#who obviously can’t even do what my roommate and I did and take long cold showers and apply ice packs just trying to survive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

provisionalsparkle · 3 years

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The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.

#bang chan smut #stray kids smut #skz chan smut #skz smut #bangchan smut

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thesolferino · 3 years

Text

Hell On Earth

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: fluff

⤷ word count: 3.2k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: you barge into clay’s office to complain about his broken air conditioner, unaware that he’s streaming.

Florida was hell.

You liked to say it as a joke, during October when the rest of the world was freezing, during December when the insane temperatures finally went back under control, and the sun granted you its blessing of a refreshing gust of wind every now and then. You liked to say it as a joke, mostly, but God, did you mean it whenever summer would creep around the corner and you’d get reminded of why you told your boyfriend so often that the devil must’ve left hell, came down to America, and bought himself a nice penthouse in Florida.

It lived up to its title of the hottest state in the US, by far, considering the hellish temperatures that constantly made you dizzy whenever June rolled around. You had great air conditioning in your apartment, though, and as soon as the sun started burning skin, plants, water, and everything in its way, you and your college roommate would lounge at your place as the air conditioner blew cold wind and thank the lord (and the person who invented AC, bless his heart) for providing you with at least one blessing during these trying times.

So, of course that as soon as summer came about, your air conditioning conveniently broke.

Your roommate was out of the apartment within two days, flying to her family in Wisconsin, bidding you farewell as she left you to cook like a raw chicken in your shared apartment. Thankfully, you had a boyfriend - and what a boyfriend he was.

You don’t like to brag, but at these moments, you feel grateful to the universe and whoever else is looking over you for providing you with a rich boyfriend, with quite a big, echo-y house, and air conditioning made of pure heaven. As soon as your roommate packed your bags, you packed yours too, - if one backpack filled with makeup, your laptop, meds, underwear and hopes that he’d let you steal all of his clothes could count as “bags” - locked the apartment and left, ready to leave the AC on snowman temperature for two days minimum and ignore all his complaints.

Bad luck seemed to follow you everywhere, though, because you were there for merely three days when the air conditioning started stuttering.

You were sprawled on the cold sheets of his bed, listening to the low hum of the AC as you scrolled through your phone, his white T-shirt sticking to your back, the cold air cooling the sheen of sweat that covered your body, leaving goosebumps all over. One of your fingers started lazily petting Patches’ stomach, and you could faintly hear Clay talking in the background, the sounds coming from his office.

“Thank you for the gifted subs! Um, yeah, it’s really hot here, I can barely, like, breathe in here. I have the AC on at highest, but all it’s doing is giving me a headache. Even-even my water bottle is completely hot.” You heard him rant and chuckled, turning on your side and continuing to scroll through random videos.

You sort of tuned out his talking, knowing he’d most likely be cooped up in that office for hours before your shared dinner, and started watching random YouTube videos, ignoring your surroundings as you shoved your earbuds in your ears.

The longer the videos lasted, the more you felt like you were suffocating. The heat crawled up on you slowly, sneakily, almost unnoticeable yet undeniably there, hand made up of pure fire gripping at your throat tighter and tighter. It started off seamlessly, with you rolling around, trying to find a new cold spot on the sheets, to pulling at the shirt, trying to create cold air to soothe you, to wiping the sweat that basically covered your entire forehead, when your eyes finally peeled away from your phone and you realised you were basically choking in the heat, feeling like you’re breathing fire.

You lift your head off the bed way too quickly, head pounding, and look at the one thing meant to save you from this madness - just to see it leaking water down the wall, barely coughing out any air. Your head miserably falls back down on the bed, hands rubbing at your face, dangerously close to both crying and screaming in distress. After a few moments of self-wallowing, you get up and make your way over to your boyfriend’s office, being met with nothing but silence as you walked to it, happy he ended the stream so you could complain and wail to him, possibly cool down using the AC in his office.

You slam the door open, seeing him hunched over in his gaming chair, Minecraft open as usual, and as soon as he takes one headphone off, turns around and sends a surprised but oddly panicked gaze your way, you start ranting.

“Babe, you won’t believe what just happened.” you said, rubbing a hand over your face again, eyes closing as you feel the coldness - in comparison to the living hell that was his bedroom right now - of the room wash over you. You don’t even let him speak before you continue.

“The fucking AC in your bedroom just broke. It’s leaking right now.”

Clay looks like he wants to say fifteen words at once, and the first one that comes out is: “What?”

“I swear. I was watching something on my phone, and I realised it’s crazy hot, so I looked up and realised it’s broken. Why does this happen to me!” you complained, and he tried pulling his headphones off for a second but instead pulled the cord out of the computer entirely, letting you hear everything that goes on in his headphones.

It’s silent for a second or two, before you hear a familiar voice.

“Dream.” you hear a British man with an awfully posh accent speak, and your eyes meet Clay’s in pure horror and realisation, when you slap a hand over your mouth. He looks as equally terrified as you, but also disappointed, because oh, that’s why he looked so panicked when you stormed in.

Then you hear another voice, equally British, but higher pitched. They laugh. “Is that Drista?”

Clay seems to snap back into reality, turning around towards the computer and adjusting his mic before speaking. “No- it’s- Tommy she said babe, why would Drista call me babe?”

“You’re so stupid, he was trying to help you.” You hear his long-time friend, Sapnap, deadpan, and you can practically feel all of them freaking out, while you stand in the doorway in horror, cheeks heating up despite the fully working AC.

Another laugh. “No, I wasn’t, I was genuinely asking. Why- Sapnap, why would I be helping Dream?”

“Dream, you are so stupid.” you hear George laugh into his mic and your boyfriend immediately starts stuttering, trying to defend himself.

“How-how am I stupid?! She’s the one who walked in, what was I supposed to do?” you lean against the doorway as he defends himself, head buried in one of your hands.

“Mute!” you hear Sapnap borderline yell, almost mad.

“Wait- I don’t get what’s going on- Does Big D have a girlfriend?” you hear the British boy, Tommy, ask, and all of them go silent for a few seconds before a loud, screeching laugh breaks out through the speakers, and when Clay turns around to look at you, all you can do is mouth an apology as you almost break out into laughter at how ridiculous the whole thing is.

“Oh my God, chat is going crazy right now.” George says while Tommy is laughing his lungs out in the background, still.

“Did you actually- did she actually- oh my GOD, Dream has a girlfriend! I can’t believe this!” Tommy keeps on laughing, coughing between sentences. “Dream stans, I am so sorry, this must be just a terrible, terrible day for you all.”

“You’re probably already trending on Twitter, dude.” Sapnap adds, sounding more worried than your own boyfriend did at the moment.

“It was bound to happen at some point, I guess.” he huffs out, turning around to look at you every so often, gesturing for you to close the door and come in, which you did, guilt weighing you down as you moved.

“Are you serious? Can I- Can I speak to your girlfriend, Dream?” you can practically hear the grin in the boy’s voice and Clay doesn’t even turn to you before replying.

“No, you can’t.”

“Oh, come on! You let me speak to your mum but not your girlfriend? Just for a little bit, please? I just- I just wanna see which lucky woman managed to get the attention of the Minecraft God, Dream himself. That’s it.” Tommy asks and you don’t even have it in you to laugh because of the anxiety that eats away at you, but then Clay sighs.

“...Fine, I guess.” he looks up at you. “D’you wanna speak to Tommy?”

You’re not quite sure what the expected answer is, but you shrug, gaze darting from his eyes to the computer, and then back to him. “Um… I don’t mind, I guess.”

You hear him sigh and plug the headphones back into the computer, handing them to you. “Alright, she said yes. Here you go.” he stands up out of the chair and lets you sit, placing the way too big headphones on your head as your heart races, standing closely by your side as you roll the chair further towards the desk and microphone.

“Um… hello?” you shyly speak, and you hear something like groans of mixed annoyance, confusion and nervousness coming from George and Sapnap as Tommy starts laughing immediately, greeting you loudly.

“HELLO, DREAM’S GIRLFRIEND!” you hear him yell in response as your shaky hands land on the keyboard, moving his character left and right.

“Is the AC really broken?” Sapnap asks and you hear George laugh in response, considering how unimportant that information is right now. You know both of them, obviously - you’ve talked to them more than a few times, joining in on their jokes when Clay talks to them on speaker, growing as close as one can with their boyfriend’s friends.

“Yeah, it is. The AC in here is really good, though. Maybe I should stay and just take over the Dream channel.” You joke and they laugh.

“Yeah, I mean it would probably be better. A woman owning the Dream channel would make it so much better. The views would skyrocket.” Tommy says and you see his character walk up to you before he randomly laughs again.

“I can’t believe- I can’t believe Dream actually has a girlfriend. Is he, like, paying you to do this, or are you really…” he trails off and you giggle at his question, switching tools in the hotbar as you try to figure out how to play the game again.

“No, he’s not. We are dating, yes.” you confirm with a nod, and you feel Clay’s elbow sink into the chair, almost trying to listen.

“Say 1 if he’s keeping you hostage.” he says and you laugh again, shaking your head.

“No, he’s not- he’s not keeping me hostage.” you reply and you hear Clay go “WHAT?” right behind you.

“Well, of course, of course, I mean, who could ever pass up dating the great Dream. With all those subscribers, and Twitch primes, and Minecraft skills. Did- did his Minecraft skills get you?” Tommy asked, but before you could even respond, Sapnap jumped into the conversation.

“Oh yes, absolutely. She loves it. Yes, Dream, speedrun faster!” he sarcastically replies and for a few moments the whole call is blown into loud laughter, screeching and yells before it quiets down.

“Yes, what Sapnap said. I was so impressed, he just blew me away, with um… with his, um, Manhunt skills? I dunno, I don’t play Minecraft.” you hear him laugh at “Manhunt skills” behind you as the rest of the boys start laughing too.

“Dream’s girlfriend doesn’t play Minecraft?! What?! Dream- how could he allow this, seriously…” Tommy argued dramatically, his character staring at yours - or rather Clay’s.

“I can’t imagine if we were both Minecraft players, that would be a nightmare.” you replied.

“Why?” you heard George laugh through the headphones.

“Who do you think peels him away from the damn computer? If I was just like him we would never get out of the house, probably.” you argued.

“Dreamfriend, what is Dream like, you know, in real life?” Tommy spoke up and you heard George giggle again.

“Dreamfriend?” you repeated, a grin forming on your face at his stupidity, finally deciding to move the character around and switch back to the sword in the hotbar.

“Yes! Dream’s girlfriend, Dreamfriend, Dreamgirl, Girldream, whatever you like.” Tommy said and you laughed.

“Dream girl… if I wanted to get clout off Dream I’d use that, that’s genius.”

“Thanks, I know I’m a genius, everyone tells me so.” Tommy claims and you shake your head, checking your boyfriend’s inventory to see if there’s anything interesting in there.

“Alright, I’m gonna check on the AC, I’ll be back in a second.” Clay says to you, before lowering himself to the mic so the boys could hear him. “Tommy, don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“Oh you know it, big man! I’d never!” Tommy yells back, despite Clay being unable to hear him, and he leaves the office with one last, quick kiss to your temple.

“Is he gone?” Tommy asks, and you nod and hum, despite him not being able to see you.

“Okay, so you don’t play Minecraft, right?” he asks.

“No, I don’t.” you reply.

“So there’s this really cool thing, right. If you just go in and type /op tommyinnit, there’s this thing that’s gonna-” Tommy doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he’s cut off by Sapnap, whose character suddenly appears in front of you.

“No, no, no, no, don’t trust him, you should-” Sapnap cuts in, but Tommy still loudly protests in the background.

“BE NICE TO OUR GUEST, SAPNAP! Let her do what she wants! She is Dream’s girlfriend after all, the most powerful woman.” Tommy claims and you laugh, sort of blushing from all the attention. You don’t even dare to check the chat or the donations that come in from Twitch, because it must be blowing up by now. As if he can hear your thoughts, George speaks too.

“Oh my God, Dream’s already trending on, like, five different spots on Twitter.” he says, and you instinctively grab your phone to check, before you can even think about it.

“What?” you and Sapnap both say in sync.

“Yeah, ‘Dream’ is trending #2 worldwide, and ‘Dream girlfriend’ is #4.” he lets out a shocked laugh.

“Oh my God…” you mutter out in both excitement, nervousness and dread as you open Twitter and confirm that George is indeed correct. You don’t even dare to press on either of the trends, simply turning off your phone with a sigh and moving back to stream.

“Wow, you’re famous now! How does it feel?” Tommy asks and you let out a quite dry laugh.

“Amazing. I can feel my value as a person increasing as we speak.” you respond sarcastically and hear George quietly laugh in the background.

Just then, you hear the door to the office opening again, but you ignore it because Tommy starts speaking.

“Okay, well, I’m sure that must be very fun and exciting for you, but I really will need you to type in /op tommyinn-”

“No! I’m not listening to you, Tommy! I’m not about to type in some stupid command and get yelled at!” you cut in, but he keeps on whining.

“Come on, we know Big D would never yell at his… beloved girlfriend! Listen, just do it, I promise he will not be mad.” he argues.

“What does /op even mean?” you ask out loud, and suddenly Clay is yelling behind you.

“Who is asking you to op them? Give me the headset!” he says, one hand already tugging at the headphones as you laugh while Tommy panics.

“Well, it was fun talking to you guys, but I have to go. Bye!” you bid them farewell and heard George and Sapnap say goodbye as well while Tommy yelled, and you took off the headphones and passed them to Clay who immediately put them on and adjusted them, plopping back into the chair. You left, moving to the living room to process everything that happened and abandon your phone for the next few hours because you were not ready for that type of attention in the slightest.

You laid in front of the TV, watching random shows on Netflix and grabbing a few snacks from the kitchen while you could still clearly hear him yelling and streaming, wondering how he’s still going as if nothing happened. The temptation to check what people were saying was overwhelming to the point your hands were itching to grab your phone and open all social media - before you even realised it, you were on the trending page again, thumb tapping on the “Dream girlfriend” tab.

You braced yourself for the worst, but that’s not what came at you - sure, there were a couple of tweets telling people to lay off you, and delusional shippers getting ratioed, but they were mostly positive, lighthearted jokes, from single people making jokes about how a Minecraft YouTuber can get bitches but they can’t, to people calling you cute/funny. One hate comment obviously stings more than a million positive comments make you happy, but they were mostly misogynists calling you annoying for the roughly five sentences you spoke on stream or shippers disappointed that their favorite YouTuber isn’t gay, so you didn’t really let it get to you.

When the house finally quieted down the sun was lowering itself into darkness and melting into a pot of blinding orange and golden honey, and you heard Clay’s footsteps when he finally turned off the stream, stepping into the living room a few seconds after you heard him. He sat down on the couch next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to him, sitting there in silence with you.

“So… that was something.” he finally broke the silence and you nodded.

“It really was.”

Another beat of silence passes.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I really need you to stop breaking all these ACs.”

“I’M NOT THE ONE BREAKING THEM-”

“Sorry, but I’m noticing a pattern here.” he wheezed, obviously just trying to get you riled up as you pulled away so his hand gets ripped off your shoulder.

“Shut up. You better have called someone to repair that damn thing, cause there is no way we’re sleeping in there without an AC.” you huffed, and he shuffled closer to you, arm wrapping itself around your shoulders once again.

“I did, they’re coming by tomorrow.” he assured.

“Tomorrow?” you asked, looking at him in disbelief. “How are we gonna sleep tonight?”

“Who says we have to sleep?” the glint in his eye and the stupid grin plastered on his face tells you everything you need to know, and you roll your eyes.

“If we fuck, I’ll actually die of overheating. Absolutely not.”

“Well in that case, I need to get that AC fixed as soon as possible.”

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dream fluff #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fluff #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #dream x you #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fluff

2K notes · View notes

binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

dear anon, sweet anon, thank you so much for requesting this <3 i didn’t know that i needed it in my life and now...here it is;) IT WAS SO FUN hehe

melt in your mouth | reader x jisung

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x han jisung

Genre: that good good smut

Summary: After hearing a rather interesting story about a certain brand of chocolate aphrodisiacs, your curiosity gets the best of you and your friend’s roommate, Jisung.....a spin off of bites like bittersweet

Word count: 3.7k

*photocreds to OP!

{see below for tags, nsfw and warnings!}

Tags: aphrodisiac au, somewhat friends to lovers, hints of mutual pining, bestfriend!seungmin, seungmin’sroommate!jisung, hardswitch!jisung, hardswitch!reader, explicit language, mentions of food/eating, hand stuff (r &m), degredation, petnames, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe cuties), creampie, voyeurism, and we love a plot twist ;)

~💋~

two flavors seemed excessive. one flavor seemed like just enough. you didn’t want to break the bank or anything on something that was likely crappy quality or potentially psychedelic; even worse, it could be both.

“and you want to try these with me why?” seungmin pushed his wire-framed glasses up his nose bridge and scrunched it up. he inspected the paper wrapper with a skeptical glare. the design itself was anything but trustworthy: in swirly cursive pink font, the name Cherri Amore and under it, a absurdly large lipstick mark with the outline of a couple doing what must have been fucking “spread eagle.”

seungmin muttered, leaning over the counter of the dingy kitchen he shared with his roommates, “proven aphrodiasiac and libido booster...? y/n, sorry, i just--i’m fucking lost here--”

“--ever heard of trying something for the hell of it seung??” you snatched the bar from his hand. “the review that i read online said that it made them crazy fucking horny, so much so that they fucked their best friend of something like five years or something like that. isn’t that insane?!”

your best friend’s eyes blew out with his mouth aghast, “what the hell?? shit--of course you’d find something insane on the internet like this and drag me into it...”

in your incredulous laugher, you threw your neck back so hard it hurt a little. “loosen up! it’s probably a scam or something. plus...if it does work on us...don’t act like i haven’t caught you in the act before...”

seungmin, ever the angel, flushed a shade of fuchsia you thought inhumanly possible for someone to attempt. “that-that wasn’t--that wasn’t what you thought it was!!!” he cast away the chocolate bar as if it were his dick on the very night that you had walked in on something that was supposedly not what it looked like.

“relax!” you punched your embarrassed friend on the arm which he dramatically rubbed into. “it’s not a sin to jerk off or anything. hell, i do it....obviously.”

seungmin chuckled out unsteadily, “well, um, what if it does work then, what do we do?”

you snickered, “ha! hell if i know. cross that bridge when we get there?”

“so what you’re saying is...this could either be a massive waste of our time, or, both of us get so stupidly turned on that we decide to have sex....with eachother?”

“that’s the gist i’m getting.” you took to the corner of the shiny pink paper wrapping at the corner. “but...who said that we had to fuck or anything...?”

from fuchsia to nearly scarlet, seungmin averted his eyes at the speed of light.

“seung!!! do you have something to tell me?!” your teasing grin spread wide and you lifted your hand to give your adorable friend a clap on the back.

“i’m just repeating what you said!!”

you broke the bar open, cracking off the first square on the counter with a solid snap. with a smirk, you offered it to your friend. he reached out, only to nearly jump out of his skin when the old-timey ringtone from his phone erupted in the hollow kitchen.

“shit.” he murmured under his breath, pulling it out and immediately pressing the call button upon seeing the caller. “h-hello? yeah? wait, wait...slow down...the cultures did what?! and you have to start over?? shit--”

before you could have anything to do with it, your friend was already throwing on his sneakers and sky blue raincoat. “sorry, y/n but i have to go. that was my co-worker, they said that something went bad with the incubator, and all of the cultures are ruined, and there’s the stupid lab meeting in the morning--”

“i’m gonna pretend that i understood everything you said.” you hung at the doorway to the kitchen, observing him trip over pairs of shoes and other random-ass college-aged boy items. “you only get a pass because i have a feeling that the coworker we’re talking about here is the cute one.”

your friend rolled his eyes, mouthing a reluctant, “yes.”

“fine then. we can try the chocolates another time.”

“fine--sure--” seungmin grabbed for the handle, “sorry. again.”

~💋~

you felt like the chocolate bar was taunting you, just sitting there opened with two squares all ready for the eating. oddly, you really couldn’t figure out exactly why you had wanted to try them in the first place. for a second, the guilt and loneliness started to seep through and it felt sticky, pathetic, and stung like thorns right into your breaths.

“fuck it.” you whispered under your breath, swiping them all up and walking over to the trash can.

“whatcha got there?” a voice entered the room attached to one of seungmin’s roommates, jisung.

the two of you had met many times in passing, and you had shared enough small talk to consider him somewhat of an acquaintance. from what you had gathered about the boy, he spent much too much time in his room working on his animations and was the dictionary definition of one of those cocky-assholes you had a soft spot for.

“jisung--hey. it’s...it’s nothing. something stupid that i blew my money on.”

“let me see.” he crossed the room, looking wired and overtired as usual.

from staring at his screen for so long his eyes bagged with dark circles, but somehow it made him look mischievous, or something like that. his muscle tank had been cut low to reveal his sides and ribs which flared when he grabbed for the bar of chocolate.

“huh.” he scoffed, “i’ve seen like, infomercials for these things. you were going to try it?”

“yeah...i-i mean--no...i was.”

“what’s stopping you? not curious anymore?”

“window of opportunity passed.”

“i don’t think so.” he grinned, matter of a fact. “i like chocolate.”

you couldn’t quite believe what was being said to you at first. jisung, the boy that you barely knew, was standing there with his goofy heart-shaped smile and all, holding libido boosters and asking you to take them with him.

“you do know what those are, right? what they could do?”

immediately, he popped one in his mouth, nearly like it was a challenge. “empahsis on the “could.””

he held them closer to you, prompting you to take the remaining square which was flecked with little red hard-candy looking bits.

“fine then. you’re right. what they could do.” you downed the candy, crunching it and finding that the quality was certainly not a guarantee. the thing itself tasted halfway between a tootsie roll and cold medicine. “fuck.”

jisung laughed, throwing the rest of the bar away.

“what did you that for?”

“i’m guessing whether they work or not, you might not need them anymore.”

your friend’s roommate slicked his hair back, and ruffled it over his dark eyes. his face was slightly puffed with exhaustion, but it didn’t make him any less handsome.

“so we wait now?” you asked, glancing at the clock.

“wanna order some food or something?” he smacked his lips, “i need a fucking chaser after that.”

~💋~

you didn’t know what time it was; late, probably. after a couple hours of realizing that nothing was really going to happen to you or your friend’s roommate, you had decided to stop expecting it. although, you had kind of hoped...

the sofa that the boys shared was just about as comfortable as you had remembered it. it was large enough to hold you and seungmin’s two roommates on better days, but, once again, random-ass college-boy stuff cluttered at least half of it. it was one of those “dumpster finds” and kind of smelled like a grandma’s house, but honestly, that was what made it so comfortable.

the tv carried on, playing some kind of animated movie that jisung had chosen claiming that the director was some kind of “god of animation and storytelling.” you liked the colors, but soon you felt yourself being lulled and drowsy: your head felt heavy simply resting on your shoulders.

your eyelids fogged, and the sounds from the tv set started to fade into inexistence. beside you, jisung had crossed his arms, but the lack of space had pressed both of your thighs together, and the warmth from his leg started to wash over your drowsy state. your head bobbed, swayed...then fell, directly onto his shoulder. had you been more lucid, you would have cared more.

“oh--” he jumped slightly, and shifted awkwardly.

the room darkened and soon all you could see was the thin line of light that your half-open eyes allowed.

“this-this can’t be comfortable for you.” jisung hushed and clicked the tv off. “hey, you should be heading to bed anyway, it’s late.”

“are you kicking me out, jisung?” you babbled, not really aware of your own words.

your friend’s roommate chuckled, straightening his posture to support you. “i’m not gonna make you walk back to your place at this time of night.”

“it’s only a couple of blocks--”

“--you’ve slept over here before, haven’t you?”

you stretched out your arms with a little squeak.

“yeah. on the couch.”

“you...can’t do that. you’d have to sleep in a fucking corkscrew if you did that.”

“yeah, i know.” you giggled, now finding yourself in a kind of stupor that made you wonder if the chocolates really were doing their job. “i’ll just take seung’s bed then--”

“--he’s! not back...yet.” jisung hugged his arms to himself. “i dunno, shouldn’t he have his bed when he comes back?” he cleared his throat, composing himself. “of course, there’s space in my bed if you’d like.”

“me? sleep with you?”

“yes, with me.” just as he had before, that little challenging edge coated his tone, “only if you’re comfortable i mean. i guess that i’m forgetting that the most that the two of us have shared yet is some wack-ass chocolate so, i shouldn’t be making any assumptions.”

“no, no!” you pounced off from the couch, reaching high to the ceiling to stretch out your sore back next. and, perhaps to let your shirt tuck up just a little bit as you did so. “i don’t have a problem with it.”

jisung nodded, grinning in the half-lit room, cleaning away to-go boxes. you had noticed before, but the way that his triceps tensed when he moved around was really just a little too distracting.

“you can head on in, but--be quieter about it. jeongin is sleeping in here.”

you clicked off a sleepy salute, following the hall down exactly where you had known his room to be, but you had never entered it before. it didn’t surprise you, but it was just as messy as the rest of the place was, and you had to tip-toe around god-knows what to find your way.

after tripping on something soft and sort of damp, (which you prayed was a shower-towel) you made your way to jisung and his face illuminated by the blue-glow of his phone screen where he had immediately jumped in bed after navigating through the room much more skillfully than you had.

“you have an issue if i sleep in my underwear?” you asked, realizing.

jisung paused, wide eyed, but quickly fell back into his casual and cocky smirk. “i mean, that’s basically what i’m doing so...”

“scooch over. i hope you’re not a blanket hogger or anything.”

the bed was already pleasantly warm from jisung having occupied it. it would have felt amazing if you had been as tired as you had been moments ago, but now your entire body felt horribly wide-awake.

“--and if you start to snore, i’m leaving you for the couch, got it?”

jisung let out an airy laugh, shifting and creaking the bed a bit under him, “i don’t snore...for your information.”

with the blankets pulled up to your nose, you turned to lay on your back, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness of the room. above you, the faint green glow of glow-in-the-dark stars sprinkled across the ceiling, making up constellations: from what you could make out, the big dipper was above jisung’s bed, and the little one was above jeongin’s, who peacefully slept with tiny breaths.

jisung rolled to the side, accidently brushing his bare leg against yours.

“night, y/n. sorry the chocolates didn’t work out. would’ve been kind of hilarious if they did.”

“psh.” you rolled over too, closing your eyes, “you saying you would’ve taken up the opportunity to get in my pants?”

“guess we’ll never know.” he sighed.

~💋~

birds chirped, signaling the coming sunrise what was nearly breaking upon the horizon, and filled with deep blue sky with a type of orange-glow. the room was dim and stuffy, and noticeably much hotter than you remembered it being before. over the course of the night, you had tangled your legs with the sheets, finding them trapping you between them, and you shuffled to escape them and feel the air hit your skin. they shifted, letting you feeling the sticky mess between your legs.

“what the--” the aching and heated desire made itself painfully obvious, soaking directly through your underwear, making a wet mess of them where you throbbed with an utterly unexplainable arousal that reverberated in your core.

the friction from your legs only heightened the sensation, and you found yourself unwillingly rutting down into the mattress just to feel an ounce of relief.

fuck, the chocolates, you recalled. while you had expected to feel something from them, this was twenty times more intense than anything you could have planned for.

you were like an animal in heat, vulnerable, weak, dazed. your body set ablaze, and it only made sense to strip of any and all clothing that held you back. in your own desperation, you had completely forgotten about the man resting next to you.

“y/n? what's--what are you doing?” jisung groggily croaked in a tone several octaves lower than you were accustomed to. your brain could only calculate it is as downright, unbelievably sexy.

“jisung, i’m fucking burning up, an-and, i think i’m finally feeling something....are you?”

he hadn’t noticed it at first until he did, but from where he could see where the blanket dipped all the way down to your waist, you were completely bare. with fluttering eyes, he gulped down dry. you noticed the way that he took you all in, looking at every inch of you. you reveled in how he greedily and shamelessly didn’t stop.

under the covers, his own legs twisted.

“me too.” he answered gravely, speaking with a low whisper.

carefully, his tentative touch advanced under the covers, slowly reaching to your bare hip, where he settled a testing caress, squeezing harder, then cascaded down the small of your back to make you shiver. your own hand did the same, instead finding his leg and creeping your hand up and under his shirt. little space existed between the two of you, and only the panting of your heavy inhales and exhales could be heard.

your eyes glued to his, beautifully brown and dilating, trembling a little while holding yours. from his light touches, it took every bit of your will to control yourself from launching over him. jisung’s hand fell lower, and toyed with the elastic band of your underwear which had started to feel painfully confining. each of your own fingers traveled up his torso, brushing over his chest which made his whole body shake.

“sh-shit, i’m so fucking--” jisung started, dropping off his words to let out a wavering sigh. you didn’t need to guess any further.

jisung slid two fingers under your elastic band, and it became too much to handle.

“please, touch me jisung.” you whined out pitifully, clawing directly into the soft muscles of his back.

you were shocked how quickly he had given into you, immediately crashing his lips against yours first, then using both arms to pull you into his chest so close it stole all of your breath away. you kissed him back roughly, ravenous to feel the sensation of his mouth against your own. he growled out a small groan directly into your lips, sloppily working every single corner and edge of your mouth with a devilish smile curling his own.

lower, both of your hips met flush, grinding and twisting to create the kind of pressure that the both of you craved. limbs twisted, sweating and heated skin mingled, and you could feel every bit of his hardened cock right against your own arousal and how his shaft throbbed helplessly.

“you taste so good.” he murmured between haphazard kisses, letting his low tone vibrate against you.

“take these off.” you ordered, tugging at his boxers, nearly taking them off yourself.

“take yours off.” he echoed, and you did.

curious hands plunged deeper, delighting fingers in the slick of the other’s cum.

“fuck.” jisung dragged the explicative over your lip where he lapped lazily into you. “don’t stop.”

you gave him a moment’s pause, stopping to wet your palm with saliva, then met it with his cock. you worked his length with the sharp and twisting turn of your wrist, causing him to whimper out shamelessly.

“shhh.” you hissed, pulling his lip with our teeth, “don’t want to wake up your roommate do we?”

he nodded, biting each and every tantalizing little sound into his lip instead. your own breaths grew shallow feeling the pressure from his hand between your legs and how he had grabbed into your thigh to swing it over his hip for better access.

“wouldn’t you like me to fuck you out, baby? fuck you like the good little cock whore that you are for me? i’ve seen the way that you look...you’ve wanted this...haven’t you?” jisung’s words were slick and luxurious despite their bite.

to suppress the begging moan in your throat, you cupped your hand over your mouth, and pressed hard into it.

the blanket tented from your pulling at his cock and how you rubbed over his slit: it was an ethereal sight even in the blurriness of the room.

slowly, you leaned over to his ear, waist rocking back and forth over the sensation of his hand rubbing into you relentlessly. “don’t lie baby, you want my ass bouncing on your cock...don’t you?”

in one movement, he swept his full body weight over yours and harshly pulled your legs back to open your entrance just for him to tease with his tip. he guided himself in slowly and meticulously, bottoming out once you had sunk your fingers into his shoulders to manage some of the screams you would have let out otherwise.

“fuck yes, baby.” jisung growled, finding an animalistic pace that burned your whole body with white flames of pleasure.

you grew impatient wondering furiously what his cute little pouty cheeks would look like when you fucked him from above, riding his dick. you wouldn’t wait any further, taking your grasp on his shoulders to then flip him, settling your hips over his dick which you pounced on to the tune of one of his moans slipping past, loud and guttural.

“shut. the fuck. up.” you scolded him, throwing your hand over his pretty mouth. he whimpered out once again, eyes rolling feeling the tip of his dick reach as deeply inside of you as you would let it. “cum inside me sungie, i won’t stop until I have every last drop.”

jisung nodded, chest flaring as his breaths quickened.

“cum for me baby, and i’ll cum for you...got it?” your breathy whispers scratched your throat, but you needed him to hear.

you held his eyes which glistened with two pretty little tears that fell as he came hard, shaking with his whole body and letting each of his gleeful moans come spiraling into your hand.

your own heat came surging, right at your core, growing....growing...

a lamplight flashed on.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WHAT THE--WHAT THE--”

jeongin threw his sheets over his eyes, while shuddering. “I WAS FUCKING SLEEPING!!”

his shrill scream sent you jumping out of your lust, and you scrambled off jisung’s throbbing and pink cock, and forgetting the force of gravity, which sent his cum dripping out from inside of you. in your panic, you grabbed at anything to cover up your body and his, only to get so tangled that you lost your balance on the edge of the bed and.....

~💋~

THUMP

your body hit the wooden floor of jisung and jeongin’s room, right on your butt where you knew that it would be hurting for weeks.

as disoriented as you were, it took you a good few minutes to realize what had actually just happened.

“y/n?” jisung called with his groggy half-awake, half-asleep tone. “did you just fall out of the bed?”

on the opposite side of the room, you whipped your head over to see jeongin still peacefully sleeping with his back turned to jisung’s bed.

“fuck--um, yeah. i did. shit...”

jisung chuckled in the dark room just barely peeking with the first bits of the sunrise in streaming into the room.

“i don’t know how you did that considering i gave you plenty of space. get back up here.”

still dazed and brain overheating, you could have sworn you felt the little aftershocks of the orgasm that felt so real still coursing through your body.

you felt it too: the way that your underwear had slicked. some part of it all must’ve been real.

“jisung--” you started, not even sure if you wanted to tell him in the first place. “are you certain that you didn’t feel anything?”

jisung turned to face you and shook his head, “no, you?”

you hesitated, holding his eyes to see that he must have been telling the truth.

“i just...i just had this insane dream...”

“dream? about what?”

“it’s hard to explain...” you trailed.

“you look kind of shaken up, are you sure that you’re okay?” jisung extended a careful hand, and smoothed down the side of your face in the way that had felt frighteningly real only seconds ago. his hand lingered, falling down your neck and giving you goosebumps. your eyes fell to his lips, and you wondered if they would taste like you had imagined them to be.

you leaned in closer, closing the gap.

“it went something like this.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

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yunoysl · 3 years

Text

Wanna be yours | jjh

Summary: having an attractive roommate is one thing, but being friends with benefits with them is something that is bound to go wrong.

Pairing: roommate!jaehyun x fem!reader

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: masterbation, sexual tension, voyeurism?, unprotected sex, bulge kink, creampie, not completely proofread!

When you first asked your friend group if there was anyone they knew that needed a place to stay, you didn’t expect for him to be insanely attractive, and you also didn’t expect to become friends with benefits with him. You’re not complaining—he’s AMAZING in bed. Not just is the foreplay good and have you riled up and wet within a few minutes, but the degrading and aftercare have you wanting more.

“Y/N, are you going to workout with me today?”

“No, I’m too tired today” you tell him as you pick up a popsicle from the freezer. “I’ll just watch you workout and do it vicariously through you”

“Well alright, you won’t get the results you want but whatever suits you” he tells you as he sets his exercise mat in the living room.

“Aren’t you gonna take off your shirt?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you” you would slap that smirk off his face if you could.

“Jaehyun!”

“I’m joking calm down, and no, I do that later on when I start getting really sweaty”

“Oh, well then carry on”

You decide to go on your phone so you don’t have to watching him and inflating his ego by having him reaping with something obnoxious like “take a picture so you can use it for later”

You were so preoccupied, scrolling through your social media and texting back and fourth with your friends. When you looked up you didn’t expect to see the imprint of his cock in his grey sweats. Yes, Jaehyun was big, very very big, but you never thought it was to the point where you could very clearly see the imprint of him in his sweats—and his sweats are nowhere near being tight fitting, so it’s definitely taking you by surprise.

You were in a trance—watching him lift weights, the way the veins in his hands popped out had you swallowing. He could easily manhandle you however he wanted. You couldn’t stop staring at his crotch.

Jaehyun’s grunts are what bring you back to earth.

You decide to get up and leave before you do something stupid.

You weren’t aware, but Jaehyun knew you were staring. And yes, it did inflate his ego, which is not what you wanted.

You left Jaehyun alone to help your best friend with her wedding. You didn’t think you would enjoy it at first—expecting it to be boring and drag on a long time and praying for it to end, but you were actually having a really fun time. You liked helping her pick out what kind of flowers to have, what kind of dress she would like to have for the braidsmaids, and you were especially excited for the cake tasting.

“So Y/N, how have you and Jaehyun been doing?”

Her question took you by big surprise. She obviously is aware about what you have going on with your so called hot roommate Jaehyun who you now have a friends with benefits relationship with—she’s the one who suggested him be your roommate.

“We’re good, still living together”

“Still fucking?”

“Umm, not as much anymore”

“Not as much? What? Were you doing it every day”

“Not everyday, don’t be insane. Three times a week at the most” you would definitely do it everyday with him, heck even he has suggested to do it everyday, but you don’t have the kind of stamina that he has.

“Have you made a move?”

“I don’t like him”

“I’ve seen the way you look at him, it’s very obvious there’s some feelings there. I’m your best friend you can’t hide things from me” Of course you should’ve known that you can’t keep anything from her. The amount of times she has figured things out without you even telling her.

“Well if nothings going on, is he seeing someone?”

“Why would he be seeing someone?”

“Because you two aren’t dating? If you don’t make a move on him someone else will” you hate that the thought of him seeing someone had you not only upset but also jealous, wanting to fight whoever she is—wait she doesn’t even exist. You’re going crazy, he’s making you crazy.

“Can we talk about something else besides my lack of a love life” she smiles teasingly at you, almost in an evil way, knowing she hit a nerve with the question of him being with someone that’s not you.

“It wouldn’t be lacking if you stopped being stubborn, but fine. So, did you like the marble cake or the chocolate champagne more?”

You’re currently in the kitchen doing dishes. Today is your turn to do the dishes but you actually don’t mind it, you find it calming and relaxing. The room is very quiet considering Jaehyun isn’t there to bother you every 5 minutes by poking your cheeks to tell you he’s bored and to pay attention to him. Of course peace and quiet doesn’t last long living with Jung Jaehyun, as he soon steps into the kitchen wearing just a towel- wait, he’s wearing just a towel!

“Why are you wearing just a towel?!” You squeak as you cover your eyes with the lose towel hanging off a chair.

“I just took a shower” you felt Jaehyun’s presence, assuring you that he’s now behind you. “And why are you covering your eyes, you’ve seen me naked already”

“Jaehyun, that gross”

“That’s not what you usually say when I’m plowing you into my bed”

“Jaehyun I will kill you”

“Okay I’ll stop teasing you, for now. Do we still have the ice cream cake from Jeno’s birthday”

“That was over a month ago”

“Food is food” he’s staring at you wanting for you to answer his question.

“Gross, it’s in the freezer”

He hurries to the freezer, eager to have something sweet in his mouth. Of course he would prefer if it was you, but he’ll take what he can get.

“Are you sure you should be eating it?”

“Mind your business” he playfully snaps at you.

“If you need to go to the doctor because of it I’m not taking you” rolling his eyes in fake annoyance, he dives right into the last bit of cake there’s left.

You go back to washing the last few dishes there are left, not sparing Jaehyun a glance.

When you finally finish you’re relieved, excited to have one thing from your to do list done.

You notice Jaehyun in his own world, living his best life with the Oreo ice cream cake.

He licks the frosting off from his fingers, the veins in his hand popping out and having you feeling a type of way. You swallow, the sexual frustration getting the best of you as you imagine what his fingers could be doing. And it doesn’t help that he’s still in just a towel. You swear he’s doing it on purpose.

“Enjoying the show?” Jaehyun’s voice bring you back, seeing the way his eyes have darkened with lust now.

“N-No I’m fine” your voice shakes. Damn it.

“I don’t think you are” he walks towards you until he’s towering over you.

“You don’t know anything”

“No, but I do know you would love it if my fingers were licking someone sweeter that isn’t frosting, is that right? Or would you prefer is they were somewhere else? Somewhere that’s probably soaking wet?” He pulls your bottom lip with his thumb, making you suck on him. The way your tongue circles around him has him getting instantly hard. The eye contact you two told has your legs almost shaking.

You finally come to your senses, taking his fingers out of you mouth and running to your bedroom, painfully horny.

When you lay on your bed, you don’t waste much time you shove your fingers inside of you, wishing and imagination that it was Jaehyun’s fingers instead of yours. You quickly pump your fingers in and out, closing your eyes and picturing Jaehyun on top of you, enjoying the sight of your moans escaping your lips as he gets you off with just his fingers. Your trying your best to keep your moans low, feeling your climax about to wash over you. A few more pumps is all it takes to have your body shaking, your climax hitting you like a waterfall.

You didn’t check to make sure the door was all the way shut, making Jaehyun see and hear everything.

The sight of you getting yourself off with your fingers has him painfully hard. Jaehyun has to shower again, but this time not because he’s dirty or anything.

Jaehyun wraps his hand around his hard and angry cock, pumping up and down rapidly to reach his high. Is he ashamed to be getting off to the sight of his incredibly hot roommate? No, and it’s also not the first time, nor does he think it will be the last. He twists his hand to get off quickly, not wanting you to find out he showered again after already taking one not even two hours ago and questioning him.

You’re so fucking hot it makes him horny.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he gasps as the cold water hits his body. He pumps faster, his vision getting blurry as he releases onto the shower floor, the water washing it away and down the drain. He’s breathing heavily, acting like he actually just had sex. Now he actually does have to clean himself.

“Noooo” you whine to Jaehyun as he’s in the middle of picking out a movie to watch for movie night. “I don’t wanna watch a horror movie.”

“Why not? We watched one last week and you weren’t whining about it then”

“The ones you pick out are disturbing”

“Fine” he decides to play an action movie instead. “You’re such a baby”

“I hate you”

“Not what you were saying a few weeks ago”

“Just pick a movie” you leave him to make a bag of popcorn. When you come back he’s already sat on the couch, sitting there looking so cute and comfortable with his big grey hoodie and cheeks looking a lot like soft bread.

You remember the conversation you had with your best friend.

“What are you doing?” Jaehyun asks you when you sit on the other side of the couch away from him instead of making yourself comfortable in his arms like you usually do.

“I’m sitting down?”

“Nooo” he does grabby hands at you. “Come cuddle with me like you always do”

“And I’m the baby?”

“Just shut up and cuddle me” he pulls you into his side, laying his head on your shoulder and wrapping his hands around you.

You both really enjoyed the movie, Jaehyun occasionally making snarks remarks at the screen, but it’s not something new to you.

The movie finally ends, the ending credits rolling when he gets a call. He excuses himself to go to his room.

You figure you should clean up so you can head to bed and sleep. You’re walking past Jaehyun’s bedroom heading to yours when you pause, you don’t know what possessed you to listen in on his conversation, but you did.

“Are you going to make a move on her” you hear Johnny’s voice through the small gap in the door.

“I don’t know, I don’t even think she feels the same way” Jaehyun is sitting on his bed, rubbing his face in frustration. Whoever this girl is she must be special for him to be doing that. He’s usually someone who is good at hiding when he’s upset or frustrated.

“You’ll never know unless you tell her”

“Okay I will, soon”

Johnny’s loud sigh can be heard.

“I give up on you”

“How the hell are you sexually frustrated?” You’re on a video call with Mark. You all tell him everything, and when you first told him about the friends with benefits thing you started with Jaehyun, he wasn’t too happy about it, as you’re someone who easily catches feelings—remembering all the times you had fallen for someone new. It would be at the simplest gesture, like holding the door open for you or picking up your pen that fell on the floor.

“I just am. I haven’t done it with anyone in two weeks”

“Oh poor you” he’s mocking you, and you want to smack him in the face. “also, don’t you and Jaehyun have a thing going on?”

“Yeah- well we did”

“You did?”

“I overheard him talking with Johnny about having a crush and having feelings for this girl”

“Oh damn”

“Yeah, I just don’t wanna get in the way of that”

Mark isn’t able get anything out before you hear a knock at your door.

“Can we talk” Jaehyun’s voice is heard through the closed door.

“Oh, sure” you yell out to Jaehyun while hurrying to fix your hair. “Bye Mark”

“You’re hanging up on me? What happened to bros before hoe-“ you don’t let Mark finish his sentence.

“Come in” Jaehyun opens your door, and sits next to you on the bed.

“I wanted to walk to you about our relationship”

“I want to talk to you about that too. We should stop”

“What? Why?” He scared at you confused, wondering why you would want to stop something that was going so well—or so he thought.

“I know you like someone”

“You found out”

“Yeah. It was good while it lasted, but I don’t wanna get in the way of you and this girl-“

“Wait you really don’t know? You’re not just acting dumb to tease me?”

“Know what?”

“You’re the girl I like”

“Oh-OH!” You’re taken by complete shock. You never thought that someone like Jaehyun, who is so attractive and popular, would like someone like you. You thought the most you would have with him is sleeping together.

You both stare at each other before leaning in, your lips colliding. Your lips tangle with each other, tongues exploring each other’s mouths.

Jaehyun pulls away to kiss your neck, sucking and leaving mark’s on your skin.

“I’m going to make you feel like the most precious thing in the world” He starts kissing you again, pushing you down onto the bed and crawling on top of you. It doesn’t take long you you both to be naked. His gaze was dark and filled with lust. He rubs his tip up and down your slit before sinking into you. He gives you time to adjust before thrusting his hips repeatedly into you. The feeling this time is very different from all the others—usually it’s loveless and fast, eager to get each other to finish. But this time it’s full of love. He watches his cock go in and out of your pussy, the sight of you taking him making him even harder.

He thrusts into you harshly, sexually frustrated from you both not doing it for two weeks.

“Such a good girl for me” You clench around him as he ruts his cock into you. Jaehyun is smug, fueled by the fact that only he can make you feel this way. Quiet moans leave his lips while laying kisses on your neck.

“Fuck, you fill me up so well” You moan into his ear as he continuously sinks into you. You feel so full as his cock hits you in all the right places. His cock leaves a bulge in your lower tummy, having him almost passing out from the pleasure. Every moan you let out got him closer and closer to his high.

You both feel each other about to finish, making you wrap your hands around his neck for support as his pace starts to get sloppy.

“You’re going to take everything I give you, okay? Come all over my cock” Your whimpers have both of you finishing at the same time, his load filling you to the brim.

His warm cum coats your walls as you come down from your high. He pulls out once he’s done, starting at himself leaking out out of you. He puts up his shirt from the floor to clean you up, your pussy still sensitive from the penetration he just gave you.

Once he’s done he pulls you into his side, smiling at you and having his dimples pop out. You both get comfortable into bed, happy and excited for the new life you have together.

#nct smut #jaehyun au #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut

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peachesofteaches · 3 years

Text

Y/N is oblivious and Damon’s an asshole, isn’t he?

Request from @aestheticalien99 “can you do one where Damon and the reader are best friends and are on a trip with the entire scooby doo gang following an important supernatural lead. There's a lot of sexual tension throughout the trip that neither of them can shake and Damon snaps after neither of them can take it anymore.”

Y/N is oblivious and Damon’s an asshole, isn’t he?

Word Count: 9304

Damon was pissed. He didn’t like to be kept out of the loop and that’s exactly what Y/N did. He glares at her now, sitting at the edge of Bonnie’s bed with her arms crossed, eyebrows raised, and feet locked at the ankles. She’s such a brat, he thinks. He turns his back to her and paces the length of Bonnie’s room, trying to wrap his head around what they told him.

“So let me get this straight. You-” He points to Bonnie Bennett who’s leaned against a mountain of pillows, her yellow bedspread pulled up to her chest. “Are going to trade one of your family heirlooms for some necklace that is going to be the anchor to the other side. What are you going to do? Make it a fashion statement?”

Bonnie huffs and throws her hands up, looking at Y/N. “Why did you even tell him?”

“Because I don’t have a car, dummy. How else am I supposed to get to New Orleans?”

“Wait- New Orleans?” Damon says, his eyes widening. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on here?”

Y/N sighs like she does before she tells a story and Bonnie pinches the bridge of her nose, annoyed. “There's a witch in New Orleans who’s willing to do the spell. She can make the amulet the anchor to the other side instead of Bonnie. But she wants something in return and a Bennett heirloom is the best we got.”

She rattles off the details like she’s known them her whole life and Damon wonders how long they’ve kept this from him. He just saw her playing spades at The Grille last night and she didn’t have the sneaky look in her eye that she has now. Well, she did, but it was different. “Let’s say we get this amulet- then what? We just bring it back? No problems, no nothing?”

“Do you see dead people?” Bonnie asks, narrowing her eyes at him.

“No.”

“Then you’ll have no problems.” Bonnie grew to be thinner over the months. Her curls became loose and tangled around her face. Her eyes were sunken in with purple bags. Being the anchor was destroying her. Not only mentally but physically too. He decided not to press the topic anymore.

“Where did you get all this from, anyway? Because I know there wasn’t an ad on CraigsList.”

“Elena.” Y/N answers, leaning back on her elbows. Her hair pools at her arms, swaying with the movements of her head while she talks. “I guess she bumped into the witch a couple of days ago and they got to talking.”

“Elena? What is she doing talking to a witch?”

Y/N shrugs and cranes her neck to look at Bonnie. “Probably something with Rebekah. They’re serious now, you know? Like a proper couple.” She turns back to Damon, a smirk playing on her face. “You jelly?”

Damon huffs. “Shut up. You’ll have to stake me before I trust an Original.”

“Point me towards the stake,” Bonnie adds, her voice deadpan. Y/N snickers and swings her leg all pretty-like.

“And, one last question.” Damon locks eyes with her. “Why do you have to go?”

“Because the witch doesn't trust vampires. Rightfully so, I mean, your species does fuck over people on the reg.”

“No way. That just sounds like a trap. You have to be kidding me.”

“Am I kid-” She began, eyes flipping to Bonnie, then back to him. “Look at me, D. This is my serious face.”

Damon took a slow, deep breath through his nose. Held it. Then let it out. “Fine. But I’m not letting you out of my sight once we get to New Orleans and you better pack light. You bring a lot of shit with you.”

“God, grumpy pants. You act like I’m not saving your friend's life!” She yells after him as he leaves Bonnie’s bedroom. He thuds down the stairs, his boots heavy against the wood. When he reaches the Camaro he can hear them giggling from the open window. Y/N is crawling up the bed, her midi-length butterfly skirt wrinkling around her.

He reminds himself that he’s doing this for their sake because the guilt would eat him alive if he didn’t at least try. So that’s what he’s going to do but he’s not promising anything.

~*~*~

They leave the next morning. Damon picks Y/N up from her house, waving to her roommate from the rolled-down window. Her roommate loops her arms around her back for a loose hug, her eyes trained on Damon.

“You’re really going with him?” He hears her say.

“Yes. I’ll be back in like two days. Water my gardenias!” She yells as she throws her bag in the trunk, slamming it so hard the car rattles. She pulls open the passenger's door and sits in the front seat, leaning across the seat to press a chaste kiss to Damon’s cheek. “You look badass.”

“Just trying to scare people away from you. Ready?”

Y/N reaches across her body and buckles her seatbelt. “Ready.”

~*~*~

The neon sign of the motel blinks down at the parking lot. Y/N leans her head against the car window, listening to the persistent buzzing from the sign. She watches Damon move around inside the lobby, pulling out his wallet and paying for their room. He mutters something to the receptionist and walks through the glass double doors, spinning the blue key on his pinky finger.

“You ready to go inside, cutie?” He asks, pulling open the passenger's side. Y/N stretches her legs as she stands, wrapping her fingers around Damon’s hand as he pulls her up.

They lug their overnight bags into the motel, even though Damon does most of the carrying. When Y/N jiggles the door open and steps inside, she’s met with an antlered TV facing a single queen bed. She scoffs and looks over her shoulder as Damon shimmies his way into the room.

“How did I know you would get a single bed?”

Damon chuckles, dropping the bags by the door. “Because I know you secretly want to sleep next to me.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, flopping onto the scratchy duvet, breathing in its powdery smell. Damon lays next to her, reaching over her body to flip on the lamp. The yellow glow illuminates the room, reflecting against the small window that overlooks the blackening sky and the motel's pool.

Y/N crawls up the bed and tucks herself into Damon’s side, kicking off her sandals and pressing her cold toes into the denim of his jeans. Damon runs a warm hand over her back then strokes her hair behind her ear.

“You sleepy?” He asks, his voice vibrating in his chest beneath her ear. She shakes her head, peeling her eyes open. She’s lying. Y/N can’t remember the last time she had a decent night's sleep. Between school, work, and her best friend's deteriorating health there hasn’t been a lot of time for her to get good sleep.

“No.” She sits up, bowing her head over Damon’s so that her hair brushes against his cheeks. “Do you think the pool is open?”

“At-“ he cranes his neck to look at the alarm clock. “9:30? I doubt it.”

Y/N pouts and sits back on her ankles, drumming her fingers on her knees. “But I’m bored. Can you ask? Pleasey?”

One of her favorite things about being best friends with a vampire is the compulsion skill. Obviously, she doesn't condone acts that violate someone's free will. However, harmless acts like getting the key to a rooftop, or compelling someone to turn a blind eye, aren’t horrible.

Damon throws an arm over his eyes and grunts out, “There’s a TV, baby.” Y/N pounces on top of him, straddling his waist and using all the strength she can muster to pull his arm away from his face. To the untrained eye, it would appear that he was unamused by her antics. However, Y/N catches the smirk on his lips and moves her hands down to poke at his sides.

Suddenly, she’s being pinned down against the bed, and Damon’s hovering on top of her, holding her wrists in his hands. “You’re a brat, you know that?”

She smiles and squirms underneath him. Not because she’s trying to escape, but because she’s bored and irritating Damon is the closest thing to entertainment. “You’re a brat, you know that?” She mocks, deepening her voice to an obnoxious extent.

Damon lets go of her wrists only to tickle at her sides forcing a series of giggles from her. His fingers move from her hips to her tummy, to her armpits while she shakes her head and pleads for mercy. She continues thrashing around under his body, unable to escape the attack. She laughs so hard tears form at the corners of her eyes, blinding her vision, and making it hard to catch her breath.

“You gonna be nice?” He taunts, continuing to tickle her, and Y/N gasps between panting out a series of “yes”-es that are muffled by her laughter. Damon’s hands stop but he doesn't move, instead, running a thumb against the outer corner of her eyes, smirking as he gathers the stray tears.

“Did you even bring a bathing suit?” He asks, moving to stand and fix his hair in the mirror.

“No. I was just gonna wear what I have on now.”

“Naughty little thing,” Damon mutters. “If the lady at the desk is wearing vervain I’m going to tickle you until you turn blue.”

She ignores the arousal that spurs in her abdomen and perches on her knees, making little hills in the blankets. Her chest is still heaving after being tickled and she feels the places where his fingers grazed her skin. They’re still warm and tingly, just like the feeling in her tummy.

~*~*~

He compels the receptionist easily, shushing her safety concerns with reassurances. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there watching her the whole time.”

When he gets back to the room Y/N is standing in the middle of the room with a bath towel wrapped around her frame, the lace of her bralette peeking out of the top. Her face lights up when he closes the door behind him. “What happened?”

“She said you can go swimming only under one condition-” He saunters towards her holding up his pointer finger. “- you must say,‘I, Y/N, believe that Damon Salvatore is the most attractive, intelligent, and funniest person in the world.”

Y/N squeals and claps her hands together, bouncing on her tiptoes. “You’re the most attractive, intelligent, and funniest person in the world!” She exclaims, throwing her arms around him. The towel drops off her body and before Damon can utter a sly comment about her cute body she picks it up and heads for the door.

“Are you coming?”

Honestly, how could he say no?

~*~*~

Y/N jumps in the pool almost immediately, leaving the bath towel strewn across a wicker lounge chair. Damon sits on the edge of the chair, keeping his promise to the receptionist and watching her closely. Her hair falls in wet strands down her back, meeting the band of her black bralette. She’s wearing baby blue panties with white paisleys and Damon eyes the small little bow at the front of them. She’s absolutely -adorable- yet sexy at the same time. She’s a puzzle he can’t figure out but he finds himself growing more aroused as she bobs in the water, making her way to the ledge where he’s sitting.

“Come innnnnn- please.” She whines, cocking her head like a brat. “I have nobody to play mermaids with.”

Damon scoffs and shakes his head. “Nope. You’ve pushed far enough tonight.”

She lifts herself out of the pool, dripping across the concrete as she steps towards Damon, leaving water droplets on his clothes. “Then I will push you in.”

“I would love to see you try, little lady.”

She smirks and shakes out her wet hair on his face, sending water flying all over him and his leather jacket. Anybody else and he would’ve been pissed, but this was his best friend. His bratty best friend. He stands and wrestles her back into the pool, shedding off his clothes until he’s left in just his boxers. He jumps in after her, pushing aside the water to grab onto her slimy little body, hoisting her against his chest.

“What has gotten into you?” He laughs, dunking her under the water. “You’re acting like a spoiled little brat.”

She fastens her arms around his neck and Damon slips an arm under her legs, the other behind her back. Water droplets gather on her eyelashes and she wipes them away with the back of her hand. “But I got you to come in, didn’t I?”

Damon smirks again, amused by his girl. Her eyes are wide as saucers and she wears a smile so bright it's almost blinding. He’s overcome with the sudden urge to kiss her. Her lips are perfectly pink and he imagines that they would be soft. She might taste like chlorine at first, but then like the strawberry lemonade she had from Wendy’s earlier.

She kicks her legs, splashing the water and sending some up to his face, drawing him out of his loving daze. “Stop looking at me like that! You’re going to make me fall in love with you.” She exclaims and for once Damon’s glad that he’s the only vampire here. He doesn't want her to hear how his breathing becomes heavy and his heartbeat speeds.

He jostles her body in his arms, making her giggle. “Don’t act like you’re not already head over heels for me, brat. I know you’re seduced by my mischievous ways.”

~*~*~

Y/N takes a shower while Damon changes into a pair of sweatpants. He peels back the covers on the bed and flicks through the cable TV, finding nothing but old Law and Order episodes. When Y/N comes out of the bathroom the smell of her fragrant pomegranate shampoo floats into the room. She’s dressed in an oversized Nirvana shirt that brushes the middle of her thighs and socks that picture a cow jumping over a moon. She’s running a brush through her hair when she sits down at the edge of the bed.

Her eyes are red-rimmed from the chlorine and Damon can tell by the way that she’s sitting with a slouch in her shoulders, she’s exhausted. He frowns and pats the other side of the bed, waiting for her to finish with her hair before she crawls up next to him. Wordlessly, they cuddle against one another, Damon’s fingers stroke her wet hair while his other hand draws circles over her hip bone.

She yawns and sniffles and rubs at her eyes with a knuckle. “Thank you.” She says quietly, her voice all sleepy and cute. He squeezes her closer and drops a kiss on her hairline, feeling more affectionate than a best friend should. Y/N notices the butterflies in her stomach and shuffles even closer until she’s flush against his cotton shirt, inhaling his smell. Cinnamon with the sweet fragrance of lavender soap.

“Get some sleep. We’ve got an early morning.”

She doesn't want to sleep. Damon’s being soft with her and she wants to be awake to experience it, but he’s lulling her to sleep with his steady breathing and soft caresses. Once she succumbs to the weight of sleep, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he looks down at her, noticing the way the glow of the television softens the expression on her face. Her body is limp against him and he can’t recall anybody being this comfortable around him before. He likes knowing that she trusts him.

He thinks back to what she said at the pool and tries not to confuse himself interpreting the meaning behind what she said. Was she joking? Y/N didn’t seem like the type to joke about something like that… and if she was serious- well, what did that mean for him?

He strokes the side of her face as his mind wanders. The urge to kiss her grows inside his abdomen and he presses a gentle kiss to her cheek, but she doesn't stir and he finds himself wanting to kiss her even more.

~*~*~

She wakes up before Damon and tries waiting as long as she can before she attempts to untangle herself from his arms. Except that she has to pee and Damon's leg is slung across her hips. She tiptoes to the bathroom after rolling out of his arms and double-checking that he was still sleeping. As she sits down to do her business, she brings a hand to her cheek, replaying last night's events. She faintly remembers him kissing her cheek and all the soft strokes he left on her face and arms. It makes her shiver.

She brushes her teeth as quietly as she can. Damon’s easy to wake up with his sensitive hearing and abilities and although he won’t admit it, she knows that he’s tired too. After brushing her teeth, she washes her face and then tip-toes back into the room, curling up under the blankets again.

Damon stirs next to her and she freezes as he peels an eye open. He grunts and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her across the sheets so that her back is flush against his bare chest. She can feel the warmth radiating from his skin through the fabric of her shirt. She feels something else too, something hard poking the flesh of her bum. Her cheeks go hot when she realizes what's poking her but she makes no effort to move.

She remembers Elena talking about Damon’s dick before. She said it was bigger than Stefan’s and she couldn’t walk the next morning. Caroline grimaced and squealed “ew!” but Y/N listened to the conversation intently. Shamefully creating a picture in her mind.

She’s pulled from her thoughts by Damon moving his hand underneath the hem of her shirt and placing it on her tummy. The warmth from his large hand covering her abdomen sparks another fire of arousal and she draws her legs up, squeezing her thighs together. The pair were no strangers to touching each other. It was a game to a certain extent. “How many loving caresses can I give you before you fall in love with me?”

That is if they weren’t in love with each other already.

“Wha’ times it?” Damon mumbles and Y/N blinks, focusing on the digitized numbers on the alarm clock.

“Seven.”

He grunts and nuzzles into her shoulder, drawing in a breath. “You smell good.”

Like fresh linen and pomegranates. He can pick up on his scent lingering on her skin, almost claiming her. To any other supernatural they would know not to touch her. He likes it that way because she’s -his- girl. And if smelling like him is going to keep her safe then so be it.

It’s the smell of her that makes him realize how horny he is. His dick is rock hard pressed into her ass cheeks and he shuffles back a bit, embarrassed at himself. God, he needs to get in control.

He moves into the bathroom and turns on the shower where he stands under the stream of water and runs a vigorous hand over himself. He thinks of her warm body and all her soft parts as he tugs on his dick, eventually coming hard with a hand pressed against the grimey tile of the shower. He comes so hard that he has to lean against it while he regains strength in his legs.

After he composes himself, he exits the bathroom wearing a loose pair of jeans and a button-up. He runs a hand through his wet hair as he turns the corner, his eye-catching his best friend sitting criss-cross on the bed. The curtains had been thrown open and sunlight poured into the room, catching her messy hair in its rays. She tears her eyes away from her phone and smiles when they fall upon Damon.

He feels the warmth in his abdomen again. It’s going to be a difficult day trying to ignore it.

~*~*~

They hit the road once Y/N is quieted with a Starbucks coffee Damon nearly ripped his hair out trying to order. Eventually, he just had her lean over him and say the order, but then she placed both of her hands on his thigh to keep her balance. (Which made him uncomfortably horny for the next hour.)

The drive from Atlanta to New Orleans was roughly seven-and-a-half hours, similar to their drive yesterday. For the first two hours, they kept the radio at full volume, nodding along to their favorite songs. They have a similar music taste which was one of the first things Damon liked about the girl. She liked the 90’s punk scene, although she was only a toddler when it was alive. And she listened to more than just Nirvana.

It sounded cliché of him to say but she -wasn’t- like the other girls she had dated.

Damon kept the windows down and the AC off, letting the cool winds of the road flow through the car. Also, he just liked the way Y/N’s baby hairs floated around her face as he drove. She relaxed in the passenger's seat with one arm resting on the window, the other drumming on her knee. A pair of his sunglasses were perched on her nose that she kept having to push up to her eyes.

Her phone kept pinging with messages from Elena and Bonnie. She went back and forth with the two, sharing updates on their whereabouts. The thought of what was coming was making anxiety churn in his stomach. He looked over to Y/N trying to gauge her emotions but he couldn’t place them when her eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses.

Two hours pass and Damon pulls off to a McDonalds four hours outside of New Orleans. The golden arches gleamed like a beacon in the night above the empty, rural, landscape of Alabama. Once Damon backed the car into an empty spot, Y/N leaped out of her seat, dashing towards the double doors, heading for the bathrooms. Damon followed after, fumbling in the pocket of his leather jacket for a twenty as he ordered a drink for himself and a happy meal for Y/N.

He found a booth hidden behind one of the displays where he emptied a blood bag into the drink cup, sipping graciously. Y/N slipped into the opposite side of the booth, her hair twisted into another bun. Her shoulders were slumped, a telltale sign that something was wrong.

Damon nudged her foot with his. “What’s wrong, brat?”

“Are you nervous at all?” She asked, her eyes fixed on the ketchup stains on the table.

He took a long sip of the blood before leaning across the table. “I’m going to meet a witch nobody has met, trusting Rebekah Mikealson’s word, and doing it with you… a human. Nervous doesn't even begin to describe how I feel.”

Y/N frowned and sighed. “I know. Me too. I trust Elena but still…”

Damon took her hand between his, calling her name until she looked up at him. “Hey, nothing is going to happen to you. Not while I’m around and I don’t plan on leaving you alone.”

“That’s-” She takes a shaky breath and Damon nearly cringes at how hard she’s biting her lip. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried about you.”

“Me? Why are you worried about me?”

She shrugs and her eyes drop again. Damon lets her mind wander as he waits patiently for her to gather her thoughts. “You’re always getting hurt for others. I don’t want that to happen because of me.”

Damon sighed, sinking into the rubber cushions of the booth. The cashier called his name and slid a red happy meal box across the counter. He looked back to his best friend, her brow fixed in worry.

“Look, baby. We’re going to be okay. I’m sure of it. And when we get out of this I’m going to snuggle the fuck out of you and I will play with your hair all day if you want.” That brings a smile out of her and he feels the tightness in his chest loosen when her eyes start to sparkle again.

She extends her pinky finger to him and he wraps his own around it. She kisses her thumb and he kisses his. -Promise.-

~*~*~

With her tummy warm with the happy meal she devoured, and her anxieties softened by Damon’s reassurances, Y/n falls asleep thirty minutes into them getting back on the road. The radio continues shuffling through her playlists, jumping from Sisters of Mercy to Melvins, to Babes in Toyland. Everything screamed Y/N and Damon drove on surrounded by her favorite songs.

He was closing in on the last two hours of the trip and had begun chewing on the inside of his cheek, a nervous habit he picked up from his father. He worried his mind with “what if’s” and “worst-case scenarios”. He was reluctant to trust Rebekah’s connection and more reluctant to send in Y/N.

She was human at the end of the day and despite her sharp tongue and stubbornness, she was still fragile.

Y/N was Bonnie’s friend before she was Damon’s and when he initially met her he was intrigued. Of course, he made jokes about being friends with a human. He admits he gazed at her neck and fought the hunger that surged. Except, after she and Bonnie had drunkenly collapsed on her queen bed and Damon mentioned he wasn’t tired, Y/N rolled over to her stomach then said, “What are you, a vampire?”

They had been friends ever since.

She stirs in her sleep, wrinkling her nose and allowing her legs to fall open revealing the smooth flesh on the inside of her thighs. He craves her body. He wants to press his face to the softest parts of her. Bite them, nuzzle them, stroke them.

He lets his fingers draw squiggles over the skin, making figure 8’s around the freckles. There’s a glimpse of a smile on her lips and he watches as her body melts into the passenger's seat again, a content sigh falling from her mouth.

He isn’t sure of what the plan entails, but he knows one thing for certain. He won’t let anything happen to Y/N. He promised her.

~*~*~

She woke up shortly thereafter, the evening sun glowing against her face. They were thirty minutes out from New Orleans and the tension in the car was so palpable it was making Y/N uncomfortable.

Damon’s hands were rung around the wheel, his knuckles white against the black leather. Y/N considered texting Bonnie and tackling the idea of canceling the exchange. There has to be another way. Then she thought of her best friend bed-ridden, shaking with the trauma that came with being the anchor to the other side. There was no other option. Not unless it was at Bonnie’s expense.

Damon moved his hand to the gears and she felt the car shift underneath her. She slid her fingers between his and squeezed looking up at him.

Damon diverted his eyes to the road, mulling over the thoughts in his head. He squeezed back and ran his thumb against her hand. “If anything goes south. You and I leave. We will find something else for Bonnie. But I can’t-“ He swallows and ducks his head. “I can’t lose you.”

Her heart soars. Nobody has ever wanted her like this before. She fights the tears that crowd her throat and leaves her hand with Damon’s to be stroked and caressed. “You won’t lose me.”

They pull into New Orleans too soon and Y/N dials Elena, listening to her rattle off street names that Damon follows, leading them to a purple Victorian-style house. Elena and Rebekah are standing on the curb, both wearing black jeans and color-coordinating blouses. Elena smiles at Y/N when she gets out of the car, giving her a light hug even though her eyes are moving past her shoulder to look at Damon.

Maybe another day Damon would have fallen for her doe eyes and apple cheeks, but now he’s too wrung up with worry to bother. He locks the Camaro and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He just wants to get this over with. He watches as Elena introduces Y/N to Rebekah, who looks older now that her hair is short at her collarbones. The Original extends a pale hand to Y/N to shake, a tight smile on her face.

Damon steps up on the curb where the women are standing and clears his throat. “So what’s the plan? Do you even have a plan?”

Rebekah scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “What a kind greeting, you twat.” She looks at Y/N. “And you’re really friends with this bloke? Can’t imagine.”

Y/N purses her lips and stays quiet, waiting for someone to answer Damon’s question.

“Okay, first. Rebekah has known Sadie for a while. She’s someone you can trust.” Elena says, looking between the two. She turns to Damon and narrows her eyes. “However, she has a strict no vampire policy.”

Both Y/N and Damon protest at the same time, arguments forming in their head. “What do you mean ‘no vampire policy’ so none of us are going to go in with her? How are we going to make sure this isn’t some scam to steal a Bennett heirloom?”

“Jesus, Damon. Get a grip.” Rebekah groans, craning her neck in irritation. “Would it kill you to trust someone?”

Y/N sighs all shakily before she speaks, “What do I have to do?”

“Do you have the heirloom on you?” Elena asks and Y/N nods. “Sadie is going to perform the exchange inside. After it is done she will transfer the anchor from Bonnie to the amulet.”

“Easy as that?” Y/N asks, reluctant about the simplicity of the plan.

“Easy as that,” Elena responds. “Are you ready?”

Y/N looks back at Damon whose face is fixed in worry. He nods at her and Y/N’s heart drops when he doesn't say anything to her. She turns away and walks up the front steps by herself, the Bennett heirloom heavy in her pocket. She knocks on the door three times.

~*~*~

Damon feels awful. He should’ve said something to her but he was too much of a coward. Now, he waits leaning against the railing of Sadie’s front porch. Rebekah and Elena offered him a drink at the bar a few blocks over but he denied it. He wasn’t going to leave her. He promised.

They left him with the address to the abattoir and an invitation for dinner and spending the night. It’s as close to a peace offering as he’s going to get from the two so he accepts. Really, he accepted for Y/N’s sake. She’ll want a warm bed when she’s done. Maybe a shower. Then he’ll hold her and never let her go.

~*~*~

Sadie is an old woman with braided silver hair that hangs by her ribcage. It sways every time she walks. Y/N watches her from the red velvet couch in front of the fireplace, a steaming mug of lemon-ginger tea between her hands. On the antique table, the heirloom and the amulet lay side-by-side between a single black candle.

Around them, the table is sprinkled with rosemary and thyme. Sadie comes back into the sitting room, a grimoire under her arm. Her smile is kind and her eyes are soft when they reach Y/N. She groans as she lowers herself to the cushions, thumbing the pages in the book.

“That vampire you came with is waiting outside for you.” She says and Y/N nods slowly. It brings some sort of comfort to her to know he’s close by. “Are you two together?”

Y/N nearly chokes on her drink. “No, no. He’s my best friend.”

“Ah.” The woman says in understanding, staring into the fire. “Does he know that?”

Y/N cocks her head in confusion, lowering the mug from her lips. “I’m not sure what you mean…”

“Love, my dear, is a blessing and a curse. Especially with a vampire.” She sighs and opens the cover, flipping through the pages. “They’re possessive in nature, so I’m not surprised he’s hanging around… but don’t think on it too hard.” She pats Y/N’s knee swiftly before finding her page and standing. “We have other things to worry about. Now, I don’t need you to do anything except witness the spell. I will wrap the amulet for you and send you on your way once it has been done. Do not place the amulet in direct sunlight as it will stain the crystal. I trust you will inform the witch of this, correct?”

Y/N nods almost as if she’s in a trance watching Sadie begin the ceremony. She lights the black candle with a breath and fixes her eyes on Y/N. “Then let us begin.”

~*~*~

Two hours later, once the sun had set on the city of New Orleans, the porch light switched on.

Damon stirs and lifts a hand to cover his eyes from the glare. He stands suddenly when the front door opens and he sees two shadows in the doorway. Y/N steps out first, her face is paler than he remembers and her eyes have lavender circles underneath them. Behind her stands an old woman who appears to be in the same condition. They both look exhausted.

Y/N turns to the woman and thanks her before taking one of Damon’s hands, the two bouncing down the porch together. The door closes behind them and the porch light shuts off as they settle inside the Camaro. Y/N pulls a purple satchel from her pocket and tucks it in the glove compartment.

Damon reaches across the console and squeezes her knee. “You ok?”

She nods. “I’m just tired.”

“Elena and Rebekah offered us a room at their place. I figured it would be better than a motel. As long as you’re okay with it.”

She nods again and leans her head against the window, blinking slowly. Damon turns on the car, perturbed by his best friend's odd silence. He understands that she’s tired, they’ve had a long day and magic doesn't help. Except, that she’s not usually this quiet. He wants to press her for answers about what’s on her mind but he decides against it, instead, driving towards the Mikealsons.

Y/N sits with her knees pulled to her chest, staring out the window. Exhaustion is nipping at her bones but, even more, Sadie’s words replay in her head. “Love, my dear, is a blessing and a curse.”

She doesn't know what to say to Damon because she’s worried that it's all going to come bubbling out of her without warning. It’s not like Sadie was wrong. She hit the nail on the head and now the truth sat in Y/N’s stomach like a brick.

Damon parks in front of the apartment, noticing their balcony is strung up in lights. They climb out of the car together and Damon waits for Y/N to round the car before he grabs her hand, forcing her to face him. “Hey, why are you so quiet, hmm?”

“I’m just tired, D.” She responds and he frowns, stroking the curve of her cheek with a thumb.

“You’re all quiet and spacy. Got me worried.” He says, pulling her into his chest. “Did everything go ok?”

Y/N nods against him, fastening her arms around his hips. The weight of her eyelids pulls them closed and she leans her body weight against him. “It went perfectly.”

He rubs her back tenderly before he tilts her chin up to him. His eyes are so soft they make her unhushed feelings swim inside her tummy. “Good.”

His face is so close to hers she can smell the faint tang of blood that carries itself on his breath. She blinks up at him, eyes alternating from his to his lips. He smiles and pulls her into him once more. “Let’s get inside, brat. The terrible two picked up dinner. I’ll eat it first to make sure it’s not poisoned.”

She chuckles lightly but her chest feels deflated when he steps away.

~*~*~

The abattoir is something out of a movie. She suspected nothing less from the Mikelson family but she is surprised nonetheless. The inside of the abattoir is lush with greenery and leaves blow across the tile when Elena opens the door. There’s a running fountain in the center of the room holding wishes of quarters and dimes. Antique lamps are lit between blue double doors casting a cozy hue over the place.

Elena guides them through the mansion, bubbling over the Creole dinner Rebekah picked up. In the kitchen, Rebekah is serving pasta primavera and shrimp Creole on plates. She smiles at Y/N when they walk in. “How did everything go?”

“It went.. fine.” Y/N answers, still surprised at the answer herself. Over the years she’s been friends with supernaturals, missions like this one often end in tragedy. “There were no issues at all.”

“Now see, what did I tell you?” Rebekah responds, pulling down four wine glasses. “Elena, dear, would you grab us a bottle of wine? She places a glass in front of Y/N. “Do you drink?”

Y/N nods, barely forming a yes because the wine glass is so intricately designed her hands feel grubby touching it. Elena returns with an aged bottle of wine that pours deliciously into the glass. “Damon there's Jefferson's Bourbon if you would like some.” Rebekah offers once she’s finished pouring and Damon gasps, clapping his hands together.

“Oh, Rebekah, I knew you loved me.”

She rolls her eyes as she pulls out the bottle, sliding it across the granite countertop. “Shut up before I spike it with vervain.”

They bring their plates and glasses into the dining room where the table is lit with white tea candles, a red linen table runner stretches down the center of the dark wood table decorated with assorted plants. The pairs sit across from each other as the candlelight illuminates their faces.

They eat the meal in comfortable conversation. Divulging into stories about the girl's recent trip to Barcelona and Rome. Y/N shakes her head in disbelief but softens when she sees the sparkle in her friend's eye. She can tell she loves her girlfriend and she’s never seen her look happier.

After dinner, their meals are warm in their stomachs and cheeks slightly flushed. The meal ends pleasantly with lighthearted joking among Rebekah, Elena, and Damon as they tell stories from their previous missions. Damon even pokes at his past relationship with Elena and she laughs. Which surprised Y/N entirely.

They clear the plates together, stacking them in the sink to be cleaned before Elena shows the two the upstairs bedrooms. Rebekah follows behind them, teasing if they share a bedroom. Damon looks down at Y/N, his eyebrows raised in question.

She tugs one of his fingers. “Yeah, we share a room.”

“Gross.” Rebekah tuts, opening the door to one of the rooms at the end of the hall. “You can sleep in here. There's a bathroom and everything.”

She and Elena bid the pair goodnight, slipping back down the hallway in a series of giggles. Y/N cautiously steps into the room, the blue and red Persian rug soft beneath her feet. She shuffles over to the window, pulling back the curtain to look out upon the city. She can hear the distant music coming from The French Quarter and she opens the balcony door, stepping into the cool night air.

Damon appears beside her, his elbows on the railing. They gaze at the dim lights together, watching groups of people stroll by the mansion.

“Have you ever been to New Orleans before?” Damon asks and Y/N shakes her head.

“I was gonna go for my twenty-first, but then found out that it’s crawling with vampires.”

Damon snickers and leans back, using the railing to stretch out his shoulders. “That it is. Kind of like Mystic Falls except here, all the humans taste like alcohol.”

Y/N grimaces, hiding the smile that spreads on her face. “Gross.”

“I’m just playing with you,” Damon says, turning to his best friend, gazing at her profile. The wind has the little wisps of her hair fluttering around her forehead. She looks angelic. She catches his eyes and blushes, facing the other direction.

“Stop staring at me.”

“I’m not staring. I’m gazing. You’re beautiful.” He retorts, the compliment rolling off his tongue before he can catch it. Y/N softens and tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. He can hear her heartbeat from where she stands and it increases when he takes a step towards her, then another. He places his hands at her hips, shifting her to face him.

Her eyes are glittery with the night and the two glasses of wine she had. Not enough to be drunk, but enough to where she feels good. Damon feels good too, he feels confident. Like he wants to kiss her and all he has to do is ask.

“Can I kiss you?” Y/N asks, a blush forming at her cheeks. Damon chuckles and takes her cheeks between his hands.

“But I was just about to ask you, brat.”

“Then do it.” She responds, her voice light and airy. His lips touch her so softly she barely even registers that he’s kissing her until his tongue swipes her bottom lip. She opens up for him easily, parting her mouth and meeting her tongue to his. They shuffle into the room, landing on the bed in a -woosh- against the sheets. He breaks the kiss attaching his lips to her jaw where he leaves a sloppy line that has her heart racing.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that for so long.” He says, breathless and panting. “Wanted to kiss you so bad at the pool. So pretty-” His words are cut short when she pulls him in again. Her heart hammers wildly in her chest as she leans further into the cushions.

It’s then that Y/N notices how right this feels. They kiss each other so easily like they’ve been doing it their whole life. She was worried it would be awkward because he’s Damon Salvatore and she’s just Y/N. He’s been kissing for hundreds of years and she’s only had, one boyfriend. Except, all that is true. She’s not as experienced as he is and she doesn't want to be babied. Or ashamed. Damon notices the sudden change in her body language and pulls away, looking down at her with a concerned expression.

“What happened, hmm?” He strokes at her hair, moving a stray strand behind her ear.

“I just-” She sighs, unsure how to vocalize her awkwardness. “I’m not good at… this.”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean you’re not good? Babe- you’re perfect.”

“I-” He cuts her off with another kiss, moving his tongue into her mouth. He swirls his tongue around her and she relishes how warm and wet it feels inside of her mouth. There’s already arousal pooling in her abdomen and it deepens steadily until she’s clenching her thighs together.

He parts from her, eyes twinkling at her swollen lips and messy hair. His fingers stroke at her skin leaving goosebumps and tingles in their trail before he finds the sensitive spot beneath her ear. His licking and kissing at the spot brings pretty moans out of her that have his pants tightening.

The feeling of his tongue on her skin is intoxicating, drawing pitiful reactions out of her. He runs his lips down to her throat, then her collarbones, and she wonders if he’s going to bite her. Of course, he would ask first but the thought of it excites her nonetheless. She feels her blood rising on the spots where he suckled long enough to leave marks and he circles gentle fingers around his spots.

“Wanted to mark you.” He says, bending to peck her gently. “Cuz you’re mine now, just so you know.”

Y/N gasps when his hands find her hips, moving the hem of her shirt up achingly slow. She wiggles until he pulls the fabric over her head revealing her black demi bra. His mouth practically waters at the sight of her breasts, large enough that he can fit into the palm of his hand and squeeze. She moans hungrily, embarrassing herself because she feels so demure and shy. He leaves small bite marks across the surface of her boobs and she knows that they’ll be there in the morning to remind her of everything.

When she props her leg up her knee rubs against his pick and he groans, all needy and gravely. He sucks in a breath and blows it out across her wet skin. “Fuck, baby. Got me all worked up.”

She smirks, usually his move, and thumbs at the belt loops of his jeans. “Can I see you, please?” She asks in her prettiest voice, pouting her lips in the way that always works with him. He lets her unclasp his belt buckle and slide it from the loops. The leather thuds against the Persian rug beside the bed and Damon shrugs himself out of his jeans, his erection straining against the denim.

He bites his lip as he pulls himself out of his boxers, his pink cock flipped up towards his stomach, revealing the admirable length. Elena wasn’t lying, his dick really was big. She pushed his boxes off his hips and towards his thighs where hair ran in small black spirals. He was beautiful all over, muscular yet soft. Precum glistens against the pink tip, similar to the way his lips looked after they had been kissing for a while.

“You’re so… big and really pretty.” She says and Damon seeks her lips again, pushing them together again and beginning to work at the button of her bellbottoms. A soft sigh leaves his mouth when she lifts her bottom so that the jeans slide off her legs easily.Y/N closes her fingers around the base of Damon’s dick, using the slick that had gathered at the top to help glide her hand up and down the shaft. He moans deep, grinding himself into her hand. “Yes, baby, just like that. So good..”

Her other hand runs up to his stomach, fingers dancing on his muscular abdomen. His eyes are closed in an erotic bliss and when she runs the pad of her thumb over his leaking tip he shivers and backs away. “You’re going to make me cum, cutie. You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?”

Y/N nods bashfully, blinking in wonder as he peels off his shirt, tossing it towards their pile of discarded clothes. She’s hungry for him and she can feel herself growing wetter by the second. She’s sure there's a wet spot on her panties and Damon confirms her suspicion when he runs a finger against it, smirking at the way her hips buck up. “Sweet girl, you’re all wet.”

He gets close to her ear again, kissing the shell of it, feeling the cold of her earrings against his lips. “Can I see you, baby?”

Her breath catches in her throat as Damon pulls her panties down her thighs and her hips buck up at the cold air that meets her pussy. On instinct, she closes her legs, bashfulness building inside of her making her feel all awkward. Except that Damon spreads her legs a moment later, keeping his large hands on her knees. “Don’t hide from me, brat. Let me see you.”

He kisses the bones of her hips, dragging his teeth along her smooth skin. She smells so good, like all of his favorite parts about her and then sex. She’s practically dripping with it. The aroma is fragrant in the air and he wonders if the other vampires in the house can smell it. He doesn't care though. They’ve waited too long and she opens up for him so beautifully.

Her whines are so pitiful sounding as he leaves sloppy kisses up the fleshy part of her thighs, stopping when he’s breaths away from her center. She tugs at his hair and attempts to buck her hips but his hands are still at her knees. “Please, Damon, please.”

“Please.” He mocks, smirking at her. “You’re so cute when you’re begging. Tell me what you want me to do, baby.”

“I want you to- I want-” Her words get jumbled in her mouth because suddenly he’s running his tongue up her slit. She tastes like sweetness and the slightest tang. She’s pure delight and it’s making it hard to keep his fangs up when he’s getting this riled.

“Mmm. I know what you want. You want me to play with your pretty pussy, don't you?” She nods. “So sweet, my sweet girl. You gonna let me eat you? Gonna come on my tongue like a good girl?”

All this teasing has her getting worked up and Damon loves to see it. Loves to see her fall apart for him. The noises leaving her are sweet whimper-y moans. She’s trying so hard not to be loud and her bitten bottom lip shows her efforts. He flicks his tongue over her clit, challenging her. He does it again and again, burying his face against her, immersing himself in -her.- It’s one of the most pleasant experiences and he thinks he’ll never get enough. He moves his hands from her knees to wrap around her thighs, hooking them over his shoulders. Her ankles brush his muscular back, hitting the skin at a steady pace once he really starts eating her. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes. Yes, oh god.” She rolls her hips up to meet his tongue, feeling the heat in her tummy build.

“Know you wanna cum. Be patient for me, sweet girl.”

She waits, trying to be good, until his tongue dips into her hole, swirling around until her thighs are shaking and she’s gripping onto the bedsheets. Damon loops his fingers with hers, humming when she squeezes them on instinct. “D, I… I think… I’m going to c-”

He sucks harder, pulling her clit between his lips and inserting his fingers into her weepy pussy. Scissoring her as she goes over the edge with an orgasm that has her back raising off the mattress. His fingers are thick inside of her, stretching her walls to a pleasurable amount. He milks her through one of the most intense orgasms of her life, finding the spongy bump inside of her, and licking off his lips as he watches her face. “There we go. You’re so good, such a good girl. How did that feel?”

He removes his fingers and draws them close to her lips that fall open, taking his pointer and middle finger between her lips. She swirls her tongue around her digits before she sucks on them wetly, blinking at him with blown-out doe eyes. His heart flutters because he’s not even done with her yet.

“Felt really good.” She says around his fingers, whining when they leave her mouth. He thumbs at the pout on her lips. “I want you to fuck me.”

He’s taken aback by the boldness, something he wasn't expecting from such a sweet thing like Y/N. His dick hardens at her words, though, and he meets her lips. “You sure?” He mumbles the question against her lips. “You think you’re gonna be able to take it? You’re such a little thing.”

“Don’t… be a dick.” She pants out between kisses, looping his hair around her fingers and tugging slightly. “Please.”

Slowly, he sinks his cock into her. He tries to be gentle going in but her slick walls are sucking him in, making pitiful, wet, sounds that fill the air. She was so tight against him, despite him stretching her, and she mewls sweetly against his mouth. After waiting for her to adjust to his size he rolls his hips. Her legs tighten around his waist and her little fingers pull harder at his hair, craning his neck. “Good girl, look at you opening up for me.”

He snaps his hips against her, continuing a rhythm of thuds as his balls slap her bum. He’s watching her face for any signs of pain but her face is only one of pleasure. She looks so sweet with her mouth parted in an ‘o’ and her eyebrows wrinkled together. Every nudge against her g-spot has her moaning into his lips, vibrating down to the back of his throat. She can feel another orgasm building up hot inside her belly.

She pulls away from the kiss, barely opening her eyes. “I want you to bite... wan’ you to feed.”

God. She’s fucking perfect. He strokes the side of her face with his thumb, huffing as he feels her walls tightening. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, fuck, I need it.” It’s all the permission he needs because his mouth is finding the sweet spot over her collar bone where blood rushes once his fangs pierce her skin. She orgasms again, squeezing his cock so much that he comes inside of her. White, sticky, streams of cum paint her insides and Damon draws one last mouthful of blood from her before licking the leftover splatters.

He collapses on top of her glistening body, pressing his head against her boobs where he can hear her heartbeat. It’s hammering inside of her chest as she comes down from her second orgasm, wrapping her arms around Damon’s head and holding him close. She can feel his cock beginning to soften inside of her before he pulls out. Cum dribbles out of her pussy when she shifts into a more comfortable position, burrowing herself into Damon’s chest. He chuckles and pets her hair, holding onto her tighter. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

She nuzzles the soft hairs between his pecs, inhaling his scent. “Thank you. I was so nervous to kiss you even though I’ve wanted to for like… ever.”

Damon thumbs at her brows, brushing the small hairs back against her skin. He presses another kiss to her mouth, then another to her cheek “Well, now we can do it all the time. Whenever you want.”

Her eyes light up, sparkling in the dim light. “I’m going to kiss you until my lips turn blue.”

He smiles. “You better.”

~*~*~

The next day they're back on the road, headed for home. Windows down and music blaring. Y/N is wearing a pair of Damon’s sunglasses, nodding her head to Nirvana. She catches his eye during the song and leans across the console to press three kisses on his cheek. She feels so happy she could burst. The answer to her best friend's pain is in the glove compartment of the car and she’s dating her best friend. What more could she ask for?

Damon smiles, a dimple forming where her lips rest. “Just can’t get enough of me, can you? This was all just a ploy to make you obsessed with me.”

She nips at his cheekbones, giggling when he ducks his head away. The car swerves into the other lane, thankfully empty. “I was already obsessed with you.”

He grins and reaches an arm around her, patting at her bum. She moves her lips over his ear, the words barely registering. If he wasn’t a vampire he wouldn’t have been able to hear her say it.

“I love you.”

God, he loves her too.

#here you goooo #sorry it took a bit #damon salvatore #tvd damon #tvd #the vampire diaries #tvd fanfiction #damon salvatore smut #damon x reader #damon x y/n #requests open #bonnie bennett #deserves #more #fuck #julie plec #racist piece of shit

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yourwildsimp · 3 years

Text

sweet confessions

includes: aizawa, y/n

warnings: mentions of nightmares

length: 1,986 words

summary: with neither of you able to sleep, trapped words are finally allowed to slip like melted butter.

Four in the morning was not the time to be up, especially on a work night. Well, a workday at this point. You should be in bed, surrounded by the fluffiest, warmest blankets on the softest mattress you could afford.

And yet? Here you were in the bathroom, washing your face with warm water, for what was the third time in a row. It was as if you were trying to slowly drown yourself. A yawn left your lips, strong enough to rock your body with violent yet satisfying shudders. You cursed your insomnia. You knew you were tired, so why couldn’t you fall asleep?

Something clattered in the kitchen, a hushed swear which broke the stillness of the shared apartment soon followed.

Was he up, too?

Your face heated up at the thought of your roommate. There had always been a spark between the two of you, but both of you dodged any confrontation. It was like fate danced you both around each other, curious to see who would take charge. Who would finally end this little game of cat and mouse? You didn’t think you had enough confidence to be the one to put a stop to the games you were playing and admit how hard you’ve fallen for him.

However, as life tugs you both along, curious things unfold.

You cracked open the bathroom door to peep out, holding your breath in case he was just outside. This was new to you, as Aizawa was typically asleep for as long as he could be. His record is 19 hours straight after a hard mission. Your record was nine hours, and you were damn proud of yourself for it, too.

You carefully stepped out after turning off the light, trying to creep back to your bedroom without getting caught. It’s not like you wanted to avoid Aizawa, you just didn’t want him to catch you up this late again. Though as soon as you took your first step out into the hallway, he spoke, the words making you freeze like a deer in headlights.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?” You swallowed around the lump in your throat as you stood straight.

“I thought you didn’t know I was up,” you said with a grin, but Aizawa could see how tired you were.

“I’m a pro-hero,” he hummed, a coffee mug warming his hands. “It’s almost insulting that you thought I didn’t notice you. Now, why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Pro-hero,” you retorted, earning a worn chuckle. The distant look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know to understand why he was awake as well.

Nightmares.

You knew all too well that Aizawa’s night terrors were a force to be reckoned with. On some nights he even woke up screaming or falling out of bed. Aizawa’s dreams were the only thing that could get such a strong reaction from him.

“Drinking coffee this late can’t be good for you,” you said, changing the subject rather quickly while you headed into the kitchen with your roommate. “Doesn’t a hero with your status need to stay healthy?”

“It’ll keep me up,” he murmured with a strange sort of solemnness infecting his tone.

You couldn’t stop the empathetic look from tainting your face even if you wanted to. You hated nothing more than watching as the hero business ate away at your best friend.

“Hey.” His voice took you from your thoughts. “We’re already up this late, and I doubt either of us will sleep soon, so. . .” Aizawa trailed off as you looked up at him. “So, come sit on the roof with me. Only for a bit.”

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor before you caught yourself and nodded. You hoped that you didn’t look too head over heels for him, but little to your knowledge, Aizawa found your reaction cute.

“Sure, alright,” you said with a small smile, trying to sound nonchalant. You didn’t, but Aizawa didn’t comment on it, sparing your pride. “Ah, wait, let me grab a hoodie-”

“Don’t bother,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear him.

A smirk tainted your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest and accusingly leaned towards him.

“Oh, so you want me to freeze? That isn’t very heroic, mister.” The way you raised your eyebrows got him to spill a chuckle.

“I do not. You can just wear mine."

Leaving the conversation at that, he turned away before you ever saw the pink hue that dusted his face. It took you a second to let his words process before you were following after him like a lost puppy.

It's not a big deal. He's just being friendly and giving, as always. That's the lie you've always told yourself.

“How do we get up on the roof?" You asked as he led you on the small back porch.

Your small smile dropped entirely as he jumped and grabbed the edge of the roof, pulling himself up with practiced ease.

"All right, asshole, not everyone is a pro-hero, so-" You cut yourself off as soft cloth suddenly wrapped around you, acting as a safety harness.

He lifted you to the roof without breaking a sweat. And to be honest, that boosted your confidence by a few points.

"Such foul language doesn't belong in a pretty mouth like yours," Aizawa murmured, his calloused hands carefully pulling his scarf off of your shoulders. He left the cloth on your waist for you to take care of, as he didn't want to overstep any boundaries.

The scarf was the furthest thing from your mind as you hoped the dark sky hid your heavy blush.

He said I was… Pretty. Aizawa… called me pretty.

"You, um…" You tried to start a conversation to distract Aizawa from the fact you weren't removing his scarf. "You got up here stupidly fast. Do you do this often?"

He didn't comment on the matter of his scarf, silently using it to justify why he was sitting this close to you.

"I'm a stealth hero. I'm always jumping rooftop to rooftop," he reasoned, heavy eyes taking in the ever so familiar landscape.

"That's not what I asked," you prodded gently. "Do you come up here often, this late at night?"

You wanted him to trust you, to tell you what was obviously plaguing his thoughts or what had scared him sleepless this time. You were well aware trust wasn't given easily, especially for someone like him. Someone who's been hurt time and time again.

His jaw shifted, and you were too concerned about his mental health to think of how handsome he was with his sharp features.

"Sometimes. When the dreams aren't incredibly terrible," he muttered after a thick swallow.

You hummed to let him know that you understood, your body shifting a minuscule closer to his warmth. He noticed, and without a word pulled his hoodie over his head. You two were sitting so close that you needed to lean to the side to avoid getting elbowed.

"Hey, what are you-"

He smiled gently as he set the article in your lap, and the sight alone shut you up. He was gorgeous, basking in the never-sleeping city lights.

"Didn’t I tell you? You can wear my jacket if you're cold."

Be still your beating heart, because if it didn’t soon, you were sure he'd think someone was knocking at the door with how loud it was pounding against your ribs.

With a painfully flustered chuckle to fill the silence, you put it on. And, God, you'd be content dying surrounded by his scent of heavy rain and the forest. A small thank you filtered off your tongue. Using the visual excuse of adjusting how it pooled at your hips, you shifted ever closer.

"You know-"

"Sometimes-"

You had both gone to speak at the same time, earning a soft giggle from you and a deep chuckle from him.

"You go first," you offered with a gentle smile.

"Only if you go after, no matter what," he playfully demanded.

As you agreed, you watched his eyes lingered on you, something indescribable dancing behind the walls of charcoal. With a deep breath, he faced the horizon.

"Sometimes when I drive, I'll turn on the radio. Just to have some background noise. I don't pay attention to it, though, because most of the music is shit," Aizawa started, something in his chest swelling as you chuckled at him. "But then, when I was sitting in the UA teacher's parking lot, something hit me as I listened to a sappy song."

"What? That you're getting old?" You teased, trying to break some of the tension in his shoulders.

"I realized that all of a sudden, every love song was about you."

Your soft gasp sounded like a nuclear bomb to him and he screwed his eyes shut. He knew he should've stayed in bed.

"I..." Aizawa moved to stand. "I should go back to sleep," he finished rather quickly.

Your nibble fingers gripped his pants leg and he froze entirely, like a child who’d been caught eating candy past midnight.

"Hey… What happened to our little deal?" Your caring tone caused him to hesitate. "Please, Shouta, won't you hear what I have to say?"

Shouta. How pretty it sounded rolling off your tongue.

He swayed in the morning breeze, the very beginning of a sunrise highlighting his dark features. And then he sat, avoiding looking at you at all costs.

"As I was going to say before I was thankfully interrupted," you began, adjusting the sleeves of your (his) jacket. You took a deep breath, hyping yourself up to finally fess up as he did. "You know when you look at a kitten, you think of Shinsou? Or when you see candy apples, you think of Eri?" You asked, earning a stiff nod.

"Everything has started reminding me of you. From sleep bags to your favorite dark chocolates, and baggy clothes like the ones you rarely allow me to borrow, or a coffee mug you'd like. You're always running through my mind," you took a breath, needing to get some air after your fast-paced rant.

You both sat in heavy silence, the dew in the grass glinting from the rays of marigold that poured over the horizon.

"Can I do something stupid?" He asked quietly, shifting in his spot.

" 'Course. It's about time we swapped roles," you humored.

Smokey-colored eyes bored into yours as he faced you, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped. You'd never seen him so… beautifully revealing.

Suddenly you were surrounded by warmth, Aizawa no longer looking at you. He hugged you so desperately, it was as if he thought you'd leave him. He scruff tickled your neck as he nuzzled into you, but you couldn't care less.

The way you didn't need to think twice about returning the hug made him smile against your skin. You both sat there on the roof, basking in rays of fresh morning sunlight, never letting go of each other.

"It was about losing you," Aizawa breathed, breaking the blissful silence. "My nightmare… In it, I had lost you forever."

You closed your eyes, one hand tenderly massaging his scalp with the other held him closer to you. "I'm right here, Shouta. I'm not going anywhere," you reassured, feeling his breathing pattern calm. "You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah…" He whispered, voice heavy with sleep and concern.

"Let's get back to bed, okay?" You murmured, feeling the weight of your feelings change from suffocating to soaring.

"Not yet. Please… I just wanna stay with you." Aizawa pulled you impossibly closer and you smiled.

"Whatever you wish, but don't blame me when you're sore tomorrow." You felt him chuckle as his eyes drooped shut.

" 'm always sore anyways."

#comfort #aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #mha fluff #boku no hero fluff #poor baby really just needs a hug

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captain039 · 3 years

Text

Secrets of mutation PART 3

Logan(wolverine) x reader

Warnings: Age gap, student/teacher, AOB, trauma, swearing, sexual, intimate, a little forceful, heats, smut

Xmen X new mutants

AOB will be referred to second gender xD

Previous chapter

Living with memories seemed strange, knowing who you were, remembering your parents and their death. Your mutation to shape shift like Rahne only another species. You could half shift also, claws and fangs, just not as much body hair as Rahne. You could see in the dark too in human form, your nose was quite strong as was your hearing of you laid attention.

What you couldn’t get out your head though was your parents, those strange men in all black and the memory of someone saying they overdosed you. Dr Reyes knew all this, she had it all on file, never once told you or gave any hint into it. It made you angry, made you want to make her suffer but she was long gone now.

You hated training, hated physical training for that matter. You watched everybody get their ass kicked and kick ass while you hid in the corner.

“Hey” you jumped when Scott called you.

“Mat three now” he said and you sighed going over there.

You looked to the guy and sighed.

“Come on” he grinned.

“I’m- I’m not hitting you” you huffed.

“How are you gonna learn if your not gonna do it?” He asked stepping closer.

“I-“ you sighed.

“Fine” you threw a lazy punch to his arm and he raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” He questioned and you nodded.

“You we’re holding your fist wrong” he said and you sighed.

“I don’t fight” you said.

“You’re a cat” he said.

“A lazy cat” you corrected.

“I like sleep, food and warm beds with-“ you yelped when your feet were taken out from under you. You landed on your back with a groan even though the mat cushioned it.

“Fuck you” you grumbled staying on the ground.

“Come on where’s the feisty kitty cat” he taunted looking over you. You glared not even knowing who this guy was.

“New kid ain’t got balls” he chuckled as people began to look. You felt yourself wanting to shrink as he taunted and went cocky. You growled though claws and fangs out as you grabbed his legs and held you claws to his throat.

“Woah- hey!” You jumped when Logan came over. The boy under you was scared, you could smell his blood also and frowned when you saw scratches on his legs.

“No powers!” Scott scolded.

“Shut up” Logan said kneeling by you.

“I know you wanna claw his throat out but don’t” he said softly and you sighed getting off him. You walked out of the gym and huffed as Logan followed.

“What happened in there?” He asked and you turned to glare.

“Kid” he sighed as you waited for him to catch up.

“I don’t fight” you said.

“Seems like you do” he said.

“He was an asshole” you mumbled crossing your arms.

“I agree but, you did scratch both his legs” he reminded and you sighed.

“Well then maybe I’ll fight you and scratch you to death” you were annoyed, you didn’t want to fight.

“You won’t kill me” he said a slight smirk on his lips.

“You know what I mean” you sighed going to the elevator.

“No come on” he called you and you huffed again.

“You train with me, at least if you scratch I’ll heal” he called and you sighed trudging back to him.

Back in the room you sighed at the looks, the kid was already gone though his blood lingered.

“I don’t fight” you said once again as you stood on the match.

“Humour me” he said and you sighed holding your fists up.

“You’re gonna break your fist if you punch like that” he shook his head walking over to fix it. You stared at him while he did it, his touch less rough than you though and warm.

“Punch my hands” he said as he held them up and you sighed punching them lightly.

“You just took a man down and your punching like this?” He questioned and you sighed.

“I told you-“ he stopped you.

“You don’t like fighting” he finished. You sighed sitting on the ground with your legs crossed.

“I’m only dangerous when I’m a cat” you said as he sat in front of you.

“Even then I’m not, I’m just quick” you shrugged.

“Half shift” he said and you frowned.

“I’ll scratch you-“ you said huffing as he stood.

“I don’t care” you stood and sighed half shifting. The sounds around you became amplified and you twitched at any light noise, your knuckles cracked as you stared at Logan.

“Try and take me down” he said and you made a small hiss noise. Your mind was always half and half, sometimes the feline took control other times it laid dormant.

You tried fighting him, you ended up on your back with him pinning you down easily. You changed back sighing as you let your hands fall to the side.

“Did I scratch you?” you asked and he shook his head. You nodded when a cramp went through your stomach. You froze remembering what it meant. At the program you were always forced to drink some disgusting medicine that kept that nature at bay, but now you haven’t been weaned off it’ll probably hit harder.

“Get off me” you mumbled and he frowned looking to you. You were shaking under his hold and he let go of you, sitting back on his knees. You made a small noise and his nose flared slightly. Others were looking to catching your scent as you whined softly. You stood as quickly as you could stumbling in the process.

“Kid” Logan held you steady and you sighed leaning into him.

“Ah hell” he muttered.

“Come on” he said rather softly to you as he helped you outside the door.

“You should control yourself cat!” Someone called and Logan turned.

“You better control that tongue before you lose it” he snapped before urging you into the elevator.

“I’m sorry” you said in pain as you held your stomach.

“It’s fine kid” he said though it clearly wasn’t fine.

“I can’t go to my room I have a roommate!” You said panicked as the elevator dinged.

“Fuck!” He growled leading you down the opposite end and into a room. He closed the door and you sighed as you laid on the bed before it hit you. His scent hit you and you looked to him. He was scratching his head back turned to you as he sighed.

“Logan” you mumbled.

“Yeah, I know” he growled pacing as a knock came.

“Logan” the Professor called.

“What?!” Logan snapped opening the door.

“Sorry Charles” he muttered going to the other end of the room.

“I’m sorry” you said crying softly.

“It’s alright, you’ve been on some form of suppressant at the facility, we have some here for those who want it, we just needed your body to wear off the other ones I’m afraid” Charles explained and you nodded. Usually mixing two suppressants ended badly, usually in intense heat.

“I know you’ve got a roommate at the moment, I’ll organise a room for you ok?” He added and you nodded.

“Logan?” Charles called and the man practically snarled.

“Come with me and I’ll have Jean come help here” Logan followed Charles out with tense shoulders. The door closed and you sighed hugging his pillow.

Over the last couple of weeks you’ve been sceptical of the man, an attraction to him. He was handsome and an unmated alpha, but he’d probably been with many women, probably had one now, he flirted with Jean a lot though she was with Scott. You knew you two had a large age gap, probably double seeing as he didn’t age like normal. But when you did fight with him or he taught history you were focused on him, his scent. It was stronger thanks to your cat senses, you tried not too, he was just intriguing to you. He always snapped back at anyone that gave you crap too, stood up for you even if you didn’t need it. He was almost protective of you maybe. Now though as you laid there you wanted him back here, holding you, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much than. You pulled the covers over you and curled up in a ball as you inhaled his scent. It was strong on his bed thankfully, it took a little off the edge.

“Y/n” you grumbled when someone called you.

“We’ve got your room ready” it was Jean. You froze though gripping the pillow between your arms as you began to panic a little. She came over and you looked to her begging.

“I-“ she obviously could read your mind as she stuttered.

“Jean” another voice came and you looked to the door seeing Logan. She walked to him and they muttered by the door while you sighed.

“She’s a student” Jean said and Logan sighed.

“Logan” you mumbled and their talking stopped.

You heard footsteps and frowned before Logan knelt by the bed.

“Kid you gotta go into your own room” he said softly.

“I’m not a kid” you glared rolling over. You heard him sigh as he moved to the other side of the bed and knelt.

“I’m old enough to be your grandfather, you need someone your age ok?” You glared again and he pinched the top of his nose.

“Look you can take my pillow, just, we gotta get you into your own room” you still glared but sat up clutching his pillow. You followed him to the assigned room you got, further down the hall. You looked to the fresh bed and sighed lying on it, your back to Logan and the door. You were shaking slightly as you held onto his pillow. Tears were in your eyes, he was right but right now it just hurt. The door closed and you closed your eyes curling up on the cold bed.

Next chapter ->

#x reader #fanfic #aob #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #xmen #Logan #Logan x reader #marvel

99 notes · View notes

saturnsummer · 3 years

Note

Solhwi prompt:

Sol A tries to set up a date between sol B and joonhwi after his court 'confession' (even though she is lowkey jealous) assuming he was talking about her and confusion ensues... And if you can use the following dialogue-

"Sol, it's you. It has always been you."

love's complicated.

Sol A's not jealous. She really isn't.

But what was this twisting, nerve wracking feeling that she feels every time she sees Sol B?

notes: prompted by @confusedsoulsramblings ! i had so much fun writing this, i had to add a small bonus at the end. i had no intention on making this so long, but i guess it’s my trait to make long fics. spelling, grammar and incorrect information will be taken responsible by me. thank you all for support, once again! let me know of more prompts, questions or your reviews! feedback and criticism very much appreciated! thank you all, once again for the endless love!!

words: 3000 words.

ao3

Sol shouldn't be any less shocked during Yeseul's trial. When Prosecutor Jin cornered Joon Hwi with his question, she turned to look at her roomie at the same time she did. Then, she saw Joon Hwi’s eyes trail nervously, fluttering between them both. Sol knew his answer from the look on his face.

It was never her to begin with.

She wasn't angry. She wasn't upset. She expected it. Sol B was sophisticated, graceful and beautiful. She knew how all the freshmen would nickname her "Ice Princess.". Could anyone disagree? Furthermore, coming from a family of lawyers and prosecutors, who wouldn't love her? She was a dream child. She possessed both the brains and the beauty.

Joon Hwi was always open with his teasing and words. He loved teasing her over their first meeting at the bookstore. He loves visiting Byeol randomly, even when Sol isn't home. He often comments with sentences that could have secondary meanings, and was very much teased by Bokgi. Even though he infuriated her sometimes, she always smiled with him.

Sol felt special, if she was honest. She felt like the only girl that he had his eyes on. She couldn’t help but feel tingly inside and her heart blooming like flowers in spring. Yeseul spent hours convincing Sol that Joon Hwi likes her, and on some nights, she liked to fantasied to the thought of it.

Of course, it means nothing to her now.

Sol sits alone in the study room, huffing out a sigh. She ruffles her hair and buries her face into her sweater sleeves. She can't believe that she can't study due to Joon Hwi liking her roommate. She doesn't like the twisting feeling in her stomach, and she doesn't know what it's called, too.

Was she... jealous?

Sol shakes her head vigorously and slaps her face a couple of times. No, she thinks, and lets out a breathy laugh. She can’t be. As far as her feelings went, she never considered seeing Joon Hwi more than best friends. The chances of him liking her was held at a much higher percentage than her liking him, in Sol’s head.

But thinking back, she couldn’t deny her feelings anymore. She couldn’t bury her feelings any further, especially now that she has accidentally dug them up. Her snarky remarks, the way she acted with him, the burning feelings she felt whenever someone spoke bad of him, her smiles that she would sometimes save for him.

Maybe, she does had feelings for this second round judicial exam passer.

But at the same time, she felt wrong. Her roomie was oh, so obviously in love with Joon Hwi, harbouring such toxic feelings felt wrong. It felt backstabbing and so betraying. She couldn’t be jealous. She can’t be, anymore. She should be happy, for her best friend to fancy such a perfect partner like Sol B.

Even if it meant that her feelings were not returned, she didn't mind.

Because his happiness and smile was enough for her.

-----

Sol did her best to squash those toxic feelings. She reminded herself that her roomie was in love with her best friend, and her best friend felt the same. She avoided every moment she was caught between them and always scooted away when Joon Hwi wanted to sit with her. She gave lame excuses (”I want to sit with Yeseul”, “Yebeom needs to help me with a case”), but her feelings only bubbled up stronger inside.

She witnessed as her cold faced roomie soften in her speech when talking to Joon Hwi, the way her eyes softened when he would explain something to her, the way he gave the exact same smile to her when he witnesses her finally figuring things on her own. Or the eyes that he gives when he devours his ramyeon while Sol eats her extra pickles with equal fervour.

If Sol was being honest and straightforward, she wanted to take out her anger on Joon Hwi. For leading her on to believing that he liked her. For being so flirty with her that even BokGi wanted to join in on the teasing. For playing her into this game, only to leave her hanging and lost and completely blindsided by his feelings.

But no, she couldn’t. She knew it wasn’t his fault. She blamed herself, for letting herself be lead by him. She blamed herself for falling for him, instead of focussing on her studies. She was always more rash and emotional.

It was her decision to fall for his charms, not his.

She can’t bring herself to blame him, knowing that Joon Hwi was always like this. Mumbling with low spirits, she sunk lower into her chair in the empty study room. She purposely didn’t want to tell anyone that she would be studying in the study room, in hopes that she could be alone. Heading back to her dorm was not an option, since her roomie’s presence would made her so guilty.

“Why the long sigh, sunbae?” She freezes at the nickname. Internally, a part of her lights up, recognising the voice, but even more the nickname that was said. As quickly as it came, it dissipated as she finally registered who it was, and her guilt ridden feelings came right back up.

Joon Hwi walked in, with his bag slung over, his signature smirk on his face. Pulling a chair, he scooted it over nearer to Sol. Peering over her book, he leaned closer and grabbed the pen she was holding.

“Ooh, criminal codes. Are you having trouble?” He asks, leaning closer to her.

Sol was so glad he was not looking at her. His body was so near hers, that she could smell the fresh cologne he wore, and the slight musk of sweat from a whole day of work. She couldn’t stay here any longer, while having a knot in her stomach. Leaping from her chair, she gathered her books, nearly scaring Joon Hwi and she quickly packed her things.

“I... I just remembered that I needed to meet Yeseul for something!” She blurts out, before running out the room.

She ran up to where the lecture halls were at, before going back down and escape to a part of their campus garden. She always took the same spot, a hidden corner hidden away by a tree that even Joon Hwi isn’t aware of. She frequented that area many times, when she was still insecure about making friends and found it particularly comforting.

“This is no good, I can’t run off every time I see him.” She mumbles to herself. She knew she was right. She knew Joon Hwi was smart to catch on about her not attending classes as usual with her seat next to him. Even though she still showed up for study group, she knew that he could sense the change in her mood.

She needed a plan, and she needed it ASAP.

-----

A week passed after her awkward encounter. Sol had gotten used to the twisted feeling in her stomach. After a week of debating in her head, she formulated her plan to get her feelings over and done with.

She was going to have her roommate and Joon Hwi date.

Sol had figured that if there’s anything she does best, it’s to disappoint herself. Instead of losing face to her best friend and confessing to him about how she felt, she much rather have her feelings crushed instead. Because she knows that he will probably debate on who to choose and she couldn’t let him be the decision maker. He doesn't need to make such a difficult decision.

Besides, Sol knew her roomie’s situation. With an overbearing and controlling mother, the least she could do to make her happy was to have the man she crushed on. He could at least help her in her studies, benefitting her mother’s dreams of being a judge one day and have him by her side forever.

Sol knew the date was going to go well. Sol B had the hugest crush, Joon Hwi would have might as well admitted to her that he had feelings for her in front of the whole court room. All they were missing were private moments alone, without their textbooks and no mentions of school. Oh, and maybe a few glasses of wine and a fancy restaurant in town.

And so Sol found herself in the study room alone again, thinking about how to tell Joon Hwi about setting up a date between Sol B.

Apparently, fate meant for it to happen now.

Because Joon Hwi strode in, a familiar smile on his face, in his hoodie.

“Stuck again?” Joon Hwi says, nodding to her books on the table. She contemplates going into small talk and saying yes, but pushes her thoughts aside. No, she needed this out of her system.

“Joon Hwi, how would you like to go on a date with Sol B?” She blurts out, literally making her point across. Joon Hwi is stunned for a moment, as he sets his bag on the table, leaning on a chair.

“Well...what makes you think I would enjoy it?” Joon Hwi stutters back, clearly stunned.

“Oh, I mean, well, you know how Sol B likes you, don’t you? And I think it’ll be nice for you to go on a date with her. You know get to know my roomie more.” Sol replies as casually as she can. A part of her hopes he says no, that he rather spends his time doing anything else.

But instead, he just shrugs and nods.

And her heart drops, shattering like glass into a thousand pieces. She maintains her bright smile on her face, and even gives a convincing laugh. Sol sits through the next ten minutes of her telling Joon Hwi when she’s free tomorrow and promising she won’t tell anyone, not even Yeseul.

As best as she can, she excuses herself from him, hoping her voice isn’t shaky when she says “I hope you enjoy your date!” as she walks away. Her steps are shaky and she feels lightheaded. She doesn't notice how her eyes are teary, the same way they get when she cuts onions.

Rushing to the washroom nearest to the garden, she locks herself in a cubicle and takes deep silent breaths. She concentrates on breathing and tries brainwashing herself. Come on, Sol, you can’t be upset for him. You should be happy! Joon Hwi is going on a date! And he’s going with the best girl you know! Why are you upset? She repeatedly chants this in her head, holding in her tears as best she can.

But it unfortunately isn’t enough when she finally cracks, letting the pent up sadness explode from it’s cage, her tears streaming down. She prays the bathroom is empty when she wails and sobs, crumbling to the floor in a heap of tears as she can’t help but get the image of her crush and roommate holding hands and kissing.

For once in her life, she has never felt so hurt, but she couldn’t blame anyone but herself for putting herself in this situation. She landed herself in this ditch, and now she has to deal with the fact that her crush, her best friend, will be dating her roommate.

Composing herself, she wipes her tears dry and washes her splotchy face. She rejects Yeseul’s offer for dinner, resorting to spending her night at the campus garden away in her hiding spot. She’s cold, but it’s nowhere near the numbness she feels in her heart deep down. When it gets too cold at 2am, she sneaks back into campus and goes to the long sofas in front of the Lady of Justice statue.

She sits there staring into space for a long while, before carrying her bag to the, now empty and deserted, study room, where she crouches to the corner of the room. She’s reminded of the moments where he would sit with her so close, their shoulders brushed each other and their fingers always fumbled around for stationary. Everything reminds her of him, and she falls asleep, huddled in a corner, just as the rare rays of sun start to emerge.

She wanted him, but he wasn't hers anymore.

-----

“Sol. Sol, get up.” She hears a familiar voice say. Having slept for less than six hours, she’s groggy and rubs her eyes. Her back hurts from being hunched over, and her joints are sore and stiff. Her vision comes to focus as she comes face to face with Joon Hwi.

“Ah!” She yelps out, startled by his presence and retreats back, only banging her head against the metal cabinets instead. She winces and rubs her head, soothing her pain. Joon Hwi sighs and holds out his hand. She swats his hand away.

“Why are you here?” Sol asks Joon Hwi. Joon Hwi holds a serious expression as he steps back to let Sol stand on her own.

“I take back what I said yesterday.” He says suddenly.

“Huh?”

“I’m not going on a date with Sol B anymore. I don’t want to.” He blurts out. Sol takes a moment to register his words. Immediately, anger floods in. She can’t tell if it’s residual anger from being mad at him for playing her, or anger on behalf of her roommate.

“What? What do you mean? But Sol B likes you so much! You should at least give her a chance!” Sol argues back, making her way to the other side of the table at the same time, dumping her bag there. She’s proper angry now, letting her emotions take charge of her actions. Her eyes are frustrated and her face frowns. Joon Hwi stops her and grabs her wrist, stopping her from moving away from him and pulls her back to the same side of the table that he is.

“I don’t like her. And I don’t think I ever will.” He admits. Sol is breathless, taking in all this new information. But during the court, it was so clear that it was her roommate. She can’t do it, having Joon Hwi so close to her, wanting to be with him, yet getting told that he harbours no feelings for Sol B. The tension she felt was driving her crazy.

“But...” Her speech comes out breathless, almost suffocated out of anger and frustration.

“Sol.” His voice is an octave lower, as he leans towards her, his face closing the distance. “Listen to me.”

“It’s you. It has always been you. From the beginning, it was always you.”

Sol lets out a breath, almost suffocating from the tension.

It...it was her?

All this while...?

“I thought... I thought...” She hates how her voice is so full of breath. She’s leaning against the table, and his hands have shifted from her wrist to the side of the table, trapping her.“I thought you liked her. I thought this entire while, she was the one you liked.”

“Maybe this will make you trust me.”

And he presses his mouth against hers.

Sol’s startled, not used to Joon Hwi being so dominating. But his soft lips against hers distract her. She removes her hands from the table, bringing them up to his hang around his neck. His hands slowly make their way to her waist as they move in sync. When they finally part, Sol’s face is blushed bright red. She feels his hot breath against her face.

“Believe me now, sunbae?”

-----

bonus:

Sol B tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ears when she stops in her tracks to meet Joon Hwi.

“Hey, um, can we talk?” He asks awkwardly. She doesn’t know why she feels so calm, knowing that she should be feeling butterflies for having her crush talk to her. Nodding, they head to a spot until the staircases.

“I don’t know how to put it...” Sol B realises where this conversation is going. In fact, she has been waiting for this day, ever since Yeseul’s court hearing. She knows what he’s going to say before he even says it.

“You don’t like me, you like Sol A, right?” She completes his sentence. Joon Hwi fumbles in his speech and finds ways to defend himself quickly. But Sol B is quick to cut him off.

“It’s okay.” She says, the closest thing to a satisfied face she can make on her face. “I fully support you.”

“You’re... you’re not sad? Or angry?” Joon Hwi is cautious with his questions. Sol gives a slight scoff. If she’s honest, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what begin her crush for him, to begin with. She can’t remember if it was the way he answered questions, or the time he helped her put on her glasses. All she knows is that he didn’t like her, and she felt peace with that.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her. Your smile and your eyes are enough to prove it. Besides, that's who you were talking about in court, wasn’t it? You wanted to protect her.” She asks. He nods, eyes unable to meet hers.

When Sol B went to bed the night before, she noticed that her roomie was nowhere. Assuming that she was out studying, she went to bed. But when she woke up the next morning, Sol B found her bed still the same state as last night. It was obvious she didn’t return to the dorm.

“She didn't come back last night.” Sol B says and Joon Hwi’s eyes widen in panic.

“What?”

“Check the study room. She might just be studying there.”

“Okay.” He says and turns around. But he turns around once more before jogging away.

“Thank you, for everything.”

Sol B gives a suppressed smile as she watches Joon Hwi get further and further from him. She tries all she can to find anger, jealousy, sadness, brokenness, denial.

But yet, all she feels is calming peace.

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semischarmed · 3 years

Text

Chrysalis, Part 3

This was the day. The tremors have only intensified. I feel myself tearing at the arm that I had fully bonded with Kyle. If I don’t act soon that’s all that’s gonna be left of me in him. So I decided it had to be today. I’ve been shivering all over too, probably in fear or anticipation? Probably both.

By no means was Red ready. He had a natural fighting streak so it wasn’t gonna be a smooth process. As prepared as I was, the odds were stacked against me. This body’s connection with me has degraded significantly faster than I had anticipated. Had I gone with anyone else, I’d be permanently one with Kyle by now, but of course it had to start with Red. No use crying over spilled milk. Taking Red would be the struggle of a lifetime. Had it just been me in my old body, I would have given up outright. But I was Kyle now, and Kyle does Not. Give. Up.

———

I fight a long, close game in the early afternoon and we barely eke out a win- mostly thanks to me, despite my current condition. I hug my teammates as our sweat and smells coalesce in the blazing sun. We bake uncomfortably long in the heat. They really were great teammates. Kyle basically did a 180 in their eyes, being far more comfortable, far more sociable, far more filthy- yet they accept me regardless. I breath them in, remarking on them and myself for possibly the last time, before making my way back to my dorm.

I stop halfway as I am instantly crippled in a massive tremor that forces me to the ground. I retch. This was too tenuous, too delicate. There would be no time for any detours. I immediately run for Sig Chi.

———

Red wakes in a cold sweat in his bed, in the filtered light of the moon, to the image of his naked little bro- to the image of me jacking off to him. Of course he had to also be a light sleeper.

“Heyyy Big Bro” I whisper menacingly, licking my lips. Fuck. Ok, ok, gotta improvise.

“Kyle? Kyle! What the fuck?! How did you get here? And, oh fuck... Jeeezus, is that you? Dude you fucking reek” I could tell he was trying to categorize the smell, but I quickly correct him.

“That’s right I fucking reek, this cute little meat-suit had a game today. This is what my team smells like, this is what a man smells like,” I rush up to the naked Red, who instinctively recoils and pulls his sheets up. I lean in to my speechless big bro, sticking my face close to his, bringing our foreheads together. Despite his overall friendliness, he was a dangerous one. I’ve never met so much resistance in a person. I could show him no weakness.

I grab his head with my hands, pointing it downward to our bare chests, so we can both smell our combined odor. “This is what we’ll smell like”.

Red attempts to defuse the situation. “Ok, ok dude, great prank” he laughs, obviously disturbed. “But I- “ Before he can continue, I smear a bit of precum over his lips. ”I can’t wait to make you mine... big bro” I moan. I cup his sweaty left pec with my hand, giving a slight squeeze. His nipples, rock hard. “Kyle, get the fuck off me! The fuck is this?!” He pushes me off his bed with a force I did not expect. Still, my Big Bro Red- being the nice guy he was- made sure to only push me safely into a pile of old clothes. With the parts of me that were already inside him, I restrict any further movement. He breaks free from my grasp in small blips of resistance.

Red struggles in vain to leave his bed and I focus my hold on his body further. “You know, I was wondering how much cum it would take for your body to start accepting mine...” I trail. “Kyle, what the fuck are you talking about... what is this?!” He again struggles to move against his invisible restraints. I grab his water bottle and lift it up near him, giving it a little shake, motioning to it with my head. “Cmon, there’s no way you haven’t noticed... How’d you like the exclusive taste of me?” He shakes his head, utterly revolted, horrified, while a tent begins to form in his bedsheets. He looks down stating “no, no, that.... that’s not me... Kyle, this is...” I smile, amused, at the situation. Half-truth. For one he was wrong, that body of his was most definitely turned on. But I concede, if anything, that it was probably the result of his constant exposure to my seed moreso than his actual feelings for his little bro in the frat. Though his body had not been fully primed to accept me, I decide to continue layering on the mental damage, to better ease me in for the upcoming fight.

Since Red had so rudely interrupted my little session, I decide to continue where I left off, pumping my meat in front of him as I tear off his bedsheets.

“Oh Red, oh god Red! My roommate... he-he snuck inside me and ah fuck he took me... he stole me... poisoned my insides with himself... twisted me- look at me when I’m fucking talking Red- Look at how I wear his cute smile. Look how his body, his muscles, his feelings bend to my will. I make a great Kyle don’t I? Look how good I am at playing with my dick. Well I am Kyle, so of course I’m a great fucking Kyle.” Before I finish, I slip just my hand inside his- its veins flare up at my intrusion but I maintain the control of our now-shared appendage, bringing it up so we can examine it together. I wink at him before I seductively suck each of our fingers while I push my arm into his further. He watches in shock as he feels every motion. “But, you know Red, you know my roommate? That asshole is pretty greedy, asked me who else he’d look great in... and I told him I thought he’d make a great Red. I told him we’d be great at wearing your skin.” With our joint hand, I continue to pump my hard on, reveling in Red’s confusion and disgust in the process. I grab his dick, bringing it next to mine and letting him pleasure us both at the same time with his rough hand. He sweats as he continues to control his emotion, attempting to remain stoic. On the other hand, I am reduced to moans and whimpers- a sight that probably looks incredibly off coming from Kyle. His lip trembles and he lets out a soft grunt and a massive wave of pleasure hits us both. We begin to feel the sensations from each other’s dick in the process. Our breaths are shallow, and I look into my future eyes.

“I-I’m a special case though. This?” I gesture to my own body with my free hand, as I explode, splashing a little on Red’s lips and lot on myself. Red explodes soon after and he stifles a moan. I now drag our shared hand all over my body, smearing and mixing our cum together over my stolen abs and his. “Kyle is fully mine. Forever. And you’re gonna make sure we stay that way.”

I raise Red’s now-slick, now-possessed hand again for him to examine. Veins rise as it struggles to resist my control, but I double down, giving a mean smirk and balling our shared hand into a fist. “If was just possessing him, we wouldn’t be able to then possess your hand. This? This is proof that he and I are one.” I follow by using that hand to squeeze my dick and Red’s together, until they coalesce into just his. Red is in shock at the events that have just unfolded, and I intend to use that situation to my full advantage. “No hard feelings big bro, you’re cute and all but I’m his forever home”. I lace my knees beneath his and smash my lower half into him. I feel his body clench and cringe until it is forced to accept mine. “Still, thank you for being there for me. When I realized we needed a new chrysalis to complete me... I knew it could only be through my Big Bro Red. I knew I could depend on your hot bod.” Our legs are one.

In one swift motion, I also slam my sticky wet chest into his, causing him to yelp in disgust and horror. I take the dribbling of my cum on his chin and, using our combined hand, I shove my seed into his mouth. I keep our fingers jammed into his mouth, making sure he gets a good taste of some fresh Kyle cum and his own beefy fingers. “Eat that shit up. I want that taste still in my mouth when I’m inside you” I moan. I snake my free arm into his other bicep. It shivers, glistening in the moonlight, covered in perspiration. Vibrating, his arm yields control to its new master- to me. These arms belong to Kyle now. “God we’re so close babe,” I moan. By now, only the upper edge of my chest and head are sticking out of his. I test out the new arms I have in my possession. They’re far larger than Kyle’s so I decide to stop here for a bit and revel in maneuvering my new sweaty biceps. I make Red flex for them me, and in straining movements, he is forced to show me what they can do. I moan, as my free head falls on his shoulder, drained from the process.

“Honestly, I only settled on your ass cause you’re the next Pledgemaster. I knew you’d be perfect for slipping on some of next year’s pledges, perfect for making great fucking puppets out of this frat.” I mumble to his shoulder before looking back up at him. “But now? After getting to know you a little more? I think want something a little more. I want a taste of that ginger dick. I want a taste of that best friend of yours. Jeremy- he’s fucking hot- I bet he’s delicious, but I bet he’d be even fucking hotter and taste even fucking better from his best friend’s mouth. And when I’m inside him, wearing him as my new puppet, I want it to be because you stuffed me in there.” Emotionally, I think I have him defeated. His body more freely yields to me and my becoming Kyle is almost finally complete.

I intend to continue spouting weird shit to spook him but the part of me still outside of Red slips in a wave of cosmic shock, partially removed from Kyle. I shake violently in pain. Shit. Before I can recover, Red picks up on it and begins to fight me with his body all over. He flares to life and I feel his all out attack on me. “Kyle, Kyle, you gotta fight this. Cmon man, fight your roommate!” I feel my grasp over him slipping.

“Fuck off” I growl, losing my composure. “He likes us this way. Wants us as one permanently-forever-together because I am Kyle. You wouldn’t understand. Here, have a taste of your little’s hot mouth.” I lean up and kiss him unexpectedly, digging my tongue into his mouth, merging my lips with his.

He tries to scream, only to be stifled to a “mmphhph”. I glide my tongue over his, wrestling it into submission before jamming it inside of his. I stifle a moan as our tongues become one. I slam my face ever closer to him, until we both breath and speak from the same mouth, until at last we can only see each other’s eyes. I give him a quick wink before finishing my possession and locking myself inside my human chrysalis.

Red’s body continues to light with tremors as the fight inside drags on. I make sure to cum a little more inside him, to layer more of myself and cement him forever mine. His eyes roll to the back of his head and his mouth opens unwarranted as he settles the last of his hold over his body to fight me. Goddamn he is tenacious. After what feels like hours, his body finally yields to me. He shakes viciously as the universe begins its correction. Red collapses onto the ground. In Red’s core I feel the last of Kyle’s essence integrate into my own. I feel the permanence of our connection. Nothing would ever take me out of Kyle again. I was Kyle- past, present and future. Natural order had been restored. Inside Red I felt safe, secure, complete.

I feel Red’s sweet release. He’s at peace, at bliss, since I can finally connect to his deepest parts, rearranging him into my perfect vessel. He would be mine forever. Then, I feel the fight from his mind. He grasps his body again, reiterating, begging for “Kyle” to break free from my control.

“I am here” I stated as Red, but only Kyle’s voice comes out. I break out of my shell. My naked form expels itself from Red, covered our juices, covered in my aura of forever. I close my eyes, breathing in the dank night air in Red’s room. He’s right, I fucking reek, but it felt good to smell it as a permanent Kyle. It felt good to stand with my permanently athletic legs. It felt good to use that word. Permanent.

Of course, I also left a lot of my seed in Red. Rearranged his insides so they’d better fit me. I watch expectantly at the soon-to-be reborn Red. Control over his body lights up in my mind. Red was mine.

I examine him as Kyle, playfully humming in his voice softly while I circle -around him, lightly tracing the outlines of his muscles- of my new acquisition. I will him to give me another gun-show. His body complies. Fuck. Yes. My Big Bro’s hot ginger ass was truly mine to control. “Cmon babe, you have to admit...” I trail as Kyle. “I wear you well”. As Red, my faces dances in ecstatic joy before giving myself a wink.

Red’s body giggles as I assert more control of his frame and do some small seductive dances in front of my main body. “Yeah... all me” I moan as Red- though only Kyle’s voice comes out of him. Something else was still missing. “But I think this needs a little more.” I say out loud. I worship my new self with the two new bodies I control. In the midst of my little play session, I feel Red’s mind stir within me. There it was.

I feel him inside me, digging through my mind to look for his friend, to pull Kyle out of my grasp. I feel him desperately claw his way around and decide to humor him, giving him full access to me. In increasing anguish, he pulls to my corners, digs through the depths of my mind trying to find a separate Kyle to rescue him from his roommate’s clutches. Instead, he finds no separation, no distinction between my old self and Kyle’s. When he digs, looking for Kyles memories, he instead finds them interlaced with my own. In the physical world, Red’s face paints itself with a deranged smile. I surround Red’s Psyche “Told you he was special... he’s mine forever... don’t worry though, big bro. You didn’t lose Kyle. I’m right here. You won’t be alone. I’ll be right here, inside you too”. I briefly lose control of Red’s body as I continue with my all out assault on his mind. Red’s face cringes in pain as I bombard his sense of self, embedding me inside his psyche, corrupting my Big Bro with my perversions. He briefly laughs sadistically, yielding to his newfound gifts, yielding to the pieces of me I put inside him. He moans, wrapping more of my psyche into himself “fuck yeah, babe. Keep going, I’m a good Big Bro... I can take it” before shaking his head in anger “fuck you Kyle!” The switch inside Red flips back and he resumes into moans and filthy whispers about me wearing his skin. He again snaps back and punches the nearby wall. “FUCK!” he shouts. God he was strong. I already had his body, I already had his mind, I already had Red by all accounts, yet through pure resolve alone he resists me. God I couldn’t wait to have that will of steel as my own. In any case, It looks like his body’s inclinations just needs a final little push.

I assert my new dominance over Red’s body, slapping my Kyle-self in the face, before finally speaking with Red’s voice, using it for the first time. Just controlling his voice was invigorating. “You sick fuck, Kyle. Look what you did to me, what you did in me. Toppled your Big Bro Red, conquered me, just like that. Wore my ass like suit and then left your squirmy little pieces inside” I lace his words with sex. Coming out of Red, out of my Big Bro, it feels almost blasphemous. Fuck yeah, Red feels great to be in. This body is amazing. I received the slap in Kyle with a moan. “Fuck yeah, big bro, it feels good doesn’t it? You like being my little puppet, don’t you? You want me in there, wearing you like a glove...” As Red I twirl my new fiery locks with my new, thicker fingers, “Yeah little bro... but I think we need an extra little punishment for you, for being such a fucking creep.” I make Red pout, sucking on his index finger while he continues “ How about your weird roommate jumps inside you and sews himself into your insides. How about he go even further and actually become your insides. How about he actually becomes you... How about your hot Big Bro make it permanent” I cackle maniacally as Red while Kyle’s face shifts into the dirty sneer I make us wear.

I parse Red’s mind for his reaction. It was from this point that he realizes just how far I went with Kyle. How much I became him. He relents at the matter, equally angry and aroused, finally understanding that Kyle was the one that took possession of him. Kyle created the plans to corrupt the frat. Kyle was the one did these heinous deeds because there was no difference between Kyle and his creepy roommate. Because I was Kyle.

Red wrestles back control of his body. “Fuck you Kyle, I’ll make you fucking pay for this. When I break free I’m gonna-” I cut him off as I sneer with Kyle’s face, making Red’s do the same as I continue his sentence in moans “-come crawling back because I’m your bitch forever.” I laugh heartily in his voice. Time for that little push.

In the heat of moment, I let him feel the sheer thrill of having both bodies under control, the sheer thrill of being me, before granting him control over his own body while I resonate within his psyche over the sheer ecstasy. He moans loudly “Fuck yeah... good boy... be a good Little, while dear Red here shows you how it’s done...” He rushes behind my main body, dragging his muscular arms in front of my chest feeling me up. We feel both sensations. Indescribable bliss. He leans in to my ear “we have unfinished business, bitch. It’s all your fault I’m like this... these-these... feelings...” he moans. “This is unnatural... and your punishment... your puppet wants a more” he licks my ear, probing his thick slimy tongue all over while his vascular hands tousle my sweaty hair. “C’mon Kyle. You know this body was built for fucking. Let me teach you how to use it right. Put on my skin- put this brain on. Wear me. Wear your big bro’s stud bod. Put your dick inside of mine. Haven’t-“ he trails off, grabbing his head in anguish “damn it... Kyle, why... why I am I like this...I’m a monster... What did you do to me?!” Tears well in Red’s eyes, before he catches a whiff of my scent. He goes into a toothy grin as anguish flips to a lustful frenzy. He grabs my rod in his vascular hands, and begins pumping it. He moans as we are both hit with the feeling. “Actually, no... this is good. This feels right. This is correct. I’m not a monster, I’m a fucking god. Kyle you have a decent dick... but haven’t you wondered what bigger was like? I’m bigger. Look at this thick cock. Your big bro’s got you. Come back inside, where it’s safe...” Red slams his sweaty body onto my back, dragging me inside, encasing me in his muscular flesh. He locks his arms under my own, preventing my escape, and I play along, writhing in his grasp as he draws me back, deeper and deeper into him. “I want you squirming inside me when we fuck Jeremy. When we fuck the rest of the frat... I want-I need you to do it with this dick... contaminate them. Inject them with it. Give em a little taste of Red and Kyle.” Inside Red, I sheath his dick over my own, but continue letting him take the lead. “Fuck yeah.. that’s the stuff..” He moans. “FUCK YEAH” he roars, “trying” to push me out of him. I resist, as much as I can anyway, until I can no longer maintain it and am suddenly pushed out of him. ”Not yet, bitch” he murmurs, before his flesh greedily devours mine again, moaning all the while. We repeat this a few times, edging him closer and closer.

I am paralyzed in bliss at the sensations, but Red maintains a better grasp of his emotions. He walks his inflamed, Kyle-filled self over to the pile of dirty, soccer-drenched clothes on the floor that I had I worn prior to getting into his room. He brings them up to his nose, inhaling deeply. “More...” he whispers... “I need more of you”. He puts them on, huffing in short, frenzied breaths, starting with the dirty compression shorts I had worn for my game. They are stretched impossibly tight on his ass, and he moans when the waistband snaps back at our shared dick. We proceed with the soccer shirt, thick biceps ripping the sleeves and turning it into a tank. The remains of my dirty shirt cling onto Red’s torso like a second skin, imprinting the delicate curve of each ab, each bicep, and each nipple on to its straining fabric.“Thank you... for the Kyle Sandwich” he whimpers in a trance as his eyes roll to the back of his head and we collapse onto the floor. We smell like my team after a long game. We smell like the forest. Equal parts putrid and petrichor. We smell like ecstasy. His eyelids flutter. “Good little bro”.

Then, tranquility is broken when he pushes me out. “grrrAHHH FUCk YOU KYLE” he half-shouts, half -moans. I am speechless. My form is again forcibly removed from his- I feel my visage imprint over his own, stretching his taught skin as it wraps over mine. I can see the light of day with my own eyes, and feel my cheeks stretched and melded to his freckled skin. Just a bit more. From behind me, where the back of my head should be, I feel Red’s smile and moan, as he feels my weight above him. He takes his thick arms rubbing them all over me, making sure I was stimulated the entire time I was being pushed out of him. “You got the right idea Kyle- no more deodorant for your big bro Red... we smell fucking better like this” I feel him stir, getting ready to pounce-no doubt to drag me back in. Before I can even say anything, I quickly realize the limits of my depossession. The process of pushing me out of him has slowed to a crawl. As my body continues to be expelled, to be raised out of Red, I am met with my own impossibly tight shirt and underwear, drenched in our sweat and restricting my freedom. The further my body leaves, the tighter we are pulled together by the fabric. We both moan this time. “Fuck Kyle! Get out! Get the fuck out of me!” he play-screams half convincingly, as he does a crunch with me above him. I feel the crunch from behind and he forcibly worms my own form back inside him. I pass out at the sensory overload.

When I awake, I awake in Red. I walk to the mirror and see his face as my own. In split second intervals, my Kyle-self stretches out his skin and attempts to leave before it is pulled back. We are tight. Nauseatingly full-impossibly so. By all accounts, Kyle’s body should have been expelled from Red after being inside this long-possession doesn’t usually last this long, but my little fighter, my Big Bro Red will not let me go. We are held together by my own clothing and his sheer will. Partners. Amalgamate. Corrupt. I quickly take control and feel his voice in the back of my mind, screaming at me to get out- again, only half-convincingly. For all his perfection, Red really needed some acting lessons. I begin to feel the effects of being stuck in his body for so long, as a lightness and a numbness washes over me. Yet in that same vein I feel indescribably close to him, with a hyper-awareness of Red’s body. This can’t last too long, I assume, as both of us have long since hit our limit. I throw up involuntarily on the floor- it’s all just cum.

Instead of stopping, the previous process repeats again. Our little possession dance happens again and again and again after that until we are utterly drained. We live as one Red, constantly in turmoil in the inside and perpetually in heat. Finally, a full three days later, we are both satisfied. I finally truly break from him as a lone Kyle. For one, I fucking smell, but also I am still a student. This whole experience had been immensely tiring. Still, I felt a sense of peace, in knowledge that new-Red would never leave me.

———

Though I initially wanted to fully take and possess Red, to use his body as a mindless puppet for my own, I kind of like our current setup. I moved into his room the very next day after our little break, much to the annoyance to the rest of Sig Chi. Red moans all the time when I possess him- he’s not particularly quiet about it either, and he begs for it every other day, before berating me when I actually follow through. Our “incestuous” nature is pretty clear to the rest of my frat brothers but they awkwardly avoid the subject. Jeremy is the only one that’s visibly pissed- guess we’re breaking every law in frat code or something. Whatever. If anything, they’ll all be seeing the light someday soon- and we have something extra special planned for Jeremy anyway.

I like to keep Big Bro Red in a pendulum state, between full autonomy and full possession. Even now, he constantly ‘fights’, attempting to push me out of him in vain and then dragging my ass back inside. To be honest, I find this whole setup kind of hot. I sure he does too. We’re always wrestling for control inside him, even though we both knew he was mine forever. I’ve extended the offer a few times to just jump into someone else in the frat or even leave forever but he always throws a big fit about it. Maybe he liked by puppetted by his little bro. Maybe he liked the fight. Maybe one day, I’ll actually fully take him. Of course, for now his red hot body runs a little warmer these days from our constant little dance. For now, I’ve been just been having fun, jumping in and out of him, swimming through his insides. We’ve been meaning to share too, naturally. There are some others on my mind- Red’s best friend, the Sig Chi president Jeremy- who we both agree that hot, dominant ass would make a for lovely little body to wear. Before Red, I was fine as just one person. I am forever grateful that he was my chrysalis, that he first full possession as Kyle. Because he helped me realize a king needs subjects. One day, I’ll take them all- every last hot piece of ass in this school. But for now, I’m content with occasionally just controlling and wearing Red, just wearing my proof of authenticity as Kyle.

—End Part 3—

Phew. Next story’s probably gonna be a bit lighter.

#male possession #male puppet #male body control

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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Title: A Hoarding Problem.

Pairing: Pro-Hero!Yandere!Touya/Reader (Boku No Hero Academia).

Word Count: 2.5k

Synopsis: Todoroki Touya has a problem, and he’s not sure he wants to fix it.

TW: Hero AU, Minor Spoilers, Kidnapping, Mutual Extortion, Emotional Manipulation, Slight Gaslighting, Bondage, Implied Infantilization, Mention of Sedatives (No Actual Use), and Themes of Poverty.

Todoroki Touya had a problem.

He had a lot of problems, technically. His secretary always managed to schedule the most important meetings at the least convenient times, his coffee never seemed hot enough but always burnt his tongue, and despite his fame and wealth and strange, cult-like popularity, the only thing journalists ever seemed to want to talk about was his father, why Touya didn’t inherit the ‘Endeavour’ title, how long it’d take him to live up to all those stacking, swelling expectations. He had a lot of problems, dozens, hundreds. He had a lot. Everyone did, but Touya didn’t have to deal with everyone else’s.

He just had to deal with you.

You were one of those concentrated types, your smile always a little too personal and your stare always a little too intense, like you were trying to see how much his organs would go for on the black-market before you bothered to cut him open. You were put together, too, and if he hadn’t taken the liberty of following you home so many times, he never would’ve guessed you were staying at some cheap, back-alley motel, the kind meant for people who just wanted to be anywhere but the place they used to be. A run-away, he’d guessed, at first, but you were too old for that, and you were too good at pretending you weren’t living out of the suitcase Touya was starting to get tired of rummaging through. Maybe you were a petty criminal, a villain too minor to be on his radar - he didn’t know, and he really wasn’t interested in finding out. All that mattered to him was that he’d met you, decided he liked you, and hadn’t been able to think about much else since. It was an issue, really, and it was starting to get in the way of his work. It was starting to get in the way of everything.

But, he’d had this kind of problem before. He knew what to do. He knew how to handle it.

You seemed to want to be handled, too.

You were laughing, again, but he wasn’t really sure why. It might’ve been something he said, your own little joke, but he didn’t mind the sound, all bells and wind chimes and a practiced ease that threatened to divert his focus, as he tried to keep his eyes on the road. You were slumped in the passenger seat, and if he checked, he was sure you’d be looking out the window, counting turns, memorizing street names, doing what little you could to track the convoluted, darkened route he’d been sure to plan out days ago. You’d come willingly, but you wanted to make sure you’d be able to find your way back without his help. For his own sake, Touya pretended you were just being cautious.

“I didn’t expect a Hero to live so far from the city.” Your voice was just as light, just a notch more confident than it had been at the convenience store you both frequented, the one you’d been working at when he stumbled in, closer to sunrise than sunset and ready to fall in love with the first person who smiled at him. The job hadn’t lasted, but Touya couldn’t think of a reason to mourn the loss. You wouldn’t have been desperate enough to take him up on his offer, if you still had a steady income. “Didn’t mark you down as one of those ‘cabin in the woods’ types, either. I’m not going to find, like, a box of dismembered body parts or anything, right?”

“Obviously,” He scoffed, his tone just playful enough to be disarming. “I try to keep my victims in one piece. Hackjobs aren’t as satisfying as you’d think.”

That earned a jab to his side, an offended ‘my hackjob would be’, but you lost interest in the exchange as soon as he reached the driveway, coming to a stop in front of that sprawling, climbing villa, three stories of concrete and glass, a stark contrast from the forest that surrounded it. You took a moment to take it in, scanning over the building, a predator evaluating its docile prey. When you turned towards Touya, your smile was just a little wider, your expression just a little brighter. “I really can’t thank you enough,” You went on, your tone so sentimental, Touya could almost ignore the hollowness behind it. “You sure you’re alright with this? My last place fell through, but I’m sure I’ll be able to find somewhere else to--”

“Don’t worry about that. All this is curtesy of the Hero Commission, and they don’t keep track of who comes ang goes.” Touya didn’t wait for you to finish, he didn’t have to, even if he did let himself enjoy your faux-gratitude as he undid his seatbelt. “Besides, it’s my job, right? I wouldn't want to find out you went and got yourself hurt because I couldn’t be bothered to clean out my guest room.” There was a slight pause, a short hesitation. You flinched when he raised his hand, but you didn’t pull away as he cupped your cheek, only learning into his warm palm. “Besides, I can’t say I’d mind a little company, all alone out here.”

In his defense, he wasn’t going to kiss you. Really, he wasn’t that mean, but he didn’t have a chance to refuse, not before your lips were on his, your hands in his hair, all sudden passion and over-eager excitement. He was stunned, at first, but Touya recovered quickly. Biting back a smirk, he leaned into the gesture, slinging an arm around your hip, tilting your head back and doing whatever he could to bring you close, to keep you close, just like he’d been dying to for months, now. He could feel you stifle a laugh, moving to pull away, but Touya only drifted to your neck, nipping at the edge of your jaw before he found your jugular, aiming for the sensitive area just above it. You only chuckled, blunt nails running over his scalp. “And I thought I was the needy one,” You chided, half-hearted pushing at his chest. “It’s cold out here, Todoroki. At least take me inside first.”

Right. Of course. He got carried away.

He almost forgot why you were actually here.

He didn’t let you go. He didn’t want to, so he didn’t bother trying, pulling you over the center console in one swift motion, leaving you in his lap, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder and an arm under your thighs, supporting your weight as he jerkily kicked open the door, letting you duck your head and giggle, always giggling, always trying to pretend to be meek and harmless and innocent. He wondered if you’d stop, eventually, if you’d drop the act once he decided both of you should show your true colors. He’d be lying if he said he hated the idea of choking it out of you.

The front door wasn’t locked. He didn’t bother, not with his profession, not when he knew he’d be coming home with you, tonight. If you noticed, you didn’t seem to mind, focusing on locking your ankles behind his back, on swallowing down that small, pained groan as he slammed your back into the nearest wall of his darkened villa just a little too hard, pretending not to notice as your smile wavered in the minimal light. “I don’t think this counts as protecting the--”

You were cut off by a loud thud, metallic and hollow, like someone hitting drywall with a baseball bat. You paused, for a second, your gaze flickering to the space behind him, but he was quick to kiss your cheek, to bring your attention back to where it should be, on him. “‘s just my roommate,” He mumbled, hoping you’d be too used to the excuse to linger on it. “Don’t pay it too much mind. He’s probably just fucking around.”

This time, your smile dropped completely. “The Hero Commission... lets you have a roommate?”

He caught his mistake a second too late. He opened his mouth, ready to explain, but another noise interrupted him, a rattling this time, followed by another deafening, irritating thud. He grit his teeth, but you only stiffened, your next shove to his chest a little more insistent than the last. “He might be hurt,” You started, the concern in your voice more genuine than it’d been all night. “We should check on him, that sounds--”

“It’ll be fine.” He spoke a little too quickly, a little too aggressively. Instantly, your eyes widened, your entire body going tense against his, and Touya had to fight not to lose his composure completely. It was too soon. It was too early. He wanted to be sweet. He didn’t want to be mean, not with you. “Just ignore it, sweetheart, it’s not important. You’re here for me, right? The brat shouldn’t--”

It was a slip-up. A petname so common, he hardly noticed he’d said it until you were scrambling, writhing, digging your nails into his biceps deep enough to break the skin, forcing him to let you go out reflex alone. You barely managed to catch yourself, but you stayed on your feet, shoving past Touya while he was still hissing out curses, clutching at bleeding wounds and broken scars. There was another thud, and you moved to sprint in the direction it’d come from, but he was a Hero, he was trained for this. You were on the ground before you could take a step, Touya straddling your stomach, his hands around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, though, he didn’t want to strangle you. He was going to be patient. This was going to be different. “Just behave,” He growled, fighting to hold onto the last threads of his restraint. “It’s not important. I’m important, and that’s all you have to care about. That’s all you’re ever going to care about, from now on.”

You didn’t hesitate. As soon as he finished, you were jerking forward, your forehead colliding with his and forcing a ragged scream from both of you. He’d give you credit for that. Villains and Heroes fought with quirks, specialized weapons, tactics and strategies and purpose. This was blunt. This was thoughtless. It was impulsive, and it was stupid, and it worked, letting you push him away as he recoiled, suddenly too focused on his pounding skull to care about what you might find. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. None of your little tantrums would.

He’d find you, eventually. After that, the results would be the same.

That might’ve been why Touya took his time, pushing himself to his feet slowly, following the sound of your footsteps before they abruptly stopped. He tried not to be bothered by it, even if there was a familiar pang of anxiety when he saw you, your mouth agape and your body slack, leaning against a door that should not be open. He might’ve walked a little faster, out of habit, but if you noticed him, you were too distracted to care. He couldn’t blame you. Not when he knew what you were looking at.

He got a little carried away, with the girls’ room. Pale pink paint coated on every surface, fairy-lights strung along the ceiling, and a white, circular rug, fluffy and stainless and just small enough to stop before it reached the three cots, settled along each of the walls, each with its own frilly sheets and plush mattress and bare, metallic frame, something Touya might’ve considered swapping out if their opponents were a little more grateful. Two were empty, the first a spare if he needed room for a future ‘guest’ and the second a reminder to check on the bitch in his basement, and the third was on its side. That was what you were focusing on, what he couldn’t seem to pull you away from as he slotted himself against your back, wrapping an arm loosely around your waist.

That, and the girl sitting in front of it, a ball-gag stuffed in her mouth and a collar around her neck, thick and leathery and attached to a chain, keeping her tethered to the nearest wall. There were a few noticeable dents in the plaster around her bracket, but Touya had better things to worry about.

There was a garbled scream, something that might’ve been a warning, but Touya silenced her off with a glare sharp enough cut glass. “Shut it,” He barked, all pretense of patience gone. “Shut up, or you’re going to spend the next week in a muzzle. I’ll deal with you later.”

“You kidnapped her.” At least you waited your turn, even if the delay did little too soften the disgust in your voice. “You’re a monster. You’re supposed to be--”

“A hero?” You tried to shove him away, to pry him off of you, but he only tightened his grip. “And you’re supposed to be an innocent civilian, aren’t you? Something soft and appreciative I can feel good about helping, fuck, and forget about the next day, right?”

“Don’t try to--”

“Where do you keep the bottle, sweetheart?” Now, it was your turn to go tense, to know he saw something he shouldn’t have seen. “Don’t lie to me. It won’t be pretty, if we start off this relationship on a bad foot.”

You hesitated, for a moment. He saw your swallow, watched your eyes dart towards anything that could’ve been considered a weapon, but his fingers slipped under your shirt and you bowed your head, giving in at the slightest threat of something worse. He liked that about you. Such a simple thing, too afraid of pain to take the risk. “My jacket. There are pockets on the inside - it’s on the right.”

He’d give you credit. It looked realistic, if nothing else, a translucent orange bottle with a white lid, the label scratched off in a way that could’ve been mistaken for nervous fidgeting, if Touya didn’t know better. With one hand, he popped off the lid, barely glancing at the unmarked pills inside before letting out a pleased hum.

Sedatives. Not lethal, but effective. The type you could get from any low-ranking Villain with a surplus supply and a greater need for clients than most.

The type that could be slipped into wine glasses, mixed into water. The type that’d keep your trusting, unsuspecting host nice and unconscious while you helped yourself to anything that wasn’t nailed down. While you robbed him blind, stowed yourself away in another cheap motel room two towns over, and scouted for the next poor guy who’d be too embarrassed to say anything.

Touya couldn’t help himself. He laughed, loudly and shamelessly, watching as you withered, glaring at the tiled floor. He couldn’t tell if it was fear of loathing, half-suspended terror or that deep, ingrained hatred any good predator should feel when it’s caught in a trap, but your voice couldn’t have made it more clear. “What’s your plan?” You spat, all humiliation, all spirited, adorable anger. His grin widened, the lasting tension in his shoulders dissolving, but if you noticed how much he enjoyed your little show, you didn’t bother trying to keep your mouth shut. “Arrest me? Hand me over to the police and let me tell them all about your creepy, fucked-up dollhouse?” You never looked up. You never so much as tried to meet his eyes, let alone glance at the ‘victim’ you’d been so intent on saving a few minutes ago. “Let me go. You don’t have another choice, unless you’re willing to get your hands dirty.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’m not gonna kill you.” It wasn’t a lie, but you didn’t seem to believe him, going rigid as his lips brushed against the nape of your neck. It was a fleeting gesture, but he didn’t let himself linger. He’d have plenty of time for that once he got you used to your new role, under his care. Once you got used to him. “I’m not gonna hand you over, either. That’d just be a waste.”

He might’ve been a little mean, after all. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have given you so much time to answer, so much time to tremble. At least you didn’t try to get away, this time. You were already learning. “I… I don’t--”

“I’m going to take care of you, angel. Just like I’m taking care of her.”

There was a moment of stillness, a small, ragged sob, but Touya couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. He couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but satisfied.

Because Todoroki Touya had a problem. Because he was awful and hungry and greedy, and he had a problem.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to fix it.

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

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champagne problems (part 1)

here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!

no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt

obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!

Masterlist | AO3

Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.

“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.

Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”

“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”

Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…

“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”

“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”

Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”

“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”

Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.

As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.

“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.

Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”

The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.

“You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse”

“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.

“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”

It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems”

“Thomas? Are you alright?”

He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”

“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”

“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”

Piers nodded.

Thomas kept reading.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems”

Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.

“You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating”

He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.

And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems”

He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.

“You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems”

A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.

Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.

I… I’m sorry, Thomas.

Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-

Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through”

Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.

“One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "You’re the only one I want by my side, What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”

Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.

It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.

Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.

That was the last time they’d spoken.

Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.

“Well, you'll find the real thing instead Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems”

Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket New picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

“You won't remember all my Champagne problems”

Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.

Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.

“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.

“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.

There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.

“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”

Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”

Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”

“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”

Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.

Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #fanfic #fanfiction #champagne problems au

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

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Pairing: doctor!Jungkook x reader (ok, technically clinical technician!Jungkook lol)

Wordcount: 1.6k

Genre/Rating: Fluff! strangers to friends to a lil’ more 👀👀

Tags/Warnings: mentions blood just for a moment (when talking about JK’s work). shouldn’t be anything too crazy, Jungkook is just your annoying new neighbor that sings abnoxiously loud in the shower. oh, and did I mention that the two of you share a wall?

a/n: You wonderful, beautiful people! This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click here to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! And THANK YOU @ezralia-writes for commissioning this! *insert round of applause and flowers* I hope you enjoy!

April 23rd

You should’ve known it was too good to be true.

You’d been living in utter bliss for the past six months, having moved across the city to a relatively quiet part of town. You had a neighbor; you were sure of it. Had seen their car in the parking lot too many times to not have one.

It’s just, you never heard them. Let alone saw them.

Which was completely fine. The loud, obnoxious lifestyle people usually adopted in a city as bustling as Seoul had never suited you anyway. For six months, you basked in the glorious silence from your next door neighbor. The only signal that you ever got that they were even there was the occasional time you’d both be showering at the same time. Your bathrooms shared a wall, which you tried to ignore. Thankfully, your neighbor seemed to ignore it as well.

So why is there a man suddenly belting out I Will Always Love You as though performing a one-man tribute to Whitney Houston?

The sound of his booming voice nearly knocked you off your feet as you made quick work of shaving your legs. Surely he must have heard your shower running! Can’t a woman get some peace and quiet on a Friday morning?! There’s nothing to celebrate yet!

You even make a point of clearing your throat loud enough to be heard on the other side of the wall, but he doesn’t falter in his loud, albeit dazzling, rendition of the song. He pauses for a second, giving you just enough time to let out a sigh of relief and begin on your other leg.

Leg soapy and ready to be shaved, you make it halfway through one swipe before the singing starts up again.

He only paused to switch songs. Whitney Houston tribute over, he begins a passionate ode to Adele’s greatest hits.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You sigh, resolving to finish up before the song is over and you’re subjected to another.

May 1st

It begins innocently enough. After a week of subjecting you to his siren-like voice, there’s a knock on your door. Of course, you assume it’s the food you’d ordered, so you just finish throwing your sweatshirt on before wrenching the door open.

“Hey,” you look up to tell the deliverer that you just need to grab your wallet, but your mouth runs dry at the sight before you.

Grinning with a friendly smile that might be a bit of overkill, a boy – nah, a whole man if we’re being honest here – gives you a sheepish wave. His long brown hair is falling into his eyes, which he meticulously brushes off to the side.

“Hey! You must be my neighbor!” When you keep staring at him with what you hope is a look of neutrality, he flushes a deep red. “I- er, I mean, obviously. That was kind of dumb of me…”

“You’re not the food guy?” It’s the only you can think to say, willing your eyes to focus in on his face and not the way his sweatshirt and sweats look on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah. Neighbors.”

The man before you lets out an adorable chuckle at your silly comment. “Oh, good. I’m not the only awkward one here.”

“Woah! I’m not awkward! I’m just hungry!” You cry out, making him only laugh harder.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he says, nose crinkling as you look at him with wide eyes. So this is what was on the other side of the wall, belting out Mariah Carey this morning. “I just moved in last week, and realized that I haven’t even come over to say hello. You know, like a friendly neighbor should.”

“Hey, Jungkook.” You look around, wondering if there’s anyone else outside witnessing this incredibly awkward first meeting. “I, uh, well…I’m me.”

He snorts. “Yeah, I know. I’m assuming your name is the one on the mailbox? Next to mine?”

We have mailboxes??

“Oh, ha! Yeah, that’d be it.” You shuffle back and forth on your feet, unsure of what to say next. “Well, I thought you were the delivery service-“

“I just delivered food, too!” Jungkook says with a grin. He runs his hands up and down his arms even though it’s not cold outside. “I was thinking that…you know, we could eat together? I actually ended up ordering extra, but it looks like that wasn’t necessary.”

You grin, settling against your doorframe. “Ah, so you’re here to woo me with takeout? You should’ve just said so.”

It looks like Jungkook’s considering moving again. He swallows thickly, eyes flitting over to you before staring down at your floor. “Actually…I heard you watching TV…were you watching Wanda Vision?” When you nod, he sucks in a breath. “It’s just, I haven’t bought a TV yet, and-“

“Oh, tough luck. Good luck with that.” You burst out into a fit of giggles at the tentative look in his eyes. Silently forgiving him for all those mornings that doubled as musicals over the past week, you wing the door open a little wider and gesture for him to come inside. “Come in, I need someone to bounce theories off anyways.”

That’s all it takes before Jungkook is bounding inside, settling down on your couch with an air of comfortability that seems so at odds with his shy nature. Then again, everything about him seems to contradict his shy smile.

You like it.

June 2nd

What originally started as a simple friendship; Jungkook brought food and you let him have the remote; quickly turned into constant interaction. You learned that he had a roommate that was hardly ever home named Taehyung. He has a brother that he visits every other month. He works as clinical technician, but he’s known more for his beautiful voice more than his title as doctor.

Apparently he was known in the lab for singing little lullabies to the glass flasks containing different samples of blood and other fluids, even occasionally chatting with them as though they were avidly listening.

The more you learned, the more you really wished your old neighbor never moved out in the first place. Especially as you slipped on some shoes to take out the trash one night only to run face first into a familiar chest.

“Jungkook,” you groan, rubbing your nose and peeking up at the boy-like grin he wears. “What was that for?“

You step around him, closing the door to your apartment and heading down the stairs to where the dumpsters were located. “My bad. I was just about to knock.”

He matches your stride, hair whipping about in the wind. You realize that he’s wearing his lab coat, making you furrow your brows. “Aren’t you supposed to leave that at the lab?” You ask, pointing to the white coat.

Jungkook pouts, looking down at his coat as though just remembering that he was still wearing it. “Oh, well I have to wash it, you know. I brought it home with me today.”

“Ok…but why are you still wearing it?” You give him a half-smile as he reaches to open the lid to the dumpster, allow you to throw your trash inside.

Jungkook blinks, as though this latest question completely threw him for a loop. “Uh…I thought it might help.”

“With what?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You think doctors are sexy, don’t you?”

“What?!” You choke out quite literally, beginning to cough. “Who- I never said that!”

Jungkook grins maliciously. “Yeah, but I heard you watching Grey’s Anatomy the other day. And it was on your recently watched.”

You begin to walk away, waving him off. “That doesn’t mean anything, Jungkook. So what? It’s just a show.”

Running ahead of you, Jungkook bounds up the first few steps before turning around to face you again, effectively cutting off your escape route. “Be honest. You don’t find them the least bit sexy? This coat does nothing for you?” He runs his hands down the lapels for emphasis.

You attempt to push past him. “What is even happening today?” Jungkook stops you in your tracks, hands on your upper arms and trapping you against the railing.

“I thought I might as well give myself a chance,” he mumbles, head tilted to one side as he takes in the way you’re staring up at him with utter confusion. “Don’t you wanna go out with a doctor?”

You blink slowly. “You…you’re setting me up with a doc-“

“Yah!” Jungkook groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many way do I have to say it? I want you to be the Wanda to my Vision!” “Jungkook, we’ve talked about this…” you sigh, hiding your laugh at his impatience. “They have a toxic relationship, why would I want that?”

“Don’t make me do this!” Jungkook whines, cheeks turning pink. “Just tell me yes or no!”

“To what?” You ask, feigning ignorance. “I don’t even know what you’re asking.”

“Nooo, you do,” Jungkook presses in closer as though that’ll help you understand. “I want you and I to…to…you know, I think we’d be good together.”

You frown. “Aren’t we together right now?”

“I swear-“ Jungkook takes a step back, sighing up at the sky. You snap your fingers, having a sudden epiphany.

“Oh, you mean together like we start singing duets in the morning through the wall?”

He blinks before bursting out into a fit of laughter. “I…yeah! Exactly!”

“No. But I will let you take me out on a date.” You give him a long look. “I’ve never been kissed by a doctor before, you know.”

Jungkook turns an impressive shade of red. “O-oh. You haven’t?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’. Turning to head up the stairs, you leave him in his shock. “Wonder what it’s like.”

Taking off in a run, you only get about a two second head start before Jungkook overtakes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close, wide eyes eating up every inch of your skin.

Tilting your chin up, he breathes out, “Well, why don’t we change that?”

masterlist

commission a request!

#jungkook x reader #doctor!jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x y/n #bts x reader #bts oneshot #jungkook oneshot #Jeon Jungkook x reader #doctor!bts #bts neighbor au #bts as your neighbors #jungkook neighbor au #armyadvocatesaapi

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olderthanthemorning · 3 years

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gold rush (bill weasley) part 1

pairing: bill weasley x reader

summary: “everybody wonders what it would be like to love you.” bill weasley is a golden boy, but i don’t like a gold rush. (based on the song “gold rush” by taylor swift)

wc: 3.1k

warnings: none, someone walking in on someone else but nothing dirty, swearing

a/n: hello! so i didn’t mean for this to be so long lol but anyway, there will be more. once again, a song has inspired me to write. i feel like gold rush totally describes bill and so i tried to run with that. as always, i would love comments/feedback. also if you like it please reblog/follow! i want to start taking requests!

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what a cliche it would be to be hopelessly in love with bill weasley. the charming gryffindor was the poster child of his house, his year, and his family. don't get it twisted, it wasn't that he didn't deserve all the praise; he was kind to younger students, witty in his classes, and bloody brilliant in your shared defense against the dark arts class. you just found it a little funny that everyone he met instantly fell in love with him. how could you take someone like that seriously?

"so you really don't think he's cute?" your friend, rose, asked you as you entered the great hall, the smell of fresh bread and pumpkin juice temporarily distracting you.

"no, that's actually not what i said. he's quite fit, it's just think people make too much of a big deal about it. sometimes i think you'll wet yourself when he looks at you in the corridor." you threw yourself down at your table and started reaching for the pile of sandwiches in the middle of the table. if you two wanted to make it to the beginning of the gryffindor vs ravenclaw game, this would have to be a quick lunch.

"well it's not everyday you see an arse like that in the corridor!" rose says. taken aback by her forward statement, you shove her shoulder, "gross, rose." after a few more minutes of conversation and inappropriate comments from rose, you down the last of your juice and pull your companion off the bench and toward the door.

you could hear cheers long before you were close to the game. after finding a spot with your house, you saw madam hooch release the snitch and the players shoot up to start following the quaffel. a flash of red hair passes in front of the stands as another weasley, charlie, flies at lightning speed.

The game was action packed, but not short. your cold muscles ached a bit as you moved them to walk into your dorm and sit on your bed. as if reading your mind, your roommates crowd into the bathroom to start the showers. you groan, knowing that at this rate, it'll be an hour before you can warm yourself with hot water. then a thought crosses your mind. the prefect bathrooms. your sister had been a prefect years before and had told you where they were, something you were silently thanking her for now. you gathered your towel and robe and slipped out of the room before anyone could ask where you were going.

The prefect bathroom was large and dimly lit, something that made it seem even colder when you walked in. on the far wall there was a myriad of knobs, all leading into a large bath that looked like it could hold your entire upper level herbology class. throwing down your stuff on a nearby bench, you rush to turn all the knobs you can, as blue, and green, and sparkling gold liquids splash into the basin along with steaming water. you slid out of your cold clothes and into the tub, hissing at the difference in temperature between your skin and the water. the water was heavenly and you sunk in until your shoulders were under the water, pulling your hair up from the nape of your neck so not to wet it. the room had filled with the scent of lavender and honeysuckle, and you closed your eyes to take it in.

suddenly there was a creak that you immediately recognized as the door opening. 'fuck, fuck, fuck,' you thought. you could chance jumping out and hoping the person didn't see you naked or you could wait to get caught. you decided that your clothes were too far, and started frantically ushering as many bubbles to you as possible, trying to cover your body. you turn your back to the entrance just as you see the shadow of someone begin to round the corner.

"oh, shit, i'm sorry i didn't realize someone was in here." you wanted to curl up into a human ball of embarrassment. not only did the voice belong to a boy, but you knew exactly which boy it belonged to, and it rhymed with will beasley. unsure of how to respond, you just let out a nervous laugh, not wanting to let your voice give you away as someone who was definitely not a prefect.

"okay, well... i'll just come back later." you waited until you could no longer hear footsteps to climb out of the tub. once dry and wrapped in your fluffy robe, you reentered the hallway, but only after sticking your head out to make sure bill wasn't waiting by the door. as you walked back to your dorm, you could only begin to imagine all the teasing rose would give you when she found out he had seen you in the bath. luckily, by the time you cocooned yourself in your comforter, she was already asleep. you would have to tell her in the morning, or maybe you wouldn't.

by breakfast the three days later, the bath incident had left your mind. after the first 24 hours, you felt sure bill hadn't suspected anything, and even if he did, there was no way he could tell who the student in the bath was. you had to pause with the spoon of porridge halfway between your bowl and your mouth, because rose's impression of flitwick had made you burst into laughter. an owl fluttered down in front of you, dropping an envelope with your mother's handwriting on the front. you ripped it open and began to read.

"Dear y/n,

Hello love, I hope you're doing well with all of your classes this term. I'm writing to tell you that we'll be spending part of the Easter holiday with one of my friends and her family. Her name is Molly and she has two sons at hogwarts. Be sure to say hello to them, Molly says they're nice boys. The three of you can leave school together to travel home for break. I miss you dearly and can't wait to hear about your term in person.

love always,

mum"

rose put her chin on my shoulder to read the letter. "i didn't know your mum was friends with the weasley's," she giggled, obviously thinking about bill. "yeah, well that makes two of us." to be honest, you never really realized your mum had close friends. there was no reason for her not to, it had just never occurred to you that your parents were people outside of being your parents.

"actually, it makes four of us," you whipped around to see bill and charlie, a letter you assumed was similar to yours grasped in bill's hand. "my mum wrote they met here as kids and ran into each other a few weeks ago in diagon alley." his easy smile was attractive and his hair fell effortlessly into place, with one soft strand too short to be pushed behind his ear. it looked almost like someone had written it in, it was so perfectly placed.

"wicked," escaped rose's lips as a strained whisper. you elbowed her, praying that she would come to her senses and start acting like a real person.

"listen, i got to run to practice, but let's meet in the main entrance tomorrow morning, yeah? 10am?" charlie butt in, reaching around his brother to grab a banana off your table and without waiting for even a nod, turned to catch up with the rest of his team at the other end of hall.

"sorry about him, he's..." bill was suddenly looking down at you with a slightly funny expression, a small grin on his face.

"preoccupied?" you finish his sentence, marking the first words you've said since he approached you.

"yeah," then, he leans down close enough that only you can hear him when he says, "next time you go for a soak, i suggest trying the orange blossom bubbles," maintaining eye contact with you the whole time.

taken aback, you feel yourself get blush and lean back, your brow furrowed, "what? how did you-"

"i didn't realize you were so interested in astronomy, y/n," he says a little louder, standing back to his tall figure and casually tapping the back of his neck.

you mimic his motion and remember the small tattoo of a moon that sat at where your neck met your shoulders. you close your eyes and cover them with one hand. maybe if you shut your eyes hard enough and clicked your heals he would disappear. or even better, you would. "i'll see you tomorrow," he sent another cheeky smile and turned to walk away, hands in his pocket, laughing quietly to himself.

"um... what the fuck," rose spoke, making you realize you were still watching his back. "what was that about? how does he know about your tattoo?"

"he might've walked in on my while i was bathing a few days ago," you said, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

"WHAT?!" it was even louder than you expected. honestly, you loved rose but bringing attention to herself, and by proxy, you, was something she had a knack for, but not in an endearing way.

"would you calm down please? everyone was taking too long in the showers so i went to the prefects' bathroom and he came in. he only saw my back so i didn't think he knew who it was, but i forgot to account for moony back there," you rolled your eyes, how could you forget about something that you had chosen to put on your body forever?

"merlin, that's so not fair, do you know what i would give to be seen naked by bill weasley?" once again, you were slightly horrified by a comment made by your best friend. this is what you didn't understand about everyone's fascination surrounding bill. even as he walked away, you had noticed a handful of other students following him with their eyes. it was a fact that bill was attractive, beautiful even, but the way people would do anything for his attention freaked you out. being treated like that had to go to someone's head eventually.

"okay, that's enough of that. i'm just glad he didn't give me detention or something," you went back to your breakfast, although you were no longer very hungry.

the journey to the weasley's cottage by the sea was uneventful. in the morning, you boarded the hogwarts express with charlie and bill. you didn't speak much, but read a book in your shared compartment while charlie talked to bill non-stop about the latest quidditch techniques. "and i've been reading about dragons, and how they fly, and i think it would be really cool to try some of their flying patterns on a broom. it would be really hard and i'd have to make a few adjustments, because obviously i'm not a huge majestic creature, but if it worked, it'd be brilliant!" you looked up to see charlie on the edge of his seat, trying to mark some of the flying patterns, and looking intently at bill, as if waiting for him to be just as excited. "that sounds great, charlie, really. how did you start on about dragons?" bill quickly caught your eye and tried to share some of the amusement his brother brought him. "hagrid gave me a book, they're really something, bill."

your party gets off at king's cross, and you followed the older boy through the station, until he stops in front of a women's toilet. "uh, i think the men's is over there," you said pointing behind you. charlie laughed. "hah," bill faked a monotone laugh, "there's a portkey inside that will take us to shell cottage. dad said it was a," he looked down at a paper in his hand, "toilet brush. lovely. right, we have three minutes until it leaves. ladies first." he gestured and you entered the room. it was somewhat cramped with the three of you and your trunks, but in the corner was a white, and thankfully clean looking, toilet brush. you grabbed it and held it out for the others to hold on too. after about 10 seconds of waiting, you felt your body being pulled up and then like you had just jumped off a high diving board at a pool. falling, but strangely still feeling like you were upright. before long, your feet hit solid ground again, well somewhat solid ground. the sand made your landing shaky, as it moved under your weight. you looked up and saw a cozy house with warm light glowing from the windows.

after lots of introductions and even more hugs, you finally settled yourself in to a guest room. the view was beautiful. the sun was just starting to set over the sea, the orange hues reflecting off the vast water. putting away the last of your things, you walked down the stairs and announced to your mum and molly that you would be going on a walk. they nodded and made you promise to be back for dinner before returning to their conversation. as soon as you got to the beach, you slipped off your shoes and feel the cool sand swallow each of your toes. it was crisp, but not too cold. you walk for a bit and then sit down on a dune, just taking in the picture the world had created for you.

you see a figure walking toward you and, as it gets closer, you notice it's bill. "mind if i join you?" he asked.

"of course not," you watched him as he sat. "it's beautiful here, your family has a really lovely house."

"thanks, mum has a talent for making any place feel like home." he looked out at the water, but for some reason you kept looking at his face, trying to find details. bill felt your gaze and his eyes met yours. normally, you would've looked away, but a new confidence allowed me to hold his eye contact. "so, tell me more about your tattoo." you chuckled, you should've known it would come up at some point or another.

"i got it with rose on holiday using fake muggle IDs," you explained.

"any special meaning behind it?" he asked, his eyes were now flickering from yours to your neck.

"nope, just liked the art," it was true, you knew you wanted to get a tattoo but didn't want something that held too much weight, so you got something that was simply beautiful.

"that's cool," he said, reaching to touch it with his index finger, "did it hurt?" you shivered at the contact and he pulled away, "sorry."

"no, that's okay," you said turning slightly away from him so he could see it better and indicating that he could touch it. he went back to tracing it with his finger, leaning in to get a closer look. "it didn't hurt as much as i thought it would. but now that you've seen it, it's only fair that you tell me if you have any secret tattoos."

you heard him laugh, "obviously, i've just got the gryffindor lion across my chest, nothing crazy," he joked. you smiled and turned back to him.

"seems very fitting for you."

"oh yeah?"

"charismatic prefect, brave older brother, top of our DADA class? if you were any more gryffindor-y you'd be called godrick," you poked fun at him and leaned back to lay down.

"merlin, you make me sound unbearable."

"well–" you start to trail off only to feel a foot hit your knee, just hard enough to show playful anger. "alright, alright, kidding!"

"do you know what you want to do after school?" he asked, also lowering himself to the ground, but staying propped up on one elbow, his body turned to you.

"not exactly, i really like herbology and history of magic, so maybe find a job where i can study how wizards lived in the past? like how they used plants and stuff" it was something you had thought a lot about, but hadn't really found an answer that fit well.

"you'd be great at that." you shot him a skeptical look. "what? it's not hard to notice you're brilliant in herbology. sprout has you practically teaching half the lessons." you felt a blush spread across your cheeks, and felt thankful that the sunlight was starting to dim. you hadn't even realized you two shared that class, you were always more occupied in the nearest plant.

"what about you?"

"something to do with defense against the dark arts, mcgonagall told me about a career in curse breaking that sounds good. i think it'd allow me to travel, which is a plus."

"that sounds amazing," you say, your mind whisking you away to all the places you wanted to see.

"you can come and visit me, wherever i am." bill chuckled, letting another heart-breaker grin fall into place on his lips.

"and what makes you think we'll keep in touch after we leave hogwarts?" the tone turning back to a lighter banter. you push yourself up onto your elbows

"well, for one thing, our mums. but i also just have a feeling." you're betrayed by your cheeks heating up again. you look into his eyes and find sincerity. they're a deep blue, almost like they've been taken from the nearby water. once again you're reminded of his handsomeness, but this time it's a little different. maybe it's because you've talked more and he's shown you the things he's taken time to notice in you. but his beauty feels warmer. like it was only for you, like it could engulf you. you can see he's started to move closer, and you start to mirror his actions. your eyes move from his to his lips and the light stubble that runs along his jaw, and back again to his eyes. "can i...?" you close your eyes and start to nod, anticipating the feeling of his lips on yours, until, "kids! dinner!" and just like that, the moment is ruined. the two of you open your eyes and put space between yourselves. you clear your throat and stand up, brushing sand off of your legs.

"we should get back," you say.

"uh, yeah, totally." he says, also standing and following you back to the house.

on the walk back, you make sure to stay a few steps ahead of bill to allow yourself some time to think. what had just happened? did you like bill? surely it was just a weird moment following a minor existential crisis about the future right? you should just forget about it and try to focus on spending time with you family the rest of the trip.

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