” the other farmer greeted.

Nicole refilled her bottle, “Just taking a quick break. Do you need help in the fields?”

“Wait, did you already finish in the grass?”

“Yes.”

“And scattered it to dry?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nicole proudly nodded.

“Fast work, well done.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“That’s really impressive for two hours,” Waverly complimented. “I was never able to do it that fast. But then again, I enjoyed washing and shearing the goats more than the ag stuff.”

Nicole nodded in agreement, “So, this is a family farm?”

“Yup. My great-great-grandpa started the farm as a side job from being a for-hire officer.”

“Wow, so why goats?”

“Small and versatile.”

“What do you mean?” Nicole asked drinking from her bottle again.

“Well, you can eat them, drink them, wear them, and work them. Cows are drinkable, edible, and wearable, but not really workable as well as they’re large and require a lot of land compared to goats.”

“When did you switch?”

“Back when Grandpa Edwin ran this homely land,” Waverly playfully informed her, “Did you grow up in the area?”

“No, I’m from the outskirts of Calgary.”

“Oh, I love Calgary!” she beamed. “It’s so beautiful and exciting!”

Nicole couldn’t help but smile at her colleague's genuine interest in her. “Yeah, a lot happens there but definitely a nice mix of rural and city life.”

“My ex-boyfriend brought me up to the zoo there. I absolutely adored the reptile exhibit.”

“Reptiles?”

“Yeah, you know, exotic creatures from around the world.”

“I always loved the aviary exhibit. They’re so beautiful. So, you’re a bit of an adventurous soul, are you ma’am?”

“Yes, well, I’ve always enjoyed traveling, but the farm keeps me grounded.” Waverly smiled and looked out at the barn before pulling her gaze back to the farmhand, “I hope I’m not prying by asking you this, but… nevermind.”

“What?” Nicole gently pressed.

“Nevermind, it’s a stupid question,” she sputtered out as she tried to cover up her mistake.

Nicole rolled her eyes and gently asked, “There’s not much that offends me, ma’am. What is it?”

Waverly awkwardly sighed and asked, “Are you… gay?”

“Well, first day and already hitting the personal questions.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have asked.”

“Yeah, you shouldn't’ve,” Nicole began screwing the top back on her water bottle, “but you did, so I’ll answer. Yes, ma’am, I am in fact gay.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

Waverly bit her lip feeling completely stupid and yet, curiosity still flared beneath the naive surface of her question. “You must get asked that often, sorry…”

“Not really.”

“I’m sorry. Um, Doc will need help in the barn, so you can help him there, I’m almost finished in the fields,” she tried to smooth things over.

“Yes, ma’am.” Nicole walked out of the cramped house to join Holliday.

She walked to the creaky building to find Doc at the doorway watching the goats as he smoked a hand-rolled cigarette, hie tilted down a bit to block the sun. He glanced up at the new worker and smiled below that dark thick mustache.

“Good morning,” he greeted in a very thick southern accent. “You must be Nicole.”

“And you’re Doc?”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he nodded as he stood up to shake her hand.

“I was wondering if you needed help.”

“For now, I just need to refill some of the water troughs. You can help me, but after that, there’s nothing else to do.”

“Okay.”

Nicole followed him to the well and began pumping water into the buckets, lugging them back to the barn as they each took turns dumping the water into the troughs. Nicole smiled again as the kids nudged into her while she walked. She laughed as she and Doc dumped water into the last trough. He was an unassuming man, Nicole pieced, and a big softy by the way he cared for the younger livestock. In the brief time of working with him, he was a gentleman, something Nicole had misjudged as being an act from his style and sound.

“Do you guys have a hay baler?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s in the back by the truck, just hook it up to the ol’ tractor and drive it to the field. Turn it on and you’ll be good to go.”

“Thank you Doc,” Nicole finished, turning on her heels to ask, “So, why Doc?”

“Just my childhood nickname,” he wistfully smiled.

Nicole smiled at his brief but predictable answer and walked back to the fields where Waverly said she would be. She looked for the young Earp amongst the bushes and approached her as she stood up.

“Hey, you need help?” Nicole called out to her.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” she absentmindedly answered. “Yeah. I mean no. Sorry. Did you finish helping Doc?”

“Yes ma’am. Now just waiting for the grass to dry before I rotate and dry it again.” Nicole watched for a moment, the awkward silence filling the void that was once full of eager interest in one another. “Would you want to join me for a lunch break, ma’am?”

“Sure, I’m finishing up on the second round of blueberries today, so I can take a short break right now. I don’t have a helmet, though,” Waverly told her. “Oh, wait, Wynonna does.”

“She has a bike, too?”

“Yeah, it’s our uncle’s.”

“Perfect. So, is there anywhere to have a nip this early in the afternoon?”

“There’s this local bar in the town center, Shorty’s,” Waverly suggested with a smile.

“Sounds great.”

“It is,” she said going off to store the berries.

Waverly quickly finished her task and joined Nicole for their thrilling adventure. Her farmhand pulled on her helmet and slapped the visor down to protect her eyes from the sun then sat still for Waverly to climb on. She tentatively put her hands on Nicole’s shoulders, then slid them to her waist as they drove off. Nicole sped to the town center, the wind whipping past their bodies as they broke through the countryside. The rolling hills looked even more majestic at high speeds, and with the cloudy day, partial shadows were cast over the grass in long streaks while low winds combed over the untamed reeds. The land flattened again as she approached the main street paved through archaic shops meant to preserve the Old West. They finally happened upon Shorty’s, hard to miss by the large sign outlined in lights, and dismounted the bike, Waverly led the way to the old bar. When they walked in, almost everyone greeted the young heir.

“You seem quite popular,” Nicole commented

“I used to work here part-time,” she explained as they found a spot at the bar.

“Barmaid?”

“Waitress because I wasn’t old enough to sell alcohol,” she explained, catching the attention of the current woman presiding over the saloon.

“Waverly, how are you, sweetie?” Gus greeted.

“I’m doing really well, could we have two of the house ale?”

“Oh, just one,” Nicole interrupted, “I’ll just have pop, thank you, ma’am.”

“No problem,” she nodded as she poured out two small glasses and slid them over to the farmers before attending to the other patrons.

“That’s Gus, she’s my aunt. Curtis and his friend, Shorty, own this place.”

“It’s nice. Is that why you’re very popular?”

“Not the only other reason why,” Gus cut in with a slight smile as she cleaned a few glasses within earshot.

“That doesn’t matter, not really,” Waverly instantly intervened.

“So, who are you?” she directed towards the new farmhand.

“I’m Nicole Haught, new to the Earp farm, ma’am,” she said with a smile.

“It’s great to see people still wanting to work there. I always told Waverly that she should have traveled, she’s a free spirit.”

“But we need to keep our feet on the ground,” she intervened again.

“You’re too smart for Purgatory, Waves. You deserve more than this town than that farm,” Gus berated, leaving to serve another customer.

Nicole looked at Waverly, head cocked to the side in curiosity. “What does she mean by not the only reason you’re popular?”

“My great-great-grandpa was Wyatt Earp. He owned that small farm and raised his family there.”

“The Wyatt Earp? I thought I recognized your last name.”

“Yup,” Waverly smile, sighing as she looked down at her drink.

“So exploring the world was on your bucket list?”

“Yeah, but it was only a dream. Have you explored outside of Canada?”

“I have and I have to say that once you explore the world, you’re excited at first, but then find that it’s not what you expected because of all of the issues you find at home you find everywhere else, just with a different mask. It’s better to learn about the world slowly so there’s always more to see, more to do, more to… feel.” Nicole said drinking from her cup.

“Wow, were you a philosophy major?” Waverly asked.

“I always enjoyed philosophy, but I actually majored in justice and law,” Nicole casually joked.

“Wow, any idea of what you’d do?”

“Become an officer, maybe, or become a detective. Though for now, I’m working on a goat farm for a charming lady and her bike-loving older sister.”

“Thank you,” Waverly bashfully accepted. “Why not go straight into the force?”

“Well, I wanted to take a while off to get settled again before I have to go to the academy.”

“Why law enforcement?”

“I wanted to be one of the good cops. I want to improve our system by seeing and experiencing how it works from the inside.”

“How noble,” Waverly carefully considered.

Nicole blushed and glanced away, drinking from her glass. “I’m glad that we have this time to talk.”

“Me too,” Waverly agreed.

They watched as the hour passed with only a few lapsing moments of silence, seemingly having forgotten about the awkward question that briefly made Nicole wish she had taken a different job. The two women walked out of the bar, mounting Beauty, and headed back to the homestead. Nicole left first to continue her work in the fields where she began to flip the grass. The hard labor proved to be more mindless than she had originally planned, spending most of the time recounting her small excursion with Waverly.

Once she finished the work, Nicole walked to the fields behind the house where Waverly said she would be and called out, “Miss Earp, would you like me to help?”

“Yes, please,” she called back. “I need to pick the strawberries now, they just all popped. You know how to pick these, right?” Waverly asked, wiping her fingers off on the red and purple-stained rag.

“Do they just fall off?”

“Not really,” she corrected, handing her a spare pair of clippers from the basket. “We pick them when they’re a bit green still and what ones that are too ripe we sell in town or keep for ourselves.”

Nicole knelt down next to her and began to pick the ripe red berries from the bush, gently dropping them into the basket. There must have been three fifty meter rows of strawberry bushes and another three rows of blueberries Waverly had picked earlier. They worked quickly and diligently, hoping to be able to rest for the remaining portion of their workday. The two women picked the berries side by side, talking as they worked.

“So, books or video games,” Waverly randomly asked.

“It depends,” she methodically began, “I like books a bit more but I also enjoy a well-written game, too.”

“Okay. What kind of books do you like to read, then?”

“I enjoy Sue Grafton or a well thought out novel about ancient history.”

“Really?” Waverly asked excitedly. “So, which ancient society do you believe really pushed the progression of man?”

Nicole smirked at her excitement and thoughtfully answered, “The Sumerians. With a very intricate religious system copied by the Babylonians and Egyptians which was copied by the Greeks and Romans, as well as a simple written system, I think that they really did aid in the formative years for mankind. What do you think, ma’am?”

“Wow,” Waverly murmured in awe of Nicole’s genuine interest and knowledge. She bit her lip and asked, “What about women in history, which do you believe was the most progressive?”

Nicole perked up an eyebrow about the subject, finding it an interesting one to compare with ancient societies. “Oh, I think either the Sumerians- again- or maybe Ancient East Africa because of the matriarchal rule in some tribes. Well, now that I think about it, definitely the Sumerians because there was a woman leader who is regarded positively and women could be equal to men if they tried unlike many cultures, ancient or modern” Waverly just looked at the young worker and smiled. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

“Yes, yeah, I’ve just never met anyone so passionate about history. Everyone here is either a local running their own shop or working on their farm, so there aren’t a lot of people who like to talk about history for fun. Usually, it’s because it’s their homework… and they’re just asking for their homework.”

“Well, I’m glad that you approve of my overall nerdiness, Ms. Earp,” Nicole sarcastically engaged.

“Gosh, I embrace it with all of my heart because I'm not the only nerdy person in town now.”

Haught continued to smile as they went back to work, feeling her employer’s eyes on her every moment or so. Whenever she caught her eye, a light blush would cover her cheeks in an instant and she would go back to her task. As they finished the final row of strawberries, Nicole glanced at her watch seeing that she still had two hours left on the clock.

She excused herself and went to retrieve the small green tractor, connecting it to their old baler. The young farmhand drove to the front of the lot and hopped out to bring the hay together in individual rows. She then got back on the tractor and slowly drove over the mounds of grass as they collected and ultimately turned into seven dense round bales. She drove the tractor back, taking everything apart when she spotted Waverly in the house beckoning her inside. Nicole approached the manor, brushing off all of the excess grass, and walked in.

“Hey, you busy?” her employer asked

“I just have to bring in the hay, but other than that, no, ma’am.”

“Just wondering. I can help you,” Waverly offered.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Nicole accepted, pulling her gloves on again as she led the way to the field.

They each grabbed a bale and walked to the barn where Doc must have been on a break as the goats meandered the fields to drink and graze, pushing through one another. The farmers dropped the bales on the ground and began traveling back and forth for the remaining ones. After the last drop off, Waverly climbed up the ladder to the storage space with other extra bales.

“What was your aunt saying about you moving on?” Nicole asked as she tossed a bale up to her.

“Well,” Waverly huffed as she caught it. “I was a history and linguistics major, nothing like Wynonna or anyone else in the family. Gus has been trying to get me on a different track ever since my dad passed away. She even helped me through college.”

“Why did you decide to stay, if you don’t mind me asking, ma’am?”

“This is my home, and when Wynonna left I took care of this place with Uncle Curtis, just to get by. I found happiness here. Peace,” Waverly simply added, catching the last bale and setting it down. “Love.”

“Ms. Waverly Earp,” she beckoned, climbing up the ladder, “why did my sexuality matter to you?” Nicole only earned a defiant sigh and she pushed herself onto the deck.

She merely looked at Nicole as she tried to put her thoughts in order as quickly as she could while the worker encroached upon her. “Close enough to touch,” she thought to herself. A foot apart, Waverly gazed up slightly to study Nicole’s features before nervously breaking their connection with a soft sigh.

“I’m not really great with words,” Waverly tried to explain away, “You know what, pretend I didn’t say anything, Nicole.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, I really don’t think that’s possible,” she bluntly stated.

Waverly bit the inside of her lip as she tried to fight off the urge to do or say anything out of line, especially when her counterpart was so formal. “Nothing, I shouldn’t have said anything,” she tried, nudging her coworker aside by the waist before she descended the ladder.

“Waverly,” she called down to her, “I apologize if I have been out of line in any way.”

“I’ve been out of line, Nicole,” the young caretaker affirmed as the barn doors opened.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Doc greeted, a fresh smoke peeking out from under his mustache.

“Hey, Doc,” Waverly quickly smiled, walking past him.

Once out of earshot, Nicole approached him to ask, “Is she usually like this?”

Doc tucked the unlit cigarette behind his ear and shrugged, “Like what?”

“Awkward.”

“I guess sometimes? The best thing to do with these Earps is to let them defuse in solitude rather than intervene,” he informed her. “Thank you for the hay.”

“No problem, Doc,” she nodded, following Waverly to the homestead.

“I mean it, Haught,” he warned her. “Leave it be.”

“I still have an hour left.”

“I have to herd the goats in if you want to help, that’ll eat up a good fifteen,” he asked, lighting the end of his tab.

#wayhaught fanfic #wayhaught #waverly earp #nicole haught #femslash #wlw #lgbt #sfw #sfwfic #wynonna Earp #AU #Farm au

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yamayamawrites · 3 years

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This December

A/N: Hi friends! Happy (almost) December! As a treat this year, I decided to write a short fic (and by short, I do mean around 40k - so not terribly short) about the Dekusquad spending a week at a winter cabin! The first chapter will officially go up on my AO3 page (you can find it here!) tomorrow, with updates coming out every Tuesday/Friday for the next 4 weeks, but I decided to post a sneak preview of chapter 1 here early!! Hope you enjoy!

Tuesday, December 01, 20XX

It’s been four years since Izuku graduated from U.A. Four years, and he’s moved three times since then – once, to an agency based in Kyoto, where he lived the longest. He worked many of the smaller cases there, the more personal ones – stopping a villain who’d kidnapped a mother’s newborn; keeping a local corner store from being robbed; catching a stray piece of scrap metal dropped from a crane near a construction site, and saving two children playing tag. He accredits most of his fame to Kyoto, and though it’s certainly not a small city, it feels small when he moves two years later to Hiroshima.

It’s in Hiroshima that Izuku takes on his first major case – ends up working beside Eijirou in the process, and both of them (already well-established and in the high twenties in hero rankings) skyrocket to the top ten after busting the case wide open. It’s a child trafficking ring, where children are abducted and sold for their Quirks. And, just following this case, he has perhaps a hundred offers to other agencies that will pay better or get more exposure. After all, Midoriya Izuku is just past twenty and he’s ranked number four, below Suneater and Lemillion from U.A., and, yet to be overthrown at number one, Endeavor. And while he still hasn’t learned Hiroshima’s roads, nor has he unpacked all his boxes yet, he uproots once more, and heads for Tokyo.

The biggest reason he leaves is because of the agency. Tokyo is crawling with them – agencies nearly on every block – but they’re small, full of sidekicks who haven’t broken one hundred yet, even. But there’s one agency in particular whose letter stands out amongst the rest, because the signature on the offer letter is his old friend Hitoshi’s, and Hitoshi knows just whose names to drop to garner Izuku’s attention – “You would be working side by side with Uravity and Ingenium, and perhaps partnering with Shouto and Ground Zero.”

And now, almost seven months since he’s become acquainted with the Tokyo agency, has climbed past Suneater in the latest ranking, he drums his fingers on Ochaco’s office door. She pops her head up from behind her monitor, still wearing her hero costume from her patrol while she types up a final report before lunch. “Oh!” she says, as though she isn’t expecting Izuku, despite the fact that they always go to lunch together on Tuesdays.

“Ready to go?” Izuku asks, hanging off Ochaco’s door, now. “Tenya coming today, too?”

“Tenya got wrapped up in a petty theft case,” Ochaco rolls her eyes. “Seriously. Who tries to steal a dozen watches in the middle of the morning?”

“People who don’t know Tenya exists?” Izuku shrugs, and Ochaco laughs, pushes herself away from her desk on her rolling chair and hops up. “I need to stop and grab my key card before we go. Hold on.”

Ochaco trails after Izuku down the hall to his office, one with arguably the best view in the building. It overlooks the rest of the city, some of the smaller agencies the size of peanuts from way up here. His door is ajar when he walks up, light still on. Along the right wall is a photograph – himself, at graduation, with Ochaco and Tenya to his left, and Shouto to his right. Behind all of them is All Might, having managed his heroic form just for the click of a camera. They all wear navy graduation gowns, though Izuku’s is unzipped and reveals his hero costume underneath. Shouto’s hair is swept back from his face, his graduation cap in his hands, and he’s actually smiling – Izuku thinks it may be the only photograph in his entire collection of pictures of Shouto where he isn’t frowning. And Ochaco and Tenya are leaning into each other, smiles bright and happy, caps on and hands clasped together.

“Can’t believe you still have this hanging in here,” Ochaco muses as she steps into the room, wandering directly to the photograph.

Izuku spares it a second glance before going to his desk and rooting through the drawers for his key card to get back into the building. “It’s my favorite,” he says with a defensive huff, and Ochaco laughs.

“It’s not a bad thing,” she says. “It’s just that my forehead looks huge in this.”

“Shut up,” Izuku chides, “you look fine. You look great, even!”

“I think you hung this one because Shouto is in it,” Ochaco jeers, because she knows it will get a reaction out of Izuku. And it does; Izuku, who had bent down to check under his desk for the key card, thuds his head on the bottom side of it when he tries to sit up too quickly.

“Th-that isn’t it!” Izuku huffs, rubbing his head. “Stop with that, you know I’m over it.”

“How come you’ve been waiting for the opportunity to work a case with him, then?” Ochaco says, and she sounds innocent, but when Izuku looks over he sees mischief in her eyes, the pure evil of a friend who’s been given explicit information to a secret crush that maybe shouldn’t have been told.

“Is it a crime to want to work alongside a friend?” Izuku says back defensively, still searching for his key card. Eventually he finds it atop a stack of reports he’s yet to take down to the accounting department – the longer he waits, the longer it’ll be until his next paycheck, but seriously, he makes way too much as it is.

“Well, no,” Ochaco says, crossing the room and perching herself on Izuku’s cluttered desk. “I mean, that’s how you ended up working here.”

“Exactly,” Izuku says as a means of ending the conversation, grabbing his wallet off his desk as well (he’d forgotten that, too, it seems) and heading for the door. Ochaco follows after him, realizes he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, and thankfully, after being best friends for almost a decade now, she respects that.

The walk down the road to their usual noodle shop is cold. The first snow hit about a week ago, and the temperature has warmed enough and cooled again since then to freeze mounds of slush at the lip of the roads. The sidewalk is clear of snow, busy despite the cold weather with people walking around downtown.

When they step inside the noodle shop, the warmth floods their cheeks and hands. They’re regulars here, and the waitress seats them as though they aren’t the number three and number sixteen heroes – after all, she gets to have this experience every Tuesday. She does, however, comment on Izuku’s latest search-and-rescue, says she’s glad someone like him was there. And it’s the comments like these that always make Izuku proud of his profession, the ones where he’s not being gushed over for his abs or his good looks (though those still make him blush); it’s the gratitude that Izuku’s presence has made a difference on the scene of a crime, or natural disaster, or whatever the occasion. It’s knowing people are glad Izuku was there.

“So,” Ochaco stretches back in her chair after she finishes her noodles. “Tenya and I have been thinking about taking a vacation.”

“Oh?” Izuku says, folding his hands in front of him on the table. He’d finished his noodles a few minutes ago.

“Yeah,” Ochaco hums, twirling her weightless chopsticks around her fingers idly while she speaks. “We were kind of thinking of inviting a few old friends from U.A. to come with.”

“Oh, so not like a romantic getaway then?” Izuku tilts his head to the side, curious. Ochaco and Tenya have been together since their second year of high school, and vacations for the just two of them aren’t anywhere near uncommon.

“More like a, um, reunion?” Ochaco says, dropping the chopsticks now. “What do you think, Izuku? Are you in?”

Izuku blanches. Somehow, even with Ochaco suggesting friends from U.A. accompany them on their vacation, he hadn’t considered that might mean him. Which is absurd, because the three of them have been best friends since high school began – they even chatted on the phone all the time when Izuku was in Kyoto and Hiroshima. “Of course,” he says after he scoops his jaw up from where it dropped, and Ochaco laughs.

“You seriously thought I wouldn’t extend the invitation to you?”

“That’s not what—”

“Come on, Deku,” she giggles, rolling her eyes. “You can’t lie to me. I know all.”

He laughs, shakes his head. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting it, sorry.”

“Well, you’re obviously the first person on the guest list. Tenya and I have already found a place, too! There’s this beautiful vacation lodge for rent on the edge of the Kiso Mountain chain.”

“That’s almost four hours from here,” Izuku says, suddenly a bit afraid of what might happen being so far from Tokyo. “What if a big villain or something finds out we’re all gone on vacation?”

“You act like our class from high school are the only competent heroes around anymore,” Ochaco rolls her eyes. “C’mon, if anything happened Suneater and Lemillion alone could take them, not to mention Nejire-chan and that wind hero guy.”

Izuku exhales, forcing himself to nod and agree. “I guess you’re right,” he sighs, his smile a tad nervous still.

“What, worried the public will forget about their favorite hero Deku after a week?” Ochaco reaches across the table and pokes at Izuku’s cheek. “Have some faith! And learn to take a vacation! Seriously, when’s the last time you took a break? Never?”

“Never,” Izuku affirms, though in the past he’s been proud of the fact; now he’s a little embarrassed. “How much would I owe you?”

But Ochaco waves off the question, and she grabs for the bill on the table – Izuku doesn’t even remember the waitress dropping it off. “You know more than any of us that money isn’t a factor,” she says, shrugging. “Tenya and I can cover it.”

“Shut up,” Izuku rolls his eyes. “You guys shouldn’t have to pay for everything. At least let me cover gas and groceries?”

It takes a bit of coaxing, but eventually Izuku convinces Ochaco to let him cover grocery costs; the two of them make plans to visit the grocery store together the night before they leave. Ochaco doesn’t reveal the guest list, nor does Izuku even think to ask about it until after they’re walking back to the office, bumping shoulders and laughing over inside jokes from their high school days. And as they ascend the staircase side by side, Izuku finally does ask, and Ochaco laughs, and that’s the most of an answer he gets.

#yamayamawrites #this december #happy holidays #mha #bnha #my hero #tododeku #iidachako #sneak peek!#ao3

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maknaesdancersrappers · 5 years

Text

devotee.

warning/s: very dark themes (stalking, non consensual voyeurism, extreme violence, mentions of blood, talks about abusive mental disorders, obsession, death threats??), explicit smut (masturbation, unprotected sex, cum play, cunnilingus)

Please read at your own discretion.

Jaehyun’s version of Devoted. (please read this first if you haven’t before reading this one)

wc: ~12k

a/n: this is a scheduled post; i should be out of town when this gets posted, so please leave me messages about your thoughts on this!! This will give a little insight on how Jaehyun’s mind works throughout the entire Devoted!AU.

disclaimer: I don’t know anything about how therapy works (uh,,, not yet??) and the actual inner workings of it all so please excuse any blunders if there are any in that aspect!!! I’m pretty sure even the professions I’m using are wrong, so I’m sorry huehuehue ;A; feel free to educate my naive ass.

Jeon Bohyuk sighs heavily, reading through the notes from his last therapy session from months ago. It was alarming how… troubled… this family was. His own father had warned him about taking on his position, but he still pursued it. Bound by extreme secrecy and a very, very hefty paycheck; Dr. Jeon can only do as he’s told and make sure none of these sessions make it out to the public.

It was quite difficult being the Jung Conglomerate’s therapist.

His father always told him, “The Jung’s come first in any situation and problem they face.”

A knock sounds on the door and Dr. Jeon tells them to let themselves in. The familiar face peeks through the door and politely smiles like he always does.

“Ah, Jaehyun. It’s been quite awhile, hasn’t it?” He greets, standing up to move from his desk to the armchair while the newcomer sits at the velvet chaise lounge like a routine.

“Good morning, doctor.” Jaehyun sighs, sinking his body against the furniture already.

Dr. Jeon notices the bandaged hand resting on his patient’s lap, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he picks up his pen and notepad. “So, how have you been since our last meeting? I was starting to think you would never come back.”

Jaehyun stares at the ceiling for a moment and Dr. Jeon notes it down while he starts to answer him, “I might not come back for awhile after this… my girlfriend, [Y/N]...”

“Yes?” Dr. Jeon looks up at him through his lashes, anticipating his following words. These sessions were because of her; or rather, how Jaehyun had become obsessed with her.

“She knows about my condition. The gist, at least. I didn’t mention the actual disorder; not yet… the timing wasn’t right.”

“And?” Dr. Jeon is continuously writing down in his notepad. “How did Ms. [Y/N] react?”

“Like you predicted, she was scared. But we compromised,” Jaehyun glances at him.

He nods his head and hums in approval, “That’s good. Did you willingly tell her or?”

“No, I got caught.” Jaehyun moves his bare hand over his bandaged one, “You told me during our last session that I should try putting some distance between us.”

It was to help - and also test - his (unhealthy) obsession with her. For years, he comes in for therapy sessions to talk about her and how he feels. Any other psychologists would have been alarmed, but given his family background, Dr. Jeon simply accepted that Jaehyun had found his trigger. What troubles him, however, was his wording. “Caught? What do you mean?”

“A break?” She stares up at him, “What do you mean?”

The suggestion was out of Jaehyun’s mouth before he could actually think it through. He stops walking, resulting her to stop as well. He pouts at her, pushing her stray strands of hair away from her face. “We barely have time for each other. We’re not breaking up, but we just… take a break from seeing each other to focus on finals and getting things done for graduation.”

She gives it a thought, “I guess you’re right… Plates are piling up and most of them have the same deadline.”

“I’d love to watch you work on them and cheer you on, but we hit a bump with our thesis.”

“Then I guess a break is really something we need, yeah? But we’re not technically breaking up, right?” She stretches her arms and hook them over his nape, playing with his soft, thick hair.

“Of course not.” He almost scowls, bringing a little giggle to bubble from her chest. “Until finals are over, there won’t be any seeing each other.”

“No booty calls.”

Jaehyun is visibly disheartened by this, but still nods, “No booty calls. No de-stressing together.”

“No dates,” She adds, “Even texts and phone calls?”

“No distractions at all.” There was regret in his words already. “I can’t walk you to your classes anymore.”

Truth be told, he didn’t have to walk her to her classes. His routes to his classes don’t even graze hers; he literally goes out of his way to walk her to her room, even though he could possibly be late (maybe even locked out) of his next subject.

“This is torture, Jaehyun, are you sure about this?”

Again, before he can think it through, he nods his head and it seals the deal.

Jaehyun barely lasted a day without her, constantly fighting the urge to find her or even send her a text. Halfway through the week, he busies himself with studies but always finds his mind wandering to what she was doing. At the end of the first week, he can’t congratulate himself; he needed to know how she was, what she was doing, where she’s been during her free time; he thinks about if she had pleasured herself with him running through her mind. He needed to see her, touch her, breathe her scent in. The picture on his nightstand isn’t enough, but he doesn’t have a choice. He’s done it before, and there’s no shame in doing it again, he’s just glad he has her photo protected between glasses to make it easier to clean later.

By the second week, he is back to his old habits. He’s keeping tabs on her; following her around when both their schedules are free. His mind is at ease knowing she’s keeping to herself without him, enjoying the company of her friends - people he actually trusts - and not paying attention to other guys.

Jaehyun remembers one of his therapy sessions; how Dr. Jeon talked about how his obsession with her was borderline unhealthy. He said that there was a high chance she wouldn’t like it and would probably leave him. The thought frightened Jaehyun; losing her was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. But she was so attractive; she might not see it, but he can. He can see every guy glancing at her when she enters a room or passes by. He can see their eyes glint with appreciation as it rakes down her entire being, how they would lick their lips like she was their next meal. It made his blood boil.

He follows her around not because he doesn’t trust her; he just doesn’t trust anybody else around her.

But her roommates just had to invite her out one Friday night.

There was a permanent frown on his face as he presses his back to the adjacent wall of her bedroom window.

“No. That’s too short.”

Without even looking, Jaehyun already knew what dress her roommate had pulled out of her closet. The image of her in that little black dress that stopped just above her thighs immediately sent a reaction to his crotch. He hated that dress because everything only he should see would be exposed to the world if she so much as lean forward; but he loved to fuck her in that dress. Easy access.

“It’s cute and sexy!”

‘Damn right, it is. But it’s also for my eyes only.’ Jaehyun presses himself more into the shadows when he spots some night joggers passing by.

“But Jae-”

“Last time I checked, you and Jaehyun are currently on break. Let your legs and ass breathe while they can. You’ve kept your best assets in pants or baggy shorts because Jaehyun doesn’t like it when guys ogle them.”

‘Fuck you, Minkyung. I’m supposed to like you more than Yebin.’

“Uhm, I don’t like being ogled by other guys, too.”

‘Oh, my poor baby, don’t worry, I’ll make sure they’ll regret even looking at you.’ He shifts a bit, adjusting his half-hard cock in his pants and peeking through her blinds. He almost let out a moan; she looked so… delicious in that dress. There’s no way a guy won’t be sparing her an appreciative once-over. He quietly leaves, careful not to make the metal stairs squeak under his feet.

Jaehyun knows where they were heading. He’s heard Yebin talking about it weeks ago. A quick taxi ride later, he’s seated at the far end of the bar. He had a tall glass of beer, watching the crowd from under his cap. Minutes later, he spots her and her roommates walking in. When she turned her head to the bar, he looks down to avoid her gaze. Giving it a few seconds, he cautiously looks back up to find her making her way to an empty booth.

“Jaehyun!” Someone pats his back and he’s lucky the music drowned out his voice before it could even reach to where she is. “I rarely see you drinking without your girl, man.”

Jaehyun sighs, pulling a face at the person who welcomed himself to the empty seat beside him.

Kim Mingyu was an ace player on the baseball team. He was on the basketball team for the first year of uni with Jaehyun, but switched sports during sophomore year.

“Yeah, we’re on a break.” Jaehyun might as well entertain him. In case he gets discovered by her or her roommates, he could always use Mingyu as an alibi. “We won’t have time for each other since we’re all graduating soon.”

“Tell me about it! We just had our very last training a while ago, so we’re celebrating here. Just tossed our bats and mitts in the back of our pick-ups and drove here.” Mingyu nods to his rowdy teammates over at the corner of the room. “I’m gonna miss baseball.”

“Not going pro?” Jaehyun takes a sip of his beer, briefly glancing over to her booth where a waiter delivered her cocktails.

Mingyu thanks the bartender after the beer he ordered was served to him. He chuckles, shaking his head to his question, “Nah, I don’t love the sport enough to have it become my profession. I’m going to try and be a model instead. What about you? You left basketball for your girlfriend. Talk about being whipped.”

“Basketball is just a hobby and another way to exercise for me. Besides, I’m taking over the family business so going pro isn’t an option.”

Jaehyun continues to converse with Mingyu, still checking up on her every now and then. He’s had three beers already that had his body buzzing and although it’s not enough to make him tipsy or drunk, he stops drinking and opted for water.

“Hey, man.” Mingyu slurs a bit, “It was great catching up with you, but I should go back to my teammates, it is our last night as a team.”

“You, too. Take care, Mingyu.” Jaehyun offers a weary smile as he watches his friend shakily stumbled back to where his team was. He moves his gaze back to her booth but panicked when he found it empty. Quickly, his eyes scan the dancing crowd and he’s quick to spot her. However, relief is nowhere in his system. There was a man eyeing her from behind and his gut already told him to make his way over.

But he was too late because from what it looks like, he had touched her. Her. His girlfriend. Jaehyun’s nostrils flared, standing up from his seat and pauses. Yebin had taken care of the situation immediately, stomping on the stranger’s foot and taking her away from him.

These were the rare moments Jaehyun could rely on Yebin. He continues to watch all three of them throw some cash onto their booth, grab their things, and make a beeline for the exit. He was sure she was going home, and he’ll check up on her in a minute, but he reckons he has something to deal with first as his eyes settled on the stranger that touched what had belonged to him.

Jaehyun stalks behind the stranger as he walks back to his car alone at the back of the vast, dimly lit parking lot. He pulls his hood over his head and lowers his cap. He recognizes Mingyu’s car and without thinking, grabs the nearest bat he could from the back and continues to walk up to the stranger.

Adrenaline was pumping through Jaehyun’s veins. He could only see red; he’s seething with anger as he raises the bat over his head. Before the stranger notices him, he strikes him; straight on the head. A pained cry leaves the man as he falls to the ground on his knees, clutching his head. The only coherent thought Jaehyun has in his head is the fact that this man had touched [Y/N] and that was enough to drive him to hit the man once, twice, thrice, not stopping even when blood is sprayed onto his face. He relents once the man is knocked unconscious.

Jaehyun’s breath is ragged, assessing what he had just done. Before anyone could catch him, he runs away with the baseball bat still in hand.

Dr. Jeon has removed his glasses and has been rubbing his eyes for a good minute after Jaehyun recounts his story. “Jaehyun.”

“He’s alive.” Jaehyun crosses his arms, retreating his attention back to the ceiling, already knowing where the warning mention of his name is going.

“Okay,” Dr. Jeon says, mostly to himself, “How did you feel about this? Let’s start with Ms. [Y/N] going out in a dress you deem ‘too short’ for her to wear out.”

“I’m not mad at her. Her friends forced her into it. [Y/N] is submissive; she gives into peer pressure most of the time.”

“So you were mad at her friends?”

Jaehyun half-heartedly shrugs his shoulders, “More annoyed. They got her into the mess, but they also saved her from it.”

“And this man,”

“Kim Iljung.” Jaehyun cuts in, covering his eyes with his unharmed hand.

“Oh, so you do know him?”

“No, his assault was broadcasted the next day on campus news.”

Dr. Jeon pauses, trying his best not to release another dismayed sigh. Not only did Jaehyun refer to this man’s assault like he hadn’t done it, he doesn’t sound remorseful at all. “Okay, this Mr. Kim Iljung… do you think he deserved to be punished like that? Were you satisfied with what had happened to him?”

Without another beat, Jaehyun nods. “Yes.”

The incident at the bar must have scared her off, Jaehyun assumes, because after classes, she goes straight home to either rest up or study. It’s been nine weeks, and yes, he knows, he counts each day he hasn’t sent her a text. He knew she was home, probably asleep, but he was out for a jog so he thought he would stop by - by her window, he means. Sneaking up the emergency stairs, he peers into her room and cusses under his breath, “Oh shit.”

She had music playing loud enough that it escapes through the closed window. She left the lights open for some reason while she lay on her bed, stripped naked, legs spread apart and fingers dancing on her clit.

Jaehyun inwardly groans, kneeling down to get a better view and hide himself in the shadows. He’s palming himself, biting down on his lower lip to prevent him from being too loud. When he sees her slip a finger in, he pushes the band of his shorts down and takes his cock out of the fly of his briefs. He’s already leaking; throbbing in his hold. For weeks, he relied only on his memories and her pictures to avoid getting blue balls.

He can explode with only a few pumps while watching her pleasure herself. Even better that she had moaned followed with a whimper of his name.

“Yes, baby that’s it.” He couldn’t stop himself from saying, furiously chasing after his high when he sees she added another finger. He can’t wait for her to come first, he’ll need to leave soon.

When her free hand goes over her breast to give it a tight grip with a soft cry with name; Jaehyun can feel his balls tightening. If only she could see him, coming undone from the sight of her masturbating with the thought of him. God, he loves her.

Unable to contain it any longer, Jaehyun comes; squirting his seed onto the window pane. A groan escapes him and he knows she must have heard it; noticing how she suddenly stops and looks around the room. He ducks away while tucking himself back into his shorts just as she looks to where he was and decides in a split second to jump down from the second floor and hide among the trash bins.

“Fuck.” He breathes, landing on his feet and ducking between the garbage cans. Looking up, he sees her poke her head out the window and looking down the emergency staircase. He holds his breath in, hoping he’s completely concealed in the shadows, releasing it only when she shivers a little and retreat back into the room. When he hears her slam the window close and draw the curtains, he waits a few more seconds before standing up, dusting himself off, and walking away as casual as possible.

“Do you think what you did was wrong? Or do you think it was okay because she’s your girlfriend?” Dr. Jeon puts his pen down for second to stretch his cramping hand.

“I don’t think anything’s wrong with it. Like you said, she’s my girlfriend.”

“But did you consider how she would have felt about it?”

Jaehyun curtly laughs, “[Y/N] is an exhibitionist. I’m sure she would have liked it.”

Dr. Jeon hums, “Even if she didn’t know you actually were?”

Jaehyun falls silent, resuming his stare off with the ceiling.

“If she would have liked it as you claim, why did you run off?”

“Because we were on break,” Jaehyun snaps, “That were the rules we set.”

“Rules you had long broken. I know these sessions are for you, Jaehyun, but if you really love Ms. [Y/N], you would consider how this would affect her own mental health in the long run.”

With a deep sigh, Jaehyun’s brows knit together, “I know.”

Finals were next week. Jaehyun found out from Johnny that [Y/N] was spending an all-nighter at the library. He had just finished reviewing for the first three exams he decided to take a night jog to destress; also excusing it to check up on her and probably watch over her if she were to walk back to her dorm in the dead of the night.

After a few laps around the university park, he makes a quick detour towards the library where he chances upon her leaving. It was about time to cool down so he slows down to a stride, stops his playlist, and follows her, leaving a good distance between the two of them.

What he didn’t expect was [Y/N] making her own detour; walking towards the gymnasium. Jaehyun is confused; it’s been hours since it was closed. How was she getting in?

He watches in amusement as she jumps the fence after a quick scan of her environment, causing him to duck behind a tree. Without hesitating, he follows after her once more. When he enters the gymnasium with the same door she had just unlocked and just barely catches her slipping into the hall that leads to the pool, he should have known where she was off to.

The sound of water sloshing and her soft moan echoes from the open door, bringing a little grin on Jaehyun’s face. He loved watching her swim. He could tell how happy she is when she swam. Before he knows it, he walks up until the edge of the pool; watching her swim down to the bottom and noting the bright red underwear set she had. He looks over to the side and sees her bag and discarded clothes.

“Oh my god! Jaehyun!” He whips his head towards her, “You scared me!”

It wasn’t his intention to be discovered, but he’s not going to let the chance of seeing her swim up close pass. He takes out his earphones and chuckles, “I’m sorry.”

She frowns at him, “How did you even know I was here?”

“I was out for a jog when I saw you jump the fence.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. When she blushes at the fact she was caught trespassing, Jaehyun squats down and smiles at her, “If anything, I should be asking you why you’re sneaking into the pool after closing time.”

Then he felt his breath hitch when she bites down on her lip, swimming over to where he stood, “The past weeks have been hard on me and I need to destress. Won’t you help me, Jae?”

He wants to say ‘yes,’ but he just stared her down, “I don’t think that’s how taking breaks from a relationship works, [Y/N].”

“We’ve made it this far, Jae. Can’t we cheat this break thing?”

Already have, babe.

“[Y/N]” He warns, although he can feel his resolve crumbling down already.

“Please, Jae. For me?” She unconsciously bats her lashes at him and he’s annoyed at himself at how he loves that.

Sighing, Jaehyun shrugs, “I don’t have my swimming trunks.”

She giggles at him, “If you haven’t noticed, I’m in my underwear.”

He watches her a little bit more and he thinks she must have thought he was hesitating, because she reaches up and unzips his jacket for him. “Do you need help or are you going to let me play by myself?”

‘Not this time, baby.’ He thinks, smirking as he rises from the ground, discarding his jacket, and peeling his shirt away.

Jaehyun pretends he doesn’t see her practically salivating when she sees his body. He pushes his running shorts down and stands in his black boxers.

She’s biting down on your lips again when he kicks his shoes off and he smirks at her before diving head first into the water. When he resurfaced, he has her trapped on the other side of the pool after swimming underneath her; trying to chase her as she playfully swim away.

Jaehyun wipes away the excess water off his face while she wraps her arms around his shoulders.

“Hi.” She whispers, laughing when he flashes her a smile as she helps push his wet hair back.

“Hi.” He breathes, grabbing onto her thighs and guiding her legs around him. “So you needed to destress?”

She nods her head, sliding the hand that pushed his hair back down the side of his face. “How are you gonna help me?”

A number of options spill through his mind as he pulls her hips closer and grinds his erection against her crotch, eliciting a cute, silent gasp from her. “I can think of a few things.”

“C-care to show me?” She stutters and Jaehyun found it so endearing that he just had to kiss her for it.

The open kiss was messy and sloppy, and it was desperate, needy, and hungry. It was absolutely carnal, especially when she claws his bare back, looking for support as she slid down his body. Jaehyun pushes her against the side of the pool for leverage while his tongue invades her mouth, stroking her own as one of his hands roughly grabs her breasts, pushing it above the water’s surface.

He watches her throw her head back and rested it against the poolside as he clumsily thumbs her hardened nipples before leaning down to trail a sloppy kiss from her cheek, to her jaw, and stopped short on the side of her neck.

Jaehyun was losing it. He needed to have her then and there; but then a high pitched whistle hurls him back to reality.

“Shame on you two, fucking in a public pool.” Deep laughter follows afterwards.

He glares over to the entrance where a group of boys watched in amusement. He can feel [Y/N] shrink into him, obviously humiliated, and he covers her body from them.

“Do you mind?” He snaps at them, defensively putting his arms around her.

“Yeah, man, we do mind.” One of them hollers, “We wanted to swim in sperm-free water.”

“Jae, let’s just go.” She whispers to him, but he doesn’t react immediately; dark eyes glaring straight to the space behind her. His breathing had slowed and became heavy with explicit images of what he could possibly do to them, if only she wasn’t present.

“Jaehyun,” She cups his cheek and makes him face her, “Baby, let’s just go.”

It takes him another second to react. He closes his eyes, ignoring the violent thoughts, and kisses her forehead. “Okay.”

The guys didn’t pay attention to them anymore as they jumped into the far end of the pool. Jaehyun helped her get out of the pool and instinctively, he checked on the guys as he got out after her. Just as he expected, one of them was checking her out while she bent over to grab her things.

“Hey!” He shouts, “I’d appreciate it if you stopped checking my girlfriend out.”

“Can’t help it, man. No wonder you can’t keep your hands off of her.” And this asshole had the gall to look at her once more in an overly appreciative manner that made his blood boil like the incident at the bar.

Jaehyun balls his fists up, trying to get the rational side of him to calm himself down.

“Jaehyun, leave him alone. It’s not worth our time, come on.” She reminds him; her words and worried tone alone was enough to calm him, but the asshole just had to interrupt.

“Do her real good, man!”

He’s seeing red again, mind completely flooded with ways on how to beat this guy up, but she’s holding onto him with a vice grip and begging softly, “Baby, please, I just want to go home.”

And he finally relents to her request. Snatching the rest of their clothing up, they both head for the locker rooms to dry up and dress before leaving the premises.

“Let me walk you home.” Jaehyun pulls her to his side after seeing her shiver. After a while, he quietly says, “I’m sorry about those dickheads.”

“It’s not your fault. Maybe it’s the universe saying we shouldn’t be cheating on taking a break.” She huddles closer to him when a breeze blew by. “But I really miss you, Jae.”

This makes him happy. He kisses the top of her head, “I miss you, too. We have a week left. I think we can hold out until then.”

“Until then? Hold out, what exactly?” She teases, spinning on her heels as they arrive at the doorstep of her dorm.

He leans down and kisses the spot between her jaw and ear. “What could have happened back in the pool and so much more in the privacy of our homes.” He purposely whispers in a deep and low tone, tickling her ear and making her pull away with a short laugh.

“I can’t wait, then.” She flirtatiously says, and he leans down to kiss her lips. “Get home safely, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for not helping you destress.” Jaehyun slightly pouts at her and she smiles at him.

“I had this time with you.” She shrugs her shoulders, “It helped.”

“You can always play with yourself again.” He chuckles under his breath, and a little louder, says, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She quietly responded.

He hopes she didn’t hear what he said as he walks away. Waiting for the sound of the dorm doors closing, he looks back to see she had already entered. She’s back in the safety of her home, but Jaehyun still feels unsettled with what had happened back at the pool.

Forget the serious case of blue balls; he’s furious; immensely angered by the guys - especially the one who basically undressed her with his eyes and wasn’t ashamed to show it. He pulls his phone out to check the time. It’s past midnight and the guys are probably still at the pool.

By the time Jaehyun returns to the gymnasium, the guys were all leaving; not even being sneaky about it. The typical troublemaking frat boys from the other side of the campus, Jaehyun thinks with a scoff. He memorizes their faces as they noisily went home before he does the same.

It takes Jaehyun a few days to find the guy who disrespected [Y/N]. He finds him smoking behind the bleachers of the soccer field all alone - perfect. He had requested for two bodyguards to accompany him just in case he had his friends with him.

The guy recognizes him when he approaches, a lazy grin growing on his face. “Hey, weren’t you that dude at the pool with the hot girl?”

Jaehyun’s fist are already balled up at his side. So the fucker remembers him because of [Y/N]? Oh, boy.

“What’s up, man? Did you need a light?” He cheers, taking his lighter out from his pocket and handed it to Jaehyun.

It disgusts him at how he thinks it’s okay to talk to him like they were long time friends.

He ignores the lighter and stares him down, “I don’t like how you looked at my girlfriend and made crude comments about her.”

The guy looks at him like he had said something stupid, snorting, “What? Aw, come on, man, don’t act like you didn’t finish elsewhere. Besides, your girlfriend? In that little red thing? I would have-”

He couldn’t finish his lewd statement because Jaehyun reels his arm back and swings a clean cut across this stranger’s face, sending him stumbling back to the floor.

“Don’t you fucking say shit about her.” Jaehyun growls, still trying to keep himself grounded and avoid sending the guy to the hospital - mostly because he’s had a good look at his face.

“Jongmin?! Yo, what’s going on here?” Four other guys show up but Jaehyun’s already taking two steps towards the closest one and throws a hard punch on their jaw.

Everything after that was a blur. The next thing he knew his bodyguards are restraining his arms and pulling him up from the ground where one of the guys were groaning, nose bleeding profusely. Jaehyun blinks at him, eyes darting to the other bodies scattered around, writhing in pain and covered in bruises.

His bodyguards are asking him if he’s okay; if he needs to go to the hospital or be escorted home. Jaehyun’s body is both numb but also buzzing with adrenaline. Did he do this by himself?

“I’m okay. Take care of them. Pay them to shut up.” He drags his thumb on the corner of his mouth where he felt something wet, pulling away to see dark red smudged across his finger.

“You weren’t aware of your actions while you were performing them?” Dr. Jeon repeats, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge.

Jaehyun shakes his head, sipping from the tea he requested before starting the session. “Like I blacked out.”

Dr. Jeon hums once again, reading over what he had jotted down. “So like with what had happened to Mr. Iljung, you believe they deserved what had happened to them?”

“Yes.”

“And you were satisfied with it?”

“Of course.”

“Despite the injury your received?” Dr. Jeon gestures to his hand and Jaehyun dryly laughs at him.

“I didn’t get this from them.”

This was the last day of finals for everyone. This was the day Jaehyun can finally have her back in his arms. She should be done with her last exam already while he still had one more to take. Ten told him that everyone was going to celebrate at the mall, so Jaehyun said he’d catch up once he finishes his exam. But he couldn’t wait at all. He rarely flexes his wealth, but if it meant being with her again, he’d do it in an instant.

His professor wasn’t so keen about letting him take the exam 30 minutes earlier; but with the reasoning that it’s better than having him taken later on that would be more suspicious and a few thousand bills slipped in, he took the exam half an hour earlier than his classmates and finished just before any of them come inside the room.

He’s buzzing with excitement, fidgeting in his seat as he had a chauffeur drive him to the mall instead of hailing a cab to save time. She must be feeling the same way, waiting for him to come to her and end the stupid break.

But when he finds her enjoying herself, laughing boisterously and poking fun at Doyoung, he was… dismayed. He knows they go way back and is very aware of Doyoung’s sexual orientation, yet jealousy nipped at him. He sees her eyes fluttering over at him and for some reason, he dodges out of view when she looks away.

Jaehyun’s heart is racing. He knows there’s no reason for him to feel this way. Maybe it’s just excitement from being able to be with her. He goes to the men’s bathroom to collect his thoughts before returning to where she was.

When he sees her and the rest walking towards a fast food joint, he cheers himself up, mischievously creeping up behind her and Doyoung, who had his arm around her shoulders, with intentions to scare her, but then he hears:

“You’re lucky I love you-”

And something came over Jaehyun that just took control of his entire being.

He grabs Doyoung by his shoulder and punches him in the face strong enough to push him to the floor, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh? Keeping her warm for me?”

“Dude, what the hell?!” Doyoung scrambles onto his feet with Ten’s help.

He tries to step forward but [Y/N] blocks him, “Jae, what is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with me? I finished my exam early and rushed here to see you, but I see him,” He juts his chin towards Doyoung, “With his arm around you.”

“What’s happening here?” A mall security guard approached your group.

“A misunderstanding, nothing we can’t handle ourselves. Sorry for the trouble.” She bows her head at him and grab Jaehyun’s arm. “Can we talk outside?”

He casts a glare at Doyoung before letting her pull him out. On the way to the exit, Jaehyun recognizes the group of boys he ‘talked’ to last week. They were laughing to themselves, only to abruptly stop when they see him and immediately bow their heads and steer clear from his path. Jaehyun could feel the power coursing through his veins at the sight.

[Y/N] spins around to face him once they were both in the parking lot, “Do you want to explain yourself for what you did back there?”

Jaehyun frowns at her; realizing the weight of his outburst, “He had his arm around you.”

“I - Jae! He is Doyoung. Kim Doyoung. My best friend since pre-school. My best friend who is asexual. You know that!”

“He can’t be asexual forever. For all we know, he’s already got a crush on you!”

She looks exasperated, “Why are you being jealous of him? He’s my best friend and will always just be my best friend.”

“He just said he loves you!”

“And I love him back, as in, platonically, which I think is what he meant!” She groans in frustration. “You’re being ridiculous!”

Jaehyun scowls at her. Can’t she see what the reason behind why he did that? “I’m being protective of my girlfriend!”

She purses her lips and stares him down, “Your girlfriend that you’re technically on a break with.”

“What?” His feels his body tense up. Finals are over, therefore the break is over, too.

“Maybe we should extend the break for a week or two.” She began to step back, but he follows.

“What?” Jaehyun repeats, eyes wide and full of worry, “Why?”

“Because, Jae,” He flinches at her tone, “I need time to get over what you just did inside to my best friend and you need time to contemplate over your actions and apologize to Doyoung.”

“(Y/N).” He whines. This can’t be happening.

“Jaehyun, please.” She crossed her arms over her chest, defensively, and this stops him in his tracks; dejectedly looking at her with pleading eyes, hoping it wavers her but she just shook her head with regret and turned away, walking to the mall front.

Jaehyun watches her, heart racing so fast and hard that he feels like he’s having a heart attack. She’s walking away from him. On her own volition. Angry. At him. He wants to be mad, too. Not at her. Not at Doyoung, but at himself. This isn’t how he’d imagine ending the break to be like. He thought he could take her out on a date, not extend the stupid thing one week longer all because he couldn’t stop himself.

There’s nothing he could do right now, except fix his mess with Doyoung. He had to let her cool off. He sees her get in a car that he presumes to be an Uber and now he feels twice as bad that he spoiled her celebration with her friends.

Jaehyun returns inside and finds Doyoung coming from the men’s bathroom. “Doyoung!”

Doyoung looks at him and immediately looks both annoyed and apprehensive as he walks up to him.

“Are you okay?”

“A little sore, but I’m not bleeding or feel like my nose is broken.”

Jaehyun sighs, “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Doyoung shifts his weight to one leg and crosses his arms, “It’s not a secret you’re obsessed with [Y/N], Jaehyun. I get that you’re possessive of her and all that, but you need to remember she’s my best friend. She’s practically a sister to me.”

“I know. I know.” He groans, massaging his temples. “I just really don’t know what came over. Look, you’re the only other guy I trust [Y/N] with. I’m more at ease when I know she’s out partying with you guys when you’re around - don’t tell Ten, I won’t hear the end of it.”

This makes Doyoung chuckle, “I feel the same way. I mean, you can get out of hand… but I think she’s safer with you than with anybody else.”

“That means a lot to me, Doyoung.” Jaehyun weakly smiles at him, “I’m really sorry again. I can take you to the hospital and pay for everything.”

“I swear, I’m okay. Let’s just have dinner with the rest.”

He shakes his head, “I’ll skip this time. [Y/N] went home already and I don’t feel good about upsetting her.”

He offers him a sympathetic smile, “Don’t stress about it. Let her cool down for a day or two and the whole thing will blow over sooner than you think.”

Jaehyun believed Doyoung, but it’s been three days and not a single peep from her. She was probably holding onto her word about extending the break for a whole, full week, but Jaehyun was at his wit’s end. He distracted himself by going to the gym, taking multiple jogs, or just simply locking himself up his room and waiting for some online activity from her.

He needed to do something.

After an afternoon run, Jaehyun picks up a cheap, old prepaid phone and returns home to shower. He pulls on a shirt and some ripped jeans, and sits on his bed while punching in her phone number on the old phone. He hesitates pressing the faded green phone icon button on the small device; he knows this is going to traumatize her. But what else can he do? He can’t just wait anymore.

He flips the phone close and tucks it into his pocket. Johnny isn’t sleeping here tonight, so Jaehyun doesn’t have to be worried about looking suspicious as he sneaks in and out of their dorm. Before he leaves, he grabs a hoodie and a mask.

It was past 8 when Jaehyun arrives at her dorm; it was dark already thanks to the sky being covered with thick clouds and the sidewalks barely illuminated by the street lamps. Her room had no light in it and Jaehyun finds it odd, but decides against walking up the emergency stairs. He takes the old phone out of his pocket and dials her number, putting the device to his ear.

It rings thrice before she picks up, her groggy voice told Jaehyun she was merely asleep. “Hello?”

Jaehyun wants to talk to her, but he keeps quiet; focusing on the background noise at her end. He hears the volume of the television soften and the distinct squeak of her couch as he assumes she was sitting up from it.

“Hello? Who is this?” She asks again, yet he still doesn’t say anything as he carefully walks up to the front of the dorm where the window of her living room was. He can make out her figure by the window; watching her walk away from it after she had hung up on him.

He’s hidden by tall shrubs as he tries to guess what she was doing inside. She didn’t open the living room lights, but the soft glow emanating from the window tells him she was in the kitchen. His own phone vibrates and he quickly checks it, seeing that she was online and liking posts and photos of their friends. He quietly monitors her activity until he sees her reacting to Taeyong’s photo.

Taeyong was his friend. He introduced them to each other and even he can’t deny how good looking the boy was. He’d normally let it pass, but she specifically used the ‘heart eyes’ react button and she only ever use that on his posts for her and never with anybody else. Jealousy is creeping back over him, momentarily disrupted by the distinct sound of Minkyung and Yebin talking loudly as they approach their dorm.

Jaehyun ducks down and waits for them to enter the building before he redials her number, pulling the hood of his jacket until it shadowed his face and putting his mask on to cover half of his face. He’s angry; he doesn’t mean to be, but it’s the only thing he can feel at the moment.

She sounded aggravated when she picked his call up, “Hello? Hello? This better not be a prank call.”

He wanted to laugh at how cute she was trying to be intimidating. He doesn’t try to hide his breathing this time, letting it barely fill the silence of his end of the call.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Jaehyun looks up and he sees her… staring at him.

Well, hello there.

He lets out a soft heave and ends the call when she starts screaming.

He quickly fleas the scene, especially hearing her roommates’ concerned shouts. As he runs away, he takes out the battery of the old phone and tosses it in the bushes when he was a good five blocks away. When he’s back at home, he’s experiencing a flurry of emotions; he’s worried about her, first and foremost, he had never heard her scream like that before. He also felt disgusted at himself for scaring her. He feels a bit antsy because what if someone had seen him? But among these, he doesn’t regret what he had done. It felt like the only way - to him, at least - for her to go back to him.

Jaehyun, like most nights, couldn’t sleep at all; but when he does, it only lasted three hours. He was fully awake by 10AM because he receives a text from Johnny asking if he wanted food. Doyoung had graciously called him thrice last night, but didn’t pick up to make it seem like he slept early and responded to his messages in faux panic when he woke up.

Johnny’s home by 11 and Jaehyun is waiting for her to text him on the couch.

“Flowers for you, good sir.” Johnny fakes an English accent as he hands the bouquet Jaehyun requested to him. “And a nice, warm continental breakfast for brunch.”

He helps him prepare their food on the coffee table, promising to pay him for the flowers.

“Hey, I heard from Ten about [Y/N]. Is she okay?” Johnny slides him the tupperware of pancakes.

“I don’t know. Doyoung says she is and her roommates are taking care of her.” Jaehyun lets out a sigh to convince Johnny how worried he was. “I wish I hadn’t slept early. I would have gone to her immediately if I knew what had happened.”

Johnny nods, “At least she wasn’t physically harmed.”

“I hope they find that fucker.” He hopes the fuck not.

After eating, Jaehyun excuses himself to get ready to visit her. In the privacy of his room, he starts to get excited. There’s a certain way he wishes the scenarios turns out. He likes to imagine that she’ll run up to him and realize how much safer she is with him. He’ll finally get to kiss her and she’ll let him take over -

Damn it.

He didn’t think he was that excited, but it’s nothing he can’t take care of. So he stands in front of her picture and takes care of himself, promising to himself that he’ll clean it up once he gets back from your place.

He’s in the shower afterwards, generously lathering himself and scrubbing away the sins he committed against her. He wants to be quick, but he also wants to take his time to prepare for her - because she would take all these extra steps for him when they would meet, why shouldn’t he do the same? He’s so excited to see her that he thinks he hears her calling out to him from his bedroom.

After he finally rinses off and dries his hair, he throws on a loose shirt and boxer shorts on. He leaves his towel over his head while he brushes his teeth and uses it to wipe his lips after spitting. As he exits his bathroom, he stops in his tracks.

Was he excited enough to hallucinate? But he was sure that was her, turned away from him in the middle of his room.

“[Y/N]?”

She gasps, spinning around to face him. He caught the briefest flash of fear in her eyes and he realizes that evidences of last night were present all around the room. He was ready to explain himself, but then she’s choking out a sob and running towards him.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He automatically wraps his arms around her, smoothing her hair down. “You’re okay. I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

He holds her tight, letting her cry out the remaining fear from the previous night; feeling just a tiny but guilty while placing kisses on her head and rubbing her back.

“Oh god,” She breathes in deeply, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.” He pulls away, tilting her face towards him. “How are you? Did you get any sleep? If I found out any sooner, I would have gone over to you.”

She shakes her head, “I couldn’t sleep properly, even though Yebin and Minkyung stayed with me.”

Doyoung must haven’t told her he’s been updating him about how she was. “Have you eaten at least? Let me cook something for you to eat.”

“I-I… Don’t leave me here.”

Jaehyun offers her a soft smile, “No one’s going to hurt you while I’m around. But if you really don’t want to stay in my room, you can come with me to the kitchen.”

He leads her to the kitchen by the hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. He makes small talk with her to get her mind off about last night, listening intently at her response while he fries some eggs and slices of pork. It didn’t take too long for him to serve it to her with some reheated rice from last night.

“Eat up, baby girl.”

“Baby girl?” She smirks, “Should I call you daddy, then?”

Jaehyun laughs, feeling his cheeks warm up. “Be careful what you wish for.” He whispers into her ear, trying to sound seductive but ends up chuckling.

He watches her eat and from time to time, letting her feed him some. His mind is daydreaming all of a sudden; this is what he wants to see in the future: feeding her meals in her shared home, keeping her safe and happy, being hers and vice versa.

“What are your plans after graduation?” He asks out of the blue.

“My plans?” She repeats after swallowing.

He nods, waiting for her to answer.

“Get a job?” She shrugs, “I haven’t thought about that at all, actually.”

“How about moving into a new apartment?”

She pauses for a moment, “I don’t know if I can afford it, but my contract for my apartment right now ends two months after graduation so I should probably look into it.”

“Well,” Jaehyun massages his nape and avoids her gaze; he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly nervous about asking, “My parents graduation gift for me is my own apartment room in downtown Seoul. I was wondering if, you know, you’d want to move in with me.”

She stares at him and he stares back, waiting. “Will your parents be okay with that? I mean, I thought you and Johnny would still be sharing an apartment.”

“He and Ten have their own plans, besides, I’m not sharing a bed with Johnny.” That makes her giggle and he lets out a short chuckle of his own, “And about my parents… they love you like their own daughter. They wouldn’t mind. I’m willing to bet they’re hoping for grandchildren in two years.”

“Woah there, big boy.” She laughs, “How about we take baby steps instead of hoping of seeing our baby take their first ones, huh?”

“Tell that to my parents.” He grumbles like a child and sees her reaching up to pinch his cheeks. His parents have always been vocal about wanting her to be the mother of their grandchildren; if only he knew how much he wishes that, too.

“Anyways, I’d love to.”

He blinks at her, breaking out of his reverie “Hm?”

“I’d love to move in with you.”

It takes a second for Jaehyun to grin at your answer and he swears it’s stretching his cheeks out too much that it almost hurts, “Really?”

She giggles at his reaction, biting down on her lower lip while she nods. “Yes, really.”

He pulls her in for multiple kisses, making her laugh in between each one. He kisses her longer and he could feel her body reacting to him already. His tongue grazes her lips and she instantly grants him access into her mouth, moaning at the sensation of his tongue sliding against hers.

His hands snake onto her thighs, roughly massaging them before pulling her tightly against his body. She clings onto him; mouths undetached as he hauls her up and takes her back to the bedroom.

Jaehyun sets her down on his bed with utmost care like she was a one of a kind piece of fine china. He pulls away from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva between their lips before it snaps as he straightened himself to remove his shirt.

He’s been waiting for this for too long.

“Oh, god.” She groans, “I can’t believe I lasted 4 months.” She palms him over his boxers with one hand while the other travelled upwards, fingers dancing across the expanse of the hard muscles of his abdomen and chest. Before she can slip her hands into his shorts, he grabs both of her wrists.

“I still owe you a destresser.” Jaehyun reminds her with a matching smirk.

She lets him undress her, his eyes darting to every newly exposed skin and dropping each of clothing articles on the floor by his feet. When she’s finally stripped off of all her clothes and underwear, he gently pushes her back until she’s lying on the bed. With a light tap on her thighs, her legs part to make room for him and it pleases him so much at how receptive she is to him.

He removes his boxers and kneels on the bed, stroking himself as he eyes her pussy. He leans down and kisses her, “I’m going to show you how much I missed you.”

“Don’t hold back.” She challenged and he playfully scoffs at her.

“When have I ever held back?”

Before she could answer, Jaehyun dips a finger into her core. A shaky sigh escapes her as he languidly moves his finger around, feeling her inner walls and how wet she was.

“Show me how much you missed me first.” He quietly says, almost begging, “Use my hand.”

She was whimpering softly while she covered his hand with her own, grinding her clit into his palm. Her fingers tapped onto his middle finger and he understood what she wanted, inserting it along with his pointer finger. He dragged them against her inner walls that caused her to softly moan.

God, she was so hot.

She lifted her hips up, hoping to get some more leverage but he flexes his middle finger and it brushes against something spongy inside her, making her gasp and dropping her weight back down to the bed.

‘Don’t worry, baby,’ Jaehyun thinks, ‘I’ll take care of you.’

With no warning, he pumps his fingers into her, curling them inside before pulling out. He knows how much she loves that and he can feel her body already starting to convulse. He continued his actions, going harder and faster, ignoring the signs of her oncoming orgasm.

She lets out a cry, grabbing onto his wrist with both hands as her body violently shook.

Not wasting any time, Jaehyun takes whatever essence of her climax his fingers collected and smears it over his cock, giving it a few more pumps before he slides it in her.

Her moan may or may not have been too loud for the neighbors to hear, but he didn’t give a fuck. His baby wants to be loud because of him and only him, then let them send noise complaints. Despite being sensitive and still high from her orgasm, he watches her trying to spread her thighs further for him.

Her pussy is sucking him in as he bottoms out in her and it’s driving him crazy.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so tight. You feel amazing.” He mumbles before he begins to thrust, slow and deep. He leans over and kisses her neck, alternating between sucking and licking every patch of skin he can get his mouth on.

“I’m going to mark you so other guys wouldn’t think twice about hitting on you, okay?” He thrusts a little too hard to punctuate his question and she groans in response.

“Yes, yes,” She gasps, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders. “I’m yours.”

He lets out an animalistic growl he didn’t know he could make, hips moving more erratically with her words. “Say that again.”

“I’m yours.” She chants, almost like a prayer.

With every repetition of her invocation, Jaehyun snaps his hips into her, gaining more speed and power. She’s all he’s ever wanted and here she is offering herself to him, willingly admitting herself to him. It’s enough to make him cum but he holds out for her.

Her body thrashed against him as he gave her a second orgasm for the night. He helps her ride it out, keeping her hips still as he shallowly pushed into Her. She clenched around him and he moans at the sensation.

“Shit, that feels so good, baby.” He rasps, throwing his head back. Too good.

“Won’t you come?” She asked with a pout.

If she only knew the power she held on him; he could explode any second now.

Miraculously, he somehow controls himself as he slows his thrusts and studies the state of her body; still shivering from her high, how his kisses on her neck have bloomed into a bouquet of purple flowers, how her breasts rose with every haggard breath. He takes one into his hand, softly palming it. “I’m getting there.”

“Is there anything you want me to do?” Her pouty lips were so tempting that it gave him an idea.

He pulls out all of a sudden and crawls until his knees are on either side of her chest. “Open up.”

Obediently, she parts her lips and sticks her tongue out a little.

He groans; she looked so innocent but lewd at the same time. Taking his cock into his hand and pumping as fast as he can, he places the tip on her tongue when beads of pre-cum ooze out.

She licks it up immediately, as if to coax him to ejaculate by running her tongue on the underside of his cock’s head.

Jaehyun is hissing out curses one after the other as he finally found the final push he needed to come. White, hot liquid shoots into her mouth and amidst of her swallowing it, the remaining cum splashes onto her cupid’s bow, cheek, and chin. He cries out in anguish when she pushes herself up to suck him dry with hollowed cheeks. As she falls back to bed, one last spurt escapes him and hits her brow.

Seeing it dribble down her eyelid, he uses his thumb to swipe it off. He tried to clean it on his sheets, but she grabs hold of his wrist and guides it to her mouth, collecting the salty substance with her tongue.

“Jesus christ, [Y/N].” Jaehyun exhales, feeling his cock twitch at the salacious scene and how her tongue swirled around his finger.

“I just missed how you tasted.” She giggles, kissing his thumb. “Still delicious.”

He combs her sweat-slicked hair and chuckles, “Well, I’m sure you taste sweeter.”

She juts out her lower lip at him, feigning innocence, “How would you know? You haven’t tasted me in months.”

“Oh?” His eyes glaze over once again, “Is that a challenge?”

“Baby,” She cooed, “It’s an invitation.”

She’s going to be the death of him, he thinks as he smirks at her. “Don’t mind if I do, then.” He trails a kiss from between her breasts down to her navel. His tongue licks her clit, lightly lapping up her juices as he moves lower. He hears her moan and feels her body reacting; encouraging him to keep going. He uses a hand to spread her lips apart and probes her entrance in slow, sensual figures of eights with his tongue.

But then he realizes that she had stopped responding to his actions, so he pulls away and looks at her. She was staring off to the side and his gaze follows hers and once he spots what had grabbed her attention, he hovers above her and places a hand on either side of her head.

“Look at me.” He commands.

“You couldn’t have…” She murmurs, looking back at you with concerned eyes.

There’s no way out of this. There’s clearly blood on that bat he keeps forgetting to dispose of. He had to explain himself.

“He touched you.” He simply states, devoid of any emotion.

“Jaehyun!” She reprimands, but he cuts her off.

“He disrespected you, [Y/N]. I wasn’t going to let that pass by!”

“How did you even know I was the bar? Were you following me?”

“I wanted to make sure you were safe!”

She pushes him off, scooting off the bed and picking out her clothes from the floor. “Well, I was! Yebin and Minkyung were there with me. We left before he could do anything else. You didn’t have to beat him up with a bat! Jesus christ! Jae! You’re wanted by campus police.”

“He got what he deserved, [Y/N].” He coolly shrugs his shoulders, grabbing his boxers and slipping them on while watching her dress.

“And what about those guys from the pool?” She suddenly looks back at him, accusingly.

“I only meant to go after the one who couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” Jaehyun admits, “But his friends came looking for him, so I had to deal with them as well.”

“You took them by your--” She shuts her eyes in frustration and disbelief.

‘Trust me, love, I didn’t think I could do it by myself’ He inwardly scoffs, staring at her intently, ‘But I did, for you.’

Suddenly, she’s staring at him with an unreadable expression. Her gaze shifts to his study table where he left his mask and burner phone on. “...w-were you the guy last night?”

Just admit it all, Jung.

“Yes. I was outside your window, too, when you masturbated.”

She gapes at him with horrified astonishment, crying, “Why?! You scared me shitless!”

“That was the point.” He almost rolled his eyes at her.

Her jaw drops, unable to formulate a proper response, nevertheless, he continues to explain himself.

“I had to scare you back to me.”

“What?!”

“I was losing you.” His voice finally breaks from the monotony and raises an octave higher. “You asked for an extension when I was at my limit. I missed you!”

“I was mad! You punched my best friend, Jaehyun! I had the right to be! And it didn't mean you were losing me. I just needed time to cool down!” She pinched the bridge of her nose. Never, in the four years, they have spent together did they argue like this. “I can’t do this.”

Jaehyun’s ears start to ring at her words.

She tries to leave but he blocks her path.

“Can’t do what?” His voice had dropped, glaring her down.

She’s visibly taken aback from his demeanor, hindering her to respond to him, so he asks again in a raised voice.

“Can’t do what, [Y/N]?!”

“Let me go, Jae. I need to go.”

“Go where? Who are you running off to, huh? Doyoung? Taeyong?”

“Why are you dragging Taeyong into this?”

Jaehyun scowls, “I saw you giving his picture a heart eyes react.”

“Oh my god!” She shouts, “Do you hear yourself right now? So I liked his new photo because I thought his new hairstyle looked good. He’s our friend, remember? Jaehyun, please, let me leave.”

“And what? Extend our break even more? I don’t think so.” He reaches for her hand, but she avoids him. “[Y/N].”

“You’re honestly scaring me right now.” She backs away until she’s pressed up against the wall. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Because I love you, [Y/N],” He steps forward, doing his very best to control himself at the moment, “Everything I do is for you. I have to protect you. If you could only see how other guys look at you, how they would undress you with their eyes - I, I can’t let them disrespect you like that. They need to know that you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“And if you really, really do love me, Jae,” Her eyes begin to tear up, “You would let me leave.”

What? Leave?

“No. W-why?” His eyebrows scrunched up in frustration “Do you want to break up?”

She’s stumbling over her words, “I’m really scared right now, Jaehyun. Just please give me time to think--”

“Answer me!” He yelled, making her flinch in her spot. The last thread that kept him sane had snapped. He traps her against the wall, “Are you thinking about breaking up with me?”

“I don’t feel safe with you right now.” She breathes.

Her words were barely audible but they rang like sirens in Jaehyun’s ears. His head keeps repeating it over and over again: she’s not safe with you.

His vision bleeds red and he already knows what’s going to happen so he steps away from her, his subconsciousness reminding him to keep her out of harm’s way. He needed to hit something and it definitely won’t be her. His eyes get wet and blurry as they searched around the room for something, and they fell on the full length mirror attached to the bathroom door. Huffing, he takes two large steps towards it and swings as hard as he can.

He thinks he hears her screams as his fist connected to the mirror, creating a large, cracked web onto it. He lets the pain throb from his knuckles, before he repeatedly punches the mirror, over and over again; smashing chunks of the glass and sending them crashing to the floor.

“Jae, stop!” He thinks she yelled that to him, but he’s unsure. He just wants to let it out.

But he feels her grabbing his arms and stopping him, “Jaehyun!”

“Go away! I don’t want to hurt you,” He spares her a tormented glance. His cheeks feel wet; he didn’t even know he was crying. “I can’t hurt you, so let me--”

He attempts to throw another punch, but she holds him back.

Both of them struggled with one another, until he nudges her away and faces her, “You hate me!” He cries.

She shakes her head in denial, but he doesn’t believe you so repeats himself.

“You hate me.”

“I never said that.” She squeaked, staring into his eyes.

“You wanted to break up.” Jaehyun grabs a fistful of his hair, shutting his eyes as tightly as he can. The voices in his head chanted his words back at him.

“I never said that, either.” He hears her whisper.

He feels you touch his face and he flinches away it at first, snapping his eyes wide open like an injured beast being cornered, but the way she looked at him made him drop his defenses.

“I’m sorry.” He chokes out, sobbing like a little boy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He repeats his apology over and over until he feels her pull him down, letting his head rest on the crook of her neck. “I can’t lose you, [Y/N]. I can’t. I just wanted to protect you.”

“You’re not gonna lose me and you won’t.” She runs one of her hands down his back while the other combed through his hair.

He pulls away, tears still flowing down his cheeks, “You’re not leaving me?”

She searches for something in his eyes, before slowly cocking her head and offering him an unsure smile as he lightheartedly points out: “I mean, I have to go home sooner or later. But I can spend the night if you want to.”

“I want you to.” He mumbles and she smiles up at him.

“Then I’ll stay the night.” She pulls him down until his forehead was touching hers. Playing with the short hairs on his nape, she whispers onto his lips, “I love you.”

He’s unsure if he should believe her, but casts his doubt away. He smiles back at her, “I love you, too.”

“Let’s get your hand cleaned up and wrapped, okay?” She kisses his cheek and leads him out the room, careful not to step on any glass shards.

As she knelt in front of him, trying not to vomit at the sight of his broken and bloody hand while fishing out the little shards of glass with a pair of tweezers, Jaehyun’s finally coming into terms the gravity of his condition.

Maybe she truly was unsafe with him; but why didn’t she run away when he had given her the chance to? He had given her a glimpse of the monster inside him, yet instead of fleeing, she stays to tame and satiate him. An immense of wave of love overcomes him; there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind that he wants her and only her for the rest of his life.

Jaehyun jerks his hand back when she attempts to remove some chunks of glass shards embedded too deep onto his knuckles with tweezers. “Ow!”

“You were literally punching the mirror 30 minutes ago! Give me your hand!” She hisses, pulling his hand back and resting it on top of the blood-stained towel on his lap.

He winced every now and then, biting his tongue when it had hurt a tad too much for him to handle.

“I think I got them all out.” She says after a while, inspecting it under the torchlight of her phone, “Uh, yeah, okay. Go wash it with warm water and come back here.”

Jaehyun quietly obeys, standing up from his seat and taking the bowl of glass shards with him.

After doing what he’s been told, he disposes of the glass shards and bloody towel. Returning to his seat, he dries his hand with a new towel.

She tends to his wound once more, dabbing it with disinfectant. “Jae, we need to talk about what happened.”

“I know.” He solemnly whispers; he had hoped this could easily blow over without the need to discuss it, but he doubts you would ever forget what had happened. “I’m… not okay.”

She patiently waits for him to continue, showing him she’s confused by his statement; looking up at him briefly before taking a roll of gauze to wrap his hand with.

“I…” He licks his lips, “I’m diagnosed with this mental disorder…”

“And how is your relationship now after you told her about your disorder?”

Jaehyun glances down at his injury; she had rebandaged it again for him today, even though he could have had a professional do it. It was a simple act of love for him. “Like it never happened.”

“Oh, then she understands then? That’s good-”

“But,” Jaehyun sits up, hunching forward and resting his forearms on his thighs to support his weight, his fingers just loosely woven together in front of him. He blankly stares at the small altar his doctor had in his office. He was a very religious man, but he oddly never pushed religion onto him during their sessions. “She seems more… careful.”

“I see.” Dr. Jeon massages his chin, “I would say it’s normal. She’s still processing it; she’ll eventually understand.”

“But when she understands, will she stay?”

His doctor frowns at him, “I can’t answer for Ms. [Y/N], Jaehyun. I personally believe you should just tell her everything; you’re founding your relationship on-”

“Lies?” He finishes for him, “I don’t like that word. Let’s call it… an altered fact. She’ll leave me if she finds out. I can tell her more details about my disorder, but anything more? I just know… she’ll leave me.”

“What makes you think-”

Jaehyun cuts him off with a leer and curt laugh, “I know she will, doctor. Don’t pretend she won’t. You know what I’ve done; how I spent years devoting myself to her like how you are with your God. You know how I felt alone and empty growing up; but then I met her; and I felt something beyond my comprehension. Like how Moses discovered the burning bush on Mount Sinai or how a dove brought back an olive branch to Noah. She had single-handedly completed me and now she’s mine. She said it herself; my goddess claimed herself to be mine. It’s only right and just I protect her in return. Isn’t that what you do? When someone disrespects your God, don’t you defend him?”

Dr. Jeon wearily watches him, but it’s nothing he hasn’t heard or seen before. Maybe that’s why he’s tempted to press one of the many panic buttons hidden around the room as discreet as he can. He knows he’ll regret it if he does it again - the Jungs can be quite unforgiving when they’re falsely accused of becoming a threat. It was paranoia and panic that pushed the button last time that brought in heavy set personnel to escort Jaehyun out with a nurse armed with a tranquilizer just in case. Jaehyun’s father was not pleased, almost threatening to terminate their exclusive contract. However, the young man in front of him wasn’t the same person that entered half an hour ago.

“I am going to do everything in my power to keep it that way - to keep her mine - and nothing,” Jaehyun stresses, “Nothing is going to stop me.”

“And if anybody gets in the way,” he clenches both his fists so tightly that blood starts to emerge from his bandages. Dr. Jeon reaches out to stop him, but Jaehyun separates his hands and stares at his palms, “I’ll kill them with my bare hands.”

a/n: yes the Jung’s therapist is SVT Wonwoo’s brother lol also i purposefully left out Jaehyun’s actual disorder out so I can discuss it in later chapters of Devoted 2 (during that joint therapy session) I’m sorry if it got a little too dark, but I promise the plot is better like this.

I hope you guys liked this! uwu

#nct smut #nct scenarios #jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenarios

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ktheist · 5 years

Text

in the absence of the light

taehyung x reader. 2k words. angst.

it started with two strangers sharing a lighter.

It was drizzling when the door swung open.

A man probably in his 20′s was covering his head with his hand as though he wouldn’t end up sick with damp clothes and dry hair. But each their own. He’d brought out pack of cigarette and fully intended to light it when he placed it between his lips and patted his body to come up naught.

Otherwise, why would he have asked you.

“Say, you wouldn’t have a lighter, would you?”

It was nice of him to ask as you took a drag of your own cigarette.

He’d mumbled out a thanks when you’d offered to light it up for him - actually, the only exchange that could pass as an offer was the click of the lighter and the fire that you’d shielded away from the wind and droplets.

He was Taehyung by the way. You murmured with your own introduction and a wave your hand. The cigarette tucked between your index and middle finger.

You spoke of many things, like how you were doing two jobs to pay for rent and how he was riding on a full scholarship and was innocently amazed because he never worked a day in his life - his parents wanted him to concentrate on his studies. It was his first year and you were halfway through yours. Architecture was his major but he had always loved music - particularly jazz. He heard they played jazz a lot here so that’s why he came here. You told him you handpicked the songs and would invite the bands for every Friday.

Then his phone rang, it’d been brief but for someone who was already brighter than the sun, he just seemed to glow when he was talking to the person at the other end.

“It’s my girlfriend, she’s here and has a sneaky suspicion I’ve snuck out for a drag or two.”

“You never get past them.” You remarked.

Taehyung became a regular who would sit at the bar and asked you about your day. That was, if he wasn’t with his group of friends or girlfriend. You could be wrong, but you thought you saw him by himself more than you did with company.

There was a wistful smile playing on his lips as the music filled the otherwise solemn pub.

“What are you doing this Thanksgiving?” He asked one day.

“Here.” You absently said while polishing shot glasses.

“You’re not going home?” It was almost innocent how he sounded surprised at your answer. “Spend it with your family?”

“Nah, I got class the next day. Besides, they pay double on holidays.”

You didn’t remember agreeing to it per se, but somehow you ended up at Taehyung’s place after work on Thanksgiving. Hugging Sooyoung, you’d passed her the bottle of - decent - wine you picked up on the way here with your recently received paycheck. When Jungkook, one of Taehyung’s friend that you figured became your friend over the time he patronized the pub, went over with his booming loud voice and bear hug.

“Look who showed up!”

The invitation was strictly no-kids which meant a heck lot of booze and borderline illegal ‘fun’. You were slightly buzzed when you took a drag of your cigarette on the door step of Taehyung’s house.

“I’m thinking of proposing to Sooyoung,” his cheeks had been pink - you weren’t sure whether it was the effect of the alcohol or the thought of marrying his significant other, “I’m gonna go buy the ring tomorrow.”

“You got any idea in mind?” Your voice had been coarse but you blame it on the shouting and laughing when Jungkook was giving Namjoon a lap dance because of some bet he lost. “What her preferences are?”

He ran a hand through his long hair, smiling cheekily and shaking his head, “can you help a friend out?”

You breathed out a half-chuckle, “what would you do without me?”

“I know.” His chuckle was more genuine, freer as he accepted the bud you passed.

Taehyung had picked the simple diamond encrusted ring that you pointed out when you went ring-hunting that day after Thanksgiving.

He’d got on one knee in front of his family and friends - of course, you were invited as well - on Christmas eve. You advised him against his idea grand rose petals and candles in the park because for one, it was cold and two, you had gotten to know enough of Sooyoung to know she would hate the extra public attention.

In some ways, you two related to each other when it came to Taehyung and his overzealous escapades.

Sooyoung literally jumped into your arms and engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug when she saw you in front of the door, “thank you.”

“What do you mean?” You pretended you didn’t know.

“We’re both aware Taehyung couldn’t have picked out a cute ring that caters to my preference without a little guidance.” She nudged your arm and winked.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

She saw the pack of cigarette's you didn’t have the time to slip back into your pockets and tsk-ed in a maternal kind of way - though your own mother would bite your head off every time she hugged you and noticed the smell of smoke on you.

She knew Taehyung had already made an escape but she was letting him off the hook tonight.

“I’m quitting.” You had lamented in a puff. “I got a job - a real job at a big shot company.”

“Holy shit. Why didn’t you tell us at dinner?” Taehyung’s eyes had lit up so bright, you almost didn’t understand how someone could be so happy for another person for landing a job you’d seen coming anyway.

“I didn’t want to steal a spotlight.” You shrugged.

“Steal the spotlight? This is the best news I’ve ever heard, you’ve been working your ass off, you deserve the job - it’s like double good things happening in one night!”

Then the answer hit not much later; that you were his friend, dare you say one of his closest.

To your surprise, Taehyung showed up to your graduation. He drove a whooping one hour to get your university. He moved away when he got a lucrative job offer - the only mode of communication you had was Instagram. And you’d only posted a story of the hall where blue caps were mostly visible.

“Oh, you have my blessing.” Your mom cooed when she realized the man with a bouquet of sunflowers and roses were walking up to you.

“Mom, that’s Taehyung.” Your tone is warning - the last thing you need is your mother making it awkward. ��He’s engaged.”

“Well, I don’t see a fiancee anywhere.”

Thankfully, your mom had kept her mouth shut, greeting and asking about his background like a mother who was mildly curious about her anti-social child’s friend.

To be fair, you had plenty of friends and went to a bunch of parties in between work and studying. You just didn’t bother to keep in touch with them after you left.

“Where’s Sooyoung? I thought you guys are together twenty-four-seven.”

Taehyung’s smile had turned sour but he quickly shook the question off, saying something about wedding preparations.

But Taehyung being Taehyung eventually spilled the predicament as he took another shot at the bar where you used to work.

“I don’t know if I’m making the right choice, you know? We’re both so young - I just started working and she’s asking why I don’t have as much time as I did for her.” It was like a broken tap, everything just poured out; his anxiousness, his hopes, his dreams, “what if it gets worse? What if work demanded more of my time and she’s left alone at the house? I don’t want to bind her like that.”

You weren’t much of a talker so you hugged him and muttered words you hoped would mean something to him.

“It’s going to work out, Tae.”

It was a minute later that you realized Kim Taehyung, the bright, shining sun out of your - his, then - circle of friends, was so terribly scared that he was breaking down in your arms.

“I’m so fucking scared, ___.”

You kept repeating those words over and over again until he stopped shaking. He’d looked up and you thought he had the prettiest brown eyes you’d seen. Someway, somehow, the lips you thought looked the softest was on yours. He tasted like cheap liquor and salmon from the dinner you had before he drove your parents to their hotel.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me-”

“Don’t mention it,” you cut him off with a wave, “I need a smoke. You got a lighter and cig? I ditched mine in my drawer when I heard my mom was coming.”

That night, you learned two things that shifted the stars in your world.

“Actually, I quit smoking six months ago.”

1) The sides you’d both revealed to each other was based off everything unhealthy in your lives - namely the packs of cigarette's you couldn’t recall how much off and 2) you realized you were losing the man you never had in the first place.

“Rise and shine, sleepy-head.”

There’s a smell of pancakes and something bitter. The two somehow came hand-in-hand. It took you five seconds to stretch body, another five to realize the other side of the bed was cold and empty, the last five was reserved for the realization that someone had waken you up.

A kiss landed on your temple as you rubbed your tired eyes, already sitting up. There’s a tray on your lap that smelled delicious - as were the other things Jungkook had conjured up in the kitchen.

“Look what came in the mail.” He waved his iPad in the air as he slipped into his side of the bed, arm touching yours.

You mumbled a ‘what?’ in between bites of the savory goodness before the answer is shoved in your face. It took you another five seconds to adjust to the light but when you trailed the cursive font, you knew this day was going to come.

Ladies and gentlemen,

You are invited to Kim Taehyung and Park Sooyoung’s wedding.

Please, RSVP at your earliest convenient.

Almost two years passed since that night. You still kept up with each other, commenting on the other’s stories but that was as far as staying in contact went.

You’d met Jungkook when you were transferred to the branch office of the company you’d been working at. As the manager of the project you were transferred to oversee, you couldn’t escape the brains of the company in collaboration with yours.

At first, it was dinner with the whole team. And then, since you were both of a leading position, you’d went to dinner as colleagues to discuss about the project. At one point, you took his invitation to his place in satire reminiscence of your younger self. Next thing you knew, the project was a success and so was your dating life - for once.

“Should we bring two presents?” You look at Jungkook who looked back at you before the both of you broke into laughter.

“Nah.”

For well-off directors, you two were pretty shady.

Sooyoung always had the warmest hugs.

“Careful, don’t break my other half.” Jungkook had commented when you were too nice to tell her you needed to breathe and possibly uncracked bones to function.

“I didn’t know you were together!” She squealed like a child who saw her favorite persons finally - as she said - together. “Tell me all about it.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I have all the time in the-” Before she could finish her sentence, one of her bridesmaids were on her side and in a blink of an eye she was whisked away to greet another seemingly important guests.

You’d danced with Namjoon for the first half before Jungkook swept in because he was ‘too bored waiting for my other half to ask me for a dance’.

“To be fair, I was dancing to one of Frozen’s soundtracks which you almost always told me to ‘go away, ___.’” You mimicked his squeaky version of Elsa’s rejection.

“Me? Never!” He had the audacity to sound flabbergasted.

You’d rolled your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder when a slow song came on. In the soft flow of the melody, your eyes met Taehyung’s who was dancing with his bride.

There’s a wistfulness in the way you both smiled at each other that brought you back to the back of the pub on that rainy day.

It’s brighter now.

check out my masterlist for other fics!

#taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenarios #bts scenarios #networkbangtan #taehyung x you #bts x reader #bts x you #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #jung #jungkook x reader #taehyung angst #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #taehyung x y/n #bts x y/n #bts imagines #taehyung imagines

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iamartemisday · 5 years

Text

Pepperony Week Day Six- Endgame Fix-It

A/N: This story is loosely based on the NGE fic, The Second Try by Jimmy Wolk.

It all came down to this.

Which was such a damn cliche, he wanted to smack himself for even thinking it. The truth was the truth, though, and Tony Stark was nothing if not honest.

Ever since New York, the chitauri, Ultron, those damn Accords, everything had led him to this moment. Right here, with infinite power at his disposal and one purple son of a bitch to kill.

"I am inevitable," Thanos said. Yeah, sure. Inevitably ugly.

Oh, he was good.

The worst part was knowing Pepper was watching. Pepper and Rhodey and Peter. At least Morgan would never have to see this, even if she would grow up in a world without him.

It had to be this way. Just one chance to save the universe. One out of fourteen million.

'It's hard being number one,' he thought, almost with a laugh.

"And I… am…" Talking hurt, moving hurt, everything hurt, but he had to say it. "Ironman."

The world stood still. Another cliche. The time between the snap and the impact felt like years. He saw it all, Morgan's birth, Pepper's face at their wedding, Rhodey carrying him, half-starved, to bed, Peter's body dissolving in his arms, space, the donut ship, so many battles, so many wars, so much chaos and loss, so much pain.

'I wish it never happened,' he thought, filling his thoughts with only Morgan, her sweet little face. He'd never see her again. 'I wish I could've watched you grow up.'

Light and energy exploded, tearing his body to pieces, and then it was over.

Tony Stark closed his eyes.

"Tony?"

He opened his eyes. He was on a jet carrier, banking left as they picked up altitude. Rhodey was next to him. At least, it looked like Rhodey. Tony had to blink a few times to be sure. This Rhodey was at least a decade younger than the one he knew. His leg braces were gone. Instead, he wore a standard military uniform.

"Hey, wake up," he said. "We're almost there."

Tony blinked. He tried to move his right arm but it was caught in a sling. "Almost… where?"

Rhodey furrowed his brow, studying Tony like a doctor. He should've known how much Tony hated that. "Home. Should only be another ten minutes."

Tony's pocket beeped. He jumped like he'd been hit with a cattle prod. Steadying himself, he reached into his pants and pulled out the clunky flip phone he used ten years ago.

It was Obadiah.

Obadiah Stane was calling him.

At the corner of the screen was the date.

"Oh my God." The phone clattered to the floor, landing on just the right button to reject the call. Tony shot to his feet, but Rhodey was faster.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"This isn't right." Tony's had snapped in every direction, seeking something, anything. He didn't even know what. There was no fire anywhere. No debris. No Thanos. "This… this can't be happening…"

"Tony, calm down." Rhodey forced him back in his seat, keeping a firm hold on his shoulders. "Look at me. You're out, okay? You're safe. We're not going back to Afghanistan ever again."

"Afghan…" Tony inhaled until his lungs ached. His heart pounded so hard, his ears hurt. The phone rang again. It was a number he didn't know, but the date was still the same.

May 3rd, 2008.

The plane landed in an airport. He couldn't remember which. The ramp descended and Rhodey supported him on the way back to solid ground. Pepper was waiting for him. Her hair up, her outfit clean, her eyes red and shiny. She looked exactly like she had the day he came home from captivity.

'Today is the day you came home from captivity,' he told himself, though he could hardly believe it.

This had to be a dying dream, one last trick from the stones to lull him off to eternal sleep. Any second now, his vision would go dark. He'd be back in the burning rubble of what should've been his second home, surrounded by the people he still, after everything, considered his friends. He'd be right back to dying for the good of the universe and hoping only to hear a certain voice one more time.

A voice which belonged to the woman standing before him, solid and real. Everything around him was real. From the tarmac to Rhodey's hand to Pepper's wet smile.

"Hey Pep," he choked, remembering his old line but unable to speak it. "I… hey…"

"Hey," she said. "Glad you're back. I hate job-hunting."

A sob tore from his throat as his knees finally gave. His body was far too light, and Pepper's knees barely buckled as he fell against her. Tony would apologize later, or maybe never. He wasn't as sorry as he should've been.

He just needed to feel her.

"This is real," he muttered, his whole body trembling. "This is real. How is this real? I didn't-"

"Maybe we should get him to the hospital." Rhodey tried to speak softly, but Tony heard every word.

"No! No hospitals." He found the strength to let Pepper go. "Please… I just want…"

'I want an American cheeseburger... and the other-'

'That's enough of that.'

'It's not what you think. I want you to call for a press conference.'

The words were in his head like a movie script. He knew how to say them, what inflictions to use. He had everything but the gumption to speak. His stomach revolted at the thought of a rice cracker, let alone greasy fast food. His bold new direction had to happen one way or another, but did he have to announce it today?

Tony looked at Pepper, all subtle signs of aging gone from her face. Her crinkle-less eyes were as wide as they'd been before Extremis. They were full of concern for him and he could barely take it.

"I just want to go home."

The Malibu house was smaller than he remembered. The roof didn't slope like he thought it did and he spent twenty minutes searching for the east wing before remembering it wouldn't be built for another two years.

Though Pepper and Rhodey both argued Tony had stood firm. He didn't need a doctor. At least, not that kind. Tony checked every database in the country for Stephen Strange and found his man in a Manhattan hospital. He was an up and coming star in the surgery world. His operations were pure artistry. People came from miles away just to have a meeting with him. He'd been interviewed on the five o'clock news last month, and it was clear he knew exactly how brilliant and important he was.

But he wasn't magic. Not yet.

Now Tony had nothing to do but stare at the upside-down door to his basement lab. The blood was rushing to his head and he should probably sit up, but every time he thought about it, all the energy he'd built up evaporated. In the corner of his eye was the piano. His mother used to play it for him, now Obie did.

He was going to have to get that evidence against Obadiah. Put him in jail for a few thousand years and maybe make it a clean process. Lying, murderous prick that he was, Tony didn't really want to kill him again.

He'd have to deal with Ivan Vanko, though. And Aldrich Killian. And HYDRA. Had to keep the Maximoffs away from those assholes. Had to find Bruce before Ross did. Had to get Steve out of the ice. Had to get Barnes out of the ice. Had to keep an eye on Peter. He'd be seven years old now, give or take.

He'd have to be Pepper's boss again. Nothing but a boss...

Tony pressed the base of his hands into his eyes, but the dull throbbing wouldn't stop. "Friday, dim the lights."

"Excuse me, sir?"

Tony sat up, searching for an intruder before the voice registered. "Uh, right. JARVIS, I… I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm saying."

"As you didn't the other three times, I'm sure."

"Watch it," Tony pointed at the control panel. "I gave you sarcasm, I can take it away."

"Of course, sir. My apologies."

Tony's smile broke. How he'd managed it at all was a mystery he'd never solve. "No, don't apologize, buddy. I uh… I wanted to tell you how much I… I mean, you do so much. You're one hell of an AI."

"I should be, sir. You designed me."

"No, not that. I mean, yes, I did, but… I just appreciate everything you've done for me, JARVIS. I wanted you to know that. I… I appreciate you and I…"

'I love you 3000.'

He'd been hearing that voice since he woke up. Seeing her face in his mind's eye. When he entered the house, he half expected her to rush out of her room and run into his arms. He would've held her and rocked her until the end of the world.

But he didn't, because Morgan Stark didn't have a room in the Malibu house.

Morgan Stark didn't exist.

He avoided that realization for so long as it chipped away at him. Her absence was a hole in his heart that would never be filled. Not until she was conceived again. If she was conceived again. The odds of getting the exact timing twice, with a ten-year window in between, were astronomical. No calculator in the world could figure that number out.

And this was real.

Tony curled into a ball and cried. He hadn't really cried in so long. The last time, Pepper held him all night and talked him through it. This time, he was alone. Pepper didn't know him as her husband and the father of her child. He was a philandering asshole who just so happened to sign her paychecks. She wouldn't be there in the morning for him to kiss awake. She wouldn't go to bed with him at night and tell him she loved him. They wouldn't eat breakfast in the morning with their little girl and talk about the day ahead.

To think, his biggest concern used to be finding the right size muffler for whatever car he was restoring.

What a piece of shit he'd been.

"Why would you do this to me?" He stared at the ceiling. Most of the stones were in space right now, so it would have to do. "You couldn't just blow Thanos and his boy band to kingdom come and kill me? That's all I asked for."

Except it wasn't.

'I wish it never happened.' He said that to himself while the power of the universe coursed through his veins. Hearing his thoughts and concluding exactly what he meant by 'it' wouldn't be difficult for an ancient force that could destroy entire universes in the blink of an eye.

"That's great," Tony mumbled, laughing even as fresh tears welled up. "Really great, guys. Remember how I also wished I could watch her grow up? Can't do that if she's never born, now can I? Did you think of that?"

"Sir, I don't mean to interrupt your… internal discussion." Tony snorted. JARVIS continued. "I've just received a message from the caretaker of your summer home in Georgia. There is a slight situation."

Tony sighed, staring at nothing. "What kind of situation?"

"Well sir, he was doing a routine inspection of the property and he found a young girl sleeping in one of the guest rooms. She's claiming it's her room and that she's your daughter."

The bottom dropped out of the world. All sounds and sights fell away. If there was ever a moment for Tony to wake up in a battlefield ready to die, it was now.

"What does she look like?" Tony waved but no holoscreens appeared. Because he hadn't put them in yet. "Did he send photos?"

"I only have the report, sir. She calls herself Morgan and reportedly will not stop asking for you. The caretaker wanted to inform you of the matter before contacting child services."

"NO!" Tony grabbed his coat. "Tell him not to call anyone, just keep her there and wait for me. And get the jet ready for takeoff. We're leaving in ten minutes."

"Sir, I-"

"Just do it, JARVIS!"

Tony broke every speed limit imaginable and possibly the laws of physics to get to the airport in under five minutes. The radio was off. His phone was under a pillow somewhere at home. He'd stopped asking questions. 'Because Infinity Stones' would just have to do.

As he boarded the plane, he took one more look at the sky. "We're not done yet."

Somewhere deep inside himself, he almost felt that buzz of heat and power.

Time for round two.

#Pepperony #pepperony week #pepperonyweek19 #Tony Stark #Pepper Potts #endgame fix it

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kookiesspacebuns · 6 years

Text

| We Need You | OT7 Oneshot

•pairing: OT7 x Female Reader

•genre: smut, fluff, PWP

•summary: It’s Friday night, and after weeks of non-stop working you finally have time to enjoy yourself. Why not spend it with 7 gorgeous men who NEED YOU more than you know?

•word count: 9.3k

•warnings: restraining, overstimulation, creampies, creampie eating, cum eating, extreme amount of orgasming (and yes, it is very possible to cum this many times and more in one night, speaking from experience), use of sex toys, orgy/gangbang, vaginal penetration, double penetration, anal, oral (f receiving), very very light dubcon, possible somnophilia? idk, mxm kissing, insinuating mxm, blindfolding, forced orgasms, did I mention lots of cum? Please feel free to let me know of any other warnings you catch :)

You walk through your apartment door and throw your keys into the glass bowl sitting on the kitchen counter.

Desperately, you slide your sweat soaked sports bra off and throw it in the hamper alongside the dirty clothes that you have been avoiding for days. The past few weeks at work have been non-stop chaos. With four groups to choreograph for in under three weeks, your schedule was packed. Typically you were given at least two weeks to choreograph for just one group.

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement. You felt completely and utterly dead to the world most nights after getting off of work.

Today was the first time you actually had some free time and energy left over to relax, instead of the usual brisk shower and sleep routine that had become your new norm.

You hear your phone vibrate in your purse and you search for it excitedly, knowing exactly who is messaging you.

JIMIN: You still coming? We miss you :,(

A huge smile spreads across your face. You text back with fast, nimble fingers, the excitement bubbling within you thinking about seeing the guys tonight. You had to sullenly reject their offer of movie night every Friday for the past month, and the absence of them in your life for such a long period of time was eating away at you.

YOU: of course!! I'll be over in an hour. I hope there's food because I'm starving!!!

JIMIN: anything for m’lady :) can't wait to see you <3

Your stomach grumbles at the thought of food, another thing that has been lacking in your life lately. The boys always feed you well whenever you visit them. They never fail to impress and cater to you, sometimes it almost feels like a competition between the seven of them. A game of ‘Who will win over Y/N this week?’.

The one who, by far, gives you the most attention is Jimin. He's the one constantly messaging you and sending little gifts to your house that always seem to arrive on the days you need them the most.

You thank whatever greater power there is for bringing these beautiful men into your lonely life and the one fateful job that changed everything a year ago. You were chosen to choreograph a song that became one of their biggest hits. If you ever had to choose, you'd take meeting these seven gorgeous men over the fat paycheck you received.

You shower, get dressed and head over to their apartment on the other side of the city. Or rather, their penthouse.

The entire elevator ride you bounce side to side in joy. It's almost unrealistic how much happiness they bring to your dull life. You'd spent the first five years of your 20’s living alone in a studio apartment. Even after you finally achieved your dream career, you still felt an empty void in your heart. It grew more every night when you'd sit alone in your home, eating and watching Netflix. It had been a dream of yours when you were younger to grow up and live on your own, but it grew tiresome and lonely very quickly.

The elevator pauses and requests the penthouse pin number, which you swiftly punch in, the code engraved in your mind after a year of visiting every other week or so. Stepping through the doors, you peer around expecting to see one of them waiting for you but the foyer was empty. You can hear distant voices and laughter through the archway as you walk towards the sound.

Their booming voices filter out of the kitchen and into the hallway in front of you. You tiptoe towards the kitchen, planning on scaring whoever is in there. Before you can round the corner, hands grab onto your waist and pull you back. You yelp out in surprise and turn into the arms of a grinning Jimin.

“Jimin!! You ruined it,” you say playfully, hitting his shoulder.

He pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping his warm arms around your torso. Your slight irritation at being caught, along with the stress of the past few weeks immediately melt away with his loving embrace. A tightness blooms in your chest. A strange feeling that has been popping up a lot the last couple of months, whenever you're around any of the boys.

“Ahhh, look who it is!” says a raspy voice behind you. One you instantly recognize as Yoongi’s.

You pull free from Jimin, giving him a small smile, before turning to face the black-haired beauty of a man. “Hi my little meow-meow,” You giggle at your new nickname for him. After seeing tons of fans calling him something similar online, you couldn't resist.

His lips turn down and his eyes glare at you. “Ahhh. Anything but that nickname please Y/N.”

You flutter your eyelids and walk around him dragging your left hand along the back of his shoulders. “Sorry lil meow-meow, it's stuck forever now.”

His muscles tense noticeably under your hand and you pull it away shyly.

“Fine.” He mumbles softly, turning to follow your passing form.

The three of you walk into the bright, white kitchen together. Hobi and Jin stand on the other side of the large island stuffing their faces with food. When they notice you enter they quickly lower their chopsticks and gulp the food down their throats.

“These two couldn't wait any longer and started eating already.” Yoongi says, gesturing towards the pair with his arm.

Hobi and Jin speak in unison. “Sorry.” “Sorry Y/N.”

“It's okay guys, really.” You place your small purse on the counter and walk around to give them each a kiss on the cheek. They both redden from the contact and you smile at their frozen facial expressions.

You knew perfectly well how you affected these men. How they stole glances at you when they thought you weren't looking. How they always seemed to fight over who gets to sit next to you whenever you sit down to eat or watch a movie. It's extremely flattering and cute, but you knew they would never act on anything more. It's too tricky for idols to get caught up with someone romantically. The thought somewhat saddens you but deep down you're grateful for one reason only. How would you choose just one out of all of them?

Reaching over Jins arms, you grab a piece of fried chicken and bite into it. You devour the cut of meat, not even realising the sensual noises leaving your throat. After throwing the bone away, you lick your fingers and notice the guys all staring at you with wide eyes.

You pause with a finger still in your mouth. “What?”

Hobi clears his throat. “Umm…..nothing. Nothing, we should go to the living room.” He walks up to you and wraps his arm around your back to guide you through the swinging kitchen doors and into the other room.

A head covered in long bleach blonde hair turns just as you enter the open floor plan dining and living room. The bright strands hang low almost covering Tae’s beautiful brown eyes. He flashes his famous boxy smile and sits up. Jungkook, sitting next to him, sits up too before turning around.

“Noona!” Jungkook exclaims, barely containing his eagerness. He pops off of the couch and runs towards you, wrapping his arms around you for your second soul-squeezing hug of the night.

You pat his hair and hug him back enthusiastically before pulling out of his embrace. If it were up to him he'd stay connected to you all night. It's happened before.

“I missed you.” He says smiling sweetly, giving you a glimpse of his bunny teeth. Your heart fills with love at the full grown man in front of you acting like a baby boy.

“How old are you again, Kookie?” You ask, sarcastically.

His cheeks flood with red. “Sorry.”

“Ah, don't be sorry. I'm just playing.” You tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, not noticing how glossed over his eyes become at the intimate display.

Taehyung, who you hadn't noticed get up from his spot on the couch, steps from behind Jungkook and hugs you quickly.

“Long time no see, Y/N.” his deep voice reverberates off of your ears, sending chills down to your toes.

“Hi Tae.” You respond shyly. For some reason, Tae was the only one you still felt shy around at times. Maybe it was his vibrating voice or his habit of staring at you intensely. You didn't know for sure.

“Go sit down Y/N. We'll bring all the food to the table.” Hobi says.

You nod and take a seat at the end of the table so that no one can fight to sit beside you like usual. Your eyes glance down the hall, searching for the missing puzzle piece.

“Where's Namjoon?” You ask.

Jimin places bowls down and sits in the chair closest to you on the left side of the table. “He's been in his studio for a while now. Jin went to tell him you're here.”

As if on cue, the two of them appear in the hallway. Namjoon catches your eyes stuck on him and he smiles widely back at you. If you were standing, you would swoon at how deep his dimples cut into his cheeks. He walks over and takes the other chair closest to you before running his large hand up and down your arm.

“Hey, Y/N.” He says in a low voice.

“Hey, Joonie.” You respond, willing your cheeks not to heat up.

The rest of the clan sits at the table and everyone digs into the delicious food while catching up on everything that's happened within the past month. You eat until you're absolutely stuffed. Your head falls back as you rub your full belly.

“Someone's full.” You hear Jin say.

You smile. “I am! Thank you guys, it was so good.” They all grin happily at your praise and start cleaning up the table. You offer to help but they don't let you even touch your own dirty plate.

While they finish cleaning you start to head over to the couch, but stop midway. On the floor where the coffee table usually is, lays a huge square mat as big as a king-sized bed. It's covered in cream colored sheets and numerous furry pillows. The makeshift bed calls your name and you have to keep yourself from letting your body run forward and flop down onto soft surface.

“You like it?” Namjoon walks around the couch and stands beside you.

“It's beautiful. When did you guys get it?”

He watches you intently. “Just the other day. We figured it'd be a good purchase, since we always fight for space on the couches. This way some of us can lay down too.”

“Ohhhh, I really like it.”

He gestures to the bed. “Go ahead.”

Your face lights up and you take a seat on the soft mattress, throwing yourself back into the fluffy pillows. The bed swallows you until you feel completely relaxed and at ease, so much so you almost fall asleep. Your eyes pop open when you remember that you came over to watch a movie, not sleep.

All of the boys, besides Namjoon, are standing behind the couch watching you quietly. You pull your shorts down that have ridden up your legs and sit up onto your forearms.

“Well, aren't we going to watch a movie?” You ask, feigning obliviousness at the heated looks all centered on you. Pushing the tingling feeling in your lower belly down, you pat the bed on either side of you, signalling them to join you.

Yoongi and Jin are the first to move from behind the couch and sit on either side of you. Jungkook follows and lays himself at the foot of the bed, facing the TV. Taehyung puts the movie on and takes a seat on the couch next to Namjoon, while Jimin sits in an armchair to the right of you and Hobi occupies the empty end of the wrap-around sofa.

You notice a black shopping bag sitting on the end table next to Jimin. “What's in the bag?” You ask, hoping it's maybe candy for the movie.

Everyone turns to look at you quickly, concern and nervousness clearly showing on their surprised faces.

“Umm,” Jimin speaks softly, “It's just a bag for trash.”

You look around the spotless room and wonder what trash they plan on filling the bag with. They all notice your curiosity and start talking about the movie playing on the big screen in front of them, effectively distracting you.

You try your hardest to keep your eyes open throughout the movie, but they close every few minutes in defeat before opening again and trying to make out the colorful figures on the TV. The fingers massaging your scalp sure weren't helping either. Eventually, you give in and focus on the feeling of Yoongi's fingers in your hair, quickly falling asleep.

The mattress moving pulls you out of your sleep. The first thing you see is Namjoon crouched and hovering over your face. Hands grab onto both of your arms and pin them gently to the bed. The sudden feeling of being restrained has you wide awake and glancing around.

Yoongi is holding your left wrist down while Jin has your right. Your brows furrow as you glance back and forth between the two. Glancing down towards the foot of the bed, you see the other four boys and you mentally panic, thinking they are going to tickle you while holding you down. They know how torturous it is to you, yet they always end up doing it anyway just to hear you begging for them to stop.

You can't control the giggle that leaves your lips and the way your legs retract away from the boys at the end of the bed.

“No.” You say, giggling already. “Please no tickling. I can't take it.”

Taehyung and Hobi look at each other and smile mischievously before lunging for your bent legs. Tae grabs your left leg and Hobi gets the other one. They pin them to the soft mattress and rub their warm hands up and down either leg slowly.

Your heart beats faster at the serious expressions covering their faces. Heat pools in your lower belly unwillingly at their soft touches and quiet glares. When Jimin pats Jungkook’s leg, making him crawl in between your own spread legs, you realize that they probably aren't trying to tickle you.

“Wh-what are you guys doing?” Your eyes take in all of them sitting around you on the big bed and you try and pull away from them to no avail.

Namjoon slides his hand down the side of your face, cups your jaw and pulls your head back flat so that you're looking directly up at him. You watch his pink lips open.

“It's okay, Y/N. We want to make you feel good.” He says, sliding his thumb over my pouty lips.

“I-I uhh I don't understand.” You stutter.

The various hands pinning you down begin to move, massaging your tense limbs. The heat building up in your belly drops lower into your core at the dirty thoughts flashing through your mind.

“You always do things for us Noona, now we want to repay you.” Namjoon coos.

Your mouth hangs open and surprise takes over your features as you ponder the words that just left his mouth. Your gaze turns to Jin who is looking at you lovingly while rubbing circles on the inside of your elbow.

Lifting your head you see the rest of the boys staring at you with unabashed lust. Sexual tension thickens the cool air surrounding you, sending waves of heat to the crease in between your thighs. You can't believe what's happening.

Jungkook sits solemnly on his knees between your restrained legs, glancing back and forth nervously between your shocked face and clothed crotch. He licks his lips and notices you watching him take in your delicate form. Pink color paints his smooth cheeks.

Jimin leans across to him and whispers into Jungkook’s ear, whatever was said makes his eyes widen and drop down to your shorts again.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat. “You guys….I don't kno-"

Jins soothing voice cuts you off. “Y/N, don't think too much. We see you overworking yourself lately. We want to help you relax and show you how much we love you.”

Your heart constricts, pounding harshly behind your ribcage. LOVE? You knew that they loved you, but the way that Jin said it made it sound more intimate. Like ‘in love’.

A hand running up your inner thigh distracts you from the panicky stream of thoughts that had been brought on by Jin’s words. Tae brushes his hand past your shorts and hooks his fingers under the waistband. Your breathing becomes erratic, your chest visibly working overtime to keep you from fainting.

Jimin’s low, sultry voice interrupts your breathing spell. “Pull her shorts off Kookie.”

Inhaling sharply, you watch Kookie hesitantly lean forward to grab the other side of your shorts. With the help of Tae he pulls them down your legs. He groans when his eyes land on your panties. You know he must be seeing how wet you are, literally leaking in anticipation.

You have a fleeting thought. How weird it is that you feel excited instead of wary about what is happening? Deep down you always were attracted to all of them. You'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't had a few wet dreams about them throughout the past year of knowing them. Those memories that you had carefully and begrudgingly locked away come back to you now in a flash.

Tae’s loud voice in the still room causes you to jump. “Take off her panties.”

With eyes wide you watch as Jungkook visibly swallows and shakes his head. Namjoon brushes some of your hair out of your face, making you look back up into his beautiful face.

You hear rustling and shift your gaze in the direction of the noise. Jimin is pulling a long white object out of the black bag you had seen earlier. Your channel clenches subconsciously and you hold back all the noises begging to escape your throat. In his hand he holds a white wand. The famous hitachi vibrating wand.

With surprise in your eyes, you look up at Namjoon to see him smirking slightly.

“We told you we're gonna make you feel good.” He says petting your hair back.

Jimin turns on the wand and the subtle vibrating noise makes your hair stand on end. He places it in Jungkook's hand and pats him on the upper arm, as if encouraging him.

Jungkook moves it closer to your core but stops mere inches away. Your toes curl in anticipation as you watch his shaking hand hold the toy close to you. You can practically feel the vibration through the air.

“It's okay.” Namjoon says. “Jungkook, look how wet she is for you.”

Your pussy constricts around nothing and your hips lift slightly, begging for the contact already. He places the wand directly on top of your clit, through your panties, making you inhale through your teeth and close your eyes. The vibrations roll through your body, heating every part of it. You can't believe how close you feel already.

Before you get a chance to open your eyes again you feel something soft slip around your head. You tilt your head back in question.

“Don't worry Y/N.” Namjoon whispers into your ear, leaving a soft kiss beneath it.

Out of fear of sounding needy, you hold back all noises threatening to spill out of your mouth. The building sensation between your legs becomes even stronger with the blindfold now in place. Naturally, all of your other senses are heightened and you notice a soft hand, you assume to be Yoongi's, caressing your belly.

Jungkook presses the vibrator harder into you and a moan escapes from your hold. The thought of your innocent Kookie doing such a dirty thing to you is bringing your orgasm on fast. Groaning gutturally, you try and snap your legs shut to relieve the intense waves of pleasure running through you. The boys hold your legs steady, you can't move them even a single inch now.

A sudden craving to hear Jungkook's voice has you calling out to him.

“Kookie…” his name falls from your lips.

He moans quietly. “Noona.”

His sweet voice snaps the band and sends you over the edge. Your hips thrust up against the vibrating wand as you ride out your first orgasm.

Your head is to the side, lips open, panting, when Namjoon lifts up your blindfold into your forehead. Peering down at Jungkook under low-lidded eyes has you gasping.

He palms his straining hard on through his pants with his head thrown back and eyes closed. You look away, the sight of him like that is too much.

Taehyung crawls over your leg to sit behind Jungkook. He touches Jungkook's back and speaks into his neck. “Hold her leg down.” He commands.

Despite just cumming hard, you feel the heat return in one huge wave at seeing Tae kneel in front of you. He stares at you intensely as he massages your inner thighs with his slim hands. His eyes burn into yours, as if asserting dominance.

Namjoon lowers the blindfold back into place, obstructing your view of Tae.

His hand rubs against your covered mound, applying just enough pressure to have you gasping and rolling your head side to side.

Some of the guys talk softly, but you don’t comprehend the words being said, being too distracted by Tae’s moving hand.

Within seconds his hand is gone from your core and your panties are pulled swiftly down your legs. The mechanical noise of the wand reaches your ears just as it's placed against your bare slit.

“AHHH.” You screech out.

Taehyung chuckles and slides two of his long, slim fingers inside of your slick opening.

“TAE-AHHH.” You whine.

He grumbles and curls his fingers inside of you repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. Warmth runs through your veins at the feeling of both his fingers and the toy pleasuring you. His curling digits are what makes you come undone. You eagerly push against his fingers as the second orgasm takes you over.

His deep voice pushes the ecstasy farther. “Mmmmmm.” He moans.

Hobi grips your right leg harder. “I want to taste her so bad.” He says almost whining, making your heart drop into your stomach.

Noise fills your ears as all of the boys respond with grunts and sounds of agreement. You've never felt so wanted in your life.

“You'll have to wait your turn, hyung.” Jimin says as he takes Taehyung’s place between your legs. His thick thighs press against yours, spreading them further apart. He runs his hands up your torso, to your neck where he caresses you before leaning down and whispering next to your ear.

“I've been wanting to do this for so long.” He whispers.

Your back arches into him and your mouth parts, expecting him to kiss you. He rubs his soft cheek against yours and giggles. You whimper when he sits up without kissing you and moves down your legs.

Jungkook and Tae lift your legs and bend them so that jimin has more room to lay down. A wet heat runs along your slit and you cry out. Jimin moves his tongue up and down your slit, dipping into each fold teasingly. Static fills your brain at the feel of his long tongue lavishing you from top to bottom.

Out of all of the members, Jimin is the one you were closest with, and to have him eating you out makes you feel extremely naughty.

You groan and try to pull away from the boys restraining you when Jimin’s lips wrap around your clit. His soft suckling on your nub has you moaning and begging.

“Please.” You whimper.

“Please what, baby?” Yoongi speaks.

“Please…..I want to...touch him.”

Jimin groans against your wetness and you cry out again, breathlessly.

Yoongi grazes his hand up your arm before letting go of it. Immediately, you reach down and lace your fingers through Jimin’s thick hair. The feeling of your hand on his head encourages him, making him move his mouth on you more roughly.

He teases his tongue inside of your entrance, dipping in halfway and retracting many times before returning to your swollen clit. His finger slips inside of you as his mouth continues to torture your abused bud until you cum forcefully all over his face. You imagine your juices leaking down his face.

“Let me see.” You beg shyly.

Namjoon caresses your jaw as Yoongi grabs your free arm again.

“Sorry babe, not yet.” Namjoon says morosely.

Through your heavy breathing you hear Hobi. “My turn baby girl.”

He switches places with Jimin and immediately places his mouth on your oversensitive slit.

Your legs tense up as you scream. “HOBI-AHHH!”

His sinful lips curve into a smile against you. “Yes beautiful?”

“I can't!” You breath out, panting heavily.

The feeling attacking your lower belly feels too intense, so close after your third orgasm. You wonder how you're going to survive four more.

“You can do it baby,” his voice muffled, pressed against your weeping pussy, “You taste so amazing.” You moan louder than ever as Hobi attacks you with his whole mouth.

His lips suckle on your feminine lips lovingly, then move up to nuzzle against your throbbing clit. You break out into a light sweat when he starts sucking on you harshly. The sensations swirling within you make you cry in painful pleasure as the familiar path to oblivion shows itself again.

“I can't wait to be inside of you.”

You scream as his words tumble you over the cliff into your fourth orgasm of the night.

A stream of curses fall from your lips as he licks you roughly through your climax.

“Yes Baby, yes!” he groans against your aching pussy.

Your toes curl at the new pleasure invading your body and your head thrashes back against Namjoon’s thighs. Namjoon brushes your sweat soaked hair out of your face, once again.

The curses that leave Hobo’s mouth surprise you, bringing you out of your post orgasm bliss fast. Hobi never curses.

Yoongi leans over and places his pouty lips on your cheek. He kisses down to your neck then up the underside of your jaw before finally pressing his lips to yours gently. The intimate action catches you off guard, especially from Yoongi.

His grip on your arm falters, allowing you to reach up and drape your fingers around his neck, pulling him in closer and deepening the kiss. His hand soon finds its way between your legs. He reaches between your bodies and inserts two fingers into your channel while still keeping contact with your lips.

You sigh into his mouth at his light, gentle probing fingers, the contrast feeling amazing. Your tongues dance endlessly, savoring in each other's taste. Your hips start rocking of their own accord onto his torturously slow moving hand. Surprisingly, your body is ready for more.

He pulls away from your lips and places his forehead on yours. “You need more baby?” He coos while continuing his achingly slow rhythm.

“Yes, Yoongi.” You breathe.

He sits up and presses the vibrator against your swollen, abused clit. Your back arches as you pant open-mouthed into the still air. It's unbelievable how fast you feel it coming. The softness Yoongi showed you did wonders in calming you down, yet keeping you ready and reeling at the same time.

It doesn't take long before you're cumming and saying Yoongi’s name under your breath repeatedly. As the bliss dissipates, another kiss is pressed to your lips.

“Beautiful.” He says lovingly. Your heart swells three times it's capacity.

You lay in silence for minutes, working on returning your erratic breathing back to normal and organizing the demanding thoughts begging for attention in your mind. You don't move from your spot, even though your limbs now lay on either side of you freely on the bed. They had all backed away and were now talking quietly with each other. The rumble of their different tones soothes you….until you realize that there are still two of them who haven't touched you yet.

Your eyes flicker open instinctively, underneath the blindfold, when fingers drag down the side of your face. You have no idea who is currently taking the spot between your legs and your heart begins to race again at the excitement of it.

Reaching down hesitantly, you find their bare thighs and run your fingers up until you feel their slim torso. His name immediately pops into your head.

“Jin.” You whisper, biting your bottom lip shyly.

He laughs softly and slides his fingers into you suddenly, causing you to jerk up the bed and release a shrill moan.

“Sorry, I couldn't wait any longer.” He says, his voice letting you know he's smiling. His fingers slide in and out of you roughly as his thumb draws hard circles into your nub. Your bottom begins to move up and down, riding his beckoning fingers.

You grab onto his arm connected to the hand fingering you and feel the fine hair run under your palm as his arm moves. With your other arm you feel around the mattress beside you, searching for the rest of the boys, but only come in contact with pillows.

“Whe-”

He cuts you off, “They are all here, watching you writhe for me.” His fingers curl inside of you as he says 'writhe’.

Moaning loudly, you throw your head to the side. It's then you pick up a wet, smacking sound that doesn't match the rhythm of Jin's hand. The others are….

“They were just as impatient as me. If only you could see them touching themselves right now.” Jins says, a devilish tinge to his voice.

Quickly, you reach up to remove the blindfold, but Jin catches your hand before you can slide it off.

He tsks. “Not yet, love.”

Just then the vibrator is pressed into you again, but this time feels different. Your insides are tight and sore from how many times you've come tonight, but the ache is still a delicious sensation overtaking you. You feel like you're going to explode from the new feelings spreading throughout your body. Your limbs tremble and shake, along with your voice.

“Ahhhhhhh...so-” The band tightens in your belly mid-sentence. “Fuck!.”

Jin grunts. “Come for me baby.”

You do exactly what he says and give into the demanding orgasm. It hits you so strong and so intense, you can't help but scream out hoarsely. You forget the concept of time as you put yourself back together after what was definitely the harshest orgasm you've ever had. You feel so lost in yourself and so completely gone for a few moments.

You realize Jin is no longer with you when you close your legs shut. You reach down and hesitantly touch yourself. Your soaked slit burns your hand as you move it down closer to your entrance. The bed below your hips is drenched in your spent juices.

“You are doing so well.” Namjoon says from above you. You feel your shirt and bra being lifted before his hot mouth descends on your taut nipple. Lightning shoots down to your core and you instantly crave more. You need him inside of you. You feel like a crazed woman all of a sudden and go to run your hands through his hair, pulling roughly on the ends.

“Please, Namjoon. I need you inside of me.”

His sucking stops at your confession and he pops up off of your breast. “Yeah, baby?”

“Yes….” You plead. “Yes please.” To show him how much you need him, you raise your hips upwards and suck your bottom lip into your mouth.

He inhales slowly and reaches down to cup your wet pussy, before climbing between your legs and pulling your hips up against his unclothed hard cock. The surprise from feeling his hard length press against your core shows on your face. You had no idea he was completely naked.

“I wanted to tease you some more, but I'm so ready to feel your walls pulling me in.” His tone lowers as he voices his dirty thoughts.

“Unnghhhh” you whine at the visual his words leave in your mind.

The blindfold is yanked off of your head and you take in his naked form in front of you. The soft light from the many candles, now spread throughout the room, splays amber over his toned belly and sharp face.

His eyes bore into you. “You're going to watch me fuck you.” The words send ice through your veins and you welcome the powerful feeling with open arms.

Your eyes catch movement to your side and you look around the dim room. What you see has you light-headed and close to fainting once again. The others are spread out on the couches touching themselves. Every single one of them nude and stroking their hard lengths while devouring you with their piercing eyes.

Namjoon runs the head of his cock up your wet, puffy feminine lips and you lift your head to watch the intoxicating motion.

“You're so fucking wet Y/N.” He breathes out, his voice cracking midway.

Without warning he slams into you, stretching your tight walls and bottoming out. You scream into the dark room at the sweet invasion and reach out desperately to grab ahold of the soft sheets surrounding you. He begins thrusting into you hard and grabs onto your wide hips for better leverage.

You slide up and down on the mattress as he pulls you roughly onto his length, his fingers digging into the flesh at your hips. For a moment you can only close your eyes in ecstasy from finally feeling full. Full of Namjoon. The thought has you whimpering again.

His head is thrown back, lips parted, eyes shut as he pounds into you relentlessly. You watch as he loses control of himself above you, making you feel somewhat powerful. Like you could bend these men to do whatever you want, with only the promise of your pussy.

You place your palms against his abs, the muscles constricting fiercely under your touch. He grabs your wrists and slams them down on either side of your head, his body following the movement until his face is inches away from yours. You gasp at the sudden action and stare into his dark eyes.

“I see it in your eyes.” His hips slow, the rhythm changing to short, deep thrusts that slam against your cervix. You ball your fists at the painful pleasure of him being so far inside of you. You never thought Namjoon could be this way. The drastic contrast from how you usually see the man on top of you to how he is now roughly fucking you has you seeing black stars.

“Don't even think about it. We're in control tonight.” Your pussy squeezes around him making him groan next to your lips. You try and press your lips to his but he manages to pull back before you can, making you whine in frustration. Teasingly, he runs his tongue over your lips and sits back up, pulling you with him so that you're bouncing in his lap.

You yelp in surprise, his dick now hitting you at a different angle. “YES...YES!” You yell towards the ceiling.

His hand snakes between your bodies and finds your now extra-sensitive bundle of nerves. The unexpected touch has you cumming again in no time. He grinds into you erratically, watching you cum on his dick, and releases his own orgasm, filling you with his thick strands of cum.

You're catching your breath you didn't realize you had lost when he pulls out of you and lays you gently back on the mat. After placing a gentle kiss on your forehead he takes a seat on the couch to your left.

To the right you see Jimin relaxing on the other side of the couch, his head resting back and his eyes watching your every move. Your eyes flicker down to his hand moving seductively up and down his thick hardness. Yoongi sits to the right of him with his eyes glued to Jimin's small hand jerking his wide cock.

The rest of the guys are spread out, nude, in various sitting positions, leaving no space on the wrap-around sofa.

Jimin's raspy voice sounds loud when he speaks. “Come here, baby.”

Moving from your lying position, you slowly get up and sit back with your legs tucked under you. The sight of him touching himself enraptures you, freezing you to the spot as you ogle him openly.

“Come sit on me.” He requests.

You crawl forward hesitantly until you're kneeling between his spread legs.

“Hurry baby.” He whines impatiently.

Yoongi reaches down and helps you climb onto Jimin's lap. Your thighs press against his firm ones as your legs spread on top of him. Yoongi watches intently beside you.

Jimin centers his cock at your entrance and you sink down onto him, releasing a high pitched sigh at the way he stretches your narrow walls.

His eyes roll back. “FUUUCK.”

Placing your hands on his chest for support, you move on top of him slowly. His hands move to rest on your thighs and he watches you quietly as you ride him, tentatively at first, getting used to the width of him. Lustful noises fall from his mouth as you speed up. His eyes widen and his moaning grows louder when you gyrate your hips against him, grinding small circles down into his pelvis.

Yoongi inhales noticeably to your right and you make eye contact with him. He grins devilishly and says, “You should hear him when he's on top.”

Your grinding falters at his words and more wetness floods your core. Jimin groans and pushes up, signalling you to move faster. You comply and start to bounce on his hard length, your moans growing louder as his do. His hands find your waist and grab on tightly, pushing you down until you feel the tip of him touch your cervix.

You stare at his beautiful face and imagine him riding Yoongi's cock while making wild noises. The visual topples you over the edge again and you feel Jimin releasing inside of you as well, your name leaving his lips in whispers.

You can't believe how many times you've come within the past hour. For sure more times than you have the last six months put together.

Before you've fully regenerated from your climax, Yoongi grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap. Cum spills out of your pussy and onto Jimin's thigh and across the couch as you’re dragged onto Yoongi's waiting cock.

You barely catch the way Jimin stares at the cum on his leg and licks his lips before Yoongi is slamming into you. His pace leaves you breathless for a moment. He thrusts up into your leaking pussy, spent juices from both Namjoon and Jimin dripping out of you and down his dick.

To keep from flying off of him, you grab on for dear life to the couch behind his head. His eyes never leave your face as he fucks you at an alarming speed, his cock ripping into your tight hole like his life depends on it. Despite loving the intimacy he showed you before, this is how you'd always imagined sex with Yoongi. Hard and relentless. Your expectations are beyond fulfilled.

He sits up to grab your arms and hold them together behind your back. The new position making your back bend, causing your breasts to point upwards on full display. Collective groaning reaches your ears as your boobs bounce up and down from how hard Yoongi slams into you.

He slows his pace some and leans forward to kiss your neck. “When we're done, you're going to be so full of cum.” He pauses, closing his eyes for a minute, turned on by his own words. “We'll be dripping out of you for days.”

“Yoongi…”

His hot breath runs down your neck as he speeds back up. Within seconds he's pulsing inside of you, coating your walls with his hot, sticky cum.

Almost immediately, arms are wrapped around you from behind and you're pulled off of Yoongi and carried back to the mat. Taehyung places you down gently and sits with his legs crossed beside you. Jungkook climbs between your legs like he was earlier. This time less nervous than before but still more shy than the rest of the guys.

Again, he stares wide-eyed at your crotch, your abused pussy on direct display for him. He no doubt can see how much cum you have leaking out of you. You have an urge to pull him into your arms and hold him, but the urge to see him pushing into you is much stronger.

You scoot down the bed until the back of your knees rest against the top of his thighs. His eyes widen even more. Seeing his reaction makes you wonder if maybe Jungkook really is as innocent as you've always thought he is.

“Jungkook.” You lilt..

“Noona.” he responds, almost too fast.

“Have you ever….” you trail off, not knowing how to ask.

His eyes leave yours and he shakes his head quickly. Your pussy clenches at his response. The idea of being Kookie’s first sends pleasure and excitement shooting through you.

“It's okay,” you try and soothe him, “I want to feel you inside of me. So bad.”

His dick jumps and he stares open-mouthed at you.

You bite your lip and move down more until your entrance presses onto his bulbous head. He inhales sharply and juts forward slightly, entering you a few inches.

“Mmmmmm. Yes Kookie, more please.” You push against him to show him you're beyond ready.

He pushes into you slowly until his happy trail tickles the top of your bare mound. Your eyes roll back at the extremely full feeling of having him inside of you all the way. You clench down on him and watch his facial expression change.

“Ahhh.” He moans. He slides out and pushes back in a few times, getting used to the feeling. His face breaks out in a light sweat as he tries to keep himself from losing it.

You reach to grab his hand. “Don't be scared. I'm not fragile. Fuck me, Jungkook.”

He freezes for a split second to watch you, before slamming into you.

“Uhhh yeeeess.” you moan. Your hair falls into your face as Jungkook grinds at your center. Taehyung pushes your hair out of the way before leaning over and pressing his lips to yours. You yelp into his mouth as you're pulled closer to Jungkook, his curved cock hitting the rough patch at the top of your channel.

You grab onto Tae's hair and kiss him back bruisingly hard, Jungkook’s hard juts making you moan into Tae's open mouth agressively. Tae's mouth leaves yours to find your nipple and roll it between his teeth. He kisses down your belly and to your utmost surprise, places a kiss on the spot right above where Jungkook is connected to you. He continues, leaving a trail of kisses up Jungkook's torso until he reaches his mouth. They lock lips and Jungkook's thrusts falter as they make out on top of you. You swear you have never seen anything so sexy in your life. You knew they were close…...but not this close. First Jimin and Yoongi, now Jungkook and Tae. Who else?

Taehyung pulls away from the kiss first. “Lay down.” He growls. Your insides melt at his deep command aimed towards the maknae of the group.

Jungkook complies and pulls out of you to lay flat on his back beside you. Tae’s hands run up your leg. “Lay on top of him, but face me.”

Gulping, you follow his demand and lay on top of Jungkook so that your back is pressed to his front. You watch as Tae runs his fingers along your wet slit, coating them in your own juices, then dips them down to press against your ass hole. You jump at the intimate touch.

“Let's see if you're a good girl, or a bad girl.” He says, smiling evilly.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, not sure of what he means. He pushes one wet finger into your ass and watches your facial reaction. You inhale slowly, at the feeling. After a minute of wiggling the first digit around he pulls out and enters two of them.

“Ahh, I think you're a bad girl Y/N.” He chuckles up at you, two fingers deep in your ass.

You bite your lips and watch his fingers moving in and out achingly slow. You crave much more than his two slim fingers, knowing full well how much pleasure can come from anal play. You smile as you finally realize what he means. He now knows that you're not a virgin there.

“Mmmmm, Y/N has been having some fun down here, hasn't she?”

You blush crimson and turn away. You realize it was a mistake looking to the side, as you now see the hungry faces of everyone else. Even from the three men who have already had their fill of you.

Taehyung grabs Jungkook's hard cock and spits a long stream of saliva onto the tip before spreading it around with his fingers. Jungkook pants and whines softly under you at his hyung’s kinky ministrations. Your hips are grabbed and pulled down until Jungkook's cock is lined up with your tightest hole. Tae helps guide the throbbing length into you slowly, pausing every inch or so to let you adjust and to let Jungkook breathe.

When he's finally fully in you, you let out a huge pleasurful sigh and rest back onto Jungkook's hard chest.

“She's squeezing you so tight, Kookie.” Tae groans while staring at where you and Jungkook now connect. He climbs on top of the both of you and centers himself at your weeping core and pushes in slowly.

“AHHHH-aghhhhh. Fuck. Ahh. Tae…..Kookie….” You squeal at the overwhelming, new sensation of being filled by both of them at once.

You keep your eyes closed as they both start to move within you. You've never felt anything so amazingly pleasurable in your life. Nothing you've done to yourself, in your own bed even, compares to what courses through your veins now.

Tae is on top of you, breathing into your neck as he slides in and out of you oppositon of when Jungkook enters and pulls out below you. Jungkook juts upward into your tight hole and grabs onto your hair, pulling your head back against his own and giving more room for Taehyung to mark your skin. The pair moan and grunt into both of your ears as they caress your channels and leave you breathless in ecstasy.

Taehyung leans past your shoulder and kisses Jungkook again, making your heart slam against your ribcage. Jungkook pulls away and reaches around to grab on to your perky breasts.

“I'm gonna cum.” He pants wildly in your ear. “Ahhh, Noona. Uhhhhh Tae, I feel you both. Fuck.” His voice cuts off suddenly as he cums inside of your ass violently, jerking up against your backside.

“Fucking shit.” Taehyung says right before he fills your pussy with more hot seed.

They breathe hard, pressing against you for a bit before Tae slips out of you first, followed shortly after by Kookie. You roll over onto your knees and press your face into the soft mattress. Your hips move of their own accord, still feeling the two of them pumping inside of you. You feel completely filthy, wanting more and more of them right after the other. It's like your thirst is unquenchable.

You feel hands run over your ass cheeks and you open your eyes to see Hobi behind you. He rubs his warm hands up your back then down to your round soft globes again, before smacking the left one hard. You yelp at the sudden slap, the noise echoing in the big room. You know you're about to be fucked harder than you've ever been fucked before and you feel your walls spasming already, just from anticipation. You wonder how much more of this you can take before you're done.

Hobi slaps your pussy hard, eliciting a high-pitched scream from your throat. “I can't believe I'm about to feel this pussy around me.”

Your wetness drips down your leg. Never would you have imagined Hobi like this. A complete Dom.

He places his cock against the top of your ass and runs it down to your now swollen entrance and pushes in halfway, just to pull back out. He teases you like this for a few minutes until your gripping the sheets begging him to fuck you.

“Hobi-pleeaase.” You cry into the fabric underneath you.

“Please what, babygirl?”

“Fuck me please!” You say.

He grabs your hair, twisting his hand in the locks and pulls you up until your back curves outwards. He puts his mouth by your ear.

“Say it louder and say my name.” He demands, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

“Ahhhh….FUCK ME HOSEOK, PLEASE!” you practically yell at him.

He throws you back down to the bent position you were in before and slams into your aching pussy. You scream out, your voice cracking halfway. He grabs onto your waist and pounds into you so hard, you can't even make noise. You lay there open-mouthed taking his cock like the good girl you are.

Movement catches your eye, and you see Jin coming towards you. He leans down, putting his face at your level.

“I love how you look being fucked like this.” He says quietly so only you can hear.

You moan wildly in his face, not being able to hold anything in. He cups your jaw with his big hand and rubs under your ear.

“Hobi, lift her again.” He says to Hobi while staring at you still.

Your hand is yanked again until you're back in the previous position, this time with Jin in front of you, his damp, dark hair falling into his brown eyes. His hand finds your jaw again and he leans in, running his long tongue from your chin up to your ear. You shiver at the warm wet sensation on your face.

“Mmmmm.” He moans at your reaction.

Hobi relentlessly juts into you, slamming against your soft cervix as if begging for entry. Your eyes start to roll back and close.

“No no no.” Jin whispers. “Keep them open.”

They flutter back open and watch him lower to his stomach and press his hot mouth against your sensitive clit. You yell out, squeezing around Hobi’s demanding cock. Jin's tongue pressing hard circles against your clit has you feeling so close to another orgasm. You grab his hair and push him in tighter against your sex, craving more.

Just as Jin stops licking you, Hobi empties his cum into your beautifully sore pussy. His rough grunting vibrates through your back pressed up to him.

You cry out as you're pushed back down onto the bed. You were so close to cumming when they both stopped suddenly. Hobi sits back on his heels panting heavily and stroking his wet, shiny dick.

Jin stands up, lifts you in his arms, takes you to the sofa and sits between Namjoon and Yoongi. He lays you on top of him so that you face away from his pretty face. Namjoon sits to your right and Yoongi to your left. The rest of the boys move to kneel on the floor in front of you and Jin.

“Everyone's going to watch your pretty little pussy weep for me while I fuck your ass.” He grabs his dick and slides it up and down your folds. “Is that okay kitten?”

You stare at his cock teasing your entrance and nod your head slowly.

“Good.” He says as he dips his fingers into you, scooping moisture out and coating his cock. Your ass is lifted as he aims himself at your little hole, then lowers you down slowly stretching your ass out again.

“Ugnnhhhhh.” You moan throatily.

“You take our cocks so we'll, Y/N.” He pushes into you in one smooth thrust hitting you deep. You brace your arms on his just underneath you and look down at the boys kneeling before you. The sight of them sitting obediently thrills you. You want to take control and fuck each of them into the ground one by one until they are the ones moaning and screaming.

Jin pulls out of you and thrust back in hard, distracting you from your kinky thoughts. His rhythm picks up until he's sliding in and out of you rapidly, making obscene wet noises that sound embarrassingly loud. Goosebumps rise on your skin at the extremely sexual sounds.

The boys in front of you stare intently at your constantly dripping pussy and lick their lips every once in a while, as if they are dying to have a taste.

Namjoon leans into your side and runs his long fingers down your wet folds then inserts two fingers into your cum-filled hole. He wiggles them around, making your head fall back against Jin's shoulder. When he pulls them out slowly, you look back down to see a stream of white still connected to his fingers from your entrance.

Instinctively you lick your lips. Everyone notices.

Namjoon brings his wet fingers to your lips. “Lick them.” He says.

Your brain tells you no, but your pussy tells you 'fuck yes’. Your mouth opens instantly, taking his two fingers in and wrapping your tongue around the wet digits. The salty taste of their combined ejaculate fills your mouth. You moan into his fingers while making eye contact with everyone who's cum inside of you so far. They all stare wide-eyed, making you overflow with pride.

Yoongi does the same as Namjoon, dipping inside of you and leading a string of cum to your waiting tongue. They repeat once more each before Jimin crawls forward, stopping inches away from your spread legs.

He watches closely as Jin pounds into your ass, licking his big lips seductively. Leaning forward, he licks up your cum soaked slit, eliciting growls throughout the guys and a choking moan from you.

The dirty sight of Jimin attacking your cum-filled pussy with his puffy lips has you bouncing and whining on top of Jin. Jimin finishes cleaning up your abused pussy and moves up to give love to the bundle of nerves poking through your folds.

The second his tongue presses into it you fall apart. Silent screams escape your lips and your vision falters as stars appear behind your closed eyelids. Your arms give out underneath you and you fall back into Jin’s arms, shaking as he thrusts his final few times into you. His hot cum spurts out of his throbbing cock and spills out, running down his shaft and dripping onto the couch underneath.

You stay motionless on Jin’s hard chest for a few minutes until you’re lifted into unknown arms and carried to the bathroom. As you're laid in the tub, your eyes finally focus to see Namjoon turning on the tap and filling the tub with hot water. Lathering a hot cloth with soap, he proceeds to gently bathe you while praising you for how well you did tonight.

Your heart swells at hearing his voice say words you never thought you'd hear. Slight panic starts to set in shortly after. What happens next? Is this going to ruin your relationship? You can't choose.

You start to voice the crazy things running through your mind and Namjoon stops washing your sore body. He grabs your jaw softly and turns you to face him.

“Y/N.” He says soothingly. “We ALL love you. We ALL need you. Please choose ALL of us. You're our strength.”

Your heart leaps into your throat while all of the blood in your body rushes to your head. You relax into his touch thinking about being with them all as one. Just like you were tonight. You know that's exactly what you need and want in your life right now. Smiling up at Namjoon, you move onto your knees to kiss him.

“Is this you saying yes?” He asks after pulling away gently, his eyes boring into yours pleadingly.

“Of course. I need all of you in my life.”

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