#I said I’d post this today because I was too tired last night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

icedmatchatae · 1 year

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Good for Me | KTH

Pairing: Bad Boy Taehyung x Wholesome Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, PWP (porn with plot LMAO),

Summary: You went home for the weekend, leaving a pissed-off and bruised-up Taehyung dry and devastated. So what does he do?—follow you home. Insane? Probs, but you’re always good for him so why not?

Warning: OC’s parents are those strict nosy parents who still tell you what to do even if you’re 50 years+, mentions of Christianity hfrowhouw SUE ME, i have no idea what oc and tae are but you know there’s something, mentions of violence, blood, fighting, sneaky sneaky, dom tae x subby reader but tae is needy and whipped for her, he’s just a little shit, tae has a favorite curse word—it’s fuck, TAEHYUNG IS HUGE AND HUNG, aggressive handling (but oc consented), degradation/praise combo, pet names (because I’m a simp), oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, spanking, tae enjoys seeing oc cry, licking, i think i have an obsession with orgasm control/denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), cream pie, cum play, the ending though MWAHAHAHAH

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: I’m adding on for the taewhores and also wrote one lol BLAME THE FUCKING ELLE COVERS BECAUSE THIS SHOT OUT OF MY BLEEDING VAGINA DJDBDBSB I’M REPENTING AFTER THIS also cross-posted on AO3. Posting this at 2AM because that's when the feral wolf comes out :D

“You know ___, you shouldn’t be going out and partying. What if you do drugs and we don’t know? You know you should focus on yo—”

“Dad, for the last time, I’ve been focusing on my studies.” You rolled your eyes, not wanting a whole ‘nother lecture when you’re here, and you got here today! “I rarely go out too, plus if I do, I know I have to finish my work! You’ve seen my grades!”

“Yes, I know but still. Those worldly activities won’t get you anywhere in life but trouble.” Your dad expressed his continuous concern for you. He can’t help that you were his youngest. “Especially with boys! I mean your sisters have boyfriends but we don’t want that for y—”

“Dad, please. Nothing’s going on with me.” You semi-lied. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you stared exhaustingly at him. “It’s also not fair, but I don’t want to get into that.” You muttered under your breath as your father rested his hands on his hips.

“I’m just worried about you, sweet pea, especially since you’re farther away from us than your sisters were.” He reasoned worryingly. “We rarely hear from you too.”

��Because I’m just tired and I’m usually studying.” You shrugged. “I’m safe, okay? If I’m not, I know to call you or mom.”

“Fine…” He still didn’t look convinced, but it was enough to end it…for today only. “I always pray for your safety regardless. You should get some sleep since we’re waking up early tomorrow for the church fellowship.”

“I still don’t know why you wanted me to come for the weekend.” It was random and unexpected. But your father called you a couple of days back telling you to come back home for the weekend, so as a good and obedient daughter, you did.

“Of course, you needed to come.” He said like it was obvious. “As the pastor of the church and the one who’s hosting it, I’d like all my children to come.”

“But why aren’t the other two here?” You questioned. You haven’t seen your two older sisters yet.

“I mean they live around the area, unlike you since you’re hours away. We figured that they’ll meet us over there.” He responded.

Great, you were the only one and had to deal with both of your parents for the entire weekend alone. At least your mom was already sleeping, but once she wakes up, it’ll only be twice as worse.

“Alright, well, I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.” You announced before hugging him. “Good night, love you.”

“Love you too, sweet pea, and remember, dear, the Lord is watching.” Your father pointed upwards, indicating the invisible yet existent one. You gulped before nodding obediently and going under your sheets. Before he left your room, he held the doorknob and said, “No boys, and don’t forget to pray!”

“Okay.” You didn’t even bother to look at him as you were situating yourself comfortably in bed. The bedroom lights were clicked off, yet the only light source was your bedside lamp. You heard your door closed shut and the sounds of his heavy footsteps disappeared away from your room before letting out a relieving sigh.

You don’t even know how long you could keep like this. There were many reasons why you wanted to be away for college, and this was one of them. You cheered yourself on right now, knowing that it’s just this weekend and you’ll be back in your freedom in no time.

This was where prayer came in handy, asking for the amount of strength and patience you’ll need with your parents. But it was all interrupted by the blue light and vibrations coming from your phone resting on your nightstand. This sigh you let out was more exasperated than before. You turned your head in that direction. You couldn’t really what was on it at this angle, but you definitely knew who it was.

You snatched your phone to find the 43 messages, 12 missed calls, and 2 voicemails from the one and only Kim Taehyung.

You honestly don’t know how you got into this mess, or how you weren’t able to get him away (probably because you still wanted him to be within reach). But the cycle continued.

It was probably because you were new to that town, having no background about your new hometown, and usually, those who lived there continued to stay there. You were fresh meat. But don’t get it wrong, people were nice and brought you in like you were always part of the community. You found new friends, even living with a girl who treated you so sweetly and caringly. It almost felt like they wanted to protect you from something…or rather someone.

That happened to be Taehyung.

You see here, folks. Kim Taehyung had a…infamous reputation. His name always got a reaction since the day he came into the world. What that meant was people were afraid of him. He grew up as a delinquent, had some family issues, got into loads of trouble, got suspended from school, was shipped to boarding school but got expelled and came back, and even got into countless fights. You recalled someone mentioning he once beaten his teacher up because he got a low grade that he shouldn’t have deserved.

He tended to get what he wanted. It didn’t help the fact that he came from a pretty well-off family, so whatever he did, it didn’t reach the police. Right? Fucking rich people.

Nevertheless, Taehyung’s behavior with or without his familial status was rogue. There have been rumors about him getting into gangs, drugs, you know the typical dark side of society. You couldn’t confirm nor deny it because despite his willingness to tell you, you never wanted to hear anything about it. Ignorance was bliss under this circumstance.

With that being said, when you first came here, you were instantly warned to stay away from him or else…You reasoned with, “or else what?” But then they proceeded to say the same things to you—he was dangerous, he harms others, he doesn’t care about anyone else but himself, if you’re in his way, he’ll wipe your entire existence away, and your life would get fucked up.

You did in fact listen and stayed away. You rarely knew of him or even saw him around, but it was better safe than sorry. Of course, fate begged to differ.

Oh, that’s right. That’s how you got into this mess. You were partners with him in a general requirement course, and then after briefly talking to him, you realized he wasn’t all that bad.

First off, the dude was immaculate looking, like, who wouldn’t want to stare at his chiseled features? Yeah, he stared intensely almost like he wanted to kill you, but it affected you in other ways. His voice was cavernous and velvet like you wanted him to read the Bible to you.

He looked annoyed, yet he was a chill dude. There you thought—give him a chance and a break.

Oh boy, you thought wrong. So so wrong.

But did you love it? Absolutely.

This was why you needed to repent.

You didn’t even bother reading his texts. You decided to call him and annoyingly sat up from your comfortable position. The call didn’t even ring twice because, after the first one, he answered immediately.

“Petal, where the fuck are you?” He shouted through the phone. You squinted to yourself but weren’t as affected by his tone since you were used to it by now.

“I went home for the weekend.” You simply replied.

“And didn’t fucking bother to tell me?”

“It was a last-minute thing, and it slipped my mind.” You shrugged, then you pulled your blankets off of you to get up and habitually pace around the room while you talked. “Plus, you don’t have any authority to know where I am.”

“I absolutely do have the authority whether you like it or not.”

“Ew, red flag, why?”

“I need to know if you’re safe.” His voice subsided this time, knowing he was probably pouting yet you couldn’t see it. Okay, this was rather valid since you were associated with the bad boy of the town.

“Well, I am safe. I’m away from school and all of that.” You blushed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. “I’m with my parents too. My holy parents, might I add.”

“Right, holy parents and your holy sisters who got married to other holy men.” You could hear the sarcasm leaving his mouth. “Yet there’s nothing holy about their slutty little girl and the man that’s been fucking her to hell.”

“Shhhhh, don’t say stuff like that, Taehyung!” You whisperingly yelled as you stopped your pacing to clench your legs together. You always hated how much of a potty mouth he was. Though you internally loved it. “You know I don’t like that.”

“Come on, Petal. I’m just lightening up my mood, especially since you left me.”

“I won’t be gone for that long. It’s only the weekend, and I’ll be back in no time.” You resumed your pace before standing in front of your window with your back facing it.

“That’s too long for me to not have you.”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do!”

“You can come back, Petal.”

“No, I can’t!” You shook your head. “My parents will get mad if I leave, for a boy too.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to let you take.”

“Taetae, no!” You were trying to stand your ground. You already had four lectures with your parents, you can’t argue with him right now. “I need to sleep, it’s getting late too!”

Though his heart fluttered at the use of the nickname, he was getting pissed off that you weren’t being a good girl for him. “Babydoll, be careful with your words. I’m warning you.” His voice went an octave down, shocking your body especially your cunt. Even hundreds of kilometers away, he had such a powerful effect on you.

“I am being careful! With everything. Now please, I have to get up early tomorrow. Good night, okay Taetae? I’m sorry.” You rushed your words in fear that you were getting too loud that your parents might hear.

“This isn’t ov—” You didn’t let him finish because you decided that this conversation was over. You didn’t want to get into trouble on both ends, but your parents scared you more than him. They’ll probably want to purify you if they found out you were stained by the lustful demon-like Taehyung.

Despite ending the call, here came Taehyung calling you over and over again. You could not be bothered with it, so you settled it back onto your nightstand. You were exhausted, frustrated, and horny, but sleep was above all right now. You had to bite your tongue and go to bed.

You were about to get back into your sheets when suddenly your window from the second level of the house opened, and a gust of wind pushed its way inside. Your head snapped back at the speed of light, then a large palm covered your entire mouth before you could scream your heart out.

Though in low light, your wild widened eyes saw his face. But what sparked you was his concerning appearance. While disheveled ebony hair was pushed back with little strands falling off his forehead, yet there was a deep cut with dried-up blood around its corners. Hues of purple and yellow covered his rich eyes that gleamed in the night whilst glaring deeply into your soul. The perfect bridge of his curved nose had another pained gash. His ever-so-plumped lips were peeled and split open and the corner of his mouth held bruising. Despite all, he looked so perfect in your dazed eyes.

“Good night, okay Taetae?” At a lower volume, he mimicked your voice at a higher pitch than how you actually sounded. He dropped his hand off of you and started waving both hands around. “Oh, look, I’m ___. I need my rest to go to church with my pastor dad and repent all the nasty shit I do with my Taetae.”

You didn’t even bother to point out how he was inaccurately impersonating you because you were shushing him to shut up. “Taehyung, be quiet. My parents could hear you.” You shook your head, eyes shifting from the closed door to him. Then you realized it wasn’t locked, so you rushed there to lock it immediately. You checked the knob and once it didn’t budge, you peered back at the frustrated man standing tall and intimidating. “How did you even find me?”

“I always find you.” He snorted as his eyes roamed around your childhood bedroom. Very pink with an unhealthy amount of plushies scattered around and you had so many pictures of your family. Not to mention the Bible at your desk. “We also share each other’s location.”

“I don’t even look at yours.”

“That’s your fault.” He retorted back.

“Taetae, you’re all bruised up!” You gasped as you finally saw patches of blood stains on his denim and army fabric jacket. A sleeve was torn and ripped. His knuckles held more bruising cuts and discoloration. You couldn’t even process that he had no shirt underneath because battered markings painted his torso. It wasn’t unusual to see him like this because these things occurred regularly but never made you less at ease. You reached for his hands and inspected for any other cuts and bleeding. “Noo, do you feel like you have a concussion? Is your head also okay? Will you need stitches agai—“

Out of nowhere, his long fingers grasped under your jaw, pulling you closer to his face. His grip tightened, causing you to wince in pain. Dang, he was so furious. Not bothering to answer you, he interrupted your worries. “Now the fuck you were doing, talking back at me and hanging up? You’re not being a good girl right now.”

Though you were in a light panic for him, you didn’t like when he scolded you like that. You frowned profoundly, “I-I’m a good girl, Taetae.” Your cheeks were puffed and squishy, he even struggled to put a hard exterior.

You were always so soft even before him. You didn’t like getting scolded despite hearing numerous lectures from your parents. You always wanted to be obedient to those you loved.

However, Taehyung’s scoldings hit a little differently.

“Oh yeah, does a good girl leave their man without permission?” Taehyung patronized you, he knew how to get you to fear him. You merely shook your head and apologized, but he wasn’t having it. “Words, Petal. Speak up.”

“No, they don’t. I-I’m sorry, Taehyung.”

He lets out a dark chuckle before he pressed his injured lips to your forehead. They felt soft and warm on your skin. “I don’t think you’re sorry, babydoll. Seems like the bad girl needs to be punished.”

You shook your head, lips pushing out into a pout. “No, please.” You breathed. “My paren—”

Taehyung tutted and rolled his eyes before using the hand that held your face to coerce your head down so you can drop down to your knees. “Kneel before me, slut.”

You whimpered weakly as your knees landed on the ground with a loud thud. Your palmed rested in front of his dirtied boots. Your heart palpitated fast in fear of getting caught, but your mind was preoccupied with the unexpected slap from the man before you.

You bit your lips deeply, trying not to make any more sounds. The tears in your eyes threatened to be released but you also held back by squeezing your eyes shut. More so to not give Taehyung satisfaction. But when you peeled them back open and looked up, it was over for you.

He leered down at you, his stone demeanor expanded by the second. You noticed his naked chest raising harshly from the breaths he took. You immediately felt smaller and smaller the longer you stared at each other in this position.

“Be a good girl and take my cock out”. He commanded as he threaded his fingers through your hair and yanked you closer. “Now.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer. Your trembling hands tugged his belt off. You tried your best to quicken up the pace, but it seemed to hold you back as you struggled with the button pants and zipper. Taehyung noticed too so he fastened his grip on you to tell you to hurry up, making you weep.

“S-sorry.” You apologized quietly but it wasn’t enough for him. Once you pulled his pants down, you were met with a familiar bulge in his underwear. When you freed him, his monstrous dick slapped his toned stomach and bounced before you.

Taehyung never failed to amaze you with how colossal he was. The first time you saw it you wanted to run away, but he caught you and you got hooked. His darkened mushroom head was huge while the base was thick and his curved length was long and veiny. It was the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and seemed that God blessed him very well.

Nothing happened between the two of you yet but the slit of his tip pearled fluids. You gawked agape with your mouth parted and tongue swiping your lips. His dick twitched, waiting for you to do something but you were too mesmerized.

Impatiently, using his unoccupied hand, he seized your jaw again, keeping your mouth open. “You’re fucking taking too long.” It didn’t take him long to bring your lips to his cock and push all of him in one motion.

You let out a muffled cry with watery eyes. If the tears fell before, they sure did now. Your throat muscles throbbed around him from the unexpected slamming. You gagged painfully, especially since his blunt head hit the back of your throat. Your mouth produced trickling drool all over him and down your chin. You were by no means prepared, but Taehyung didn’t seem bothered as he began his harsh pace.

You held onto his muscular thighs. You were crying so much but your sobs were smothered by the cruel thrusts of his rabid cock. Despite the sting, the actions sent a flood to your thin underwear. The familiar warmth covered your stomach, clenching your thighs together for some pressure on your poor leaking cunt.

“Fuck, Petal. Shit.” He cursed lowly. His cavernous moans echoed through the air. “Look at me.” His order sounded like a threat. He stopped his movements; his cock halfway in your mouth. When you opened your heavy lids, he looked so hot and bothered even in your blurry vision. “My pretty girl.” His thumb wiped off the trail of tears.

You were always pretty in his eyes, smiling, and laughing, even when you get angry at his annoying ass. But he especially thought you were pretty when he made you cry like this.

Then he went back to bobbing your head brutally on him. Your nails scratched his thighs, leaving indents on them. You retched again, spit drenching all over him. “Fucking amazing for a slut like you. Is this what you wanted, since you’re a fucking bad girl?”

You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t so you shook your head and whimpered. You weren’t a bad girl. You were good!

You were getting lightheaded, feeling so stuffed to even breathe. Taehyung observed your face getting a little pale. You always forgot to learn how to breathe when giving him a blow job.

He pressed into you once more and a bit longer than usual, so he can imprint the feeling of your mouth again into his spank bank. He ultimately pulled out, leaving a long string of drool from his tip to your crimson lips. His dick covered in your sweet saliva.

You heaved profoundly and wept here and there. You wanted to tell him off, but you were too scared to say anything. You pushed the tears away with the back of your hand and gulped your words but it pained you to do that.

“God, you’re messy,” He laughed cynically at you. “Aww, you’re upset, babydoll?” He asked condescendingly.

“N-no,” You sniffed, trying your best to be strong. “I’m not.”

“Good, you better not.” He said, letting go of your hair. “Stand up.”

This time you were swift on your feet. Though with painful reddened knees, you stood up wobbly and held Taehyung’s biceps for some support. He hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you to be chest to chest with him.

Being like this, you saw how he towered over you. The height difference wasn’t compared to a gremlin and the Incredible Hulk but he was still way taller than you. He absorbed your appearance, finally taking in how you wore a cute brown bear pajama shirt and matching shorts. The fresh aroma of roses from your body wash and your natural scent swirling into his nostrils sent his pheromones into a frenzy. He wanted you so badly.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you while your parents are sleeping?” His hot breath splashed your face, fluttering you into submission. You unconsciously nodded excitingly but it caused him to tut at you. “I’m not gonna tell you again. Exact words, babydoll.”

“Yes!” You shouted too quickly that only after you caught yourself, covering your mouth with your palms. He smirked at your reaction—so needy for him. Just the way he loved it. Your hands slowly traveled to his shoulders as you batted your beautiful irises at him. You didn’t like swearing, but it came often when you were with him alone. “Uhh, p-please f-fuck me. I’m your good girl, Taetae.”

The perfect answer.

He bent down to peck the tip of your nose then went further down to lick the trunk of your neck. He picked a spot before suckling around to mark his territory. You mewled at the sensation, slithering your arms around his nape. He began moving towards your bed while you stepped back, following his lead until you fell back onto the sheets of your mattress. Your back rested while your legs hung at the edge of the bed.

Your unapologetic eyes wandered his frame.

He kicked his pants and boots off his ankles, leaving him in only his jacket. But even that, he took off. The faded and lighter scars sprawled his torso, showing evidence of fights and brawls through the years. The fresher wounds battered his rough skin and once you saw gauges wrapped around his right hip with blood patches seeping through, you sat up straight with pupils dilated.

“Taehyung, your—”

“I didn’t tell you to speak,” He growled, and stalked to the bed before pushing your shoulder roughly to lay back down. Your body bounced, trying to process what was happening but he tugged your shorts and panties down and off your skin.

He kneeled in front of you, callous palms spreading your thighs apart to reveal your leaking puffy pussy. He didn’t even touch you and you were this soaked. He inhaled deeply, taking in your sweet essence.

Jesus Christ, you were always embarrassed when he did that. It was like his human nature devolved into animalistic instincts. His mouth had a mind of its own, nibbling your inner thighs and placing even more marks on you like he wanted to claim you. You gasped quietly, jerking a little. So sensitive as always. His thumbs stretched your nether lips apart, revealing more of you to him. The petals of your sex opened for him. Your little hole throbbing around nothing but secreted so much wetness, even spotted your tiny clit inflamed, begging to be touched.

But to your luck, Taehyung wasn’t the type to get on with it right away…well he can, but most of the time, he chose not to. No, sir, he took his time with you, to the point you had to drop your pride and beg. His fingers lightly caressed your sex, enough for you to feel it but do no pleasure.

“Tae,” You whined, hands reaching for him but he swatted them away.

“Don’t touch me, put them on your sides.” He seethed through his teeth.

“But—”

Smack! The slap stung your cunt, making you welp loudly. He does another and your head turned to the side. You cried, pressing your face into your blankets. Taehyung continued hitting your pussy until it was red and sensitive.

“Naughty girl!” He slapped your lips once more, jolting your feeble body. “What’s wrong with you tonight? You think just because you’re with your family that you forgot all the rules we had, hm??”

“N-n-no.” You sobbed, shaking your head cowardly. “I promise I reme—”

A knock came on your bedroom door.

Both of your heads shot toward the direction with wide eyes. Another knock happened again before the person on the other end said, “___?” Another knock. “Sweet pea, I heard noises. Are you good?” Then the fucking knob jiggled, but fortunately, you locked it. “Why’d you lock the door? What are you doing?”

Shoot, it was your dad. Your pastor dad. Now your heart was heavy and dropped down to your uneasy stomach. You needed to say something quickly, but no words came out. You shifted to see Taehyung who shrugged and smirked devilishly, leaving you to fend for yourself.

It was only until your dad said, “Do I need to use the spare keys to open the door?” That you spoke up.

“No! I’m good, I just…I accidentally dropped my phone on my face.” You lied, praying he’d buy it.

“You and your dang phone.” He complained through the door. Taehyung’s mouth went wide with silent laughter hearing you get scolded. You pursed your lips, shaking your head. He was no help at all because there was a gleam of mischief and it wasn’t a good sign at all. “You need to get off of that thing, sweet pea. You won’t have enough sleep. Remember you’re joining the praise team in the morning.”

“Yes, dad! I know. I’m sorry to—unghhh.” Your sentence was interrupted by the sudden breach from Taehyung’s two long fingers sliding in so smoothly into your cunt.

“___? ___, are you okay?” Your dad questioned as he continuously knocked on your door.

It didn’t take long for Taehyung to find your g-spot, curling his fingers to muscle memory. His digits pumped into you, and at times, he thumbed your clit. He had your eyes rolling back and biting your lips to stop your struggling whimpers. “I-I’m f-fine right now. D-d-ahh worry!”

“Are you sure you’re fine? You sound like you’re in pain.”

Taehyung dived into your pussy, taking a long lick before wrapping his lips around your sensitive nub. The tips of his fingers did their magic hitting your insides, playing with the squish of immense ecstasy.

You shrieked involuntarily, fisting the blankets under you as you threw your head back. “Yes, I’m fine!” You groaned distressingly. “I-I’m so…touched by my prayer before sleeping.” You swore faintly when Taehyung suckled and flattened his tongue on your clit.

“Prayer to the Lord is always so emotional, sweet pea.” Your father pointed out, but you really didn’t give a shit. “Alright, don’t want to disturb your time. Hope you get some sleep soon though. Good night.”

His footsteps faded away and you mentally cheered that you didn’t get caught, but you had sudden guilt that you basically spoke to your father with a guy eating you out.

Taehyung released his mouth off you to see how you appeared, crumbling at his touch. Your face wrinkled together with your mouth parted, and you saying his name with your pretty voice had his aching cock twitching. He reached over to the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your soft bare breasts and hardened nipples. “Such a pretty girl. Touched by the prayer? No, no, I’m the one you should be praying to.”

“D-don’t say that.” You moaned he knew you were very much in tune with your spirituality but he also liked to mess around with you.

“Why, Petal? You don’t like what I say, hmm?” He pouted mockingly, pushing his fingers deeper into you. You gasped, digging your head into the mattress. “I’ll give you everything that you want.” These blankets did no justice, you needed to hold onto him. You put your hand out, silently asking to hold him. Taehyung was mean but he wasn’t that mean…at least not today, so he accepted your request and intertwined his vacant hand with yours.

He felt your cunt getting tighter, understanding what was about to happen. Well, remember how Taehyung wasn’t that mean? That statement was taken back because he said, “Don’t come until I say so.”

You whined, giving your best doe-eyes and pinkest pout. “Please, Taetae. Wanna cum.”

Without removing any touch of you, he stood from his feet before covering your entire body with his large one. His face leaned down until your noses touched. “No.” He simply replied, yet his pace wasn’t slowing down. “Hold it.”

Your eyes twitched, wrestling to keep your orgasm under control. He always loved to play with you like this. You attempted to stabilize your breathing, deep and slow breaths. In…and out. In…and out. Yeah, this wasn’t working when Taehyung’s four-inch fingers were jamming into you. The pressure in your stomach tightened, clenching your abdominals to get your reach. It wasn’t a good girl thing to do, but he was mean!

“Can’t! Please!” You begged once more, knowing it couldn’t be stopped.

“No, be a good girl.”

Sorry, Taehyung but it was too late. Your eyes were already going to the back of your head, and you were prepared for the high of it all. But once you started arching your back, he pulled his fingers and hand away from you. You still had your orgasm but it felt so weak going through it without him helping you come down. Your pussy burned unpleasantly.

He glared at you, watching your lousy orgasm go to waste. All because you didn’t listen to him. But whose fault was that? Taehyung will never take the blame.

Pathetically unsatisfied, you came down and exhaled. It physically and emotionally pained you how shitty that orgasm was. And with a pissed-off Taehyung looming over you, it’ll be torture.

“Bad, bad girl.” Taehyung was disappointed at you, something you grimaced over. “I told you not to but you didn’t it anyway.”

“I couldn’t stop it…” You whispered.

“Couldn’t stop yourself? You really are a fucking slutty bad girl.” Getting slightly self-conscious from his jeering eyes, you closed your legs and covered your chest. Your face flushed with post-orgasm and shame.

Taehyung saw your actions, softening his tough demeanor. He lifted you to the middle of the bed before climbing over your concealed body. At this angle, the moonlight struck his body. Every muscle and indent defined, every wound and bruise visible, every part of him shined so beautifully and perfectly.

His knees spread your legs open to go in between while carefully pulling your arms off your chest. His face goes down to yours, planting little kisses all over your face in hopes he doesn’t make you feel too bad. “Tell me if I go too far, Petal. Don’t hide from me.”

You shook your head, “You’re not. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’ll be good, I promise.”

You were soooo good to him. He smiled tenderly, pecking another on the tip of your nose before the demon smirk came back. “Then you’re still gonna get it. Get on your knees.”

You nodded and were about to twist your body when Taehyung grasped your waist and flipped you over. He pushed down your back, arching your ass up before landing a loud slap to it. You cried into the pillow, hugging it as if it was like your protection. He slapped the other cheek, receiving another reaction from you.

“Since you’re weak at controlling yourself,” He grabbed his thick length. His head played with you, gliding across the slit and collecting your saturation until he aligned it with your hole. He puts a little bit of pressure, enough to make you moan for more but then stopped. “Maybe I should punish you by giving more than what you can handle.”

That was…even worse. But you had to accept it, so you could be the good girl for him.

Knowing he could maim you, he steadily filled you up. You felt every inch of him getting deeper and deeper inside, the stretch of your pussy left a dull ache. He held your hips as he guided himself in. Once he bottomed out, the both of you let out a sigh of relief. Every time you do this, it always felt like the first time because of how big he was.

“So fucking tight, Petal.” He hissed. The sensation of you pulsating had his head thrown back.

After a while, the two of you knew it was time for him to move. Taehyung pulled himself back, leaving his head and then piercing back in. You jolted forward, but he kept you firmly to continue his aggressive yet even pace. Each penetration to your spot left you wailing into the pillow, gripping its covers. The slapping of your skin resonated in your childhood bedroom, the only sound that could be heard other than Taehyung’s heavy breathing and your keens.

“This is what you wanted, right?” Taehyung asked lowly before speeding up his movements, making you louder in the cushion. When he didn’t get the answer that he wanted, he looped your hair around his hand and hauled your upper body until your back pressed to his sweaty chest. You winced in pain but you hooked an arm around his neck.

“I want—unggh, y-yes.” Tears fell on your cheeks. Your neck extended to the side, giving him full access to licking and sucking your skin. “A-am I being a—your good g-girl?”

“You’re such a fucking good girl, Petal. Fucking good girl.” He praised you, muffling into your neck. His other hand kneaded your boob, massaging your nipple between his appendages. You groaned at the added touch. The twist in your stomach rose, sensing another high coming soon. Taehyung noticed you tightening around his ramming shaft, so he slid his hand down to your clit and made circular motions. “Cream around my cock again. Come on, pray to me. Bless my name with your sweet sounds.”

“Taehyung, please, please, ahh.” You breathed heavily, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder. His length ravaged your insides and his fingers pinched your sensitivity until the knot released. You splashed with blistering ecstasy, almost about to scream at the top of your lungs but his palm covered your pitched sounds. You stifled chants of his name with your rolling eyes, even lapping your tongue over his callous. His thrusts slowed down this time, easing you down. He showered you with compliments, kissing your jaw and cheek.

Once you came back, he took himself out of you to lay you down. He needed to see your face clearly at least once. He grabbed himself and plunged in again. You keened in volume, but Taehyung shushed you. “Babydoll, be quiet. Don’t want your dad to exorcise the both of us.”

You nodded pliantly and slapped hands over your lips. He moved at his previous pace, yet your sensitivity increased after your two orgasms. You were overstimulated but pushed through to help him meet his climax. He handled your hips where it would leave bruises days after. He hunched over to your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling it with his tongue.

His touch was a mixture of all—needy, urgent, warm, cool, rough, and supple. You loved it all, you wanted more of him. You quivered into your palms, muting the uncontrollable noises escaping you.

He popped off your nub. His thrusts jerked faster and sloppier, recognizing how close he was. His resonant whimpers rung through your ears. It was like his thumb was magnetic to your clit because it was on you again and flicking rapidly. You shuttered, shaking your head at the intensity. It was too much. “One more for me, Petal. I wanna feel you, please.”

Darn, he said please. There was no way to deny him. After four more pumps, he buried himself still. He painted your insides white with his cum, whining your name. Meanwhile, you tirelessly came again. Blinding white spots came into your vision, ringing happened in your eardrums. The feeling of scorching euphoria spread all over your body as you curved your spine. Your hands were replaced with Taehyung’s mouth, sluggishly kissing you and keeping you as quiet as possible but let’s be real.

He kissed your lips once more before scooting in between your neck and shoulder to leave more smooches on your perspiring skin. His cum inside electrified you, feeling it flood around. It wasn’t until his softening dick pulled out of you, that the dam of cum seeped out your weeping pussy.

What an immaculate sight that he couldn’t resist.

Your energy-drained body thought it was over. But Taehyung had other plans because once you felt his tongue on your enlarged overloaded clit, you gasped in shock. “Taehyung, can’t anymore!” Your fingers attempted to push him off of you but you were too helpless and fatigued to overpower his strength.

He tasted the concoction of both of your cum, playing with the juice all over you and his mouth. He was addicted to the taste, vibrating another low moan to your clit.

You begged for him to stop, but he wasn’t going to finish until you came one more time. He lets go hastily and said, “Last one. Come on, Petal.”

Then there was your last orgasm. It was weaker than the previous, better than the first, but the most agonizing one. It burned but was so divine. You shoved your face into your cushion, crying away from every sensation and emotion you felt.

Taehyung was finally off of you and went up your body to kiss you again. But you were so lethargic, you couldn’t keep up and lay there like a Twinkie. You didn’t even comprehend how he walked out of your bedroom to look for the bathroom, knowing damn well your parents could see him.

But he made it back alive and unseen with a damp cloth to clean you up. He wiped you clean as you stared at him with so much endearment and swell to your heart even after pounding you like an animal.

After he was done cleaning, he threw the dirtied rag to the ground before climbing back in bed and putting the covers over your naked bodies. “You did so good, ___. My good girl, my favorite girl.” He pressed a kiss on your temple before you fell into slumber.

“___, wake up! We’re gonna be late!” Harsh knocks through your door disrupted your dreams. You groaned loudly, wanting to go back to sleep. “Sweet pea, get dressed!” It was your mom calling for you. You rubbed your eyes sluggishly in your raggedy state and rolled over. With squinting lids, you searched for your phone to check the time.

You overslept, and you panicked a bit. You kept your cool, it was fine. This was a small bump, but you’ll get over it.

Suddenly, something or someone shifted beside you. You turned your head before you were fully awake by your heart dropping down and coming out of your ass. A peaceful hibernating and naked Taehyung was by your side, cuddling your body. No wonder you woke up with furnace-like heat against you.

Immediately, you shot out of your bed to stand up but you completely forgot that after a night with Taehyung, you become temporarily paralyzed from the waist down. So you stood up and your feeble numb legs made you drop to the floor.

“___, are you awake? I heard a noise.” Your mom questioned again.

“Yeah,” you grimaced at how raspy your voice was. “I-I just woke up, I’m sorry.” You crawled towards the other side of the bed where Taehyung was.

“You have 30 minutes! I told you not to stay up late at night! You know…”

You tuned out her lecture because you were trying to wake Taehyung up in fear that you might get caught. “Taetae, wake up.” You were usually so gentle because it took him a while to fully get up but you slapped the shit out of him.

His eyes stammered open in surprise. He bolted awake and in pain. He was about to yell but you covered his mouth as you stared with alarming pupils. “It’s morning, my parents are awake. I need to get ready and you need to leave.”

“___! Are you listening to me? Do I need to open your door to get you ready?” Your mother complained, trying to open your door but it was still locked. “I’m getting the key—”

“No, mommy!” You protested. Both of your heads directed to the door with widened eyes. “I swear I’ll get ready. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Okay…I’m almost done with breakfast.” She announced.

You breathed out in relief, knowing you were clear for now. But once you looked over to the naked man still in your bed, you had another morning task to do. “You need to leave. If I don’t come out in five minutes to go get my teeth brushed, my parents will come to get me out.”

Usually, Taehyung would play around, but he knew this time meant business. He nodded obediently. You rolled away to give him some space to get out and gather his scattered clothes. As he was getting dressed, you watched him.

The bruises, the cuts, and that deep wound were all still there. It made you upset, frowning at the mere thoughts of what Taehyung dealt with before coming to see you. You never liked what business or situation he was in, you didn’t know fully but again, just by looking at it, it was not good.

Taehyung detected your staring, but he was surprised at your sad state. “What’s wrong, Petal?”

“I know I said I don’t wanna know what you do, but it won’t change the fact that I don’t like seeing you get hurt.” You explained. “I’m seeing all of this and I’m worried sick, Taetae.”

He sighed, putting his jacket back on then walking over to pick you up on your feet. You used him as leverage. You acted like a baby dear standing on its legs for the first time, making him chuckle at your struggling state but it was too adorable. “I’m sorry for worrying you. You probably wanted to know what happened and I’ll tell you more about it later, but let’s just say I’m trying to get out of the things.”

Your eyes sparkled with joy, “You are? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

He smiled and shook his head, “I’m not just saying that. I’m serious. I’ve been…in it for a long time but I’ve been also wanting to stop.” You nodded understandingly. “Wanna do this for myself, but for you. I don’t want any of them or other affiliations to find you and use you against our will. It’s not easy, hence why I arrived like this, but it’ll come to an end.”

“Okay,” You grinned sweetly before puckering your lips and waiting for him to come.

He leaned down and accepted you, He circled his arms around your body as he kissed you tenderly. He parted away, foreheads touching. “I’m gonna miss you, Petal.”

“As I said, it’ll only be this weekend. I’ll be back tomorrow night.” You reassured but it wasn’t enough to prevent the pout on his lips. “Come on.”

The two of you walked over to the window. He opened the pane as he prepared his descent. His legs were out hanging, his arms and torso still inside your room. You went over to give him one last kiss for his travels back.

“I’ll miss you too, Taehyung.” You giggled, captivating his entire heart.

Feeling overwhelmed with the thoughts and emotions of you, he blurted out, “I love you so much, ___.” It was the first time either of you said it, and he just realized what he said when his eyes grew the size of saucers and stared at him like he was insane. You were a fish, opening and closing your mouth with no words coming out. You didn’t know how to react, but you definitely felt your heart palpitating briskly.

Before you could finally say anything, he abruptly goes, “Okay, well, yeah bye. See you in psychology class.” He descended as fast as he could, trying to get away as possible. You didn’t even watch him out the window, which was a good thing for him as reached the ground. While walking away, he was mentally screaming at himself and fisting the air at what he did.

You were finally dressed and appropriate for church. You fixed the clip in your hair before walking out of your room and down the stairs. Yet your thoughts were elsewhere and about the boy who was in your room not too long ago.

He said I love you. The fucking bad boy of the town confessed his love for you. What the fuck? First of all, you weren’t even together. You didn’t know what you were, whatever. The only thing you knew was that Taehyung would beat the shit out of any guy that came your way. Second, it was an odd choice to say a confession after a sneaky night at your lover’s childhood house with their parents sleeping at the end of the hallway.

Thirdly, you knew what your feelings were but the little shit didn’t give you a chance to comprehend and tell your side. Ugh, now you have to deal with him opening up once you were back in town.

You reached the kitchen, greeting your parents. Your mom told you to take a seat as she prepared a plate for you. She glanced at you, then took another look intently yet you didn’t seem to notice.

Once seated, your father scrolled his phone for news and reread his notes for his sermon. He gazed up at you, then did a double take before raising an eyebrow yet you didn’t see his stare as your mom walked towards the table with your breakfast.

You were too busy looking down at the settled breakfast before to spot the questionable looks your parents made. Once you were about to devour your eggs and kimchi, your dad stopped you. “What were you doing last night?”

You blinked, “I was on my phone late at night, and did my emotional prayer, remember?” Your father hummed, nodding eerily calmly.

Then your mother spoke up as blunt and knowledgeable as she was. “Then why do you have hickeys all over your neck?”

A/N: There will NOT be a part two :D

#matcha masterlist #taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfiction #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts x reader

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ieatstarsforaliving · 7 months

Text

The Origin (1)

Summary: How you and Hazel and the fight club started. Also Hazel's Spider-Woman. But you don't know that.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mentions of bruises and cuts, Idk what else

Word Count: 1508

Note: It's literally my first post. It may suck. I don't care. I don't get paid for this. I hope you do enjoy though, cause there's not enough Spider-Woman Hazel Callahan fics out here. Love yall - Bia <3

“You got paired up with (Y/N) for the ‘women murdered in history’ project?”

Hazel nodded at Josie’s question. She had just left Mr. G’s class with PJ and Josie where he had introduced a new project to create a diorama based on a famous woman who was murdered. The partners were chosen by random, and to Hazel’s horror, she was paired up with you.

Who just happened to be Hazel’s crush for 4. fucking. years.

Hazel had many moments of crises in her 18 years of life, which included getting bitten by a radioactive spider during sophomore year at a school field trip to the science fair, getting caught by Josie and PJ’s spider-trap (Where PJ wanted to catch Spider-Woman for her youtube channel with a net, and she actually managed to?) and Hazel had to reveal her secret identity, and her mother’s recent divorce with her minor-fucking, emotionally unavailable father.

But none of them made Hazel as frantic as being paired with you for a school project.

“Thats fucking amazing,” PJ said in jealousy. “How come that never happens with me and Brittany? I got paired up with that one emo kid who probably wants to blow up the school.”

Hazel groaned, leaning her head against her locker. She was already tired from last night’s fight with a local bank robbery, which led to her face scratched and bandaged up today. She couldn’t stop thinking about how she was going to impress you.

“Okay, well, you don’t look very happy considering you’re like, obsessed with her,” Josie commented. She was well used to Hazel’s constant remarks about how pretty you looked during class or how you made eye contact with her for 2 seconds.

“I’m fucked. I just get so nervous around her,” Hazel replied, anxiety seeping out from her voice. “I have never really had a conversation with her other than, ‘hello’. If I can’t even talk to her properly, how am I going to do a whole project with her?”

PJ rolled her eyes. “Hazel, why are you so worried? You literally swing down tall ass buildings and beat up tall ass criminals, and you can’t even talk to a girl that you like? Didn’t your spider powers give you like, enhanced everything?”

“I’m pretty sure the whole point of Hazel’s secret identity is for you to not talk about it out in the open, PJ.”

“I’m just saying, if I saved the neighborhood every night wearing a red and blue spandex lady gaga suit, I’d be getting so much puss right now.”

The two continued to bicker as Hazel sighed. PJ was right. It was just a project. It wasn’t a big deal, it was only for a week, and she was certain you were straight anyways. All she had to do was just man up and talk to—

“Hazel?”

Hazel jumped, turning around from her locker to see you standing with an alluring smile on your face. You wanted to talk to your project partner before the start of next class, who seemed to be very stunned at the sight of you. She looked like a puppy, with her widened blue eyes and her tousled brown hair.

Hazel blinked rapidly and clutched her notebook, barely managing to reply with a small, “Hi.”

“I don’t know if you remember me. I’m (Y/N),” You introduced yourself, starting to offer your hand but retracting immediately because you realized that you’re a high schooler and that it’s probably lame to shake hands in this day and age. “I’m partnered up with you for Mr. G’s class—”

“-Yeah, I know who you are. (Y/N),” Hazel said, almost too quickly, causing her friends to hold in their laughter. “Mr. G’s project. Yeah– I can work on it. All of it, if you want.”

“No, of course not, we can work on it together,” You laughed, before recognizing all the injuries on Hazel’s face. “By the way, you’re pretty bruised up. Are you okay?”

Hazel instantly touched her bandages, feeling a bit embarrassed at her state.

“’m fine. I just fell.”

You frowned, staring intensely at Hazel’s face. “I don’t think you can get these cuts from falling.”

“Well, some of them are from falling and some of them aren’t...” Hazel trailed off as you came closer, your face filled with genuine worry. You knew Hazel wasn't exactly popular, but you didn’t know she was bullied. Hazel slowly backed away, her heart beating out of her chest as her back made contact with her locker.

Hazel's Face started to burn up, turning to Josie for help. Josie stuttered, “This is nothing, she just– she’s part of this— this club, and—”

“A club? What kind of club fucks up her face like this?” You interrupted, your hands reaching out and brushing Hazel’s bangs out of the way, carefully examining the bandages. “Is it like a fight club?”

“Yes!”

“No–”

“-More like a women’s self defense club?”

You looked at the three girls who’ve provided different answers all at the same time.

PJ spoke up first.

“Yes, we absolutely do have this club where girls fucking beat each other up and shit for… feminism. So that we can teach girls how to protect themselves from the evil male football players.”

“You know how to fight?” You asked, staring at PJ who barely had any muscles.

“Yes. Because, We… went… to… juvie over the summer.”

You blinked.

“...There’s also a serious lack of female solidarity in this school,” Hazel stiffly added.

“Right. Okay, that’s fine, I guess,” You accepted. “Could I join?”

“Yes. Absolutely!” PJ exclaimed, her face lighting up immediately. “You could bring your friends too. You know. Specifically your cheerleader friends. Specifically Brittany and Isabel.”

Before you could question why specifically Brittany and Isabel, the bell rang to inform the students for the start of next class.

“Okay, here—” You took the notebook Hazel was holding and quickly scribbled your number on one of the pages. “Message me so we can talk about the project. And the club. Is that okay?”

You handed the notebook back as Hazel nodded, in denial that you just gave her your fucking phone number. You waved before running off to your next class, feeling happy that you had made a new friend. (haha friend…)

Meanwhile, Josie was losing her mind.

“PJ, what the fuck are you doing?”

“This is absolutely perfect!”

“No, it’s not, PJ— we don’t have a feminist women’s self-defense fight club. You also don’t care about feminism. Your favorite movie is Entourage.”

“Okay, first of all, shut up, and second, we can just make the club now, obviously. Come on– I just created the perfect opportunity for all of us to talk to Brittany, Isabel, and (Y/N)!”

“Hazel, please tell PJ that she’s insane,” Josie turned to Hazel.

Hazel grinned and said;

“She gave me her number.”

Josie groaned. “Congratulations! But we have a bigger problem now. We don’t know how to defend ourselves!”

“Self-defense is common sense. You try to punch me in the face. I stop it from happening. Whatever, I don’t care, it’s easy,” PJ shrugged, holding a MMA fighter stance and started throwing air punches.

“Yeah, maybe for Hazel, who literally has the… spider tingles? Hazel tingles?”

“Please do not start calling it Hazel tingles.”

“And let’s not forget, you literally have superhuman strength,” Josie cautioned. “If we do this— very big if, we just run the biggest risk of exposing you and your spider identity. One wrong punch and you’ll send a girl to the hospital.”

PJ turned to Hazel and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Hazel, listen to me. We teach a bunch of girls how to defend themselves against the evil high school fuckboys. They are grateful to us. Adrenaline is flowing— next thing you know, Isabel, Brittany, and (Y/N) are kissing us on the mouths!”

Hazel paused. “I don’t know. Like Josie said, it’s a huge risk. The last thing I’d want to do is put (Y/N) in danger.”

A sardonic smile played on PJ’s lips. She tapped on Hazel’s notebook.

“Hazel, she gave you her number.”

Hazel stood, her mind racing once again. PJ’s idea of starting a self-defense club was dangerous, she knew that. She would be gaining attention all while showing off her fighting skills, which is what she had been hiding for years. Josie’s warning echoed in her mind. But then she remembered the way you had looked at her, with darling concern in your eyes when you asked about her injuries. She hadn’t had anyone worry for her like that in a while.

Hazel took a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Josie cried.

“She said okay! It's an okay! We’re doing this!” PJ screamed, grabbing Hazel’s hand and pulling her towards the school’s office to create the club. “We’re going to lose our virginities this year! This is the year!”

“Okay, but who’s going to be crazy enough to even advise this club?” Josie yelled after them, but the two were long gone.

Next Chapter: The Fucking Fight Club

#bottoms movie #hazel callahan #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x reader #josie bottoms #pj bottoms #hazel callahan spiderwoman #hazel callahan x you #bottoms (2023)

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foreverdolly · 15 days

Text

this is a self pitying post and i’ll probably delete it later- but when i’m sad i tend to write it out. i’ve used this blog like a diary of sorts for the last two and a half years. i’ve developed a relationship with a lot of you on here and i appreciate all the love i’ve received so far on my last post. my friends that i have in real life, no matter how long i’ve known them, don’t know too much about my upbringing or my parents. i hate the idea of trauma dumping- it’s uncomfortable for other people: so don’t read this if you don’t want to. i wouldn’t blame you.

my dad died from cirrhosis due to alcoholism. he died miserable and alone. he had no friends. his family was sick of him. i tried to call him as often as i could but sometimes he could be mean if he was drunk. i knew not to call him after 11:00 in the afternoon because he would start to drink. he lived in his youngest brother’s basement and almost never came upstairs because he was embarrassed. i haven’t seen him in three years because he lives fourteen hours from me, but i tried my hardest to call him every week and keep him involved in my life. he never saw any of my homes, never met any of my friends, and never even saw me drive a car (i’ve been licensed since i was eighteen). i cried to him almost every week, begging him to get sober.

he never recovered from my parent’s divorce, and for that i feel so sorry. he called my mother his soulmate and always spoke in past tense- talking about when me and my brother were little. he would tear up when talking about the first time he ever saw me in the hospital after my mother gave birth, and he was vocal about the fact that i was his favorite. we shared a lot of the the same interests and always had fun when talking.

when my mom made a suicide attempt two years ago he was there for me almost everyday, calling me despite the demons he was battling with himself.

the last time i spoke to him was thursday- a week from the day he died. he told me that he almost called a treatment facility but he got tired and took a nap instead. his doctors appointment was today at one and he was going to ask to be admitted and then go to a rehab facility. i told him i’d send him money while he was in there- he hasn’t been able to hold a job since i was still in high school.

my dad was a chef. a damn good cook- classically trained in french cooking. he had the loudest laugh i’ve ever heard, so much so that it used to make me cry when i was a baby. we used to wear matching costumes and he’d sign me out from school on halloween and call me out the day after. he took me to my first concert, but he couldn’t afford both the gas and the tickets (so i paid for the gas with my pocket change at the age of thirteen). he wore adidas strictly- shell toe was his favorite.

when i was little my dad was on night duty while my mom was away: tucking us in, reading us books. he refused to read to me and walked out the door but not before saying “bed bugs and stuff”. i thought it was so funny. it became our saying. every night we spent with each other we said “bed bugs and stuff”. so that was my last send off to him. i hope he’s finally resting well and isn’t depressed, ashamed or lonely anymore where he is.

he died in his sleep. they found a solo cup filled with vodka next to his bed and i can’t stop thinking about the fact that he was going to get help today. he was yellow due to jaundice. what a cruel world.

#i genuinely don’t know what to do

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darylsdelts · 13 days

Text

IT’S A LOT

This is an old Drabble I wrote on wattpad so I thought I’d post on here <3

Darylxfemale!reader

Warnings: anxiety/panic attacks (reader)

Kinda based off personal experience so it might not be relatable to everyone

Today was supposed to be your day off, the day you usually lay around in your home in Alexandria with your boyfriend, Daryl, although he never really lays around. He's one of those people who has to always be doing something or he'll get fidgety, not you though, you'll happily lie in and stay in your pyjamas all day.

That's what you were supposed to be doing today, but no. Rick had knocked on the front door of your and Daryl's shared house at 6am, he had wanted Daryl to go hunting since the group was running low on food.

You had wanted so badly to lay in bed with Daryl for at least two more hours but Daryl had obviously agreed... it was either that or starve so you guess it's fair enough.

However, you insist you go with him, you usually wouldn't since you're not much of a hunter but the night before was a tough one for Daryl, he was upset after opening up to you about something that is quite frankly nobody else's business but yours and his.

Anyway... now you're treading lightly behind Daryl whilst he leads the way through the forest. He's tired and you can tell by the way he's walking, the way he's talking, the way he's breathing, blinking, sighing, and the way he keeps checking you're right behind him. Nobody else would be able to notice though.

You start to think of all the things that nobody, except Daryl, would notice about you.

Back at the quarry, your anxiety was really hard to deal with but no one ever noticed, you never brought it up or hinted at anything. Daryl had clicked onto your habits from the get go though, things you didn't even notice yourself. For example, he said he could tell when you were thinking too much because you'd clench your jaw repeatedly.

Daryl wasn't really familiar with the term "anxiety" even though you reckon he suffers from it more than most people, he would never complain or say anything but you knew.

The last time you had a panic attack was after the prison, when you and Daryl had gotten away. Everything that happened was "a lot", that's the only way you've ever been able to describe the feeling of your anxiety. Daryl tried his best to help but he's never been around someone having a panic attack before and he didn't want to make it worse, he just gently rubbed your back whilst you had to breathe through it.

But that was a few years ago now and you've had a few since then which has allowed Daryl to understand you even better, and he's gotten to read your body language down to a T. There's no hiding anything from him.

As you walk carefully behind Daryl, you feel your body waver for a split second... you convince yourself it's nothing and keep walking.

After a few seconds, a wave of heat comes over you, starting from your head and travelling to your feet. You exhale sharply and rub your palms on your thighs, one of your habits that you didn't notice until Daryl said something.

A third wave comes over you and you start to feel nauseous and the ground feels like it's moving beneath your feet, your tread slows and Daryl notices immediately.

He turns to face you, he looks you up and down and then he slowly walks toward you.

"You good?" His voice is low and gentle, the voice he only uses for you.

"Yeah M'fine" you reply, there's been plenty of times you've managed to pull yourself together and carry on so that's what you're gonna do.

Daryl knows how you are and pushing you for the truth would only annoy you, so he nods and starts to walk more, straining his ears to listen to your breathing instead of animal movement.

You start to realise it's not going away, you get dizzy and faint, you should sit down.

You stop walking and Daryl turns around again, not wasting a second to get to your side, almost pulling you to sit on the ground, he already knows.

You're sat now, staring into space, blinking slow, trying to control your breathing but the nausea stays.

By now, Daryl knows you're fighting a panic attack, all the signs are there, he just doesn't know what triggered it but he also knows that sometimes it could be nothing for you.

From his experience of you, he also knows that it's a hit or miss whether or not physical touch will help or hinder, so he does the same thing he always does, just to check.

He presses the tip of his index finger to yours and when you don't pull away he holds his palm to your palm, you still don't pull away so he takes your wrist and presses your hand to his chest so you can feel his heart beat and his breathing rhythm.

"Breathe like me, sweetheart... you're okay" he keeps his gentle voice as he searches for eye contact which you won't grant him so he doesn't pry.

"Would pressure help you this time, darlin'?" He's assuming you'll say yes, if you're allowing physical affection then that usually means that the pressure will help. The pressure refers to Daryl applying a small amount of pressure to your chest to help ground you.

You don't make eye contact yet but you give a subtle nod, so he knows what to do. He lets go of your wrist so he can move behind you.

He sits so you're between his legs with your back against his chest, he wraps his arms around your chest and holds you to him, his hands putting a small amount of pressure on you.

He kisses the back of your head while whispering to you.

"Yer doin' so good baby, jus' keep on breath in' fer me... that's it, good girl"

His love for you is so evident and you feel it, it helps and your breathing becomes more regular. You whimper very quietly since now the initial panic is over, you feel exhausted. It may not look like much, to anyone else, you just look like you're sat, with your boyfriend hugging you from behind, but inside it feels like so much and Daryl knows that.

"Ya alrigh', sweet girl? Ya feeling a lil better now?"

"Mhm" you reply weakly and your exhaustion is clear.

"We'll stay here for a bit, Mkay?" He lets go from holding around your chest and strokes along your hair line as you start to shift your body so you're facing him.

"Hey beautiful..." he smiles at you and strokes his thumb over your cheek, your eyes are a lil misty and sleepy.

He places his big hand on the back of your head and pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on your head.

You feel so grateful for your gentle man and the fact he knows you so well, you didn't have to say a single thing.

"I love you..." you mumble into his chest.

"I love you more, sweetheart... rest for a bit, I'll protect you" he reassures.

"Can keep going, I'm okay..." you don't want to be the reason you return empty handed.

"Ya ain't swayin' me darlin'... close yer eyes fer me, yeah?"

You groan but do as your told, you know he means it.

"That's it baby, it's all alright"

You feel him gently stroke your hair as you drift into relaxation.

#daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #norman reedus

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shadowbriar · 2 years

Text

Pretend Boyfriend - George Weasley

Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Reader Word Count : 3.2k Warning : None that I’m aware of. Notes : This story was posted first on my Ao3 account. “Well, since you don't have anyone you want to go with and that I need someone to shield me from these boys, would you please be my pretend boyfriend?” George deals with his feelings as he falls deeper for her in their fake relationship.

The sun was smiling above, giving enough heat and encouragement for the young gentlemen to gather their courage and shoot their shots to find a date. The Yule Ball is just around the corner and it seems to have taken over the main topic of the whole castle ever since it was announced. It was starting to look rather ridiculous to see someone popping the million galleons question every other corner of the hallways.

They were walking through the Main Courtyard, heading to her Transfiguration class after they had just finished Herbology. He has Astronomy after this, and though it would require him more effort to get to his next class, walking her to her classes has become a special habit he’s grown over the years. At first she was the one who insisted that they walk together so that he wouldn’t skip his classes and plant a prank on the hallways, yet even after they get to higher classes and more specialised schedules, the habit persists.

Perhaps that’s just what people do with their best friends. Walking them to each of their classes, everyday, no matter how far their classes actually are.

“That has got to be the fifth girl who bats their eye at you today.” she says as they walk past a group of Beauxbatons girls. She looks at her watch, making an impressed face “Not even half the day has passed. New record.”

“Well I'm a pretty good looking lad, wouldn’t you agree?”

She flashes a mocking smile, “Of course you are, George.”

“Thank you.” he playfully bows in gratitude “You’re one with quite a fanclub yourself. I heard Zabini asked you for the Ball last night. How did he deal with your rejection?”

“Not so pretty, really. I think I scratched a bit of his ego.”

“And he is, what, your sixth rejection?”

“Seventh, actually.” she corrected him, looking rather proud of herself “I rejected McLaggen on Monday. He said he’d tell his Father about it and that My Father would have to apologise to his Father then. Pretty wicked, to be honest.”

George smiles at her.

It is no secret that his best friend is a one fine lady. Ever since she stepped in the school, she has always had a long list of admirers trailing behind. Her clever jokes and warm personality compliments her beauty perfectly. George always wondered how he could be so lucky and befriend her because he knows a handful of boys who are certainly envious of him.

Hell, sometimes he is envious of himself whenever he thinks of her.

He wasn’t sure when it precisely started, she has always been on his side after all, but his feelings for her blossomed from just platonic love to a romantic one. Perhaps it was when they successfully pranked Filch in second year or when she gave him a hug after winning his first Quidditch match. He couldn’t tell when, but he’s certain that he won’t be coming out of these feelings anytime soon.

“Are you tired of girls hitting on you?”

“They’re not hitting on me.” George denies, trying to sound as coy as possible “But I do find the sudden attention to be ridiculous.”

She scrunch her nose, nodding, “For me, too. I’d rather people leave me alone and let me brood in the dark as I always have.”

George chuckles lightly. He knows how much of her words were complete bull. She has always been in the spotlight. Boys admire her, left and right. It’s just that now they have a real reason to approach her that it seems like she’s getting a sudden wave of attention.

“Why do you keep on rejecting them, anyway?” George asks, curious yet fearing of her answer for the possibility of a heartbreak “Surely there’s one bloke that isn’t as awful as the rest.”

She shrugs, “I don’t really find them interesting, is all.”

George nods. Wondering if he’s the one asking her for the Ball, would she have found him uninteresting too.

“Say, George.” she says, stopping her pace as her face lit from a sudden idea “Are you planning to ask someone to be your date?”

George shakes his head, slightly sweating at the sudden question, “Well, there’s someone but I’m not sure if I should ask her.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just- Nevermind, I don’t really have anyone in mind.” he lies, forcing a smile “Why, what are you thinking?”

“Well, since you don't have anyone you want to go with and that I need someone to shield me from these boys, would you please be my pretend boyfriend?”

George blinks, confused and surprised at the proposition, “Your what?”

“My fake boyfriend.” she says nonchalantly, not sensing the slight disappointment the boy radiates “I mean, it's a rather clever solution, don’t you think? I wouldn’t have to reject anymore boys and you wouldn’t need to deal with undesired attention anymore. Win-win for us all.”

George could swear the colour of his world turned dull. A pretend boyfriend? How worse can her offer be?

But in the rush of time, being her pretend boyfriend might be the closest thing he could ever be romantically with her. At least, until the Ball finishes, she is his girlfriend. Even when she doesn’t have any feelings for him.

“You know what, nevermind.” she says with a nervous chuckle “It sounds ridiculous now that I think about it.”

“Let’s do it.”

Now it’s her time to look flabbergasted. A growing grin appears on her face, squealing a little as she takes George’s hands in excitement, “Really?”

George nods, showing a half-hearted smile, “Why not, right?”

“Brilliant!” she exclaims cheerfully “It’s settled then. I better get going now. See you later, boyfriend!”

She skips her way down the hall, bidding one last wave of goodbye before disappearing in the ocean of students.

George was left stunned at his spot. What has he gotten himself into? Fake boyfriend? Really? Couldn’t they just go to the Ball as friends instead? Surely that would’ve been better than an artificial relationship.

But the happiness she paraded was something he couldn’t shake off. It makes him content to see her smiling and jumping in excitement. He’s always been there to make her smile, anyway. It’s like he has devoted his life for her happiness. Now he could only hope that however this fake relationship would end, he wouldn’t cave in too deep in the sea of sorrow.

____

“You must have been the daftest bloke of the century, mate.” Fred commented as he placed sausages in his mouth “A fake boyfriend? Really? Just how desperate can you be, Georgie.”

“I didn’t really think about it thoroughly, alright.” George defended, slightly moping at his twin’s negative feedback “Just pretend that you didn’t know about this, okay? I don’t even know if I should keep this a secret from you too. We haven’t actually established the rules and all.”

“It would be the death of you, you know.” Fred snorts, mocking him “Why couldn’t you just be honest with her? Ask her to be your real girlfriend, instead.”

“I wouldn’t want to be the eighth bloke she rejects this year. I’ll take whatever is served at the table.”

Fred was about to prolong the bickering yet closes his mouth as he spots the said girl approaching them.

“Hi, Fred.” she greets, taking a seat next to George “Hi, boyfriend.”

“Right,” Fred retches, picking up his plate to move to another seat “I’ll see you guys later.”

She frowns at Fred’s unpleasant reaction. The boy was just fine this morning when they had their breakfast. Why is he acting so strange all of a sudden?

“Don’t mind Fred. He’s just bitter we didn’t tell him about the whole relationship thing.” George lied, trying to ease her mind “He feels betrayed that we’re together and didn’t even tell him that something was going on between us.”

“Oh,” she nods, flashing an unsure smile “How much did you tell him?”

“Just that we’re together now.”

“Did you tell him that it’s fake?”

George flinches slightly at the word, “Would you like me to tell him?”

“No,” she says with a trailing tone “I guess it would be best to keep this between us. You know, to make it more convincing.”

He nods.

George wanted to ask why it is so important to make people believe that they’re really together, but he reckons there’s only so much heartbreak he could take in a day. Perhaps he could ask her some other time.

“So, what do you think we should do to make us seem like a real couple?”

George shrugs, “I don’t know. I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

“Maybe we could hold hands and you can walk me to my classes?”

“Don’t we already do that?” he says with a crisp chuckle “I mean we don’t really hold hands, but I’ve placed my arms around you.”

“True.” she nods, agreeing with his statement “Maybe we could.. Um, kiss?”

A slight crimson colour starts to tint his cheeks. He’s always imagined how pleasant it must be to kiss her, placing his hand on her cheeks as he caresses her skin while they share a chaste peck. If only she would kiss him the same way he would.

“I mean, if it’s too much for you we could always opt out.”

“No, it’s fine for me.” George says fast, not wanting to lose the chance “Are you fine with it?”

She nods with a smile.

“Should we uh- Should we try one now?” George asks unsurely, biting his lower lip in doubt “You know, to set the ground and all.”

She grins, “Please do.”

George lets out a nervous blow before leaning in with a smile.

It was a short tender kiss. Exactly how he imagined their first kiss would be. He traces her jawline with his thumb as his other hand entwines to hers. He could taste the light hint of strawberry from her lip gloss before finally pulling away, still locking their gazes as they smiled at each other.

The kiss might be uneventful but it was enough to make the eyes present at the Great Hall to stop and stare. At last, the good looking pair of best friends finally turn into a real couple.

If only they knew the truth.

“You have yet to ask me to be your date.” she whispers softly, still smiling from the kiss.

“I thought it’s already a one deal package with the relationship thing.”

“Still, it would be nice to hear you say it.”

George chuckles, taking both of her hands and holding them in his. He stares at her face, gathering all the nerves he has to finally ask her the question. If only he could ask her genuinely, “Would you be my date for the Yule Ball?”

She nods eagerly. She plants a small kiss on his cheek before pulling him for a hug. Squealing and giggling like a real person in love.

George rests his face on the crook of her neck, inhaling and embracing her presence. The butterflies in his stomach have long blown into the chaotic rain of fireworks. His heart was full, happy at the fact that she seems to be enjoying the artificial relationship as much as he does. A small voice in his head was telling him to be careful as it must have hurt later when reality hits and this fake relationship has to end. But for the time being, George could only enjoy and appreciate each passing moment.

He would certainly miss this once it’s done.

____

The dreadful night has finally come. As every other student welcomed the Ball with joy, George could only hope that his sheer act of indifference was enough to conceal his disappointment. Other than Fred, no one truly understands how he hates the night. There’s no telling of how their relationship would be after this. He’s not even sure if they could be as close of a friend as they were before. All these weeks of playing dating have been wrecking his emotions and boosting his hopes so high he would certainly succumb once it plummets.

He would certainly miss laying on her lap at the Common Room as she reads her book, or going to Hogsmeade and having glasses of butterbeers only for him to kiss the foam moustache off of her lips. He would miss holding hands in the hallways and spinning her around before pulling her for a kiss. He would miss being her boyfriend.

Though he’s fully aware that they were only doing a fake one, he couldn’t help but to feel that the feelings and moments they shared were authentic. There are times when he finds her blushing from his kisses. She has shown nothing but sincere happiness, one he has never seen before. It makes him hard to tell if she actually reciprocates his feelings or that she’s just a very good actress.

Now they’re dancing closely, her hands resting on his shoulders as he holds her gently by the waist. She looks dashing, certainly the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on. He studies her face, trying to map all of her facial features in his mind as it might be the last time they could ever be this close.

“You’re doing it again.” she says with a soft chuckle.

“What?”

“Staring as if I’m going to be blown away by the wind anytime soon.”

George smiles, not replying to her words and plants a kiss on her forehead instead.

“That’s sweet.” she comments, making a slight frown “But you haven’t properly kissed me tonight.”

She was inching into him, tip toeing so that she could level his height. But before their lips could touch, George lets go of her waist, slightly pushing her away. She blinks at the surprising gesture. Baffled.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.”

With that, George walks out of the floor. He loosened his tie, feeling suffocated from his thoughts. His head was all over the place. Agreeing to the fake relationship was a mistake. It made him realise the life he could never have, a life with her as his girlfriend. It hurts even more to know that he’s falling deeper in love with her.

He finally stops as he reaches the bridge. He rummages his hair harshly, desperate to get out of his own frenzied head. He feels like he’s going mad. He’s not ready for their relationship to end. Fake or not, he knows that his feelings were genuine and that’s all that matters, truly.

“George?” she calls with worry from the end of the bridge “Are you alright?”

“No, no I’m not.” he says desperately, still not looking at her “I feel like I’m going to burst. My head cannot keep quiet for one single second and my heart- My heart’s hurting.”

She was anxious, watching him lose the plot like this. She couldn’t tell what went wrong tonight. He has been quiet all night and has kept her at an arm’s length. She’d asked repeatedly if she could do anything to lift up his mood, but the boy was too deep in his brood and bottling his emotions. Now that it finally erupts, she’s unsure how to dampen it.

“Why did you have to ask me to be your stupid fake boyfriend?” George asks angrily, finally looking at her “How did you even come up with such a heartless idea, like that?”

She frowns, confused at his sudden outburst.

“You’re cruel, do you know that?”

“How am I cruel? You’re the one that willingly agrees to my plan, I never forced you to say yes.”

“Well, how would you expect me to say no when I am so deeply in love with you?!”

She blinks, caught off guard at his confession.

“Yeah, that’s right. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” he says again as if he could read her mind “But that doesn’t matter, does it? You don’t care about my feelings. It never matters for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

George groans in despair, “I am in love with you, alright? And it drives me nuts that this fake relationship is everything I’ve ever wanted but I know that you don’t feel the same way so I can only pretend that it’s working, but it’s not. It’s only making me more and more desperate for you.”

He couldn’t find the right words to convey his feelings. Everything was in turmoil. He was angry, disappointed, and desperate at the same time. Who would have known that being in love would push them to the pit of insanity?

“Then ask for it.”

George raises an eyebrow, still looking very much in vexation, “What?”

“Ask for it. Ask me to be your girlfriend.” she challenges, staring back at him with firmness “You never got the gut to ask me yet blame me entirely for not having the perfect fantasy of us together.”

He chuckles bitterly, “I’m here unhinged from my feelings for you and you still have the heart to joke about it,”

“I’m not joking. Why are you always belittling my feelings about you?” she asks, this time sounds like she’s nettled herself “I have literally given all the signs that I want you to ask me out. I want you to ask me to the Ball. And yet, you’re still so daft to pick them up that I have to ask you to be my fake boyfriend to finally have the chance to kiss you.”

George was at a loss of words. He stares at her with confused empty eyes.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why I wanted the relationship to be convincing? It’s because I want you to fall for me. I hoped that somehow, one of these days you’re going to see that I’m not so bad of a fake girlfriend and that you could finally ask me to be your real girlfriend instead.” she rants, chest heaving in anger “Blimey Georgie, you could be such an airhead at times.”

“You’re not- You’re not joking, are you?”

She stares at him with angry eyes, shaking her head.

In an instant, the loud voices in his eyes dissipated. George lets out a relieved sigh, chuckling lightly as he takes closer steps to her. He tries to pull the angry girl closer, placing his hands on her waist. He smiles wide, the silliest grin he has ever shown. His eyes were practically gone from all the cheeks folds.

“You really mean it, didn’t you?”

“George Fabian Weasley, if you ask me one more time, I will throw you off the bridge and make it seem like it’s a suicide.”

He grins, planting a kiss at the tip of her nose, “I love you.”

She rolls her eyes, “You have yet to ask me to be your girlfriend.”

“Do I have to, though? I mean you’ve basically confessed that you love me too.”

“Well I wasn’t the one throwing a fit for not having a girlfriend ten minutes ago, am I?”

George smiles, tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear, “Love, would you please be my girlfriend?”

She bites the growing grin and nods.

Sparing no other minute, George leans in and seals their new relationship with a kiss. This time he kisses her deeper, showing the desperation he held a few minutes ago that has now melted into tender delight. At last, he could finally kiss her passionately and know that she’s kissing him back genuinely. His doubts and second guesses are dispersing into thin air.

Perhaps tonight isn’t so bad after all.

#george weasley #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley x oc #george weasley imagine #george weasley scenario #george weasley oneshot #george weasley fluff

1K notes · View notes

shina913 · 2 years

Text

Stubble | KNJ

Stubble (one-shot)

Pairing: Namjoon x fem!reader

Genre: Established relationship; smut; PWP; fluff (if you squint)

Rating: M (NSFW); 🔞

Summary: So Namjoon forgot to shave...

Word count: 2.4K+

Warnings: facial hair kink; body worship; clit play; breast play; BDE!Namjoon; fingering; oral (F-receiving); dirty talk; unprotected sex in an established, monogamous relationship; rough(ish) sex; some manhandling; cussing

A/N: I have several WIPs but haven't been inspired to write or finish anything in the last month. Work has been exhausting and life is just...a little less than ideal right now. But...in an effort to jumpstart my writing brain, here's some horny word vomit--prompted by this photo that Namjoon posted on his insta stories today.

This is also un-beta'd, BTW. And of course, I realized I forgot to put that in after posting. 😖

You awaken, as soon as your body deems itself ready. You reach out to your nightstand, checking your phone for the time. You were pleased at how ‘late’ it was. It was nice to wake up voluntarily instead of begrudgingly, by the sound of your morning alarm.

It was a long weekend and you and Namjoon decided to take it easy instead of making any plans. After a hectic week at work, it was a welcome break for both of you.

You remained laid up on your side, unwilling to take on the day just yet. You feel him stirring behind you. When he nuzzles into your neck, you feel something prickly brush your skin.

“Ah!” You flinch a little.

“What? What did I do?”

You turn your head back to see him looking down at you, his long hair, framing his face that currently had a slightly panicked expression written all over it. He looked so adorable first thing in the morning. When he opens his eyes and stares at you with that heavy-lidded, glazed look–as if he was stepping out of a dream and into an even better reality.

You studied his face for a bit...until your eyes shifted downward. You hadn't noticed it last night...probably because you were too tired. But in the morning light, it was more evident. You couldn’t help but reach up to brush the stubble he had growing out of his chin and jawline.

He chuckles and leans into your touch. “I was in a rush yesterday morning and thought I’d just shave in the evening. But when I got home from work, I was just too exhausted to go through my whole routine. Sorry if it bothers you–”

“I never said that,” you say softly, still running your fingers on his chin.

He cocked an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Really?”

“I’ve seen you with stubble before but you usually take care of it by the end of the day so…I’ve never seen grown out like this.”

Namjoon was always very good about maintaining his facial hair. He preferred a close shave because his hair grew rapidly. This meant shaving nearly twice a day because by the time he got home, he’d be sporting a 5 o’clock shadow. Truth be told, it made him feel uneasy.

“Y-you like this?” He gestures at his face.

“I mean...it's...kind of...hot?” You admitted, sheepishly. He feels you shifting underneath him, already rubbing your thighs together.

He dipped his head to rub his chin against your jawline, trying to determine whether you were just fucking with him. His light strokes sent a shiver down your spine, you couldn’t help but let out a moan.

“What the f—“ He couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief. “You know, I always shaved because I thought you liked it when my face was all smooth.” You feel his hand settle on your thigh.

You rolled over flat on your back to get a better look at him, cupping his face. “Well, yeah...but it’s also because I love the aftershave you use. That’s why I always feel the need to kiss you and pinch your cheeks. But…I’m really digging this look.”

You didn’t think you had a stubble kink…until now.

You lift your neck to reach up and kiss his lips, then drag your teeth down his chin. At the same time, you use your free hand to guide his fingers between your thighs, to your center, slipping them past the gusset of your panties.

Feeling how wet you were for him, his brows lifted in surprise. “Seriously? Stubble?”

You bit at your lower lip then shrugged your shoulders. “You think my body would be making this up?” You grind against his fingers.

A low growl rumbled up from his chest. In an instant, he took your mouth in a rough, lust-fueled kiss. He pulled away, sinking his head to kiss your neck, his stubbled chin brushing against your skin.

Moving lower he lifts your top up trailing kisses down your chest. He squeezed your breast in his other hand while his lips surrounded a hardened nipple. His mouth was hot, his tongue felt like velvet lashes against your skin. When his teeth bit into the tip, you cried out, your body jerked, the shock going straight to your core.

You clutched at his hair strands. Your legs wrapped around him, tightening, making him feel how desperate you were for him.

“Joon,” you moaned.

“I’m here, baby,” he breathed, nibbling across your cleavage to your other breast. His fingers tugged at the wet nipple he’d left behind, pinching it gently until you pushed up and into his hand.

He reached between your legs once more, his fingers delving into your cleft. The pads stroked over your clit but purposely skirted the trembling opening. With your lips pressed to his, you moaned, your hips circling. He fingered you leisurely, building your need, his kisses slowed into a deep fucking of your mouth.

A moment later, your legs were in the air and his head was lowering to the hypersensitive flesh between your thighs.

You held your breath, waiting. The way your body was folded up, you couldn’t see him, until you felt his hot, velvet tongue sliding between your tender flesh.

“Oh, fuck!” Your back arched off the mattress.

You struggled, trying to lift your hips up to his mouth. Gripping your thighs, he held you in place, tasting you at the pace he wanted, licking over and around the slick opening, taunting you with your desire to feel his tongue inside you.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” Namjoon purred.

His lips circled your clit, his mouth suckling, the flat of his tongue rubbing across that sensitive pleasure point. The prickling sensation of his facial hair, heightening your need for him at the same time.

“Joon, I want you…please…” You didn’t care that he made you beg. The more you gave him, the more he gave back.

But he made you wait as he savored you, his hair caressing the tender skin at the backs of your thighs that you held up closer to your chest, his tongue massaging your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Your mouth fell open when he licked lower, dipping the merest fraction into the trembling clutch of your body. You gasped, dizzy with the onslaught of sensation.

Your fingers dug into your legs. “Oh my god…there, right there…”

He hums onto your clit, sending tremors through you. Your body jerked as he finally gave you what you wanted, his stiffened tongue pushing into your slick heat with a slow, delicious thrust.

“Feel good?”

“Yes, fuck, yes… just like that…” You gasped.

Pleased with himself, he continued to service you. His mouth was so good and filthy enough to your liking. His tongue wicked in its sensual assault, plunging between your clenching delicate muscles.

Namjoon ate you with such driven focus, so greedy that you writhed, electricity coursing through your body. Your core tensed. You hovered right on the precipice of orgasm.

Then, you screamed his name, your body felt as if it was on fire, your skin hot and damp. Your orgasm shatters you. But he wouldn’t relent, his tongue sliding up to lash your clit. One orgasm rolled into the next.

Sobbing, coming hard and long, you pressed your fists to your eyes. “Joon, I want you in me now.” You pleaded hoarsely, your limbs trembling hard as your core spasmed with yet another rush.

You felt the mattress dip as he moved, one hand holding your ankles. You heard the snap of his waistband as he shoved his joggers down. He always went commando when he got into bed with you.

“How do you want it?” he asked darkly. “Slow and sweet or fast and hard?”

Oh God…you were in big trouble.

You stared back at him, pupils blown out with lust, and forced an answer past dry lips. “Fast…and deep.”

He came over you, pushing your legs back against your chest until you were practically bent in half while he slid your panties to your knees. Those pilates classes sure were coming in handy now, you thought.

His cock surged into you, stroking over tissues already swollen and tender.

Folded as you were, your legs bound by your underwear around your knees, it was tighter than usual inside you and he filled you so well. Your sensitive flesh stinging from the stretch.

Groaning your name, Namjoon swiveled his hips, pulling out, pushing in, working his length deeper. “Is this good for you, baby?” he demanded, his voice husky with desire.

“Y-yes…fuck, yes,” You moaned, needing to move, to take more. But he kept you restrained like this–fucking you with devastating expertise…hard, relentless, leisurely thrusts.

Your fingers grasped at the sheets. Your walls rippled frantically around him, grasping at his cock with insatiable greed. Every pull left you empty, every thick, hot slide injected pleasure through your veins like a drug.

“Fuck, YN…feel so good…”

Namjoon loomed over you. His face was hard with lust as his hot gaze burned through you. His arms strained with need, his torso tensed.

“Can you cum for me one more time, hm? I know you’ve got one more in there for me,” he crooned.

You exhaled in a rush, willing your core to relax its eager tightening. He rolled his hips, stroking into you, his breath hissing as you took more of him.

Reaching for the headboard, Namjoon stretched over you, your legs trapped between you two. Fully exposed and tilted back for his pleasure, You were helpless to do more than watch as he straightened his hips and sank deeper into you.

The sound that left you was a harsh cry, the pleasure so intense it hurt. Your body shuddered at the sensation. Distantly, you heard Namjoon curse.

“You good, YN?” he bit out, his teeth grinding.

You tried to catch your breath, your lungs expanding as much as they were able.

“YN.” He growled your name. “Are you okay?” He slowed his thrusting, checking to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you or being too rough.

“Yes–don’t stop,” you bit out. Once he got the okay from you, his hips started circling into you again.

“Fuck,” Namjoon uttered, “So tight and wet? All because I forgot to shave?” He was egging you on and you loved every bit of it.

Then he started fucking you again, his hips driving into you in a relentless tempo, his cock plunging and withdrawing from root to tip in rapid-fire thrusts. He powered into you, nailing you straight into the mattress.

You came so hard your vision went dark, your body seized with pleasure so intense you were trapped in it. You were inundated by the surge of your climax. Your skin tingled from head to toe. Namjoon paused on a stroke, grinding into you, giving your body the hard length of his cock to grasp. Your walls spasmed around him in response, gripping him hungrily.

Your body tensed, fighting to breathe.

The moment you sagged into the mattress, completely spent, Namjoon pulled himself out.

You whimpered, suddenly feeling bereft.

“Hang on.” He shoved his joggers all the way off.

You turn your head slowly at him. He was still hard, his cock slick from your arousal—but you weren’t wet with his.

“W-wait…you didn’t…you didn’t finish yet,” you say in a daze. You were too listless to help when he stripped you of your underwear. Sliding a hand beneath your back, he lifted you and whipped your top over your head.

His lips brushed over your temple. “You wanted fast and hard. But I want to do slow and sweet.”

He hovered over you again, this time settling into your open arms and between your legs. The moment you felt his weight on you, you realized how much you loved slow and sweet, too.

Namjoon’s cock slowly parted your folds. With how wet you were, he was easily able to slide in. But he pushed in gently, taking his time to fill you again. His lips moved against yours, the stroke of his tongue in your mouth turned you on more than the slide of his cock.

He stopped halfway through and pulled back with the same patience, slowly stroking your walls with just the tip, edging you, back and forth with the feeling of emptiness and fullness. It was torturous.

“Deeper, please” you begged. He relented but it was unhurried, so you could savor every ridge of his length, stroke nerves you didn’t even realize you had.

“Faster,” you panted. Slow and sweet was good to an extent but not when he looked like this. You wanted him in his full glory.

“Baby…I said slow.” He whispered harshly in your ear.

You groaned from impatience and arousal it was unbearable. Taking matters into your own hands, you gripped his ass and pulled him in, bucking your hips hard against him.

He lifted his head at your audacity. “What are you doing?”

“I said I want you deeper,” you whined between clenched teeth.

Unable to take it anymore, he let out a low growl and quickened his pace. If he was going to be honest, he loved when you took control–it turned him on to the point of no return.

Consumed by desire, your mouths and bodies undulated in unison, moans and cries of pleasure echoing through your bedroom walls.

“Shit–you feel so good, baby…gonna cum so hard for you…you’d be leaking for days.” His thrusts became more urgent, more ragged as did your moans. Then you felt him jerk and the first wave of heat poured into you. He released a strangled groan the moment you clenched around him. He collapsed onto you as your vision went dark again for a moment.

You laid there for a bit, just the sound of your heavy breaths and heartbeats filling the silence.

“What the fuck,” Namjoon said, lifting his face to look into your gaze.

You smiled, staring back into those dark eyes gleaming with warm affection. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“I thought I was gonna die there for a moment,” he breathed out.

“Are you sure that I didn’t?” You quipped.

He laughed and plants a chaste kiss on the tip of your nose. “No, you’re still here. With me…” He stroked your cheekbone with his finger.

Your heart squeezes at the thought that the same man who just fucked your brains out could also disarm you at the drop of a hat. “How are you so sexy and adorable at the same time?”

His smile widened and he kissed you again. After a beat he wonders, “So, uh…what would happen if I grew a full beard?”

You twisted your lips playfully. “I’d say…we’d probably top that.”

His eyes widened and he laughed. “Oh shit, hide my razors then!”

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @deepseavibez @itdoesntmatterwhy

#bts fan fiction #namjoon #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #bangtanbathhouse #btswritingcafe #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #namjoon smut #bts smut #bts kim namjoon #bts namjoon #bts rm #knj smut #stubble x knj

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enchxanting · 1 year

Text

our love is god [ethan landry] pt. 2

read part 1 here || all parts

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: light angst, mention of drugs/alcohol

a/n: hey, thanks for all the love on the last part! i promise I'm not churning these out like crazy lol, i wrote the first chapter way before posting it here. not a lot of ethan in this one because we have to flesh out the lore, but i make up for it with some tara/sam angst! yippee!

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

“I can’t believe it. I actually can’t believe it.” Chad’s eyes are wide with amazement. “Y/N, at a loss for words? Because of a guy?”

“Dude, I’m telling you, it happened!” Tara said.

I was beginning to get tired of this back and forth.

Friday nights were usually fun, the whole gang gathered in Tara’s room, getting ready for the night’s festivities (in this case, a house party at the Woodsboro Community College), but today, my friends seemed more interested in rehashing today’s lunchtime events.

“Do you know what his name was?” Anika asks.

“Oh god, please don’t egg them on,” I groan. “No, I didn’t catch it.”

“Hey, he didn’t throw it, either,” Tara teases. “He was probably just as nervous. The dude could barely even make eye contact with her.”

Chad sits up on Tara’s bed. “What did you say he looked like?”

“Uh, tall, really tall. Curly brown hair? He was new, I’d never seen him before. And neither had Tara, so don’t chalk it up to my being a newcomer.”

“Wait. Oh my god.” Mindy suddenly chimes in. “I know who he is. His name is Ethan Landry, he’s in my American History.”

I can’t lie; I’m excited by this. “Really? Why haven’t we seen him before?”

“Because he just moved here.” She grins. “Hey, I thought you’d given up on high school boys, anyway.”

I tinge pink. “Never say never, I guess?”

Chad and Tara whoop. Anika rolls her eyes at them. “Do you think he’ll be there tonight?”

I scoff. “I doubt it. We already have to lie about being college students to get in, anyway.”

Tara’s eyes glimmer. “Hey, you never know. That means you have to get extra dressed up for tonight, just in case he’s there.”

I am not prepared for one of Tara’s evil-genius machinations, especially not a makeover. But I entertain the fantasy for a second too long, and she takes my silence as agreement.

That’s how I find myself in one of Tara’s old dresses, a strappy black thing that hangs too low on my chest for my liking. After fighting over it for a long while, she eventually agrees to add a long-sleeved top underneath, if only to stop my whining.

Yet even though my getting-ready process was the most involved, I’m still the first one downstairs, which is typical. I’m debating whether or not to run for the hills and go home when Sam comes through the front door.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. Is Tara upstairs?” She sets down a few bags of groceries and turns to lock the four deadbolts freshly nailed to the door.

“Hey, Sam. Yeah, she is. I think everyone will be down soon.”

There’s an uncomfortable energy between us. Sam has never liked me much. Not because of my character or anything, as Tara has reassured me, but she’s overly wary of outsiders ever since last year’s attack. I try not to blame her, but I can’t help but feel a little hurt when she keeps her distance, giving me a once-over instead of asking about my day.

The tension is broken when I hear the rest of the gang come down the stairs. Sam smiles when she sees Tara, but it fades when she notices that we’re all dressed up. “Hey, Tar, where are you guys going tonight?”

Tara shifts her weight from foot to foot. “My friend at Woodsboro Community College offered us an in, so… we’re taking advantage of our youth?”

Sam’s face darkens. “No. No way, Tar. You remember the last time someone had a party around here? We nearly died.”

“Jesus Christ, Sam,” Tara groans. “You were out of my life for five years now you can’t let me be alone for five minutes..”

I look at Chad, uncomfortable. He slightly shakes his head at me– better not to interfere.. Still, I feel like I have to say something. “Hey, Tara, maybe she’s right, we could just–”

Tara whips around to glare at me. “You’ve got to be kidding, Y/N. Butt the fuck out.” Her words sting, but I step back and sit on the couch.

“I’m not interested in living in the fucking past, Sam,” she continues. “I’m not gonna let what happened to me for three days define me for the rest of my life.”

Sam is quiet. I expect her to snap, to yell at all of us, but she just stares at Tara for a few seconds.

Finally, she picks up her bag again. “Alright. Fine. Go to the party, bring your taser, or not, I don’t care. I won’t be here when you get back.”

Tara’s eyes widen. “Wait, Sam. Wait. I’m sorry, I–”

“No, it’s really fine.” She glances around the room, where the rest of us are trying to blend into the shadows. “I hope you guys have fun. If some psycho killer tries to get you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With that, she marches upstairs, and I hear her bedroom door slam and lock.

No one knows what to say. Tara turns her back, and I see her wiping away angry tears. Without looking at us, she opens the front door. “Okay! Who’s ready?”

“Tara, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Anika says. “We can stay back if you want, I mean–”

“Nope! What I want is to get so shit-faced I don’t remember this conversation. Let’s go.”

My stomach still feels hollow, but I silently follow Tara out of the door. Anika and Mindy follow close behind.

Chad takes a second before making up his mind. He grabs his keys. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go, then.”

#ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #jack champion #scream 6 #scream 2023 #heathers au #heathers #high school au

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daddyy333 · 9 months

Text

Ari Levinson fluff

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 1.5k

warnings: talks about periods, period cramps, reader is embarrassed about her period, ?

summary: Y/n tries to hide her period for her boyfriend Ari, but he always finds out the truth, and he’s not happy about it.

“Babe! Come on, mama, we got a busy day, what are you doing still in bed gorgeous girl?” Your loving, adorable bear cub of a boyfriend said as he came in. You sighed and sat up, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry, I’m just…I’m a little tired today I couldn’t really sleep” you said and he sighed.

He sat down, kissing your head as he handed you a cold glass of water. You gulped the thing down and he asked “what’s going on? Are you sure you’re alright?” You nodded and smiled softly, patting his face.

He shook his head, a gorgeous grin peeking out of his full beard. He tapped your thigh and said “I want you out of this bed and ready to make beds for me in 15 minutes or you’re gonna be in trouble, baby” “ooh, really?” You challenged jokingly and he stood up, kissing your cheek.

“Yea, I’ll spank you” he threatened, a goofy grin telling you he wasn’t even slightly serious and threw a t-shirt at you, finding a pair of shorts and tossing those over too. You giggled and shook your head, watching him blow you a kiss.

You caught it, placing it right over your heart and he winked at you, running over to the kitchen to continue helping with breakfast. You sighed, falling back into bed.

You started your period last night and went to bed early so you could deal with the cramps and hopefully fall asleep before Ari came to bed but you had to fake sleep until you heard his gentle snores and spent majority of the night squirming around and trying to breathe through the pain. You had no way to relieve the pain out here, so all you could do was suffer and wait it out.

You didn’t want to bother Ari with these stupid girl problems, there are far more important things going on than your period cramps. You’re here to save lives, not whine about being in pain for just a few days.

You got up a few minutes later and got dressed, brushing your teeth and throwing your hair up in a messy bun. 20 minutes later you finally mustered up the strength to get up and start fixing up rooms.

You made beds, collected the laundry, cleaned up the bathroom, and even cleaned up the breakfast dishes and the mess in the kitchen for them. You were exhausted by the time you were done, and it took a lot longer than normal because the pain was unbearable.

You hadn’t seen Ari a whole lot and you were trying to avoid every one in general just because you didn’t want to have to talk about it. You honestly felt embarrassed, Rachel never seems to go through anything half as bad when she’s on her period.

“My love, those clothes you h- baby? Hey, hey y/n what’s wrong?” He said, you knew he was instantly worried because he said your name and his tone was enough to show how scared he was. Your face was scrunched up in pain and you were holding your stomach in some hope that maybe it’ll help the pain.

“I- I’m- ugh!” You groaned, tears filling your eyes. He bent down in front of you, cupping your cheeks and quickly trying to move your hand and see what was wrong. You whined, shaking his hand off.

“Please, y/n, you have to let me see. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” He asked frantically. He was worried someone would get to you and hurt you because of your relationship to him or your job or any number of reasons to be quite honest.

“No, n-no, I’m okay! I-It’s…It’s stupid, Ari” you said, taking a deep breath and slowly opening your eyes, wiping away the tears. His eyebrows furrowed and he said “y/n! Why are you hiding something from me? I can see something is wrong- baby, you’re scaring me!”

“It’s just my period, Ari! It’s nothing, I’ll go get the laundry” you said, voice shaky and hands also shaky as you stood up slowly and tried to walk away. He stopped you, one hand on your arm and the other resting on the small of your back as he said “sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me?”

“What?” You said quietly, you almost weren’t sure Ari knew what a period was, he didn’t seem like a guy who was very educated on women’s body’s, at least to you. “Why did you tell me you were having bad cramps? Is that why you stayed in bed late this morning? God, I knew something was off” he said and you cleared your throat.

“Ari, it’s stupid, and I’ve been going through this for years. I can still do my job, I’m fine” you said and he rolled his eyes. He scooped you up, making you jump a little as his strong arms plucked right off the ground in the blink of an eye.

He carried you to your room as he said “why would you say something like that, huh? I don’t care if you think this is something stupid, I think it’s serious. You’re in pain, my gorgeous girl, and just because a problem specific to girls doesn’t mean it’s not my problem at all. You're the love of my life, damn it, and I’m gonna take care of you cause it’s my job”

He laid you down in the bed, pulling your shorts off cause he knew you like to sleep without pants on, he swore it was just to tease him but you’d been sleeping that way since you were a teenager. “Next time, I want you to tell me when you’re in pain like this. God, I’m a terrible boyfriend. You shouldn’t be working, you need to rest. You want me to find you some snacks? We still have some strawberries from the shipment” he said and you smiled a little.

You shook your head and said “it’s- it’s fine, really” “babe, you’re killing me! Let me help you, darn it” he said and you both laughed. He leaned down and kissed you, caressing your stomach softly and you groaned into his mouth.

He pulled back and you tried to play it off but you couldn’t, a hiss escaping your pretty lips as you felt a few spasms in your back as if what was already happening wasn’t enough. “Awh, baby girl” he said and you shook your head, letting your head fall back onto the pillow.

He laid down next to you and you sighed, grabbing your back and trying to massage the pain away. He brushed your hair back and said “how can I help you?” “You don’t…think it’s gross? Or annoying?” You asked and Ari scoffed.

He sat up slightly, leaning against the wall as he said “y/n- what are you talking about? Why would I think it’s annoying? You can’t control it, and I’m an amazing boyfriend so obviously I’m gonna be here for you and take care of you. So, I ask again. How can I help?”

“I don’t know, Ari…I don’t think there’s anything to do but…suffer” you said and he smiled sadly. He cupped your cheeks and said “then suffer in my arms, yea?” You shook your head and nuzzled into his chest, placing a hand on his waist.

He kissed your head and said “how bad is it, huh?” “Well, I’m okay for now…but it’s pretty bad because it’s like the first day and stuff” you said and he nodded. You sighed and brushed his hair behind his hair, before Max ran in.

“What the hell are you doin, asshole? We got things to do, quit trying to risk a pregnancy in here” he said and you giggled, whilst Ari blushed in embarrassment. He chuckled and said “if you take care of my shit for me for the next few days I’ll do whatever you want for a week”

“Babe,” you said and he covered your mouth, making you squeal. Max rolled his eyes and said “whatever” before he left, closing the door for you. He moved his hand and you shook your head, smiling up at him. You could never actually be mad at him.

He caressed your cheek and your eyes squeezed shut, a pain sigh leaving your lips. “Sweetheart?” he said and you groaned, burying your face into his chest. He caressed your waist, letting you squeeze his arm.

“I’m sorry, babe” he whispered softly, running his hands through your hair. You whined and said “It’s…just- it’s so a-annoying” “I know, I know,” he said and kissed your head a few times.

You groaned, relaxing slightly as you took in a deep breath. “Just try to breathe through it, yea? I’m right here, my sweet girl” he said and you nodded, smiling a little. You cuddled closer to him and he held you tight, massaging your back just right, helping you fall asleep in his strong arms.

Taglist: @mrsevans90

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Ari Levinson

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

#the red sea diving resort #ari levinson #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson x y/n #ari levinson x reader

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

Text

Part 7 - Spirits, sorrow and surprise

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 6 -- Part 8

Summary: The boys celebrate the beginning of their Christmas break with a drink (or several) at their regular bar.

Warnings: (Vague) mention of blowjob, consumption of alcohol, fluff, some angst? Mentions of domestic violence. Tell me if I'm missing any.

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: This one was fun to write! Lots of interactions between the boys, intro of the next girlfriend, and for anyone who's been curious; by the end of this you'll know how Sy and Dani know each other.

Timeline-wise we're in the weekend after the first 6 chapters. I'd planned for ch7 to be a Charles-chapter, but I have 5 Christmas chapters and a NYE party to write and post (not including this one) meaning I'm hopelessly behind. Please forgive me.

@peaches1958 @keanureevesisbae Sorry if I'm keeping y'all busy ;)

“Fuck me, one more quiz from Laferrier and I’m switching majors,” Charles groaned as he and Walker left the lecture hall.

“Be glad you missed the last one, that was much worse,” August replied sourly.

“You aced the last one.” The surprise in Charles’ voice caused August to shoot a confused look at his friend.

“I fail to see how those things are mutually exclusive,” he shrugged, his voice thick with the kind of arrogance only types like Walker or Napoleon could get away with.

“Whatever, we’ve got two weeks of sweet freedom ahead of us,” Charles laughed. Walker happened to know Charles was hopelessly behind on nearly all assignments for all of his classes, but he couldn’t feel bad. The man couldn’t balance business and pleasure for shit, and all of this was his own fault. It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart - he always passed, and with minimal effort - he was just distracted a little too easily. And he was nothing like Mike, either, who was an idiot when it came to most things, but a borderline genius when you put him behind a computer.

“Sounds like a cause for a celebration,” Marshall turned up next to Charles, somewhat out of the blue, followed by Sherlock, who looked far more awake and confident than his friend.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Charles laughed, slapping Marshall on the back. He did look tired - not that that was unusual, but today it was striking.

“Just handed in a ten page psych-paper.” Marshall yawned. From the looks of it, he’d been up for the bigger part of the night, if not all of it.

“Keppler?” Walker asked - he was careful, not sure if Marshall had forgiven him for last weekend’s little episode yet. “Liebermann,” Sherlock said. The reply was accompanied by a groan from both Marshall and Walker. The fact that she was insanely hot didn’t make up for the fact that that woman was a fucking harpy. As the four of them walked home, Walker and Marshall talked about the paper some more - Walker had taken the course as an elective the year before. Sherlock gave up on trying to convince Marshall that his assignment was absolutely fine after about six tries.

“What’s up with you and the orchestra-girl,” Charles grinned. Making Sherlock feel awkward wasn’t the sole purpose of his question, but it was a nice bonus - and easily achieved.

For once, Sherlock decided to forego his regular answer (‘nothing’) and tell the truth: “Her name is Elena, and we… kissed.”

“And last week’s rehearsal went so poorly because you were imagining what her boobs look like?” Charles rolled his eyes. It’s not that he was trying to be a nosy, gossiping git, he was just curious. Inappropriately so, according to some - alright, according to most.

“I don’t have to imagine, I know what they look like.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he’d even opened it. Walker and Marshall each raised an eyebrow and half-listened to the conversation between Sherlock and Charles while continuing their own.

“I’m impressed, Holmes. Mildly, but still. I was beginning to think I’d have to take her off your hands,” Charles laughed. The laughter was replaced by a sharp gasp when five fingers suddenly dug painfully into his shoulder and Sherlock appeared in front of him. Walter and August paused their conversation when they noticed what was going on.

“You so much as look at her wrong and I swear to you, Brandon, you will not walk away in one piece, do you hear me?” Three pairs of eyebrows were raised at this outburst: It very decidedly wasn’t like Sherlock at all to react like this - emotional and rash. He had a far better handle on his temper than August or even Geralt - in fact, none of the guys had been aware that Sherlock Holmes had a temper. Turns out he did, and it was quite intimidating.

“Sherlock,” Marshall said carefully, “I’m sure Charles was just joking.”

“I’m quite sure he wasn’t.”

Charles looked at him in disbelief. “You seriously think I’m that bad a friend?”

“I don’t think you are, but I can’t trust you aren’t.” Quite frankly, nobody could disagree with that statement.

“Solo, you have five minutes to finish up with whoever is underneath your desk right now, we’re going out for a drink.” Leon made a face at Walker’s remark - either he was too predictable, or August knew him a little too well.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t know how to knock,” Leon growled through gritted teeth. Walker barging in unannounced was unwelcome at the best of times, least of all when you were halfway through getting your dick sucked. When August disappeared and slammed the door shut, Leon looked down at the pretty blonde between his knees.

“Baby, I don’t need five minutes,” she purred, and with a devilish look in her eyes, she returned her attention to what she’d been doing. It wasn’t a lie; barely ten minutes later, Napoleon pulled the door of his room shut behind him.

“Sorry I’m late!” Mike threw his jacket over the back of the last available chair.

“No need, we’re grateful,” Sherlock said dryly, “had you been on time, all of us would’ve died of shock.” Everyone laughed at the joke. Nobody seemed to mind that he was the last to get there, but Mike couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about it.

“Ask Elena what she thinks of guys who come last.” That one earned him a smack in the head from Marshall as soon as he sat down.

“Don’t get comfortable, you’re getting the next round,” Marshall told him. A round of drinks for the lot of them was usually an odd combination. The beers were the easy part, but the sometimes unusual whims of the guys who preferred something more decadent - usually August, Napoleon, Charles, Sherlock or, God save the poor bartender, all of the above - had on multiple occasions gotten you desperate looks from personnel. Occasionally, some of the more attractive female bartenders had even refused to sleep with Charles because of the tables consistently time consuming orders - and Charles rarely struck out.

“I’ll bring ‘em over, Mike, shift’s almost up, anyway!” Anjelica shouted from behind the bar, signaling you to sit back down. She’d been around long enough to know that waiting around by a bar could make Mikey annoying very quickly. He raised a hand by means of a ‘thank you’ and turned back.

“... as terrible as last week, practice somewhere else.” The group laughed at Leon’s remark, and even though Mike hadn’t heard the beginning of that sentence, he could guess that it was about Sherlock’s unusually bad rehearsal from last Saturday.

“Yeah, what was that all about?” Sy asked. His voice sounded genuine enough, but his face told a different story.

“Elena, of course,” Mike said - suggestive eyebrow-wiggle included - as he sat back down. Geralt scowled at both of them, annoyed at how immature they were being. Sherlock looked slightly uneasy, which wasn’t helped by the fact that Leon doubled down on the teasing by bringing up the bets that had been made about the situation between Sherlock and Elena. Right at that moment, Anjelica walked over to the table with the drinks and set them down.

“Can I sit?” She asked. Without waiting for an answer, she sat down in August’s lap and leaned her elbows on the table, dropping her face in her hands.

“Soooo?”

“Anjelica, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Sherlock, my friend Isabelle is on the volleyball team with Elena’s best friend Lahela’s roommate Susanna’s boyfriend’s sister Joanne,” Anjelica said with a sickly sweet smile on her face. Reactions to that sentence were divided between the Got Its and Got It Nots - as was proved by Sy’s eloquent response: “Huh?”

Leon was the one to answer, because he saw Anjelica open her mouth and she would no doubt try to explain the whole thing: “If she wants to know, she’ll find out.” Anjelica approved the summary with a meaningful shrug and another smile.

“Angie…” Sherlock rarely used Anjelica’s nickname.

“For God’s sake, man, you snogged her, you didn’t murder her mother,” Charles chuckled. He often shared the more intimate details of his life a little too freely, so this was getting on his nerves.

“Charles, when were you planning on leaving for Christmas?” Geralt interjected - he was thoroughly fed up with the entire conversation. His one-on-one with Sherlock on Friday had been awkward enough - and neither had had to worry about a whole table (and the rest of a room) full of people then. Anjelica was about to protest, but August wasn’t having that.

“Ange,” he said softly. When she turned to look at him, he just shook his head. The look in his eyes said it all. Charles also finally took the hint.

“I’m leaving tonight, Henry’s driving me and his sister Mary back. I’ll be back on the twenty-eighth, though. Can’t miss New Year’s Eve here,” he shared a meaningful look with Leon as he said that last bit. The conversation quickly turned to sharing holiday plans with each other. Leon was leaving the next morning, and returning on the 27th, just like Marshall.

“August?”

“He’s coming with me,” Anjelica answered before he could say anything. August didn’t look particularly happy about the whole situation - no one dared to suggest he was terrified to meet Anjelica’s family, though they did all consider that a very valid reason to be afraid.

“That whipped, huh?” Mike said jokingly, already preparing to duck in the event of flying glassware. It was probably a good thing that the man was on his third scotch and he was generally a pretty laid back drunk.

“What about you, Mikey?” Anjelica asked. Mike just shrugged and told her he wasn’t going home, indicating he didn’t want to talk about it any further, and despite being incredibly curious by nature, Anjelica felt it best not to press the matter. She moved her eyes to Sherlock and nodded at him to ask the same question.

“Staying to practice for the concert,” he said simply. Under his breath, but poorly disguised, Charles muttered some remark containing the words ‘snog’ and ‘Elena’, which earned him a swift kick in the shins from August - which in turn earned August an approving nod from Geralt.

“Sy?” Anjelica was now genuinely curious about the last few people at the table.

“Long as I ain’t plannin’ on apologizin’ to ma’s son of a bitch boyfriend, I ain’t welcome,” he growled. From the look on his face, everyone could tell he had no intention of apologizing.

“Apologize for what?” Anjelica whispered to August, knowing she probably wouldn’t get much of an answer out of him. She was right: he just made a gesture that meant something along the lines of ‘ask him yourself’, so she repeated the question out loud, to Sy.

“You ever wonder why I don’t use my first name?” He asked in return. She shook her head.

“I don’t even think I know your first name.”

“Nathaniel Evan Syverson,” Sy said, “Evan’s the name of my uncle, ma’s brother. He’s alright. Nathan’s ma’s boyfriend. He takes a li’l too kindly to beatin’ the shit out of her for my taste, so forgive me if I don’t exactly like the guy. She defends the piece of shit tooth ‘n nail, though. You can take that literally.”

“Shit, Sy,” Anjelica put a hand in front of her mouth. He said it so casually, as if it was the most normal thing. “What about you?” She couldn’t quite find the words to ask what she wanted to, but he understood perfectly.

“Oh he beat on me, too. Think I ain’t got a single rib that he ain’t broken at some point.” “No one ever suspected?”

“Oh, school knew. Never did nothin’, though.” Sy chuckled grimly. “Kept beatin’ on me ‘til I grew too big for him to take. Tried to hit ‘m back once…”

“What…” She couldn’t say anything else.

“Ma protected him. Ended up catchin’ my fist herself. That’s when she told me I wasn’t welcome no more ‘til I said I was sorry for tryna hit Nate.” Sy had been staring at the bottle in his hands for the entire duration of his story, which meant he was surprised and a bit startled by the arms that wrapped around his shoulders all of a sudden. He patted her arm softly.

“‘S alright, Ange, but thanks.” He was even more surprised when Anjelica pulled in a chair and sat next to him.

“Is that why you and August…” She had no idea how to finish the sentence she started, and she didn’t have to. Sy knew exactly what she was asking about. Everyone at that table did.

“Anjelica, what’s that?” Sy carefully grabbed her hand to get a better look at her wrist, where bluish-purple peaked from under her sleeves. She shook her hair back and smiled at him.

“It’s nothing, Sy,” she said sweetly, “nothing to worry about.” Everything could have been alright, if Mike hadn’t come into the kitchen at that moment, which made Anjelica turn her head. Sy’s eyes went wide when he saw the four spots on the side of her neck, and he grabbed her chin to search the other side for a matching one. When he found it, he stared at her for a while, connecting the dots as he gently raised his hand to her throat and hovered his fingers over the marks.

“Where is he?”

“Sy…”

“Where. Is. He?”

“Where is who?” Unfortunately for August, it was August who asked.

“You…” What came out of Sy’s throat was more vibration than sound; a low growl, dripping with pure, unadulterated rage. “I’m gonna kill you.” And without further warning, he lunged forward - practically through Mike - toward August, grabbing him by the shoulders and pinning him against the wall.

“Fuck!” Mike yelled as he jumped out of the way to avoid being tackled.

“Sy!” Anjelica was on the verge of tears, looking helplessly at Mike as she reached for Sy’s arms and tried to pull him away from August, “Sy, it’s not what you think!”

“Sy, let him go, man,” Mike tried. From the look on his face, Anjelica could tell he was shocked. August, on the other hand, looked completely calm.

“Please let go of me, Syverson, so I can explain.” He said it so matter-of-factly it was almost comical in this situation.

“If you think I’m gon’ let you justify beatin’ the fuck outta ya girl, you’re fuckin’ insane!”

“Sy,” Anjelica tried again, “that’s not…” He ignored her pleading again. When Sy pulled his arm back to punch Walker, Mike grabbed his arm. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the muscle to deal with a guy of Sy’s size, especially not when he was angry like this. Fortunately, they’d been making enough noise for the whole house to check out the situation, which quickly escalated to a full-blown fight between the two.

It had taken four guys - Geralt, Marshall, Charles and Mike - to pull the two apart, and they hadn’t managed before Sy got a couple of good blows in. Leon had taken care of Anjelica, who had curled up in a corner, scared that Sy would make good on his word to kill her boyfriend - friend, date, hookup… whatever they’d been back then. What had followed the fight was a lengthy and awkward conversation between the guys about the nature of Angie and August’s relationship, which ended with Sy stating very clearly that he neither understood nor supported the dynamic, but that he’d accept that it was their choice and none of his business. He’d never explained, though, why he’d had such a strong reaction to begin with.

“Yeah,” Sy finally answered Anjelica’s half-asked question. She gave him another hug - letting him know that she understood now - before walking back to August, who pulled her back into his lap.

“You knew.” It wasn’t a question: The look in his eyes was more than enough for Anjelica to figure it out.

“I did.”

“Why did you never tell me?”

“Wasn’t my story to tell, Angie.” Anjelica replied to that by rolling her eyes and then turned back around.

“Alright, where were we?” She asked cheerfully with a hint of that thing women did when they told you ‘it’s fine, do whatever you want’ when in reality, it wasn’t fine and you definitely shouldn’t do whatever you want. August knew he hadn’t heard the last of this yet, but for now, they were going to let it rest. “Geralt, your plans?”

“One moment,” he replied while holding up his phone. He answered it at the table, which Anjelica had found rude when she’d first met Geralt, but now she knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Sol? I’m at the bar with the guys, can I call you back?” He barely waited for an answer before he hung up.

“Sorry about that,” he said, “to answer your question: Me and my brothers don’t celebrate Christmas, so there’s no real reason for me to leave here.”

“You have brothers?” Anjelica asked, surprised that this had never come up before. According to Geralt, it was rather a long story, but she wanted to hear it nonetheless.

The other side of the table had moved on to a different subject altogether. Over the past hour, Sy and Marshall had been looking at Mike, who checked his phone nervously every five minutes. He seemed kind of sad.

“What’s up with you?” Marshall asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Dani,” Mike sighed, “we’ve barely talked since last weekend, and I have no idea what could’ve happened or if I did something wrong or something…” If there was anything he wanted to add, it was put on hold by Charles asking about the next round of drinks.

“Sucks,” Sy said dryly - a little too much, even for his doing.

“Can’t think of anything?” Marshall half-joked. He raised his hands apologetically when Mike shot him a dirty look.

“Alright, assuming it’s not you - ow! - I noticed she freaked out when she saw you,” he nodded in Sy’s direction, “what was that about?”

“I thought I saw something! Wasn’t sure though…” Mike said almost triumphantly. Sy looked at the beer in his hands, nervously tearing at the label. The atmosphere turned more awkward with every passing second.

“Look, Mikey…” That didn’t sound good. In fact, it sounded so bad that Marshall’s mouth fell open when he realized what Sy was trying to tell Mike.

“You fucked her,” Mike groaned in disbelief. Then, he fell silent for an uncharacteristically long moment before he started laughing and wondered out loud why he and Sy always went for the same girls.

“Dunno,” Sy laughed in reply, “good taste?”

“The most we can say is that you have similar taste,” Sherlock interjected, “that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s good.”

“At least now we know that Dani has terrible taste in men,” Marshall noted, “sleeping with just one of them could have been a lapse of judgment, but both of these jerks?”

“We can’t rule out charity,” Sherlock chuckled.

“Watch it, Holmes,” Mike said, obviously faking the threatening edge to his voice.

“So, we alright, Mikey?” Sy asked with an apologetic smile on his face.

“As long as it wasn’t somewhere in the past month,” Mike laughed - he clearly wasn’t mad, which made Sy sigh with relief.

“Orientation party,” he said, “we’re good, then?”

“Yeah, no big deal!” And he meant it - Mike was easy going even on his worst days.

The boys got louder with every new round of drinks. August, at some point, even abandoned his extreme aversion to PDA, which the others found quite amusing.

“God, Walker, keep your hands to yourself,” Geralt sneered. It surprised the others; he was usually the last person to care about others’ inappropriate behavior - and certainly the last to ever comment on it. Anjelica, Sherlock and Marshall were the only ones to pick up on the hint of jealousy in his voice. A gust of icy wind rolled into the bar when the door opened, but other than some shivers, no one took too much notice of it. Charles, Leon and Sy, who were sitting on the side of the table that faced the door, saw and recognized the tall blonde woman who entered the room. She was quick to raise a finger to her lips to signal that they should remain quiet, and then made her way over to their table, until she was standing right behind Geralt.

“You miss her.” Sherlock said when he heard the tinge of jealousy in the dark voice of his friend. Geralt just scoffed and nodded by means of a reply, not looking up from the glass in his hand.

“You don’t have to,” the blonde behind him said. Geralt jerked his head around so fast that any normal human would have pulled a muscle - or broken their neck. Part of it came from the sheer surprise of being snuck up on - that was a very hard thing to do to Geralt, even when he was a few drinks in - and partly because he recognized that voice immediately. He’d been dreaming of hearing that voice this close to him for weeks. Another fraction of a second later, he stood up - without much subtlety; she had to step aside to avoid taking a chair to the knee.

“Sol?” He stared at her in disbelief. Was it really her? Was she really here? He reached one hand to the side of her face, slowly and hesitantly. Whoever looked closely enough could see that he almost trembled. It was as if he didn’t trust his own eyes. Until his fingers touched her skin. In a split second, he pulled her against his body and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was far too passionate - and involved entirely too much tongue - to be appropriate in public, but the boys let it slide. Even Walker, who clearly fought with the desire to throw Geralt’s comment from earlier back into his face. These two hadn’t seen each other in months - they deserved this.

“Solveig,” Sherlock answered the unasked question on Anjelica’s face, “Geralt’s girlfriend of… at least two years, they were together when I moved in.”

“We’re indulging them because they’re long distance and he hasn’t seen her in four months,” August added. Anjelica chuckled and seemed to decide that that little fact made the entire situation endearing rather than gross.

“Five months and two weeks.” Geralt and Solveig had finally managed to tear themselves away from the other and sat down. Unlike Anjelica, Solveig grabbed a chair and sat between Geralt and Sherlock. “And we’ve been together for three years.”

“Three years, today,” Solveig added, “December twenty-second. Midwinter.”

“A long night, indeed,” Charles joked.

“Hm.” It was Geralt’s favorite multi-purpose remark. This time, it was mostly a chuckle, while the expression on his face suggested there was at least some truth to the statement. After congratulations from everyone, and a quickly squeezed in introduction of Solveig to Anjelica and vice versa, Geralt got up to get his girl a drink.

“Are you staying with us, Sol,” Sherlock asked.

“For the holidays, if that’s alright,” she looked around the table; nobody seemed to have any problems with it.

“I’d have loved to see them do anything about it,” Geralt laughed. Everyone shuddered at the thought of having to deal with an angry Geralt. “You’re staying two weeks, then?”

“I’m staying until I graduate,” she answered shyly - it was clear that this hadn’t been brought up between them before, “I was offered a place to finish my master’s here.”

“You never…”

“I didn’t want you to think I did it for you,” she whispered apologetically, “I didn’t want me to think I did it for you.”

“Did you find a place here?” Geralt asked it carefully, but everyone knew he was praying to any god who would listen that she wouldn’t ask to move in with him. Not that Walker or Sherlock wouldn’t be quick to point out that the lease didn’t allow that, but still.

“I did, I will get the keys on the second of January,” she smiled. Solveig knew exactly what the intentions behind that question had been. Talk at the table shifted to dinner - Mike and Sy were getting hungry, which meant one of them got jittery and the other cranky. Luckily, the bar served good burgers.

“Geralt, why don’t you take Solveig home to get settled in,” Marshall said casually, “she looks beat from the flight.” Mike opened his mouth to say something but was shut up by a kick in the shins from Sherlock.

“Don’t you need to eat,” Anjelica asked Solveig with a hint of concern in her voice. Both Napoleon and August answered, suggesting takeout and leftover pasta from the day before, respectively.

Solveig and Geralt didn’t linger - as per everyone’s expectations. Anjelica wondered out loud whether the guys had a problem with Solveig, which resulted in laughter from her audience.

“They haven’t seen each other for nearly six months,” Sy chuckled and, after he finished his beer, started taking orders for the next round.

“We owe it to them to give them the house for a few hours,” Napoleon added with a grin on his face.

“We owe it to ourselves to stay away for a few hours,” Mike snickered. Everyone cracked up at that; truer words had never been spoken.

-> Part 8

#henry cavill #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #august walker #geralt of rivia #napoleon solo #charles brandon #sherlock holmes #henry cavill sherlock holmes #mike hellraiser #captain syverson #walter marshall #geralt of rivia x OFC #mike hellraiser x ofc #august walker x ofc

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unculturedmamoswine · 1 year

Text

Forduary Week 3: Insomnia

Post-series Fiddauthor fluff! Sometimes sleeping is hard. (CW for mention of serious bodily injury, and also for a lil bit of Ford’s ptsd)

There’s nothing like falling asleep on a boat, Ford thinks longingly. He never once had trouble sleeping on the Stan o’ War, unless it was because of some temporary problem, like Stan stomping around their room or pain from a cracked rib.

Now that he and Stanley have returned to Gravity Falls for the summer, Ford seems only to be able to sleep in fitful catnaps throughout the day, sometimes waking by jolting himself upright, filled with the urge to either punch something or run until he realizes where he is. At night, after trying and often failing to fall asleep, he paces around the Hootenanny Hut like a none-too-stealthy ghost, exploring the cavernous, tacky rooms and their contents.

Ford stands at the end of a spacious hallway. In the darkness, it seems painted in grays and blacks. The window at the end of the hall is so ostentatiously large and multi-paned that he wonders if it was placed there by accident. It was probably intended to be the central feature of a house that cost a mere six figures. The window overlooks a healthy portion of deep, black woods, bathed at the moment in bright moonlight that spills into the hallway and pools on Ford’s bare feet. He winces, suddenly realizing how cold his toes are. He curls them into the thick, artfully patterned carpet. He should have worn socks.

Ford’s eyes are gritty and sore. His head aches. His jaw, too. He’s been clenching it without noticing, an old habit of his that’s resurfaced. His tension ratchets up when he hears footsteps behind him. He whirls around quickly, despite the fact that he knows perfectly well who it will be.

Fiddleford is dressed for sleep in sweats and a t-shirt. He moseys down the hallway, smiling when he catches Ford’s eye, in spite of Ford’s overreaction to his presence. Ford smiles, slightly embarrassed to be caught panicking at nothing.

“Good evening,” he says, feeling immediately re-embarrassed. A lot of formality for a man wearing plaid jammies, he thinks in an annoyingly Stan-like voice. Fiddleford only smiles and steps nearer.

“Evenin’. Come here often?” They both look out Fiddleford’s window, shoulder to shoulder.

After a comfortable pause, Ford answers, “It’s my first time at this particular window.”

Fidds snorts. “Can’t sleep or don’t want to?” he asks.

Ford glances at him, smiling slightly. “I’d love to if I could. I think I’m just having trouble adjusting to sleeping on dry land.”

Fiddleford nods. “Did all you could to avoid it when we were young and now you can’t sleep when you want to. That’s irony for ya.”

Ford nearly jumps out of his skin when Fiddleford brushes his hand against Ford’s. Before Fiddleford can do more than twitch in surprise and open his mouth to apologize, Ford slips his hand quickly into Fiddleford’s.

“Sorry,” he says before Fiddleford can. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine, honey.” Fiddleford’s frowning up at him, worried. His eyes are full of concern. Ford likes Fiddleford’s eyes. Although Ford can’t see their color in the darkness he imagines he can, his brain filling in the details it knows to be there. He can see/not see the dark blue of Fiddleford’s eyes and the way they scan Ford’s face. Surely, in the poor lighting, Fiddleford must also be relying on memory to fill in Ford’s finer details. He wonders if the Ford Fidds is imagining has rid himself of facial hair in the last day. Or if he lacks the tired circles under his eyes that the real Ford has. Then again, Fidds was with him today– he knows Stanford isn’t looking his best.

It occurs to Ford that he should perhaps say something. He can’t remember what the last thing said was. Is it his turn to talk? He doesn’t know. Could his tiredness be catching up with him? Shameful. He used to be able to go for three to six days without sleeping.

“I’m getting old,” he tells Fiddleford, who laughs.

“Sure are, sugar, but least you ain’t the only one. You plan on looming here at my window for much longer?”

“I can probably loom anywhere,” Ford jokes. Fiddleford squeezes his hand.

“Come on, then. If you can’t sleep, you can’t sleep, and I wanted to show you my stories. Now’s as good a time as any.” He pulls Ford gently back down the hall.

Ford winces. Soos’s Japanese cartoons have cast some kind of spell over Fiddleford, who can’t get enough of them. He can’t say he has any particular interest in them, but Ford has to keep an open mind. Soos is a man of surprisingly good taste; he introduced Ford to FCLORP, a delightful hobby that Ford wishes existed when he and Fiddleford were young. It’s possible that anime has hidden depths.

Anyway, as crappy as he feels, he has a ready-made excuse if he fails to pay adequate attention.

They settle in the TV room, which is not to be confused with the theater. The theater seats sixteen and is lined in red velvet curtains. The day after he and Stan arrived back in town, they watched an old movie in there with an assortment of Fiddleford’s friends from town. The TV room is next to Fiddleford’s bedroom. It was once an identical bedroom, but now boasts a TV at the foot of the bed. Ford has never seen anyone in the TV room outside of himself and Fiddleford.

The bed is one that came with the house, formerly belonging to the Northwests– big and soft, all dark wood and fabrics in shades of blue. Ford flops onto it and crawls to the left side, wishing there was a couch in the room. Being in bed and unable to sleep feels like a slap in the face. Ford feels that the bed is mocking him, like the beds all do in the No Sleep Dimension.

“Alrighty, you all comfy?” Fiddleford asks cheerily.

“Let’s go for it, Fidds.” Ford tries to inject some energy into his voice, but it’s been over a week since he got any more than two unbroken hours of sleep a night. His ability to be energetic is severely reduced.

The opening sequence of Fiddleford’s show is action-filled and blindingly bright. Ford, watching carefully, gathers that it’s about a group of teenagers who possess the power to transform into large, conveniently color-coded robotic bears. Once the show proper begins, Ford quickly loses the thread.

“So he can’t become a bear yet,” Ford confirms with Fiddleford.

“Naw, just watch! This is only the first episode.” Fidds shifts closer and takes Ford’s hand again. “He ain’t found the razor yet that’ll change him into an Ursa Fighter.”

“Oh.”

Ford watches, stupefied, as the teenaged boy, sans colorful friends, discovers a large claw which he confusingly calls a razor and allows him to change his shape, mass, and chemical makeup. (But only specifically into the aforementioned robot bear shape.) He engages in combat with laser-toting androids and ultimately swears to protect the city from the sinister WitchCorp. When the closing credits begin, Ford wonders what he was supposed to have gleaned from this experience.

The next ten episodes clue Ford in slightly to the fact that context and meaning are somewhat nebulous in this fictional world. Occasionally he asks a clarifying question.

“Is he still inside the bear suit?”

“Nope, it’s converted his body into a bear.”

“Don’t his parents notice that he’s gone for hours at a time?” “It’ll come up later, just wait.” “These girls are happy to become child soldiers on the advice of a complete stranger?” “Well, they were destined to be Ursa Fighters just like Daisuke was, y’see.”

By the time the sun lances its horrible rays into the room, signaling another failed night for Stanford, he is now, if not proficient in the ways of the Ursa Fighter, at least an initiate. Ford’s no less exhausted after half a night spent watching cartoons, but is at least content. Sometime after Towa joined Daisuke in his quest (adding the White Bear to the team), he ended up pressed against Fiddleford’s side, head lolling on Fidds’s shoulder.

Fiddleford stops the stream. He wraps his arms around Ford, squeezing, and presses his face into Ford’s hair.

“Didn’t expect you to watch all that with me, if I’m telling the truth,” he says, voice muffled. “I was hopin’ it’d put you to sleep.”

Ford smiles, unsurprised. “But if I did stay awake, I might be inspired to help you try to work out the finer details of human-to-robot transformation by means of an enchanted claw?”

“That’s what we call a win-win!” Fiddleford laughs. “Though as far as transformin’ folks into robots goes, I reckon I don’t need any help– don’t forget you’re the looks and I’m the brains, peach pie.” They snicker together as Fiddleford squirms down to Ford’s level until they’re face to face.

Ford looks at him. He can see Fiddleford perfectly now, so the daylight is good for something, at least. He can see each wrinkle on Fiddleford’s face, the permanent tan that’s the legacy of decades spent homeless, the crooked way he’s smiling close-mouthed. Ford hopes it isn’t out of self-consciousness for his lost teeth and the shape the ones he has left are in. The longer Ford has loved Fiddleford, the more handsome Fidds has become, subjectively. He assumes it’s that way for everyone in love, but he’s never asked.

“We might as well get up.” Ford’s voice sounds like it’s being dragged across gravel. In all honesty, he has another idea regarding what they could do in a bed that they aren’t going to sleep in, but there’s no reason they can’t have coffee before sex.

“Sooner we get coffee into ya, the sooner it’ll metabolize and you can take a nap,” Fidds agrees. “Come on, then. We got frozen pizza for breakfast!” He’s much too full of energy for a man with his severity of caffeine dependency. Before he can rush off, Ford inches his face forward to kiss Fidds gently. Fiddleford puts a hand to Ford’s jaw, presumably to keep him in place, not that Ford was planning an escape.

Since the age of twenty, Ford has been of the opinion that Fiddleford is a very good kisser, though whether that’s due to the act of kissing just being generally pleasant or to Fidds’s natural talent, Ford doesn’t know. He used to entertain himself in college by imagining finding everyone Fiddleford had ever kissed and having them fill out a questionnaire, with the goal of determining the objectivity of his conclusion. “On a scale of one to five,” he would imagine writing, “how would you rate subject’s use of tongue during a kiss?” In spite of himself, Ford laughs, breaking away from Fiddleford’s mouth. He hasn’t thought about that in years and years.The lack of sleep must be making him giddy.

“Ain’t sure if that’s a compliment or not,” says Fidds, laughing too. “Be honest, now, does the beard tickle?”

Ford explains his secret, hypothetical study of Fiddleford’s past romantic interests, only a fraction as embarrassed as he would have been to talk about it thirty or forty years ago. He’s rewarded for his honesty by the thing Fiddleford’s face does as Ford explains his proposed methodology. His eyes shimmer with emotion, his mouth trembles, and his cheeks flush deep red.

“Ford!” He grabs Ford’s face with both hands. “That’s the most romantical thing I ever heard in my life! I can’t believe you never said anything about this before!” He kisses Ford again, then pulls back, looking almost irritated. “Dangit, if you weren’t so pathetic all sleep-deprived I’d say phooey to the whole notion of gettin’ outta bed and keep you here all day.”

Ford snorts. “Keep me here doing what, Fiddleford? Watching you sleep? Even when we were young you were always out like a light about twenty seconds after–” Ford interrupts himself by huffing when Fidds shoves him unceremoniously back onto his own side of the bed. He always was startlingly strong for his build.

“You can go ahead and talk yourself out of havin’ any fun with your old pal Fiddleford if’n that’s what’ll make you happy, Stanford. I’m gonna get me some coffee.” But he smiles when he says it, not really angry of course.

Ford reaches out a hand to him, only half as a joke. “I hope it goes without saying that I think of you as more than an old pal,” he says, pressing his free hand to his chest. Fiddleford pulls him out of bed and onto his feet. “You’re an old pal with an unparalleled technical mind and a very pleasant accent,” Ford goes on, putting his arm around Fidds.

“Oh yeah, the country charm always worked wonders on you, don’t think I don’t know it,” Fiddleford says, mouth curling at the corner. He removes the arm from around his waist and takes Ford’s hand again. Ford isn’t sure what’s gotten into them lately. Thank god Stanley isn’t here to witness Ford and Fiddleford acting like idiot honeymooners. “C’mon, hon, you look dead on your feet. Coffee.”

Ford grinds his teeth. He wishes he could hang on to his good mood, but it plunges at the reminder about coffee. Coffee means committing to another few hours awake. Or less. Maybe less. Worst case scenario, he will wander off to one of Fiddleford’s labs or workshops and climb into a cupboard to sleep, as if he’s on the run from Bill’s forces and can’t sleep openly in an undefended room.

Best case scenario, he’ll end up in Fiddleford’s bed, dead to the world. And, as long as he’s wishing for things, he might ideally sleep for a good four hours. (The middle case scenario for sleep, incidentally, is falling asleep in one of the mansion’s several sitting rooms. Fine, but not great for his back. A cupboard floor is more supportive.)

Now that he’s standing, Ford’s joints feel like water. Loud, popping, grinding water. His left thumb aches fiercely from his arthritis. His right fares better, the right arm having been cut off at the shoulder and regrown when he was fifty. Each time Ford blinks, his eyes click loudly. He can’t believe that a mere few minutes ago he was considering doing something as energetic as having sex.

In Fiddleford’s vast kitchen Ford sits at the scuffed table and mismatched chairs Fidds has crammed inelegantly against the breakfast counter as Fidds makes coffee and preheats the oven. He realizes he’s closed his eyes when he hears Fidds sigh but doesn’t see it.

“I was thinkin’ about pickin’ your brain over a robot I been fiddlin’ with, but somehow I think your brain may be slim pickings this mornin’.”

“Luckily I’m just the looks,” Ford mumbles. Fidds chuckles.

“Well, you ain’t holdin’ that side up, neither. No offense, darlin’, but you look like ten pounds of shit in a two-pound bag. If you don’t get some sleep soon, Stan’ll think I’m mistreatin’ ya. ”

Ford grimaces at the thought of being passed back and forth between his brother and his lover to be looked after, as if he can’t do a thing for himself. He opens his mouth, thinking naively that it will express the thought in his brain, but instead it says “Is it a bear?”

“What’sat?” Fidds calls.

“The robot you want to build,” Ford calls, propping his forehead on his hand. God, what he wouldn’t give to be in his bunk right now. Why can’t he sleep in Gravity Falls? It was his home for years. He’s slept peacefully in a miniscule bed with Fiddleford more times than he can count, so the gigantic piece of real estate Fiddleford calls a mattress should pose no problem. There’s just nothing that accounts for Ford’s failure in this department.

Ford feels a hand in his hair, hears the thud of a large mug of coffee being set on the table before him.

“Not every robot and elixir I rustle up is inspired by cartoons. I was actually thinkin’ bout something that’d take care of the Mystery Shack’s roofin’ problems. Poor Soos’s got his hands full, and Mabel told me she and Dipper did the retiling last summer.” Fidds takes a slurping sip of coffee, reminding Ford to do the same, savoring the burning feeling as it pours down his throat and into his belly. “And no offense to those two, but they’re no kinda roofers. Somethin’s gotta be done.”

“That’s kind of you,” Ford says, leaning into Fiddleford’s hand.

“I try,” Fidds says fondly.

#forduary #forduary2023 #gravity falls #fiddauthor #my post #my fic

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alittlelessalone · 10 months

Text

Last night I wrote some soft qijiu for my really long fanfic (progress is happening. I’ll get enough written to start posting eventually!). Because this scene isn’t until part 5, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to share it now.

Giving full context is way too long and complex, but here’s the basic gist. While he was still a disciple, Shang Qinghua ended up saving Shen Jiu from the Qui’s and caused a lot of ripple effects. Now years later, Shen Yuan has just arrived (in his own body) and expects the world to still be like in PIDW. He and Binghe recently went on a mission that didn’t go super well (think the skinner demon beginner mission) and Shen Qingqui had to come and bail them out. This takes place later that evening.

Anyway, here it is! A warning for some light references to past child abuse (Shen Jiu’s) and scars.

Shen Qingqui sank into the mass of soft pillows and blankets. He let out a moan as his tired muscles all but melted into his mattress. To his side, a warm lump shifted slightly to better accommodate his sprawl.

“Who said you could move? Get back over here.” Shen Qingqui rolled over to face his husband and gave him a pointed scowl.

Qi-ge only laughed and obeyed, rolling back in closer so Shen Qingqui could nuzzle up against him. Qi-ge draped a gentle arm across his shoulder, pulling him even closer and rubbing circles against his back.

“Long day?” His fingers pressed into a tight spot between Shen Qingqui’s shoulder blades and Shen Qingqui let out a deep moan. Qi-ge sighed contently at the sound and pecked a chaste kiss on the top of his head.

Shen Qingqui pressed his face against Qi-ge’s chest and breathed in his comforting warmth. “That child is going to be the death of me. How can he be so talented and smart, but also so absurdly stupid?”

Qi-ge chuckled softly. “Ah yes. I heard Binghe and Shen Yuan ran into a little trouble today and that Ming Fan and Ning Yingying served as accomplices. There were apparently four rather contrite looking disciples kneeling in reflection in one of the meditation pavilions.”

Shen Qingqui sighed. “It’s always good seeing my disciples make new friends and Binghe seems particularly taken with young A-Yuan, but there’s a difference between showing off a little and being just plain dumb. Honestly, what was that child thinking today?”

Qi-ge let out another chuckle. “It sounds to me as though he simply wasn’t. But sometimes that’s just how children are. Not me of course, I was always a model of foresight and patience, but other, less rational and level headed children might behave that way from time to time.”

Shen Jiu pulled one of his arms from his comfortable embrace to reach around and smack Qi-ge none too lightly in the back of his head. It was probably a good thing for his husband that his fan was tucked safely away out of reach, but Qi-ge only laughed at the blow. He pressed another kiss to the top of Shen Qingqui’s head.

“Hopefully Binghe will reign himself in long before he reaches the levels of impetuous stupidity I did, but either way, I know you’ll be there to help steer him in the right path.”

“So long as he doesn’t send me to an early grave first,” Shen Qingqui groused. Qi-ge only kissed him again. “Naturally. But you know perfectly well that I’d never allow that.”

The pair lapsed back into a comfortable silence, filled only with the sounds of their slow and steady breaths. Beneath his head, Qi-ge’s chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm. It was almost enough to lull Shen Qingqui to sleep, but his mind wasn’t ready to rest quite yet.

“Did you hear that Shen Yuan jumped between me and Binghe today?”

Qi-ge stiffened slightly. “I didn’t. What brought that on?”

Shen Qingqui closed his eyes and recalled Shen Yuan’s terrified face. He had tried so hard to mask it under a veil of bravado and defiance, but Shen Qingqui had lived too much of his life surrounded by frightened eyes to recognize them as anything less. The Qui manor in all its opulent glory had no shortage of mirrors and he was intimately familiar with his own.

“He was afraid I was going to hurt Binghe. He saw me angry and approaching him and assumed the worst.”

Qi-ge let out a long sigh. “Unfortunately that’s not completely uncommon for children either. It’s always sad to see it manifest though.” His fingers continued to trace soft lines along Shen Qingqui’s back, running over the long-since scabbed over whip scars. “At least he’s now in one of the best places he could be to start healing now.”

Shen Qingqui smiled at the thought. “Cang Qiong Mountain really is very good for that. I never imagined I could even start the process, let alone end up where I am now.” He tilted his head up to press a kiss against Qi-ge’s jaw.

Qi-ge leaned down and gently caught his lips in his own. The kiss was soft and short, but Qi-ge waited for Shen Qingqui to pull him back in with more force. Their tongues brushed, sending shivers down Shen Qingqui’s spine. No matter how many years passed, the taste of his husband still left him feeling tingly and warm.

Eventually they pulled apart once more, although Qi-ge kept their foreheads pressed together. “I’m so proud and happy for you, Xiao Jui. There’s nothing more beautiful in the world than seeing you filled with joy. But I wasn’t actually talking about our sect when I said he was in a good place. Our sect as a whole is wonderful, but it has nothing on him finding you.”

Shen Qingqui’s cheeks grew warm and he buried his face against Qi-ge’s chest once more. “Moron.” He smacked Qi-ge again. “When did you become so disgustingly sentimental?”

Qi-ge gently stroked one of his burning cheeks. “Probably the moment I realized I had someone precious to me whose side I never wanted to leave.”

“Moron.” With his face still pressed against Qi-ge’s chest, he didn’t bother rolling his eyes. Besides, Qi-ge would never buy the annoyance anyway.

“I hope you’re right though. I was lucky enough to be surrounded by wonderful, kind-hearted morons who were willing to stand by me even at my worst. I just want them to have at least that.”

Qi-ge chuckled once more. “Well, as long as our friends and I are around, you should have no shortage of morons. But I’m sure your disciples can all feel your love. And I know they’re all safe now.”

Shen Qingqui closed his eyes once more and let the weight of the world drift away against his husband’s chest. “I really do have the best morons anyone could possibly hope for. Now what are you still doing up at this hour? Honestly. Go to sleep already.”

Qi-ge wrapped his arms a little tighter around Shen Qingqui and rested his head against his. “Of course, my love. Silly me.”

#qijiu #original shen qingqiu #yue qingyuan #scum villian self saving system #svsss #fanfic snippet #they are soft and in love #and have talked about things #Shen Qingqui has chosen to reclaim Xiao Jiu #I swear this fic will be published one day #once I fully finish parts 1 and 2 #until then enjoy the soft love!

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starrgaziinggg · 2 years

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BEGIN AGAIN | hwang hyunjin

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE (18+)

Hwang Hyunjin messes with your head, unknowingly, for over a month. Until you can't take it anymore.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Growing up with Chris Bang as your best friend had it's perks - a permanent bodyguard, a shoulder to cry on... and seven other boys who also became your best friends as you grew up together.

Week in, week out, your routine stayed the same. Study, go to class and patiently wait to attend your regular Friday evening home cooked meal with your friends. You just couldn't wait to graduate and start working, to rid yourself of exams and finally start earning some proper money like the boys.

Desperate to put some light back into your mundane, studious life, Chris forces you to start blind dating. Two miserable dates down and ready to murder the man, someone completely unexpected appears and makes a mess of your orderly life.

And a mess he does make.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: chapter twenty five

Sunlight streams into your bedroom the next morning, waking you up at a time far too early for your liking and making you realise you forgot to close your blind last night. And that's when it hits you - last night. Hyunjin.

You get butterflies instantly thinking of the events that occurred a couple hours before, and it makes you very aware of the fact you're naked. Yes, you were very naked last night, but you have no idea what kind of sex-crazed high you were on, this morning you're feeling cold and, well, naked.

You slowly untangle yourself from Hyunjin, being careful, and grab some underwear from your drawer, going to the bathroom to freshen up. It's definitely not true what they say about post-sex glow, because right now your hair is tangled and there's dried drool on your chin. It takes you maybe ten minutes to fix your appearance to a relatively acceptable standard, so you head back towards your room.

You slowly roll back into bed, not wanting to wake the man up, but you figure your efforts were futile when he starts to open his eyes.

"Morning, angel," he sighs contently, a smile appearing on his face instantly. You snuggle back into his chest, feeling much more secure in your semi clothed state, and he pulls you into him, resting his face in the crook of your neck. His hand absentmindedly goes into your hair, playing with the strands (which you're thankful you brushed).

"You need to get up for work soon," you say after a while, eyes closed and enjoying the moment of warmth with your boyfriend. Damn, that was going to take some getting used to.

"I'm not going to work today," he replies sleepily, moving his hand down to your shoulder and lightly dusting his fingers up and down the length of it.

"Why?" You say back, feeling goosebumps on his arms as he touches you. You feel like you're slowly going back to last night...every time he talks, every time he touches you.

"I'd much rather spend my time here, with you," he says in a low voice. You don't think you will ever get tired of listening to his sleepy morning voice. You move yourself so your facing him, his face inches away from yours.

"You need to work, Hyun," you say, trying to keep the facade that you actually give a flying crap about the fact he needs to work to look as though your a good girlfriend, when realistically all you want to do is for him to stay here with you.

"I don't need to do anything, princess," he mocks you. "Other than stay here. I've already said I'm not coming in."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? Had big plans did you?"

He smirks at you, holding your bare shoulder with has hand. "Well, I had a hopeful plan of how I wanted our night to end. Consummate the relationship and all."

You hit him lightly while the two of you laugh together at his idiocy.

"I'm kidding, but I had nothing important on today at work so I took a day off. I was planning on helping you with cooking later, if you want me to," he says, his eyes slowly going from your eyes to your lips, which doesn't go unnoticed.

"You had nothing important on today?" You say with a raised eyebrow.

He hums, eyes just going straight to your lips with no shame.

"Having sex with your girlfriend isn't important?" You say, feeling bold and taking the opportunity that's presented itself.

Hyunjin's eyes widen and he raises his eyebrows with smirk. "Who says we're having sex?"

You roll your eyes and move your body on top of his, holding yourself up so that your bodies aren't touching properly and your faces are right beside each other.

"Me," is all you say, giggling at yourself before going in towards Hyunjin and placing your lips on his. He moans into the kiss straight away, and you feel his large hands going straight to your hips, keeping you secure. As he deepens the kiss, finding a good rhythm, the hands on your sides slowly force you down so that your bodies are flush together, and you feel the length of him, hard.

"You really know how to turn me on, you know," he says lowly, pulling away from your mouth shortly to say the words before reattaching his lips to your collarbone. He swirls his tongue in a spot that makes you shiver.

"Please Hyun," you say breathily when his hands go to your ass, moving your hips back and forth slowly.

"Please what, beautiful?" He asks, his breath hot on your skin. You place a hand on his chin, lifting his head up so it's level with yours.

"I want you, Hyun, I want to feel you," you say, the words coming out more of a whine that anything else. You see him smirk, eyes sparkling.

"You're wish is my command, princess," he says, moving his hand to grab another condom from the pack he used last night. You're aware it's rushed, messy and nowhere near as heartfelt and intimate as the night you spent together last night. But your hearts still racing, your heads still spinning, and you're desperate for the man below you to make you feel good.

He moves your underwear to the side, not wanting to waste time taking them off and aligns himself with you. He pushes himself inside of you slowly and breathes out steadily when he bottoms out. The stretch feels amazing, after last night you feel much more comfortable and relaxed being intimate. His hands travel up to your back and land at the clasp of your bra, looking at you for confirmation. You nod your head and he unclasps it in one quick motion, discarding your lace bra at the side of your bed.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful, love," he says, shaking his head in disbelief, you feel heat rising to your cheeks, but your embarrassment subsides when he moves towards you and starts swirling that tongue of his round one of your nipples. You can't help but let out a whine and you feel Hyunjin smile.

He pulls away to look at you, smiling, and you start to lift your hips. He watches you intently as you do so, his eyes following your every move as you sink back into him. You pick up the pace, finding a rhythm and watch as Hyunjin throws his head back in pleasure.

"Fuck," he hisses through his teeth, and it's almost as if his sense of control breaks as his hands go lower and grab your hips, moving you into a position where he can fuck into you. He sets a fast pace as he does this, losing his restraint and you start seeing stars when he continuously pounds into you, hitting you deeply.

"God, fuck, princess," he breaths heavily, opening his eyes to see you trying to keep yourself sane, a whining and moaning mess. Hyunjin knows just what to do to get you going, and you seem to be able to reciprocate that for him to, seeing how little time it took for him to feel like he could come.

You continue this way for a while, both fucking into each other at a fast pace, your lewd noises filling the apartment, until you feel Hyunjin's motions get sloppier and his grip on you becomes rougher, pounding into you deeper with every thrust. It sends you straight to your orgasm, the deep thrusts hitting you perfectly. You lose yourself on top of him, legs shaking. He tells you when he comes, releasing into the condom just as you begin to come down from your high. He doesn't bother pulling out of you as you collapse onto his chest, panting. The two of you don't talk, just embrace each other's sweaty bodies as Hyunjin begins to caress your hair.

"I don't know how we're ever going to stop, princess," he says, and you giggle. "I'm not kidding. I can't get enough of you. Quick fuck, or intimate sex - it doesn't matter. I just want you constantly."

"The feeling's mutual," you say with a smile. After a couple minutes, Hyunjin pulls out of you and discards the condom, coming back to lay with you. "God, I probably smell so bad right now."

"Yeah, you stink. Go shower," he says, in a tone that you can tell he's joking. You get up all the same, stretching your arms and rubbing your sleepy eyes awake.

"Well so do you. Want to join?" You say, turning back to face him and wiggling your eyebrows. He raises one of his own at the offer and laughs when you jump up off your bed and start running towards your bathroom, jumping out of the underwear you still had on. You chuck them behind you absentmindedly before you reach the bathroom.

"Ah! Pants!" You hear Hyunjin say from behind you, and you can't help the laugh that escapes.

The rest of the morning is spent lazily. After the two of you wash up, you chill on the sofa together, watching tv and sitting on your phones, talking occasionally. It reminds you of the time you spent as friends, just enjoying each other's company. When it gets to mid day, you decide you should start preparing for your dinner. Hyunjin offers to go buy the supplies you need while you clean your apartment, saying he should stop off at his to get a change of clothes.

You clean your apartment with a smile, thinking about how amazing you were feeling about your relationship. It was so new, and exciting, and you absolutely adored the side of Hyunjin that you'd been seeing recently. When he arrived an hour or so later, grocery bag in hand and wearing trousers and a t-shirt, you were finishing up hoovering the living area of your apartment.

"There was no Fanta at the store so I just got lemonade for Jisung, do you think he'll kill you?" He says as you switch off the hoover and unplug the cord. It was funny how quickly the two of you had fallen into a domesticated routine.

"I mean, since you're the one who got the wrong thing I feel like he will kill you?" You question, taking the grocery bag from his hands and placing it on your countertop, emptying its contents.

"I mean," Hyunjin mocked. "Since our friends aren't aware of our relationship, it would be strange for me to be buying drinks for your party, so all in all he will be killing you."

He shrugged with a sneaky smile, going towards you. You push him away with a scowl, but smile as soon as you turn away from him. You start to open the packets of food, using your phone to open up the recipe your mum had sent you. It was fairly simple, and you'd made the burgers with her before years ago, so you felt like it wouldn't be too hard. But, you never know, considering you and Hyunjin were two of the worst cooks maybe ever.

Regardless, you both set to work. You made Hyunjin handle the easier things like the salad, fries and setting the table, whilst you prepared the burgers themselves, following the recipe to a T. You were honestly shocked and pretty pleased at how well things were going as you swayed your hips to the music you'd put on whilst the two of you cooked.

After a while, you felt Hyunjin walk over to you and wrap his arms round your back while you worked. You leaned back into his touch as he placed a kiss on an exposed part of your neck.

"Look at us go, eh? Who would have thought we'd be able to successfully make a meal together?" He says from beside you.

"I know right?" You reply, finishing off forming the shape of the final burger meat. That made nine in total, and your hands were starting to cramp from the repetitive action.

"Makes me feel a lot more calm about our future of cooking together," he says cheekily as he detaches himself from you and moves back to do his own thing again.

The next thing you hear is a splatter, quickly followed by a yelp and an, 'oh shit.' You slowly turn around, honestly not wanting to see what's happened, and you're faced with Hyunjin, salad dressing splattered all over his clothes.

"For gods sake," you laugh, tilting your head at the irony of the situation. Hyunjin just pouts adorably.

"I jinxed it," he says with a chuckle, dropping his shoulders in defeat. You expected something like this to happen, so you're really just glad it didn't end up being a more severe situation. "In my fairness, the cap to the salad dressing was faulty."

"Come on, I have a tonne of your guys' clothes in a drawer in my room. There's not point in you going back to your apartment now cause the guys will be here soon," you say, washing your hands and motioning for him to follow you.

"Why have you got loads of stuff?" He asks as he falls into step behind you.

"Just accumulated it over the years. Chris likes to be naked, and Jisung constantly forgets his clothes when he stays. Plus I have, like, ten of Jeongin's hoodies," you explain. You had noticed guys clothes in your apartment beginning to pile up and eventually just dedicated a drawer for it all. If the boys complained about missing an item of clothing, you just told them to look in the drawer and they usually found what they were looking for.

"You should give it back," Hyunjin says huffily, which instantly makes you laugh.

"Not getting jealous of our friends, are we Hyun?" You say with a raised eyebrow, opening the drawer for him. Your smugness is wiped away, however, when Hyunjin takes his tshirt off and gives you a great view of his gorgeous back. You realised you'd never thought someone's back was hot before him.

"Course not, but my clothes should be in this drawer instead," he says, turning to give you a smile before rummaging around in the drawer. You sit on your bed and immerse yourself in your phone as you wait for him to find something suitable. You see you friends are texting on your group chat again, so you open it to see what's happening.

BUNCH OF USELESS FUCKING IDIOTS

-> members: Baby Bread 👶🏽🥖 , Papa Smurf 💙, Changbin Aegyo King 🤴🏽, Puppy 🐶, Lino 🙀, Aussie Chick 🐥 <3, Hyun 🫶🏻, HANdjob 😔, The one with the uterus 👸🏼

HANdjob 😔

hey Lix Lino is asking if u want a ride in like 30 mins ???

Aussie Chick 🐥 <3

Yeah thanks ! :]

Puppy 🐶

Ew I hate that smile

Aussie Chick 🐥 <3

The smile hates you back Seungmo

HANdjob 😔

Anyone else low-key worried abt the state of the meal were abt to b served ????????

Baby Bread 👶🏽🥖

Ye but at least she cooks better than you

HANDjob 😔

Unprovoked ?

Baby Bread 👶🏽🥖

You provoke me every day

The one with the uterus 👸🏼

No burger for you Handjob 🙂

HANdjob 😔

For the millionth f***** time change my name in your phone I'm so done

The one with the uterus 👸🏼

No❤️

Aussie Chick 🐥 <3

Not the asterisks 👀👀

Plus your one short if you were trying to spell fucking

Puppy 🐶

What an incompetent man

You just roll your eyes at the disaster which is your friend group and focus your attention back to Hyunjin, who's found clothes that fit him. A white Calvin Klein tshirt and a pair of black jeans.

"Who's clothes even are these?" He asks you as he fixes his hair.

"Not a clue, to be honest. I don't even know when I got them," you laugh and the two of you make your way back to your kitchen living space.

You start cooking the burger meat, which ends up taking a while. Hyunjin helps for you (you set a timer for him so he knows exactly when to stop cooking each burger. You did not want a repeat of the undercooked steaks) so that you can get ready. You just put on a pair of loose trousers and a tank top with a jumper, not bothering to check your outfit in the mirror. You tie your hair up too, so it's out your face when you serve the food for you friends.

You take over from your boyfriend for the last few burgers as your friends start to arrive. Jeongin and Seungmin are first, Jeongin coming straight over to hug you without a second thought.

"Hey noona," he says with a lazy smile, pulling off his jacket and going over to your dining table to place it on the back of a chair.

"Hey Innie, how's work?" You ask, moving on to flip the final burger. You were cooking them three at a time, so that the ones cooked first wouldn't get too cold.

"Oh same old. There was a spider in the classroom yesterday and I had to make one of the kids take it outside," he says with an adorable grin. You only laugh at the boy, shaking your head. Seungmin stops his conversation with Hyunjin to give you a wave and a hello, which you return before going back to cooking. The two boys help put the drinks and salad onto the table, making sure everything is prepared as the other guys start to turn up.

Minho, Jisung and Felix are next to arrive, before Chan and finally Changbin, late as ever. They start pouring drinks and mingling as you bring the plates with the burger buns and meat over to the table and tell everyone to start digging in. That they do, each taking a burger and whatever extras they want.

"Yah! This is actually good," Jisung says as you finally seat yourself in between Hyunjin and Chan and start to take food for yourself. After standing beside the hot cooker for so long, you start to feel hot, so you put down your cutlery and pull of the woolly jumper you had on.

"What do you mean actually, dick face," you say to Jisung once your jumpers removed, but after you do you realise every single one of your friends are staring at you, including the handsome man beside you.

"The fuck?" Changbin says outwardly, a cocky smile on his face as he crosses his arms. You scrunch your nose up in confusion, looking towards Jeongin for a better indication of why they were all staring at you. He just had his mouth wide open. You roll your eyes at them.

"Look, I know I'm hot, but if you'd prefer to take a picture -" you start to say, but Minho cuts you off with a cough.

"Um, 5 o'clock," he whispers harshly, which only makes you more confused. You know Minho used clock times as an indication of which direction he wants you to look in, but the only thing in your five o'clock directional is Seungmin.

"You have, like, four hickies on your collarbone," Seungmin says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, filling you in on the big secret. Your eyes instantly widen as your brain clicks into place. Minho must of meant 5 o'clock directional downwards on your body. Because at your 5 o'clock, as your friend pointed out, are a lovely array of hickeys made visible from the thin strapped tank top you were wearing.

Oh. Fuck.

"I...um..." you trailed off, trying your best not to make eye contact with Hyunjin to make the both of you look even more suspicious.

"Hold on, is that my tshirt, Hyunjin?" Jisung says after narrowing his eyes and the man beside you. You finally allow yourself to turn to him, and you just know by his expression. You're both fucked.

"Why is Hyunjin wearing your tshirt?" Jeongin asks, directing the question to Jisung who shrugs. You look at Minho, your only form of solidarity, but he just puts his hands up.

You and Hyunjin share a look, and you both know this is it. Big moment.

"So, basically, um..." you start, trying to find the right words and staring at the table instead of your friends.

"We're dating," Hyunjin cuts in, and you turn sharply to stare at him, wide eyes, before looking at each of your friends for their reaction. Minho looks impressed, smirking his usual happy smirk. Chan looks how he always does when he's pleased for you - like a proud older brother, arms folded in contempt. Felix is beaming from ear to ear, literally, clapping his hands.

What you don't expect is to turn to your left and see Changbin and Jeongin hand Seungmin a couple of notes. Your jaw drops.

"You bet on us?" You say, folding your arms in a huff. "Okay, from Seungie and Bin it's expected, but you Jeongin?"

He just gives you a sheepish grin. "I couldn't help myself, I really thought I would win!"

"Well you didn't, sucker - I did!" Seungmin says with a toothy grin. Hyunjin just chuckles and you try not to jab him.

"Why we're you so confident? What the hell did you bet?" You ask the younger boy.

"I bet you'd had a one night stand and called it off or something," he explained. You watch Hyunjin raise an eyebrow.

"Why didn't you think we were dating?" He asks him, and Jeongin gives him a devilish grin.

"I didn't think you were noona's type," he says.

"And what did you think her type was," Hyunjin counters, curious.

"Men who aren't ugly," the younger boy answers, cracking into a grin and bolting up from his seat when Hyunjin starts chasing him round your apartment.

"And what did you two bet?" You ask the other boys in on the shady shady work. Changbin speaks up first.

"Well, obviously Seungmo bet you were dating, but I bet you guys were just friends with benefits," he explains and you roll your eyes. The audacity.

"I should have got in on this betting action, I would have for sure won," Minho says, giving you a wink.

"Hold the fuck up," Jisung says loudly, and your attention goes to him. "So, everyone knew there was something going on between the two of you but me?"

The room falls into silence. Even Hyun and Jeongin stop beating each other up, before everyone but Jisung bursts into laughter.

"Pretty much, yeah," Felix says through fits of giggles. The expression on Jisung's face is priceless, clearly unhappy about not knowing.

"You've got to be in the know to know, you know," Minho says to him, patting his shoulder with a chuckle which cracks you up even more.

"I can't," Felix continues, wiping at tears in his eyes. "The fact that everyone but Hannie knew that you and Hyunjin had something going on."

Even you and Hyunjin can't contain your laughter. Poor Jisung, being the only one unaware of the budding relationship.

"I can't believe you guys! This is the definitive last straw. I'm making new friends," he says, crossing his arms huffily.

"Good luck with that," Seungmin says in English, which just sends you all over the edge.

Once the hilarity has worn off and Jisung has started to lighten up, you all fall into natural conversation. Time passes far too quickly for your liking, and you notice how Hyunjin displays very small forms of physical affection towards you - a hand on your thigh or a smile in your direction - but it's enough to set butterflies off in your stomach. Once everyone is finished eating, the boys start pulling out Monopoly, which you huff at, as it's another game that you and your friends take far too seriously.

You and Jeongin begin to wash the dishes as Felix and Chan clear the table, while the other guys start setting up the game.

"So, Hyunjin, huh?" Jeongin says to you whilst he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, handing you a plate to dry.

"Oh shut up, Jeongin," you laugh as you give him a nudge.

"For real, though, you two are actually really sweet together. It's kind of obvious looking back how much you two were destined to be together," he says, putting a hand to his heart all knowingly.

"Stop with the cringe before I actually die," you say, rolling your eyes as your cheeks flush red. "But do you really think so?"

You look at him with wide eyes, and he chuckles at you. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't think it, you know that. Seriously, though, if he even tries to hurt you in any way shape or form -"

"Really, Jeong?" You laugh, cutting him off as he passes you another plate. "You're giving me the 'older brother' talk? Hyunjin could kick your ass."

"No he could not!" The younger boy shouts.

"Yes he could!" You hear Hyunjin shout from where he is, which makes you laugh.

"Whatever," Jeongin says as he sticks his tongue out at Hyunjin. "The point still stands. You mean a lot to me, as gross and cringe as it is, and I saw how upset you've been the last couple weeks and I don't want to see you like that again."

You smile at the younger boy and pinch his cheek, moving to give him a hug. "Thanks, Innie. That's really sweet."

"Hey hey hey! Hands off my girlfriend," Hyunjin shouts over again, and you laugh as you and Jeongin move away from each other and he ruffles your hair. The boys round Hyunjin give him a flurry of gross noises at his words, but he doesn't seem to care less, looking at you with a face full of adoration. And you can't believe, in this moment, how lucky you really are.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX HERE!

#bang chan #changbin #felix lee #han jisung #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #jeongin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #smut #skz smut

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