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simon-sehs · 3 months

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due (18+) pt 2

tags / cw: f!reader, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, sexually repressed!reader, smut, pining, flirting, inappropriate conduct, seduction, sexual tension, possessive!simon, mind games, public sex, virginity kink, fingering, oral sex, pussy eating, masturbation

You avoided him like the plague.

Tried to, anyway.

You couldn’t handle the thought of being near him without being able to touch him, or outright jump his bones. You relied on a daily mantra to keep yourself sane.

He’s not interested, you’re just desperate.

You laid in bed and glanced at the alarm clock. 2:36 in the morning.

It had been a couple days since Ghost had left the infirmary and started acting… weird. Cryptic.

You scoffed. Isn’t that just the default?

But then again, the things he had said to you… talking about you being… green…

…Touching you…

He knew you were a virgin, somehow.

God, was it really that obvious? But there was no way he could have made it to that conclusion alone. Soap knew, sure, but he wouldn’t have said anything.

…Would he?

Ah, hell…

You groaned and rubbed your tired eyes. It had to have been Soap. And then something else dawned on you.

Why did it matter?

Ghost was your Lieutenant. You trusted him, even if he was an ass sometimes. Personal things like this were bound to come out of the woodwork. It’s not like it would become relevant, anyway��

Even though you wanted it to be.

Maybe that was the problem. This whole ordeal had you feeling like a teen boy who discovered boobs for the first time. Hell, maybe even a lovesick little girl. Shit, would you even go that far? How much of your feelings were actually… authentic, vs the want—no, need—to get laid?

You carefully left the comfort of your bed and exited your room. The hallway was dark and cold on the bare legs not covered by your pajama shorts. A cup of coffee at this hour wasn’t the best idea, but it wasn’t like you were going to get proper sleep anyway.

You slowly and silently entered the empty mess hall… and froze.

Fuck. Me.

Ghost was sitting at one of the tables, his back facing you as he sipped from a mug of what you could only assume was his usual tea. However, he didn’t seem to know you were there.

Get. Out. Get out, get out!

You slowly turned on your heel, your bare foot squeaking against the damn tile.

Shit.

“Sergeant. What are you doing in here?”

You turned back around, but this time, your foot did not squeak against the floor again, as if to pour salt in the wound. You crossed your arms defensively. “Stalking you, obviously.”

He had turned to face you, his eyes instinctively moving to your bare legs for a second before returning to your eyes. “Funny.”

“I try. Can I go?”

“No. Not until you answer me, honestly.”

You sighed. “Came to have some coffee. What about you?”

“Not your concern.”

You grit your teeth. “Whatever.” You turned to leave now that his curiosity was sated.

“Wait…”

You paused and turned back around.

Ghost lifted his balaclava slightly to take a drink of his tea. You took the opportunity to soak in the sight of his jawline, his lips…

He set the cup back down and looked at you. “Come, sit.”

No. Bad idea.

Yet, you walked over and sat down across from him. He carefully pushed his mug towards you. “You can do better than that piss poor shite they call coffee here. Try this.”

“What if I don’t want to share your germs?”

He stared at you.

“Fine…” You picked up the still warm mug and tentatively took a sip. You weren’t sure what the flavor was, it tasted slightly bitter, but still pleasing to the tastebuds. You took another drink.

“Alright, don’t fuckin’ hog it…”

You set the cup down and pushed it back towards him. He took a drink.

Your gaze settled on his eyes, which appeared tired and haggard with the lack of makeup around them. It was weird, seeing more of his bare skin than usual.

“Nightmares?” You guessed.

“None of your concern.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then…”

“I change my mind, you can leave.”

You braced your arms on the cold table. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I making you feel uncomfortable, Lieutenant?” You asked sweetly.

His dark eyes met your gaze, but he remained silent. He leaned back in his chair. “Hm. Do I make you uncomfortable, Sergeant?”

You mulled it over in your head. Did he?

“None of your concern.” You said flatly.

“Ah, so not only are you a prude, but a jokester as well.”

You knew it was intentional. He was trying to piss you off, and you knew it. And yet, it still worked. “Yeah? So what?”

He smirked. “I hit a nerve, love? What’s the expression…? ‘It’s a joke, not a dick, don’t take it so hard’…” He chuckled.

“Let’s quit with the bullshit. Your little favor I owe you… you want my virginity, don’t you?”

“Ah, you’re not too daft after all. Good girl.”

You leaned back in your chair. “What I want to know is, why on Earth do you think I would indulge in your request?”

“Because you like me.”

“Do I?”

“I have plenty of reason to believe so.”

“Then you’re delusional.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Alright, then. Consider the favor forgotten.”

“…Wait, what?”

“You heard me. Consider your little mission fuckup buried and forgotten. Wouldn’t want to… pressure you into anything, of course…”

Your brows furrowed as he talked. This… was good, wasn’t it?

So then why did you feel disappointed?

“…What game are you playing at, Ghost?”

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one pretending that you don’t want anything to happen between us. I’ve seen the looks, the blushing… you’re not slick, love. But please… keep telling me I’m the delusional one…”

You frowned and glanced away.

“So, let me ask you, Sergeant: what do you want?”

“I… it doesn’t matter what I want…”

He took a drink of his tea. “How noble of you. Answer the question, properly. That’s an order.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You then closed your mouth and sighed.

“…Fine. I’ll take a guess.” He said, putting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. “You want me to take your virginity.”

You stayed silent, squirming in your seat.

“I hit the nail on the head?” He smirked. “I wonder… just how much you long for it. To lose that self-control, that pride you have for holding onto it for this long…” He took another drink. “To let someone take care of you… someone who… knows what they’re doing…” He whispered.

Your heartbeat accelerated, your skin beginning to feel hot all over as his words hit close to home. You swallowed. “W-what do you get out of it?”

He seemed surprised by the question, but chuckled with a smile. “What do I get? Well… I finally get to see what makes you tick in the bedroom. I get to bring out a new side of you, one that’s been boiling under the surface for… god, how long? Who knows. And, well, I’d be lying if I said the idea of ruining you for anyone else didn’t turn me on.” He leaned forward in his seat. “To fuck you so good, you won’t even daydream of gracing anyone else’s bed…”

You released a shaky breath.

“Poor girl, are you getting aroused?” He cooed. “C’mere.”

You stayed glued to your seat. “Huh?”

“Did I stutter, love? Come here.”

You waited a couple more moments before you slowly stood from your chair and walked around the table to him. He stood from his seat as well, now towering over you.

“Look at you… tell me what you want...”

“I… want you…”

“Yeah? What else?”

Frustration started to simmer beneath your skin. “I want… want you to fuck me…”

He chuckled and you started blushing. Then he slowly reached out and held your chin, his fingers hot and rough on your skin. “You sure?”

You nodded.

He let go of you and trailed a finger down your neck, the middle of your chest, along your bellybutton, and stopping at your shorts, where he traced along the hemline, caressing the bare skin between your shirt and pants.

Your eyes widened as the finger slipped inside the waistband…

“W-wait, there are cameras in here!” You whispered.

“I’ll delete the footage.” He said without skipping a beat.

“…What? You have access to that?”

He just raised an eyebrow.

“…Oh…”

His fingers continued delving into your shorts, past your underwear. You could hear the sharp intake of his breath as he made contact with your pussy.

“You poor thing…” He cooed. “You’re so wet, so eager to be filled…”

You could feel a blush forming again at his words, his fingers carefully rubbing and prodding at the different parts of you, as if mapping you out to memory. It felt arousing, but… weird.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

His brown eyes bore into yours. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m playing with your cunt.” He pinched your clit, making you yelp, and you clasped a hand over your mouth before glaring at him.

“Don’t give me that, love, or I’ll leave you empty handed.”

Your sigh was muffled by your hand, which you slowly dropped before making your gaze neutral again.

“Good girl…”

Ah, shit. This again. You moaned.

He finally adjusted his hand and started grinding his palm along your clit, the tips of his fingers swirling around your entrance.

Your heart raced in your chest, all of your nerves on high alert.

“You like this, love?”

You nodded. “Y-yeah…” You replied, breathlessly. “Can… can you do more?”

He tilted his head. “You’ll have to be specific. Do you want me to go faster? Do you want me to enter you? Do you—“

“In me. Please.”

He chuckled but complied, slowly slipping a finger inside. A choked sound left your throat. The sensation was odd, but… a bit fulfilling.

With one finger.

Heat washed over you at the thought of having his dick inside you.

“Oh, you really liked that, huh? I can feel you raining on my finger.” He started moving it in and out, making you moan. “You’re so soft… has anything else been inside? You? Toys?”

You blushed again and shook your head. “No, nothing.”

Ghost raised both eyebrows. “Nothing? You’re telling me you haven’t stuffed those pretty fingers inside once?”

“No… I always, uh… never-mind.”

He stopped his movements. “Tell me.”

You sighed. “I would always… uh… rub myself, instead…”

“Interesting…”

Then he entered another finger. You found yourself holding your breath, hands clutching onto his arms.

“Careful, love. Relax…”

You released your breath and breathed deeply. And then you could feel his knuckles at the base of your entrance. Oh. Oh wow.

He titled his hand to be cupping the curve of your cunt once more before moving his fingers again. You could feel yourself clenching around him, each stroke carefully caressing your soft walls, heat swirling around deliciously in your abdomen.

“Lieutenant, ohh…” You breathed out.

He stopped. “When I’m knuckles deep in you, you say my name.” He continued.

“Ghost…”

He curved his fingers, making you buck and moan. “Try again.”

You slowly met his gaze. “…Simon…”

“That’s it, lovie…”

You moaned again, laying your head on his shoulder as he continued to finger you. Your knees began to shake, much to your mortification.

“Having trouble?” He chuckled.

“N-no, I’m fine.”

“Good. Because I’m going to continue until you come on my fingers. And then? I’m going to eat your pussy, after.” He whispered into your ear, making you whimper. “You’re going to taste so sweet…”

“Oh, god…” Your grip tightened on him. “I… I think I’m gonna…”

“You think? Or you know?”

“I… I know. I’m gonna come…”

He started circling his palm against you, heightening your pleasure as his fingers lazily fucked you. Only then did you realize just how… loud… and wet you were down there.

“S-Simon…” You clenched around him, your orgasm making you twitch and your breathing stutter. Your previous orgasms had felt good, but at the hands of another? It was divine.

“‘Atta girl… good girl…” Ghost used his free hand to rub your back. “Now, lay down on the table.”

Your head was still swimming. “Huh?”

“Like I said, I’m gonna eat you out. Get on the table… no better place for it.” His grin was insufferable.

You let go of him and gingerly laid yourself on the table, wincing at the cold contact. Ghost either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, before he unceremoniously pulled both of your shorts and underwear to the side, and stared at your core. You started to feel somewhat self-conscious from his intense gaze.

“Fuck…” He muttered before leaning in and sniffing. Loudly. “Mmm…”

Your eyes widened and your face was on fire. Jesus…

And then it finally happened. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue up and down your folds, albeit a bit too eagerly. But then he slowed down, making his movements deliberate by circling your entrance, then your labia, and then your clitoris.

You moaned, very loudly. And then your closing eyes snapped back open as you felt his big hand closing over your mouth. “As pretty as your noises are, I need you to be quiet, you’re gonna wake the whole base.”

Then he continued licking you. You squirmed and jolted against him.

He sighed. “I’m also gonna need ya to stay still.”

“Thorry…” You mumbled against his hand.

Ghost smirked and then dived back in, but this time, he started sucking on your clit. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the arm that was stretched across your chest, holding onto your covered mouth as you quietly moaned against his palm.

“I was right,” he went back to his licking, “you taste amazing…”

Your neck ached as you held your head up to watch him, his movements precise and calculated. “Mmm…” You whimpered against his hand.

Wait, where was the other?

Your gaze followed the length of his other arm, still bandaged, which was slowly moving up and down. You couldn’t see past the table, but you didn’t need to. He was getting himself off. You moaned against his hand again, desperately wondering how he was doing it. You wanted to see so badly, and his hand on your mouth was preventing you from properly asking.

The fact that he was masturbating during this made you wetter, and your hips started grinding against his face, despite him previously telling you to stay still. But instead of chastising you, he simply raised an eyebrow and stopped his movements. Rather, he laid his tongue out and let you do as you pleased against it. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders, tightening behind his neck, making him moan.

“You’re very greedy for a virgin...” He breathed hotly against your pussy.

You didn’t bother with giving him a reaction. Your eyes may have been locked on his but you were tuned out, clinging to the sensation of the familiar build-up burning in your abdomen as the movement of your hips faltered, the angle of your body tiring you out already. Thankfully, Ghost saw his opening and continued his previous actions from earlier, before you took over.

You whimpered against his hand, grateful that he wasn’t going to let your budding orgasm falter…

And then he stuck his tongue inside you.

“Mmm!”

You winced as your head fell back against the table, but the sliver of pain didn’t matter. You were now coming again, your legs instinctively squeezing him closer to you. He grunted in response, but didn’t make any effort to let you know if he was uncomfortable, potentially getting suffocated by your vagina.

Hell, he probably likes that anyway.

But then your legs twitched and loosened as you rode out the momentary euphoria, and his hand slowly left your mouth.

You limped against the cold table, panting and exhausted. But Ghost did not seem to care.

“Up.” He commanded.

You groaned and slowly left the table, back aching slightly as you watched him walk over to a counter, grabbing a sanitation wipe.

Wait, what is he…?

And then he walked back over to you, and began wiping down the surface.

There was something so comical about the sight of your Lieutenant sanitizing a table after eating you out on it. But, you were also relieved and… endeared… that he was being so careful about this sort of thing. He then threw away the wipe and turned to face you.

“Alright. Now, go to bed, love.”

You snapped out of your stupor, confused. “Wait, what?”

“Sleeping. You know what it is, right? You get in bed, lay down—“

“Shut up! That’s not what I…” You cleared your throat nervously. “Is… that all you were… gonna do?” You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice.

He chuckled softly and crossed his arms. “For now, yeah.”

Confusion washed over you. For now? “Why?”

“Once again, I was right. You are a greedy little virgin.” His arms slowly untangled themselves as he walked up to you, a thumb tracing along your bottom lip. “You really want to know, sweetheart?”

Your heart flutters at the nickname. “Yes.”

“Fine…” His thumb left your lip as his hand began caressing your cheek, softly. “I want you to beg for more… for me. I don’t just want you to feel obligated to me, I want you to want to feel that way. I want you to enjoy feeling like that. Am I making sense?”

You blinked at him. “I… think so…”

“But… I’m also a patient man. I’m not going to rush into things, even if you say otherwise. I want you to squirm a bit, if I’m being honest. Make you really… soak it all in. Your feelings, that is.” He glanced down at your lips. “I want you to need me. More than you’ve ever wanted anyone in your life. More than you thought humanly possible…”

“…Are you done?”

“No.” He leaned in closer, your faces almost touching. “I want you to ache for me so badly, your pussy weeps at the sight of me. I want your everything.”

You continued staring at him. “I think you have issues.”

Ghost laughed heartily, the sound ringing in your head like sweet music. “Maybe. But… something tells me you like it.” He playfully smacked your face, before walking away. “You can have the rest of my tea.”

You don’t know where the anger came from. Maybe it was from feeling led on, in some capacity. Did you? You thought there was going to be more, the grand finale…

You turned to watch him go, before gritting out: “I’ll just find someone else, then.”

He quit walking but didn’t turn to face you. “Is that so, Sergeant?” Humor evident in his tone.

“Yes. It is.”

He chuckled. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

And then he left the mess hall without a single backwards glance. Your threat had fallen on deaf ears.

You stood there in the mess hall, alone and in the dark… mind racing…

…Fucker.

This wasn’t over.

[part one] [part two] [part three]

taglist: @waves-against-a-cliff @beansproutmafia

#simon riley #cod #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #my writing #if you wanna be tagged in final part lemme know k bye

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feelbokkie · 1 year

Text

BF!SKZ reacting to idol!reader fainting on stage (hyung line + hyunjin)

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

Maknae Line

**Requested**

Bf SKZ reaction to idol reader fainting on stage from malnourishment?? It can be a text reaction or anything that’s easy for you. Angsty and fluffy if u want. Thank you! 💖

genre: angst, a bit of fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: BF!SKZ's reaction to idol!reader fainting on stage from malnourishment (not proofread)

pairing: hyung line bf!skz x fem!idol!reader

warnings: swearing, mention of food, referring to an eating disorder

word count: listed below (3,963 total)

방 찬 (Bang Chan) (1,046 words)

The second you got on stage, Chan knew something was wrong. You just didn't look like yourself. You looked drained and your dancing was nowhere near as good as it normally was. He's watched you perform hundreds of times, he knows your routine like the back of his hand and he knows you do too. So when you were a few seconds out of sync from your other members, he was at the edge of his seat watching your every move.

The boys watched as Chan sat there in his chair, hands on his knees and slightly bouncing his leg. They couldn't catch what he was seeing in your performance. They knew you were a good dancer and that your timing was a bit off, but they didn't see how you were completely fumbling around missing steps and mumbling your lyrics.

You weren't feeling well. Truth be told, you haven't been eating much for the past couple of weeks. Last month, your group made an appearance on Weekly Idol and all the netizens could talk about was how much weight you had gain recently. It wasn't a lot, your company wasn't even putting you on a diet. But the amount of comments that you read about yourself had gotten to you. It started off simply at first. You didn't eat anything after 4, you worked out on days you didn't have dance practice, and you cut out snacks and carbs from your diet. But the closer it got to the current award show that you and your group were scheduled to perform for, the less you ate. You honestly can't even remember the last time you ate a proper meal.

Your performance was two minutes long, but it felt like it was 2 hours. The sound coming out of your in-ear starts getting further away, like you're in a car driving away from the music. Your field of vision slowly starts getting darker, making it harder to see your members in front of you. No, I can't pass out now. Just a few more seconds, let me at least get off the stage.

Chan sits in horror as he watches your eyes roll to the back of you head and your body slump to the floor just as the lights cut out to signal the end of your performance. He immediately jumps up and rushes backstage, not caring if his reaction sparks dating rumors. By the time he gets to you, staff members had gotten you off stage.

"What are you doing? You're not supposed to move someone who fainted!" Chan shouts, not caring that he causing a scene. Your group members were hovering around, not sure what to do while a staff member was fanning you. There was not a single person from the medical staff nearby yet.

"We can't just leave her on the stage, the show has to continue." Another staff member says.

"Excuse me?" Chan doesn't even turn to face whoever had the audacity to say that to him, instead his attention is still on you. The staff member could sense the tension in Chan's voice daring him to give him a reason to hit him.

"C...han?" You mumble, finally starting to stir. You're eyes are still closed but you could feel him near you.

Chan kneels down next to you and takes your hand. It's cold and clammy. Getting a proper look at you, he can see that your makeup artist put way more makeup on you than they normally do.

"I'm right here, Y/N. What's wrong with her?" He gently strokes you hand as the medic works on you.

"Her blood sugar is extremely low and she is a bit dehydrated. Luckily, we have stuff here for her. She's going to be okay." The medics carefully sit you up and hand you a juice box.

"How much sugar is in that?" You ask as you hesitate to take it.

"Enough," Chan takes the juice box and opens it for you, placing it in your hand when he's done.

Knowing that you're okay, your manager and the rest of the staff clear the room to give you two privacy. Another staff member comes up to you with a bag of chips. Chan also takes the snack from the staff member.

"Drink your juice, Y/N." He says, pushing the juice box to you mouth.

"You should go back to your group. We're going to be on dispatch tomorrow if you don't." You mutter, not taking a single sip of the juice. Instead, you turn it over to the nutrition facts and read every bit of information before putting it down.

"I don't care," he looks between you and the juice box, "they can write about me all they want."

"Chan,"

"You need to eat something."

"I'm fine,"

"Like hell you are!" You slightly jump at Chan's sudden outburst. Various staff members who were still in the area turn to see what the commotion is about. You know Chan has a temper, but he never yelled at you before.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. It just scared me watching you go down like that. I knew you were getting hate comments after your Weekly Idol performance, but I didn't know it was this bad. I should have realized--"

"It's not your fault. Truth being told, it wasn't that bad before. But the idea of being on camera again scared me and I kinda went overboard I guess." You take a sip from the juice box to put Chan at ease.

“I wish you came to me. I could have helped in some way.” He takes one of the chips and puts it in your mouth before you could protest.

“Might not have worked. You know I have trouble with food sometimes.”

“Yeah, but you still need to eat. You need to take care of your body.”

“I know, it’s just hard sometimes.” He shoves a few more chips in your mouth.

“Do you want me to start eating with you again? Would that help?”

“Maybe, but you have a busy schedule after today so it doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll video chat you then. And I’ll text you reminders to eat too. Just please, no more missing meals.”

“I’ll try,”

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho) (733 words)

Minho hung around backstage after his performance to watch you. He knew that by the time he got un-mic'd and back to his seat, your group would have already started performing. He would have a bad view watching from the wings of the stage, but at least he would be able to watch your full performance.

It was your groups first time performing a new song, and the choreography is the most difficult in your group's discography. The idea of performing it made you anxious. Being the main dancer of your group meant that you had the most difficult parts of the dance, adding to your anxiety. Wanting to perfect your routine, you opted for dance practices over meals, especially in the past few days. Your anxiety wouldn’t have let you enjoy anything anyways, you’d have just throw everything up. You just need to get through this performance and everything is going to be okay.

Your brain is foggy. You're not sure how you're hitting every move correctly. Maybe it's muscle memory. Or maybe you've been running your routine so much that it's all you can do. You move in sync with your member, moving with high intensity.

Minho watches as your backup dancers lift up you and your members. He also freezes in horror as he watches your body slump and hit the floor with a loud thump. The music stops, your members and the backup dancers surround you as you lay motionless. Various staff members run around backstage.

MInho blinks a few times, not sure he actually just watched you faint. He snaps back to reality as two of your group members help you backstage. You're awake, but sluggish, leaning on both of your members. Your head is bleeding and you look dazed. Everyone is murmuring about how the backup dancer dropped you, buy Minho knows better. He watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and your head fall back before you fell. He walks over to you and helps you walk over to a chair, taking the position of both of your group members.

***

"Y/N, will you please rest? You have a concussion." Minho calls from your kitchen. He was making you food, soup to be specific. The two of you went to the emergency room after your fall. They diagnosed you with a concussion. They gave you stitches and your manager care instructions and sent you home. Minho insisted on being the one to take care of you.

"If I rest, I might fall asleep." You call.

"The doctor said that you're allowed to sleep. He just said that I'm supposed to wake you up every few hours if you do for the next few days. So if you're tired, go ahead." You lean back into your couch and stare at the ceiling. Minho was strict about the no screen rule that was advised by the doctor. He even went as far as to confiscate your phone.

He comes into the living room with soup and lemonade. He set it on the coffee table in front of you before sitting next to you.

"You fainted, didn't you?" Minho asks as he picks up the bowl and gets a spoonful of food for you.

"I think so. I feel bad, everyone thinks that, that backup dancer dropped me. And I can't even say anything because my manager says not to." You watch as Minho blows on the spoon before feeding you.

"Why do you think you fainted?"

"Promise not to get mad?"

"I'm not promising that." He gets another spoonful of soup for you.

"Well, I don't want to lie to you anyway. I may or may not have missed a few meals."

"How many is a few?"

"I honestly don't know." You eat a little more soup.

"You hyper focused on dancing again, didn't you?"

"Unfortunately,"

Minho knows you well enough to understand that when you're too focused on dancing, your health is once of the first areas to suffer. He hands you the bowl of soup and leaves.

"I want you to eat every last drop of that soup." He calls from the kitchen again. He comes back a few minutes later with a sandwich.

"I don't think stuffing me with food is going to make up for the past few days of me not eating."

"I don't care, eat well and then rest."

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin) (647 words)

"She looks skinnier than when I saw her last... Doesn't she look thinner?" Changbin asks Jisung, who was standing next to him, during your performance.

"Hyung, I don't spend time ogling your girlfriend." Jisung pipes up next to him.

"Babo, I'm not setting you up. I'm just worried and I need to make sure I'm not seeing things."

"I genuinely don't know if she looks skinnier. But she does look paler--" Jisung is cut off as the pair watch you drop on stage.

Changbin doesn't hesitate making his way on stage to be at your side. Luckily for the two of you, the stage crew turns the lights off. He scoops you up and takes you backstage. He can tell that you've lost weight just by picking you up, it shouldn't be as easy as it was to pick you up. He felt like he was going to throw you. He lays you on a couch on backstage as the medical staff storms your still unconscious body.

"She hasn't been eating, she might be dehydrated." Changbin says from the side.

He knows you struggle with your weight. Being in the public eye had damaged your self-confidence and he constantly watches you struggle with food. To be completely honest, this isn't the first time he's watch you faint from lack of food. It's just the first time it's happened while you were working.

He tried to help you lose weight in a healthy way, not that you needed to. But you were adamant about it and he at least wanted you to be safe with it. As more people commented on your weight, the more you abandoned those safe methods. Normally he would catch on and try to intervene, but he just got back from tour two days ago and hasn't been able to see you until today.

"Hyung, they're calling us to go on next." Innie says softly.

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to go on without me. I can't right now." He says, not taking his eyes off you. Jeongin gives Chan a worried look. Chan nods and calls Innie to join the rest of the group.

"I'm...I'm fine, no need to make a fuss." You mutter, finally stirring and pushing the medical staff away from you as they try to put an IV in.

"No the fuck you aren't." Changbin didn't care if he was going to cause a scene. He didn't care if it was going to cause a scandal, either his behavior with you or the fact that he swore. He just didn't care.

"Binnie?" You look over to your side to meet your boyfriend's worried face.

"Just let them take care of you, Y/N. We'll talk later." He says softly. You nod your head and slowly lie back down.

***

You and Changbin sit together on the couch backstage, watching his group perform without him. Your head is resting on his shoulder and he is holding your hand. Neither of you care about hiding your relationship anyone more. You both know that none of the other idols are going to say anything and if the staff value their jobs, they won't.

"You should be out there with them." You speak softly, poking his sides.

"Why didn't you come to me when things got bad again?" He asks in the same tone, his eyes not leaving the stage.

"Changbin," You forgot how one-track minded he is, "I didn't want to bother you."

"I'm your boyfriend! Your problems are my problems!"

"Okay, shh..." You take your free hand and rub his back.

"I shouldn't be able to pick you up like a ragdoll." He whispers, finally looking at me. His eyes are red and glossy, like he's about to cry.

"I know, Bin. I'm sorry."

"You don't have you be sorry. I'll help you, okay? When you're ready, I'll help you."

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin) (1,537 words)

"Hyunjin? Are you okay?" Chan asked the younger man who was currently glues to his tablet.

"I am, but I'm not sure Y/N is. She looks...off." He squints his eyes focuses on you.

Your group is currently doing a concert. And while it’s local, Hyunjin had to miss it because the kids had to record for their next album. Instead, he has to watch you perform from a shitty live stream. When he’s not in the booth recording his parts, he’s watching you on his phone.

“It’s probably just the stream.” Felix says, looking over Hyunjin's shoulder.

“It’s not even fair! Why do I have to be here? I already recorded all my parts!” Hyunjin whined, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I’m going to kill him. I’ve had to listen to this all day. We’re all okay being just 7, right?” Minho pipes from the other side of the room.

“Minho, I know he’s annoying, but please don’t kill Hyunjin. Hyunjin, I tried to get you done early so you could go but you were so excited you kept messing up. Now can you guys please shut up, I’m trying to focus on In.” Chan is right, he got Hyunjin in the booth first and even tried to record his parts in all of their songs instead of recording each song one by one. But unfortunately, by the time he finished recording, the concert had already started and it would have been half over.

You had been on tour for the past few months and today is your last show, ending it back home was almost kismet since Hyunjin was also back home from his own work promotions. He was planning on surprising you at your show, but because of their hectic schedule, the boys only had today to record all of the songs before they had to get them mixed.

Slumping back into the couch, he brings his tablet to his face and tries to focus on you. The fan who was recording the live stream was close enough to see most of the stage. But the connection from their phone with the combination of their camera was bad. Every few minutes, there would be a couple minutes where he could watch a bit of your performance. Watching you do your solo in one of his favorite songs, he was mesmerized. His head bopped along to the song and he was calm for a second, content with just being able to watch you. When you're voice cuts out, he assumes the stream is acting up again. He sits, drumming the side of his tablet like it would fix the problem. He doesn't realize that for once it's not a technical error, but something is wrong with you until he watches your blurry body drop. He sit up quickly and just stares at his screen.

"What's wrong now?" Seungmin asks, not even looking up from his phone.

Hyunjin ignores Seungmin and continues watching the stream. He can hear the fans panicking in the background as the music stops and your members rush to where you remained on the ground.

"Hyunjin?" Changbin asks, nosy after Seungmin's question went unanswered.

You still hadn't gotten up from the floor and your leader and a couple of other members are now addressing the audience as some staff members make their way on stage. Hyunjin pulls out his phone and immediately goes to Twitter. He's not sure what happened. He assumed you fell but the way that you haven't even moved it worrying him. You, your group, and your concert are all already trending on Twitter. He nearly drops his phone as he reads multiple tweets saying you fainted and had to be carried off the stage.

"I need to go." Hyunjin shuts off his tablet and quickly gathered his stuff. He pulls opens up a car service app and orders a car to take him to the venue.

Everyone in the room stops what they're doing and watch Hyunjin move around the small room. Normally, they would just make fun of him and assume that he was being dramatic, yet again, and just trying to go see you. But they can sense something is wrong. Chan stopped the recording and turned to Hyunjin who looked very obviously frazzled.

"What's going on?" Chan takes his head set and turns to Hyunjin, who was now putting on his shoes.

"I don't know. All I know is that Y/N went down and everyone is saying that she fainted and they had to carry her off the stage." He runs his hand through his hair.

"Hyunjin, I know you're scared but wait a minute. If she really fainted and didn't get up they're going to take her to the hospital. You don't even know which one, so wait and try to contact her manager. Going to the venue would be pointless, especially with the traffic from the concert. I'll go with you, just wait like 15 minutes." Minho says, getting his stuff ready to go.

"Hyung--"

"He's right. I know you're scared and worried. We all are, but you need to wait." Chan says, standing up and putting his hand on Hyunjin's shoulder.

"I should have been at that concert, not here recording this fucking album." Hyunjin pushes Chan hand off of his shoulder, so full of anger and anxiety with no place to properly direct it.

"Okay, I think we've been pent up in this room for a while. Hyun, let's go get some air." Minho grabs Hyunjin by the crook of his neck and forces him out of the room.

The second they're outside, Hyunjin pulls out his phone and tries to contact your manager. The phone goes to voicemail. He crouches down to the floor and runs his hands through his hair. Minho puts his hands on his distressed younger member's head.

"I'm sure everything is okay. Maybe she slipped. You know how the stage can me sometimes."

"I was supposed to be there, hyung. She could be seriously hurt and I'm not there." He cries.

Minho pulls out his phone and types something in quietly. After he's done looking for what he wanted, he tapped Hyunjin's shoulder.

"Let's go. Odds are, they're going to the nearest hospital. I know which one it is."

***

By the time Hyunjin and Minho make it to the hospital, you and a few of your members are there. You're awake, hooked up to an iv staring at a wall. You don't even look away when someone knocked at your door.

"Hey," Hyunjin's familiar voice pulls your attention away from the wall.

"Hyun? What--what are you doing here?" You sit up at Hyunjin makes his way to your bed.

"I came to see you, obviously. How are you feeling."

"Tired. Embarrassed. I'm going to be all over the news tomorrow, I just know it."

"If it makes you feel any better, your fans are sending you well wishes." He places a hand on yours.

"I'll have to look later. I just don't feel up to it right now."

"I heard you haven't been eating well."

"It's not what you think."

It's exactly what he thinks. Hyunjin knows that you struggle with food. It started when you first began training with your company and they refused to debut you the first few years you were there because your looks weren't up to their standards. You were fine most of the time, but every once in a while you relapse. A tweet a fan made with a picture of you commenting on how you've been "eating well" on tour set you off this time. That and the added stress of touring, promoting, and working on new music. Everyone started commenting on the weight you gained while touring and it made you self conscious. You started restricting your diet a few weeks ago. Today was extra stressful so you somehow managed to forget to eat on top of everything.

"Please don't lie for my sake. You don't look like you."

"What? Fat?"

"You're not fat."

“Hyun—“

“Hey you,” he presses a finger to your forehead, “stop being mean to my girlfriend.”

You softly giggle. You reach for Hyunjin’s hand and hold it. You missed this. You don’t want to say that your mental health depends on one person, that too much pressure that you don’t want to add on Hyunjin. But normally when you felt like this, when you would start hating yourself, Hyunjin would notice the dark cloud forming over your head a brush it away. But with both of you being busy with work and being several thousands of miles apart, and the toll of of both of your jobs it wasn't possible this time. And when Hyunjin couldn't read your cues, you would come to him. But you knew he was busy getting ready for a comeback and you didn't want to bother him.

"I'm just glad you're okay, babo."

"Hey, a babo can't call someone a babo. And at least I'm not the leader of baboracha."

"Okay, okay, you win. Scooch over," I move over to the side so Hyunjin can climb in.

"We'll talk more tomorrow. Let's just rest, okay my muse?"

"Okay,"

—

Buy me a coffee?

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reqxxyt · 1 year

Text

the minute i fell

pairings: charles l. x f!reader

summary: in which Charles and Carlos make a bet to get with the photographer of Ferrari, a reserved introvert, but finally getting the chance to speak to her, Charles realizes he already lost.

warnings: i had no idea how to end this.. very rushed ending

wc: 2.1k

masterlist requests are open!

[unedited]

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

The duo sat on the paddock floor, laughing along as others passed them in the ferrari garage not taking into consideration of their conversation.

“I’m telling you, I am amazing with the women” Charles claimed while Carlos gave him a non convinced look, not accepting his claim. A familiar figure caught Carlos’ eye ready to prove Charles wrong.

“What about y/n?” Carlos said, a bit quieter as the two turned analyzing her movements as she was adjusting the camera settings, ready to pack and leave. Charles’ gaze longed as he was about to reject the proposal before he heard the spaniard next to him say “Or you could always prove yourself wrong”

Charles competitive spirit flamed as he just nodded, turning his gaze away from the girl towards Carlos just nodding his head making the other just smirk, already loving the idea of how this would turn out.

It was well known in the garage that y/n didn’t like to be bothered, very quiet and reserved to others. Everyone at some point tried to be friendly towards her but her blunt responses would cause them to turn away, thinking she didn’t like them, didn’t like anyone.

So when Charles got up he automatically crossed off all of his starter questions knowing it would only end the conversation in 2 seconds. On the other end, the girl was exhausted, having dealt with trying to capture the best moments of the weekend with a constant headache and jetlag. But the job overweight the cons everytime, she was only ever quiet because she was too focused on her job, not allowing anyone to interrupt her during her time. Yes, she already knew most saw her as rude, but she didn’t mind that, at least they stopped pretending to be nice the first week.

“Capture all the good moments?” at first she thought Charles wasn’t speaking to her, still focused on tuning some camera settings until she heard him clear his throat in front of her finally making her look up. He waited for a proper response but all he received was a tight smile and a barely noticeable nod. The girl was about to gather her belongings, thinking the conversation was done but instead he kept talking to her, “Maybe I’ll get an early preview?”

“Yeah, maybe” she said simply, getting her tote bag and ready to walk out, but Charles didn’t seem to give up almost blocking her exit before she scurried next to him and squeezed outside.

“What are you doing later tonight?” he ran up to her, catching up to her fast pace clearly catching the hint but refusing to give up this early after Carlos doubted him. Y/n simply shrugged mumbling a soft “don’t know”

“What if-” he was interrupted with y/n turning and catching him off guard as she finally grew annoyed and said “What do you want, Charles? Seriously, do you find it entertaining to talk to someone who doesn’t want a conversation right now?”

Charles stood, stunned at her questions, finally gathering his thoughts after a couple of moments, commenting “This is the most you’ve spoken. Improvement” the corners of his lips twitch upwards as she sighed, growing more irritated that that was the portion he focused on more. Before he could say anything more on her ‘improvement’ she turned saying a simple “Goodnight” leaving Charles to think to himself while his teammate was trying not to laugh a few feet away seeing Charles’ failed attempt with front row seats.

A couple of days later

Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t hate the plan for today, it consisted of having to do a photoshoot with the two drivers. She was hoping to not have to interact with Charles but the way the past couple of days had gone he would definitely try something.

She had finally finished adjusting the lighting on the scene, seeing the two drivers walk up to their designated areas and before she could even wrap around the strap on my neck, she spotted Charles with messed up hair. The photographer looked around, hoping to find their hairdresser but found them nowhere near, with a heavy sigh she walked to Charles and trying to keep the most distance, leaned upwards and adjusted the strands that stuck out not daring to make eye contact or take a smell of his fresh cologne.

Charles tried his best to keep her in that same position, praying her gaze would lower to his own, thinking eye contact could help him with achieving this stupid bet he already began regretting and having doubts of his own, but he refused to accept defeat. Seeing her simply turn around after finishing made him internally frustrated, trying to come up with another idea while she was still here.

After the first set, Charles subconcecially ran his hands through his hair, not realizing he had messed it up until he heard her steps forward him replacing his hand with her own as she ran through it, trying her best to fix his mess. In that moment, Charles felt his own heart speed up, realizing just how pretty the girl was from up close, with a focused gaze having her nose scrunch before leaning back down. This time, she glanced back at him, making direct eye contact but stepped back forcing herself away from him.

“Fix your shirt Leclerc” she commented, waiting on him as she walked back to her original position. Charles looked down only seeing it tucked in slightly. His innocent smile grew with curious eyes as he asked

“Why not fix it for me?” he immediately noticed the way her cheeks got pink, whether that be from the bright sun or his question he doesn’t want the answer to, wanting his own delusions to be the true meaning but she just glared at him, ignoring how the sun somehow made his eyes look perfect at the current angle.

“That would be considered inappropriate” she said, looking back down, ready to take the next set right after he could fix it but she just looked up at him seeing his innocent smile. She turned to Carlos, asking him to fix it and he did with no obligation, she just smiled to herself afterwards before taking another couple of photos, checking them afterwards ready to take the final set at the next location.

The two followed the girl to the next location with a safe enough distance where she couldn’t hear their whispered conversation.

“No luck?” Carlos asked even though already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from him and finally admit to defeat but Charles only refused, saying “it’s only been a couple of days”

Carlos just hummed before the two finally caught back up to the girl, waiting for them by the two cars. She instructed them where to stand, giving them simple instructions thinking it shouldn’t be that difficult completely forgetting she was dealing with an irratating Charles today. He stood a couple of feet away from his position,

“Can you scoot to the left a little, Charles?” she asked, trying her best to appear polite and surprisingly he did as he was told with no obligation. She took the first picture, making sure there was no odd glare anywhere before finally getting back down to take more shots. Taking the final picture, she concluded the day with a simple ‘perfect’.

The girl was looking through them all, making some adjustments not appearing to notice the Monacan driver walking up to her, only managing to spook her with a simple greeting, only earning a glare right after.

"Do you need something else" she asked, putting her camera down to face him and while the gesture may have meant little to the photographer it meant an advancement to Charles, making eye contact was his specialty.

"Just making sure I look good" he said with his charming smile, she only nodded mumbling a barely audible "You always do" but Charles had heard, not so clear but he could make up the mumble, making his smirk grow just by a millimeter.

"Is it too late for you to fix my hair" he asked with a hint of mischief in his tone but she only stared blankly, not the slightest amused, ready to walk away from the conversation but he grasped her wrist before she could take a step holding her back, sending a strange sensation to both.

"Terrble joke" he apoligized, knowing he was giving her a hard time. He sighed, debating the options before finally admitting, "Truth is, me and Carlos had this bet going on for the past couple of days, now thinking about it, it was stupid. I won’t bother you again, just please don’t hate me"

"I already knew" she shrugged not appearing the slightest suuprised meanwhile Charles nearly had his whole jaw agape of the reveal. "I was waiting for when you would tell me"

"You knew? Since when?" he didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or stupid. Definetly both.

"The first day" she said ready turn now before saying "Don’t worry, I could never hate the prettiest driver"

The next day had been quite normal, considering Charles stopped bothering the girl, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. The girl he couldn’t get, had started off as a bet where he would have her fall for him, turned to him falling for her.

“Hey, Charles?” Her voice made his heart spike up, turning to see her with a small smile. “Mind helping me with something?”

He nodded, waiting for her request as she fiddled with her ear, taking out a single earring.

“I lost my earring earlier, mind helping me look of it?” he noticed her earring, one similar to another he had spotted not too far, a golden stud with diamond specs. He just nodded, observing it in her hand before replying with a simple sure. Without saying much else, he headed to the last place he saw it last with the girl trailing behind him.

“I think I saw it earlier around here” he informed, starting the search with her. “I’ve never seen you wear jewelry before” he attempted to make a conversation and while the girl hesitated, she decided to reply with interest, “I don’t. Normally I am not allowed to, I only wear them on formal occasions really. But the one time I tried wearing it, i seemed to have lost it”

Charles only chuckled, searching the area with more detail. “It sure looks pretty, gift, I assume?” he wanted the conversation to last a lifetime, hearing her voice made him both comfortable and on suspense.

“Yeah, my mother gave it to me. The only gift she gave me and I’ve lost it” her voice filled with sorrow and Charles immedietly filled terrible, ready to apoligize for even bringing it up but all she gave him was a reassuring smile, “It’s okay, I just need to find it is all”

The search continued, lasting an hour before the girl gave a tired sigh, feeling her eyes trickled with water but she refused to cry, at least not in front of someone. She was ready to give up, clinging onto the one that she hasn’t lost yet hoping to anyone that could hear to allow her to find the gift. Meanwhile, Charles refused to give up not needing her frowned expression to be the appearance she gives him everyday because he couldn’t find her precious item. Not too long afterward, he finally spotted it, underneath a rug, he immediately grasped it letting out a soft yell, enough for her to hear him

“Found it!” immediately, she went to him observing the earring before confirming it and thanking him, excitement struck her as she leaped forward grabbing the sides of his face pushing her lips to his.

Charles arms fell to his sides, still needing time to react before closing her in his embrace wanting to deepen the kiss, eager for more, still ensuring to keep grasp of the earring. The kiss only lasted a minute before the girl finally brought herself back, bringing her hands to her sides, no longer looking at the earring but needing a positive reaction from the driver she as well was having a headache about the past couple of days.

Seeing no reaction, she immediately grasped the earring thanking him silently but before she could turn away, he grabbed the sides of her face pulling her back in for another taste, she immediately melted in his arms, almost dropping the earring. After the two separated, their eyes wouldnt dare leave each other for a second, Charles lifting a corner of his mouth, feeling all types of adrenaline while the girl in his arms tried her best to calm down not sure if she was liking the rapid pace her heart was going.

“Hope this isn’t part of your plan Leclerc” was all she could let out, with a shaky breath. Charles only smiled, reassuring her

“I lost the minute I started falling”

#charles leclerc #f1 #f1 x you #f1 reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #reader insert #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #fluff

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vilevenom · 1 month

Text

This bad boy is dedicated to @em-doods, because her adorable sketches of Hickory and John Dory meandering through the woods 100% are the reason I wrote this. (She also helped push me through a rather rough patch I had while writing the first bit, so a super extra special thank you there!!)

If given the chance I will write Hickory and John Dory getting together in every conceivable fashion. In this fic, they go camping.

Enjoy!!

"I've never been campin'."

"What?!" John stared wide eyed at Hickory, who looked somewhat bashful at his admittance.

"Well, I mean…I've been campin', but not, y'know, camping," Hickory unhelpfully tried to clarify while John Dory continued to stare at him in disbelief. He sighed, scratching at his cheek as he tried to think of a way to better explain himself. "Dickory an' I would need to camp out once in a blue moon, y'know, when we were out on a hunt. But it was never the kinda campin' where you get to roast marshtatoes or go swimmin'. It was just basic survival."

"Well, I can't let that stand," John said, smacking the table they were sat at with gusto, making Hickory jump. "No way. Camping, proper camping, is one of the best experiences in the world! I don't think I can let you go another second without experiencing the wonders of camping."

And that was how Hickory found himself staring out Rhonda's front window as John drove her into wilderness unlike any he'd seen before. The troll kingdoms were beautiful and unique in their own ways, but this place was truly something else. Rhonda ducked under gnarled branches and crawled through twisting vines, with John confidently at her helm, a broad smile on his face as he described to Hickory where he was taking them. The Neverglade trail, apparently, had all of the best camping spots, and he knew just the one that Hickory would enjoy.

Hickory felt like he was going to be sick, though he plastered a pleasant smile onto his face and nodded along every time John glanced at him while he excitedly spoke about where they were headed. It wasn't that Hickory didn't want to go camping with John. Oh, no. It was the exact opposite, really. He'd been looking forward to this trip since John had declared they were going a few days prior. It was the fact that it was just the two of them. Alone. Together. It made Hickory's heart jump into his throat and his palms sweat.

Thinking back on it, Hickory came to realize that he and John Dory had only really known each other for a handful of months. They'd met when Hickory had gone to Pop Village with the intention of visiting Poppy and Branch, only to find the royal couple surrounded by a group of trolls quickly revealed to be their siblings. Swiftly, Hickory had been introduced to all of Branch's brothers, and Poppy's sister, all while beginning to feel a touch overwhelmed by the new mix of personalities. Not quite sure what to say or how to act, Hickory began to flounder, when one of Branch's brothers had tugged him aside with an easy smile.

"We're a lot, huh?"

"I mean, I dunno if I'd say that, exactly," Hickory had started to demure, only to grunt in surprise as John Dory slapped a hand to his back with a guffaw.

"You don't need to be shy, man. We all know we're a lot. Big personalities," John had reassured, sliding his hand up to rest on Hickory's shoulder. "I know you're here to visit with Branch, but how about we get out of here? I happen to know that everyone else will be buggering off here pretty soon, so you'll have a chance for some one on one time with him and Poppy, but probably not for a couple hours. You can show me around town? I assume you've been here before. I've been here for a whopping three days, so I have no idea where anything is."

Hickory hadn't even realized his shoulders had been tense until they began to relax as John spoke to him. He let a slight smile curl his lips and gave a little nod. "Yeah. I can do that," he easily agreed, tucking his thumbs into his belt loops as they began to walk away from the cluster of trolls.

They'd spent the next couple of hours getting to know each other, and, quite frankly, Hickory couldn't help but to be charmed. John Dory was brash and confident in a way that made him laugh, but was also, somehow surprisingly, incredibly kindhearted.

As they were walking through town, a couple of young trollings had dashed in front of them, only for one to trip and fall directly in front of John Dory. Hickory had fully expected John to, perhaps, help the trolling up and for them to continue on their way, but instead he'd crouched down to the child's level to make sure they were okay. When it was revealed that the trolling had a scrape on their knee, John dug into his hair, pulled out a band-aid, and applied it to the injury without batting an eye. Hickory then watched in amusement as John scooped the kid up into his arms and spun around while theatrically wondering where the trolling's friend could have gone. They, of course, had been right behind John, giggling manically as the teal troll continued to spin and pretend he couldn't see them. Finally, he placed the injured child down, and the two all but begged John to go play with them.

"Sorry, I can't. See this guy behind me," John thrust his thumb over his shoulder towards Hickory, who gave them a little wave "He's my tour guide. And I can't just let him go on touring by himself."

The children whined at him while Hickory chuckled at their antics, but John ultimately encouraged them to continue on with their game, which they reluctantly did when it became obvious that John was just this side of too stubborn for them to persuade.

"That was mighty kind of you," Hickory hummed as they began to walk through the village again.

"Hm? Was it? I dunno," John said with a self depreciating little laugh and a shrug of his shoulders, "Just seemed natural to me. But, that probably comes from being the oldest of five. Lots of bumps and scrapes to take care of when they come running to you for comfort."

Hickory decided to side-step the comment about John's brothers going to him, rather than their parents. He was sure there was a story there, but it sounded like one for another time. "So…Yer the oldest brother, huh?"

John snorted, shoving Hickory playfully with an sheepish grin. "Yes. What's it to ya?"

"Not much. Just didn't much figure Branch havin' a silver fox for a siblin'."

"Silver-?! I am NOT that old. Do you see any grey hair here?!" John huffed, puffing out his chest and pulled his goggles up to show off his very teal roots, earning a laugh from Hickory. "If you must know, Branch is about fourteen years younger than me. The rest are all in between."

"Ah, can't remember with yer ancient brain? Ya need help rememberin', old man? I can always go find one of yer brothers, if ya need assistance."

"That is just uncalled for," John sniffed, looking affronted. Hickory worried for a moment that he'd taken a step too far in his teasing, when John snorted and deflated a bit. "I am getting old, aren't I?"

Hickory clicked his tongue, quickly realizing he had hit a nerve, but not the one he'd thought. "John, if I may, an' if my math is right, yer only thirty-eight. That ain't that old," Hickory reassured, offering a warm smile to the teal troll, "Yer only a few years older than I am, an' I certainly ain't old."

"Oh, yeah? And how old is the whipper snapper?" John joked, obviously lightened a bit by Hickory's reassurance.

"Thirty-two."

"Ah, you're between Clay and Floyd," John hummed, though the comment was obviously directed more towards himself.

Their conversation ebbed and flowed easily as they continued to walk through the village, Hickory occasionally pointing out landmarks or buildings he knew, while John Dory made comments here and there about how different the village was from the tree he's grown up in. He also made a point to let Hickory know that he'd obviously need to get another tour through town, what with his poor old memory not being quite what it used to be. Hickory was fairly certain he'd never had such entertaining conversation with another troll.

Eventually, they wandered back to Branch's bunker, where John bid Hickory adieu with a rather ridiculous and dramatic bow before going on his way, while Hickory descended into the bunker to have his intended visit with Branch and Poppy.

Their catching up truthfully didn't get very far before the topic of the royal couple's recent adventure and estranged siblings came up, and Hickory mindlessly blurted out, "So…what's yer brother like?"

"…which one?" Branch said with a snort, arching an eyebrow at the ex-bounty hunter.

"John Dory."

Branch seemed to think for a moment, while Poppy gave Hickory an awkward smile. "He's an obnoxious, self-centered know-it-all."

Hickory blinked, quite taken aback by Branch's opinion of his brother. "Really? I never woulda guessed that by the way he was actin' today…"

"Well, to be honest, he may be my brother, but I don't really know him that well. We haven't seen each other in twenty years, but that's the impression I've gotten of him so far," Branch said with a quiet sigh. "He'll be staying in Pop Village for a while, since Floyd is recovering. Maybe if I give him some time, my opinion will change? But, that's what I've got for now."

Hickory hummed thoughtfully, and decided he would give it some time, as well. He bounced back and forth between Lonesome Flats and Pop Village over the next few months, and never once did John Dory give Hickory the impression of being self-centered, nor did he ever become obnoxious. In fact, he continued to prove the exact opposite. Nearly every time Hickory visited, John was with Branch, Floyd, or both, supporting his younger brothers in whatever they might need. And whenever Hickory made himself known, John offered to make himself scarce so Hickory could visit with Branch unimpeded. Eventually, however, Hickory had to reveal that he'd been intending to visit John the entire time, and that had been something of an awkward chat in and of itself. The sheer surprise that had shown on John's face when Hickory admitted that he wanted to spend more time with John had certainly made his heart twist in an unexpected way.

In the end, the longer Hickory spent with John Dory, the more he seemed to develop a rather inconvenient crush on the teal troll. Especially when he did things as sweet and thoughtful as remembering Hickory had casually mentioned once that he had a soft spot for a particular cupcake made by one particular stand in the market, but he was never early enough to get one. John had presented one to Hickory with a proud little grin on his face the next time the country troll visited. Or the way he obviously thought about Hickory even when they weren't together, as on one occasion when he'd trotted up to Hickory and presented him with a rather fancy looking silver belt buckle emblazoned with intricate little flower patterns. He'd said he'd picked it up in his travels and was going to toss it away, but perhaps Hickory would like it, instead?

Now, most trolls would probably consider such actions to be relatively basic indications of friendship. However, Hickory had had so few friends, or trolls who cared for him (and not a character he and his brother created) that he couldn't help but feel special when John gave him his undivided attention. And he had a sneaking suspicion that John Dory was much the same.

He mentioned the incidents to Poppy and Branch the next time he sat down with them to chat, the former of whom cooed happily at the revelation, while the later gagged quietly.

"I…I think he's got my heart all a flutter. What do I do?" Hickory asked, head in his hands where he sat at Branch's kitchen table. He felt like a little kid, telling his friends about a crush he had on some troll well out of his league. He felt especially foolish that said friend was his crushes younger brother, who was watching him with a wrinkled nose.

"Why are you asking me? At this point, I'm pretty convinced that you know JD better than I do," Branch said with a slight grimace.

"Oh, that's so cute," Poppy gushed, waving her hands at Hickory as he glanced up at her with a long suffering sigh. "Don't give me that look. It is! I've seen you two walking around town together."

"We certainly get along like a house on fire, but I don't know what to do. I haven't done this in a while. Least, not properly," Hickory sighed, slumping onto the table they were sat around.

"I don't know, man. Talk to him about camping? That seems to be one of his favorite things," Branch offered with a shrug. "Maybe that'll help lead the conversation into something?"

And Hickory had, which did indeed lead to this whole escapade in the first place. Perhaps it would allow him the opportunity to talk to the teal troll about his feelings. If he could work up the courage to do so, that is. Especially with the discouraging little voice in the back of his head that kept telling him that if the conversation went south, he was either going to be left in the wilderness on his own, or have a very awkward trip back to Pop Village.

"How much further are we gonna haveta go to get to this mysterious campin' spot a' yers?" Hickory asked, arching an eyebrow as John turned Rhonda down yet another trail.

"Oh, not too much further, I don't think," John hummed with a smile, shooting Hickory a wink that made the ex-bounty hunter need to immediately step away to try and hide the blush that bloomed across his cheeks.

They drove in relative silence for a few more minutes, before John finally pulled Rhonda over, and Hickory managed to calm himself down enough that his cheeks were no longer enflamed.

"Here we are!" John declared, as he spun the drivers seat around to grin widely at Hickory, who offered a slightly mollified one of his own. "Now, grab your gear, we've got a bit of a hike."

"Wait, this isn't where we're campin'?" Hickory asked, watching John pull an overstuffed backpack with a sleeping roll tied to it from atop his loft bed.

"What? No, of course not. You can't get a full and proper camping experience if we're staying in Rhonda. That's, like…'glamping', or whatever. No, if you want a proper camping trip, we gotta hike a bit further in and set up tents!" John exclaimed excitedly, pulling the straps of his bag over his shoulders.

"If ya say so," Hickory said with an awkward chuckle, grabbing his much smaller bag and sleeping roll from where he'd stashed them and following John out of Rhonda.

"Now, you be a good girl," John cooed at Rhonda as Hickory stepped up behind him, "There are lots of berry bushes here, so there's loads to eat. You make sure you're back here in a couple of days, okay?" Hickory watched in amusement as John half wrapped himself around the armadillo bus's face in the closest approximation of a hug as he could get as she churred at him happily.

"Y'sure it's okay t' just leave her here?" Hickory asked as they began to walk away, the ex-bounty hunter shooting Rhonda furtive glances the further away from her they got.

"Oh, yeah. She's a good girl. Even if she's not there when we get back, she usually comes when I call, or we'll just need to wait a day or two when we get back," John reassured, as Hickory watched the energetic bus dart off into some bushes.

"…right."

And so on they went, Hickory diligently following along behind John, until he inevitably got distracted by the massive trees and flora they were hiking past. To the rather unfortunate point where John disappeared beyond a bend before Hickory had even realized he'd been left behind.

"Hey, John, have ya ever-" he'd begun as he turned from staring at a large, drooping orange flower, only to find himself completely alone. "…John?" Hickory tentatively took a few steps forward, glancing this way and that to see if he could spot the teal troll, without luck. "Sugar," he grumbled to himself, unsure if he should proceed forward, or wait to see if John would notice his absence and turn back around to find him.

Just as he turned to sit himself beneath the flower he'd gotten distracted by, a rustling in the bush startled him into pulling a knife from his pocket and brandishing it with a snarl on his face. John had warned him, at one point on their drive here, that wild critters of all shapes and sizes roamed the Neverglades, and that he should be wary of being snuck up on, lest he be eaten. John had said it like it was a joke, but Hickory had noticed the scars John's fur hadn't quite fully grown over. He had no doubt there were plenty of critters who would like nothing more than to get a taste of troll out here, and he was not eager to give them said taste.

So, he stood his ground and waited, until finally John Dory came stumbling out of the brush, leg half tangled in a bramble.

"There you are!" John laughed, shaking the bramble off his leg as Hickory quickly tucked his knife back away, "I turned around to point out some funky looking moss and you were gone."

"Sorry 'bout that. Got caught up admirin' this here flower," Hickory admitted abashedly, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder.

"No worries, man! Just gotta make sure I keep a better eye on you," John chuckled, reaching out and unexpectedly taking Hickory's hand. The country troll felt his cheeks heat up, but luckily John had turned to start tugging him along down the trail, and so missed it entirely. "Don't want you getting lost on me!"

"No, no. Don't wanna get lost," Hickory muttered mostly to himself, his gaze stuck pretty strictly on their clasped hands now, rather than the gorgeous scenery they were walking past. Occasionally John would point something out to Hickory, which would pull the country trolls gaze up for a short period of time, before inevitably trailing back down to their hands.

John didn't let go until they reached a rocky path that lead up what most creatures would probably consider a small foot hill, but was nearly the equivalent of a mountain to the two trolls. The path wound up along the side of the hill, and was only just wide enough for them to walk up one at a time. Hickory did his best to hide his disappointment as John let him go and began to trek up the hillside.

"C'mon! If we're where I think we are, there's a great spot at the top of the hill where we can stop and have lunch," John said, glancing back at Hickory with a bright grin.

"Alright, I'mma comin'," Hickory chuckled, shifting the pack on his shoulders and following along after John.

The two managed to make it about halfway up the hill when they came across a slightly wider spot on the trail, overlooking a rather picturesque little area of the Neverglades.

"Too bad there's not more of a plateau here," John lamented as Hickory stopped next to him, "This would be a great spot to stop for lunch."

"Yeah. S'real pretty," Hickory hummed, turning to look out at the view.

"Wish I'd brought my camera," John added with a despondent sigh, "But I left it in Rhonda."

"Well, ain't that just lucky for you, then," Hickory said with a smile, reaching over his shoulder into his pack, "Because I just so happen to have brought one along." He pulled a little instant camera out of his bag and handed it to John, who snatched it eagerly.

"Awesome! Say cheese," John said with a grin, holding the camera out in front of the two and snapping a photo. Hickory blinked at the flash that went off, trying to get rid of the little flare in his vision.

"Some warnin' woulda been nice," he groused quietly, rubbing at his eyes.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have gotten such a great candid shot," John hummed, pulling the photo free of the camera and waving it slightly. He snorted once the image developed, holding it out to Hickory. "See? Perfect moment."

Hickory wrinkled his nose at the photo, which showed a happily grinning John and Hickory looking like he was, perhaps, about to sneeze. "Yeah. Real flatterin'," he muttered, reaching for the photo.

"Hey now, nuh-uh," John said quickly, pulling the photo back to hold against his chest, before quickly stuffing it into his hair, "This one's mine."

"Aw, come on, now," Hickory grumped, reaching for John's hair, "We can take a better one. You don't need t' keep that."

"No," John quickly took a step back, while shoving the camera into his hair as well, "I like it. It's mine, and you can't have it."

"Don't be childish, John," Hickory sighed, reaching for the teal trolls hair again as John quickly took another step back and snorted.

"Have you met me? I'm the least childish troll out there."

"Mhmm, you keep tellin' yerself that," Hickory chuckled, taking another step after John, only for both of them to freeze at a rather ominous cracking sound that emanated around them. "What was-" Hickory barely managed to get the words out, before he felt his foot beginning to sink as the path beneath him began to give way, and the sound of tumbling rocks hit his ears.

"Hickory!"

The ex-bounty hunter gasped as his footing slipped, quickly scrambling for John's reaching hands. The teal troll had his hair wrapped around some roots that were sticking out of the side of the hill, anchoring him as he grabbed for Hickory as he began to fall.

"I gotcha, I gotcha," John chanted as Hickory managed to grab hold of him, using his hair to pull them both away from the crumbling section of path. Once they were both on a more stable spot, Hickory opened his eyes, which he hadn't even realized he'd clenched shut, to find himself practically nose to nose with John Dory, both of them panting like they'd just run a mile.

"You okay?" John quietly asked after a beat, grip still tight on Hickory as he stared up at him.

"Bit shaken up, but I think I'll be right as rain here right quick," Hickory murmured back, glad that the adrenaline of his near death experience and lack of breath were more than enough excuse for how dark his cheeks must be from their proximity. If he just moved his head ever so slightly, he could kiss John Dory right then and there.

"Good," John's voice shattered Hickory's momentary daydream, a short pat on his shoulder telling Hickory to move away. Which he did, taking a quick step back to give John space. "I think we're close to the top now. I'd definitely say we earned our lunch."

Hickory let out a little laugh, hoping it didn't come off as nervous or anxious. "Well, you certainly did," he said, following after John, "All I did was nearly fall down the hill."

"Yeah, but you didn't," John said, glancing briefly back at Hickory, "Doesn't that also deserve celebration?"

Hickory smiled to himself as he followed after John, mentally telling his heart to shut up as it did a little summersault in his chest at John's words.

They reached the summit of the hill rather quickly after that, not stopping until they knew they were on completely stable ground, neither wanting to risk a repeat incident.

"Here we go," John sighed as they reached the top, swinging his bag off his back, "This looks like a great spot to stop for a bit."

Hickory let out a little whistle as he also set his bag on the ground, turning in a small circle to take in the views. "It's a mighty nice spot, that's for certain," he hummed, only turning back to John when he heard the tell-tale click of his camera. He snorted a quiet laugh, arching an eyebrow at John as he pulled the photo from the camera and began to wave it in the air. "Whatcha got there?"

"Memories," John stated, a little smile curling his lips as the photo developed.

Hickory felt his heart skip a beat at the look on John's face, before he cleared his throat and stepped over to take a look at the snap shot. It was a bit of an odd angle, obviously taken hastily while Hickory had his back turned, but it was a nice photo all the same. The rolling hills and vast trails stretching out into the distance could be easily seen just past Hickory's shoulder.

"S'not a bad shot," the ex-bounty hunter hummed, reaching for the photo, only to find it disappearing into John's hair to join the previous one.

"Sure is," John said with a cheeky grin, before turning to start pulling a blanket and some food from his bag.

"Cheeky," Hickory laughed, joining John on the blanket once he had it all rolled out.

They ate in relative silence for a bit, simply enjoying each others company and the view, until the camera came back out of John's hair.

"I regret givin' that thing to ya," Hickory snorted after John snapped a photo of him while he was about to take a bite of his sandwich.

"You can't blame me for wanting to document your first camping trip," John said, sticking his tongue out at Hickory, who simply rolled his eyes and continued to eat, "It's a big deal, y'know. You're trying to start fresh, try new things, be a different troll from who you once were. Taking these baby steps, even just going on a camping trip for fun, it's a lot. You said it's something you've never done before, right? You should have something to remember it by."

Hickory stared at John for a long moment, a slow smile working its way across his face. "Why, that's real sweet of you, Johnny." His smile widened into a cheshire grin as as he watched John's cheeks darken at his comment.

"Shut up," John grunted, a smile betraying his grumpy tone as he flicked a small rock at Hickory, who easily dodged it with a laugh.

They finished up their meal while chatting amicably about the trail thus far, with John animatedly regaling Hickory with stories about the first time he came up this way, long before he'd had Rhonda. He admitted it was part of the reason he'd wanted to bring Hickory to this particular spot, as it held a certain amount of nostalgia for him, since it'd been one of the first spots he'd stopped while exploring the trails.

"Ya certainly do got a lot of good memories out here, dontcha?" Hickory hummed as they packed up their bags, a soft little smile on his face as he listened to John hum to himself while retying his bag shut.

"Sure do," John chirped, before pulling the camera from his hair again and walking over to Hickory.

"Aw, what now?" Hickory snorted, somewhat wary of the camera, now that he knew John was going to take every opportunity he could to snap unflattering photos of him.

"Nothing. Come here," John said, turning Hickory so his back was to the view. He opened his mouth to protest as John stole his cowboy hat and set it aside, only to snap it closed as John wrapped an arm around his shoulder and tugged him down into his shoulder. "There. Plenty of warning this time," John chuckled, cheek practically pressed to Hickory's, "Say 'cheese'!" He held the camera up and the flash went off. Hickory blinked to get ride of the afterimage, rubbing at his eye in mild irritation as John pulled the photo from the camera. "Nice," the teal troll hummed, a warm smile curling his lips. After a moment he offered it to Hickory. "You can have this one, if you want."

Hickory took the photo with mild suspicion, knowing full well the caliber of photo John had been taking thus far, only to be pleasantly surprised by what he saw. John was grinning widely in the photo, his arm blocking the lower left corner of the frame, while Hickory looked a little dazed, with a slightly crooked smile on his own face, and his cheek squished against John's. In the background over John's shoulder the spectacular view from the top of the hill could be seen, with the sunlight speckled across the trees at just the right angle.

Hickory was pulled from his admiration of the photo by John chuckling practically in his ear, just over his shoulder, pack already strapped to his back and bouncing on his toes. "You struck speechless by my excellent photography skills?"

"Somethin' like that," Hickory said with a quiet laugh, carefully tucking the photo into the inside pocket of his vest before scooping his hat up from where John had set it and slinging his pack over his shoulder. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

The trek down from the hilltop was far less perilous than the trip up had been. To Hickory's great disappointment, John did not take his hand again once they'd reached the bottom, and in what felt like no time at all, John lead them to what he declared would be their camp site. It was a rather sizeable clearing, with bushes and tall grass most of the way around it, with only two trails leading away from it, aside from the one they'd come down to reach it. John explained that one lead to a little lake they could go swimming in, while the other lead further into the Neverglades.

"Alright," John declared, dropping his pack onto the ground with a thump, "Did you bring a tent?"

Hickory flushed, setting his own bag down more gingerly. "'Fraid not. Not gonna lie, I thought we'd be stayin' with Rhonda," the country troll admitted, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "But, it wouldn't be the first time I've slept under the stars, so I'll be just fine."

John scoffed, rolling his eyes as he began to unpack his bag, tossing tent pegs and ropes onto the ground in front of him. "Don't be ridiculous. My tent is plenty big enough for two. Besides, you never know what critter might come across camp in the middle of the night. A tent gives us at least a bit of cover."

"Ah," Hickory's brain froze for a moment, the idea of being tucked up close to John in a tent sending a little shiver down his spine. "Uh, yeah," he cleared his throat, ducking his head so the brim of his hat would hopefully hide the blush that was yet again creeping across his cheeks, "Yeah, that'd be right as rain."

"Good," John grunted, pulling folded up tent poles from his bag, "Well, since that's settled, how about you start setting up a spot for the fire while I put up the tent?"

"Sure thing," Hickory said with a quick nod, turning to wander around the camp site to pick up some stones to mark a space for a small fire pit. He paused and glanced up when he heard the soft, tell-tale sound of a pile of fabric hitting the ground, fully expecting John to have tossed the tent from his bag, ready to offer his help once again, only to bite his tongue at the realization that it was his jacket that John had tossed aside. The teal troll was busy setting up the tent poles, a little frown of concentration on his face while he worked, completely unaware of Hickory staring at him from across the clearing. "Sugar," Hickory breathed, jerking into motion quickly as John glanced at him from where he was working.

"Hey, how about, after this, we go for a swim."

"A swim?" Hickory echoed, tucking a rock into the small collection in his arm while turning to arch an eyebrow at John, only to nearly drop them all at being presented with John leaning against one of the erected tent poles, a little smirk on his face and sweat beading on his brow.

"Yeah! It's kinda humid today, and setting up this tent is making me sweaty. I think a pre-dinner swim would be nice, don't you?" John said with a little laugh, shoving himself off the pole to start gathering the fabric of the tent up from the ground. "Work up a bit of an appetite before we eat."

Hickory swallowed thickly as John tossed the fabric over the tent frame he'd set up, his brain taking a moment to catch up to what was being said to him. "Oh! Yeah! Yeah, that'd be a right fine idea," he agreed, shaking his head quickly to try and get his mind off of the sweaty, half naked troll across from him. "C'mon, Hickory. Get yer act together," he grumbled to himself, walking to a spot he thought would be good for the fire and dropping his collection of rocks.

"I think you might be too close to the tents."

"Sugar, honey an' iced tea!" Hickory exclaimed, whipping his head in John Dory's direction, who grinned sheepishly at him.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to catch you off guard. What's got your head in the clouds, anyway?" John asked, propping his hands on his hips and tilting his head at Hickory, reminding the country troll of a particularly adorable cuddle pup.

"Ah, y'know, just , uh, doin' a mental checklist. Tryin' to remember if I brought my swim gear," Hickory offered with an awkward little laugh. "Sorry. What were ya sayin'?"

"Even if you forgot yours, you can always borrow mine. I don't mind swimming in my regular shorts," John offered with an easy smile, "And I was just saying that I think where you're setting up the fire might be too close to the tents."

Hickory looked between where John had most of the tent set up, barring the tent pegs being hammered into the ground, and the pile of rocks he'd dropped on the ground to find that he was, indeed, just a bit too close. One good breeze in the wrong direction could carry embers onto the fabric. "Oh. Beggin' yer pardon," the country troll apologized quickly, bending to pick the rocks back up, "I really was too lost in my own head just then, wasn't I?"

"Hey, happens to the best of us," John laughed, shrugging a bit. "Just move it a bit over there," he gestured vaguely away from the tent, "And it should be fine. I think I saw a decently sized stick over there, too. We can move it into the clearing to sit on later, by the fire."

Hickory nodded, dropping his rocks where John had gestured. "This whole campin' for fun thing is turnin' out to be a lot like campin' for survival," he noted, arching an amused eyebrow at John who snorted and trotted back over to the tent.

"Set up is always a pain. Same with take down. But all of the in between is great," John shot Hickory a charming smile, completely unaware of how it made the ex-bunty hunters heart flutter, before crouching down to hammer in the tent pegs. "Just you wait!"

"Sounds like a plan," Hickory muttered, though he very much doubted he was heard over the sound of the hammer. Which was probably for the best, as he had to shake himself out of staring after the teal troll once again.

In relative short order, Hickory set up his little circle of rocks while John finished up with the tent pegs. He then shoved his way through the brush surrounding the clearing to see about gathering up some wood for the fire they would be building when they got back from swimming. He deposited his selection of twigs, sticks and bark next to his rock circle once he figured he had enough for the night, just as John finished tying off a large tarp above where he'd finished setting up the tent.

"Y'all set?" Hickory asked, trotting up to John as the teal troll wiped his brow with the back of his hand, dislodging his goggles so they sat askew on his head.

"I think so. We're looking pretty good!" John chirped, grinning up at Hickory.

"I'd say so," Hickory agreed easily with a quiet little laugh, reaching out to fix John's crooked goggles. John looked startled by the gesture, Hickory barely catching a glimpse of a dark flush creeping over John's cheeks before the teal troll turned away from him once his hands dropped away. He took a quick step back, watching as John swiftly moved across the campsite to dig into his bag. Intrigued by the reaction, Hickory made a mental note about it for later.

"Did you bring your trunks?" John's voice snapped Hickory back to reality.

"Pretty sure," Hickory hummed, shuffling over to his bag to dig into it and pull out his swim shorts.

"Great! Then get changed, and we'll head down to the water," John said, staring at Hickory expectantly.

Hickory stared right back, slowly arching an eyebrow at the teal troll. "You gonna stare at me the whole time I'm changin', or just for the first little bit?" He snorted quietly as John's face lit up as he turned on his heel to face away from Hickory. The ex-bounty hunter shook his head with a quiet laugh, setting his hat aside and quickly changing into his swim trunks. He then dug into his bag and pulled out the beach towel he'd packed, draping it over his shoulders as he cleared his throat. "All set. You gonna change, too?"

"Nah," John hummed, glancing at Hickory over his shoulder, though he did pull off his goggles and glove to toss them into the tent. "I'm just gonna go as is. These shorts are already sweaty and dirty, may as well sorta wash 'em by swimming with them on."

"All right," Hickory chuckled, stepping up next to John, "Lead the way, then."

And so John did, after grabbing his own towel from his belongings. The path down to the lake was relatively short and straight forward, but John seemed to take pride in leading Hickory around, so he diligently followed along with an indulgent smile on his face. The lake itself was relatively small, as John had already mentioned, but that didn't make it any less picturesque than the rest of the Neverglades had been thus far. The shores were soft slopes of jutting rock and densely packed dirt, surrounded by drooping trees with their branches and leaves barely grazing the water, causing little ripples every time the wind blew. Early evening sunlight was dappled across the surface of the lake, making it sparkle.

"My," Hickory breathed, almost feeling like he shouldn't be there. Like he was intruding on sacred ground.

"It's real pretty, isn't it?" John hummed quietly next to him, "Almost makes you not want to swim."

Hickory opened his mouth to agree with the sentiment, only to jump slightly as John let out a whoop of a shout while tossing his towel aside, before running towards the water. Hickory couldn't contain his laughter as John jumped from the shore as he reached the waters edge, canon balling into the lake with a large splash.

"Well, that's one way to do it, I s'pose," Hickory chuckled to himself, tossing his towel next to John's. He let out a shout of his own once John surfaced further out into the lake, running and tossing himself into the water with gusto. He surfaced to the sound of John's laughter, followed shortly by a splash of water to the face. "Hey now," he laughed, returning the splash blindly, figuring he'd hit his target based on the sound of John sputtering. He wiped water from his face and grinned at finding John coughing and blinking water from his eyes. "That's what ya get for tryin' a sneak attack," Hickory stated, self satisfied smirk on his face.

"I'll show you sneak attack," John grumbled to himself, before launching himself through the water at Hickory with a yell. Hickory let out a startled shout in response, flailing rather uselessly in the water before John tackled him around the chest and dragged him under the surface.

The two tussled in the water like that for some time, with John using any means necessary to try and catch Hickory off guard as they swam back and forth across the lake, waging war with sweeping splashes. Hickory finally called it quits when John tried to use a handful of slimy lake weeds to retaliate against Hickory for managing to dunk him underwater.

"All right, I'm think I'm done," the country troll sighed, pulling an especially long piece of weed from his hair and tossing it aside.

"Aww, but we haven't even been out here that long," John practically pouted, earning a fond smile form Hickory.

"Never said we had to go back. Just that I think the war is over," Hickory hummed, kicking his feet off the bottom of the lake to float on his back. He watched John continue to pout for a minute out of the corner of his eye, before the teal troll began to swim towards the shore. "Where are ya goin'?" he called, turning to tread water with a small frown on his face.

"If you're done," John called back, walking up onto the shore, running fingers through his water logged locks, "I'm gonna work on my canon balls."

Hickory was quite certain that John had no idea the kind of sight he made as he trotted along the lakeside, looking for a good spot to use as a pseudo-diving board. He kept absently running his fingers though his hair, which supplied a steady supply of water droplets that cascaded down over his torso, which Hickory had to fight with every fiber of his being not to watch as they made their way down to the ground. The country troll had never been so happy to be submerged in water as he was just then, letting himself sink so his nose was barely above the surface as he watched John Dory pause at a particularly large rock and nod to himself. The teal troll climbed up onto it and shot Hickory a winning grin once he was at the top, waving enthusiastically, before letting out a bellow and tossing himself into the water. He was completely, stupidly endearing and Hickory knew that if he didn't say something by the end of this trip, he might just go insane.

John continued his cycle of climbing out of the water and jumping enthusiastically back in for some time, Hickory not even noticing that the sun had began to set with how enraptured he was with watching. That was, until the teal troll finally scooped his towel up from the ground instead of running off to his chosen diving rock.

"Hey, it's getting late," John called out to him, gesturing that he should swim to shore, "We should probably go get started on the fire and make some dinner."

"Oh! Right. Dinner," Hickory muttered to himself, before he began to swim back to shore, shivering as he climbed out of the water and a cool breeze swept across the lake.

"C'mon. We'll get a nice big fire going, and get you toasty warm," John said with an easy smile, handing Hickory his towel.

Hickory bit his tongue to keep himself from saying something stupid like 'Or you could warm me up', and instead murmured a quiet thanks as he took his towel and rubbed at his sopping hair.

"I brought some classic camping food," John hummed as he began to lead the way back up to their campsite, Hickory hot on his heels, "Hotdogs to roast over the fire, and marshtatoes for later!"

"Sounds swell," Hickory said with a little nod, draping his towel over his shoulders as they reached the campsite. "By the by, where did ya say that stick was? The one we could use as a bench near the fire?"

"Right! We should move that first," John said as he snapped his fingers, and pointed towards a patch of grass near the tent.

Moving the stick was only a small struggle when they discovered it was actually much larger than they had anticipated, as part of it was buried in the dirt. Luckily, what Hickory lacked in tenting supplies, he made up for in random assorted other items that John, apparently, neglected to bring along. Such as a hatchet. He made rather quick work of hacking into the stick and cutting off the portion John had indicated would make good seating, and if he happened to flex a bit more than he normally would because he caught John watching out of the corner of his eye, well, who could blame him?

The two of them managed to drag the end of the stick over to the little circle of rocks without much trouble after that, and Hickory promptly dropped himself onto it once it was settled where John thought would be the best spot.

"Gonna need to go for another swim, after that," the ex-bounty hunter joked, kicking his feet out in front of himself as John crouched next to the rocks and began to set up the bits of bark Hickory had gathered.

"If there are enough glow flies in the area we can go for a night swim, if you want," John muttered, half distracted as he struck a match and lit the kindling he'd set up. Gently, he blew into the small pile of bark and twigs until the flames began to grow, a proud little smile on his face as he slowly fed twigs into it until it was large enough that he could put a couple of the larger sticks on. Once it seemed like he thought the fire wouldn't need to be babied further he stood with a pop of his knees and a crack of his back, a low groan leaving him as Hickory winced in sympathy.

"That sounded like it hurt," Hickory commented idly as John dropped onto the stick next to him with a grunt.

"Don't get old," John joked, laughing as Hickory shoved him lightly.

"I'll remind ya, since yer memory's apparently goin', that I'm only a few years younger than ya. Yer knees ain't the only ones that make noise when ya stand up," Hickory said as he rolled his eyes. "Anyhow, d'ya really reckon we could go swimmin' at night? Y'don't think that'd be dangerous, with all the critters roamin' around?"

John shrugged, watching the flames as their fire slowly grew. "I mean, I don't see why not. Like I said, there just needs to be enough glow flies so we can see. The stars out here are pretty bright, but it's better if there are glow flies. They're a really good, obvious, first alert system if something is close by."

"Cause they'll fly away," Hickory hummed with a nod, "Smart."

"Yeah. It's something my dad taught me, a long time ago," John sighed wistfully, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees, his gaze distant. Hickory took that as his queue to go and fetch the hotdogs from John's bag, as well as grabbing a couple of sticks from their little stash to spear the hotdogs with.

"Here," Hickory gently nudged John in the shoulder with his own, offering the teal troll one of the sharpened sticks as John visibly blinked himself back into reality.

"Oh! Thanks," John chuckled, gingerly taking the stick from Hickory, "Sorry. Sort of zoned out there. Didn't mean to get so lost in thought."

"It's alright," Hickory said with a small shrug, cutting open the package of hotdogs to spear one on the end of his stick, "Happens to the best of us. Mind if I ask what ya were thinkin' 'about?"

"Just family junk," John offered with a little shrug of his shoulders, taking a hotdog of his own and stabbing it a bit more violently than strictly necessary.

"I assume 'bout yer dad?"

John clicked his tongue, a wry little smile turning the corner of his lips. "Yeah. A bit. More about my brothers, though, I guess. I never did this with any of them," he gestured vaguely at their campsite. "I got to go camping once with my dad, and he taught me loads. But none of my brothers got to. And then things just sort of got crazy out of hand, and I never got to take any of them." He paused, sitting up and shooting Hickory an apologetic smile. "Sorry. This is supposed to be a fun trip, you don't need me babbling about family drama."

"I don't mind," Hickory reassured, gently resting his free hand on John's elbow, "Don't got much family, myself, aside from my older brother, an' that's a whole can a' worms on it's own…But, I don't mind hearin' 'bout other folks family. If ya need someone with a willin' ear, I'm always here."

John turned his head to look at Hickory, his gaze almost searching as his brow furrowed slightly. "That means a lot," he murmured, shifting so he could take the hand on his elbow into his own, entwining their fingers together. "I really…I really like talking to you, Hickory. I know we haven't known each other that long, but you mean a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me, too, Johnny."

John seemed to think for a moment, watching Hickory intently, before he leaned down to prop his stick between two of the rocks around their fire. He then took Hickory's and did the same with it, before turning sideways on their make-shift bench and taking Hickory's hands in his own. He visibly swallowed, thumbs brushing the backs of Hickory's hands, which sent little shivers up the country's trolls spine.

"You okay, John?" Hickory asked, leaning forward slightly with a concerned frown.

"Can I kiss you?"

It was said so quietly Hickory thought, perhaps, he was hearing things. "Pardon?"

John flushed, his ears drooping slightly as he gave Hickory's hands a little squeeze. "Can I kiss you?" he repeated a little louder, gaze fixed on their hands. "I might've been reading you wrong, but I think…I think you want to kiss me, too? It's okay, if you don't. I won't be offended, and we can pretend this never happened, I just…" He lifted his gaze, letting out a little breath, "I really want to kiss you."

"John Dory," Hickory stated, tugging John's hands closer so the teal troll was forced to lean further towards him, "If ya don't kiss me right this instant, I will be madder than a wet hen."

"Can't have that," John chuckled, before tilting his head and pressing his lips to Hickory's.

It was like pop rocks were poured down Hickory's spine, little tingles igniting what felt like every nerve ending as John shifted closer on their little bench so he could kiss the country troll more deeply. Their hands parted from each other, only to slide into hair and cling to shoulders, earning little shivers and soft sighs each time their lips parted for a moment for air.

"C'mon," John breathed after a time that Hickory's mind could hardly fathom, though the world was distinctly darker than it was before he got lost in John's lips. John stood, a hand outstretched towards Hickory in offering.

Hickory took it without hesitation, letting John lead him to their tent, anticipation twisting in his gut, their dinner and plans of swimming long forgotten.

When Hickory woke the next morning, it was to a tent distinctly devoid of John Dory. Groggily, he rubbed at his face as he sat up and looked around, finding what he assumed was John's silhouette on the outside of the tent, puttering around their campsite. He grunted as he shoved away the blankets he'd gotten tangled up in during the night and somehow managed to locate his pants and belt, tugging them on quickly before he stumbled into the morning light.

"Good morning!" John's voice was chipper and loud, making Hickory cringe slightly as he finger combed his hair.

"Mornin'," the country troll drawled, squinting against the sun until he found his hat and tugged it on, letting out a contented little sigh. He turned to find John Dory hovering over the fire, poking at what appeared to be eggs cooking on top of a flat stone. "Yer up mighty early."

"Habit," John said with a shrug, "Once the sun is up, I'm up."

"Disgusting," Hickory snorted, earning a light laugh from John.

"Yeah, well, can't be helped," John hummed, grabbed a large leaf and scooping one of the eggs from the stone onto it with a knife. "Forgot to bring plates, so you're going to have to deal with eating off a leaf with your fingers."

Hickory took the leaf happily, trotting over to their stick bench and sitting down. "I think I can live with that."

"Good, 'cause there wasn't much in terms of other options," John snorted, taking up his own leaf and egg before knocking the flat rock off the fire and walking over to the stick to sit as well.

They ate their breakfast quietly, John staring off into the fire, while Hickory let his eyes drift shut, smiling slightly to himself as he let the early morning sounds of the forest wash over him. He felt peaceful and calm, a warm little ember in his chest growing steadily at the knowledge that the troll his heart chose to beat wildly for was sat next to him and felt the same. Or, so he assumed.

"Hickory," John's quiet but serious tone shattered the tranquility of the forest, and drew Hickory from his revere. He blinked and turned his gaze towards John, who was still staring intently into the fire.

"What is it?"

"About last night…"

Hickory frowned, his posture stiffening at the words John spoke. He had to force his fingers to not tremble around the leaf he held. "What about it?"

"It doesn't-…Look, I know I dragged you all the way out here, and I'm your only way home, so just in case," John rambled, speaking without taking a breath, "It doesn't have to mean anything. We don't…If you felt obligated, I'm sorry. We can pretend nothing happened and go home right now, if you want."

Hickory stared John down, absentmindedly crushing the leaf in his hands. "Ya think I'd feel obligated to sleep with ya, just because we're out in the woods?"

"I mean," John flushed, looking up at Hickory, anxiety clear as day on his face, "…maybe?"

"I would sooner stab any troll that tried somethin' that I didn't want, then go willingly off to their tent," Hickory practically growled, before taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, listening as John shifted and squirmed on the stick next to him. "I ain't mad," he said after a beat, letting out another breath.

"You sound like it."

"Only 'cause you implied I was easy."

"Sorry."

Hickory opened his eyes, taking one last deep breath in, before turning his gaze to John once again, arching an eyebrow at finding the teal troll practically curled in on himself in his seat. "This been buggin' ya for a while?"

"I couldn't sleep," John admitted, and upon closer inspection Hickory could see the bags under John's eyes.

Hickory sighed quietly, letting his irritation slowly seep out of him. He reached out, his heart twisting as John flinched slightly at the movement. "I ain't gonna hurt you," he reassured, gently taking one of John's hands in his own, "I'd never hurt ya. John…I was so happy, last night, when ya said ya wanted to kiss me. I've been wantin' to do that for quite a while. Just didn't quite know how to go about sayin' anythin'. I like you, John Dory. A whole lot."

John's posture loosened as Hickory spoke, his hunched position straightening as he unconsciously leaned in towards the country troll. "Really?" he breathed, and Hickory could almost describe his expression as being starstruck.

"I don't have a tendency to say things I don't mean."

Hickory let a crooked little smile settle on his face as John slowly shifted closer to him, turning slightly so he could wrap both of his hands around Hickory's. "I'm so sorry. For thinking I'd taken advantage of you. For implying you would do anything you didn't feel comfortable with. I just thought that, if you didn't want it, or felt bad for me or something-"

Hickory cut him off with a snort of a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "Why on this green earth do you think I would feel bad for ya?"

John blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Uh…'cause I'm a washed up ex-boyband member with a laundry list of family trauma issues and no friends?"

"Who's also mighty handsome, talented, a skilled survivalist, and who seems to be completely blind to the admirers that watch 'im every time he goes to the market?"

"…You think I'm handsome?"

"Not the take away ya should be focusing on here, Johnny," Hickory snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry. Go on."

Hickory chuckled, cupping John's cheek in his free hand. "You think pretty little of yerself, an' that's a real shame. I wish ya could see yerself the way I do."

"And how's that?"

"Like a shootin' star in the night sky. So beautiful an' bright, but burnin' out so fast most folks can't appreciate ya for yer true magnificence," Hickory hummed, enjoying the way John's cheeks darkened, just before he gently tugged the teal troll into a kiss.

They parted with a quiet gasp between the two of them, John looking a bit dazed.

"So…you're my boyfriend now, right?" John asked bluntly after a beat, earning a surprised burst of laughter from Hickory.

"You bet yer bottom dollar, playboy."

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls world tour #trolls hickory #trolls john dory #hickdory #trolls fanfic #things that i wrote

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kanmom51 · 2 months

Note

https://twitter.com/parkjmwins/status/1782358915939774874

Idk whether you will even answer this ask or will block me but this is exactly why JK had similar concept pics like Jimin. Jikookers made it to be romantic while Fandom made it to a joke 'JK always copy Jimin' (ofcourse). I've seen you making multiple posts about Jikook concept pics being match is a proof of them being a couple when in reality Hybe don't even take permission of original artist before using their ideas for another. One hybe label just got into trouble for copying newjeans and according to CEO min heejin it was BANG SHIHYUK who wanted to copy newjeans to create a second version of them through illit. And guess what he made sure illit gets 10x more success than newjeans, a 2 day song was already charting in different charts including hot 100. The same bang shihyuk who ignored every bit of Jimin's success but shamelessly copied his ideas and visions of concept pics for another favorite member. He shamelessly asks staffs to copy original ideas of artists who created them and use them for a cheap version of the said artist, Newjeans and Jimin are just examples.

Was it JK's fault ? Not necessarily but unlike rookie Illit he had power and capability to make his own decisions and use his own visions instead of doing what he was asked to do by the staff (his words) but he didn't and sat comfortably while using another person's hardwork. If you still think those similarities were because they were couple then idk what to say because in that logic Newjeans girls and Illit girls are dating.

Talk about TikTok generation ask.

Linking me to a tweet that has zero actual information and/or proper discussion, just stating a fact that isn't necessarily even a fact. Ignoring the full picture (like y'all do when it comes to Jikook as well, btw).

And I also find it so so funny how you are basically hanging your all on something that a very problematic figure within the Kpop industry is claiming, all to try and deflect from despicable behaviour she's being accused of, including using and revealing private info of Hybe idols obtained in illegal and despicable manors, perhaps including having to do with certain private info leaking of certain BTS members (including the one person that you so vehemently claim to love and stand in defense of).

You think that by sending me this link you are proving something?

You say that you read through my posts. Well, obviously you've missed those many posts I've written explaining how JM and JK being a couple can be deducted not from one action or one behaviour alone, but the combination of many many actions or behaviours. A puzzle built of not 10 or 50 or 100 pieces, but one built of so many many more.

I find it funny how with everything that has been going on with JM and JK you guys are still at this.

We're back to JK copying JM.

Like seriously.

Like even if the whole NJ Illit thing was true there was some kind of a comparison to be made with these two men.

Like JK, who's album concept is 180 degrees different than JM's doesn't have stylists at his beck and call to create a concept that isn't a full on copy of JM's. Right down to the studs and colours and minutiae details of some of the outfits.

Like if he did copy JM, that same scorned poor JM (that's how you guys love to portray him, as a damsel in distress awaiting you to swoop in and save him) CHOSE to fly to NY to be with JK and spend Silver day there with him, travel with him multiple times and spend his entire 18 months in the army with that awful copy cat JK.

Your ask tells me that you have zero understanding in human interactions and relationships. JM saying time and time again, JOKING time and time again, about JK copying him, it's a tease but also something that he LOVES. How he inspires JK, how JK perceives him as his catalyst.

But this here, the photo concepts and the whole of JK's wardrobe while promoting, claiming it's all about copying JM is just bull crap. This was planned. And it was planned by the two of them. It's not a coincidence that JM happens to wear the bottom part of a two piece outfit months before JK wears the top part of the same exact outfit.

And if we are talking about copying, is it the concept he's copying or is he so far gone that he's literally copying down to the smallest of details?

Like seriously. You think that's about copying JM?

Or because it worked for JM so he thinks it will work for him? Literally same hairstyle rocking as JM had in Face? Cause why not use a concept that works? Seriously? JK's all "I should do this cause it worked for JM so it will work for me"?

Was that what he was thinking when he rocked a highlight of JM's hair colour over the years? That the colour works for JM so I should have a strand of that colour in my hair as well, copying his success? Is that the theory you're working with?

Or when JK wore the same jacket as JM on Valentines day, you know, in a clip that JM himself records and uploads, that JK also copying JM?

Babe, this isn't just about the concept pics either. And it's not just about Face and Seven or Golden. Wearing the actual same black leather or leather-like pants just because he couldn't find any other pants? That level of copying? Or perhaps it wasn't about copying and more about mirroring.

About "You are me I am you", which they have been screaming at the top of their lungs for years now!!!

It amazes me how you have zero issue in taking an over decade long complex super close relationship (no matter how you perceive it they are super close) and simplifying it into "JK copied JM's concept because JM's concept worked for him", or to even compare whatever went on with JK and JM and those similarities to a claim made (by a disgruntled and caught red handed employee of Hybe) about one new GG copying concepts and whatever from a GG that's been around for 2 years now. No connection between them. No long term relationships between the groups. One group supposedly copying from another. Yeah, definitely the comparison needed to be made between that and Jikook's behaviours or decision making.

How infantile of you.

Oh and that paragraph of yours at the end. Laughable really.

Like I already said, go compare 2 GGs in two different companies to 2 men that have been close for over 10 years now. And let's also disregard the long history of those two doing the similar and same outfit (during official shoots, performances etc, or during their free time) thing and look at this one single concept.

Probably styled (funny how the styling seems to be similar for years now on many occasions, and just with the two of them)

Not styled.

These are just examples of MANY MORE instances.

Oh, and I suggest you go read this post too. Not mine, but recently written and oh so relevant to the conversation.

I can't help but wonder how different your pov would have been if one of those two young men was a female. Just thought I would throw that in here too.

But I gotta give you an A for persistence. You guys, you never give up, do you? No matter what JK and JM will throw at you, you will find a way to twist it around to fit your narratives. I guess you also think that JM was forced into enlistment with JK, ah? And their trips together and the content that will drop, also forced on him? I guess him saying otherwise isn't enough to convince you guys either, right? I love the way how you guys are so intrenched in your belief of victimhood that you don't even listen to what JM himself tells you. You love him so much that basically call him a liar. Good for yous I guess.

So, to clarify my answer to you, just in case it wasn't as clear as day already...

You do you, cause nothing I tell you, or show you, or you know what? Nothing that even JM himself will tell you or show you will satisfy you. Because you are living in a self built fantasy of what and who JM is and what and who those that surround him are, all to fit that narrative of yours in which he needs you guys as his saviours and knights in shining armour to swoop in and save him from the big bad JK.

One more thing.

JM's Face was a masterpiece.

We all agree on that. JK included.

He adores JM, he's his no. 1 fan and he's been showing us this throughout 2023.

JK is not a person that would callously copy a concept used by a bandmate just because it succeeded for his bandmate and might work for him too.

Let alone from JM.

His person.

Not even if, as you put it, he was told to do so by the powers at be (which yeah, he'd tell to go shove it up their asses if they ever did 'tell' him to do that btw, and they wouldn't do it anyway seeing that they know that would be his exact reaction).

So, no.

That is my answer to you.

Just a whole big fat NOPE.

No to copying. And surprisingly no to blocking you.

Yet.

#Jikook #kookmin #minkook #jungkook #jk #jimin #jm

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lo1k-diamonds · 3 months

Text

SX Seoul Series | Jimin Entry 💜 Like Crazy

GIF by cordiallyfuturedwight

PAIRING: Jimin x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You let your desires run wild and things got too far while figuring out the choreography for Jimin's next single. You thought it was best to pretend it never happened, but he decided to chase you, hoping to set things right.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

GENRE: strangers to lovers, smut, soft but filthy (?)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: pwp (porn w/ plot really), mentions of drinking, misunderstandings, unprotected sex (wrap it up), semi-public sex, Jimin loses control and I find that endearing, light sub/dom with the reader being the dom, oral (f), hand job, edging, playing with cum, squirting, riding, breast worship & play, multiple orgasms, praise kink

A.N. 2024 started with the thoughts that inspired this fic, and writing it, I don't know. Jimin matched this energy perfectly, I can't explain it. Hopefully, you'll agree 💜

Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Jimin went quickly up the stairs while lowering his head under the drizzle. He ignored the people near the railing lining up, only glancing to confirm the presence of the lighted ice-blue stripes on the wall: SX.

He raised his head in time to face the bouncer, who recognized him and let him in immediately, but only relaxed fully once he was in the club’s lobby. There he shook the traces of rain off his black leather jacket before running his hands a couple of times through his hair, smoothing and rippling the dark strands simultaneously.

People laughing and chatting went around him to enter the club proper and he glanced but kept his head low. He knew the club’s owner and knew he tried to keep that club room on the exclusive side — to the entertainment industry — but to Jimin, that was a double-edged sword. On one side, that meant he was sure to find you there, on the other he risked being recognized by what were essentially colleagues and friends.

He released a breath to soothe himself and brushed his hair one last time before going in. Not that it mattered, he concluded, as the flashing lights and loud music made his eyes blink and bones vibrate. He was free to go to a club whenever he wanted, regardless of who spotted him. What mattered was to find you.

His first searches in between the crowd were unsuccessful, so he neared the bar and asked for a drink. As he waited, he instantly turned to try his luck again only for the owner himself to recognize him and chat him up.

Jimin was polite, talking easily about how busy he was working on his solo work that would be out soon.

“The vibe kind of reminds me of this place,” he offered with a smile, taking the martini to his lips after swirling the twist of lemon peel inside.

The conversation didn’t last long and when the owner had to give his attention elsewhere, Jimin was finally free to let his thoughts overrun him. He needed to find you, and fast.

He knew you’d be there, he heard you scheduling it with the other dancers earlier. Earlier—

He almost choked thinking about it, the lights making him dizzy for a moment as he put the glass down on the bar counter.

What was he doing? Chasing you like that? Maybe he was crazy. What would that accomplish? What if you would just mock him? For—

Oh shit, his stomach twisted. What if you had already told everyone?

Damn it, he shouldn’t have let it play out like that. But he was genuinely powerless then, so out of it he only remembered being relaxed and molded to the hardwood floor beneath him.

“Good job,” you had told him in a velvety tone, lips hovering above his just after a sensual quiet laugh had snapped him away from his shock.

Were you mocking him then? No, he didn’t think so. But he was getting out of a high, so could he trust his judgment? And in a second you were no longer straddling him, but gone. He had sat up as quickly as he could only to see the door closing behind you, blocking him from calling your name. And then he glanced down at his crotch only to be confronted with—

He snapped his head back; that red smudge at the corner of his eye, was that you?! He was turning to the dance floor with his drink to drown his sorrows when he thought he saw you entering the room, and he was right! You were with friends, laughing and having fun, and his guts instantly twisted like he had to barf.

But he took deep breaths and calmed down. He knew you — you weren’t like that. He had to trust that. He glanced at you again, at your genuine smile, and wondered what your eyes would tell him if he faced you. Were you proud? Amused? Indifferent?

He forced himself to face the bar and drank the rest of the martini in one go before facing himself in the mirror behind the displayed bottles. This was his life, he was in control of it. He was there for a reason and he was going to do it.

He went straight for you, something similar to a tunnel narrowing his vision. His heart was racing deafeningly inside his chest, to the point he wondered where the music had gone, and then he touched your shoulder.

You turned around and your eyes widened right before you chucked and he thought his heart stopped.

“I thought you had enough dancing for today,” you asked cheekily after a small bow of your head, impermeable to his paleness and breathlessness.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

His voice was quiet and you had the distinct impression he was hiding, which instantly set your nerves on high alert. “Of course. What is it?”

He hesitated, and at that instant, you knew everything was fucked. “It’s… it’s private. I’d prefer it if we go somewhere quiet.”

Your stomach fell to the floor, but you still nodded. What else could you do? He was still the artist hiring you.

He waved at you to follow him and you did, instantly chastising yourself for being nonchalant about everything. But what else could you do? Jimin was a fucking star, you doubted any of it mattered. He’d play it cool and—

He stopped by the bar to speak to a bald guy you had the impression was the bar owner, but you didn’t listen. Jimin wanted to talk in private, and after what had happened, you could only think of one thing he wanted to say.

Of course, he would fire you. He was so keen on doing it, that once he spotted you, he couldn’t let it go or wait for Monday. And of course he wouldn’t, you should have known. You had totally lost face after going overboard like that.

The bald guy spoke with another bartender before waving at Jimin to follow him, to which Jimin glanced at you before going after him. There was a door in the mirror wall beside the bar and it led to a corridor. The house music was halved there already but you didn’t pay attention to the owner’s indications; you only followed Jimin, even after the bar door closed behind you.

It wasn’t that Jimin had to play it cool or that you expected him to because he was a star, you argued in your thoughts. Not even because you thought that happened to him all the time or anything like that, just—

You heaved a deep breath, settling things with yourself — it was just tension. Tension was meaningless to someone like him, that was all. That was what you thought, and that wasn’t a crime. The arguable crime was what you did before.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, you concluded, following after Jimin in silence. But who were you kidding, you absolutely should not have. You would soon have a brilliant ten-year career as a dance coordinator. Risking it in the spur of the moment was possibly the dumbest shit you had ever done. The problem was that it never felt like you were risking anything.

You were experimenting with the choreography. During the second verse of the song, a parallelism should occur where a female dancer and Jimin should mirror each other. After a full day of going over the chorus choreography with him alone, as the choreographer, it was your job to come up with ideas but he effortlessly suggested working on them with you. Jimin was always like that, wanting to be involved in his choreos, and you didn’t mind it at all. Granted you were both exhausted, and you’d admit he was…

You glanced at him. He always made you flutter in various ways, and dancing with him or watching him dance was no different. But you could stay professional; you had worked together before, and there was never an issue.

But today you were experimenting with potential dance moves for that verse and you suggested lying down. He was curious about it and asked you to explain, and you told him, “Like a worm dance move, but one over the other. Let me show you, lay down.”

He lay on the dance room floor and you placed yourself with your sneakers next to his hips. Once he gave you the go-ahead, you bent forward with your hands ready to catch you on either side of his head and let your body fall over him, curving from your chest to your stomach, hips, and knees before your feet touched the ground, and you got up. You couldn’t forget his expression as you did it: his cheeks gained color, his parted lips revealed his surprise, and as your face hovered over him, his glistening stunned eyes were on you before lowering to what you hoped was a good view, aka, your cleavage.

“What do you think?” You had asked.

“Again,” was all he had said.

So you did it many times more, trying to connect from the previous step in the choreography and then trying to figure out where to go from there — if you should get up on your feet or just stay on your knees or maybe something else.

“Then we can find a way of… getting you up again,” you were winded as you quite simply stayed seated on him. You wouldn’t have normally but you were exhausted, so you didn’t move, with your core dangerously close to his. So close that you instantly thought, Not that we need to, you’re already up.

And the thought should have scared you, but as you both recovered your breaths, you just stayed put, facing each other. His gray sweatpants left nothing to the imagination from where you were sitting and your leggings only helped. It was thoughtless of you to move an inch only to feel him a bit better, and you were startled into freezing when his dark eyes snapped open. Yet he said nothing, did nothing but look at you, the both of you sweating and still panting. Until his hands brushed your hips and the scales tipped. He squeezed ever so slightly, and you let yourself fall.

Jimin opened the last door at the end of the halfway and you followed him inside. When he closed the door behind you, the music became barely audible and you could hear yourself think. And panic. And make the right choice like the professional you were.

“I understand,” you started, turning to him once you reached the desk on the opposite side of the room. You were in an office, and as small as it was, at least you had distance between you. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll give my resignation letter tomorrow.”

“What?” He gaped, blinking his normally sweet eyes, “Why?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “What do you mean, why? For—” Your breath got caught up in your throat and you suddenly were at a loss. How could you say it? You sucked in a breath, “For acting inappropriately.”

His eyebrows pinched ever so slightly and you thought that speaking ahead could at least save your career.

“I’m sorry if I harmed you somehow. That was not my intention. I— I got carried away.”

You wondered if you misstepped by admitting that much, but instantly your eyes dropped to his lips and the memory flooded you. They were incredibly soft, as was his tongue, playful in a delicious kiss that had you forgetting everything aside from how hard he was beneath you.

You forced yourself to look down and bow respectfully, “Please don’t worry about—”

“You didn’t finish.”

You raised your head, “What?”

“You didn’t finish.”

You straightened back up and blinked. You gave it time, but you had nothing. What was he talking about?

Oh, right.

“The choreography? You have a lot of it already,” you smiled pacifyingly. “I’m certain you can get someone to fill in the gaps.”

“No,” he stepped forward. “You.”

You blinked, drawing a blank again. “Me? I don’t understand.”

“You—” He hesitated for only a second, “You didn’t come.”

Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, but then you pursed your lips, “So?”

“So,” he took a step forward. “You left before I could do something about it.”

You could almost hear the click as you thought you had caught on to him, “You mean you want to finish what we started? Not fire me?”

His expression only softened as he nodded, and yet for you, it was even more confusing.

“Really?” You asked, blinking in surprise.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No!” You almost shouted as he tilted his head, so you reeled it back in quickly, “No, definitely not, I just—” He stayed quiet as you struggled for words until you just sighed, saying the first thing that came to mind, “I just didn’t think you’d want that.”

“Why not?”

The way he rolled his shoulders reminded you of the tension building between you. You were sort of blind to it before, as you had been worried about your future for a moment there, but now you could feel it lacing around your neck again. He was right there like a pretty picture, just waiting for you to answer or do something, leaving you space to decide whatever, and yet you were still wary of making the wrong decision.

“Because… That’s not very professional,” you settle with, deciding to still be cautious about it.

But he just chuckled, “I think we’re past worrying about that. Or not?”

Your mouth moved without filter, “If you want us to be, then we are.”

His smile potentially rewired your brain. Even as he looked down and seemed to consider something, all you could do was wonder if this was real. Jimin was really telling you not to worry about being professional because he wanted to finish what you started at the dance studio and holy shit, you were getting hot.

“I…” He started, and you attuned instantly. “I’d like it if we kept it between us.”

“Deal.”

He could see you relaxing in a way, and now he was certain that your posture had changed. Just like before at the dance studio, your shoulders were straight, your posture intent, ready to move. He didn’t have to hide his eyes tracing your curves because you were doing the same to him. And it burned. Usually, he preferred to have clothes on; he was never the most confident about his body. But with you, it felt different. Perhaps because of before but… With you, the clothes were in the way.

He took a deep breath and pulled on the collar of his leather jacket as it was gluing to his skin, “I’m not sure what this means but…” He looked back at you with darkening eyes. “I don’t want to think right now.”

You instantly nodded in agreement, then shook your head the next second, “Yes, no thinking. I just want to know one thing,” you started, mind falling deeper into that rabbit hole. He nodded. “How did you plan on finishing me off?”

Your heart was drumming fast, but that was it. His lips parted in a bit of shock, but you didn’t take it back. He could back out, but if he wanted it, then you were in and this was what it meant. You wanted to know how he planned on continuing this partially because you wanted to know if you were on the same page, but also to know—

“Eating,” he breathed, and your eyebrows jumped. He must have noticed your eagerness because he licked his lips as a hand ran through his hair, “Eating you out. Burying my face in—”

His breath caught and you couldn’t help yourself; you shook your head almost anxiously, “Say it. Come on, please,” you were asking and it was enticing. “Say it for me.”

His reaction was to rub his face in embarrassment, “I can't believe I'm saying this to you.”

“Why?” You almost pouted, “I want to hear it.”

“Yes, but…” he didn’t seem to know how to face you or answer until he took a breath to renew his courage. “Talking… is hard. I should finish you first.”

He took a step forward but you raised your hands with a light frown, “Wait. Talking is important. This is not a race.”

“No, of course not. And yes, I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk, it’s just—” You had lowered your hands and his discomfort was abundantly clear, making you wonder what was going on. He heaved a deep breath before confessing, “I feel like I failed.”

For a second, you thought this was a terrible idea. If he wanted to be with you because of a semblance of hurt ego or pride, then you were not interested. But then… You knew Jimin, you had worked together before. He was a perfectionist but he wouldn’t come this far just for that.

So you allowed yourself to dig deeper, and stepped closer to him, “Because you came?”

“I couldn't control it. I tried,” he was apologetic and you closed the distance between you two.

“I saw it,” you acknowledged, then smiled. “You looked so cute trying, groaning a no even when your orgasm overcame you.”

He looked down and you saw that same embarrassment that now you were starting to gain a distaste for. Because that was nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, you loved that you drove him that insane just by straddling and kissing him. Just thinking of the frenzy that had you dry-humping him and kissing him like he was the air you needed had your temperature rising. He had no way of knowing how close you had been nor how it filled you with pride when he twitched inside his pants and groaned into your kiss. At that moment, you had thought that playing with him would have been the best thing ever. Then you realized who you were doing that with and thought that leaving was the best course of action.

Well, you weren’t leaving this time.

You had a better idea. Your lips curved as you got your jacket off, knowing the deep cleavage on that red dress could convince him to look back up.

“Maybe you were too turned on,” you sighed after throwing the jacket over a nearby chair. You smirked at his eyes on you and casually adjusted the bra stripes, making your breasts bounce. “Wouldn’t blame you,” you shrugged, tone brazen as you relaxed. “It could be,” you continued, your hands forming a v down your stomach to your mound. “That this pussy is just magical.”

He couldn’t hold back his chuckle and you grinned, even as he shook his head with color on his cheeks.

“Isn't that why you thought of eating it?”

“I think it's your hips,” he voiced, endlessly more at ease. You could hear it and see it. “The way you move… the way you dance has always made me imagine, but today the way you moved to—” Your look was intense but you knew he could take it. “—to grind on me just—”

“Got you bursting despite your best efforts?” Your tone was almost condescending and to your surprise, he simply nodded.

“I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you.”

And that did it for you. “Don't be sorry, you're here now.” You passed by him and happily found a key on the door that you turned. You glanced at him but he only ever looked at you, never losing sight, so your lips curved, “I'd say this is way better.”

He didn’t oppose you in any way as you got around him to reach the desk again, only this time you sat on it. You spread your legs and his tongue peeked between his lips.

You smirked, “Come here.” He moved but his eyes were restless; indecisive on where to focus first. Right before he could reach you, you added, “Kiss me first.”

Still, as he got in between your legs, first he tentatively traced your legs up to your knees and hips with the back of his fingers. Gently but in awe, holding his breath to scout your reaction. You smiled at him and opened your arms and your welcome had him melting forward with his eyes set on your lips.

You closed the distance between you so your mouths could meet, squeezing your knees to his hips so he knew not to move away. While your arms wrapped around his neck relaxedly, you moved your lips at your tempo, knowing that he’d follow. You imposed a slow rhythm, mouths opening millimeter by millimeter to allow for your breaths to mix progressively, tastes to be shared patiently, and tongues to finally touch in sensual flicks that had him groaning mutely.

You were doing it again, he thought, needing to hold your waist and press himself closer to make sure you wouldn’t leave. Just like before, he trusted you without a thought and your kiss was enough to dazzle him, to make him want to follow the rails you set out for him if only because it was you. He wanted it all. If he sucked a deeper breath, it was to breathe you in. If he chased your tongue, it was because he wanted more of what you were giving. If he pressed your waist, it was because he needed to be grounded. Because he was already over the moon, sweating under those stupid layers of clothes, painfully hard and away from that magical pussy of yours, and lost. So lost if you wouldn’t show him the way.

He didn’t know if you realized it, but he trusted your guidance and you didn’t disappoint. You hugged him closer, pressing your chest to him and giving him space to join your cores. Even through his pants, you could feel his bulge, and you wanted it. You opened your eyes during your kiss and all that you could see was absolute relaxation and vulnerability on those sweet lines of his, so you took the next step.

First, you wrapped your legs around him, crossing them over his perky ass. Then you pressed him closer, right before stretching your legs, the movement making him go back, right before you pressed again to draw him close. It created a push-and-pull move that had him grazing against your center ever so slightly, making you flutter around nothing just at the suggestion. And you could tell he appreciated it, if only by the way he sighed and his lips became lax with the distraction. You gripped his hair by the back of his neck and he went with it, letting you split your mouths while your lower body dance continued.

His eyes opened a slit to face you and that view was fatal. He was a fucking gorgeous man, with his kiss-bruised lips and mute groans escaping them all while dark eyes invited you to have your way. And you would because at that point you wanted little more than to play with him all the way.

It was stronger than you; a moment of that view, of his bulge making your imagination fly, and you couldn’t stop yourself. In a matter of seconds, your free hand was forcing its way inside his pants, not even bothering to unbutton them, just squeezing in between and passing every layer of clothing until you gripped his hard cock.

He groaned with lips parting further, surprised with your boldness, but not dissatisfied with it. Quite on the contrary, judging by his precome on your hand. His fingers gripped your waist harder but he stayed exactly put, letting you squeeze the head tightly and jerk him as much as you could with the clothes’ constraints.

But you liked them on. Your tongue peeked between your lips as you took in that full image. Park Jimin still had his black leather jacket on but was covering your fist in precome, groaning with pleasure on an expression you didn’t guess he let many others see. No one would know how weak you left him even if they barged into the room right now, and you instantly knew no one else could do that to him. You could read it in his eyes — he was taken, he was yours, and he wanted you to have him. And if on any other day, you could have had fun just teasing and testing his limits, that would have to wait for now. Tonight you wanted to be with him.

So you let go of his hair and jumped a bit on your ass while you pulled the hem of your dress up the curve of your hips. His eyes didn’t miss anything, not your round hips being revealed and surely not your chest bouncing. Just by the way he looked at you, you knew he was your kind of guy, but not yet. You had that office at the back of a club, after all, you were not going to make it a quickie.

“Pull your clothes down.”

He blinked questioningly and you smiled and nodded. As he unbuttoned his pants and forced them and his underwear down his hips as best he could, you could only guess what all of that was doing to him. Your teases, your generous cleavage glistening under the office lights, your raised skirt suggesting what could come next, and finally, your request laced in a low lustful tone. His obedience was rewarded with wider movements of your fist up and down his shaft, which would have all your attention if his cheeks weren’t flushed. Fuck, you wanted to bring him to his knees crying with bliss, show him he was the key to heaven itself and you were the gatekeeper.

But not yet.

Your firm hand around his cock pulled him closer as you sat on the edge of the desk and spread your legs. He almost fell over you, supporting himself on the table to stay at bay only to waver on his knees. Your laced panties were red, just like your dress, and contrasted with his pink engorged tip.

“Look,” you called to him, eyes fixed on the view of his cock head rubbing on your clothed clit. “You have such a pretty cock.”

His groan was instant, bringing more fire to his cheeks if that was possible. You were looking at him now, seeing how tense he was, how he was gripping the desk on either side of you, how he was trying not to buck his hips to help you, but most importantly, how beneath the embarrassment and desire, he was proud. You grinned wickedly when you realized this, thoughts running wild as you licked your lips.

“Is it good?” You asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t getting lost too soon.

And he nodded, trying to suck in a ragged breath, “I said I’d eat you.”

His hoarse voice had you sinking your teeth in your bottom lip, and after a moment of consideration, you let him go. Your hand was wet around your thumb and pointer where his precome had found purchase, and you brought it up. He had staggered with the loss of your hand, deciding to wait for your signal before getting on his knees to eat you, when he almost choked. Your tongue was out, savoring him off your hand slowly as your eyes stayed on him, and he felt a new wave of heat hit his back. He was melting, hanging on a breath and on your opinion because you were surely measuring up his taste before you gave your go-ahead.

Your lips twitched before you gave a last lick up your thumb, and he finally breathed. Yet he only unfroze when you leaned back on the desk and uttered what resembled a challenge, “Go on.”

His knees hit the floor at super speed, followed only by his starving eyes and his fingers looking to hook your panties. You only twitched your eyebrows when he glanced up in confirmation but then he was free to pull them down your legs. The wet spot on the outer side was obvious, it was his doing, but as the fabric passed your knees, the white and translucent arousal pooling on the inner side had him salivating.

You could see in his focused expression that he wasn’t taking things lightly, but you considered he might have been intimidated. You were wrong. His eyes were fixed on his goal and the first thing he did was bury his face right at your center, rubbing it in and taking a deep breath as if he had finally come home. It was enough to make you throb, but it was his hunger that did you in.

He was starving; the use of the word eating had not been lost on him. His mouth was everywhere in the beginning, followed by his tongue collecting all of your dripping wetness as if it was an oasis in a desert, and then he settled. He took a deep breath with a whiny groan that you doubted had been voluntary and focused on lapping at your sex, licking and licking in a certain rhythm that had you finally blushing and groaning at the ceiling.

In between your haze, you found yourself smirking. Of course, a dancing god would have a perfect tempo but it was almost unfair. You wanted to have fun and make him work for it, and instead, he was the one driving you crazy.

So much so you needed to grab his hair and when you did, you clenched, biting your bottom lip not only not to moan but also not to come. Unknowingly, he made it easier for you. Maybe he thought you needed a break and that was your way of asking because he gave you one, nuzzling your clit instead. Only that made you squirm and grip his head harder, pressing him to you for more pressure, and he got the gist. He gripped your hips in place, sticking his tongue inside you for a moment to collect your taste only to go back to licking you deliciously over your clit.

And you finally moaned and bucked your hips, the searing sensation so close to where he was going down on you, you could have come on his face.

But you held back. You pulled his head away by his hair and almost lost your nerve at his swollen lips and hungry eyes. Why did he look so fucking delicious? Was it because he was covered in you from nose to chin?

“Fuck, if I knew you ate pussy this good, I would have gone straight for your mouth instead of leaving.”

His tongue darted out to lick your taste from his lips as his fingers dug into your skin. He couldn’t think any further than the idea of ravishing you, especially now that you were not only giving him a chance but regretting leaving him too soon. “I can keep going and finally make it up to you.”

“No,” you decided quickly, sitting back up. “Not yet.” He furrowed his brow for a moment, unsure of what you were asking. “I’ve changed my mind, I want to feel you first.”

He didn’t move. The way you seemed to be holding back brought doubts to the forefront of his mind, which brought hesitation. He could do it, he showed you he could do it, so why would you stop him now?

“Look,” you asked sweetly as you leaned forward to cup his balls. He was standing again because you had pulled him up and he observed you with curiosity. “Still so full,” you cooed, rolling his balls on your hands gently. You saw his Adam’s apple bobbing and you grinned, “And with such a pretty hard cock.” You grabbed him with your other hand, jerking him swiftly and firmly over his tip, swaying him on his feet. “Where else? I want you inside me,” you sighed, looking down at the precome spurting out of him again. Fucking tease he was. “Want to see the face you’ll make when my walls squeeze the cum out of you.”

He blinked and licked his lips, knowing fully well you expected an answer but needing to scramble his mind for one, “Whatever you ask.”

You smiled mischievously and slowed your fist on him only to beckon him closer, “Kiss me.”

Your traces on his face were waning but you were quick to lap your tongue around his mouth messily, holding his chin in place so he wouldn’t escape you when you pushed your tongue inside him. Your excitement was taking the breaks out of you and it showed when you pumped his cock harder, not giving him a second to breathe. He had to fight or submit to your tongue as you pressed in, biting his lip whenever he tried to evade you, even if to moan your name. But the effects of that sound only made it worse.

Your legs laced around him and pressed him closer so you could guide the crown of his cock to your entrance, “So hard and thick.”

Your lewd voice dragged as you clenched around his girth and it tried to catch in you. His hands came to rest on your legs, eyes fixed on the view while his lower lip became trapped between his teeth. He was hanging on, desperate for the moment it would happen.

“You’ll stretch me so good,” you moaned at the thought, and his sole reply was a jerk of his hips. You licked your lips at the initiative and pressed your shins to his ass to get him swaying. “Gonna make me all wet and crazy for this cock,” you rasped as you saw, same as him, his cock trying to push into your closed fist to reach your sex. “Gonna fill me up with that sweet cum of yours. Aren’t you?”

You asked as you grinned, feeling the precome fill your hand again. Fuck, he was messy, and he had no idea how much you liked that.

“Shit,” his mumble was his only verbal response, meanwhile his hips gained momentum. He clearly enjoyed your incentive, your fist pulsing around his tip in a tease, threatening to catch him only to let him go back in an endless game that had him shaking.

You saw it, and you loved it and couldn’t not play with him. It was stronger than you. As he kept jolting, trying to ever reach inside you, you caressed his hip gently with your free hand, leaning closer to meet him halfway. Because he was bending forward, flushed and focused, breathing heavily as he rutted into your hand, so bent on getting inside you no matter what it took. He was facing you, reading your lips as you cooed him sweetly, fueling his hunger with yours and falling into your kiss.

You licked his lips in a tease, “Harder.”

And he did, following your lead as he grunted and tensed under your fingers now at his sweaty neck. You were entranced by him in ways hard to describe: his parted pouty lips, his breathtaking stare, and his cocked eyebrows telling you that he was rising to the challenge and giving you what you wanted. Your mouth opened too when his cock finally slid so well in your fist that the tip kissed your folds and you shuddered. His hands had sneaked up to your hips and gripped harder, committed to that last stretch to get to you, and you licked your lips.

And let go.

You opened your hand and he suddenly slid inside you, splitting you so harshly you screamed with the invasion, and so did he. He almost collided with your chest, dodging your face last second so you wouldn’t head bump, but his focus had shifted. Instantly he groaned, and you burned in bliss. You knew the way your walls were squeezing him was mind blowing, your throbbing to accommodate his girth helping you and him. He twitched and groaned into the crook of your neck and you knew he had lost control again.

Fuck, you just adored the way he breathed when he was high and coming down, it was perfect. Riveting, exhilarating, heavenly. All the things you knew he would be, and more.

He cursed into your shoulder and you grinned, making sure to tell him, “We’re not done.”

He straightened back to look at you and you smiled endearingly as you cupped his cheeks.

“You just stretched me,” you cooed. “Gonna let me ride you?”

He blinked, “Now?”

“Now, gorgeous,” you sighed with a smile, crossing your legs on his ass firmly before he had any ideas. It was hard not to enter a frenzy after so much foreplay, especially now that his come was threatening to drip out of you. “Said I’d empty you, and you’re not done yet.”

You reached to pull his leather jacket back and off him then pulled his shirt up without the slightest hesitation. Your nails grazed down his pale skin over his pecs, marking him as you felt the muscles leading to his thin waist.

Your fingers brushed his NEVERMIND tattoo, “You’re so fucking hot, no wonder.”

He pressed his palms to his eyes and you could guess he was letting the embarrassment back in, and you weren’t having it.

“Look at me,” you demanded firmly, and he lowered his hands to look at you in surprise. “I need to ride you,” you said and bucked your hips in case he had forgotten where he was still sheathed. “Take me and sit on that chair.”

He glanced at the chair next to him where you had thrown your jacket, and wrapped his arms around you to do as you requested. As he did, he wondered how he could break down to you that eventually, he’d get soft, but the thought never reached his mouth because you were kissing his head and pressing yourself to him. As soon as his ass hit the chair, your feet found the ground and you rolled your hips over him with a quiet moan that covered him in goosebumps. Right, he thought, tension stiffening him from head to toe. He was still hard inside you, you felt that good.

You could feel him stretching you, barely any of his come dripping down, and so you moved tentatively only to lose your mind soon after. “Fuck you’re so good,” you mewled into his ear as you hugged him and rocked over him. “Your cum got me sliding so well,” you sighed, and he dug his fingers into your waist. “Not just a pretty cock, huh?” You leaned back and smiled, letting him see how fucking crazy he made you. “But a good cock,” you moaned, never stopping your ride. “Made to keep me well stuffed and satisfied, hm?”

Pleasure was twisting his features and you doubted he would answer you.

You leaned forward, “Fuck, I need to empty you.” You were starting to hump him hard, not only searching for his cock to hit inside you but for a roughness over your clit. You gripped the hair at the back of his head and reached to ghost his lips, “Leave you spent and pretty.” Your hips gained traction and the way he was looking back at you, as if he knew how crazy he drove you, had you gripping harder. “Can I?”

He smiled, “Yeah.”

And it broke you. You took support on his shoulders and jumped once on his cock, making sure he was ready for you. He was.

“Get your pants off and away.”

“What?”

“Do it: out of your feet and kick them away,” you repeated, giving him the time to do it without getting off your throne. Once he sat back up, grabbing your hips comfortably, you rolled them again, “Your come is dripping.” You were gluing your chest to his and he was busy looking at it, wrapped in red. “We’re gonna make such a mess.”

You chuckled sensually and kissed his cheek all the way to his ear, biting on his earlobe as you got comfortable on his lap.

“Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” You asked gently before licking his ear, “I can always ride your pretty mouth.” He was squirming when you tried licking him again, so you pulled back. “Good?”

He nodded, biting his lip as he eyed you, and you smirked. You leaned in to bite his pouty lip for just a languid moment before you pressed on your heels to slide up his shaft and then fall down. And again and again, easily letting the moans out of your lips now that you weren't holding back. His head fell back a little, eyes fixed on you as his chin dropped, and you took it upon yourself to make him sound pretty.

The slaps, the wetness, the tight vice you had him under; he couldn’t even think. How could you feel this good? His toes were curling, his nails sank into the fabric of your dress as he looked at your chest bouncing in front of his face. Fuck, you were gorgeous. He wanted to be with you and he had dreamed of your fucking him, sitting on his face and smothering him, but shit, he wasn't expecting that. He had come just before and still, you felt insanely good.

Your lips twitched into a mischievous smile, “Do you like it?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, so fucked out you only tensed more.

“Good,” you chimed happily, kissing his mouth before leaning to nibble on his earlobe again. “Fuck, I wanna come hard on your cock, show you how good you make me feel.” He shuddered, holding you closer to him. Every word of yours was a moan, he believed you, but he wanted to hear you unfold. “Would you like that? Should we make a mess?”

“Definitely, yes.”

His lips brushed your neck near your hairline and you scratched his shoulders, jumping on his lap as much as your embrace allowed you to. You didn't need much, you had been holding on for so long and the way he pierced you inside was just perfect. It didn't take much to relent the control and your moan pitched, higher and harder with his poking inside, adding to the lewd sounds and the lascivious thought of his balls squashed beneath you as you jumped on him, and you popped.

Jimin was focused on your boobs bouncing nearly on his face when you squealed. He glanced up, avid to finally see you come, but in your scream, he felt wet.

He looked down as your moans subsided and touched his stomach down to where your sexes met. He was wet, like a glass of water had just been thrown there.

“Woah,” he breathed, bewildered.

“Is that okay?” You asked, winded.

“That’s fucking okay,” he rasped, at a loss for words. He had never seen that before and you didn't give him time to think about it.

Your hypnotizing hips kept going as you raised his chin to kiss him. “That’s how good you feel,” you moaned, out of breath. “That’s how hot you are. Fuck, that’s how much I wanted to ride your cock.”

You grabbed his head to kiss him deeply, pushing your tongue in again to lick and flick inside his mouth. Your head was spinning as you got lost, scratching up to his scalp to keep him in place for your pussy to swallow and ride him without a break.

Until you broke away with a whine, “I’m not done.”

“Keep going,” was his instant reply, glistening eyes boring into yours.

“Can you come with me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You feel really good but I’ve never done it like this before. I’ve no idea.”

Your lips curved with a hint of mischievousness as you brushed his sweaty hair out of his forehead to kiss him there, “I’d like to feel you coming again.”

“Me too,” he leaned into your touch with a sigh, kissing you back when you searched for his lips. “Pleasure yourself, I’ll follow.”

You smiled at his proposition, sliding up and down his shaft with ease. It felt good but you had to build your tension again and to know you had a green light to do as you pleased instantly sparked you. He really seemed to be your type.

You bit his pouty lip gently and dragged a hand of his from your waist to your ass. “Rub it for me.”

The dress had climbed to your waist and he took a moment to palm your round asscheek, feeling how it contracted with every swing of your hips. You were chasing a second orgasm and he groped you with a smile, happily thinking to himself it was a blessing he had come first. Now you could just use him without worries.

And he wanted to help you do it, so he slid his fingers closer to your rim. Your constant jumping got you the rub you asked for, and you squirmed, trying to get more without sacrificing his cock pounding inside you.

He was entranced, seeing your expression riddled with pleasure as he rubbed a bit harder, and soon you clenched hard. So hard he looked down expectantly, the way your body moved blowing his mind irreparably. He was yet to see your tits, but the way he wanted to eat them—

You pressed your lips to his almost anxiously, stopping your movements to stay on his lap and kiss him. He wondered why you had stopped, but your kiss stole his whole reasoning. You were reaching deep, touching corners of him he didn’t know were accessible so easily. But it was unfair to call what you were doing to him easy, it was definitely something only you could do. And in the midst of having his whole mind and body overrun by you, he wondered if he’d ever be able to forget you.

“I have one last request,” you smiled, still so close he nuzzled your skin as he thought that he'd give you whatever you asked for. “Eat my tits so I can come.”

His brain seriously glitched as he looked at you, your smile only furthering the downtime. The sway of your hips entranced him again as you slowly picked the rhythm back up with your eyes set on him. Your tongue peeked between your lips and the corners of your lips twitched slyly — it got you so high knowing that you could make him dazed like that. Everything about his expression and the way he looked down at your cleavage turned you on, and you were the happiest to make it even worse.

But as you tried to pull the dress straps down your shoulders to get more of your chest free, the fabric offered resistance. It distracted you from what mattered and Jimin didn’t like that. Quite the opposite; he liked that even if he glitched and forgot how to use his mouth other than to drool, you were still free to keep going, riding him to your heart’s content. But knowing you wanted his mouth on your breasts and that you were struggling enough that it was ruining your pleasure was unacceptable.

He didn’t think; he gripped the fabric by the deep cleavage and pulled the straps effortlessly over your shoulders along with your bra. Your breasts easily overflowed from your padless red bra and he was in awe. Your tits were moving lusciously along with your body straddling him and his thought process stopped again.

The way he looked at you upped your arousal another notch right before he buried his face in your boobs, pressing them to either side of his face. His thumbs instantly squeezed and rubbed your nipples and your hips bucked, pleasure shooting through you in a way that had you bouncing. And as you did, his come mixed with your slick, dripping down onto him and making you shudder from head to toe.

“Fuck,” you moaned, at the tip of the spear as you looked down at him trying to lick both boobs at the same time. He clearly liked their size, loving the way he could reach both as long as he grabbed them together. “You feel that?” He hummed right as his tongue darted out to lick you yet again. “Fuck,” you dragged, rolling your hips again with a hiccuped movement. “I want you to cover my walls white.”

“I will,” he pulled away to look at you with dark glistening eyes. “Don’t stop, I fucking will.”

He was twitching inside you, holding his orgasm at bay. He could do it better now that he had already come once and looking at you, he knew he wouldn’t fail you this time. It was a wonder to him how he was on edge so soon, but it didn’t matter. Because he was with you, giving you pleasure, touching you and eager to see and feel you unravel again.

Moreover, you actually asked him to do one of his favorite things in the world. He looked down at the precious gorgeous treasure in his hands and couldn’t help himself. He had to play with them, to squeeze, to lick them and bite them, and feel every time you squirmed. Every moan, every shudder, your fingers sinking in his hair to keep him there, and he stayed gladly. It had him twitching like crazy, hanging on a dangerous balance between too much stimulation and just barely enough until you screamed.

He meant to look down to see you coming this time, but as you pressed him to your chest so hard he could barely breathe, there was no way he’d oppose you. Also, he was in heaven, so he didn’t want to. You were squeezing him so well, gripping him so firmly while you squirted around him that it was bliss to finally let go. He breathed you in, perfume and feminine scent imbued together on your chest, right as he rutted into you.

Your orgasm was powerful, taking such a grip on you, that you didn’t realize you were screaming and possibly suffocating him until dozens of seconds later. By then, you could still feel him twitching inside you but what had you biting on your lip was the way he mumbled your name. His eyes were closed, he looked fucked out and exhausted after trying to reach deep inside you, and after being drained of his last drop, your name was the last word spilling out of his lips.

It made you want to hold him and never let go.

You nuzzled him and then reached to kiss his sweaty forehead. As you hugged him, you realized through your haze how much you trusted him. You knew you did it professionally, but now you felt like it was wholehearted. Being vulnerable and intimate was always a difficult choice for you, but this was nice. And good. And wholesome. You sighed.

But as you both recovered your breath and came to, you became aware of being all sticky, hot, and sweaty, and that as soon as you got up, it would get worse. You didn’t want to move, but reality would come knocking soon, and hopefully not literally.

You kissed his forehead again as if to wake him up, and he palmed your waist and lower back gently. That was when you felt confident enough to get up, immediately reaching for the Kleenex box on the desk to put tissues in between your legs right before passing him a few.

You cleaned yourself as best you could and rearranged your dress before turning to him to help him, but he was already clean and putting his clothes back on. You reached for your underwear with a mute sigh; you needed a shower badly.

You tried combing your hair with your fingers and froze when you saw him effortlessly putting every piece of clothing in place, his hair so beautiful it looked like it had just been styled. You were probably gaping because when you blinked, he was already smiling and brushing your hair gently over your chest as if he was enamored by it.

You didn’t know what to say. “I need a shower,” you smiled sheepishly as if to justify why you looked unruly right now and why your hair was being difficult. You felt immediately silly; why would Jimin care about your hair? He lowered his hand though, and you nodded, “I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait,” he voiced when you were already grabbing your purse from the floor and turning to leave. He was running his fingers through his hair in a gesture seemingly detached, but you knew him better by now. He might have been nervous. “I want to invite you to mine but it would be a problem because of photographers and all that.”

“That’s okay.”

You spoke before you could think, but your cheeks still reacted in time. You knew he noticed your blushing but there was no teasing to be found in him, just something akin to a purpose. And it made you raise your eyebrows, reviewing what he had just said.

You licked your lips, “Would you like to come to mine?”

He instantly grinned and closed the distance between you, then cupped your cheeks, “Thought you’d never ask.”

All you saw was his endearing smile right before he kissed you.

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #update #ao3 fanfic #SX Seoul series #bts jimin #park jimin #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin bts #jimin #jimin x you #lo1k-diamonds writes 💎

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bluehoodiewoozi · 11 months

Text

The Cat-Parent Trap

Alternatively: Rocket, Mango, and the Idiots in Love

Vernon Chwe x Reader (gender not specified i think? i hope?)

Genre: fluff (figurative & literal)

Word Count: 8.3k

Wanings: some cursing / adult language. alcohol & drunk decisions. some mild jealousy. there are so many cats.

[Series: Serenity Street 17] You start feeding what appears to be a pair of neighbourhood cats. Turns out they belong to the cute guy living in the rooftop apartment.

Note: is this a Vernon romance fic or a typed-out version of my never-ending dreams of getting a cat with Vernon? no clue.

“Hello there, little guys.”

Your melodious greeting was met with an equally musical chorus of meows, purrs and chirps. The otherwise empty hallway filled with the soft patting of tiny feet, the footsteps getting louder as they rushed to greet you, never once forgetting to let out another chirp to tell you they missed you.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the way the smaller black one rubbed itself against your leg, jumping up a little to reach the tips of your fingers for affection. The other, white cat was more passive, merely meowing at you impatiently as she sat down barely a metre from you.

Though you expected no proper answer, you still asked them if they were hungry and how their days had been as you made your way over to the door. The apartment door – a proud golden number 4B shining on it – came unlocked with ease, even with the cats pressing against your calves and bumping against the door frame.

“Give me a moment,” you told them and opened the door.

The sight of the two cats running in like it was their home to begin with greatly amused you. Before you could even blink, the black cat had settled down on your couch, snuggling into your cushion. The other one jumped onto your kitchen chair, expectantly staring at you.

You couldn’t help but wonder where they really lived. Were they just stray cats from the neighbourhood that one of the inhabitants had let in out of pity? Or did they have an owner somewhere in this building? Maybe it was the new couple upstairs: Wonwoo did seem rather fond of cats. Or perhaps they belonged to the grumpy guy from 1B – he seemed to rather adore animals as well.

Whoever their owner was or was not, you did not have the heart to turn these cats away when they asked for snacks so sweetly.

At this point, it was second nature to toe off your shoes and head to the kitchen cabinet to pull out a small bag of treats and a bigger bag of dry food for cats.

All it took was just the sound of the bags being taken out and both cats were once again circling you as if you deserved all the worship in the world. They only calmed down once you had placed the food in the little bowl you had bought for them a few weeks back.

“Eat well,” you sang, and got started on your evening routine. You liked having these cats around – the two-bedroom apartment seemed less empty when the cats visited for an evening.

Sometimes they stayed the night, with the white one happily curled up on your window sill as the black one in a comfy spot at the foot of the bed. You deeply cherished these nights and once again a thought came to mind: who was the one that got to enjoy their cuddles on most night – on the nights when they weren’t with you?

But even with these thoughts plaguing you, you felt a little selfish. You liked these cats. Asking around for their owner could lead to never seeing them again. And then what? You’d have to get a cat or two of your own.

Wide-eyed, you paused in the middle of washing your teeth and stared at your reflection. “That’s not a bad idea.”

A small accusatory meow came from the bathtub, where the white cat had somehow settled down for the evening. You took that as a firm ‘no’ and continued your routine.

Once you were settled in bed, the black cat joined you. Her paws immediately got busy kneading your blanket. You concluded that she either had no sense of loyalty or she really liked you.

You now found that sleep came easier with the cats in your apartment.

The next morning, you did your routine and let the cats out as you stepped out of the apartment. Their little chirps accusing you of abandoning them for the day just about broke your heart. But the show must go on, and they weren’t your cats to begin with. You sighed and began turning the key.

“Wait…” a low voice echoed in the hallway.

Your head whipped around to face towards the staircase. A guy stood there, eyes wide as saucers.

It took you a moment to figure out what he was looking at so intently. It wasn’t you – unless he had a thing for feet –, so it must have been the two cats standing next to you.

To your surprise, the cats seemed equally baffled to see the guy there, their chirps ending momentarily as they stared right back at him as if they’d seen a shadow of their dark past.

“This is where you guys were the whole night?” the guy finally spoke, finally relaxing his posture and frown.

As your eyes adjusted to the light, you found yourself in awe. This man looked like someone straight off a coming of age film poster. Did someone this good-looking really live in this complex?

No. There was no way. You would remember this face. He must have been visiting someone on the 6th floor.

But then… why would he care about the cats?

“Do you live here?” you blurted out without much thinking, barely able to keep yourself from slapping a hand over your mouth right after. “Sorry, that was kind of rude. I–”

He chuckled. “I live upstairs, in 6A.” Your knees almost buckled when he walked over to you, picking up one of the cats. “And these guys, they live with me.”

Your mouth felt incredibly dry. “They’re your cats then?”

“Yep,” he nodded and fondly scratched the black cat under the chin, “raised this one myself. Her name is Rocket.”

You really didn’t mean to snort at the name. “Your cat’s name is Rocket?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered by your evident judgement. “I like it, she likes it, … my roommate likes it a bit too much.”

“Roommate?”

Now you put the two and two together: the elusive pair of guys in the rooftop apartment, 6A. The guys that were rarely seen outside the apartment because they – or so it was rumoured by Seungkwan and Mingyu – were unapologetic introverts. That would explain why you had never seen this guy in all your months of living here.

“What were you guys doing here?” he asked the cats so softly you barely heard it. He never once ceased to scratch them. “I was all worried the whole night and here you guys are, cozying up to the pretty neighbour.”

You wondered if it was always this hot in the hallway. When was the last time somebody opened a window here? Maybe you needed to go out and get some fresh air.

“Oh, right!” You slapped your own forehead and locked the door, giving it one last tug to check if you had really finished the task, before dashing down the stairs.

“It was nice to meet you!” you called over your shoulder all the while running. You’d be damned if you were late to work because of a man and his cats.

Once you were out of his line of sight and out of the building, you paused for a moment. The moment replayed in your head like a broken record and you slapped your cheeks to wake yourself. Why did you have to be so damn awkward?

You couldn’t help but sulk as the reality sank in on your way to work.

“I didn’t even ask for his name.”

A week passed without the two cats. An uncharacteristically depressing and boring and long week.

You had grown so used to their chirps and meows every other day. You had even bought a new bag of treats for them like you always did on Thursdays – even though the old one was still half-full.

When you made your way home after a walk on Saturday and saw a lump on your doorstep, you froze. Anxious hope filled you as you inspected it from afar. One step, two steps… On the third step, your anxiety turned into joy.

“Rocket!” you called out to her sweetly and rushed over to pet her head. She purred at your touch. “I was starting to fear you moved or something.”

She only meowed in explanation and stretched while you unlocked the door. She was in before you could even fully open the door – you laughed at the familiarity of it all. Even if it was just Rocket with no sign of the other cat, you were glad to have this moment.

You gave her treats and food before bringing your soft blanket to the sofa so you could commence your favourite Saturday activity: cuddling your neighbour’s cats while watching whichever TV show called to you the most.

It seemed that Rocket was just as glad to partake in the routine. She jumped into your lap before you could even turn the TV on, already purring and kneading the fabric. Maybe she missed you as much as you missed her.

Would her owner be mad if you stole her from him?

You shook the thought out of your head and pressed play on your show. The familiar atmosphere and routine were exactly what you needed to relax after a long week.

Then, just as you reached the halfway point of the first episode, a knock sounded on your door. You decided to ignore it at first – the show was just getting good – but then a second knock sounded, a little louder.

With a sigh, you gently lifted Rocket off you – not before she could accusingly meow at you – and headed for the door. The door opened to reveal her handsome owner.

“Hi,” he started somewhat awkwardly, lifting a hand to give you something similar to a wave, “is my cat here?”

You didn’t really want to give Rocket back, honestly. But you reminded yourself that you were a law-abiding citizen and nodded. Still – maybe you could use this situation to fix a different mistake.

“I’ll give you your cat if you give me your name,” you told him.

His eyes widened at those words. “I– What?” He laughed in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

You nodded. “You can’t expect me to give Rocket to a stranger, can you?”

He seemed to contemplate for a moment, his brows furrowing in thought. “You… don’t know my name?” Seeing you shake your head, his frown deepened. “How? We’ve been neighbours for months.”

“I know almost everyone in this block,” you informed him, “so, it’s clearly not my fault. Maybe you’re just too introverted.”

“... Fair.” He straightened his back and turned his frown into a smile. “Hi, I’m Vernon from 6A.

You smiled back brightly. “Hi, I’m–”

“(Y/n) from 5D, I know,” he finished for you before even realising what he said. When the realisation hit, he matched your wide eyes and began spouting apologies: “Oh, I don’t mean like I’m a stalker or anything– I just– I swear I don’t–”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his awkward ramblings. Without another word, you opened the door wider and invited him in with a small gesture of your hand. He breathed out in relief and wandered inside, almost immediately zeroing in on the black ball of fur on your sofa.

“Rocket,” he called to her. The cat’s ear twitched but she made no move to look at him. He sighed. “Rocket!” Still nothing. He turned to you with an apologetic look. “She’s usually more cooperative.”

“I’m sure she’s just very comfy,” you told him with a chuckle. “Her belly’s full and the blanket’s soft, so she’s probably just being lazy.”

Vernon’s brows furrowed again. “You fed her?”

“I always do.” You shrugged. “It’s either that or she steals the cheese off my sandwiches. I chose the lesser evil.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement. “Clever.”

With that, he toed off his shoes and walked over to the cat, picking her up. The cat didn’t seem to like the handling much, lowly growling before settling against his chest. Vernon made a show of bouncing her before looking at you somewhat accusingly, “So that’s why she’s been getting so heavy.”

You had no excuses.

He laughed again. “It’s fine. It’s not like I’ve been saving on treats either.” As he put on his shoes again, his cat in his arms, he told you, “I’m sorry she got out again, by the way. I thought I cat-proofed our apartment, but she’s clearly smarter than I am. I’ll try to figure something out. Sorry again, for the inconvenience.”

Then, with a friendly “goodnight!”, Vernon was gone again, and Rocket with him. Back to lonely weekend depression you fell.

When another week passed without a cat nor a boyfriend, you reached a conclusion: it was time for a pet.

On your day off, you walked to the pet store and headed straight for the rodent cages and fish aquariums. The small animals scurried and swam around in their enclosures, perhaps hoping you’d choose them.

But you were hesitating. After ten minutes of just watching them, contemplating if you were more of a hamster or a rat girl, you sighed and gave up. Sure, a rodent would be a good beginner pet, but, god, you missed the cat.

With a defeated frown, you turned around to leave. Without looking at where you were going, you walked into a warm body. Stumbling back in surprise, you began rambling apologies.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” a familiar laugh sounded. You looked up from the floor to sigh in relief when you recognised Vernon. He offered a wave and a smile. “You okay? You seemed pretty deep in thought.”

You shrugged. “Just contemplating my options, I guess.”

“Options?” Vernon wondered and adjusted the bag of cat food in his arms. He glanced at the cages behind you before understanding dawned on him. “Are you thinking of getting a hamster?”

“Or maybe a chinchilla,” you half-joked. “They seem pretty cuddly too.”

“Oh.” His smile dropped as realisation hit him hard. “You liked having Rocket visit you, didn’t you? I stole your cuddle buddy. I’m sorry.”

For someone who you had formally only known for a week, Vernon was awfully good at reading your mind. You decided to ignore the thought and nodded, trying to seem as playful as you could. “I’m a little mad at you, actually.”

“Can I…make it up to you?” he wondered after a moment, eyes sparkling.

For a moment, you contemplated telling him a date would be a great compensation. It wouldn’t hurt to shoot your shot, right? And then you could maybe have both: a boyfriend and a cat to cure your loneliness. A double win!

But before you could find the courage to even jokingly ask your handsome neighbour out, Vernon came up with his own idea: “You know, I volunteer at a cat shelter in the city. I’m going there tomorrow, actually. Maybe you’d like to come along? Sort of like a date, if you want.” He mistook your silent processing for hesitation, short of rejection, and quickly added, “Maybe you’ll even a find yourself a cat there. Who knows? Doesn’t hurt to try, right?”

You couldn’t have said yes fast enough.

“Ta-da!” Vernon cheered somewhat monotonously as you stepped into the shelter after him. “Welcome to Kiki’s Cat House.”

As he led you further into the lobby, he continued, “I’ve been volunteering here for years. It’s like a second family, honestly.”

“So, where are all the cats?” You looked around the empty room: only a counter, some shelves, a houseplant and beanbags.

He chuckled at your impatience before taking your hand – you tried really hard to not think about the gesture – and leading you into a hallway. There, he opened a door, revealing a room full of spacious cages.

“This is where we keep the spicy, the grumpy, the horny and the antisocial,” he explained as you walked into the room. “They’re gonna take some socialising before we can let them hang out with the other cats, but we’re trying our best. Some of them are just plain assholes, though. This one—” he accusingly pointed at a scruffy orange one-eyed cat, “tried to take my hand off last month. I had to get stitches.”

“Sounds painful.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m sure he’s had to go through a worse life than I. I forgave him this time.”

After letting you wander and look around for a while, he nudged you. “Do you want to go see where the fun happens?”

“And by ‘fun’ you mean…?”

He chuckled, took your hand again and led you to a room across the hall. Your jaw dropped at the sheer amount of cats wandering around the cosy room. Some were napping on a sofa. Others were climbing on carefully crafted carpeted shelves on the walls. A fluffy grey cat rushed to meet the two of you – or just Vernon, most likely – and chirped cheerfully as your companion crouched down to give her endless head pats.

“Hello there, June,” he greeted with a smile and picked up the cat, straightening back to his full height while holding her to his chest. “She’s kind of new here but she’s a cuddly one.”

When he leaned a little closer to you, you took the invitation to raise your hand and scratch under the cat’s chin. She let out a loud purr at your actions, all the while kneading the fabric of Vernon’s grey hoodie.

“Who knows,” he mumbled, “maybe you’ll want to take her home at the end of the day?”

You chuckled. “It sounds like you have an agenda.”

“Yeah – I need you to stop overfeeding my and my roommate’s cats,” he joked. “They’re chubby as it is.”

“They’re the perfect cuddle size,” you argued.

Vernon offered you a playful glare. “Do you want to tell that to my vet the next time I’m taking them for a check-up? I got scolded last time.”

You laughed. “Alright. Fair. I’ll try to give them less treats the next time they visit. Is the white cat your roommate’s then?”

While waiting for his answer, you crouched down to offer your hand to a black-and-white cat passing by. He gave your fingers a sniff, did a little twirl before pressing his head against your palm for a moment, and then continued on his journey to the food bowls.

Vernon watched him closely, probably already making a list of tasks to accomplish before leaving, and answered absent-mindedly, “Yeah. Snowflake. Jun got him from this shelter. I got Rocket from here too. That’s Kiki, by the way. He’s the shelter’s mascot.”

“And here I was hoping he could be the one,” you joked, already reaching out to another curious cat.

Vernon smiled at you before placing June down onto the floor again. “I’m sure we’ll find your perfect cat. Don’t worry.” As he was crouching next to you, his eyes searched the room for familiar faces. His eyes lit up all of a sudden. “Mango!”

“Mango?” you wondered.

He nodded enthusiastically before practically crawling over to a cardboard box with a door hole on its side. Curious, you followed after him, your heart melting when you saw exactly what had caught your neighbour’s attention: a calico cat lying in the box, on a yellow fleece blanket, nursing two adorable kittens – a black one with white socks and a fluffy orange one. The mother let out a little purr when Vernon reached over to pet her head.

“She had kittens last month,” he whispered as if to not disturb her peace. He glanced around. “I guess the other cats aren’t troubling them too much, otherwise the staff wouldn’t have let her back here.”

“They’re so tiny,” you whispered, eyes sparkling at the sight. “I didn’t realise kittens could be so small.”

“They’re already pretty big, actually,” he chuckled. “You should’ve seen them when they were born. I could’ve fit both of them in my palm.” After another minute of watching the mother and her children, Vernon nudged your side. “Come on, we have work to do. If you do your chores, maybe she’ll let you play with them.”

“Yes, dad,” you joked and joined him in the tasks. But even as you busied yourself, you couldn’t stop looking back towards the box. You had fallen in love with the sweet Mango.

As if, once again, reading your mind, Vernon smiled at you empathetically. “If you want to adopt Mango, you’ll have to take the kittens too. Or wait a little. They should be old enough to be adopted in less than two months.”

You pouted; you weren’t sure you could handle three cats. For the rest of the little date, even Vernon’s blatant flirting and adorable smiles couldn’t cheer you up and bring you out of your thoughts. And so, you left the shelter with a regretful heart.

“You know,” Vernon tried to cheer you up on the way back, “if you want, you can adopt all three of them. Kittens aren’t too difficult to raise. She’ll do most of the work.”

“But I don’t know if I’m ready for that responsibility,” you whispered dejectedly as you slumped into the seat of the bus. “Three cats is a lot more than one.”

“Well,” he sighed softly and reached over to hold your hand, “if you change your mind, I’d be happy to help you bring them home.”

Little did he know the feeling of his hand in yours, fingers interlocked, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, was enough to distract you from your thoughts.

The gnawing regret in your heart did not go away until Wonwoo and Eunmi drove you to the shelter three days later. The engaged couple was more than enthusiastic to help you bring Mango and her kittens home.

You had planned on calling Vernon and inviting him along too, but in the excitement of this new step, you completely forgot. Instead of him, you had turned to Wonwoo, Eunmi and Jihoon (the grumpy guy from 1B) who had all pitched in to help you get your apartment cat-ready. It was the three of them that had encouraged you to take this step anyway – it was only fair that they help.

And now, on this Saturday evening, you could cuddle with your very own cat as a drama played on the TV. You couldn’t stop smiling at the fact that she already trusted you enough to snuggle with you under the blanket, hidden from view, and let her kittens wander around your bedroom without supervision. Who knows, you thought, maybe she’s trying to rest from the responsibilities of motherhood. You couldn’t blame her.

Then, like déjà-vu, a knock sounded on your front door in the midway point of the first episode. Unwilling to leave your comfortable spot, you tried to ignore it. A second knock sounded louder, this time followed by Vernon’s voice, “Hey, can I come in?”

You sighed and called out, “The door’s unlocked.”

“Is it?” he wondered and tried the knob. To his surprise, the door opened immediately. He frowned. “Dude, I don’t think that’s safe. Do you always leave your door unlocked like this?”

He closed the door behind himself and walked into the apartment, keeping his eyes down.

You chuckled. “No, do you think I’m stupid? Wonwoo and Eunmi only left a little while ago – I didn’t get around to locking the door after them. Was a little preoccupied.”

He hummed, still not looking at you as he untied his shoes.

“So,” your eyes narrowed at him, “what brings you to my humble abode?”

“Uh,” he sighed deeply and looked up, “I came to tell you something. I… I got a call from the shelter. They said that…” His frown deepened at the way your eyes sparkled with what he assumed must have been hope. “They said that Mango and her kittens got adopted today. I’m sorry," he breathed out, eyes sad as he cautiously watched you, as if afraid of your reaction. When you only shrugged and nodded, his brows furrowed even more. “Aren’t you upset? I thought you wanted to adopt her yourself…”

It was only then that you realised you had, in fact, forgotten to call him and tell him your plan. He must have thought you'd be heartbroken at the news. Maybe he had even asked the people at the shelter to keep Mango for you. Suddenly, your heart ached at the sight of his sorrowful expression. “Vernon…”

“It’s okay, though,” he quickly interrupted. “We can always go and see if you like any of the other cats." You couldn't find the words to say and once again he took your silence for sadness and rushed to comfort you. "Actually, there’s this girl called Citrus. I’m sure you would like her too. We could go see her tomorrow, if you wanted.” You remained silent, trying to figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry at his thoughtfulness. “(Y/n)?”

You couldn’t take it any more. Instead of saying anything, you gestured for him to come over to you on the sofa. Obediently, he followed your orders and approached you, sitting down next to you.

Once he was seated, you took his hand and led it over to where your cat was snuggled into your stomach under the yellow blanket. Vernon’s brows shot up in surprise.

“Is Rocket here again? I swear she was at home…”

You laughed and rolled down the blanket to reveal two pointy ears, one grey and one orange. His jaw dropped as he reached over to pet her head. Eyes shining, he asked, “You got a cat?”

“Not just any cat,” you told him in a conspiratorial whisper and rolled the blanket down even further until he recognised her calico pattern.

He gasped. “Mango!”

You giggled at his reaction and the way he immediately leaned down to coo at her, her purrs getting louder by the second.

“So,” he realised, smiling brightly, “it was you who adopted her!”

You nodded proudly and gave her a little scratch on the back. “I couldn’t stand the thought of just leaving her there. So, Wonwoo drove me to the shelter and we brought her to her new home. She seems pretty happy to be here.”

“She’s already cuddling with you,” he mused. “It took me weeks to get Rocket to even let me pet her.”

“Maybe she was waiting for me,” you whispered, happy at the thought.

“And the kittens?” he suddenly wondered, sitting up straight. You pointed to your bedroom door.

“Jihoon and I spent the entire morning kitten-proofing my room so we could let them loose there. But I’m sure they’ve gotten to some trouble already.”

Vernon frowned, seeming almost offended. “You called Jihoon but not me?”

“I was going to call you,” you swore, “but it’s been an exciting day so I just–”

“Have you named the kittens yet?” he changed the subject suddenly, as if the previous topic bothered him too much to even consider talking about it. “I don’t think the shelter staff gave them names yet.”

You smiled. “Well, the black one is called Socks.”

“... Because of his white socks?”

“Obviously,” you nodded. “And the ginger one's called Peaches – I guess Jihoon wanted to keep her name on theme.”

“Jihoon named her?” Vernon seemed surprised before nodding. “They’re both very cute names.”

“You can go and play with them, if you want,” you offered with a smile, hoping to cheer him up because he still seemed a little out of it. “Or you can bring them here for a cuddle. I don’t mind.”

“Nah,” he sighed and reached over to pet Mango again, “I’m sure they’re sleeping already. Wouldn’t want to bother them.”

Your lips pouted at his dejected tone. “Do you… want to watch a movie with me? We can cuddle Mango together.”

He lips curled into a half-smile at the idea. “I’d love that.”

“Great,” you cheered, “you can pick the movie.”

(And perhaps he wasn’t as good at picking out movies as he would’ve liked to think: you were leaning against his shoulder in a sleepy haze half-way through the movie.

Still, he couldn’t be mad at you – not when he’d been waiting for a moment like this ever since he saw you step into the building on a Monday ten months ago. He’d been smitten ever since he saw your smile for the first time – even if the smile had been directed at Jihoon giving you the apartment key instead of him hiding behind Mingyu in the hallway.

Even though he’d wanted to watch this movie for weeks, he couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering over to you instead: resting against his side, curled up in your blanket with Mango spread over your lap, a dazed smile on your face as you stared at the screen.

Feeling his gaze on you, you twisted your neck to look up at him from your position that made you seem impossibly smaller than him – even if your height difference was minimal to none in reality. Your smile never faded as you looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear what he had to say.

Your new position had your nose brush against his ever so slightly, but it didn’t seem to affect you as much as it did him – at least not in your sleepy daze. He wasn’t sure how you could look so peacefully cheerful while he worried his heart might break out of his rib cage at your proximity.

His eyes flitted between your eyes and your lips; he was hesitating. Just one lean and he could cross another dream off his list. Less than an inch.

He gulped and tore his gaze away, forcing it to focus back on the screen. You soon settled back into your previous position, your head on his shoulder, cheek pressed against his collarbone. He closed his eyes and willed his heart to slow down before it betrayed him.)

Your blissfully calm day was once again interrupted by a knock on the door. You sighed and made your way to the source of the sound.

“Coming, coming,” you called out to the person on the other side. When you unlocked the door and finally saw him, you couldn’t help but smile. “Why is it always you?”

Vernon could only offer a shrug and a hopeless smile. “You don’t seem too bothered by it though.”

“Don’t tell Rocket, but,” you leaned in closer to whisper, “you’re my favourite visitor.”

He grinned wider at that, his ears taking on a red shade, before he cleared his throat. “Um, so, speaking of Rocket…”

He didn’t need to speak another word because you knew exactly where this was going. You sighed. “Did she get out again?” He nodded. “Do you need help finding her?”

“No, I just assumed she’d be here,” he answered, smile dropping into a worried frown. “She isn’t?”

“I definitely haven’t seen her today.”

“Can you check?” he asked, looking nervous all of a sudden. Sensing your confusion, he quickly added, “Just in case? She’s good at hiding so maybe she’s snuck past you or something.”

You agreed and let him inside – if nothing else, it was at least an excuse to spend time with him. He only made it barely halfway through your apartment before letting out an excited cheer: “There you are!”

You blinked in surprise. “Found her?”

“Found her and you’re gonna want to see this,” he called back before just about running (or, really, speed walking) over to you.

As you watched him with wide eyes, he took your hand and practically dragged you over to your bedroom. And there, low and behold, cosily snuggled up on the bed with your own cats was Rocket.

You sighed and offered Vernon a half-accusatory glare. “Is she your cat or mine?”

He shrugged. “I’d like to think she’s mine but– Aw, she’s cleaning the kittens!”

You watched the four cats snuggle even closer together, like a little family: the adults cleaning the kittens who let out accusatory meows and happy purrs. It made you almost jealous in a way.

“How did she even get in?” you wondered to distract yourself from the fact that you were clearly severely touch-starved.

“How did she get out?” Vernon mumbled in similar disbelief before sighing. His shoulders slumped in defeat. “Now I feel bad about bringing her home.”

You nodded. “They’re getting along so well. It’s weird, almost.”

“Yeah,” his brows furrowed in thought, “I thought they’d for sure get in a fight the first time they met. Are you sure this is her first time here since Mango came?”

“If it isn’t, I certainly was not aware of the other times.”

Vernon breathed out a little huff before nudging you. “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“No, why?”

A shy smile appeared. “We could eat together. I mean, Rocket doesn’t seem to have any plans for leaving, and I’m not leaving without her, so…”

“Well, if Mingyu’s words are anything to go by, I am not letting you into my kitchen,” you declared with a chuckle as his face morphed into a grimace of offended disbelief. “I’m serious. I heard you almost burnt down his apartment once.”

“In my defence–!” he loudly started before sighing and nodding. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.”

You laughed and nudged his side. “Come on, you can help me make cookies.”

Dumbfounded, he raised a brow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed in your kitchen.”

“Consider it a trial period. Besides, it’s not like you have anything better to do right now.”

(He didn’t have the heart to tell you he had a whole report due by the next day that he hadn’t even started yet. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make if it meant more time with you.)

[hey, do u have a cat tree yet?]

[this is vernon btw]

[i’ll take ur silence as a no]

You didn’t get around to answering his messages before he appeared at your door once again, this time carrying a giant IKEA bag on his shoulder. His trusty (but clearly not very loyal) companion Rocket stood at his feet also and greeted you with a meow, which Vernon was quick to mimic with a smile.

“Hello, you two,” you greeted with a laugh. “What’s with the IKEA bag?”

“Child support,” he told you simply and walked inside like he owned the place. He placed the giant bag in your kitchen and turned to smile at you brightly, proud of his work. When you only offered him a quizzical smile, he explained, “Food. A lot of cat food.”

You continued staring at him, absolutely confused. “But they’re not your kittens?”

He gestured towards Rocket who had jumped onto one of the kitchen chairs, patiently waiting for her treats. “Well, she seems to disagree, so here: at least a month’s worth of cat food.”

“I’m guessing you don’t accept returns?” He shook his head no. “Money?” He shook his head again, more aggressively, and you sighed. “Thank you, then. I’ll be sure to put the food to good use.”

“Good, because I’d honestly be a little upset if you didn’t,” he confessed before walking back out of your apartment, leaving the door open.

You looked after him in wonder before turning to Rocket. “Should I be worried?”

Before the cat could give you a conclusive answer aside from a tired blink, you heard a grunt in your hallway.

When you went to look, you found Vernon carrying an enormous cardboard box your way. He placed it down with a tired gasp and gave it an affectionate pat. “Your cat tree, Your Highness.”

“You–” Your jaw dropped. Not a single thought in sight; only a laugh of disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” He smirked. “You didn’t get my messages?”

“Oh, I got your messages,” you argued, “but I didn’t think you meant this. Where did you even get this thing? It looks like it’s going to be huge.”

He shrugged. “I have a friend.”

“A friend who gives out free giant cat trees?” you wondered.

He nodded somewhat hesitantly, his eyes narrowed in thought. “He does that sometimes, yeah. So,” he gave the box another pat, “shall we assemble it?”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” you mumbled and opened the box, already eyeing the pieces of furniture in horror. “Please tell me you’ll help put this together?”

He scoffed. “You don’t trust me in the kitchen and I don’t trust you with a screwdriver. So, yeah, I’m gonna stick around and build this for you.”

Just ten minutes later, all of the pieces of the cat tree were out of the box and waiting on your floor. The box itself had already been turned onto its side and occupied by a quartet of fluffy cats, only their eyes shining out of the darkness as they scrutinised Vernon slowly assembling their new home.

“So,” you started, while (much like your cats) watching him in fascination, “what’s the real reason?”

He glanced up, eyes wide. “For what?”

You gestured vaguely.

“I’m just trying to be nice,” he shrugged and turned back to his task.

“No one’s just this nice.”

“Maybe I am,” he mumbled.

“Vernon,” you tried again, reaching over to place your hand on his own, effectively pausing his movements, “why did you get me a cat tree? There’s no way you got this giant thing for free either, so the least you could do is at least tell me the truth.”

"I just–" Shoulders slumping, he took a deep breath before confessing, “Hearing you talk about how Wonwoo and Jihoon helped you bring the cats home and kitten-proof the bedroom and how they named the kittens– I just want to help too.” He frowned and sighed. “I just want you to be able to gush about me the way you talked about Wonwoo and Jihoon. Is that weird?” He grimaced before you could say anything. “Yeah, it’s weird. Very weird. But… I don’t know. That’s just how I feel.”

He forced a smile onto his face and finally looked you in the eyes. “Let me put it this way: I want to be an active part of your life and of this journey of yours. So, please, just… Just let me do this.”

Without another word, he turned back to his project. As if he hadn’t just spoken words that would leave you speechless for hours. But despite not finding anything to say to him, a squeeze to his hand still resting under yours had to be enough until you could give him the world.

Just like you, he barely said another word until he left the apartment, leaving behind a finished black cat tree. You wouldn’t hear from him again for days.

Vernon knew alcohol didn’t fix problems: it didn’t make anything disappear, it didn’t make anyone less upset, and it certainly wouldn’t magically give him the confidence to confess. But that knowledge didn’t stop him from going over to Chan’s apartment for a Friday night drink after three days of acting like you didn’t exist.

It’s not like he wanted to ignore you – really, he wanted to do anything but that. He watched enviously as Rocket slipped out of the door and down the stairs, headed straight for your apartment. He watched from afar as the black cat scratched at your door and meowed insistently before you opened the door and happily greeted her. He watched as you glanced around after, as if hoping to get a glance at him who had hidden behind the corner, afraid that he’d say something stupid if your eyes did meet.

He tried to tell himself that perhaps the silence that had followed his kind-of-sort-of confession three days ago hadn’t been one of disgust but rather of endearment. He didn’t dare to hope though. It was easier to just act like none of it happened.

After all, how embarrassing is it to buy a girl a cat tree and assemble it out of jealousy for your neighbours?

So, he drank. Shot after shot. Enough so that Chan and Seungkwan worriedly wrapped him in his jacket and gently led him back up the stairs. He vaguely remembered the latter sweetly reminding him that his apartment is on the 6th floor; not that he’d ever make it there.

Instead, to his own surprise (and the chagrin of his formerly sober self), he found himself standing in front of the door of 5D.

Without even acknowledging his actions, he raised his hand to knock on the door. Following a rhythm like always – just so you’d know it was him and not a stranger – he kept knocking until he heard your footsteps on the other side of the wall.

You opened the door and he blinked. Why was he here again?

“Vern?” you wondered, yawning. You glanced back at the clock on your living room wall before turning to him. “It’s like 2 am. What’s up?”

He wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying. His eyes were fully focused on your lips, so pouty and so, so soft. He suddenly remembered what had brought him to your door.

Growing worried as his silence, you waved a hand in front of his eyes to catch his attention. “Hey, did something hap–?”

Before you could finish your sentence, he leaned forward. Perhaps alcohol had, in fact, given him the courage he needed because he didn’t hesitate this time. He just leaned forward. It was so easy: one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, the other lifting to hold your cheek as he pressed his lips against yours just like he’d imagined for so many weeks now.

It was as if the touch of your lips alone sobered him up and he leaned back almost immediately, eyes wide in panic. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

But you weren’t mad – a little annoyed, perhaps, but mad at him? You didn’t have it in you to do that. You only laughed a little as he rambled apologies, his hands still in position because he wasn’t yet sober enough to realise, and then you took the leap.

You lifted a hand to grab the material of his shirt just below the collar and pulled him back towards you, all the way until his lips were against yours again. He melted into your affection, only pulling you closer as each second passed, unwilling to let this moment end.

When you finally pulled back, he was wearing a dopey smile, his half-lidded eyes sparkling with joy. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Mad at you?” you wondered and scoffed out a laugh. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I’m a dumb jealous–” He cut himself off mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing as something behind you caught his attention. “Is that Rocket?”

You followed his line of sight before humming in confirmation. “Yeah, I thought you let her out in the evening.”

“I never–” he began to argue before pausing. “Oh, I did. I did let her out. I watched you let her in. Oh.”

You stared at him. “On a scale from one to ten, how drunk are you right now?”

He frowned before whining. “I’m not drunk!”

“Vernon,” you said sternly, watching him in amusement as his frown softened into a tired pout and he nodded before confessing that he’d probably had a shot or two too many. You chuckled. “Do you want to stay over?

“I don’t want to intrude…”

“You woke me up at 2 am to kiss me dumb,” you reminded him, “I think we’re past the whole intruding debate. So, yes or no?”

He didn’t say another word, instead opting to lean closer to rest his head against your shoulder and hold you tight. You took that as the answer and led him inside.

For the first time in heavens-know-how-long, it’s the smell of waffles that wakes him up instead of Junhui’s shower singing. To his mild confusion, Vernon realises he’s woken up in your bed. Then, after a quick attempt of taming his bed hair, he stumbles out of your bedroom and over to the kitchen.

“Welcome back to life, Sunshine,” you joked at the sight of him as he slumped in your kitchen chair. The clock on the wall read 1:25 pm.

“Did I–” He frowned in confusion. “Did I sleep over?”

“You also got drunk, woke me up at 2 am, and kissed me,” you informed him with a teasing smile. His face flushed red immediately and he let out a whine before hiding his face in his hands.

It was a whole minute later that he dared to finally look at you again. “I’m sorry… Do you hate me?”

“Nope,” you said and placed a plate full of waffles in front of him before placing your finger under his chin and tilting it to affectionately kiss his lips. His eyes fluttered closed at the contact and memories of the previous night flooded his brain: the shared kisses, the hushed promises of real confessions, cuddles in your bed with Rocket and Mango trying to separate the two of you in a selfish pursuit of extra warmth.

When he opened his eyes again, stars seemed to be swimming in them as you confessed, “I quite like you actually.”

“I… I like you too,” he whispered back a fondly kept secret. “I’ve liked you since you first moved in – when you smiled at me because I helped Joshua carry your sofa up.”

It was your turn to feel a flustered burn on your cheeks.

The two of you spoke no more, basking in the blissful moment of acknowledgement, trying to wrap your heads around the implications of it all as you ate brunch together, side by side.

Rocket soon joined the two of you, yawning as she jumped onto her owner’s lap before looking at you with a look you knew all too well. You scoffed out a laugh and got up to fill her bowl. “I swear she’s going to eat me poor.”

Vernon chuckled. “You know, I think she’s here more than at home these days.” He smiled fondly at the sight of you petting Rocket’s head. When you finally joined him at the table again, he added, “ It’s like she’s decided she’s yours now.”

You saw the opportunity and took it. “You could be mine too.”

He could only smile and hide his burning cheeks. A laugh bubbled in his chest and before long he burst into joyous giggles: “This is the best morning of my entire life.”

“So, is that a no?” you teased, leaning closer to him. Tempting him.

Vernon was done hesitating. “I’d love to be yours.”

BONUS!

“I’m going to miss them so much,” you whispered, holding Peaches to your chest protectively. The orange kitten, like her brother, had grown big enough to go to a new home.

Vernon could only sigh as he watched you cuddle the kittens. “Baby, you will still have Mango.” An accusatory meow sounded from his side. He quickly added, “And Rocket is here too!”

“But the kittens won’t be,” you whined and pouted at him as if he was the person you’d have to convince to keep them. “It’s not the same.”

Vernon fought the urge to roll his eyes. “They’re going to be living in the same building as us, baby. You can visit them whenever you want.”

“No offence but I’m not climbing all the way to the 6th floor to see Socks,” you argued with a scoff. “I’m not even doing that for you.”

Vernon felt a little flattered at the implication that he was still more important to you than Socks.

“Maybe if you ask Wonwoo and Eunmi nice enough, they’ll bring Socks over for a play date every once in a while.”

But it was as if you hadn't heard him. “And the first floor is so far away too…”

“You can drop by Jihoon’s place any time you come home from work,” Vernon reminded you. “Please. Come on.”

“But–”

“Baby,” he spoke sternly, resting a hand on your shoulder to keep you grounded, “the kittens are going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. Mango’s going to be very happy to be freed from the shackles of motherhood – I mean, she’s been practically avoiding them all week.”

“But I’m going to miss them,” you whispered, “and the apartment’s going to feel so empty without them.”

“Well, you still have me and Rocket,” he tried to comfort you.

You frowned. “Yeah, but it’s not the same. You only visit.”

“I could… move in… with you and Rocket,” he suggested after a pause of thought. “I mean, we’re here almost all the time anyways.”

Vernon swore his knees felt weak all of a sudden when you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. “You’d do that?”

“Is that a serious question?” he joked and patted your head. “Your apartment’s, like, way better than mine. I’d be dumb not to.”

“Oh.” You seemed dejected, on purpose – not that he’d know that.

Eyes widening, he panicked. “I didn’t mean it like that! That was a joke! It was a joke and a very bad joke at that. I just meant that I– Why are you laughing?” He frowned before whining. “Don’t laugh at me!”

#seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen fic #vernon chwe scenarios #vernon scenarios #vernon x reader #vernon chwe

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velvrei · 1 year

Text

breathless

pairing : sub!xavier thorpe x fem!reader

summary : xavier wants to be choked and slapped

warnings : nsfw, choking, sub!xavier, begging, overstimulation if you quint, slapping, praise kink, degradation kink, use of nicknames (slut, etc.)

an addiction. that was the only proper word to describe how xavier thorpe felt about you.

the way you made him feel, the way your hands felt, the way you moaned his name as he pleases you after begging countless times, it was all apart of his addiction, his incessant devote to you.

but something just didn’t feel right.

you and him had a very tight relationship, you were always together, always touching, only cherishing each other.

but lately, xavier felt someone was off in the sex department. he was obviously always satisfied, but he felt the urge to spice it up. he needed more from you.

it was a normal thing when he approached you, as you sat in his dorm continuing homework, at his desk table. “y/n?”

his voice was timid, softer than usual which caused you to turn around and give him your attention. “what’s up?”

he sat slowly onto your bed, forming a soft dent as he placed his hands into his lap. you noticed his awkwardness, “you okay?”

you felt the need to tend to him as you usually did. you quickly put away your work and walked over to him and sat down in the empty space next to him.

you had no idea what this was leading to but you assumed it was something that was bothering him for a while.

“i feel like you’re holding back from me.” he blabbed suddenly. you raised an eyebrow, “holding back? how so?”

“well, whenever we have sex, don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing but i just feel like it’s missing something. it feels like you’re not telling me about some of the things you’re into.” his confession made you sigh. he wasn’t wrong, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable with what you were into.

“you’re right, xavier. i am holding back some of my kinks. i didn’t want to freak you out or scare you awa-“

“y/n?” he spoke, quickly, stopping your rambling. “yes, love?” his heart fluttered at the nickname.

“show me.”

you almost choked on your spit, not expecting such a direct statement to come from your shy and submissive boyfriend. “show you?”

“show me what you’re into. please,” the sound of him begging made you clench your thighs. you agreed before reminding him of the safe word and sitting yourself up.

you found yourself straddling his lap, he let alone whimpered at that as the friction made him harder than he already was.

he kissed you, hard. his hands snuck to your waist and then trailed downward, touching and grabbing your ass, taking the time to now kiss you deeper and with tongue at your surprise.

he was getting weaker by the second, his whining continued as you began rolling your hips against his to get some type of friction. his head fell onto your shoulder, “oh, baby,” he moaned after pulling from the kiss.

his sounds encouraged you. you grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked it earning a louder moan, trailing hot kisses down his neck. “you’re so pretty, xavi,” you praised, as you normally would.

“fuck,” he panted, “please, y/n.”

you smiled down at him and yanked on his hair once again earning a breathy whimper, “please what, baby?”

he cried, “please, touch me, please, y/n, please, baby,” he rambled nonsense in attempt to get you to give him more.

“someone’s needy today, hmm?” you spoke, but still gave him what he wanted, you began to unbuckle and take off his pants. “yes, yes, please, y/n, i’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he begged quietly as he felt your hands slide underneath his boxers and he sits up a bit so you could partially slide them off of his fragile frame.

xavier’s dick was throbbing and you could feel it, you grabbed it harshly. “fuck, y/n, can- you um-“ he could barely speak real words as the pressure was a release considering he had been hard at the thought of you for the past hour.

“can i what, baby?” he was at a loss for words. you pushed a couple strands of hair away from his now sweating face, placing soft kisses onto his neck. he whined when you compelled a hickey, almost giving up at his attempt to form words. “can you choke me, please, i- i want it so bad.”

you we’re thrilled to say the least. you started pacing his cock at a slow pace, one hand on his dick and the other sliding up his body and stopping at his throat. you gently gripped it, the pathetic sound he made was sent straight to your core.

“you’re so perfect, zavi,” you praise made him nervous as his dick pulsated in your hand, small drops of precum getting on your hand as you sped up your pace.

you wrapped your hand around his shaft and circled your thumb over his leaking tip. he cried out, lolling his head backward. fuck he was so hot, all bothered and riled up. you brought his face closer, kissing him eagerly so he let out a lewd whine.

“y/n, y/n, that feels so good,” he panted, almost completely out of breath, “faster, please, baby.” his begs egged you on, so you gave him what he partially what he wanted. you pumped him fast enough to make him moan but not as fast to where he could cum. he knew what you were doing, he’d played that game before.

it made you wet how such a tall, masculine man was in front of you, at your mercy with the most submissive look on his face and the spiciest words leaving his plump lips. “look at you. all hot and bothered. pathetic.” he felt embarrassed, but his dick was throbbing even harder in your hand so you took it as a good thing.

“y/n- fuck- say that again, please. that’s so hot,” those words awoke something inside of you, it made you feel as if it was now your job to control and degrade xavier and milk him for all he had. you let go of his throat and used both of your hands to pump his dick.

“you’re so fucking good, xavier. such a good boy. makes me think you’re a slut, too.” he let out the loudest moan you’d ever heard leave his mouth. “oh my fucking god, please. please, please say that again. jesus christ,” his words slurred together, he mumbled some kind of gibberish. you ran a finger through his silky brown hair, yanking it harshly as he moaned and groaned at the sudden pain and friction.

he felt himself nearing his edge, he was so close, but it couldn’t just happen he had to be taken there.

“y/n, i’m so close,” he whimpered, “can you- can you- um- can you slap me. please, it’s all i’m asking for from you.” you smiled and increased your pace, giving him a harsh slap across the face, then choking him once again. he yelled multiple swear words, gibberish sounding profanities and a long string of pornographic moans.

not even ten second after, he came with a loud cry, white sticky cum all over your hand. “so good. you did so well my love,” his head fell onto your shoulder, he was still cumming and he was making a huge mess all over your clothing and bed. he murmured a bunch of ‘thank you’s, rambling on about how pretty you were and how thankful he was for you.

“god, i didn’t realize how much of a mess i made. i’m so sorry,” he started but you placed a finger over his lips. “don’t apologize, sweetheart. i enjoyed every second of that.”

he smiled and brought you into a kiss. his lips were soft and glossy, and when he pulled away his eyes were filled with pure love, as you kissed his forehead then stood so you could clean him up.

you grabbed a damp towel and wiped up him, which he winced at, “sorry, it probably seems colder than it actually is,”

after you finished cleaning him up, he threw on some pajama pants and cuddled up next to you. he was always the little spoon, and that day was no different. he grabbed your face gently so he could look at you, “i love you. so much.”

“i love you more, xavi.”

#xavier thorpe smut #xavier thorpe #wednesday #smut imagine #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x y/n #wednesday addams #wednesday show #wednesday series #xavier smut #velvrei #percy hynes white #xavier thorpe x y/n #wednesday imagine #xavier thorpe fanfic

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gothghostiie · 23 days

Note

All your thoughts about Graves are amazing!! What if dear reader is his happy little shy housewife that decides to be bold and wear lingerie for his welcome home surprise- except he brought home a couple of close shadows with him to celebrate... so now you're being punished in front of them because Graves HAS to show his men his wife is his alone~ 🩵

thank you honey!! you have no idea how much it means to me 🫶🏻

cw: domesticity kink, exposure, light degrading, praise, creampie, teasing nipple play, talk about edging;sharing, spanking (ass and pussy), fem!reader, this turned out longer than I thought - not proofread

neither of you expected what the other one did - Phil didn't expect his usually so prim and proper, shy little wife to suddenly rock up in nothing but lingerie; you didn't expect him to bring some shadows home after a mission. usually he liked being alone with you, but usually you also wouldn't be waiting in that gorgeous, blue negligee, considering you only just bought it. you sat there in his armchair, legs crossed with the matching nylon socks being held up by lacy garters, heart racing when you heard the door unlock - face dropping when you heard the chuckles of multiple men. you panicked internally, frozen in your seat until it was too late to cover up, until he stepped in with his shadows behind him.

his face dropped briefly, eyeing you over and seeing you look at him like a deer in headlights - he couldn't help but grin. arms crossed over his chest, all of them still in uniform. "Well, what do we have here? if that isn't my sweet, little angel.." he hummed, carrying a note of sarcasm in his voice. you stuttered, stumbling over your own words for a good ten seconds before he shook his head and stopped you with a simple wave of his hand while walking over to you. slowly, Phillip bent down, hands on the armrests of his favourite chair, caging you under his gaze. "you wanted to surprise me like this? what happened to my innocent little darling who blushed when I even mentioned anything remotely kinky?" that same blush crossed your face again, making him laugh. "missed me so much while I was gone you had to throw yourself at me the second I came back? like a little slut?" he hummed, just loud enough for the others to hear. you blushed more, pressing your thighs together as he spoke, especially during the last word. he had never called you that, anything but darling, sweetheart and the like for that matter. but now he called you a slut in the most loving tone and christ, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you wet.

"I- I'm.." you tried to speak but no sentence would form. he chuckled lowly, the shadows were now in the room but still kept their distance in case graves wanted them to leave. naturally he noticed it, noticed your eyes darting to them ever so often. He gave them a brief look before suddenly grinning, pointy canines on display as he turned back to you.

"should punish you for being so naughty darling.. I'm sure you won't mind the boys watching, do you? since you seem to love being on display like that.." he hummed, looking into your eyes, looking for any sign of hesitance. he saw the brief fear that got overrun by excitement, not to mention the way you rubbed your thighs together. "I'll take that as a yes." he said, suddenly grabbing your wrist with his gloved hand, pulling you out of the seat with ease. his other hand offered the shadows to take a seat in the living room, none of them hesitated even one bit to sit down. you glanced over at your husband, who dropped into his seat with a low groan, keeping you standing between his legs. "how about you get us all some drinks first, hm?" he asked, but it wasn't a question. you quickly nodded, cheeks still burning as the men told you what drink they'd like, you vanished into the kitchen. that wasn't something out of the ordinary, you usually liked making yourself useful for him and his friends.. just not almost naked with your nipples peeking through the thin fabric. with shaky hands you carried the tray back to them, handing everyone their drink - last but not least Phillip, who took the glass and patted his knee. "Sit."

without hesitation you sat down, making him smile in satisfaction. "you're such a dirty little thing aren't you? I can feel the heat from your pussy through the gear." he teased, his free hand snaking between your thighs, gloved fingertips grazing the damp fabric. you blushed, gripping the hem of your negligee tightly while refusing to look at him, or anything but the floor for that matter. "look at you, so shy suddenly." his fingers slowly pushed down on your clit, making you tense up. he chuckled at your reaction. "stand up. show the boys what I get to touch whenever I want." a shiver ran down your spine, yet you obeyed him like a dog. you stood up, even doing a little spin, the men eyeing you like hungry wolves. Phil meanwhile nodded, his semi pressing against his pants slightly. "over my lap." he commanded, you obeyed again. this wasn't a first, the two of you had tried some stuff and spanking is something that definitely stuck. slowly, almost teasingly he removed his gloves, putting them aside on the coffee table. "I'd say it's a shame to have to punish you but I'd be lying doll. I love it when you beg for mercy." with that the first smack landed, making you gasp for air. a few more followed rapidly, making your ass jiggle, your pussy growing more and more wet with each slap.

the men watched the whole thing go down, slowly growing hard and palming themselves through their gear - Phillip had laid down the ground rules while you got drinks, but you didn't need to know that. especially not when he landed the final, harsh strike, making you cry out. "stand up and show them how red your ass is. show them what happened when you're a naughty slut." he hissed, you obeyed with butterflies in your belly. you stood up, backside turned to the shadows as your fave burned in embarrassment, glancing at Phil briefly. he caught the look and gave you a reassuring smile. "so pretty, isn't she?" he hummed lovingly, pulling you in his lap again. this time your back was laid against his chest, his calloused hands sliding up and between your thighs while his lips peppered kisses over your shoulder. he was just about to speak up when he reached your panties, but instead raised an eyebrow. "oh? did someone enjoy her punishment?" he taunted, not even giving you time to think before forcibly spreading your legs, damp panties on display.

you cried out, shaking your head and hiding your face behind your hands. "i'-i'm sorry Phil, I didn't mean to, i-" he cut you off.

"now this won't do. looks like I'll have to punish that pretty pussy too." he hummed, before you could register it he began spanking your pussy too. every slap drew a loud whine or moan from you, legs twitching, pussy only drooling more. the first 10 slaps or so landed on your panties, the wet smack getting worse and worse, making him chuckle. "you're such a dirty little pervert angel.." he whispered, pulling the underwear aside to expose your sticky cunt, fingers rubbing between your folds. "I'm punishing you in front of my men and all you do is get wet and moan, not even showing remorse. I'm starting to think you wanted all of this, wanted to be showed off.." a smack landed on your bare pussy, making you cry out. "can't believe something so innocent and shy could be this dirty.." his voice was merely more than a low growl, boner pressing against your back as he landed another 10 smacks on your bare cunt, your slick dripping down onto his pants. by the last one tears of pleasure dwelled up in your eyes.

"Ph-phil.. please.." you whispered breathlessly. "can't take more.." your chest was rising and falling rapidly, hole clenching around nothing. your husbands hands slowly wandered up your torso until they reached your tits, groping them.

"oh? you can't take any more?" he asked almost sarcastically. "you want me to stop then?" he asked, yet you shook your head, trying to speak as his warm fingers slipped under the fabric to toy with your hard nipples.

"n-no.. I.. I want you.." you choked out in a shaky voice, nails digging into his thighs as you pressed your back against his chest. he laughed briefly, pinching your nipples lightly.

"say what you want. let them hear it." he whispered into your ear, nibbling right underneath it. you cried out, blushing in embarrassment as you looked over to the others, all of them with their cocks in their hands by now. you stammered, a soft sob escaping your throat as his grip on your nipples slowly tightened.

"i.. I want you to fuck my pussy.." you said shakily, almost crying from embarrassment - yet you wouldn't ever want to stop.

"fuck that naughty little pussy of yours?" he scoffed. "reward you after you enjoyed your punishment? seems a little strange, no?" he taunted, making you whine out. Phil chuckled, suddenly pinching your nipples tightly, speaking over you crying out. "beg for it." you hesitated only a moment before desperate pleas fell from your lips, begging him to take you. your voice was shaking, you were stuttering and fumbling with your words, him pulling yout nipples didn't help. only when they slipped out of his grip and your cried out loudly, arching your back he smiled, arms now wrapping around your waist. "good girl, there you go.. how can anyone say no when you beg so pretty?" he hummed, soothing you while one of his hands went to fumble with his belt. he peppered kisses over the side of your neck, nipping and sucking on it while you squirmed in his lap, moaning under his grip. only when he freed his cock and you felt the length against your back he stopped.

his hands snaked under your knees, with ease lifting you up and hovering you over his cock, tip just about grazing your still bare cunt, panties still pulled to the side. you peered down, breath hitching as he moved his hips back and forth, teasing you. "you ready baby?" he asked softly, no malice in his voice for once, just genuinely wanting to check in on you. you took a soft breath and gave him a nod, hands holding onto his forearms. he gave back and affirmative nod, kissing the back of your neck once before pretty much dropping you on his cock, the whole length forced inside your sopping pussy. you cried out loudly, arching your back as he growled, the feeling of your tight walls driving him insane.

"fuck, I missed your tight little cunt..." he muttered, hands gripping your lower thighs tightly to lift you again until he was about halfway outside of you, holding you there. he took a deep breath before slowly rocking his hips up into you, letting you get used to it. the feeling was intense, whether it was that he hadn't fucked you due to being away on a mission; or the eyes of the shadows burning into your cunt being split open by his cock. the thrusts were gentle but that didn't last long, he was growing desperate himself. no matter how hard he had tried to hold back, within minutes he was slamming his hips up into you, groaning and grunting while you were crying softly, drool running down your chin from the overwhelming pleasure. his fingertips dug into your thighs, feeling you become fully loose around him, the gushing sounds making his cock twitch. it didn't take long for you to squirm, getting closer to cumming with each passing minute. of course Phil noticed, he had seen it time and time before.

"you gonna cum?" he asked harshly, out of breath but refusing to slow his thrusts. "do you even fucking deserve that, slut? this was supposed to be a punishment.." his words made you shiver and clench, whining loudly. "should be so thankfulI'm m even fucking you right now.. should've just let the boys have their way with you.." his words made the knot in your stomach tighten by far, another sob escaping you. "shouldn't be letting you cum at all, should i?"

by now all your dignity and most of your shyness were gone, so almost naturally desperate pleas started falling from your lips. "please, Phil.. I gotta cum, can't take it anymore.. I'll be good I promise.. do anything you want.." the words made a chill run down his spine. even if he wanted to he couldn't hold back now.

"fuck.." he muttered, hand reaching towards your pussy to give it a good smack, you cried out. "cum for me doll.." he huffed through gritted teeth, fingers now rubbing your clit. within just seconds your eyes rolled back, all your reservation gone as you came over his cock, head falling back, whole body quivering as you drooled. incoherent thank yous spilled from your lips as he fucked you through your high, chasing his own - which luckily for him didn't take too long, especially with your sweet cries. he dropped you down on his cock again, the whole length disappearing inside you as he bit your shoulder hard, drawing a final cry from you before he came deep inside you.

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haunted-moon · 5 months

Text

Long Way Home [Part X]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 7 here.

Read Part 2 here. Read Part 8 here.

Read Part 3 here. Read Part 9 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part X

My father had taught me that most illnesses could be broadly classified into two: diseases that had a tendency to spread, and the diseases that did not.

While treating a patient with a spreadable illness, there was a high risk of the caretaker getting ill. To combat this, we had made some discoveries like: covering the nose and mouth while in contact with the patient, washing hands with soap frequently and general personal hygiene. It didn't make the caretaker infallible, but it did lessen the risk of spreading.

Azriel didn't have a cold or any other illness that spread, so I was pretty safe from that. He had an unusually high temperature paired with aches, dizziness, tiredness, and a minor stomach issue.

Rhys and Cassian winnowed Azriel to my bedroom and I helped them get him under the covers. Father had fetched a couple of bags of his clothing and other supplies which I'd need. They promised to visit frequently and left.

I sat beside him on the bed, tears threatening to spill over again as I took him in. His skin had lost its colour, his wings looked limp and he was murmuring deliriously as we settled him in. Now he looked like he was in some kind of fitful sleep, his arms and torso jerking now and then. I leaned over and kissed his forehead, sending waves of reassurance through the bond. His body instantly relaxed and the jerking stopped.

I let him sleep until I finished making lunch, consisting of steaming vegetable broth which was both light on the stomach and masked the taste of the bitter medicine he had to take. I toasted some bread for myself and took a tray upstairs.

When I gently woke him up to eat, he had trouble staying conscious at first, but when he figured out that it was me, he fought hard to stay awake. I cradled his head against my collarbone and fed him the broth from a small bowl. He hadn't eaten in days, and I didn't want him to throw up the food. I let him lie back down after wiping his mouth with the hem of the shirt I was wearing. Then, I placed a cold compress on his head to ease some of the temperature.

The medicine started working after a few hours. His body started sweating and the temperature reduced to a manageable level. It was just as Cassian had said: it was quickly healable illness, but it had come to this level because he refused any medicine. I gently wiped the sweat away with a damp cloth, then applied a soothing balm to help restore some moisture to his dried skin and lips.

As the sun dipped in the west, the villa's magic lit the candles and sconces for light. Azriel's ever present shadows weren't there, and his beautiful wings looked brittle and fragile in the candlelight.

His temperature rose a bit, though not to the previous unmanageable state. After I made him have another bowl of the medicine spiked broth, I stayed up all night trying to keep him cool with damp cloths and cold compresses. Throughout the night, there were a few times when he seemed to have awoken, but it was just his delirium talking. He was far more relaxed now, and I stayed beside him and held his hand as he mumbled my name.

I was waiting for the fever to break, which might help him return to proper consciousness. I kept a careful watch to make sure it was reducing and there were no sudden spikes in his temperature.

Somewhere in middle, he also had a nightmare, I think. I couldn't get him to wake up, so I held his hand physically and also reached out through the bond.

Finally, the fever broke on the cusp of dawn, just as the morning birds were getting ready to herald a new day. His nightmare also seemed to have eased, and he was now calm. I had the sensation that he had reached out to me through our mating bond, as we were holding each both mentally and physically.

After another round of wiping sweat, I laid down next to him for a quick nap before breakfast. I had to take care of myself too to take care of my sick mate properly.

My body was tired from the all the work, and the nap turned into two hours of sleep. The morning sunlight was spilling through the open French windows when I opened my eyes. Cassian, Rhys, and my father were on the other side of the bed, and Azriel seemed to be awake. He was propped by pillows and talking to my father in low tones.

They stopped talking and turned to me when I sat up and stretched. Azriel looked better now, not like a dead body as I had seen him yesterday. His eyes showed apprehension as he watched me.

I merely stood up and walked to the door. There was a long conversation to be had, but first, Azriel had to get healthy. It could wait until that.

"I'm making breakfast, hope you three will stay for that," I nodded at the others and made my way downstairs.

I made some savoury vegetable oats, buttered toast and put the kettle to boil water for tea. Rhys, Cassian and father made their way down just as I was finishing up. They looked a bit suspicious to me, glancing at each other and then telling me that they'll serve themselves, and I should go just ahead and take a plate to Azriel.

They wanted us to talk and clear it out. Sighing, I carried a tray upstairs.

Azriel was lying back down when those three had left, but he raised his head at my entrance. When he noticed it was me, he started to push himself upright. I moved to help arrange the pillows behind his back so he was comfortable and sat down next to him.

His body was still weak, and his hands trembled, so I fed him the food I had brought.

"How are you feeling?" I asked after a couple of spoons.

Instead of answering the question, he looked me directly in the eyes. "From the first time I saw you, I haven't had a proper night's sleep."

I exhaled audibly, returning the spoon to the bowl and waiting for him to go on.

"You were alone and nervous during Rhys's treatment without your father present. But still, you never showed it on your face and saved him. And when you shifted to the House, you were a ray of sunshine that brought a smile to everyone's face."

I looked away from his intense gaze. "Never on your face, though."

"You've made me smile and laugh so many times that I've lost count."

I wasn't buying it, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? And somehow I happened to not see even one of those alleged smiles?"

He replied to this statement with a goddamn smile.

I wasn't amused. I wanted to smash the bowl I was holding into his face.

I reined in my rising anger. Maybe I wasn't ready for this conversation yet. I needed more time to sort out my thoughts.

I shoved another spoonful of oats into his mouth before he could say another word. Placing the bowl back on the tray, I pushed it onto his lap and stood up. He could eat on his own.

"Finish eating and take rest," I started towards the door.

"Y/n, please, wait. Listen to me—"

I whirled on him so fast that he instantly stopped. "Say another word and I'll poison your next meal and shove it down your throat. You can't just ignore me for months, giving uninterested replies to my attempts at conversation, then reject me when we found out that we were mates. As if that wasn't enough, you have the fucking audacity to FALL SICK AND HAVE ME TAKE CARE OF YOU! JUST FUCKING SHUT UP AND LET ME BE!"

I banged the door shut behind me and stomped down the stairs, breathing heavily from my outburst.

Rhys, Cassian and my father were at the base of the stairs, trying to eavesdrop on our conversation, I guess. They scattered like mice when they saw my murderous expression. Rhys started wiping down the table, Cassian was furiously scrubbing at the dishes and father was straightening things up.

I was amused at Rhys and Cassian. Never thought the High Lord and his commander would be doing a domestic chore in my house out of fear.

Fetching a bowl from a cabinet, I scooped some food in it and sat down at the table after Rhys was done. I set the bowl down hard enough to make the table rattle. The anger was still present. They all started inching towards the front door.

"You're welcome to my house anytime," I said in a low, controlled voice, making them stand still. "But the next time you even attempt to patch things up between me and Azriel, I'll poison your food and turn your dead bodies into compost for my fruit orchard. And that includes you, father."

They all nodded wordlessly and tripped over each other trying to hurry outside.

Well.

Good thing to know that my anger rattled even the best of the High Lords in Prythian.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006 @fightmedraco @lees-chaotic-brain @thesunloveschips

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 11 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

[Thank you for your patience as I know I was late in uploading these parts. I love you all very much <3]

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whispering-ways · 7 months

Text

• ⪩⪨ ♥︎ love struck ♥︎ ⪩⪨ •

♥︎ summary: you've just come back from a horrible date and your roommate, Midoriya, helps comfort you

♥︎ pairing: izuku midoriya x reader

♥︎ tags: no warnings, just fluff :)

♥︎ notes: hi everyone, hope everyone is having a good day and I hope y'all like this fic! love y'all and thanks for supporting my fics <;3

You close the door to your apartment with a sigh and head to the kitchen. “Yet another piss poor date,” you think to yourself, fatigue settling in your bones. At this point, it was just too tiring. You’d downloaded every single dating app you could think of; you tried your luck on Tinder, Hinge, Bumble, and everything else under the moon. But regardless of how wide a net you cast, you always seemed to pull in the worst fish. It’s not that you hadn’t found anyone attractive or no one had liked you, but every single time you went on a date, it just managed to go sour.

The first date you’d been on seemed really nice at first, but with the way the guy kept on mentioning that women should be good housewives rather than ‘trying to shoot for the stars’, you knew that pursuing him would go nowhere. The second guy was no better. You’d agreed to go back to his place, just to realize it wasn’t even a place at all; it was his parents’ basement. The third guy? Gross, absolutely gross and that’s all you were going to say. And that led you to today. Today’s date seemed like a shoo-in.

The guy you were talking to was nice, smart, and sweet and it really looked like he was into you. So when he asked you out on a date to a nearby French restaurant, you were genuinely excited. At the least, it gave you a chance to dress up. But after nearly an hour of waiting, you realized that you’d been stood up. You were so upset thinking about the whole situation that you didn’t even notice your roommate on the couch when you took off your heels.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d be home by now. Thought your date would take a little longer than an hour,” Midoriya said, moving to the side and patting the seat next to him, motioning you to sit next to him. Although you didn’t want anyone to see you upset like this, you were so glad to see Midoriya right now. You’d agreed to move in with him about a couple of months ago since you two were already best friends for years. And what you needed the most right now was your best friend and a good and proper vent.

“Yeah I’m fine, just that all my dates keep going terribly and I’m practically un-fucking-loveable or something,” you reply, throwing your purse on the couch and slumping down.

“Ok, no need for sarcasm. What we’re gonna do is you’re gonna sit here and we’re gonna talk it out okay?” Midoriya replies. He gets up to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water before handing it to you. “Now tell me exactly what happened.”

You take a sip and lean back on the couch, placing the glass to the side. “Well, I went to the restaurant and like I thought it’d be like a nice date, like at least a good time you know? But apparently, I’m a fucking moron or something because I sat there for like 45 minutes waiting for him until the staff had to kick me out because of the long wait times.” Just talking about it made tears well up in your eyes.

“What the hell; did he at least send you a text or anything?” Midoriya asked.

"Oh.. that’s the best fucking part is, I walked out of that restaurant and checked Hinge. I had sent so many messages asking where he was, and guess what? He fucking unmatched me!" you share in disbelief, wiping away the tears with your sleeve. You then grab a pizza roll, attempting to find some comfort in food. "I don't know why this always happens.. I just feel like I'm always going to have terrible luck, it's like I'm cursed. Maybe I'm just delusional and need to accept the fact that I'm unlovable..." you speak sadly, staring blankly.

Midoriya placed his hand on your shoulders, abruptly turning you to face him. Surprised by his sudden movement, you paused in your conversation. "Don't say that about yourself, okay? You are loved by so many people, and you're absolutely loveable. All the guys you've just talked to are just douches, and you deserve so much better than them.” You nod your head and wipe your tears, doing your best to pick yourself up.

He lets out a sympathetic sigh. “How about I make you some of that spicy ramen you like and we watch a movie together? You relax and I’ll take care of it all,” he suggested.

You chuckle at the sweet gesture. “Yeah...yeah that sounds really nice actually.” A part of your heart felt a pang of hurt at his actions; although it was a sweet friendly gesture, that’s all it’d end up being. Just a friendly gesture. But you did your best to erase that thought from your head.

Midoriya gets up from the couch to start cooking the ramen and you head to your room to change out of your dress into some more comfortable pajamas. You tie your hair up before heading to the kitchen and sitting on the countertop to watch Midoriya cook. After a moment or two, you pipe up and ask whether he needs any help.

“No, I’m all good; just sit there and look pretty. Besides, it’s just ramen, there’s not much to do with it.”

You blush at the reply, but shrug it off and reply “Well at least I offered.”

As Midoriya cooks the ramen, you both slip into talking about your lives. Midoriya talked about what an ass his boss was being, which was a great way to distract you from your own problems. The light gossip lifts your heart, and you feel refreshed and ready to tackle the world. Once the ramen is prepared, he scoops two bowls and walks towards the couch, where you follow behind him. You sit down and he walks over to your bedroom. With curiosity, you wondered what he was doing there, but shortly after, he returned with your favorite blanket in hand.

It warmed your heart how much effort Midoriya put into cheering you up. He momentarily takes away your bowl of ramen, only to spread the blanket across you and return the bowl back to you. You take a bite and immediately melt into the couch; it is just what you need. Midoriya joins you on the couch and hands you the remote to pick out a movie. After flipping through a couple of options, you finally settle on a rom-com that you’d been wanting to see for a while.

It didn’t long for you both to finish your ramen and from there on out, all you both were focused on was the movie. Or at least, it seemed like that’s what Midoriya was focused on. All you could think about was how close you both were. You didn’t know what compelled you to offer whether he wanted to share your blanket with you, but you were definitely glad that you both were sitting closer together. Your fingertips were barely brushing with his and you could smell the cologne on him. “Pine and just a hint of smoke,” you thought, but you knew thoughts like that were only going to hurt you. After all, you guys were just best friends.

You try your best to remain focused on the movie, which seems to work fairly well. Not too much longer passes until you and Midoriya begin making comments about the film, which had always been your favorite part of watching movies with him; he always had something out-of-pocket to say about what you two were watching. The climax of the movie had the hero show up at his crush’s door with a bouquet, ready to ask her out. "See that right there? That's what I want. Some flowers and all that stuff on a date? What wouldn't I give to experience a date like that,” you exclaim with a dreamy expression on your face.

You hear Midoryia laugh, and you turn towards him, confused. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just funny you say that like you haven’t ever gotten flowers ever,” he replies, focusing back on the movie.

“That’s because I haven’t,” you mumble quietly, but not quiet enough to slip Midoriya’s earshot.

He whipped his head around to look at you. “That is genuinely insane, if I could take you out I'd have gotten you flowers for sure, what a damn shame honestly.” You look at him stunned, wondering whether if what he said had registered in his own mind.” Well, you know I mean a girl like you, not you...not that there’s anything bad with you..ugh I’m just fucking it up,” he stammers, his hands flying to cover the rosy blush that now covered his entire face.

You turn away from him and an awkward silence passes between you both. But there was no way you could just leave it off at that. “So you want to take me out then?”

“No..well I mean yes, I’d be privileged too but...” he trails off before sighing, leaning back into the couch. His hands still cover his face as he says, “I just...in all honesty, I don’t want to take advantage of you being upset right now and I know that you don’t have feelings for me so a date would just complicate things, you know?”

Saying that you were thrown for a loop was an absolute understatement. It took you a moment or two to process what he just said before replying, “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it you know. And it’s not like I don’t have feelings for you.”

Midoriya shot up at break-neck speed. “”What?? What do you mean by that??”

“No it’s whatever really, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you say, fiddling around with the corner of the blanket.

You feel Midoriya's hands gently move over to cover yours, pulling you back to look towards him. His eyes searched for an answer within your own and when you continued to stay silent, he said ”Literally if you don't tell me I'm going to spend all night trying to figure it out and you know I won't with how oblivious I am."

You look down at your interlaced hands and reply, “Well, you know, you’re my best friend and I genuinely enjoy spending time with you. Like I don’t think many people make me genuinely as happy as you do and I have feelings for you. I’ve thought about like being with you, but I like friends with you and I don’t want to weird you out and push you away.”

Midoriya lets go of your hands and for a moment, you think that this was the end, he was going to move out and never talk to you again. But before you can even register it, he pulls you into his arms and hugs you tight. He pulls you back and shifts his hands from the small of your back to your face, cupping it. His face has a huge grin plastered all over it. “Weird me out? I didn’t want to weird you out! I love spending time with you and I’ve wanted to go out with you for a long time. You don’t realize what a dream come true this is.”

At first, hearing that shocks yu, but then you start to laugh at how silly the situation is. You hug him back, happy to be on the same page. After you both let go, you smile and a moment passes between you two. It's a bit awkward but you know what you both are so happy that it’s okay. “Is it okay if I kiss you now.”

You’d never seen a man nod quicker in your life. “Yeah, yeah, that would be nice,” he replied, trying to play off his nod. Your hand slips to his cheek and you lean in to kiss him. You feel his smile against your lips, making you absolutely giddy. You pull away from him, your face flushed red. You looked up at Midoriya, whose green eyes shone with admiration. He just looked too cute; you couldn’t help but lean back into pepper kisses all over his face.

With passion, Midoriya's need to hold you became too overwhelming. He gently eased you into his lap, lifting up both legs so they straddled his. Taking you by surprise, he kissed you repeatedly, as if to convince himself that this was no dream. With every separation of his lips from yours, he seemed more and more content. Breathlessly, he asked, "Is it too early for me to ask you to be my girlfriend?"

“Absolutely not,” you say, snaking your arms around his neck. You pour every drop of affection and joy you had for Midoriya into the kiss. “This is like a dream come true,” you thought.

You two spent the rest of the night, cuddling with each other as you finished the movie. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m so glad that guy flaked on you,” Midoriya said, kissing you softly on the forehead.

You chuckle, leaning on his shoulder. “I couldn’t agree more.”

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moni-logues · 1 year

Text

Different Spaces

Pairing: Bangchan x reader

Genre: friends to lovers, smut

Summary: Chan has just returned home from tour and you hope you aren't wrong that something has changed between you. Only one way to find out...

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: one (1) handjob, little bit of cum-eating, that's pretty much ya lot!

AN: YES, she's a MULTI BLOG NOW. And obviously it's Chan. It was always going to be Chan lmaooooo. Anyway, this idea crept into my head last night and then I wrote it today to put off writing something else 😅😅😅 I HOPE YOU ENJOY! It's unbeta'd (except for @minttangerines reading it to make sure it didn't suck lol) so forgive the typos please!!!

ETA: you can now find part two HERE!

*~*~*

It wasn’t weird and it wasn’t uncomfortable. But it was different. It was definitely different this time.

Chan sat in front of you, between your legs, his back against your chest and his head in the soft space between your shoulder and collarbone. You leant against the arm of the sofa with your hands on his stomach-

That was different. You had the hem of his T-shirt between your fingers, toying mindlessly, while your other hand rested on his warm, soft skin beneath it. He had one hand resting over yours, his fingers not exactly entwined with yours, but not exactly not.

You’d held hands before. On occasion. Entirely casually, platonically. Except for the part where you wished it wasn’t casual, wished it wasn’t platonic.

You’d had feelings for Chan for as long as you could remember, since you first set eyes on him. Honestly, you were used to it. Comfortable with it even. You knew you weren’t going to do anything about it and that meant it didn’t worry you. It would be your little secret and you would soak up all the time with him you could, you would enjoy all the friendship privileges he offered you and you would clutch them close to your heart in the absence of any actual body to hold.

It was only before he went away this last time, a couple of months ago, that you felt something change. Something about how clingy he had been the night before he left, a little more tactile than he usually was. He was ants-in-his-pants fidgety and wouldn’t sit still. He was wrestling you into a hug one minute and then pushing you to the other end of the sofa the next. He held you so tightly and for so long when you hugged him goodbye that you had joked it was like he was going off to war. He had laughed only half-heartedly, which, for Chan, might as well have not been laughing at all. He had pulled back and looked at you intensely with his hands still on your waist and you had waited and waited for him to say or do something else but he just kept looking.

“Are you going to like, actually leave?” you had asked.

He snapped out of his trance and ruffled your hair.

“Course I’m going! Why? Trying to get me to stay?”

You weren’t, because you knew he was going to leave, anyway, that he had to go, but he sounded hopeful (or were you imagining it?).

“Yeah. I did consider locking you up for a second, but taking care of one animal is enough; I’m not sure I could cope with having to feed and care for you, too!”

He had done a proper laugh then and you were reassured that whatever had just happened, it was a blip, a glitch, nothing more. He had hugged you one last time, shorter, looser, and then turned to leave with a salute.

Then he was back, hugging you just as hard, fresh off the plane (rather unfresh, actually, and he had the cheek to ask to use your shower!).

And it was the same as it had ever been.

But it was also different. Because he had told you so many times while he was away that he missed you; he had said ‘wish you were here!’ so often that you actually believed it; your gallery was full of ‘found you!’ photos of ugly statues and ‘thought you’d like this’ shots of architecture and souvenirs—souvenirs he’d actually bought and brought home for you. He didn’t usually do that.

And now, there you were, with your hands on his skin and your cheek resting lightly on the top of his head and he was laughing at the film you were watching and taking your hand from the hem of his top, crossing it over his torso and holding it there. He closed his fingers over yours. Holding hands. You flattened your palm over his stomach and stroked sideways, the circle of your arms tighter around him, and you wanted to ask what this meant. Did it mean anything? Had he just been lonely on the road? Did he just want some physical contact? Were you just... there?

You weren’t one to be stuck in indecision. You didn’t have the patience for it. You decided, when you first met, that you weren’t going to act on your feelings because trying to date an idol was an insane thing to do. And you didn’t need the stress.

But you also didn’t need the long, drawn-out stress of a ‘will they? Won't they?’ scenario with one of your closest friends.

And, if you were going to be really honest, you kind of did need a good fuck. And you’d thought about fucking him a lot, one might say too much. And if he was interested, if something had changed and he saw you differently now, well, then the bedroom was calling for you.

“Chan?” you said quietly.

He twisted his head a little.

“Yeah?”

“Can I... touch you?”

You drew your fingers back, softly grazing your nails against his abs. He giggled.

“What do you mean? We already are touching!”

You slipped just the tips of your fingers beneath the waistband of his jogging bottoms and the waistband of his boxers.

“No, I mean... touch you.”

“Oh, sh-… Uh.”

You didn’t move your hand; you felt his heartrate quicken, thumping back against your chest.

“You don’t have to say yes. It’s ok if the answer’s no.”

“Yeah, no,” he said. “I mean, the answer’s yes. It’s ok.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

He swallowed and nodded and put his hand over yours, carefully encouraging it lower.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

His hand left yours as it disappeared beneath the fabric of his clothes and you couldn't breathe as your fingers ran over the velvet skin of his soft cock, which twitched on contact. As you pushed his trousers and his boxers down, you almost couldn’t look, couldn’t bear the thought of disappointment, after all this waiting, after every fantasy, but you needn’t have worried. Of course, it was fucking perfect. Just like the rest of him. You wrapped your fingers around his semi-hard length and he shifted.

“You don’-” Then he hesitated.

“Don’t what?”

“Uh, you don’t have to be gentle...”

Then he wrapped his fingers around yours, squeezed a little tighter, and your thighs squeezed, too. You chuckled, a little embarrassed, a little shy actually, a little over-awed.

“Channie likes it rough, huh?”

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was blushing; you could feel the heat radiate from his cheeks.

“Um, well, uh-”

He was stammering now and you were amazed that he could be bashful with his cock in your hand, shy even though he was directing you.

“I like it,” you whispered and you felt a shiver go through him.

He kept his hand over yours and you smiled to yourself because you should have expected this. Control freak Chan, perfectionist Chan, Mr ‘I’ll just do it myself’ Bang. It was cute. But you weren’t going to let him get away with it. You let him control you, let him show you how he liked it, let him get himself to the point where his breathing was heavy and his bottom lip was bitten between his teeth and his brows were furrowed.

“Hey,” said, nudging his head with yours. “Who exactly is giving this handjob? You want me to just leave you to it or...?”

He spluttered and stopped and immediately let your hand go.

“Sorry, I-”

“You don’t have to apologise; I know you. But I want to do this for you, y’know?” You turned your head and gently bit the top of his ear before pressing a kiss to it.

“Yeah, got it. All yours.”

“Thank you.”

You had him panting again in seconds, because he had already given you his secrets, and when he tipped his head backwards and whined, it made your cunt pulse.

“Ok, you’re right, you’re right,” he gasped. “This is better. Fuck... Oh shit.”

He was moving like he couldn’t help himself, his hips snapping up, fucking himself in your fist and you could feel his thighs twitching, feel the tension coiling in his body.

It was building in you, too, as you soaked through your underwear. He wasn’t quiet and every moan, every grunt, every gasp of your name made your head spin. You hoped it wouldn’t stop here. After all this time, something was finally happening and you needed it to keep happening, you needed him to feel you, too. A moan fell from your own mouth as you imagined him fucking you, imagined that it wasn’t your hand around his cock but your cunt. That he liked it even rougher when he was inside you. That the deep black intensity he had inside him came out. That he fucked you like he danced, with every inch of his body and every ounce of strength.

“I’m-.. I’m-…"

You didn’t need him to tell you.

“I know, babe. Go on, make a mess. Make a mess for me.”

With a shudder and a cry trapped low in his throat, he came, over your hand, over your fingers, over his stomach and his T-shirt. He was gulping in air with his eyes closed and a hand clenching and unclenching at his side.

“Oh, shit,” you whispered as you swiped a finger through the mess on his skin. “Who’s going to clean all this up?”

You raised your hand and brought it almost to your own mouth, then pretended to think twice before pressing down on his bottom lip. It was a bold move, you knew, but you were feeling emboldened.

Then he opened his mouth and took your cum-sticky fingers in without a second’s hesitation. Would the night’s surprises never end? He licked your fingers clean and ran his tongue over your palm before he swiped his finger through the mess on his stomach and lifted it to your lips. You laughed.

“I can do you one better.”

You shuffled and climbed out from behind him, pushing him down and straddling him. It was the first time you had been face to face; you both blushed when your eyes met and you couldn’t stop the giggle that rose in your throat. He giggled back and you recognised that you were on the verge of hysteria; if you let that giggle become a laugh, it wouldn’t stop until you were both crying. You tried to rein it in, this strange, self-conscious shyness that was gripping you, this wild giddiness that made you want to scream with laughter and cry ‘I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!’. You were looking at Chan and you knew he felt it, too; his eyes glittered and then all but disappeared as his smile widened. He bit his lip to try to keep it in, but it was no use.

He snorted and covered his face with his hands as a loud laugh bellowed forth. You never could resist his mirth. You were helpless to it at the best of times. He was curling over, his whole body shaking, and you were climbing off him, flopping to the floor, weak with it, the laughter sapping your strength and overriding any capacity for being serious. It was too absurd. That this had just happened. That one day—one moment—you were friends and the next you were making him come over himself, that he was licking his own cum from your fingers. That you had wanted this for such a long time and sworn off it. That you had no idea it might be something he wanted. That you never even thought to ask! That it could have been this easy? All this time?

Your brain was elsewhere as your breath shuddered and tears streaked your cheeks. You thought you had got yourself under control: your breathing was shaky and your stomach hurt but your eyes were dry and you sat yourself up. Then you looked at Chan, face also tear-streaked, flushed with glee, and you both collapsed again.

“Don’t look at me,” Chan said, his voice thick and wobbly with laugher some minutes later. “Don’t look at me, please, I can’t laugh anymore, but can you get me a fucking tissue or something?”

You shut your eyes, scrunched your face, and pressed your fist to the bridge of your nose; you couldn’t laugh anymore, it would kill you. But you knew that if you turned to look at him, helpless and messy on his back, that another fit would catch you. You crawled to the end table and threw the box of tissues in his direction.

“Thanks.”

You leant back against the edge of the sofa and let your breath resume its normal rhythm, let your heart slow down, let Chan wipe himself up and tuck himself away. You felt him sit up as his knee knocked your shoulder and you turned so you could just see him out of the corner of your eye. He looked down at his cum-stained T-shirt and gingerly pulled it over his head. Then he looked at it, displeased.

“This was clean on like, an hour ago.”

“Oh, shit, sorry, dude. You want me to take the handy back or something?”

He looked alarmed for a second.

“Do you want to take it back?”

“No.”

“Good, neither do I.”

“I would kind of like to know where the fuck it came from though.”

“What are you talking about? You started it! You offered!”

“Chan, you were holding my hand. We don’t hold hands! Look at all this shit you bought me!” You gestured broadly to giftbags and boxes, trinkets and jewellery on the coffee table. “Besides, I’ve always wanted it; you haven’t.”

He stared at you, mute, looking like you’d just asked him a long division question.

“You always wanted it?”

“Yep.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because you didn’t want it!”

“How would you know?! You never asked!”

“Ok, well, did you?”

He looked up; he looked down. He looked thoughtful. He looked a little apologetic.

“I don’t really know,” was his eventual answer.

“Well, there you go. That’s why I didn’t say.”

Silence reigned and you didn’t want this to collapse, to fizzle into awkwardness.

“Do you want it? Now?” you asked.

“Yeah.” At least he sounded sure about that.

“What changed?”

When he looked at you and caught your eyes, there was a look there you hadn’t seen in them before. It was almost painfully soft, tender in a way that pierced your heart. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at you like he was looking at something precious, something sweet. Then he shrugged.

“I’ve never been away from you that long before.”

“And?”

“I didn’t want to be. It made me not want to go at all. And I couldn’t work out why it mattered so much. I’ve been away before. I’ve been here, even, and just been busy and not seen you for a while. But it felt different this time, somehow. I really didn’t want to go. And I talked about it and everyone told me I was like, the world’s biggest idiot. They all apparently thought—or knew?—I had feelings for you already and they all just said ‘tell her! You’ve got to tell her! Go for it!’ and I wanted to. I was going to, the night before I left, but then I realised I’d be confessing all that stuff and then just... fucking off. I didn’t want to do that. So, I... did nothing, I guess.”

“Fair enough.”

“You wanted it all this time? Me, you wanted me?”

That he even had to ask was adorable, broke your heart a little. Who wouldn’t want him? He was everything you could have asked for and more; he ticked every box; he made your sad little heart sing like a songbird. And he still had to ask.

“Since the moment we met.”

“Shit.”

“I had no idea.”

He looked like he meant it, too: a little dazed, a little confused, just a hint of wonder on his face.

“So, what now?” he asked.

You shrugged.

“You mean right now, or general future ‘now’?”

“I guess both?”

“Can I be honest?”

“Yeah.”

“Right now, I would really like to do something about how badly I want to fuck you.”

And he was bashful Chan, again, his eyes wide and the tips of his ears pink, his mouth slightly open with surprise. You watched his Adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed.

“I... am amenable to that.”

“Want to try that again with something even slightly sexy?”

And he blushed bright, covering his face with his hands.

“Fuck, ok, give me a second.”

You laughed and moved from the floor to sit opposite him on the sofa, your knees touching. You waited patiently for a second or two, then tapped his leg.

“I’m flustered, ok!” he cried. “You’ve got me all... flustered. I don’t know... I-.. Agh. I swear I’m not this bad usually. I promise. I just--… this has really taken me off-guard! Fuck, I didn’t know. I-”

You interrupted him to climb into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. He lifted his face to yours and you kissed him, just a light peck on his petal pink lips.

“How about you let me lead, then?” you asked, your voice soft and low. “Can you do that? Can you let me take control?”

He looked at you pleadingly, his eyes round and wide, and you were worried that it meant no, that he was going to say he didn’t want that.

“Yes, please.”

Fuck.

With your hands on either side of his face, you pulled him closer and kissed him again, deep this time, deep and slow and breathless. He tasted of honey butter chips, which you had never liked before that moment. His tongue rolled with yours, soft and sweet and every bit as good as you had imagined. He whined quietly, just barely, when you pulled back, when you sank your teeth into the plush pink of his lower lip. When you looked at each other, nose-to-nose, his eyes were wide again, sparkling and bright and looking at you like you were the whole world.

It wasn’t weird and it wasn’t uncomfortable and it wasn’t awkward; it didn’t feel like crossing a line or pushing a boundary; it felt like you should have been doing this all along. It was different for the two of you, sure, it was different. But you’d been ready for this change since you learnt his name, since he held his hand out to you and smiled politely. This different was good. This different was everything you’d ever wanted.

#bangchan x reader #chan x reader #bangchan smut #bangchan fic #chan smut #chan fic #skz fic #skz x reader #skz smut

451 notes · View notes

icallhimjoey · 7 months

Note

Could we do a prequel of “ground rules” like what really happened that night..

someone requested this nearly a whole year ago, i found it whilst trying to clean up my inbox and, okay so FINE, the girlies want smut ???? they can GET it, enjoy (fiy: this can totally be read on its own w/o needing to be aware of what ground rules is even about) (cw: 18+ smut) Wordcount: 4.9K

---

Inside Out & Outside In

(read Ground Rules here)

Ghosted.

You’d seen this guy three times, had talked to each other for over a month.

Ghosted.

Three lovely dates. Were absolutely planning on taking it there tonight. Had shaved your whole body, were wearing matching underwear which never fucking happened, were lotioned and potioned and ready. Smelled fucking amazing.

Only to be fucking ghosted.

He said he’d meet you at a certain restaurant you’d really wanted to go to, and then… just didn’t show. Calls went unanswered until they got declined. Blocked? Maybe. But why? For what? Weren't you unbelievably hot, and nice, and kind, and smart, and cute, et cetera, et cetera?

After waiting for way longer than you should’ve, you texted a friend. Asked if they were still having people over that night and if it was okay if you stopped by too – you’d turned down the invite earlier, because you had a hot date, obviously.

“yes please come! everyone’s here” got followed by a more concerned, “everything ok?”

No, not really, but maybe after another drink you would be.

You walked into your friend’s flat and were welcomed by about fifteen people shouting loud heys and hellos, all upbeat and happy and cheery.

Joe took one look and saw you were definitely not feeling all upbeat or happy or cheery, and went to fetch you a drink whilst you explained to the friend you’d texted that he just… he didn’t show up.

“What the fuck? He just… he just bailed on you? Did you call? Or text?”

“I did, but–”

“Weren’t you seeing him for a little while already?” someone else chimed in, and you realized that your friend must’ve informed everyone else. Or, at least, some people. Not that this was a huge party – just, a get-together, a gathering. Just some people over in her flat, drinks and snacks and loud laughter with some background music going. Like a night at the pub, but cheaper, and open ‘til later.

“No they went on– you went on a couple dates, right? My God, and to then just…”

“Did you get stood up?”

“Yea, I–”

“Hey, come on,” Joe interrupted, holding up a drink for you but nodding his head towards the balcony. Get you out of this overwhelming bombarding of questions. You didn’t need telling twice.

Outside, you leant on the banister with Joe next to you and just took quiet sips of your drinks in silence for a second. Joe rolled a cigarette and didn’t really say anything. Didn’t ask anything. Not until you sniffed loudly and he saw you were trying your best to blink tears away, to suck the excess water that was starting to pool there back into your tear ducts somehow.

“Hey, he’s an idiot. Proper dickhead.”

You let a wet laugh escape you and nodded. “Yea, he is.”

“How long did you wait around for?”

You winced, annoyed and disappointed with yourself for how long you sat in that restaurant by yourself.

“Too long,” but then you immediately defended, “But you know, I didn’t want to assume the worst. What if something happened? What if there was a good reason for– maybe he was just running late, you know? People run late sometimes for valid reasons, don't they?”

Joe nodded, lighting his cigarette and filling his lungs with smoke before he blew it out to the side, away from you. Considerate.

“You’re too kind for this world, you know?”

You grimaced, and Joe went, “No, that’s a good thing! We need more people like that. Like you.”

“Yea. Well. Thanks, I guess...”

You didn’t mean it, thought it just made your life unnecessarily and unfairly difficult, but Joe wasn’t one to press it any further.

Another silence fell where you listened to the noises coming from inside. Someone knocked over a glass which caused commotion and you could hear the beat, the soft bass, of whatever song was playing.

You drank, and Joe smoked in between sips and you both looked down at the street. A car was trying to parallel park and failing miserably at it. The silence and lack of attention on you was just what you needed to open up.

“I was really starting to fancy him,”

“Yea? Already?”

“Wouldn’t have gone to see him again if I didn’t,”

“Makes sense,” Joe tapped some ashes over the banister, “That’s actually smart… also makes this extra shit.”

Yea, it did.

“I think… maybe I’m just, I think I’m just a bad judge of character, because I don’t–” you stopped because your throat did something funny. You had to cough to mask the sob that got stuck in there and tried to hide your wet eyes as you turned away from Joe.

But Joe saw.

Joe knew.

“Darlin’,” Joe tossed his cigarette and took hold of you by a shoulder. Made you turn back to make eye-contact.

Yea, you were definitely crying.

“Come here.”

You got pulled into a hug and decided that, yea, fuck it, you were totally allowed to cry actually. A shitty thing had happened and it was absolutely fine to be sad about that. It didn’t exactly help that whilst you waited at the restaurant, you’d downed two fat glasses of wine already and were now halfway through a beer, but... Joe was there and he was nice, and friendly, and was warm and hugged you tight, and didn’t ask invasive questions, and, wasn’t that somehow just exactly what you needed?

You stood like that for a while, just in Joe’s tender embrace in the cold air, blinking slow tears down your face every now and then.

A knock on the window made you want to turn, to pull away from Joe to see who that was and why they wanted your attention. But Joe wouldn’t let you. You felt how he shook his head at whoever was on the other side of the sliding door and didn’t let his grip waver.

Apparently there was some sort of nonverbal communication, because next you felt Joe jerk his head to the side. You imagined he nodded in the direction he wanted that person to disappear into. Imagined his frowning fuck off facial expression.

“Who is that?” you asked, voice a little constricted because you had a throat full of weird emotions.

“No one important.”

You huffed a laugh. The people inside were all of your friends – they were all important.

After another short silence, Joe let his arms slip down and pulled back. You weren’t off the hook yet, though. Joe kept his arms loosely around you and forced eye-contact.

“You okay?”

“Yea...” you lied as you sniffed.

“...you sure?”

You huffed a laugh and were honest when you said, “No.”

You saw Joe’s worried eyes scan your features, seemingly looking for something hidden in your eyes. Then his eyes cast down and looked at the drink you were holding still.

“Need something stronger?”

“Yes, please.”

Joe smiled at you, impossibly warm, and kind, and sweet. It was the sort of grin that was impossible not to copy.

“I’ll be just a sec,” Joe said, stepping towards the door. “Do not do anythi– keep both those feet on the ground, no irrational silly decisions.”

You gave him a deadpan stare followed by an eye-roll that made him laugh.

“All right. Just checking,” Joe disappeared inside and couldn’t fight his smile.

Neither could you.

Inside you saw people try to grab his attention, try to ask him if you were okay, what was going on with you. It was all well-meant attention, but exactly the opposite of what Joe wanted. He’d assigned himself the role of carer for the night. Would lend you either shoulder of his for you to cry on for however long you needed.

Joe wasn't going to lie; he fucking loved this.

Obviously it was awful that you were sad, but to be able to swing in and protect a fragile pretty girl all night? Sign him the fuck up.

It’s why he ended up ignoring everyone for the rest of the night. Told people to leave you alone, that you needed a minute, to not bother you a second. Hogged you all night. Kept you out on the balcony and fetched you drinks and snacks. And when you started getting cold, only more reason to hug you, to try and keep you warm.

And, listen, so what if you started playing up how sad you actually really were?

So what if you used a face on Joe that you knew would make him go, “No, stop it, don’t cry, enough now,” whilst using a palm to push your head into his chest?

So what if, after a quiet murmuring conversation whilst hugging, you shivered because just Joe’s arms around your back weren’t warming you up enough, and to fix it, Joe opened his coat and let you snuggle inside whilst he wrapped the wool mix fabric tightly around your back?

So what if you were a little more into the attention than you were letting on, and started mentally thanking the universe for that wanker standing you up tonight?

You deserved nice things too.

And Joe was a nice thing.

Joe made soft jokes about the people you were both looking at inside. Said some of them definitely deserved to be ghosted by someone, unlike you. Made you turn your attention towards the moon, because look how nice it looked tonight. Let you complain about your lack of love life and was self-deprecating about his love life in return, just to make you smile.

Joe let you try a hand at rolling a cigarette for him, which you’d never done before. It was obvious too. When you handed him a barely-there sad excuse for a cigarette, all pretend-proud because you knew exactly how shite it was, Joe carefully took it from you and inspected it with a funny face, eyes all narrow, eyebrows up high on his face. Made you giggle. But then he went and actually tried to light it, and you laughed, tried to take it from him and said, “No, don't actually smoke it!” but Joe was quick to hold it out of your reach as he blew out a little smoke and said, “It's perfect.”.

Joe warmed you up from the inside out and from the outside in. With more drinks, and whispered jokes, and empathetic eyes, and squeezing hugs, and with the body heat trapped between his button-down and his coat.

After one particular tight squeeze, you felt your whole body react. Unmistakably you felt it mostly inside of your underwear.

Fanny-flutter.

That sort of made sense. How could any of this not have an effect on you? And it wasn’t as if it didn’t have an effect on Joe, either.

You easily confessed, alcohol in your veins lessening the sensitivity to rejection, not at all bothered about what Joe's reaction would be. You had expected it would definitely make him feel awkward, would maybe scare him off, but instead, he’d gone, “Yea? Feel this,” and had guided your hand to his crotch. He was half-hard.

Inside, one of your friends saw and grabbed another by the forearm, eyes bulging with shock. Joe’s coat covered your hand from direct view, and the light from inside reflected in the windows, but that was definitely your hand pressing onto a penis. The windows were big and you were stood right in front. How was no one to notice this? It was just the one friend at first though, but her gasp followed by the arm grab made two people see.

Then two more.

Then five, seven– eight.

“Did he just...?”

“I fucking told you– I called it! Didn't I call this an hour ago?”

You faked needing to go to the toilet and left without telling your friends goodbye.

Two minutes later Joe excused himself, said he was tired and would see everyone next week, and had found you waiting for him just outside the building.

He took some hurried steps and stopped to stand right in front of you, peering down and smiling slightly. You’d been close all night, bodies either touching or close enough to touch, and even though it had just been mere minutes, Joe had started missing it already, so he stood close and looked down at you and smiled. Waited.

His coat was hanging open still from when you’d been inside of it, and with the wind picking up, you used it as an excuse to keep your hands and fingers busy because, what the fuck were you and Joe actually going to do?

Tension had risen enough on the balcony, and you’d essentially snuck out after revealing to each other that you’d turned each other on.

You and Joe didn’t do this.

Had never done this.

But all you knew is that you wanted to be close to him, and so your fingers slowly buttoned up his coat, starting from the bottom. Joe didn’t move and tried to control his breathing as he watched your eyes drag up his body one button at a time.

You let your hands linger after doing up the last one, fingers touching the fabric that covered his chest, and you swallowed as you stared. Imagined the skin that was hidden underneath all the layers there.

“Mine or yours?” Joe asked, voice impossibly soft.

Your breath hitched, and on the back-end of an exhale you managed to say, “You live closer.”

“All right,” Joe grinned widely and presented his open palm, “Let’s go then.”.

You grabbed onto it and turned to start the short walk, but Joe was cemented in place and pulled you right back, swinging you back and right into him. You’d have laughed at how clumsy that collision felt if it wasn’t for Joe’s lips clashing with yours on the impact.

You wished it didn’t take you by surprise as much as it did, because you knew Joe must’ve felt how you went rigid all over for a second and he was about to pull back in response. Like he’d made a mistake and only realized by your reaction.

The slightest hint of Joe not kissing you, however, was enough to kickstart your whole system and you moved to chase after him which resulted in the kiss never even breaking, and Joe released a small noise from his throat.

Not a mistake, then.

He kissed you harder when you reciprocated, and it was cold out, but Joe was warm, and you and Joe had never done this before – had never even looked at each other and considered this to be a possibility, and it was exciting. The buildup had felt so very natural and, listen, you were both adults, weren’t you? Could do what you wanted to do. Didn’t have to talk everything over because, well, doing this, doing what your bodies felt like doing, was just nicer.

Joe shook his hand from the one he was still holding onto and moved them up to hold your face. Cupped your jaw and held your head in place as he kissed you more. You had to hold onto his wrists for fear of losing balance, or maybe for fear of floating away entirely.

The sound of a balcony door opening high up above you somewhere sprung anxiety into Joe’s legs.

He broke the kiss, found your hand again and said, “Quick. Come on,” and pulled you right along the pavement, your shorter legs doing the most to try and keep up.

Quick legs nearly jogged themselves down a couple of streets, and knees impatiently clicked in and out of over-stretching as you had to wait for some cars to pass when you had to cross a road. Joe took the moment to bring your colder hand up to his face, cupping it with both of his and blowing some hot air onto your fingers before he planted kisses there.

You let an almost pained noise escape you, said, “Can’t be so sweet to me. Makes me want to be sweet back.” which was music to Joe’s ears.

About a minute removed from Joe’s flat, you felt a drop on your forehead. Then another. You held out a hand, and felt how quickly the rain picked up.

“Shit, come on,” Joe said, squinting up at the sky and tightening his grip on your hand before he started running.

It only took a second for the couple of drops to turn into a sudden torrential downpour. The water was cold, and it hurt your forehead, but you were laughing as you ran. This all felt ridiculous.

Joe had to let go of your hand to get into his building, and you saw his wet hands fumble with his keys a little. Joe noticed his own shaky fingers and knew you were watching too, so he overdid it. Shook so hard, he dropped the keys and made you laugh.

“Oh my God, hurry up,” you pretended to want to take over, but you got playfully shoved to the side and just got more wet in the process.

Both ways.

When he eventually pushed the door open, he held it and did a silly little bow whilst gesturing for you to walk inside first.

Ever the gentleman. Meant he'd be outside in the rain longer.

He took hold of you by the waist with both hands and dug his fingers in firmly over your coat. You were a tipsy mess of soft giggles as you covered his hands with yours, easily letting yourself be lead towards the lift.

Each time there was a second of you not being as close, it was his hands to moved you back in.

Outside the lift you kissed some more.

Inside the lift you kissed some more.

Outside Joe’s door you kissed some more, hands roaming over clothes.

Inside Joe’s flat you kissed some more, hands roaming under clothes.

Wet coats and shoes got discarded in a messy heap by the door.

You noticed that Joe’s ears had significantly darkened in colour, from more than the cold rain could’ve done to them. They were so fucking red, you could practically feel the phantom burn in your own.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been in here, in his flat. Maybe a couple months ago when you and some friends picked him up on your way somewhere, dipped inside real quick because one needed the toilet and another had never seen the place before.

You hadn’t been there often at all, but you knew the way to his bedroom. Made your way there blindly, because all you could see was the inside of your eyelids as Joe kept his face firmly attached to yours.

In there, you bumped your hip into a dresser and nearly tripped over something left on the floor. Joe made noises as if he could feel your pain and pulled you snug against him by the hips. Made you be able to feel his entirety through his trousers, and something in the back of your brain sparked.

Instead of focusing on your own clothes, your mind was with getting Joe out of his first. You wanted to feel him. You’d get to you later.

Wrong.

Joe got to you immediately.

He pulled on the hem of your top and worked it over your head, leaving your to blow a mess of hair from your face which didn't work because it was all wet strands that stuck to wet skin. You heard Joe suppress a giggle, used a kiss to not let it slip out, because fucking God, you were so fucking cute.

Your fingers found Joe’s trousers to undo, but Joe was quick to take over. Knew it’d be faster if he did it himself.

“You’re going to have to talk to me,” Joe panted, shoulders pulled up high and chin tucked in as he undid the button to his trousers, carefully handling the zipper. You frowned as you peeled your wet jeans from your legs, nearly losing your balance as you did.

Was okay though. Joe caught you with a strong arm before you did.

“Tell me what you like,”

Considerate. But you weren’t one to say all that much during getting to know someone like this. Joe could get some panting yesses and some encouraging moans from you to guide him along, but that’d sort of be it.

“Tell me what you don’t,” Joe added, because your lack of answer translated into hesitation from you.

The rain was really coming down harder now, violent and unrelenting, tapping hard against the windows of his bedroom. It was nice for background noise, didn’t leave the silence awkward. Muffled everything a little and you were glad you couldn't hear your own heartbeat in your ears because that meant Joe wouldn't be able to hear it rattle in your chest either.

With his arm still around your waist from making sure you didn’t topple over, Joe crowded in more, and where touches and kisses had been hurried and messy since stepping over the threshold, Joe took a second to just... be close.

Let his nose circle yours without letting your lips meet.

It turned you on so much, it kind of drove you mad.

He took a small step forwards that forced you to take one backwards.

You curled both arms behind your back to unclasp your bra, and Joe was quick to remove it from between the two of you, letting it drop to the floor. You heard his careful breathing, felt it on your face as his grip around you tightened as he slowly pushed forward more.

You took small backward steps until the back of your legs touched the bed and you made sure to wrap both arms around Joe’s neck to ensure you’d take him with you.

Joe braced an arm against the bed, slowing you both down, ensuring the wind didn't get knocked out of you.

The second your bare back touched his sheets, Joe's mouth found yours again in the dark and hands roamed where they hadn't roamed before.

“Is this okay?” Joe muttered after a while, one finger hooking the side of your underwear, like this wasn’t the sole reason for you even being there in the first place, and you nodded.

Of course this was okay.

But suddenly, almost just to fuck with him, you frowned and went, “Actually…” all serious, like you were about to leave a yelp review, and Joe pulled back immediately.

You felt how he held his breath, waiting for you to say something. Hesitant. Nervous.

“You’ve not said anythi– look, these match the bra,”

Joe’s eyes scanned down, looked over his shoulder but couldn’t see your bra at all, and then turned to look back at you, confused.

“It’s a set.”

Joe didn’t get it. Why would he fucking care if your bra matched your briefs?

Joe dipped down and kissed your neck to avoid having to answer.

Joe had also said you’d have to tell him what you liked, and... all right, fine, you could try.

“Tell me you like it, I want you to– say you like ‘em,”

“I love them,” Joe immediately obliged, speaking hot breath into your ear.

Good.

You hadn’t put the effort in for Joe specifically, because how could you have ever predicted this is where you’d end up, but you had put in effort and wanted, no needed, the validation.

“I love them so much,” Joe said, hands now working to pull them down your legs whilst you started trying to undo Joe of his underwear.

It was dark, and the air around you felt cold where the rain had left you wet, but Joe was on top of you, and you were both entirely naked now, and arousal worked hard to heat you up from the inside out. You felt yourself start to unfurl at the edges.

Joe’s hands were everywhere.

Joe’s mouth was everywhere.

“Inside,” you panted, surprised you were actually instructing.

“Yea? Where?” Joe asked, voice all breathy, his fingers stroking silky soft skin, leaving trails of tingles and slick.

You didn’t even really care where if you were honest. Just wanted to feel him inside. You’d felt it press up against you for long enough now.

“Inside,” you said again, unable and unwanting to explain yourself any further, but using your hands to help and guide, showing him rather than telling him.

And fine. Joe could be shown. Instructing didn’t always need words. Could be nonverbal all the same, Joe decided, gladly letting you help him push himself inside.

And, fuck.

Fuck.

That felt so fucking good.

Joe went slow.

Was all tender touch and paid attention. Tried to hold his breath until he couldn’t anymore. Tried to keep his groans inside until he couldn’t anymore.

Joe went slow until he couldn’t anymore, hips finding a pace all by themselves, spurred on by your moans and your finger nails that dug wherever they could dig.

Joe’s weight on top felt nice.

Joe’s hands moving your legs about rather than trying to manoeuvre you into entirely new positions was nice.

Joe’s head buried into the space between your neck and shoulder was nice.

All his sounds unmistakably close to your ear was nice.

It was all nice, and then it became good.

“Yes,” you panted, moaned loudly, and heard Joe pant and huff a proud laugh.

“Yea?”

“Mm hmm,”

You felt it creep up. Slowly, but definitely there. Joe needed to keep doing exactly what he was doing. No messing.

“Yes, don’t stop, don’t–” moans got louder, and, it fed something inside Joe. His ego, his pride, his dignity, his confidence.

It had the wrong effect.

Joe knew he was doing something good, because, look at you. But it made him want to do more. Encouraged by the noise you were making, Joe upped all of everything he was doing, and–

“No, you’re–” you laid a flat hand over his shoulder in an attempt to slow him back down.

You felt how Joe went rigid, almost halted entirely.

“Go back– you need to, do it– I said, don’t stop, you–”

You weren’t very good at using your words, but could anyone really blame you? Look at where you were. What you were doing. How you were feeling.

Joe got the message, though. Went back to what he was doing before when you had started moaning yesses and, yea, it took a little time to get back to that same place you were before. But Joe was unrelenting, just like the rain outside that got smacked against the windows by strong gusts of wind, and your orgasm hit you just like it as well.

For a second or two, you weren’t really there.

You felt Joe’s weight, felt his movement, felt his touch, but you were gone.

Heard just the rustle of wind and the clattering of raindrops, a loud static in your mind, and felt utter, utter bliss.

You floated long, tried to stretch it for as long as you could, until you suddenly were there again, in Joe's bedroom, on top of his sheets, and you heard him groan loudly. Felt his hips stutter against your own. Felt him spill deep inside.

It took Joe long to pull out.

He kind of kept going for a little bit after he came too, seemed almost hypnotised and went for as long as he could, until he couldn't anymore. Until he winced, and stopped, and carefully pulled himself out.

You awaited reality to crash into you like a shockwave, but the shock took its sweet time and you thought maybe it was saving itself for the morning, because this was always your favourite part. Straight after, where guys let their heads drop against your shoulder, against your chest, all their weight heavy on top as they caught their breath.

And Joe was just like every other guy ever, because he did the same. Rested on top of you until his breathing evened out.

But Joe was also different, because before he rolled off of you, his hands found your face to touch, to cup, to hold as he pressed kisses into sweaty skin, and then asked you if you needed anything. If he could get you something.

“The bathroom,” you said, letting a breathy laugh escape you that Joe copied.

You pushed all thoughts of doubt aside, told your mind that it could panic over the lack of protection used later. Shock was allowed to find you in the morning, you’d decided now.

“Don’t be long,” Joe mused, rolling off and moving covers to crawl underneath, revealing he expected you back. Back into bed with him. To cuddle, to snuggle, to tangle limbs and to fall asleep together.

What the fuck was your life?

You and Joe didn’t do this.

Had never done this.

But it was nice, and comfortable, and exactly what you fucking needed, so you gave in. Peed, cleaned yourself up, splashed water wherever you felt it needed splashing, and snuck right back into bed where it was warm. Where two strong arms pulled you close.

You were both naked still.

And Joe had his remnants inside you still.

But reality could find you later.

Joe warmed you up from the inside out and from the outside in.

Reality could find you in the morning.

the end

---

The Taglisted

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taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #ground rules #inside out and outside in

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