#especially when paired with awful anxiety

[everyonewooeverywhere]

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ bf!san x gn!reader

synopsis ✭ San is always available. Especially on your bad days.

content/genre ✭ fluff, comfort (no angst really. reader just cries over unnamed stress)

word count ✭ 1k

✭ ✭ ✭ ✭

There was a soft knock at your door. You knew who it was, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to get off the couch. He had a key anyway.

“Y/n?” you heard from outside the door, “Can I come in?”

He always asked no matter how many times you told him he didn’t have to. He waited a few beats for your response that never came before you heard his keys jingle. You threw your blanket over your head when you heard the key slide into the lock and the door click open.

“Love?” The door closed behind him as he made it into the front room where you burrowed under your blanket on the couch. You felt him kneel down beside you and slowly lift the blanket off your head. 

You were hit with the cold air of the apartment, but you kept your eyes closed. “Are you pretending to sleep?” 

He poked your cheek, “I know you’re not asleep, y/n.”

You groaned and threw a hand over your eyes, “Sannie…”

“I’m here, angel,” he said, peeling your hand from your face to kiss your knuckles.

Opening your eyes finally, you looked to see your lovely boyfriend looking at you softly. His eyes lit up slightly when they met yours. “Hi, how are you?”

You open your mouth to tell him, but just trying to recollect your awful day made your eyes start watering. You try to keep the tears back by keeping your eyes on the ceiling above you but they pool up at your waterline.

You can’t look him in the eyes or you know the tears will fall faster. You don’t want him to pity you. Just the thought of him feeling bad for you makes you sick to your stomach. He shouldn’t have to coddle you like this. You’re not a child. You’re an adult for fucks sake. It shouldn’t be this hard for you to recover from a bad day.

But when you feel his arm slip under your upper back, you let him lift you up. He slides onto the couch behind you and pulls you into his chest. Softly playing with your hair and rubbing your back. He tells you that it’s okay to cry. Even though he knows you hate crying in front of other people, he encourages you to let it out. Never once does he pressure you to give him the details of your day.

You bury your face in his chest as you cry. It’s hard not to feel bad at the wet spot on his shirt even though he’d tell you that you never have to feel bad for something so small. Your tears are hot, though, as they fall from your eyes. Pouring out uncontrollably because of how long you’d held them in. 

It hurts San’s heart to see you like this. As much as he wants to be strong for you and as bad as he wants you to think that he’s unfazed by your outpour of emotion, he wishes he could take it all away. He’d keep all of you anxieties and heartaches on himself if he could. Seeing you so overwhelmed and falling apart on top of him is really hard for him to handle, but he stays strong for you. Because he knows that’s what you need. 

When he notices that you’ve stopped crying, he lets you stay on his chest for a few more moments, running his fingers through your hair. Slowly, and after several minutes of silence, you push yourself off of his chest. You let his thumbs wipe the tears from your cheeks. You smile softly at his gesture, “I love you, Sannie.”

He smiles and kisses you on the forehead. “I love you too, y/n.”

Everything else went unsaid but was fully understood. He knew that it meant everything to you that he had showed up for you. And you knew that his love and devotion ran deeper than either of you could really understand.

✭✭✭✭ 

When San finally got you off the couch, he’d encouraged you to take a shower. He made sure to order food before he took his time to pick up your apartment a little bit. You had been so overwhelmed with work and family stuff that you didn’t really have any motivation to do laundry or keep your apartment tidy. But he knew how much a cluttered space just added to your anxiety.

He picked up the loose clothes scattered around your bedroom and put them in the wash hoping he’d be at least able to get through some of your laundry before he left. In the kitchen he washed your dishes and put them all away before grabbing your trash and taking it out to the dumpster. 

Pushing the door you your apartment back open, he found you seated on the counter. Dressed in a fuzzy pair of pajama pants and an old t-shirt. When you saw him, you opened up your arms for him. He smiled and wrapped you in his own arms. 

“You’re doing okay. You know that, right?” He whispered into your hair. You hesitated but nodded.

You took a deep breath, “Thank you for always being here, Sannie.” 

He pulled away from your hair, still holding tight to your waist, “Of course. I’m here for you always. You know that.”

You smiled at him, “You didn’t have to do my laundry, though.”

Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Are you complaining?”

“No,” you laughed, “you can come over here every day if your gonna always do my laundry.”

“Baby I have a key. I can come over whenever I want,” he teases. Though, you both know he never comes over without checking in with you first.

You giggled and leaned into him, kissing him softly. He smiled at you with his eyes when he pulled away. “Will you spend the night?” You ask, cupping his face in your hands, running your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“Of course,” he leaned into your touch, “I can tell everyone I’ll be a little late tomorrow.”

Shaking your head you said, “No, baby, you don’t have to do that.”

He reached into his back pocket to grab his phone, “Too late. I’m already doing it.”

You poked him in the chest, “Fine, but you have to go before noon.”

“Are you kicking me out?”

“No. You just can’t always skip work for me.”

He kissed you on the cheek, “I’m always available for you. Work can wait.”

#san x reader #san fluff #choi san x reader #choi san fluff #san #choi san #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #san scenarios #san imagines #choi san scenarios #choi san imagines

[wttcsms]

baby, oh baby ; satoru gojo

pairing satoru gojo x f!reader word count 1.2k synopsis gojo is surprisingly good at caring. (or: he comforts you while you get morning sickness and start spiraling). content contains thr*wing up (morning sickness), pregnancy, pregnant!reader, domestic fluff, soft!gojo, reassurance

Satoru Gojo knows he’s a dead man from the minute he swings open the bathroom door and finds you curled up by the toilet. 

Even in his shirt and a pair of sweatpants that have clearly seen better days, with your hair all messed up and your lips chapped, Gojo thinks you are absolutely adorable. Beautiful, even. 

He tells you this, thinking it’ll cheer you up, but all you do is narrow your pretty little eyes at him.

“You,” you practically snarl at him. “You did this to me!”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Now, honey, I know it’s been a while since you took a biology class, but it takes two of us to, you know—” He gestures to your stomach, which still isn’t showing much of a bump since it’s only the first trimester, but you get the message. He decides he should have just shut up whenever you send him an absolutely scathing glare.

“It’s all my fault.” He immediately changes his tune. “You’re right, honey, I am an awful person for getting you pregnant. You should kill me for my transgressions.” 

“You want to make me a single mother now?” You snap at him.

“Okay, I see that that was the wrong thing to say.” Gojo tries to give you a soothing smile to calm you down, but it comes off as more of a nervous grimace. “I would never die early and let you raise our wonderful child alone. As a matter of fact, I refuse to die only until you tell me it’s okay to do so!” 

“Satoru.” You close your eyes, opening the toilet lid, anticipating another bout of morning sickness to come spilling out your mouth. “Get out.” 

“Nah. That’s the one thing I can’t do.” He dares to take another step into the bathroom, frowning at how cold the marble tiles are. It can’t possibly be comfortable for you to be kneeling on the floor like this, especially since you’re throwing up last night’s dinner. 

“Satoru, I’m not being funny right now. I’m seriously about to vomit, and you won’t want to be here.”

He kneels down by your side, gathering your hair in his hand and pulling it all behind your shoulders. “I’m not being funny, either. I’ll stay by your side no matter what.” 

You don’t reply to his sweet comment, even though you really want to. Instead, you actually do make good on your word, and only after you flush the toilet does he bother saying anything else.

“Do you feel a bit better now?” 

“Yes. No. I don’t know!” You shut your eyes, leaning against him, your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. Being pregnant sounded hot during the heat of the moment when the baby was being made, but now reality is hitting, and you’re already crying about how ugly maternity clothes are. You look like a wreck right now, and you’re barely nine weeks in with the pregnancy. Meanwhile, Satoru looks fan-fucking-tastic, as he always does. 

His hand finds yours easily, and he intertwines your fingers together. He starts to absentmindedly fiddle with your wedding ring as he talks. 

“What’s bothering you?” 

You know that while Satoru was pursuing you, there was a long line of women all excited and ready to be the one by his side. You know that Satoru sometimes is a certified flight risk, running away from intimacy when the feeling gets too overwhelming for him. You know that Satoru is the only man capable of breaking your heart, and he’s subsequently the only man who would be able to piece it back together. Even with a ring and a legal certificate binding you two together, there are still annoying little doubts running in the back of your mind that has only worsened through your anxiety of life literally being grown inside of you and unbalanced hormones. 

“Everything.” You tell him, and it’s not even a joke or an exaggeration. 

“Well, tell me something that’s bothering you now. Something I can solve.” He adds on this last sentence, already knowing that you would most likely ask him for the impossible just to be funny. As conceited as he acts to the outside world, Satoru is surprisingly caring and observant towards others. 

“What if our baby is ugly?” You look up at him, gauging his reaction.

At first, his eyes widen, and then he laughs. You can tell it’s genuine because you can feel the way it comes from his chest. 

“It has us as its parents. With both our genes combined, it won’t have much to worry about.”

“No! I’m serious! Haven’t you heard the saying that two pretty people make an ugly baby?” 

“Well, we’ll be the exception.”

“I’m being serious, Satoru! Your eyes are kinda scary to look at sometimes. Our baby will need brown contacts if it inherits your eyes.” 

Oh, so because you’re emotionally fragile, you’re allowed to make comments about his eyes? Satoru snorts. You better be lucky he loves you so much. 

“Why does it matter if our baby is ugly? Why is our baby being ugly even a thought in your mind?”

“This world sucks. Looking good is key to having an enjoyable experience on earth. You should start worrying about our child’s future, too, you know!” 

“I would fight the entire world if it mistreated our baby.” Satoru presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “And I know you would, too. So who cares if our baby is ugly?”

“That’s not the point, Satoru!” You frown, knowing that you’re being ridiculous right now, but who else could handle you in this state if not him? There’s a reason why he’s the one you call your husband, and he’s the one who put the aforementioned potentially-ugly baby inside of you. 

“Fine. If our baby is ugly, let’s leave it on Kento’s doorsteps and let it be his problem for the next eighteen years. Then, we can get started on the next and hope the second time’s the charm. Sounds like a solid plan?” He doesn’t mean it, but he knows it’s best to just try and nip these hypotheticals in the bud. 

You’re silent for a moment. Then, “You’re awful! I would love our baby, even if it had your eyes and crazy ass hair.” 

“I would love our baby, too. Ugly or not. You know why?”

“You’re going to say something corny.” 

“I was going to say that I would love our baby because it came from you. Nothing ugly is coming out of your body, babe. And anyway, I love you so much, how could I hate anything that’s literally half you?” 

Even if you’re in the mood to be annoying and insecure, and your brain is telling you to argue some more with your husband, you can’t help but relax after hearing this. 

(Nine months later, all your worries seem to be all for naught; your son is the cutest thing to be born.)

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #dad!gojo #domestic fluff #fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk one shot #drabble #gojo fluff #gojo x reader

[vminity21]

Goodbye to Hello | jjk

Pairing: badboy!jeongguk x female!reader

Word Count: 25,102

Genre: fluff, lots of smut oops, mega-angst, strangers to lovers!au, fuckboy/fuckgirl!au

Warning(s): profanity, infidelity, mega-angst (im sorry), mention of alcohol, smoking, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m + f receiving), slight m!dom, nipple play, hand job, dirty talk, ice play, ass grabbing, mention of a sex toy, squirting, hobi is a bad boy in this too, multiple orgasms, smutty kissing, reader may or may not have accidentally become a fuckgirl in this story sorry not sorry; Rated: 18+

Credit to: @yoonoclock for making such an incredible cover for this story that has taken me two long years to write. It’s finally where I need it to be and thank you so much Monnie for using your talent to create a banner that truly embodies the story.

Taglist: thank you so much for your patience with me! @ggukkieland @thisartemisnevermisses @moonchild1 @familiarlikemymirror3 @gukniverse​

Summary: After a devastating break up, you immediately move in with your sister, leaving behind the country life to relearn the ups and downs of the city. Adopting a cat and gaining a new job at a retail store part time, life seems to gradually bring happiness and healing, but you did not expect for it to become even more interesting when you stumble upon the enticing yet alluring tattoo artist, Jeon Jeongguk. Will this be an adventure of a lifetime? Or will hello always lead to goodbye?

Golden specks twinkle sporadically like fairy dust creating a shimmering tint to the air that collects the attention of any individual trailing the pavement. Pollen. The groovy excitement of a stuffy nose and mildly itchy eyes sounds stellar compared to how you could be feeling. Sniffling roughly, you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily to relieve what little of the itch that you can and trotting up the steps to your realm of refuge, you can hardly stand the excitement of bundling into the arms of your boyfriend, Jung Hoseok, and relaying how lovely it is to wipe your nose every five minutes. Maybe even ask if you can borrow the sleeve of his sweatshirt as a tissue. Pause. Maybe not.

Entering the rental home, you hadn’t noticed how eerily quiet it seemed, not right away; especially when you are so used to hearing the raging shots of a video game mingled with the yelling profanity between Hoseok and his best friend Kim Namjoon who bicker over headsets about wins that neither of them were really close to. But, let the males believe, they indeed, almost triumphed. Settling your handbag onto the dining table, you tilt your head in confusion. Is Hobi sick today? Where is he?

The floors creak beneath your tennis shoes while you observe the kitchen. That’s funny. The dishes are cleaned and put away, and not one stray of lint is seen upon the countertop- Hoseok has always been clean as well as you, but he never went over the top unless he had company over, and by company you mean his mother. Thoughts drift to the possibility of him wanting to surprise you for whatever the case may be, and your heart flutters at the mere inkling while a smirk graces your lips. How thoughtful, you feel gushy at his consideration of you, and your steps follow the direction of your bedroom.

It is then that your life spirals in a cluster of emotions that you will never forget; sparks dancing in your vision while your chest tightens intensely in response to the sounds you hear echoing beyond the door. No. You want to scream, but your throat constricts, not producing any verbalization no matter how much your brain signals. This can’t be real. Please don’t let this be real. The moans persist. The mystery female is eagerly gasping his name over and over while your heart shudders at the pain severing every vein within your frame. A tear falls panging the floor- your body is so tense, you shiver through the anxiety, and you know deep down that confronting him will hurt even worse than if you were to take the high road and walk away.

Wiping the dampness from your eyes, you spin to compile your things as in your handbag that contains your wallet, car key, and cellphone, and you march outside, slamming the front door behind you to shed some of the anger boiling in your system; you could care less if he heard your grand exit or not for you blocked his number before you settled into your car. You may be able to run from him, but you cannot run from the excruciating pain erupting beneath your chest nor the cycle of questions that refuse to stop spinning because why? After three years together, why would he betray you like this?

The front door flings open. Hoseok runs onto the porch in pure panic, hair disheveled, only in boxers, mouth gaping open as his widened eyes search until they lock with yours. But it’s too late. You are already safe within your car. Even when you notice the slim figure of a woman in one of his t-shirts, you do not move your gaze. You let the stare down with your boyfriend linger enough to rest your case. The second he starts rushing down the porch steps in a way to catch up to you for whatever meaningless apologies- meaningless explanations that will pour from his mouth- is when you reverse onto the road.

Behind the steering wheel with no destination in mind, you come up with the only solution you find reasonable, and you make your way to the city with the intention of starting over, even if it means it destroys you.

-

A queue of ants scurry along the lining of the windowsill where the sun tinges the glass against your knuckles. Shrivel sounds of the granola bar wrapper fills the silence of the kitchen while you gulp the final bite of your snack. Sometimes when your hands feel cold, you leave it to the sun to indulge your skin with warmth before trekking to your room, but instead, the growling of your stomach and the distraction of observing the insects seems to help with the boredom. Dread happens to consume the depths of your chest at the subtle reminder of returning to work in the morning; Sundays always bring the feeling of woe because it is the end of relaxation before continuing the week of being overwhelmed. But you figure adulting is worth it in some ways, and as everyone else, you must work to provide and live.

The chirp of your cat, Kenai, alerts your attention, him pouncing onto the counter to rub his head along your free wrist. “If you’re hungry, just say so,” you coo sarcastically, knowing he is due for his dinner in a few minutes. He will be a year old soon, his yellow eyes squinting as he rubs his head against your palm before arching his back once you run your hand to the end of his tail. Your eyes flit back to the ants darting in search of whatever they need, and inwardly, you are uncertain how your sister, Monnie would feel about the bugs, but you always found them fascinating.

Jumping off the counter, Kenai excitingly follows suit, twirling against your legs as you saunter to the pantry to retrieve his food. You have officially lived with your sister for a year now, and adopting Kenai was one of the best decisions you have ever made besides moving to the city. It is as if you disappeared from the prior life that you once lived and you like it just that way. Kenai temporarily ditches you for his food, and you stroll off to the living room where the scenery of a huge, flat screen television shows your reflection on the empty screen.

Monnie happens to be a successful artist who fell in love with another known artist by the name of Min Yoongi. Together they have won the world with their talent, and you could not have asked for a better couple to be in your life. If there is a true definition of love, it is how Yoongi gazes at your sister- because she is the only woman in the world, he will do anything and everything for. Jokingly, you always tell the pair that you are just going to stick with your cat, but the sadness that etches within Monnie’s eyes reveals that she hopes you will find a good man of your own. She is aware of why you abruptly returned to the place you were birthed, and she is aware that you refuse to speak of it even if it is pent up to the brim of imploding.

When you met your ex, it was in a park of all places. Not high school, not college, not through a family member or a friend: a park. It was a romantic way to begin even though you will never admit it now, but it started so naturally. So simple. You were reading a book while he was creating one. The way you were poised apparently sparked an idea for a story he openly confessed later on in the courtship. He described the scenery around you and how enwrapped in the book you were as something meant to be written for others to discover. How he could imagine a story just from the vision you had no idea you were forming for him.

You fell for him fast. Hard. He was your first everything aside from kissing and as time went by, you agreed to move in with him. You never expected what was going to happen in the future. You never anticipated such excruciating pain from the betrayal, nor did you notice any signs leading up to it. He’s tried contacting you from other phone numbers, but after four months apart, he seemed to have given up. But, because the pain is still so raw, you can’t bear to face him. You will crumple like a piece of paper in his presence if you were to ever see him again. For now, you do all you can to just avoid the situation as much as possible. Besides, he has her now. Whoever she may be.

Alas, what does it matter? It is not like he is able to reach out to you anyways for he is blocked on every and any social media site you can think of, and thankfully your name was not on the lease nor was your name hooked to anything involving your ex, so it will be fine. Or so you tell yourself repeatedly until you lose track of the thought. But that uneasy feeling creeps back up and instead of reaching for the remote, you decide maybe a walk around the city will be better. Monnie isn’t due home until later and you are assuming Yoongi will be tagging along, so why not pass the time by exploring?

Loneliness seeps in the gallows of your heart while you rush through the app for a driver. There is not a specific destination you prefer over another, so you pick a store at random around fifteen minutes away. With the money your sister has, she doesn’t expect you to pay for anything, all she cares about is your happiness though you refuse to not work; for now, you have a part time retail job whilst figuring out a career path that will become your future in the long term.

One thing you will say, is you have not missed driving in the city, hence the reasoning of you summoning a chauffeur. Traffic isn’t your favorite as commonly pronounced by anybody, and with how overwhelming your brain can feel, you prefer to be able to drift into the zone out rather than pay attention. Gripping the strap of your bag, you eagerly watch the road while cars pass by letting the heat of the breeze sweep through your hair. When the signal of your phone alerts you that your driver is close by, you aim your focus in the direction of a slowing vehicle, stunned by the countenance of a sharp jawline and rainbow colors dyed into bleach blonde strands.

The beauty you are about to behold is way out of your comfort zone, nor have you felt this attracted to an individual since your heart was obliterated a year ago. “Hi-hi,” you stutter once you enter the passenger side, the driver nods once with a smirk in tow, his button up snug to his frame, an earring dangling from his right ear.

“I’m Jimin,” he introduces, “Location still the bookstore in the city?”

“Yes please,” you are shocked you sound audible, but you return a timid smile while shoving some loose hair behind your reddening ear. The clean scent of lemon breaches past your nostrils while you try to maintain your composure, “I’m y/n, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” soft music plays in the background, yet the only sense you tune into is the pounding in your temples. Pull yourself together, he is just a guy who drives a car, who will safely take you to the bookstore, no biggie, you will survive, there are more important things to- “So, as a fellow book lover, I must ask, what is your favorite story?”

Oof. Conversation to minimize the awkward way your shoulders tense at the mere thought of looking over at him, you rummage through the possible answers, struggling to gather your words in a timely manner. “Very hard question,” you gulp, “It’s like asking to choose your favorite song or movie. Too many stories to explore,”

“And never a time you will run out of adventure,”

Eyebrows shoot up in response, “Right,” you smile, “Sounds like you love a good adventure,”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” a soft chuckle escapes past his plump lips while he keeps his gaze ahead on the traffic. “Have you resided here long?” Shifting nervously in your seat, you watch the buildings of the city closely in a way to avoid Jimin’s gaze without obviously melting.

“Only a year, made a split decision to move in with my sister. You?”

Jimin flits his stare for only a moment, “For a long while. My best friend and I are opening a bar not far from the bookstore, you should come sometime. Invite anyone and everyone you want.”

“I love me a good drink,” bravery enters your frame while you briefly scan the smooth skin of Jimin’s face. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Taehyung has a lot of success in his business, and this will be his fourth opening so celebration is a must. He has a lot of sponsors and connections, the main being Kim Seokjin,”

Gasping, you immediately turn to him, “You mean the actor Kim Seokjin? You’re kidding!”

Laughing, Jimin’s smile stretches to show pearly white teeth, “I will allow you to punch me if I am,”

Deep down you try to suppress the memory of your ex-boyfriend who had written a script in preparation to be read for a potential movie, one that would, in hopes, hire Kim Seokjin as the lead. Hoseok is talented in the writing department and had dreams of becoming a successful author, but you gladly dismiss the memory when Jimin pulls to park for you to exit.

“Here,” swiftly he pulls out a business card handing it to you with a friendly grin, “The opening is in a few weeks, will I see you there?”

“One hundred percent,” clutching the card in your hand, you wave before shutting the door, turning to face the bookstore to hide the fact you would prefer to stare at Jimin whose face will haunt you for the time being. For fucks sake, I need to get laid. As you desperately insert the card into your wallet, you pause. Nay! Male specimens suck, they all suck, my mother said the purpose of a male is to produce a child that I clearly am not ready to birth from the womb that is my pretty pink uterus. That bleeds. Monthly. Because I am not housing a fetus I- Ew. Maybe you’d rather be an aunt. Or have an ovariohysterectomy. Maybe your uterus would like to be taken out of the equation in general.

And now I need a coffee…. Shit.

Since when have you been this intimidated by a good-looking man? And when have you found any of your sporadic conscious entertaining? Therefore, you passionately believe in keeping your mouth shut when you’re on a tangent because humiliation is not in your vocabulary. Or… Is it? Also, you hate admitting how long it has been since you have even been kissed, much less caressed lovingly until you fell asleep. Is moving on from heartbreak too much to ask for? The heat of Hoseok’s kisses trailing your neck were enough to make you come undone, but his betrayal outweighs the good times- good times that evidently weren’t enough for him. Huffing in congruent with the squeezing of your shutting eyes, you step along the semi-crowded sidewalk where people mind their business enough to leave you alone. Your hand must have pressed against your stomach for a bit because you can still feel the presence of the touch before you subconsciously removed your palm.

The bookstore is a popular joint in your opinion. It stands four stories high with the fourth floor having a garden center where people can read and smell the perfumes of flowers in peace. Unfortunately, you are not in the best mood for getting lost in the lines of a tale considering you were too busy thinking about your erm, lady possessions, so you tread what you hope will be enough distraction until you feel satisfied enough to go home. It’s funny the curveballs life will throw at you especially when twists and turns decide to expose themselves in the unexpected ways everyone wishes will not happen unless it gleams nothing but happiness. Sadly, for some, the hits of negativity must spark lessons before one reaches the promise land, so when you make a turn into the alley way leading to a popular coffee shop, you do not anticipate the way your life is going to change. Nor do you fathom the string of events that are about to follow when you stumble upon a leathered frame, sucking in a puff of a cigarette while he flicks at his eyebrow shimmering with a piercing, leaning against the wall where he swallows roughly. Undercut freshly done, his nostrils release the smoke in what seems to be slow motion while you halt in place.

Holy shit.

Tattoos ornament the entirety of his knuckles and wrist alluding to the beginning of a sleeve that’s covered by the thick material of his jacket. For all you know, he may not be one to approach, yet the tug of your heart is so strong, you try with all your might to make the executive decision to return to the bookstore, but alas, it is too late. Brown irises glance to your frozen figure right when he takes another drag of the cigarette, lifting an eyebrow in evident interest while your jaw drops unintentionally. “I’m-I’m sorry,” you bow in tiny, “I didn’t see you there.” Cringing, you know damn well that you saw him, and he sees right through your little white lie.

“You’re fine,” he replies, studying your expression, tossing the cigarette to the ground to muffle it, “Not the best place for me to smoke, but it’s the least populated area,”

At a loss for words, you nod in response, the guy barely pushing off the wall to stand straighter, the smell of the cigarette lingering. “Well, I guess I’ll be going.” You say under your breath, walking with a mission toward the coffee shop to catch your breath. How in the world can somebody be that attractive? First Jimin, now this guy? Why hadn’t you moved to the city earlier? Uterus, it is not time to ovulate! It is not the time! The ding of the bell alerts your arrival to the staff, and you contemplate your order deciding to try a new flavor of coffee. Surprisingly, it is not nearly as busy as it typically is, so once you retrieve your order and pay, you search for a secluded table to descend into for some form of solitude. And, to recover from the interaction with the guy from the alley. You have never smoked a day in your life, but he made it seem so tempting, which in your case is nowhere near normal, so you shake the strange attraction from your mind as best as you can.

Sipping the hot liquid frequently, your sister has always teased that you delight in drinking coffee in the evenings, but it is your comfort go to especially when you need something to do, or to feel relaxed. The bell of the door echoes prompting the immediate noticing of whoever the customer is that entered. Swallowing abruptly, your heart leaps at the sight of the guy you literally saw fifteen minutes ago in the alley. A creeping blush spreads along your chest soon touching your cheeks to the point you wish you could hide. In a way, you attempt, sinking a smidge in your seat wondering if that will prevent him from noticing your presence.

Nice try.

Between the minimal number of customers and the efficiency of the employees, a tattooed hand linked to a coffee cup slides into the seat across from you, tilting his head curiously when you toss your sight to bask in the glory of his profound attraction. You are in so much trouble. “Hi, again,” you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the quivering of your cold fingers, and to tame the flipping of your ovaries. “Did I scare you enough to make you confront me?”

Smirking a breathy laugh, he takes a swig of his coffee, “I’m not scared of anything.”

“If not fear, what brings you to my table?”

Wetting his bottom lip, you are proud of your feigned courage, but you genuinely are shocked by his sudden presence. Did you leave an inadvertent impression? Quirking an eyebrow, a small smile remains on his lips, “A confession.”

“If it’s sweet talk, I’ll pass.”

Leaning forward to perch his elbows on the table, he folds his hands showing the tattoos you inwardly reveled in earlier, his head poises to the side while he presses his knuckles to his chin casually. “Bold of you to assume I was here to compliment you.”

“Ouch.” You deadpan. “But then again, my mother’s compliments are all that matter to me. Anything you say is irrelevant.”

“Oh,” gradually laying his intertwined fingers onto the table, he challenges with a stare that can make any human being melt into the wooden floor. Fuck. “Then I guess telling you that your shirt is inside out isn’t going to change anything.”

Gasping, your palms fly to your chest where you instantaneously look to see the lines of your t-shirt that clearly expose the fact that you indeed left the house with your shirt on wrong. It is not as embarrassing as one may think, but you were unaware of the food stain dazzling along the side of your boob. Which in this case, makes you blush harder knowing that his eyes may be lingering in an area where no man is welcome currently. But why do you lowkey indulge in the idea of him taking a moment to sweep you up and down? Get a fucking grip, y/n.

“Well,” you sporadically move to position yourself in the seat where the point out will no longer be as obvious, “I appreciate how observant you are, but at least it’s not the worst thing to discover. In public.”

Chuckling under his breath, he shrugs, “I agree. Just figured I’d inform you, otherwise, my intentions are pure.”

Scoffing, you cross your arms again, remaining comfortable in your chair, “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“If I wanted anything, I would have asked already.” He murmurs, “And I always get what I want.”

“Fearless and greedy,” you are vastly grateful that the uterus doesn’t make noises when it’s craving to house an infant, especially with a man as ballsy and gorgeous as the one before you. And why the hell are you even thinking of children at a time like this? Any other male specimen would have made this conversation creepy, but this guy is so alluring that it doesn’t seem to bother you in the least. “What’s your name, Cigs?”

He chokes mid-sip, “That’s a new one.”

“What’s the norm?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Not if it’s sexual.”

“Oooo, then I’ll never tell.”

“Pure, my ass.”

“I never said I was pure, milady, I said my intentions with you were pure.”

Eyeing him questionably, you stifle a jeer, “Not sure if that’s an insult, but I’ll take it.”

Smiling enough to where a glimpse of his teeth is seen, he reaches a hand forward, “I’m Jeongguk.”

“I’m y/n.” Kindly, you take his hand returning the greeting with a grin.

“And I find you extremely striking. I mean that with all sincerity.” Gently, he presses a warm kiss to the back of your knuckles before releasing your clammy hand. “Now go fix your shirt before my OCD destroys me.”

Groaning, your mind wants to focus on the sensation from his lips on your skin, but instead, in mild humiliation, you shake your head kiddingly while you mosey to the restroom. Remembering to bring your purse, you hadn’t realized you left your phone behind on the table next to your drink. Returning, you’re shocked to see that he’s left; your phone and coffee appear untouched, yet you feel the sting of disappointment for you enjoyed the bickering even though some may find it strange. It has been a while since you have been in proximity with a man of such nature, especially one whose features leave an imprint on every crevice of your brain.

The ride home holds nothing but thoughts of the lad who mysteriously approached you at your favorite coffee spot, mostly questions of wonderment of who he is. Jeongguk, sure, but what is his story? Shoving the thought past your mind, you enter your room once you arrive home and feed your cat, slipping into your pajamas and collapsing onto your bed releasing a long sigh. Slamming your palms to your face, the keen chirp of Kenai sounds as he pounces onto the bed, rubbing his head against your cheek until you split your fingers to peer at your cat lovingly. “You have already eaten, you brute. Let me simmer in sadness please.”

Eventually you give in, petting him before you find your eyelids heavily craving slumber. It is the next day when you awaken to sunshine pouring through the blinds casting dancing shadows upon your bedspread. Kenai’s fur tickles your cheek where he has cuddled cozily to you, which is the usual with your cat, and gazing fondly at your furry friend, you blindly pat your desk to grasp your phone to sneak a Snapchat. “Don’t you move, KiKi.” Angling the phone, you take a photo, posting to your story to show off how precious your animal is. You were so lucky when you found your cat. After the devastating blow to the chest a year prior, the first thing you did was visit a shelter not far from Monnie’s house in search of the first animal to win your heart.

In all honesty, they all did, but one look at the small fluff puff, pressing his paws against the glass, meowing for you to notice him was all it took. He purred the moment your hands wrapped around his small body, his cold nose sniffing along your face that was stained with tears. He was the little superhero besides your sister that you needed to find some form of healing. Kenai hasn’t left your side, and he refuses to. You never knew a cat could love you so much, even on the nights you wake up with him sprawled across your trachea. His love may be smothering, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kissing the side of his head, his sleepy eyes remain out the window where birds zip past to distract him. Throwing the covers off you, the number one thing you do is brush your teeth, changing into your work clothes, and tying your hair up out of your vision. Kenai eventually follows you with all the hopes of getting his breakfast which you prepare, and before shuffling into your tennis shoes, you check your phone where your eyes enlarge to the rising beat of your heart.

Jeongguk is typing….

“What the hell?” You mouth. The guy from yesterday added you on Snapchat? How? The only thing you can think is your phone happened to be unlocked unless he was able to open the picture app to scan his Snapchat code. Either way, you are not wanting to admit how pleasantly surprised you are, and when the familiar tone of the Snapchat alerts his official message, you hold yourself back from replying to him too quickly.

It's an exuberantly strange feeling, how giddy one can become all because of a mere message of someone where their interest lies. And the nervous tingles at the bottom of your stomach ignite as you ponder every and any scenario involving the mysterious lad. You have yet to reply, nor do you have any clue what to expect, but you deeply hold nothing but genuine curiosity of how this may play out. Will he be interested in you? Are you ready for someone to be interested in you? That may be the more accurate question. Hoseok hurt you beyond words, but will Jeongguk do the same if you do end up finding him enchanting? What if he doesn’t think you are enough? With all the women in the world, it seems that you can’t hold a guy down enough to seem worth it. Stop it. Wincing, you grit your teeth knowing the negativity needs to end now. Of course, you are enough. You have always been enough, and nobody should make you doubt otherwise. “Anyone who doesn’t see the good in you is at a loss. You are literally the epitome of kindness,” Monnie’s words repeat in your head, uplifting you enough to focus your mind on other matters. Like, preparing your brain cells for the workday ahead.

Finicking with your uniformed red vest, you greet a fellow coworker with a smile, “Good morning, LenLen! Is it five o’clock yet?”

Giggling, LenLen’s face lights up at your question as she finishes folding a pair of jeans to set upon a display. “It is somewhere.”

“Good point,” walking the isles of the store to tidy up the shelves, you can’t help but wonder if it has been long enough since Jeongguk messaged you. Giving it another ten minutes to ensure the coast is clear of customers, you sneak into the breakroom, unlocking your phone to see what he said. You are appalled at yourself for being so consumed in the fact that a guy you just met has taken time out of his day to reach out to you and you wish you could maintain your cool.

‘Dude, your cat looks just like my hellion, Flounder.’

Smiling at what you have read, you click to save the message, so you don’t forget what is being talked about once you exit the snapchat, and you are nearly losing your mind when Jeongguk’s Bitmoji appears a few seconds after you start typing. Uncertain of what else to say, you respond with, ‘Prove it.’ GAH! You grimace, that’s what you have to say? Prove it? Beating yourself up, you forget to breathe the moment the red icon shows that Jeongguk has sent a picture of what you are assuming is his cat. Opening it with the click of your thumb, you are amazed how identical Flounder and Kenai are even considering they could be potential siblings, what a small world right? ‘First off, LOVE the name’, you reply, also realizing you are blushing because also within the picture, a side profile of Jeongguk shows that he is smiling.

Knowing you will have to return to the floor soon, you decide to let Jeongguk send at least one more message before you have to be a responsible adult. ‘Right? It was either Sushi, Tuna, or Sardine, but I thought Flounder would be more fitting and unique. Tetra is my other cat and she’s the worst about stealing my food.’

‘Sounds like Kenai can finally make some friends! And attempt to steal a morsel alongside.’

Typing out the message, you hesitate to send, but with the shared love of felines you honestly feel as though Jeongguk will not overanalyze your reply. Anxious for lunch break, you handle the hours with ease, conversing with LenLen from time to time to figure out who has done what on the chores list. LenLen speaks of a guy that she met recently, with a square jawline and hair as curly as a bowl of ramen noodles, yet his bright smile is what drew her to him. You talk of how happy you are for her and hope for the best, chickening out to tell her about Jeongguk, especially with it being, in your opinion, extremely too soon to mention.

Retrieving your food, you hide away in the breakroom where your eyes immediately glue to your cellular device anticipating whatever Jeongguk has said. ‘Hell yeah, my babies would love that, they do very well with other animals, surprisingly. Hey, sorry I left so soon yesterday, something came up.’

‘It takes a bit for Kenai to warm up, but he will adapt just fine. All he cares about is his stomach being full. No need to apologize, I totally get it.’ Eyebrows furrowed; you can’t help the wonder of what made him leave so soon. Also, you are not one to press further, if he wants to explain himself then he will. Otherwise, you hope that everything is okay with him.

It has only been a few days when you enter the coffee shop again, making it obvious that it indeed is your favorite, and you are shocked the employees don’t know you by name yet. Or so you assume. It is when you see Jeongguk taking a sip of his drink searching for an empty table, your heart leaps as if on cue. You are starting to assume that maybe he is a recent frequenter of this same coffee shop too. Why else have you seen him twice in the span of a few days? You’ve never noticed him here before this week, so now you wonder if he recently moved to the city. His leather jacket hugs his frame as his hair is styled to his liking. You hardly notice the way your mouth waters instinctively and you snap back into focus when you are next in line.

Pretending you didn’t notice Jeongguk, you decide to find a seat a short distance away just in case by some chance he acknowledges you. With coffee in hand, you pick a spot and not even sixty seconds later, you hear the familiar click notification of someone typing on Snapchat. Jittery, which you wish wasn’t so obvious, you carefully reach for your phone seeing: Jeongguk is typing… lighting the screen. Without thinking, you immediately lift your gaze to see him staring at you, a mischievous smirk gracing his pink lips.

Just for his delight, you play along spinning some storybook thought that you two are forbidden lovers hiding from the community by texting instead of speaking to one another in person. Get a grip, y/n, you scold yourself mentally. Opening the message, it reads: may I join you in coffee matrimony?

Shaking your head along with a breathy laugh to his cheesy statement, you respond with a pun, only if you keep me brewing, Tatts!

The creak of his chair echoes as he slides it back. Shyly, you hold his stare, watching him and his thick boots walk to settle into the chair across from you. “Clever,” he muses, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. Strands of his hair fall at the outer corners of his eyes, and you breathe in the faint scent of his cologne. This time, you do not get a whiff of any cigarettes, so you question if he’s even had one today. “If you’re not careful,” he deliberates, “I might have to show you what it’s like to get creamed.”

“Hm.” Arching an eyebrow, you catch on to his game, and if he wasn’t so damn alluring, you wouldn’t even give this conversation another thought with anybody else, “You better hope it tastes as sweet as sugar.” He doesn’t expect you to say that. He may have had women fall hopelessly at his feet, and as much as you feel you might be the next one, you definitely aren’t going to show it. Not right now.

“I hear that the ladies like it steamy.”

“Or iced,” you shrug nonchalantly. Ice play has always been a curiosity of yours, but he doesn’t have to know that. When he doesn’t seem to come up with another pun, you chew the corner of your lip before you lean onto the table yourself, inching as close as you can that the table between you two will allow. “Tell me, Boots, how is it… that a guy with this tough exterior can be so delicately precious about his cats?”

He gestures with his hands. “What can I say? I have to set a good example.”

You harrumph humorously. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He feigns surprise. “You think I am incapable of being a good role model to my children?”

“Oh please. All you have to do is keep their food bowls filled to the brim and you’ve already won dad of the year.”

Jeongguk winks, bringing his hands together to interlace his fingers reminding you of the tattoos you wish you can visualize more. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he smirks.

You have a hard time breaking his gaze, but you clear your throat when it lingers a bit too long. “Anyways,” you attempt to change the subject, “I hope all is well.” You’re really hinting about why he left so suddenly the last time but knowing men do not always pick up on hints, you know you will accept whether he gets what you mean or not.

“Seeing that you put your clothes on right today, my OCD hasn’t been triggered.”

“Happy to see I’ve made a difference in your life.” You playfully sneer.

“It’s the little things that count.”

You feel your uterus squeeze. How the fuck is he so damn attractive for? “I’ll keep that in mind every time I dress.” You say it too quickly without thinking, your cheeks glimmering blood red. He quirks an eyebrow tauntingly.

“I can always help.”

“Nice try, Cigs.”

Except… You want him to try. That itching desire travels through your chest, and you wonder maybe… just maybe, you can get his help. Not necessarily with getting dressed because you swear you are competent to do so, but… maybe he can cure the curse of loneliness, even if it’s just for the moment. You want to deny that you hope it will be much more than just this moment. You can’t explain any of this. Are you trying to impress him?

Uncrossing your ankles underneath the table, you do slide your feet forward taking the tip of your boot to tickle up his leg and you can’t help the smirk that graces your lips when he sucks in a hiss. There’s a tad bit of space on the chair where you place your boot, gracefully taking your other foot to nestle on the other side of his hips. You don’t know what is taking over you, but it’s divine, and now you can’t stop yourself especially with his eyes tempting for you to continue. “I’m gonna need help with more than-”

“How’s it going?”

You jolt, boots slamming to the ground when your wide eyes shoot to see a smiling employee who clearly is going from table to table to check on customers. Stammering, you lick your lips while Jeongguk tries not to laugh in response to your sudden shock. “Goo-good!” You plaster a wide smile while the employee bows swiftly to then waltz to the next table as if they didn’t intrude on your façade to win over this incredibly attractive man across from you. Fuck, you grimace. How embarrassing.

When coffees are finished and downed in clumsy silence, you reach for a stick of gum, offering Jeongguk a piece so you don’t feel so insecure about the coffee breath. He offers to walk you home, but you tell him the bookstore is where you plan to be next. You’re not ready to go home because home is where you will replay the humiliation of what just happened repeatedly. You need a distraction.

Side by side, the pair of you set off down the alley, your nerves still shooting through your limbs while anxiety of what to talk about tackles your brain cells. You’re really trying to forget already, but it’s too fresh to just repress. Maybe there is a sliver of comfort with the silence, but of course, you overthink that as well because when do you not overthink?

You know what? You saw the pleasure in his eyes, there wasn’t a smidge of doubt in his expression when his body responded to you in the coffee shop. Noting that the alley is empty, you take the opportunity. If he wasn’t the slightest bit into you, he wouldn’t be adamant on making sure you arrive to your next location safely. But you need to think fast before you exit the alley. “Cigs!” You blurt. He stops the second you do. The gravel beneath his boots being the last sound you hear before adrenaline takes over.

Your hands grip the front of his leather jacket and when he clues in, as if rehearsed, his large hands grasp your hips, walking you backwards until your back gently bumps against the brick building. His gaze is intense as if preparing you what you are asking for while your mouth parts in yearning for whatever he is about to do. He over towers you, and your eyes never move even when his palms slide to your waist, his shaky exhales leaving his nostrils. His lips are pressed together. When you think he’s about to kiss you, he slams his eyes shut, shifting nothing but his forehead to lean to yours as your eyes flutter closed. Waiting.

Tingles resonate across your skin and the longing is immensely strong, you don’t want to hold back. You hadn’t realized that the back of your hands are against the brick wall as if you have surrendered to him. In a way, you have. The seconds feel like minutes, and when you think he will finally connect with your body, he pulls away. His hands ghost your waist.

For some reason, you keep your eyes closed. His lips then brush warmly to your forehead and with that, you hear the crunch of his footsteps disappearing as he did the first time you met. Your eyes peel open, and it’s like Jeongguk is a figment of your imagination because now:

he’s gone.

-

You never expected to hear from him again, but as days pass, it’s crazy how one person can enrapture the entirety of your thoughts even with the distractions from work because Jeongguk has mastered it for you. And that is how it has been the rest of the week, giddily waiting on his every text and enjoying every bit of the conversations shared between you two as if the sexual tension in the alley never happened. Eagerly, you toss and turn at night due to the cycle of daydreams rehearsing in your mind rent free, but you can’t help yourself, you love to imagine the possibilities of a real adventure with someone you want to spend time with again. If it ever happens.

“You’re glowing.” Monnie’s eyes squint as you grin away to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator for an electrolyte drink.

“I… cleansed my face?”

“No, it’s not that.”

Teasingly scoffing, you take a swig of your drink, “I... am… expecting?”

“Nice try,”

You nearly choke on the second sip, “C’mon, it’s not that impossible. You don’t know my schedule.”

“I know it enough to know that you haven’t missed a birth control shot since you became physically intimate, and that was practically decades ago.”

“You can just say sex you know,” you retaliate, “And for your information, I had sex last year.”

“Yeah, practically decades ago.”

“Fine. Ten or so excruciatingly long years ago, I had sex.”

“So, in conclusion, you are not with child.”

“Yet,” you ploy, letting Monnie glare at you as she slowly steps out of the kitchen. Who are you kidding? You don’t have time for kids, and you know it. Despite what your uterus wants, you do have to find a stable time to want to produce so for now, you shall wait until the time is right. Hence, why you remain on birth control until you know for sure. Otherwise, life goes on as always. Besides… you do recall the last time you had sex. And… it wasn’t with Hoseok. A secret you will take to your grave if you have to. A secret that happened one drunken night weeks after you and Hoseok broke up. And, you never went back hence why it has been a year since you’ve had sex.

You had guilt as if you cheated on Hoseok even though you did not in fact. Either way, you throw the memory into the depths of your mind and try to force yourself to forget how plush the man’s lips felt along your skin. Instead, you replace it with the brief kiss Jeongguk left on your forehead which feels so out of reach.

During the time of messaging back and forth, one evening, Jeongguk offers to call you due to an atrocious event happening at your workplace that you and LenLen got involuntarily involved in. A customer apparently read a sales sign wrong and didn’t realize it until checkout and no matter how much you and your coworker tried explaining things, the customer was not having it which leaves you to call a manager. Overall, it was a situation that unfolded that you honestly wished didn’t hover in your brain cells, but when Jeongguk calls so you can rant, it means the world.

“You are quite attractive and that’s one hundred percent a compliment, and I’m not one to just throw those around to male specimens.” You confess after long conversation. It’s like you moved on from the awkward interactions. Plus, you convince yourself that you came on too strong the last time you saw him.

He snickers on the other line and vividly you imagine his smile, tickling your tummy like the beating wings of multiple butterflies. “Why, thank you. You definitely have my attention, too, ya know.”

“Well…’ You press the knuckle of your thumb to your bottom lip for a second, “That’s very sweet of you to say.”

“And you also deserve to be respected. I’m sorry the customer gave you and your friend such a hard time. If retail is no longer what you want to do, my stepbrother owns a well-known bookstore. I remember you mentioning your love for books at one point and I’m sure he will offer good pay.”

“You would do that for lil’ ole’ me?”

Chuckling lightly, “Anybody with a smart mouth like yours needs a break too.”

“Oh shucks,” though he can’t see it, your cheeks flush a hot shade of red. “Consider me interested! I may give the store some more time since I don’t want to leave LenLen stranded so abruptly, otherwise, I might put in an application just cause.”

“I’ll keep my stepbrother posted.”

You thank him before you decide to head to bed, dazed on cloud nine as you hang up the phone.  

-

It doesn’t matter how busy you are, the second you see the:  Jeongguk is typing…. Notification it’s:

Halt. Stop everything and scramble to unlock the phone screen. Breathe. He is just a guy. He is just a dude with tattoos. Okay, must read message in sixty seconds to not seem desperate. Force yourself to Google search ‘kittens’ to distract your frantic desire to reply immediately to his every text. Does it work? Partially.

So…. I was wondering, would you happen to be off in the next few days? It’s been a minute.

Double take. Eyes enlarged. No way. Inhale. Release. Slowly but clearly, you reread the Snapchat message as if your life depends on it. How long has it been since you two have been messaging back and forth? Maybe a few weeks? But how should you respond? Maybe not as excited so you don’t appear deprived? Or seem super excited so that he knows you are most definitely wanting to meet up? You were super proud of yourself with how contained you stayed when he called you however long ago. Nay, appear neutral. Come across dainty with a sprinkle of bad ass, that’ll get him…. Right? Okay, maybe not.

Funny you ask because I happen to be off today. Send. You squeal internally. You genuinely can’t help how stoked you are in seeing him; the next question is, what is his idea of fun aside from the coffee shop? You are honestly up for anything even if it’s admiring the night sky on a roof with glasses of wine. Or, admiring his tattoos and him explaining the meanings of each one. You have always wanted to get a tattoo yourself but have yet to decide not only what to get but when the right time will be. As with anything, you want the first time to be special. That’s what she said, as you roll your eyes at yourself. Your uterus sure likes to talk, and you really hope you can keep yourself tame once you see him again because a year of no intimacy is already hard enough; and you atrociously hate admitting that you sometimes become lonely for a partner even though healing this past year has been a roller coaster. Even trying to avoid the temptation to reach out… to the last man you entangled with.

Shuddering with guilt, you stroll to the kitchen upon waiting for Jeongguk’s response, and you notice beneath a magnet the card the driver, Jimin, had given you forever ago. The day you met Jeongguk. Carefully shifting it out from under the magnet, an idea does form. Maybe Jeongguk would like to meet you there at the opening. Does he seem like a ‘bar’ type kinda guy? Oh. You wince. What does that even mean? Who doesn’t like a bar setting with a few beers? Plus, it’s been a while since you’ve been to one so why not?

Well today is our lucky day for I happen to have the next 12 hours to find something fun to do. Whaddya say about joining me?

Bring it on, Cigs. You respond and despite the nervous jitters, you type more after the initial message you sent. I actually promised to go to an opening of a new bar that happens to be tonight. If I send the address, would you like to meet me there?

When he asks for the time and where, you send the information. You will get to see him tonight. Now all you can do is panic about what to wear and if you even have anything to wear for the occasion.

Fantastic.

-

Quivering fingers amidst clammy palms slide across the tops of your thighs while you steadily breathe. You, being the early bird that you are, arrive at the bar a few minutes earlier than what you mentioned to Jeongguk. The last you heard from him was when you both finalized the plan. To calm the nerves, you definitely need a drink. A strong one. Your maroon dress clings to your frame the way you like, and you made sure your make up was exactly how you like it to be.. You haven’t felt this confident since you left your ex. And you hope this proves that you never need a man to help you dress.

You ordered a cab to get there so you didn’t have to worry about driving, and you figure if you and Jeongguk still hit it off in person as you do through messaging, then maybe he can make sure you get home safely. So, you hope. Maybe even make up for lost time since the alley.

Sending a quick message to let Jeongguk know you have arrived; your eyes observe your surroundings, and you don’t see him anywhere just yet. Maybe he is stuck in traffic? You wonder. If he is driving, obviously he shouldn’t message you, so you show your ID to the bouncer after standing in line for a few minutes letting the uneasiness settle.

Bodies are scattered among the floor as music blares throughout the building. Laughter and the smell of alcohol is the first thing that comes to your nostrils while your eyes trail for some familiar faces if any happen to be here. Colorful flashing lights wave over the tables, walls, and chairs while people dance continuously, and you really hope despite the overall dim lighting you recognize Jeongguk the second he walks in. Regardless, you search for Jimin since he is the one who invited you, but you haven’t seen him thus far.

Swallowing down the nerves, you squeeze through the crowd until you reach the bar, asking for something strong for you to sip on until Jeongguk arrives. It’s been about ten minutes once your drink is in your hand, and when you check your phone, Jeongguk still hasn’t read the message. You contemplate phoning him, but know it’s too loud to try, so you assure yourself he will be here. You have full confidence that he will call you if he is running late. Which… technically at this point he should have called you by now.

To divert yourself from the sinking feeling, you watch the bustles of people having the time of their lives when a particular human being causes your shoulders to stiffen and your mouth to run dry. Flashbacks of that night flicker in your mind as a weary sense of dread subdues you. The secret you have kept concealed from the world. Stay calm, y/n. Remain. Calm. You hardly remember how you got there, but you noticed how handsome he was, how his hair was loosening from the gel, and his smile put you at ease as you two laughed together. He was drunk, too, but both of you were still aware enough to know what was happening. What was stirring between you two. All you held onto was how he was the first to make you laugh in weeks during that time.

You knew you shouldn’t have been there, but you didn’t care, and you were desperate to feel something. Freshly single and overruled by anger, you let it win. When you kissed him for the first time, he froze, and you pulled away. But he held your eyes, flitting between them without a single word. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you back, and you remember the way his palm felt on your cheek. The way the kisses grew aggressive and emotional as if he felt the guilt from keeping the secret buried from you. Knowing his best friend was in the wrong for what he did to you, but he knew it wasn’t his place to tell you the truth. But boy, had you made it your place to entangle with this guy who was giving into what his emotions were displaying. He wanted you to feel special. It was like his kisses brought an apology you wished your ex would have given you.

So, in a strange yet erotic way, you let it all go with him. Drunken, slovenly kisses until the pair of you started to sober up enough to experiment further. You can’t remember much of the foreplay, but you do, however, remember when he pressed himself into you, riding smoothly as he kissed every inch of your face and your neck. His hands didn’t exactly know where to touch, but his lips did, and that was enough. He moved in you so gently.

When you had awaken the next morning, you laid flat on your back while tears streamed from the corners of your eyes. You don’t know how long you remained there. You don’t know how long you silently cried. But you left before he woke up. You left before you both had to take in account of what you two had done. What you two had shared.

Now here he is in the present.

Kim Namjoon, Hoseok’s best friend, is here, and he spots you almost as immediately as you spot him. Gulping, you do not know what else to do other than spin around immediately and face the bar contemplating to chug every ounce of the alcohol remaining in your glass. Setting your drink down cautiously to not spill the contents, a rear of nausea raises its ugly head. What is Namjoon doing here!? The last time you saw him was the night you would do anything to forget.

Heart hammering, you squeeze your eyes closed. Namjoon may have given you a good night to hold on to for a while a year ago, but it wasn’t anything more than that. It couldn’t be. You were full of anger and a brief desire of revenge, and you were drunk, and you were-

Large hands lean upon the counter of the bar on either side of you as you suck in a breath. You recognize those hands. Those hands are the ones that slid along your body while you pleaded for more. And the countenance of his frame over towers you as you feel the tip of his lips centimeters from your ear kindling goosebumps along your arms. But these hands aren’t the hands you’ve been waiting for. Not one tattoo shows on these hands.

“Long time, no see.” Namjoon says into your ear. Mustering enough courage after steadying yourself, you turn to face him for the first time in a year. His eyes are as filled with longing as they were the night you last saw him. The kind of longing that wonders of how you feel about what occurred. If you still ponder it.

“What are you doing here!?” You say amongst your trembling body. You try to stay firm though you know deep down none of this was Namjoon’s fault. Trying to set your jaw, you take in the way his shirt tugs at his muscles, and the way his hair is gelled to perfection. You have forgotten how beautiful this man is, but Jeongguk. Where the literal fuck is Jeongguk? He is who you want deep down. So where is he? “Never mind that,” you shake your head, realizing he has every right to be here as you do. “What do you want?”

Namjoon’s eyes flicker along your face momentarily before he speaks. The way his dominant gaze holds you in place could drive any woman mad. “To make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh bullshit.” You say through gritted teeth because not only is Namjoon’s proximity bringing unwanted emotions, but it is also bringing the memories of Hoseok. Memories you really have tried not to relive.

Namjoon’s eyes squeeze shut. “y/n, I’m being serious. You fell off the face of the earth since…”

“Since what? Since Hoseok? Or you?” His mouth shuts automatically. “I don’t know what you expect me to say. What happened that night… It was my fault. I know that, but it shouldn’t have happened.” The anger for even saying Hoseok’s name after so long of refusing to is a strange feeling. Namjoon swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and you visibly see the guilt in his eyes because he agrees. Hoseok has been his best friend since they were kids. “How long had you known by the way? About the other girl? Who is she?” He releases a sigh, shaking his head while he tilts his gaze downward in shame. He knows. Of course, he does. He’s refusing to answer the question, but you ask another one anyway. You know it’s too loud to whisper, and from your peripheral, you may have gained a few stares, but you raise your voice just enough for Namjoon to hear. “Does… he know?”

“That we fucked?” Namjoon answers quickly, his eyes locking with yours. “Of course not.” He’s not going to risk losing his friendship is what you are reading between the lines.

“Good.” You refuse to move your gaze. “Keep it that way. Please.” He’s still so close. And you breathe in his scent. Your hand brushes his chest, while your forehead touches to his chin. Both of you share a silent understanding. A pact.

Namjoon is about to say more but you politely shove his arm out of your way ignoring his reach to stop you. You’re scared that you will give in to the thought of him from all these emotions. Whatever he has to say, he can keep it to himself. For now. You need to catch your breath.

Checking your phone, Jeongguk still hasn’t read your message and at this point, you have no idea of where he is or why he even bothered agreeing to show up if he truly had no intentions of seeing you again. Maybe you should have known better. He has the bad boy persona just from his stature, but maybe for once you wanted to believe you could get excited about someone again. Maybe he was the distraction you hoped for and needed, and now that your nerves are shot, and your heart is aching from all the emotions, you’ll do anything at this point to rid of it all.

Regretfully forgetting your drink at the bar and realizing after you move to another section of the place, you happen to see Jimin whose face lights up with recognition. Air escapes your lungs yet again because you forgot how attractive he is too. You notice he has been conversing with none other than Kim Seokjin which makes you want to faint since he is so famous and you have yet to meet a famous person, but for right now, despite the tears wanting to spill down your cheeks from the interaction with Namjoon and the acceptance that Jeongguk will not be showing up after all, you are so thankful that Jimin is making his way towards you. Until your emotions settle, you cannot risk humiliating yourself in front of a celebrity of Seokjin’s status. It would be too much.

Your jaw almost drops though when you catch a sudden glimpse of your coworker LenLen who is snug against a man with fluffy hair a short distance away, and you realize that this must be the man she’s been talking to you about! You tell yourself that you will make sure to say hey to her if you get the chance. It’s about time other conversation is shared that is not related exclusively to work.

“Hey there!” Jimin smiles fully, bringing your muddled mind back to attention. He leans in for a quick hug before pulling away. “You look amazing!”

Blushing, you feel where his fingers stop at your elbows. He has such a kind aura about him that makes you feel safe, so you hope he invites you to hang out, especially since LenLen happens to be in the group Jimin has been socializing with from your quick assumptions. “You look good, too!” You feel like you’re shouting, but you don’t care. You are somewhat relieved to finally have somebody to hang out with no matter how quick it lasts. “How is the opening going? Everything go according to plan?”

“Hell, yeah it has!” Jimin beams. “Taehyung is beyond happy with the results. The line outside is insanity!”

“So happy for you both!” You say, and before you think you may have some form of solace, you wonder where Namjoon is or if he miraculously left, but instead of him, you notice someone else. And you beg the heavens on why you can’t seem to catch a break.

Heart shattering to the floor, your eyes widen, and if Jimin is chatting, you definitely can’t hear him over the loud pounding of your heart in your temples. Is this the real reason Namjoon approached you? That he tried to stop you? To warn you?  

If the forbidden person you are frozen by sees you, you don’t care, you need a reason for his heart to break. Something worse than him finding out that you slept with his best friend if he ever does. Hoseok pauses the moment he sees you standing there; a strange look of confusion dawns him instantly as his eyes look from you to Jimin and back. You can’t help the way your gaze automatically drifts to see if you find her, too. The girl he chose over you, but you do not see a female near him. Not yet. You tell yourself that you never want to know who she is, but there is always that sick vengeance of discovering.

Jimin’s eyebrow arches as he follows your gaze. Whether he knows Hoseok or not, that part is the least of your concerns. Jeongguk stood you up, Namjoon confronted you, and your ex-boyfriend who you loved for three years that relentlessly ripped your heart out of your chest- is here and it is too overwhelming to describe right now the full-blown panic shredding every fiber of your being; the utter disbelief how this shit show of a night has unfolded. You wish you were drunk enough to ignore this inexplainable pain. You wish you had a place to escape to.

But… Maybe Jimin is it. If Jeongguk didn’t want to be, then maybe Jimin will.

Despite his furrowed eyebrows, when Jimin turns just enough to look at you, it’s all it takes. Briskly, you cup his face, pressing a kiss to his cloud-like lips while he stumbles in surprise. Relief floods your quivering frame when he doesn’t even remotely hesitate to kiss you back. His lips are enticingly soft and pure, and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss letting the tip of his tongue brush yours ever so slightly. He tastes of peppermint and booze, and he tastes so good, you get tipsy just off his lips. You move your hands to lock behind his neck while his fingers find a hold on your waist. “Well damn,” he says breathless against your lips while peppering short kisses in between his words. “If I would have known, I would have done this much sooner.”

Gripping loose strands on the back of his head, you lift onto the tips of your toes. “You won’t regret it,” you purr into Jimin’s ear, gaze tauntingly floating to stare right into Hoseok’s, whose eyes widen in enormous shock, before Jimin pins you to his frame as if your clothes are a barrier he wishes didn’t exist. Everywhere is too crowded to really notice the way you two lock lips for majority of the evening. And you are well aware that you two are not the only ones making out.

You know Hoseok is watching every second, probably fuming, probably balling his fists, probably justifying every reason he has to interrupt. You hope he is watching every grip of Jimin’s fingers on your ass, the way his lips suck your neck, or the way he twirls your body under the spotlight if a song he likes comes on. You know the jealousy that’s bubbling beneath Hoseok’s chest is about to erupt. But he also knows better than to intervene between the woman he betrayed and who he is assuming to be her new boyfriend. Because it’s too late. You wouldn’t take him back even if he begged. Because whoever she is out there, she knows what she did to you, too. How she couldn’t even show her face when Hoseok burst onto the porch the day you found out. How her breasts were rounded beneath Hoseok’s shirt. The shirt you painfully remembered was missing when you finally had a moment where your emotions didn’t get the best of you. She had that shirt the entire time.

You hadn’t planned to invite Jimin over. The night drives on and you see that Jeongguk at this point, indeed, read your message, but didn’t bother to respond. Didn’t bother to even make an excuse. To explain why he left you to unintentionally fend for yourself. He could have been here. He could have saved you from tonight if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

You hop into Jimin’s car willingly and he drives you home, kissing you and kissing you while your clothes hit the bedroom floor. Jimin slides on a condom before he pushes into you from behind when your body pins to the wall, him pounding as if to the beat of a song while his teeth dig into your shoulder, into your neck. “Deeper!” You squeal. “Keep going, ah-!”

You do not care about the sounds that have echoed from either of your mouths or the number of positions you two have attempted. You lost count after four. You don’t care that you just met him a few weeks ago. You don’t care how you are going to feel in the morning. Yes, you are aware that you are sober this time. But you want Jimin to keep moving inside you until you forget about your one-night stand with your ex’s best friend. Till you forget about Hoseok’s betrayal that haunts your mind and shreds your heart. Till you forget about the girl who took part in ruining your life. Till you forget about the tattooed man who you hoped would rescue you.

Cigs.

Fuck you, Cigs.

-

The morning comes quickly coupled with a pounding headache while you groggily stretch your arms and legs amidst the tangled bed sheets. You accidentally brush warm skin causing you to jolt upright. Wincing, the pounding in your head worsens, yet you turn just enough to assess that you one hundred percent just hooked up with the hot driver who co-owns a bar and is best friends with a celebrity.

Fuck.

Your palms slap to your face. You weren’t even intoxicated, so how could you let this happen? You may not have been drunk off your ass, but you sure as hell were emotional and that can be equally as dangerous as taking shots of the strongest alcoholic beverage out there. “Shit,” you murmur to yourself, watching the slow fall and rise of Jimin’s breathing. Kenai chirps outside your bedroom door and you realize it is probably past his breakfast time. Slipping out of bed as quietly as you can, you freshen up and brush your teeth. Twice. Just in case if you ultimately decide to continue this rendezvous before you kick Jimin out.

Shuddering, you wonder how loud you might have been last night. And by that you mean, was your sister home? And did she hear the commotion you let out the second you got Jimin alone? If she was home maybe, you could handle that truth. What also concerns you is if Yoongi was home too. You couldn’t bear facing the two of them if they were home while you tackled Jimin like a football player between the sheets.

Oh, when will all this humiliation end!? You want to scream outwardly. It’s been never ending. And, when you start to dress into a nightgown, you finger at the red mark on your shoulder. A reminder of where Jimin had been. And you hate that you like it.

Leaving the bathroom trying to rid the thought, you see Jimin is fully awake and putting on his shirt, his pants already hugging his toned legs. His hair is unkempt from the night before, and it looks cuter that way with his array of colors dyed with the blonde. “Hey there,” he smiles brightly when he sees you. You notice him pop a piece of gum in his mouth which you figure is because he never planned to bring a toothbrush… Because he hadn’t planned to sleep with anybody until you ferociously pounced.

“Hey,” You reply softly, crossing your arms to lean against the door frame of the bathroom. Kenai is still meowing outside the bedroom, frequently pawing at the door.

“Somebody’s pissed.” Jimin chuckles, pointing at the door.

“He’s starving 24/7 and likes to remind me just as often.” You kid, eventually stepping to sit on the bed. You aren’t sure how to feel about last night. But at the same time, should you regret it? The way Jimin’s eyes swept your body, to be honest, you kind of don’t regret it. “How did you sleep?” You try to make small talk to prevent any uneasy friction.

“Wonderfully.” He smiles again. “I hope you did?” He stands, rounding the bed to gently take a seat next to you. The smell of mint from his gum wafting to you tempting you to taste it.

“I did.” You return his smile, leaning in to touch a small kiss to his plush lips. Your headache is starting to dull some which makes you feel better. “Thank you for last night. I had fun.” You lean your forehead against his cheek as he leans back into you.

“I had fun, too.” He says quietly. Taking in a deep breath, he stands as you follow suit. “I better get going. Taehyung has been blowing up my phone wondering where I am. Really, I mean it when I say I had fun. Maybe… we can link up again soon?”

Hand in hand, you lead him to the front door while Kenai excitingly runs his furry body against both of your legs. Giggling, you kiss Jimin some more, “I’d like that.” A couple more kisses and you smile against his lips, “See ya.”

“See ya.” He nods, kissing your cheek one last time before taking off. As much as you wish that your heart would be soaring through the sky: it doesn’t. All your head can seem to obsess over is why Jeongguk stood you up. Was it all a game? Just to get a high that a girl wanted him, just for him to leave her stranded. What gives? In the end, is it really worth the explanation? You are so sick of getting screwed over.

“Who was that?”

“GAH!” You jump causing Kenai to dash wherever he can to hide. Your heart nearly stopped beating and your hand flies to your chest with relief when you see the teasing stare of your sister, Monnie.

“Monnie! For goodness sakes, you scared the fuck out of me!”

“Well!?” Monnie, not missing a beat, bellows. “Who was he!?”

“Nobody.” That is your first response as if you need a defense mechanism.

“Nobody!? With the animalistic sounds I heard last night, you have the absolute nerve to tell me that was nobody!?”

“He’s… He’s a guy I met a few weeks ago,” you try to reply while your heartbeat attempts to calm.

“He is cute,” she coos. “Like smooth like butter cute. Like the butter you slab on a piece of crisp toast cute. He can make anybody feel warm and fuzzy. Girl, I’m telling you right now-”

“Okay, we get it! I know.” You aren’t sure how to cope with the chagrin reddening your cheeks, or the dulling headache on top of it, but you manage somehow. “Please tell me Yoongi isn’t here.”

“Lucky for you he’s at a conference and has been since yesterday afternoon, so he didn’t hear a thing. I was supposed to go but I got-” She mimics what is supposed to be a cough into her hand. “Sick.”

“Oh! You are ridiculous!”

“It’s called, my sister brought home a cute guy for the first time in a decade, and I must hear all about it.”

“Nope!” You say trying to brush past her. “By the way, it’s only been a year.”

“Not anymore-!”

“Gah!” You clap back, slamming your bedroom door, and diving onto your bed, the mattress bounces your body while you scream heavily into a pillow. The scent of Jimin is everywhere in your room still and your sister’s voice keeps rattling on about how she just wants you to be happy and that you deserve to be even though in your heart, you have no idea when that day will come. Eventually you will confide in her about everything, but for now you will bury your face into the pillow and let the tears flow until you fall back asleep.

-

Monnie reluctantly gives you space, but only because she has ‘somewhere to be,’ and she is ‘not going to let you make her late.’ So, she says. You give Kenai an extra bit of food in hopes to win back his forgiveness and you dress out of the nightgown considering another trip to the coffee shop. Your eyes burn slightly from the crying earlier. After last night, you happen to note that you never got Jimin’s number which is probably a good thing so he can avoid the hot mess of thoughts spinning profusely in your mind. Between seeing Namjoon and Hoseok last night and hooking up with Jimin, you can hardly imagine what the two could have said after seeing, not only you, but you sucking faces with another guy. Though it’s nice to have male attention from time to time, you didn’t expect it all to unravel at once.

Some people would make you feel so stupid for your actions while others would praise you for being so bold and independent. You’re single and you can do whatever you want. Are you really mad that you hooked up with Jimin last night? Out of desperation for running into your ex? Or are you more broken about Jeongguk standing you up, and ashamed that you are upset about it when you only have seen him twice?

You can’t help the way you feel. You inhale and exhale deeply. Running from your thoughts is all you want right now.

Entering the coffee shop, you ordered a cab and left a tip because you really despise driving, and here you are in line eventually ordering the same drink you got last time. Why you feel to look for Jeongguk, you wish you didn’t. Training your eyes to focus on what is in front of you- you grip the coffee cup once it’s placed on the counter, and you find a small table in the back away from as many people as you can avoid.

He has his reasons, but you really hope that the reasons weren’t to play with your feelings purposefully. Even though that’s exactly what it looks like. Inwardly, you accept that you probably will never see him again, and you also convince yourself that maybe Jeongguk really was a figment of your imagination. The messages on your phone will say otherwise, but for now, with the hot liquid of your coffee stinging your tongue, you will continue convincing yourself that he is a simple figment of your imagination.  

That thought lasts about thirty minutes, when your coffee is halfway downed and the view of a tatted hand glides upon the table where you feel your throat shrink. No fucking way. You keep your gaze on your coffee cup, the faint smell of a cigarette wafts in your direction and you refuse to look at him. Anger blares inside you. You can tell he is gradually taking the seat across from you because it is pretty evident how rigid you are in response to his presence. He can tell you are annoyed. Maybe even furious.

“Hey…” He forces once he scoots the chair closer to the table. You stay silent. “Look, I-”

“What do you want?” You look up finally. His look is firm, but guilt stricken all at the same time. He presses his lips together. “No, really. Amuse me.” You wave a hand at him. “Was it a one night stand you wanted? Because you could have just asked.”

His eyes enlarge but only slightly. “No. No, that’s definitely not-”

“Then what? What do you want?” You rarely give him a chance to speak before you start gathering your things. To prevent unwanted attention, you toss the coffee cup into the trash can on your way out, Jeongguk on your heels. Marching toward the sidewalk that you can follow back to the city; you huff in exasperation when you feel his hand curl around your arm.

“Let go of me!” You say loudly, thrusting your arm away from him.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay. Just- just let me explain-”

“Oh, go fuck yourself.” You try to walk away.

“y/n. Please.”

You thought you lost your shit last night when you attacked Jimin’s mouth in front of Hoseok. And you thought you lost your shit this morning when you sobbed into your pillow. But this anger and desperation and sadness that you have kept pent up since the day you discovered Hoseok’s infidelity is about to explode. And it’s about to explode in what you know will embarrass you for the rest of your life. Or… it just flat out won’t.

Scoffing, you pause, spinning to face Jeongguk, whose hands raise as if to calm you down, but you are far from calm. “You know what?” You say slowly. “That whole spiel about how I deserve to be respected was a whole load of bullshit wasn’t it?” You step forward making it clear that you aren’t done speaking, and though Jeongguk claimed weeks ago that he wasn’t scared of anything, there is the slightest hint of fear you gather in his eyes though he straightens to let his arms hang loosely at his sides. “I’m starting to think there’s no such thing anymore. First, after three years, with who I thought was the absolute love of my life, three years, he cheats on me with some chick I still to this day do not know who she is or how the fuck they met. So, for unplanned revenge, I fucked his best friend and guess what!?” You throw your hands up, “They both were at the bar last night. Both. Of. Them. How the fuck does that happen!? I move to the city to run away from my problems, and they follow me anyway. They fucking follow me as if I need that reminder. As if I need to relive that heartbreak over and over again. As if I deserve it- to have it thrown in my face.” Running your hands through your hair, you choke back a sob. You refuse to cry in front of this man who is basically a stranger but not really. You don’t notice the remorse showing in his eyes after revealing your limited yet very detailed confession. How he could have easily prevented this.

“I meet you once, and for the first time in a year, I finally know what it’s like to be excited again. To have something to potentially look forward to.” You laugh one syllable. “And yet, I don’t fucking know a single thing about you. Where you’re from, where you work, why you suddenly start coming to this coffee shop when I have never seen you there before, and I keep beating myself up for being so damned hurt about this when you’re a total stranger.” You can’t even look him in the eyes. “And there you are, completely leaving me stranded in a bar when you said you’d fucking be there. Respect, my ass. Have a nice life, Cigs.”

“You do deserve respect.” Oh, why do you pause? “I fucked up last night, okay!? I um…” He trails off, shaking his head as if to rid of whatever he originally was going to say. “Something came up-”

“Is that what it’s going to be every single time!? Something came up!?”

He winces when he acknowledges how bad it seems. “Look I- I know how it sounds. Please. Just let me make it up to you.”

Scanning him from his styled hair to the charcoal color of his boots, the thrilling sense of lust clouds your frame simultaneously to your mouth watering. It takes everything in you not to rush forward and cling onto him as if your life depends on it. But, at the same time, you see a guy who completely ghosted you on a night you may have needed his company most. And, if he was willing to do that to you last night, why wouldn’t he do it again?

The anger is still written all over your face and your demeanor. Sneering, your lips curl.

“No.”

And you stomp off toward whatever destination you hope to find as you did a year ago when you ran from disappointment. You wonder how it feels for him to see you walk away this time.

-

It doesn’t matter the day or the hour. Every time you step foot into the same coffee shop, he’s there. Jeongguk is there. Sitting a table away, keeping his eyes on you. Waiting for you to cave. You have ignored every single message he has sent. Every call he has attempted. Yet, you are also fighting the urge to just be near him. Give him another chance. Maybe it’s the fact that you truly do want to know where he was the night, he stood you up. But is it worth knowing the truth? The only thing you didn’t mention the last time you spoke to Jeongguk was the one night stand you had with Jimin. Not that it was any of Jeongguk’s business, but still. You don’t want to appear like sex with strangers is something you do all the time, because it’s not. And even if it was, it’s nobody’s business but yours.

You decide to walk the city. If he follows you there, then so be it. Compiling your things, you head out onto the sidewalk, letting the breeze nip your skin. The recent memory of LenLen asking about Jimin and you trying your best to answer her questions without blushing replays. She told you about Taehyung and how him and Jimin are best friends which you happened to already know and you relay to her how happy you are that she found Taehyung. You also apologize that you didn’t get to say hello, but she winks at you for she witnessed the reason why.

When you start reaching the city, you hardly can believe the huge sign, flashing upon the tallest building, of Hoseok’s face which roots your feet to the cement while tears spring in response. Cursing under your breath, you realize that one of the books he had been working on back when you two were together must have been released, the one he continuously spoke about. The one inspired from the script he hoped Kim Seokjin would film a movie with. The one that began with you. Which means, if it has become a success, then now you are going to see his face everywhere you turn. And, if the movie is made, that’s even more publicity Hoseok will gain and even more often you will have to see his face. The more hurt you will endure.

“Damnit,” you want to sob. Out of all the places you think to turn, you flee into the bookstore just to almost collide with a book stand filled from top to bottom with Hoseok’s novel. Fret overpowers your system, and you rush out the doors the second you see it, and you figure maybe walking home, no matter the distance, will help clear the stress out of you. Even though you know it won’t. Because at this point, you give up being in public.

You nearly slam into a figure from your rushed state and when the whiff of a cigarette mingled with cologne greets your nose, you know exactly who you’ve run into. “Why are you doing this.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. “Why are you following me, Asshole? Did I not make myself clear?”

“I told you I wanted to make it up to you.”

“And I told you no from what I recall.”

“I have short term memory loss.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Nemo-”

“I’d prefer if you joined me.”

“You really are asking to get smacked.”

“I like it rather rough.”

“And I’d like for you to leave me the hell alone.”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“And why should I?”

His eyes flit between yours, “Because I can’t let it go. I messed up.”

“You don’t deserve my forgiveness if that’s what you’re implying. To be honest, it’s ridiculous that I’m even mad about it to begin with. I don’t even know you.”

“See, but you have every right to be. You should be mad.”

“Okay. Well then accept that I’m pissed at you and move on.”

“I shan’t.”

You could laugh. You almost laugh. But you hold it together because you can’t just let him think he can get away with how he just randomly leaves you stranded. When you both almost kissed in the alley way, you could sense that his desire was as solid as yours. He acted as if he wanted you. So, why did he just walk away? What is the point in pursuing someone who will always walk away?

Shoving past him, you wish you would have driven this go round so a route of escape would be available. But unfortunately, you didn’t think this through. The only place you can think of is the garden center above the bookstore that you have only visited every now and then this past year. What of Hoseok could possibly be up there? A mural? Stalking in the direction of the building, you avoid making eye contact with the huge ad about your ex, and eventually round the store to find the elevator. There are only a few floors before you reach the top and once you elbow the button to awaken the elevator, the last thing you expect is Jeongguk to follow you right in when the large doors slide open. But honestly you should have expected it.

You elbowed the button for the top floor where the smell of flowers waits for you, but you can’t ignore the tension simmering once the doors close. You bite the corner of your lip in agony, the ding of the elevator agonizingly slow. “I know you’re not about to stop and smell the roses, Eyebrow.” Referring to his eyebrow piercing that makes your insides lustfully shiver, you’re shocked he takes all your nicknames so well, but then you remember you’re supposed to be mad at him. “Why can’t you just take a hint?”

His finger presses to your lips, vanishing your words as he seductively shushes you. And he shifts to stand in front of you, his nose dangerously tickling the side of your cheek while your body fights to not react to the arousal forming below. He whispers, “I don’t need a hint to know that you want me just as much as I want you.” Whimpering, your eyes trace his face, the way his jaw curves, the way his eyes set firmly to you with no intention of moving. Did you hear him correctly? Did he just admit that he, in fact, wants you too? “So,” he continues, slipping his finger away from your lips, he brings his mouth to yours while you sigh in pleasure. Fuck. Your body begs for him to close the gap. Begs for him to kiss you. But he doesn’t. Not yet. “I suggest you behave yourself if you want to keep me tame.”

He is doing to you what you did to him that day in the coffee shop making an effort to seduce him. But this time, he is winning more than you are letting on. When the ding of the elevator brings attention to the opening doors, Jeongguk sighs, “We’re not going there.” Reaching back to hit whatever button he chooses; you don’t even move to see. He can take you wherever he wants, and you could smack yourself for conceding.

“What do you mean?” You murmur, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I um,” he tilts his head as if embarrassed. “I live here. So, we’re going to the third floor.”

“Excuse me, what?” Your mind is trying to make the connection how it’s possible that he lives on the third floor of your favorite bookstore smack dab in the city. You’ve heard of people who have homes above the places they own, so… Does that mean Jeongguk owns the bookstore? You thought he said his stepbrother owns it? His hand finds yours when the doors slide open again, showing shelves upon shelves of books with sparse customers quietly reading or viewing the array of covers.

Your brain cells are racing but never reaching a finish line as your eyes frantically scan the hallway the pair of you are entering. You try to appreciate the feel of Jeongguk’s hand holding yours, warm and firm and surprisingly safe though you wish you hadn’t lost the will to fight. Why is it so easy for him to melt your anger away? To melt your sadness? To heighten your senses.

He scans something, you assume a card, before opening a large door, flipping on the lights to show an area of simplicity and barely any furniture to decorate once you step inside. The scent is new as if it has just been built, but you know that is impossible considering this bookstore has been around for years. Automatically, you both kick off your shoes. “My stepbrother used to live here before, so I moved in.” He says as if reading your mind. “That’s why there’s not much here, but there’s enough to keep comfortable.” He gestures toward a sofa awkwardly sitting in the middle of what you assume is the living room and loud meows start echoing the second you see a few cat towers sprawled out. Flounder and Tetra.

“I remember you saying he owns a bookstore… it’s here?” You say in disbelief as the cats come flying to greet you and Jeongguk. How can you be mad anymore when these sweet little fluff puffs are rubbing against your legs, mewing for attention? Jeongguk giggles while he tries to bring back the conversation.  

He shrugs, unintentionally dismissing the sexual tension that concocted in the elevator only seven minutes ago now that the cats are out and about. “He’s an actor now. He took over when his dad retired.”

“…What do you do?” You’re quiet and you don’t mean to be, but you’ve been struggling with mixed emotions for what seems like an eternity. At this point, you accept if this is a dream versus reality.

“Nothing,” he says after a moment, head looking downward. You lick your lips when your eyebrows furrow, but strangely you understand this shame. If your sister didn’t have money, you’d be homeless. Your parents live far away, and in all honesty, you don’t truly talk to them as often as you should. You work part time at a retail store because you can’t seem to get your shit together enough to work full time otherwise, you’d be in the same boat… you’d be doing just that. Nothing. “I used to work as a tattoo artist before I moved here, but um… you may find this hard to believe, but I got my heart broken by someone I fell in love with when I was eighteen.”

“You?” You croak. You mean it to come off as a joke but fail miserably. He finally tilts his head up, softly grinning.

“Yes, a tatted asshole that wears leather and smokes cigs can be capable of falling in love and getting heartbroken instead of causing the heartbreak, Macchiato… Happy?”

Why this vulnerability is happening is unbeknownst to you, but you are very happy that he seems to be opening up. He all but admitted he wants you, too. So, the least he can do is try. Try letting you see past the mystery. Try staying instead of leaving. Saying hello instead of goodbye.

“How long were you two together?” You may have spilled the beans of how long you were with Hoseok, not that Jeongguk knows who he is, but three years is a long time.

“Five years. Found out she cheated on me, too… I lost myself for a long time. Ended up at a different girl’s house every week to numb the pain and never called them back the next day. Became addicted to smoking cigarettes. Went to parties quite a bit… Got drunk, you name it… Moved here with my children the second Jin told me I could. That’s when I finally calmed down and realized, I needed to change before it got worse.”

“I’m so sorry… Sometimes people underestimate the pain of a breakup. Especially if you were with them for such a long time as you were.” It’s quiet a little longer than you mean for it to be, but the similarity of how the two of you got your heart broken is an odd coincidence. But then you gasp when a lightbulb clicks. “Jin!? As in, Seokjin?”

“Yeah?” He says unhurriedly. “Is that hard for you to believe?”

“What? No! I’m just- the Kim Seokjin is your stepbrother? He owns this bookstore?”

“Well yeah, he’s the reason the bills are paid for now until I, myself, can get my shit together.”

You know the concentration it takes to complete a puzzle? Well, this is one of those times. Randomly, you wonder. Does Jeongguk know Jimin since Seokjin knows Jimin?

“Do you know who Jimin is?” You spit out. How are all these male specimens connected? Either way, you are definitely not telling Jeongguk about the rendezvous with Jimin that’s for sure.

His eyebrows scrunch and you visibly witness the way his shoulders rigidify as if he knows exactly who you are talking about. “How do you know Jimin?”

“No reason, just wondering. I saw him hanging out with Seokjin at the bar you failed to show up to.”

“Hm.” He hums once. “Interesting.”

“He co-owns the bar with a guy named Taehyung…  My co-worker is dating him. Taehyung, I mean.” You’re having a hard time reading Jeongguk’s expression, but he attempts to not be so uptight.

“Did you… See anybody else there?”

His question hits you by surprise, but you know there is no way he could be referring to Hoseok and Namjoon… Could he? No, of course not. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t know who your ex is specifically. You may have mentioned your ex and your ex’s best friend were at the bar, but you had never given any names. It’s as if Jeongguk is asking solely about someone else… But who?

Pushing your fingertips to your forehead, you release an exasperated sigh. “Can I use your restroom?” You need a moment to yourself. All this unwanted ‘solving’ isn’t getting you anywhere. And why is Jeongguk being so weird about Jimin? He doesn’t know about the hook up and Jeongguk is also not your boyfriend, so why does it matter?

“Yeah, this way,” he points in the direction of what you assume is his bedroom. “On the right.”

The door gently clicks behind you while your palms cling onto the counter when you’re securely within the bathroom. It’s huge. You can tell it’s spacious by the fact you can breathe amidst the anxiety. A jacuzzi and a walk-in shower, a door that you are confident is a towel closet is what you take in once you twirl around. It’s beautiful and so clean, it’s as if nobody has inhabited it in a long time. Either way, you don’t want to take too long, so you pull out a small bottle of mouth wash and complete a brisk breathing exercise before filing out into Jeongguk’s bedroom.

You hadn’t taken time to notice how large his bed is either. The covers are invitingly dark, and you can tell from the curtains that are slightly split show the windows to a magnificent view of the city. Whoever Seokjin’s dad had to construct this place was an absolute genius. A home inside a bookstore, that would be a dream come true for millions.

You brace yourself when you step into the living room, and you notice Jeongguk is preparing wine glasses, a bottle of red is in his hand as he begins to pour the crimson liquid. His cats are munching on some food that he put to keep them occupied. You can tell by his body language that he is going to change the subject regarding Jimin. “How did you know?” You say ultimately when you pull out a stool in front of the counter.

“Nothing a good bit of wine can’t fix.” He winks. “Plus, I figured it will calm the nerves, so we can actually… talk.”

You nod reluctantly, fingers pressing beneath the glass before you take a slow sip. The taste is sour with the mouth wash, but you know after a few sips that will change. A wave of calm floods your chest and limbs once you swallow. “Thank you.” You murmur. He leans on the counter instead of moving to take a seat next to you. He can’t take his eyes off you, and he can’t even explain how just being around you makes him feel. You bring a comfort he hasn’t had in a long time. He knows he has gone about it the wrong way, but he is determined to not let you go this time. No matter how much his ex keeps trying to reach out to win him back. He wants you.

“I’m really sorry about the bar.” He manages to say. He’s not the best with apologies, but he knows you deserve one. “That was really fucked up. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No… You shouldn’t have.” You’re honest because you know what it’s like to be betrayed. Jeongguk of all people should get it too after admitting that he has been cheated on before as you have. You must stand your ground regardless of how weak he secretly makes you because no, this specific situation may not be seen as a betrayal, but it was not okay that he left you there alone. He does, however, want to confess everything, of why he didn’t show up. But something keeps telling him that it’s too soon. When he’s ready, he plans to tell you. But for now, he wants to prove to you that he’s not going anywhere this time.

“I know,” he murmurs.

Taking a longer sip of the wine, you rub at your eyes. “He really did some damage…” You admit, appreciating how easy it is for the pair of you to start opening up. This is something you have battled to talk about since the day you witnessed it. “I mean three years of my life I gave to this guy, and he just…” You throw your hand up. “He just throws every bit of it down the drain. There wasn’t even the slightest red flag. I came home. Heard them in the bedroom… Our bedroom. And I just-” You didn’t want to cry, but the tears greet you with the burn of your nose. “I just left. I don’t even know how long it had been going on. All I know is I blocked him on everything and refuse to give him the time of day. Because I can’t bring myself to face him. Or the pain of it all.” Jeongguk listens contently, sorrow filling his umber eyes. “When I saw him at the bar for the first time in a year, the anger that filled me at first, I wanted to do anything to make him feel the same devastation I felt that day. Sure, I slept with his best friend weeks after the breakup, but he doesn’t know that. And, as much as I want to say the revenge was satisfying… It wasn’t.” You tap your fingers on the counter. “Now I’m here. I’m here in this city, living with my rich sister, and working a part time job. It’s like I want to live in my misery… At least, I have my cat.” You smile, Kenai’s sweet face bringing you peace.

“It takes a long time to move on from something like that. What happened to me was nearly two years ago and it still hurts.” Jeongguk says because he knows exactly how that feels. He still succumbed to his ex’s every beck and call until he met you. That’s when everything started changing for him. Why he couldn’t think straight. When his ex was trying to distract him, his mind was filled with you. “I saw the guy she was cheating with once. I planned to confront him, but… chickened out. I knew if I wasn’t careful, I’d do something I’d regret.”

“Who was he?” You ask. Jeongguk raises his shoulders, pursing his lips.

“I don’t know his name. Just that Seokjin was working on a movie, happened to meet the guy and my girlfriend at the time was with him. Jin put two and two together and called me right after. He recognized her in some of the pictures I posted on social media before I deleted it all.”

“He’s an actor, too? The guy she was with?” You wonder.

“I’m assuming.” He speaks. “She never really met Jin before. Or at least, I never told her specifically that he was my stepbrother. That was a part of my life I tried to keep distant, but when he called me concerned, I knew why she was coming home so late. Or, why she didn’t panic if she knew Jin was my brother who was seeing her in the flesh with another dude.” Jeongguk wets his lips. “And that’s when he tried to help me cope by giving me his apartment here when he saw how far gone, I had gotten. And that’s why she learned to do research on who I’m connected to because apparently me and Seokjin know everybody due to his fame and fortune.” He means the fame and fortune as a joke, but you still ponder.

“So…” Your expression confused. “If that’s the case, how do you know Jimin?”

Jeongguk swallows roughly, “I asked you first.”

Now, it’s your turn to gulp. “About that.” The stool screeches from under you as you immediately stand, chugging every last drop of your wine before you clutch your things to your side. The indent Jimin left on your shoulder has faded some, but it still befuddles you knowing Jeongguk could clue in if he wanted to. “I-I have to go.” You really don’t, but the way your entire body is flushing, and your eyes are wide with panic. What else are you supposed to do? Running is what you do best. As if a lightbulb goes off, Jeongguk’s laugh reverberates behind you.

“Wait a minute, have you banged him?” Halt. You choke completely on your own spit; your trachea insults you while you cough up a storm. Goodness gracious. Why this? Why now? “You totally banged him didn’t you!? Holy shit.”

“So, what if I have?” You stifle another cough whirling to face him. “What the hell are you going to do about it?”

That’s when the air between you two immediately silences as if you gave him the challenge of a lifetime. Not even Tetra or Flounder are around to fill in the void. It’s as if you both are back in the elevator where the temptation became so alive, it was hard to ignore. It was irresistible. The only sound is your breathing as it increases after Jeongguk’s wine glass clinks against the counter. There’s a prolonged few seconds before it all becomes thunderous.  He makes his way to you as your purse slips from your quivering arm. Your breathing stops. His fingertips press to touch to the skin of your chest as he tickles circles. His eyes flit from your parting lips to the way your eyes start to show you’re imploring for him to not stop. He taunts you. Edging so close to you, his lips are barely on yours when he whispers, “I’m going to make you forget he exists.”

This time, you’re not letting him walk away from you. Not again. Not ever. Your palm finds itself gripping his shirt while you close the gap. The millisecond Jeongguk’s lips connect with yours, it’s electrifying. It’s as if somebody injected fireworks into your veins, shooting across your skin and awakening your senses ten times the normal, exploding across your mind, body, and soul. Your heart pounds so loud, you’re shocked if he doesn’t hear it. You’ve been with three other guys sexually prior to Jeongguk, but something about this is mystifying. Powerful.

His mouth moves with yours as you gasp into his kiss, letting him guide you until the back of your legs recognizes the arm of the sofa. His hand moves to tangle into your hair while you deepen the kiss, the tip of his tongue finding yours as he caresses it simultaneously taking his free hand to slip into the front of your pants, but you’re not ready for him to pleasure you yet. You want to show him what he will miss out on if he doesn’t choose you in the end. But you weaken when his heated lips press slowly and gently along your jawline, the arousal you feel drips, his fingers sliding further to slip past your underwear until he runs his fingertips up and down your heat.

“Oh,” he moans with a slight growl burying his face into your neck from how drenched you already are for him. “Holy fuck,” he hisses, trying to keep himself tame. You love the sound of his fingers sloshing up and down against you. But you want it to be you on him.

Shoving him back to give you some space, his hand flies from your pants and he watches you not expecting you to kneel. And not expecting you to fumble undoing his belt, tugging it out of his belt loops, he hisses in response to the point you see his bulge prominently inside his pants. Oh, the way your mouth waters instinctively at the sight of his erection.

Unbuttoning his pants, you yank them down to his ankles, releasing his erection from his underwear where you hum pleasurably at his girth. Your hands run along his thighs seductively; his eyes darken with lust as you connect with them naughtily. Your palm then slides around his length, stroking him agonizingly slow before you take him into your mouth. Letting his precum welcome your taste buds before you hollow your cheeks, the warm skin of his being ignites your arousal even more. His large hand moves to the top of your head where your strands tangle between his tatted fingers. That’s when you begin, bobbing back and forth as speedily as you can, basking in his moans at how amazing you feel. Your hands cling to the bottom of his jacket while you continue your bliss eventually releasing him from your mouth to push him onto the couch where his back plops upon the cushions.

You push his shirt up to visualize his toned abdomen before dipping down to continue sucking, moving your other hand to massage his scrotum, giving him every bit of pleasure, you can to make him crave you. To make him pine for you. Another trick is up your sleeve when your hand returns to his being, following up and down with your mouth while he tries every way not to cum before he gets the chance to pleasure you more. “Holy fuck,” He groans in satisfaction which makes you continue your fun.

Your tongue laps around his tip before you wipe the spittle at the corners of your lips away. When you’re about to continue, he raises, pulling you to his mouth as he kisses you more, becoming hungrier as he shifts you closer. You can tell your clothes are getting in his way for when he pauses, dazed, his hands start to tug at your pants, eventually freeing you from them as you help kick them off. The air in the apartment is colder than you realize. Goosebumps start flying down your legs as you try to regain your focus on removing the articles of clothing off Jeongguk’s top half. Eventually, all linens are plopped onto the floor and your naked bodies are starting to feel every inch of warm skin, captivating every sense, every cell, every emotion, every lustful bliss.

He pauses and you realize his fingertips have paused at the fading spot on your shoulder. The place where Jimin’s teeth sank in. Holding your breath, you see the guilt in Jeongguk’s eyes as his lips become ajar as if he wishes that it could have been him instead. You aren’t sure how to read what he is thinking, especially when he runs the tip of his thumb over the area. But, in the heat of the moment, his other hand slides to the back of your neck where he slightly grips the strands of your hair stimulating you to bite your lip. He tilts your head just enough to cover the spot with his own mouth, sucking harshly on the skin to place his mark. To regain his status. You’ve never seen something so hot, it’s sending immense tingles all through out your frame. He then sprinkles kisses across your chest eventually trailing to your breasts where his tongue flicks over your nipples and the top of his head tickles your chin. Your whimpers increase while he sucks each nipple tenderly, your fingers indenting his back, and the way your vaginal walls leak onto your vulva- you cannot wait for more of this man. Your eyes sweep his figure. His tattoos covering the entirety of his arm.

Goodness, his body is ethereal, and from the way he takes in the view of you bare, you can tell he feels the exact same about you. Your lips tingle for his. Dragging him to you, he crashes his lips to yours, a new addiction you both know will be hard to break. The way his body presses to yours so passionately, it’s as if you have waited your whole life to feel this good. You can still feel the way his lips bruised you on your shoulder, and you adore the way it lingers.

“My turn!” His fingers deliciously dig into your hips, he slides you closer to him despite the limited room on the sofa, and his eyes absorb how sopping wet you are for him even still. He traces his hands to your thighs when you feel your heat clenching fervently for the desire that is taking over your system. Jeongguk wastes no time swiping a finger, sucking your leakage before his tongue starts lapping up every bit of your taste. What really catches you by surprise is how he continues the fast movements, flattening and pointing his tongue seeing which gesture makes you scream for him more. In between, he sucks your clit, taking one hand to reach for the spot above your clit where he massages nice and slow simultaneously while he feasts. “Oh, Guk,” you sigh with elation. “Oh, Guk, yes! Oh my gosh, yes, holy fuck, ah-”

You hardly can contain yourself with how this man is loving your body. He refuses to stop until you feel the powerful jolt of an orgasm, gratifyingly overwhelming your brain as your thighs squeeze together. Jeongguk already pulled away with pure ecstasy of watching you come undone for him. You are so dizzy; you can’t help the way your feet sink into the couch trying to overcome the sensitivity. When you try to shift, to sit up, Jeongguk hovers close to where he whispers, the smell of you reaching your nose.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before carefully lifting his body off you. His hands slide along your arms as he tenderly guides you. Before you can question, he interrupts by kissing you again. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got a couple things I want to set up.” As much as you hate to admit it, your heat drips at the way he whispers this to you intensifying the elation. How many times does he plan to make you cum?

The anticipation as to what he’s about to do. What he’s about to show you. Your ears tune into the sounds of the refrigerator opening- his giddy footsteps jogging to the bedroom where you hear the start of running water. Not just a spritz from the shower… the jacuzzi. Holy fuck. When you thought of steamy sex, you never once thought about the jacuzzi. Your hands squeeze into your thighs, the sensitivity between your legs starting to dim. Your heat clenching around nothing as you feel your nipples bud against the chilled air now that his warm body hasn’t been wrapped around yours for a bit. You never really ventured with sex when you were with Hoseok. It was just the typical quickies before and after work depending on the mood with the occasional use of a vibrator. And with Namjoon, it was a drunken blur. With Jimin… It was just spicy vanilla with addictive kisses, but good enough to get the job done and not hesitate for a second round if there ever was to be a second round.

But with Jeongguk. He’s about to give you a night you hope to relive every moment you see him. When he steps into the living room after a few minutes, you had been biting your lip unintentionally, and you feel him kneeling when his tepid hands place on your knees to then gliding up your exposed thighs. He loves teasing you with his lips, talking against them to keep you on your toes. “I’m ready.” He whispers enticingly. You peel your eyes open, him holding your hands while he helps you stand.

When you enter behind him to his bedroom, you notice a golden bowl filled with ice cubes and bubbles from the jacuzzi mingled with steam is shown from where the bathroom door is open. “I didn’t know to buy rose petals and candles-”

“Oh, fuck that!” You gasp, grabbing his face to kiss him again and again. The excitement is so tremendous, his strong arms adhere you to his frame before he peppers kisses along your neck, sucking the skin before placing your back on his bed. Lifting your hands in surrender, he can have you however he wants. However, he needs you. His eyes trail to the ice cubes where he places one in his mouth taking a few long sucks. When you imagined ice play, you never thought you would actually get to experience it.

He then takes the ice and places it on your chest, the cold nips your skin in a pleasurable way and when he slides the cube onto one nipple then to the other, your shaky breaths echo within his bedroom. He then lets the cube glide downwards once your nipples stay budded till he pauses at the beginning of your vulva. “Do you want me, baby?”

“Yes!” You’re breathless, toes curling against the bed sheets, the cold of the frozen water bringing a subtle pain. “Yes, baby, please. I want you.” He lets the ice touch along your slit, causing your hips to rise involuntarily while he rubs it quickly, coating your heat with the chill. Just enough to absorb your taste. As you watch him intensely, he returns the cube to his mouth sucking more until he places it back into the bowl.

Without preparation, his hands, few fingertips cold, wrap around your thighs, shifting you to his starving mouth as he breathes in your scent. “You smell so good, baby.” He growls, his hair tickling your skin before his tongue starts to flick between your folds once more, the chill feel sending vibrations of desire up and down your body while you moan his name even higher than his previous feast. “Oh, Guk! Oh, baby! Holy fuck, you feel so good! Ah!” Your screams encourage him to flick faster, up and down his tongue presses, lapping up your juices while your hands dig into the comforter. Eyes rolling back, one by one, each of his hands reach to rub your nipples, rubbing so fondly while he licks you, making your arousal build even stronger, so intense, you can hardly breathe. His head makes swift movements while he continues to taste you furiously, not taking one moment to breathe himself. You feel another orgasm building, and before you can stop him, your hips buck to the amplifying sensation as the glint of you shines on his chin. He arches an eyebrow proudly as you melt against the comforter- completely and utterly gasping.

But he’s not done with you yet and you don’t want him to be.

He crawls onto the bed to hover above you, interlacing his fingers with yours that happen to untangle from squeezing the comforter. Still holding your hands, he then moves backwards, helping you up to lead you to the bathroom where he shuts the door behind him. Wherever he goes, you will follow. And so far, you are not regretting one bit.

The steam is still rising from the jacuzzi and when he pins you to the tub, he leans over you to press a button, the jets in the jacuzzi awaken and the entire bath is bubbling for you to enjoy. You smell yourself on his mouth, and when he kisses you again, this time it’s so loving. It’s soft. So mesmerizing, you can’t concentrate on anything else as his hands cup your breasts, rubbing your nipples so affectionately that your heat gushes below you as you moan helplessly against his mouth.

“Get in.” He demands and this newfound dominance is going to make you pounce. You tilt your head when you meet his knowing eyes.

“You first, Cigs.” His nose scrunching into the sweetest smile, you dizzyingly watch him step into the jacuzzi, letting the water engulf his frame before you find yourself joining, putting a leg on either side of his hips while you straddle him. His hands massage up and down your back slowly to gripping your ass. How much more stunning can this man be? When he said he was going to make you forget about the past, he wasn’t fucking kidding. And you are very much okay with that.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers suddenly and your heart swells at his words. Not only did he mean it, but you can feel how much he means it. It doesn’t take long for you to bring your lips to his after holding his gaze, eventually moving a hand to find his erection, posing above his length before he enters you causing you to gasp against his kiss before your body starts to move to the rhythm of his hips as he thrusts into you. The water splashes amidst your moans, him hitting your g-spot with every stroke.

Lips still locked to yours, Jeongguk wraps his arms around you before lifting you enough to lay your back against the other end of the jacuzzi. Water covers your body while the jets massage your skin as Jeongguk lingers above you, entering you once more, your arms hug behind his shoulders while he thrusts. His body molds so perfectly with yours, and you never felt so alive. His large hand moves to cradle the back of your head, kissing you so deeply that your head is spinning. You never want this to end. How he moves so beautifully within you. It’s enthralling. He is enthralling.

When he releases into you, the water washes him away, and he sighs into your neck while you two try to catch a breath.

“By the way, it’s Dory.”

Confusion hits you at his sudden, breathless remark. “What?”

“You called me Nemo. It’s supposed to be Dory. She has short term memory loss.”

Shoving him playfully, you splash water at him while giggles echo, him tackling you just to place kisses to your blushing face. You can’t imagine ever losing him at this point. For once, you feel promise even though a promise has never been made.

-

“You’re smiling.” Monnie says suspiciously as you dazingly exit your room.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It certainly is not. It’s about time you appreciate your life here.”

“I do appreciate it here.”

“Finally… Is it the blonde guy?”

Your eyes widen because you completely forgot that your sister has no idea about Jeongguk. “No!” You say quickly. “No, it’s not him.”

“Okay,” Monnie says slowly, placing her hands on her hips. “Well, something is making you act like a teenager, so spill it.”

“I will at some point just… Just not right now.”

Monnie groans in annoyance. “I don’t know what I have to do to get you to talk to me, but at some point, I need to know your life story.”

“But you do know most of it. We’re sisters, Genius.”

“The boring stuff. I want to hear the dirt. I’m nosy.”

“You wouldn’t be my sister if you weren’t.” You tease. “I will tell you everything when I am ready. It’s… a lot… Okay?”

Reluctantly, her arms loosen in defeat as she rolls her eyes, “Fine,” she drones.

To be honest, you hope to confide in LenLen as well. It’s about time you open to the people who you do trust very much. For the time being though, it’s been a few days since you last saw Jeongguk and he has been messaging you nonstop since then. You felt so bruised down there, especially when you both had intercourse the next morning before you left to go to work. Both were naked and finished brushing teeth, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. Your breasts smooshed to his back. He couldn’t resist you after that. He lifted you up to where your legs linked around his body. The sex started rough once you reached his bed sheets but ended gently driving your mind wild. His touch is like lightning and he nearly cummed back-to-back when he saw a wet spot under you from where you released post orgasm.

You do plan to see him again, and despite the endless thoughts of him, you figure a nice walk around downtown is a good plan. Downtown is super close to the city but has a smaller string of stores. It’s a different scenery, something to keep your mind from cluttering. It’s been a few months. You don’t go as often because that’s where Hoseok would take you on special dates. You figure with his popularity rising from his newly released book, he may not be downtown as often, so you feel it’s safe to tread.

Goodness though, the way Jeongguk’s touch has encapsulated you into another dimension, you can’t stop thinking about him. Or his lips. Or his smile. Or his laugh. Or his tattoos, how beautifully they decorate his skin. The way he holds you… He’s a dream you hope to always have. Hands cuddled into your jacket pockets, the sun shining brightly in the sky, twenty minutes into entering downtown where cars slowly drive by and the ‘open’ signs flash on every window, you decide to enter one of the familiar shops you happened to pass. Life gets even stranger because when you enter what looks to be a beauty boutique, from the colors and setting you recognize it as one you and Hoseok used to frequent way back when.

“She had me come double check inventory. Just make sure we get more of the eye shadow palettes in. At least, that’s what she requested me to say.” Eyebrows scrunching, you have heard this voice before. It’s oddly quiet other than a radio playing, and your eyes trail to an employee nodding and scribbling down whatever was said. Your heart nearly stops when you see none other than Jimin talking to the employee after shifting through what looks to be a pile of mail. You debate running out of the store, but you never got Jimin’s number, and so you make it clear you really didn’t use him even though you kinda did accidentally on purpose, you make the haste decision to let him notice you. He hasn’t done anything wrong.

He spins around after checking over a few things and looks up at you when you clear your throat. The moment his eyes register who he is seeing, his face lights up. “Oh my gosh! Hey there!” Jimin out stretches his arms, pulling you into such a sweet embrace when he reaches you, and you can’t help but let the relief loosen your tense frame. You melt into him.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“How are you?” He pulls away slightly to read your eyes.

“I’m good… I’m sorry I never thought to get your number.”

“No! No, don’t apologize. I should be sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m that kinda guy.”

“Oh God, no.” You chuckle. “You are just fine.”

Jimin presses his lips together in concentration, his thumb rubbing your shoulder. “My sister had me check up on her store which is why I’m here.” He motions to his surroundings. “With the stress of inventory, I could use a drink. Wanna join?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” You say.

 -

When the strong liquid welcomes your tongue soothing your limbs once you swallow, Jimin eyes you as you twirl the liquid in the glass. The restaurant is nice and dimly lit and you are very thankful that you ran into him when you did. It makes you feel better about what happened between you two.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” You say after a minute. Not that you ever cared to ask. “I didn’t know she owned a store.”

Jimin smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, she’s a pain in my ass but I love her.”

“I relate on so many levels.” You chuckle, knowing Monnie would give you a look that could kill with an arched eyebrow in tow.

“Is… everything okay between us?” Jimin is curiously watching you, his expression still concerned about everything. At this point, you both have swapped numbers, promising to keep in touch. With how much your heart pines for Jeongguk, you know you won’t give in to anyone else.

“Of course, it is.” You promise. “I really mean it when I say I enjoyed your company. I just have a lot going on.”

“I understand.” He says meaningfully. “Want to talk about it?”

Considering your answer, you swallow briefly. “My ex… of three years cheated on me. Moved here a year ago.” You continue explaining how you ended up with your sister and how you were heartbroken about being stood up at the bar and how you ran into your ex and his best friend at the bar as well. All in one night. Adding that you are glad Jimin was equally attracted to you and how the distraction really helped overall.  

“Holy shit, you slept with his best friend!? You are bad ass!”

“Oh God, I’m far from it.”

“Dude, no, that’s the best way to get back at a cheater. I’m telling you. Oh, and um,” Jimin leans closer to you with a confident look, his thick lips poised in a mischievous grin, “I don’t mind you using me for whatever you want. I’m honored I got to be your first after a year of abstinence.”

You giggle, smacking his shoulder playfully. “To be honest, I’m glad it was you too. You are so sweet. I mean it. If anything, I hope we can be friends.” You reach to squeeze his hand, him running his thumb across your knuckles.

“Agreed.”

“How long ago did you and your sister move here?” You wonder aloud. “I remember you said you had been here for a long while.”

“About two years, but I am roommates with Taehyung for now. He’s pretty head over heels for his girlfriend so I’ll probably be living on my own soon.”

“That’s not bad at all,” you encourage.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure I’ll love the space, but it gets lonely sometimes… My sister lives with her current boyfriend. I’m not the biggest fan, but he’s a successful novelist. Came out with a book literally like last week.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. What? “He’s… an author?”

“Yeah… I mean he’s a good writer don’t get me wrong, but her last boyfriend… She was with him forever and she did him so dirty. I felt bad for the kid.”

“Wait a minute…” Your head is spinning. This can’t be real. Calm down, y/n, it’s all just a coincidence. You are freaking out over nothing. “Wh-who was her ex-boyfriend if you don’t mind me asking?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but his phone, that has been laying right side up on the table starts to vibrate, a picture of a smiling woman shows. “Oh, that’s my sister.” He says, “Probably calling to make sure I took care of inventory. I should take this.”

“I- I have to go anyway,” you pretend to check your wrist when really stars are showing in your eyes, because that picture. Your mouth goes immediately dry. The shirt. The way her breasts are rounded beneath that shirt. Hoseok’s shirt. The shirt that went missing. The girl in the picture… she was wearing it. She was fucking wearing it.

“Hey, Min-a.” Jimin greets into the phone, waving goodbye to you, mouthing that he will text you as you dart away. Bile rises to your esophagus burning in its wake as you rush outside to the nearest trash can. Holy shit. You can’t breathe and you gasp between heaves. Everything is crashing down as you make the connection. It’s all coming together.

You never saw her face, but you saw her torso decorated with nice breasts and Hoseok’s shirt. Jeongguk mentioned that he was cheated on too and that she was with her new boyfriend who was going over a script with an actor… His stepbrother who is none other than Kim Seokjin. Hoseok has been writing for an actor who happens to be Kim Seokjin. Jimin personally knows Kim Seokjin. Hoseok is now out with a novel. She, Jimin’s sister, owns a store downtown, a store that happens to be one that you and Hoseok used to frequent because you loved their products, but when you left him, you never went back to that specific store. Meaning… he met her there. While you two were still together. But most of all, you remember how tense Jeongguk got at the mention of Jimin… Because Jeongguk knows Jimin. And then there was the confrontation Jeongguk almost had with the guy his ex-girlfriend cheated on him with who you can’t seem to comprehend it to be:

Hoseok.

This can’t be real. No, no this can’t be fucking real. You plead to the universe, wiping your lips with your sleeve as you try to keep the next bout of nausea suppressed.

Jeongguk dated Jimin’s sister who is now with Hoseok. The girl who he cheated on you with. You heard Jimin say her name. You can hardly collect your thoughts to think her name.

Min-a.

When the nausea starts to dull just for you to regain your composure. You run. You run home and you don’t stop until you burst through the door. Monnie and Yoongi are frantic when they see you, collapsing to the floor to catch your breath while tears stream down your face, sobbing as the pain shoots through your heart. Now, you have your answer. Nobody had to tell you. You accidentally stumbled upon it yourself. At this point, seeing the devastation pouring down your face, Monnie doesn’t give you a choice, she demands the truth. As Kenai rushes to sway his furry body against your legs to calm you, you confess and tell your sister and her boyfriend everything. From beginning to end- everything.

Finally, you let every emotion out, every secret released.

-

“So, you are saying that not only did you sleep with your ex’s best friend, Namjoon. You also hooked up with your ex’s new girl’s brother and her ex-boyfriend, too!?” Monnie connecting the dots while Yoongi’s mouth drops open in alarm. “Holy cannoli, if this isn’t the best revenge story ever!”

“I wasn’t looking for revenge!” You spew.

“Not with Jimin and Jeongguk you weren’t, but you have to admit, Namjoon was definitely revenge.”

“Well Namjoon, yes.” You agree with swollen eyes. “But the rest? I had absolutely no idea they were connected.” Your palm is plastered to your forehead, and though Jeongguk has messaged you and called twice, you’ve ignored everything. You don’t know how to approach the subject. Is his ex, Min-a, who is Hoseok’s girlfriend that he left you for, is she the reason Jeongguk kept walking away from you? Why he struggled at first giving into you? Have her and Hoseok been having problems? “No wonder why Hoseok was so… shocked.” You murmur. “I thought it was because I was kissing another guy in general, but it was his girlfriend’s brother.”

“Wowza.” Yoongi shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t comprehend it. What a small world.”

“Now it all makes sense. They all know each other.” You speak. “That’s why they’re all connected. Holy shit.”

“I definitely know Kim Seokjin. Not personally, but we’ve seen a few of his movies.” Yoongi says crossing his arms, gesturing his elbow in Monnie’s direction.

“Oh yeah, how can we not know Kim Seok-” Monnie notices Yoongi eyeballing her playfully with a quirked eyebrow and she clears her throat. “I agree. They all know each other. Jimin and Taehyung are best friends who know Kim Seokjin because he is best friends with Taehyung. Kim Seokjin also knows Jeongguk because they happen to be stepbrothers and Kim Seokjin knows Hoseok because of the movie script and novel Hoseok wrote. Also,” Monnie takes in a deep, dramatic breath. “Hoseok knows Jeongguk because Hoseok stole his girlfriend at the time, and Jeongguk knows Jimin because he dated Jimin’s sister. Am I forgetting anyone?”

“My head hurts.” You groan.

“Ah, Namjoon! He is best friends with Hoseok and since he was in the same vicinity as everyone I have mentioned, he must know everyone. I’m sure he is familiar with Jeongguk because Hoseok probably told him.”

“You’re good at this.” You blurt. “Maybe you should be a writer.”

“I’ve dabbled a time or two.” She grins, holding a finger in the air. “And that concludes your shit show of a love life.”

“Thanks.” You roll your eyes. Yet, you couldn’t concur more.

When conversation finishes with your sister and her boyfriend, you feed Kenai and give him squishy hugs and kisses while he pelts his tail at you in annoyance. You don’t care how much he prefers his food over you sometimes, you want to give him kissies and he shall accept them. There is somewhere you want to be. Need to be. You just hope he will be there.

Ordering a driver after freshening up and putting on a light amount of makeup, you throw on some tennis shoes and make your way outside. Previously you were always uncertain of the destination you were going to go. But this time, you know exactly where you are going. He will always be who you run to. Jeongguk. You haven’t stopped thinking about him since the day you met him. It has all gone by so fast, yet there is plenty of time to become more than just a thought every other second. But, neither of you can proceed until the truth is told.

The drive feels tantalizingly slow as your leg bounces profusely in the backseat until you arrive at the bookstore. You swish some mouth wash from the mini bottle in your purse as you rush to the elevator after tipping the driver, spitting it into a bush before elbowing the elevator button. Your temples beat to your increasing heart rate. Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you recount everything. It’s time to lay it all out. No matter how risky.

Customers standing by on the third floor watch you zip past, and you try to follow your memory to Jeongguk’s door and when your feet stop before it, you inhale and exhale deeply to calm your nerves. You knock, letting your hope rise because you cannot wait to see him despite the words that haven’t been said. You hear running footsteps- and when the door opens, your breath hitches at his indescribable beauty. You see the way relief falls with his shoulders as he springs forward to hug you- pulling you into his home while the door automatically shuts behind you.

You take the time to hold him, bundling your nose into his warm chest while his hand moves to soothe into your hair. “Hey,” he whispers, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “Where have you been? I’ve been super worried.”

“I know,” you murmur, squeezing him tighter. “I know. I’m sorry… Something happened.” You hear the rustle of paws running around the living room and you can’t help but smile at the reminder of the cats. Instantly your smile falls, however, because you know a serious conversation is going to take place. Shifting to step back, so you can see the entirety of his face, he tries to read your expression. He can tell something is wrong.

“I know how you know Jimin.” You can’t help it when tears brim, especially when you see Jeongguk’s body tense. As if he is trying to protect himself from unwanted memories. From heartbreak. He remains silent. “Min-a.” Your voice is hoarse when you say her name. Jeongguk’s hands move to slide into his hair while he sucks in his lips, squeezing his eyes shut the second he registers who you just named. There’s pain in his demeanor. Pain, you know all too well. “She’s who my ex-boyfriend left me for… Hoseok.”

Disbelief, the common reaction, is all over his expression while his lips part as if to speak, but he doesn’t. “Hoseok’s not an actor…” You murmur. “He’s a writer… He knows your stepbrother because he wrote a story he wants filmed with Seokjin as the lead.” You wet your lips. “I met Jimin the day I met you. And yes… I hooked up with him the night the bar opened, but I was so emotionally distraught, I needed something. Anything to distract me because I saw Hoseok there. And his best friend. And… I was devastated that you didn’t show up.” Your fingers touch to your lips as you try to keep your composure. “I had no idea who she was until today.” You admit. “Absolutely no idea.”

“I-” Jeongguk struggles to find the words, but he steps closer to you. “I think it will take time for the shock to settle, but…” He swallows. “I never meant to hurt you that night I didn’t show up.” You feel your tears panging hot trails onto your cheeks, Jeongguk moving to cup your face to swipe the tears away with his thumbs. “I was still battling with whether I should start over with Min-a. She kept trying to reach out to see me again, and I fell for it a few times, but the second I met you.” His forehead touches to yours while you take in his warmth. “The second I met you, there was no one else I could think about. Not even her. In a fucked-up sense, I wanted closure, too. I thought…” He pauses, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. “I thought if I gave her a chance to explain, maybe that would be enough for me to move on, but… she never showed up each time she reached out. I knew I made a huge mistake what I did to you and when you were all I continued to think about I knew… I knew it was you I ultimately wanted to be with. I’m so sorry I broke your trust. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“No-!” You croak. “No, it’s okay. It’s really okay.” You plea through the tears. His eyes well with them too while you both try to get through this pain. Together. “You were hurting, too. We were hurt by the same people. It’s all so unbelievable, I can hardly understand it.”

“Well, if I haven’t learned anything at all, it’s that karma’s a bitch.” Jeongguk forces a chuckle, brushing a slow, warm kiss to your lips. “I won’t let him hurt you anymore.” You feel the tenderness in his caress. His promise. This time clothes make a trail on the floor to his bedroom where your bodies cling together while love is made through the night. In the end, you hope he is the man that will mend your heart the way you hope to mend his.

No more goodbyes, Cigs.

No more goodbyes.

And that will be your promise.

-

Seven months later…

“Breathe, y/n.” Jeon Jeongguk reminds you as you take in a prolonged, shaky breath. The buzzing of the needle starts to reach your skin while his gloved hands gently touch your limb. “I promise you it’s not that bad. Do you see my arm?”

“I know, Babe. But I have never done this before. Cut me some slack here.” You whine. Closing your eyes, a prick of pain starts to tingle against your skin from the sharp darts of pinches leaving traces of black ink in its wake.

“Good.” Jeongguk encourages. “See, I told you. It’s not that bad-”

He notices you wince when he gets to a different area of your wrist where he is permanently inking your ‘delicate skin’ as you have been referring. You knew you always wanted a tattoo, but it took your forever to figure out what to get. When the idea came to get an ink print of one of Kenai’s paws, you jumped to it. Jeongguk, of course, pretending to be jealous, made it clear that he better be the one who tattoos you. The shop is closed for the day, but Jeongguk being one of the main artists, he’s allowed to do tattoos on his own time, so it is just the two of you in the facility.

You are astonished at how quickly it goes by. The needle stings, but the pain is durable. It definitely is not as bad as you anticipated. It only takes Jeongguk 45 minutes to complete Kenai’s pawprint on the underside of your wrist. “Alright, take a look and tell me what you think and then I’ll apply the wrap.” He sets the needle onto the metal table next to the chair you have been sitting in, and he takes off his gloves.

The skin is red, with small dots of blood as you expected from where the needle etched the ink, but you are blown away by how brilliantly Jeongguk did with your first ever tattoo. “It’s… It’s perfect.” Your voice breaks from the tears brimming. “I love it.” You smile wide.

He chuckles, elated by your response. “I love you.” Preparing the sticky wrap, he carefully places it, afterwards pressing a kiss to your lips. “You did it.” His smile lights up your entire world as he proudly kisses you again.

“Only because of you. I wouldn’t have survived with anybody else.”

“Yes, you would have. It’s not that bad. I told you!” Jeongguk teases, waving his tatted arm in your line of vision while he points at it with his free hand.

“Fine,” you drone. “I would prefer that it be you because it’s more special. Kenai is the love of my life aside from you.” Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow. “What? He loves you, too!”

“Are you sure about that because he’s really gotten Flounder wrapped around his toe bean.”

“He’s got you, too.” You wink.

You moved in with Jeongguk a few weeks ago, adapting to the new life. So far, it’s gone rather well. He may not throw his clothes in the laundry basket, but at least he knows how to make up for it later. Wink wink. You inwardly giggle. Though LenLen was sad to see you leave, not only did Jeongguk get you a job at the bookstore, but you are the store manager which is nice because on breaks, you can just chill at home.

Home being with Jeongguk, Kenai, Flounder and Tetra. The crazy cat couple. Nothing gets better than that.

Jeongguk on the other hand has returned to tattooing. Something he is so talented at that its mind blowing. You are so grateful for how strong of a bond you two have formed since the first day you met. As far as Hoseok, him and Min-a have broken up by the whispers on the street, but you have found a way to forgive him. Especially when he reached out to apologize for how he wronged you and how none of it was your fault. How he should have known Min-a never truly wanted him, and that you are the sole reason his novel became a hit. The day he met you at the park. How you inspired it. You aren’t sure if he knows about Namjoon still, but you are glad he didn’t mention it if he does. You figure he’d tear the book to shreds at that point, but you thanked him for his apology and that you are happy with someone else. Very happy.

Jimin is a friend of you and Jeongguk to this day, but he does not speak about his sister in either presence considering her name is still an open wound. You and Jeongguk are still working on the forgiveness for her, too.

“It’s so amazing.” You awe about your tattoo once more. Jeongguk reaches to hold your other hand. “You’re so talented.”

He shrugs. “It’s a passion… Thank you for trusting me.”

Your lips pull into a gentle smile. “Always and forever.”

Leaning forward, you kiss him again and again and again and again. You love that you can trust that there will not be a goodbye from this glorious human being before you. He will always be your hello the second you wake up, the second you come home and every moment in between. “I love you,” he whispers breathless between kisses and if there weren’t cameras installed for security, you two would be making love right here in this seat.

“I love you too, Cigs.” You whisper against his mouth. “I love you so much.”

#jeon jeongguk #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk x you #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #jeongguk smut #jungkook angst #jeongguk angst #ot7 #jimin x reader #jimin x you #bts scenarios

[sunflowersteves]

kinktober day 003 — first bj

pairing || carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary || Carmen knew you were a bit inexperienced, so what better way than to show you how?

author’s note || first day of kinktober for me!! ❥ i hope you all enjoy as much as I did writing for carmen again. I haven't written anything in like,,, three months?? wowwow

warnings || fluff, inexperienced reader, SMUT, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, [18+ only]

kinktober masterlist

Carmy could tell you were nervous.

There was something about the way that you looked out the window of the car. There was a certain shine in your eyes that didn’t really match the expression on your face.

He looked away from the road in a quick glance. A hand flew through his hair and his fingers only tangled the curls even more. He bites his lip as the endless amount of scenarios crowded into his brain.

What were you thinking? Were you thinking about him? Was it bad? Did he fuck something up at the restaurant?

His mind was only getting louder at the soft quiet sounds of the car continuing to roll onto the asphalt. He couldn’t take it much longer—especially as he took another glance at you.

He pulled the car over and shifted the gear into park.

“Carmy? What are you—”

He turned to stare at you, blue eyes entirely wide.

“Do you not like me?” He huffed out. “B-Because I wouldn’t mind, you know. Like-like I mean, I get it. I know I’m hard to like since I can’t really—”

His mouth snaps shut at the sound of your laughter bubbling up to the surface. You didn’t mean to laugh, but there was something comical about what he thought you were thinking and what you were actually thinking.

By the time you calm down, his cheeks has a tinge of pink. “That’s not what I’m thinking about, bear. Far from it.”

Oh.

Whew.

His right eyebrow furrows, then. “What were you thinking about?”

Now it was your turn to become shy, your mouth was left open in an attempt to explain. A wave of warmth washes over you as you thought of the scenes that played through your head.

“I—” You looked over at him as if to ask if you really had to tell him. With that gleam in his eyes, you knew you had to.

“I was imagining how your dick would taste.” You blurted out.

He stared at you in shock. His brain seemed to freeze in time. The sparkle in your eyes wasn’t that of melancholy, it was arousal.

His silence was starting to make you nervous. He was making you nervous. “B-But if you’re not comfortable with that then I totally understand. I- you know, I haven’t done a blowjob before so I understand and—let’s forget about it, okay? Let’s just—”

Your rambling becomes interrupted when his lips crashed against yours. Your hands tangled themselves into his fluffy hair. His arms pulled you forward to the middle of the console—as close to him as he could.

“Fuck,” he breathes out against your lips. His lips can’t help put follow yours into another searing kiss. He was definitely addicted. “Sweet, sweet girl. You were just desperate, huh?”

You nodded. He couldn’t help but kiss you again and again. He had never felt so loved before. “Pretty girl.” He whispered against your lips.

As he separated the kiss, you stared into his eyes. They were almost black—a stark contrast from the bright blue that you know so well. His pupils were large and the way he licked his lips seemed to acknowledge that he wanted to devour you.

Carmen swiftly unbuckles his belt and shimmies off his restaurant slacks. His cock throbs at the cool air that rushes against him.

You, on the other hand, can’t stop staring. You’ll never stop staring.

You looked at the sheer girth of his cock—the way it swells against his palm. Your mouth watered by the pre-cum that sprouted against the tip. The vein on the side of his cock was prominent, gleaming near the tip.

You never noticed Carmy staring at you in awe. “You’re going to be the death of me, baby. Fucking god—”

Anxiety started to cloud your mind a bit. You wanted so desperately to please your pretty boyfriend. “But, Carmen, what if it doesn’t feel good for you?”

He almost wanted to laugh, but he’s glad he stopped himself. You were it for him. The person that he confides in, that he leans onto, and not to mention that he gets a boner from just by walking by him.

You were the one person in the entire world that he could never get tired of. To him, the idea of your mouth on his cock and it wouldn’t feel good? That’ll be when pigs fly.

“I’ll tell you what to do, okay? I’ve got you, baby.”

You smile at him as the weight on your shoulder lifts. It’s just carmy—your carmy.

You didn’t want to wait anymore precious time, so you rested your elbows against the console, leaning as close to him as possible.

He pressed a few kisses to your cheek and temple, letting you know to take your time. You didn’t want to, though.

“You’re so big, Carmy.” You whined. He could feel his cock jump at the way your mouth seemed to water. He watched you with hazed eyes as you gently licked the tip. He moaned at the warm feeling of your tongue.

“Fuck, please do more, sweet girl.”

His begging had only spurred you on. You could feel the way your underwear became wetter by the second. You take him him fully inside of your mouth, suctioning your mouth on his member.

“Swirl your tongue, baby—yeah, fuck.” You do exactly as he says, all while bobbing your head up and down. “Such a good girl.”

You weren’t even halfway on his cock, but he didn’t care. He’ll eventually train your throat, but for now? For now, he’s relishing in the way your mouth feels and how an inch of your touch is sending him into a spiral.

He moaned and groaned at the feeling of your mouth on his tip. The way your spit gave just enough lubricant to send his eyes rolling back into his head. “You sure you’ve never done this before, baby?” He slurred. “‘Cause fuck me—”

Your eyes flicker to his as you try to take him even further. His hips accidentally stutter into your mouth at the slick, wet feeling of your mouth.

“Holy, fuck—shit—you wanna take my whole cock, huh? You want to fit it all?”

You weren’t able to answer him, so he pushes your head off of cock and makes you look into his eyes.

The desperation leaks from his voice. “I need—I need you to say it, baby. I need you to say how much you want my cock.”

Your messy, swollen lips parted. You’re completely out of breath, but you don’t care—not with that glossy look in your eyes.

“Please, carmy. I wanna suck your cock so bad. I-I want to take all of it, please.”

Carmen could only groan and whimper from the way that you begged. It was sweet and sultry—he thought he might explode. “You make me fucking crazy, sweet girl. I’m already about to fucking cum.” You press slow kisses into his cock, accentuating your lips onto his sensitive areas.

You let out a loud whine as he gently pulls your head away from his cock. You wanted to have your mouth full of him again and to take that from you?

He soothed your desperate cries with a sweet kiss. His gentle lips fell right on top of yours—his mind savoring the moment.

“Want to cum in your mouth, baby. Is that okay?”

Your mouth opens almost automatically from the pure, raw arousal that yourcbody is radiating. “Please, carmy.”

He quickly moves his seat all the way back, making that extra room for you. Your mouth is directly below his cock, waiting for the salty substance.

He wraps his hand around his member, slowly pumping his swollen cock. “You look so fucking gorgeous like that, you know that? Fucking shit, I can’t stop looking at you.”

You smiled brightly up at him. You then started to open your mouth as wide as you could. “Cum in my mouth, Carmy. I need it.”

He continues pumping over and over, the whimpers he lets out are the only sound you seem to hear. You want to hear it more.

“Fuck, baby—shit—” He spills his cum into your mouth, forever and ever it seemed to leak onto your lips.

Some of it had even spurted on the outside of your mouth. His eyes widened as he watched the way you took every drop on your finger and licked it right off.

“Are you real?” He asks, dreamily looking at you.

You laugh. You pressed a gentle hand onto his cheek. “I’m real. Are you?”

He smiles down at you. “Yeah, I’m real.”

He moves his seat up and you both transition back to your seats. You wiped your mouth, just as Carmen finished buttoning up his pants.

“Ready to go home, baby?” His hand finds yours.

You smiled. Home sounded nice. Home sounded nice with him.

“Yeah, bear. Let’s go home.”

#kinktober 2023 #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto smut #smut #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #carmy berzatto

[bratzforchris]

can you do one where chris has a gf who gets psychogenic fevers? thank you!

Masking

Summary: Autistic masking takes a lot out of you and leads to you running a psychogenic fever, but luckily for you, Chris is always right by your side to help you<3

Pairing: Chris x neurodivergentfem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of masking, autistic meltdown

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Thank you for the request! I actually experience psychogenic fevers myself (related to masking and burnout), so this was a very self-indulgent request :) For those of you that don't know, psychogenic fevers are stress related and psychosomatic. You can read this article for more info<3 Hate/ableism/etc will be blocked and deleted ♡ Enjoy!!

There were very few parts, if any, of your relationship with Chris that you didn’t like. Everything was absolutely perfect. Your boyfriend spoiled you rotten, taking great care to make sure you were okay physically, mentally, and emotionally, and always made sure to both accommodate and help you accommodate your disability. Chris never made you feel wrong, bad, or different for the way your brain worked. Quite the opposite, actually. However, there were things that even he couldn’t control for you. 

Like today, for example. The morning had started off rather rocky, with Matt unintentionally finishing off the milk before you’d had your bowl of cereal. Frosted Flakes was one of your safe foods, and not being able to have them, along with getting out of your routine, had left you teary-eyed and anxious. The middle triplet had apologized profusely, and although you forgave him immediately, it still put you out of whack. Then, instead of your usual afternoon snuggle and stim time with Chris, you’d both been running around the house getting ready for the movie premiere the trio had been invited to this evening. 

All of those events had led you to now, standing off in the corner of the ballroom that had been used for the afterparty, nursing a sweating glass of Sprite. You adored being Chris’ girlfriend, but sometimes all the things you had to attend as a plus one became exhausting, especially when you had to mask around all the people you didn’t know. You’d been suppressing your stimming all evening, as well as small talking with a variety of people without Chris by your side, and it was beginning to wear on you. You shivered, setting your drink down on a nearby tray and rubbing your arms, both as a stim and to warm yourself up. You supposed it was the thin, silky slip dress you had on, but for some reason you felt awfully cold. 

In the wake of trying to warm yourself up, you hadn’t even noticed Chris appear by your side. “Hey ma,” he smiled, sipping his own drink. “I’ve barely seen you all night.”

You hummed softly, still trying to warm yourself up. “Is your jacket in the car?” You asked softly, wincing at the ache in your joints. 

Chris studied you for a moment, assessing your quiet voice and shaking frame. “Are you okay? You’re not looking too good…” After being with you for nearly two years, your boyfriend could practically read you like a book, always being in tune with your moods and feelings. He also knew that you experienced psychogenic fevers, and that the lack of routine, as well as masking around a large group, probably wasn’t doing you any favors. 

“I’m cold,” You mumbled. “I feel like I’m getting the flu or something but I don’t have a stuffy nose or anything.” 

Had you been able to think more clearly, you would’ve realized that you were currently going through what was unfortunately a pretty common experience for you. You had started experiencing psychogenic fevers in high school, once the stress, combined with being neurodivergent, kicked in. They were usually low grade fevers and body aches that would come on during the night due to stress and anxiety and then be gone by the next morning, but they made you feel awful nonetheless.

Chris ran his thumb across your cheek softly, noting how you leaned into his touch like he was the last source of warmth on earth. “D’ya wanna go home, ma?” he asked gently. “You’ve got a fever, babe.”

You looked up at your boyfriend as tears collected on your lash line. “Oh…I guess I should’ve realized…” You mumbled, the thought of why you were feeling terrible finally kicking in. “We don’t have to go, though. I’ll be alright. Enjoy the party.” You tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“Sweetheart, there’s no way I’m gonna let you just sit here all stressed and burning up. This party’s shit, anyway. Stay here, ‘kay? I’m gonna go get Matt and Nick.”

You felt your heart swell as you watched Chris walk away. Despite his assurance, you knew how much your boyfriend loved parties, and the fact that he was willingly leaving one for you made you want to cry. You curled into yourself as much as possible on the small couch next to you while you waited for the triplets. All you wanted at this point was a hot bath and for Chris to hold you. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖

The next thing you knew, Chris was gently shaking your shoulder, brushing your bangs off your forehead. “Ma, come on, honey. We’re going home.”

You sleepily blinked open your eyes, realizing you had fallen asleep in the time it had taken for Chris to find Matt and Nick. “Oh…I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep.”

Chris smiled softly, while Nick looked on worriedly. “Matt’s getting the car.” he explained at your confusion to only seeing two-thirds of the triplets. 

Your boyfriend helped you up gently, leading you by the arm towards the exit while Nick shielded you from onlookers’ eyes protectively. Had Chris had his choice, he would’ve carried you, but he didn’t want to completely embarrass you, nor did he want photos of you not feeling well circling around social media. You shivered when the three of you stepped out into the cool night air, whimpering softly. 

Chris helped you into the car, where Matt was idling at the curb. You immediately grabbed his hoodie from the front seat, pulling it over your shaking frame. “I’m cold.” You whispered. 

Your boyfriend caressed you in a tight hug as well as he could with his own seatbelt, holding you close so that you could feel his body heat as Matt sped home. By the time the car had pulled up outside of your shared LA home, you were practically asleep, your aches and pains making you miserable. Chris gently shuffled you inside, leading you upstairs to the bedroom.

“Do you want a hot shower, ma?” he asked you softly, helping you remove your earrings and necklaces. 

You shook your head, feeling too fatigued to do much else other than cuddle under the covers. Chris seemed to understand, continuing to help you undress with a soft smile on his face. In his eyes, you always looked like a goddess, no matter how sick or tired you felt. You sighed softly once you were dressed in a much more comfortable outfit that consisted of one of your boyfriend’s soft, big shirts and some cozy pajama pants. 

The brunette kissed your forehead with a soft ‘be right back’ as you snuggled up under your soft duvet. You laid across Chris’ pillow while you waited, breathing in his soft, boyish scent. Before you knew it, your boyfriend returned with a handful of medical supplies in one arm and a warm, wet rag in the other. Chris used the washcloth to gently remove your makeup, pressing kisses to your fevered skin as he did so. 

“Do you know what brought this on?” Chris whispered gently, sitting beside you. 

He had a pretty good idea of what had brought on this stress-induced fever, but he wanted to give you a chance to voice your feelings first. You rolled over, sniffling softly and pressing your face into his thigh as you tried to voice your concerns. Despite being home and in bed, you still felt the stress of being out of your routine and masking wearing on you. 

“Not right now? I’m too tired…” You mumbled, a sniffle escaping you. 

“Okay, ma. That’s okay. Let’s take your temperature, okay?” Chris gently grabbed the thermometer off the nightstand, gently sticking it under your tongue while he caressed your cheek. “100.3 (37.9 C). Not too bad, but enough to make you pretty miserable, huh?”

You just nodded sadly as Chris passed you some Tylenol and a water bottle. You downed the medicine quickly, shuddering at the bitter taste in your mouth. Your boyfriend easily helped you lay back down, pulling you into his chest as he spooned you. Instead of focusing on the pain you felt, you snuggled into Chris, realizing that this was the routine you had been craving all day. 

You and Chris would always spoon at night before you went to bed, talking about everything and nothing while huddled up under the weighted blanket that had been placed on the bed at your request. Tonight, Chris didn’t pressure you to speak. Instead, he mumbled little things about how strong and beautiful you were, how he hoped you felt better soon, and how much he adored you while he traced little shapes onto the soft skin of your arm. 

Despite your pain, you felt yourself becoming less tense. You knew your fever probably wouldn’t go away until tomorrow morning, and that you would need lots of routine and special interest time to get yourself back to fully normal, but for now, you enjoyed the brunette's soft hold, relishing the way it made your body feel perfectly aligned after a day of overwhelm. 

It was much easier for you to fall asleep than you had anticipated, the combination of Chris’ snuggles and the medicine working its magic lulling you to sleep. By the time you woke up the next morning, your temperature was back to normal and you made sure to shower your lovely boyfriend with affection for what a great nurse he had been. 

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagines #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader

[obsessedwithtoomanythings]

Anchor Up to Me, Love

Pairing: Alpha!Leon Kennedy x Omega!Reader

Warning: College AU, Knotting, Claiming Bites, Breeding Kink, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, But Leon saves the day, cause we love him, Possessive Leon S. Kennedy, Protective Leon S. Kennedy, Violence, just a lil, Leon S. Kennedy Being a Little Shit, Leon S. Kennedy is a tease. Leon S. Kennedy is a Sweetheart, I slept for 2 hours last night cause of this, bon appétit, bone apple teeth, Leon Kennedy loves eating pussy change my mind, Loss of Virginity, Unprotected Sex, POV First Person

Words: 3.3K

A/N: I wrote this in one afternoon, it was not beta'd at all. I pulled this STRAIGHT out of my ass. THIS IS NSFW. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, PLEASE GO AWAY. Title from Anchor by Novo Amor.

The campus was buzzing with hyper energy, the students littering the quad as the weather finally warmed up enough for them to comfortably rest on the green grass. My sneakers slap against the concrete as I take a deep breath in, the fresh air mingling with the student’s scents and I can’t help but feel a twinge of loneliness at the sight of the couples sprawled across the area.

I have spent half my life terrified of everyone - especially alphas - since my father’s warning when I presented. “You need to be careful, pup. Alpha’s only want one thing. You don’t want to end up like your mother - God rest her soul.” The fear it caused has definitely contributed to my self induced isolation. The scent blockers stir in my stomach, and I place a hand over my gut softly as I continue to head toward the library. I couldn’t afford the textbook, and thankfully the library had a cheap copy, but it can only be used in the library. I huff in annoyance as I mount the stairs. I step into the air conditioned building, skin prickling beneath my tee shirt. Should have worn a sweater.

The library is huge, 3 floors of walls lined with books, and the loner in me cries out in joy at seeing how deserted the stacks are. Having memorized the way already, I walk toward where they keep the textbooks and I run my fingers across the bindings until I come across where my textbook should be. I glance around to see if it was maybe misplaced before I head to the front desk.

“Hi, I’m looking for the Understanding Earth textbook for Professor Fieldman’s class?” I ask, and the woman behind the counter looks up with a small smile.

“Oh, that’s a popular one today. There’s a young man in blue who asked for it maybe 10 minutes ago. He should be in one of the study rooms, I think Room C.” The one with the windows. I nod, glancing down at my phone for the time. That paper is due in 12 hours. I’ll have to suck it up and ask if he’s willing to share. I head up the stairs, the hushed whispers of students giggling on the second floor catches my attention as I rub my fingers over my arms to warm them. The straps of my backpack are becoming more and more noticeable the longer the bag rests on my shoulders, and the girls’ voices become audible. “Wasn’t he adorable? He’s in my criminology class. His scent is intoxicating.” I scoff at their words. I walk toward the closed oak door before lightly rapping my knuckles on the varnished surface, and I crack it open as I hear a voice speak. Please be a beta. Please be a beta. Please be a beta.

“Yeah?” The door opens a bit more and that’s when I see him, strong hands hovering over the keys of his laptop, bright blue eyes trained on me as I stand in the doorway, my cheeks probably red from embarrassment.

“Hi,” I say before introducing myself with my name. “I know this is probably weird, but Professor Fieldman assigned a paper due tonight and I need some sources. Would you mind if I shared the textbook with you?” I ask, definitely speaking too fast as the anxiety crawls up my throat, tasting an awful lot like bile. He chuckles and that’s when his scent hits my nose. Those girls weren’t lying. He smells like pine and citrus, which you wouldn’t normally assume would mix, but something about the way it mingles as it enters my nose, my whole body flushes,, and I wonder if it’s because of him being an alpha or just him in general.

“I’m Leon. Leon Kennedy. And no, I don’t mind at all,” he says kindly, scooting his chair over a bit and pushing the textbook closer to the chair next to him. I should not sit next to him. His scent is already almost overwhelming and I’ve been in here for all of 1 minute. I find myself walking forward as I hear the door close behind me and I sit down in the black mesh swivel chair next to Leon. He gives me a small smile before I realize he probably thinks I’m a beta. My scent blockers should be enough. When is my heat due again? I vaguely wonder as I slip my backpack onto the floor next to me and pull out my laptop, opening the document to this stupid paper. “The paper on your favorite mineral and its multitude of uses?” He asks, glancing at my screen and I nervously huff out a laugh.

“Yup. I went with obsidian.” I say as I look back at him. His eyes are like two pools of blue, oceans in their entirety and threatening to drag me under and drown me.

“Good choice. Quartz,” he points his thumb at himself with a small smile as he runs his fingers through his hair before training his eyes on his paper. We sit in comfortable silence for about 10 minutes before the first cramp shoots through my gut. I press a hand to the muscle, hoping pressure will relieve the ache before it increases. I tense up as I groan, dropping my head to the cool desk as my skin feels like it’s on fire. “Are you okay?” He asks, placing a hand on my back, and the warmth of his hand makes me release a very different kind of groan, which I try to muffle by clamping my teeth down on my bottom lip, so hard I may be drawing blood. Heat washes over me and I vaguely register that I am absolutely going into heat right here, next to this alpha I just met. I reach down for my phone to check, and that’s when I realize that I am a week early for my heat.

“I’m fine, I just need to go, I’m sorry,” I whisper, and I stand quickly, slamming my laptop closed much harder than I should before practically throwing it into my backpack, slinging the fabric over my shoulders before I feel a hand lightly wrap around my wrist, not restraining me, just… catching my attention.

“I’m sorry, I can go if you need the-” Leon trails off, his voice fading into silence as his eyes widen. “You’re an omega?” He asks, and I know my scent blockers aren’t very effective anymore. Not against a sudden onset of heat in the middle of the day. I nod smally, feeling tiny compared to this alpha, despite him still sitting down in his own chair. The place where his skin meets mine on my wrist tingles, sending sparks up and down my arm as I am suddenly extremely grateful that I didn’t wrap myself in a sweatshirt. I’d be sweating through it by now.

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, taking a deep breath while facing away from me, as if he’s trying to compose himself before he speaks again. “Sorry, you’re just… You smell amazing…” He practically rasps, voice dropping to a painfully attractive octave. “I thought you were a beta when you walked in. You shouldn’t be out this close to your heat,” he mumbles, still unable to meet my eyes.

“I’m not due for a week. Trust me, I intend to go home,” I explain, and he nods as he lets go of my wrist. Without another word, I walk briskly to the door. I don’t breathe until I’m out in the fresh air, trying to wash Leon’s scent from my nose before I begin to practically sprint toward the parking lot where my car is. I’m almost there when I hear whistles behind me. Oh no.

“Where you going, pretty ‘mega?” My hands shake violently, slick pouring into the center of my panties due to the incoming heat, and I hear several sets of footsteps behind me. There are at least 3 of them. A cold hand lands on my shoulder and I yelp, dropping my keys to the tarmac as tears brim in my eyes. The alpha spins me around as his friends snigger behind him and his hard body presses me against the nearest vehicle, hands roaming over my jean covered thighs as the hot tears pour down my cheeks. His scent is vile, aggression and sweat wafting off of him in waves, and his nose runs along the column of my throat. “You smell so good, baby. How about you let me take care of your little problem?” His voice is gravely and harsh, tongue licking up my neck to taste my sweat. “God, I’m gonna knot you so-”

“Get the fuck off of her.” A voice says, and it takes my mind only moments to realize it’s Leon.

“Fuck off, finder’s keepers.” I squeeze my eyes closed so tightly that harsh colors flash across my darkened vision, and my hands push against his cotton tee shirt pointlessly.

“Then how about this?” The weight is gone, ripped from my body and I open my eyes to see that Leon has physically ripped the guy off of me and I watch as his body collides with the vehicle next to us, the white metal slightly dented from where his head hit before Leon’s fists tighten in his shirt, pressing him into the truck. “Touch my omega again, and you won’t be leaving unless it’s in a body bag.” Leon lets him go and we both watch as the alpha runs away, followed by his lackeys. If he had a tail, it’d be between his legs.

I sink to the ground, knees pressed to my chest and my hands press into the dark concrete. “Holy…”

“Are you okay?” Leon is there, crouching at my level. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” I shake my head, hands twitching, begging me to reach out and touch him and I can’t stop them as one lands on his shoulder.

“I just want to feel safe... Can you hold me?” I whisper, and it’s only seconds before his palms skim along my bare arms. Feeling like I’ve been shocked with straight electricity, my gasp escapes as I shift to press my nose into his shirt, the blue cotton/spandex mix beneath my lips driving me up a wall and rushing more slick into the gusset of my panties.

“Of course.” His words are soft, fingers carding through my hair in soothing motions. His lips are soft as they press to my temple and I clutch his shirt tightly in my fists. “What do you need?” He asks, making sure to address me by my name.

“You, alpha…” I whisper, desperation in my tone. “Please…”

“Fuck…” Leon mumbles, nodding and accidentally brushing his nose through my hair, and he groans. “Okay, come on.”

The kisses are all tongues and teeth, lips connected as teeth nibble at the already plump flesh as the door opens. Thank god he has an apartment, cause Dad would never let me bring home an alpha for him to fuck me through my heat. The room smells overwhelmingly like him, air fresheners be damned. Palms on hips, slipping into the waistband of denim, untucking shirts, fingers dancing across skin and I tug on the hem of his light blue shirt, silently pleading for it to come off.

“Need something, sweet girl?” He chuckles, a teasing edge to his voice. A whine slips from my lips into his mouth and he pulls back to press our noses together, foreheads in contact as he looks into my eyes. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Off, please, Leon.” Well, he said words. I managed that. He peels the fabric from his chest, my eyes raking over the exposed muscles and soft flesh.

“Eyes up here, ‘mega.” His finger slides under my chin, bringing my eyes to his as our lips collide again before parting to remove my own tee shirt, dropping the cotton onto a pile on top of his. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers under his breath. Before I can process the movements, my feet are off the ground before I feel the weight of the couch beneath me as he tugs on my waistband. “Can I taste you, ‘mega? Please?”

“Mhm,” I hum through my bitten lip, teeth pressing into the tender flesh as I help him remove my tight jeans, my panties flying somewhere in his apartment as he buries his mouth against my cunt without further question.

His name leaves my lips in a squeak as my fingers thread through his dark blonde locks, tugging the strands lightly as his tongue laps at my sex. Growls rumble from his chest as he sucks gently on my clit, the suction forcing gasps and moans from my mouth; I look down and find those intoxicating blue eyes locked on me, the wet sounds coming from my center absolutely lewd. How do people live without this?

“Do you want my knot?” The question should require more thought. More attention.

“Yes. Please alpha, need it.” Leon stands, lips and chin coated with my shiny slick, and I watch as he licks the fluid off his lips before using his fingers to wipe off the remainder before sucking them into his mouth. Oh fuck, that’s hot. Nimble fingers undo the buttons of his jeans, tugging the zipper down tauntingly. “Leon.” His name comes out as a frustrated groan, and I’m gifted by the sweet sound of his light chuckle.

“Patience is a virtue, sweet girl.” I groan, a small laugh of my own filling the air as he comes up to kneel between my thighs, the skin of my ass pressing against his thighs as he leans forward to rub his cock along the length of my core. “Fucking shit, got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, ‘mega. Have you ever had a knot before?” He asks, rolling his hips so his tip bumps against my clit and I shake my head no. “Have you ever had sex with anyone?”

“No…” I admit, hands coming up to press against my hot cheeks.

“That’s okay, ‘mega. Do you want to keep going?” I peek between my fingers to see his soft smile. He is willing to stop for my comfort. “I can make you come in other ways if you don’t want-”

“I want your knot, please Leon.” My hips cant on their own accord, rubbing against him and his groan quickly dissolves into a huff of laughter, the sound filled with affection and gentleness.

“Okay, baby. We’ll take this slow, okay?” His head nudges at my opening, pressing the head in. The slight burn doesn’t last as my body adjusts to him, his arms caging me in on both sides of my head filling each of my senses with nothing but Leon, Leon, Leon. It continues like this, him pressing his length pressing in an inch or two before he pauses, huffy breaths puffing against my face as his peppers my face in soft kisses, my hands cupping his jaw and nape of his neck to feel some semblance of balance as he splits me open. I have nothing to compare it to, but he feels pretty big to me. Finally after a painstakingly long time, his hips press forward, flush with mine, and we both release shaky pants at the sensations.

“Please move,” I whimper as my hands shift to dig into the firm muscle of his shoulders, dull nails leaving crescents in his flesh.

“Anything for you, my sweet little omega.” The sweet words are quickly drowned out as he begins a leisurely pace, and I can feel the drag of his cock against my walls at every movement he makes. Kissing is futile by this point; We’re practically just breathing into each other’s mouths. His pace begins to steadily climb, faster and harder as his deft fingers rub soft circles over my bud, my head thrown back in response to the new sensation. “Does that feel good, sweet girl?” I nod before his earlier command rings through my ears.

“Yeah, Leon… Feels so good.”

“Such a perfect little omega, my omega.” The possessive tone sends a wave of heat straight down my spine as he continues. “That alpha touching you earlier… God I wanted to rip his throat out…” Hips slapping harder against mine as my moans grow in pitch, his name practically the only coherent sound that can be heard from my lips.

“Yours, alpha. All yours.” The blonde nuzzles into my neck, teeth grazing across my sweat slicked skin. He speaks, and it takes a nip to my ear to realize he’s speaking, my focus being tugged between the wet sounds of us meeting, his teeth on my neck, his scent in my nose, and his dirty words in my ears.

I want to claim you.

Fill you til it spills from that tight little pussy.

Want my babies, sweetheart?

Knock you up, god you’d look so pretty carrying my babies, ‘mega.

I nod blindly, barely unable to form words anymore as I’m so fucked out, so cockdrunk.

“Yes, please, fill me. Want it. Want you.” I groan in protest as he pulls out, emptiness bringing tears to my eyes before his gentle caress causes me to peel my eyes open to meet his. I’m greeted with a new sight. This isn’t just Leon.

This is my alpha.

“Present for me, ‘mega.” I nod, flipping over so my knees press into the scratchy fabric of the couch, arms resting on the arm rest as my body arches for him practically unconsciously. This is how it feels to find your mate. Callused hands trace the skin of my back, rubbing softly over the skin of my ass before his tip presses against my opening again, sliding in much easier than before, the wet slick aiding in creating a smooth glide and I practically feel him in my throat as he resumes a fast pace. Mumbles of curses fall into the air, sweaty skin pressing to my back, giving him access to whisper in my ear.

“I want you to come for me. I’ll give you my knot if you do.” The rough tips of his fingers return to my clit, rubbing much faster circles as the band in my gut pulls tight. “Come for me, omega.” That’s all it takes. I come with a yelp of his name, followed by a chorus of ‘alpha’s mixing with ‘Leon’. He growls, leaning forward to press the expanding ring of muscle into my pussy as his teeth sink into the flesh of my neck, locking us together in every sense of the words.

Gentle hands maneuver us to our sides, his warm body spooning as he grabs the blanket from the back of his couch to drape it over us as the sweat on our skin rapidly cools in the now chilly air of his living room.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, lips pressing soft kisses across my exposed flesh, and he sounds almost guilty. I nod sleepily, reaching back to run fingers through his hair with a chuckle. “Something funny, cutie?”

“I don’t think sharing the textbook is gonna be an issue anymore.” At my words, we both burst into a fit of giggles, panting breaths as I turn my head to press our lips together before I gasp, hands coming up to my mouth.

“What?”

“My dad is gonna kill us.” I admit with a nervous laugh.

“Nah. I meet parents like a champ.” His face practically drips with confidence and I chuckle.

“Oh really?”

“Oh yeah. Look at my face. This is the face of ‘I’m absolutely not sleeping with your daughter’.” The laughter is uncontainable now.

Oh yeah. Definitely.

Tags:

Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22 @akiramoon8088

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #Alpha!Leon #Omega!Reader #resident evil fanfiction #Alpha!Leon Kennedy

[icyharrington]

haii okay this is #82 on the prompt list for steve, requested also by my lovely boothang @wroteclassicaly​ !!

“this is a one time thing.”

contains: daddy kink, blowjobs, deepthroating/face fucking, dirty talk, u suck steve’s dick at work lol

“You’re- fuck- crazy,” Steve Harrington breathes against your mouth as you shove him back into the supply closet of Scoops Ahoy with enough force to knock several cleaning products off of the shelf. He goes to pick them up off the floor, but you stop him in his tracks, yanking him back to you by the front of his dorky uniform. “Fuck. We have to be quick or Robin’s gonna kick my ass.”

“You are so cute when you’re nervous,” you coo, standing on your tiptoes so you can wrap your arms behind his neck. “Especially in your little outfit.”

“Gee, thanks, (y/n)! That totally wasn’t emasculating at all,” he mutters bitterly, before plucking his hat off and flinging it off to the side. “There. Better? Now you can see my hair in all its glory.”

“No, I liked it!” you protest, pouting at him the way you always do when you’re being particularly bratty. “I’ve always wanted to blow you while you’re in your work uniform.”

He scrunches up his face in a mixture of apparent disgust and confusion, which makes you laugh. “Why?”

“I dunno. Why not?” You sink to your knees, unbuckling his belt. He licks his lips as he watches you, the anxiety on his face transforming into something entirely different, but all too familiar.

“I can’t believe you visited me at my job just to do this,” he murmurs, although he doesn’t sound particularly vexed. It sounds more like he’s in awe of your boldness, if anything. “You are so fucking bad.”

“I should visit you here more often,” you think aloud, as your fingers work his shorts down to gather around his ankles. He’s wearing a pair of plain white boxers underneath, which you think look sexy on him despite their plainness, but then again, you literally think he’s sexy in a cheesy sailor costume.

He’s frowning, but it’s obvious that he’s trying very hard to maintain his rule-abiding facade. “No, (y/n). This is a one time thing, okay? I could lose my job.”

You stick your tongue out at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest defiantly. “You’re really going to deprive your girlfriend of two different types of free cream?”  

You say this to make Steve laugh, and it works; he’s shaking his head incredulously, arms lifting to fold behind his head as he grins down at you. “You are such a fucking slut, (y/n). I mean, jeez!”

Reaching into his underwear, you take hold of this gradually strengthening erection, working it back and forth in your fist for a few strokes until he’s fully hard. Steve’s cock is big, and even though you’re well aware of that fact, it’s still such a shock each time you wrap your fingers around his thick length. You love to tease him there, trailing your fingertips up and down the protruding veins that travel through, until he’s swearing lowly under his breath. “Yeah, but you love it, though.”

“Yeah, ya got me there.” He takes a fistful of (h/c) hair as you strip off his boxers, taking him into your mouth without hesitation. “Fuck. You’re my little slut. Can’t get enough of my big dick, can you?”

You attempt to shake your head as you move your head up and down his length, placing your hands on his muscular thighs in order to take him deep, just how he likes. His head lolls back as he lets out a hoarse groan from the back of his throat, bucking his hips against your face until you’re sputtering. “Yeah, I like you like this. It’s the only time you’re not running that bratty-ass mouth.”

Since you’re unable to retort, you shoot a venomous glare in his direction, though you continue to work on his cock with your mouth. He has a firm hold on the back of your head, preventing you from drawing back when he begins to slide his cock further into your narrow throat. “Yeah, good girl. Take all of it.”

He keeps you in place as he shifts himself back and forth, fucking your face at a leisurely tempo; and, like his little whore, you stay kneeling for him, hands folded primly in your lap. It’s a dynamic that you love- you, the devious, mastermind submissive, and Steve, the flustered dominant.

You can’t do much besides bat your eyelashes up at him as he essentially uses your mouth to masturbate, his jaw clenching as he knits his brows in concentration. He’s going so hard that there’s saliva dribbling down your chin and black smudges of mascara ringing your eyes, but you’re too wrapped up in his taste to care how badly he’s wrecking you.

“Fuck- yeah, that’s it. Take it nice and deep for daddy,” he encourages, his breath lodging in his throat for a brief moment. He loosens his grip on your hair, allowing you to regain some control of the situation. You decide to relocate your mouth to his balls for a change in scenery, reveling in his frantic moans as your tongue laps aimlessly at the sensitive skin there. “Fuck, (y/n). That’s my good little slut. You gonna swallow all my cum, baby?”

You nod eagerly, between sloppy strokes of your tongue against him. “You know I will, daddy.”

“Shit…” he mumbles, looping a portion of your hair around his hand and using it to steer you back to your original position. “Open your mouth.”

You do as you’re told, opening wide as he angles his cock over your mouth, pumping himself with his fist until his stomach muscles contract, a telltale sign that he’s about to cum. He manages a breathless, “wider,” before he releases his load into your waiting mouth, his orgasm accompanied by a series of strangled grunts and moans.

Steve is so sexy when he cums, with his plump lips bitten red and forehead slick with afterglow; you watch him adoringly as he rides out his orgasm, mouth falling open to call your name.

You swallow his cum, letting the salty-sweet taste coat your mouth as it slides down your throat. Once it’s gone, you proudly display your empty mouth for Steve to let him know that you’ve done your job.

It takes a moment for him to snap back into reality, his eyes half-lidded and dazed as they scan his surroundings, and then you. He strokes your hair with his massive hands, humming, “that’s my girl.”

He redresses himself as you stand up and retrieve his hat for him, which you find overturned beside the mop bucket. Your knees are sore and will likely be covered in bruises tomorrow, but you don’t mind a few bumps here and there if it means pleasing Steve. “Do you think Robin’s wondering where you are yet?”

“No,” comes a familiar singsong voice from the other side of the closet door, and you and Steve whip your heads to look at each other, eyes wide. Of course Robin had overheard the whole encounter, and had chosen not to say anything until now. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell! As long as you promise to wash your hands before you get back to work, Stevey-poo.”

Robin laughs obnoxiously, and you’re caught between drinking the nearest cleaning chemical or busting into hysterics yourself.

Steve, on the other hand, looks like he wants to die, a pained expression painted across his crimson-flushed cheeks.

“God fucking damn it, (y/n).”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #joe keery #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #mine #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine

[nicksbestie]

Hey! Could you write one where Matt is having really bad anxiety because of the Wheel of Doom video (the one where he has to eat ketchup) and his girlfriend is super comforting and takes care of him if he’s sick after?

Anxious - M. Sturniolo

Summary : Matt hates the videos that make him feel awful, but you always know how to make him feel much better <3

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

Warnings :

Word Count :

A/N : As a picky eater this was an amazing req to write <3

There were some videos that Matt absolutely hated filming. He enjoyed the general idea of the videos, he even enjoyed watching other people film and create them, but he really didn’t like doing some of them himself. Unfortunately for him, he was often outvoted on those videos, two to one, since Nick and Chris were normally up for just about anything. This Friday’s video was one of those kinds of videos, and Matt was trying not to freak out. They were filming a Wheel of Doom video, and there were very few good options to land on. He knew he would have to be incredibly lucky, and he wasn’t sure how long his luck would last before completely running dry. 

It started off okay, with him landing on the “water for a week” slot. It was frustrating, because of the fact that he had just finished doing exactly that, but it wasn’t awful, nor was it painful. He was okay with that one, but it did little to settle the anxiety swirling in his stomach. His second turn went even better, with him landing on an already empty spot, and he got to sit that round out. After the third turn, when it landed on one of his brothers getting to post on his story, his anxiety was starting to level out, but he was still slightly worried about what was left on the wheel. 

His fourth turn kept him out of trouble once again, landing on an already empty spot, and he continued to watch his brothers turn. The same thing happened again for his fifth turn, and as things disappeared off of the wheel he began to think that he could get through this, hopefully avoiding any of the bad choices that were left. He was beginning to enjoy himself, especially when Chris landed on the slot of “100 pushups”. However, as there were only a few options left, his anxiety was beginning to race again as one of the options that he really did not want to do was left on the wheel. 

Chris was still finishing his pushups, and Matt was hiding his anxiety behind laughing at his brothers, trying to be supportive in some clips, keeping up their usual banter. His turn came dangerously close to landing on a spot filled with a nasty challenge, and you could easily see the relief on his face. As they continued to spin, he clarified in the video that he couldn’t stand the ketchup challenge, and he was really hoping that someone else landed on it before he did. Unfortunately, his luck had run out, and it finally landed on the yellow space as he stared at it blankly. 

Chris was drinking his egg challenge before Matt had to do his consequence, and that time was simply causing him to freak out more, his nervous laughter easily heard in the background as he watched the way Chris was reacting. He was talking to Nick, attempting to distract himself as Chris finished his consequences, and before he knew it, he was sitting in the same spot that Chris once was, staring at a small fry that was almost halfway covered in ketchup, regretting every choice he’d ever made. 

Just looking at him, you could tell that he was completely freaked out, hating having to eat things that he didn’t like. He had told you about the video that he was planning to film, and you had been there, behind the camera, watching the whole thing, as you were for a lot of their content, laughing along with them, but also knowing that this was a very real possibility of him having to do this consequence. So, you were off camera, but right there in case something went wrong and he needed you. You had also heard Nick say that the camera was dying, which helped in some ways because you knew it would get Matt to quickly eat it, or spit it out, and then he’d be done with the video and could get off of the camera if he needed to do anything more drastic. Chris was yelling at him to swallow the french fry once he finally ate it, and he immediately got off of the camera as soon as he was done, and he disappeared into his room. Nobody except you would see how he was feeling after the video ended, and it was not good.

When he got up, saying that he was going to go cry in his room, he hadn’t lied. You had followed him into his room the second that the camera had turned off, and found him downing the root beer he had grabbed from the fridge, desperate for the taste to leave his mouth. There were tears in his eyes, always having been more sensitive to food, especially ones he didn’t like, and once he set the root beer down, he immediately laid down in bed, letting you lay down next to him. Once you laid down, he clung to you, resting his head on your lap, and you ran your hands through his hair. 

“How are you doing, baby?” 

He didn’t speak at first, scrolling on his phone for a couple of quiet seconds before he looked up at you, shrugging, and he had a sad look in his eyes. 

“Not great. I can feel my stomach starting to hurt.”  

You gave him a sad look back, gently combing through his hair, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. 

“It’s going to be okay sweetheart. Your anxiety is getting the best of you, baby. It’s going to be alright.” 

There were so many cuddles and gentle comforts shared from you to Matt that night, soft kisses, stomach rubs, and a lot of love. You didn’t speak too much more to him that night, but right before he fell asleep, he mumbled something you barely caught. 

“I’m never eating ketchup again.”

~ taglist : @blahbel668 @strnilo @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt x y/n #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo headcannons #matthew sturniolo x y/n #matthew sturniolo oneshot #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x y/n #chris sturniolo headcanon #christopher sturniolo x y/n #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris #fanfic

[f1version]

SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO ‧͙*̩̩͙❅ MSC47

pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader ( she/her )

summary: Mick and you have been best friends for years, been through the good and bad, but feelings change and thoughts spiral. Will this holiday time make both of you realize that you could be the one?

warnings/info: fluff, best friends to lovers, miscommunication (they’re avoiding each other), kissing, a bit of anxiety, a try-to hallmark movie my way through fics. 

word count: 2.1k words

note: inspired on sabrina carpenter’s song! hope you like it, have a good day and happy holidays! 

snowglobe, a holiday special

DECEMBER 20, 2023

It’s cold outside; snow is falling everywhere but not with enough force to block the streets or close the stores. Usually, when the weather looks like this, you would call Mick and bake those cookies he loves. He would put on his ‘Emotional Support’ apron and pretend to help. You would tease him about how he never does anything, just there to eat, and he would laugh, eyes lighten up, and say something along the lines of—I just passed you the flour! or whatever ingredient he helped you grab from the shelf ten minutes back.

Sometimes you wonder how you ended up in this place, so desperately in love with your best friend, with butterflies in your stomach when he hugs you, a silly smile on your face when he tells some awful joke, and an enormous fear of telling him, sort of. It doesn’t matter; that won't stop you from baking cookies on such a pretty snowy day.

You: Wanna come over? I’m making cookies

Mick: Very busy right now

Mick: Just do them without me

You: that's alright

Here’s the thing: Mick’s been acting as cold as snow since the last time you saw each other a week ago. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, not that you are aware of; you were watching Hallmark movies together, and he decided to leave abruptly before the movie ended. Maybe it’s just an emergency, he said, but he’s been running away from you for days, your friends confused over the whole thing. 

You wonder if he’s noticed. Lately, your friends have spent a lot of time telling you how obvious it looks—shiny eyes paired with a never-ending smile. They have also suggested it’s mutual, which you hope because all you've wanted to do before your family's Christmas party is to confess, but who knows, maybe you’ve all been watching too many movies.

DECEMBER 22, 2023

“Are you sure you didn’t do anything to make him mad?” Alicia, your best friend, asks. She came in to leave some decorations for the party on Sunday, but one life update lent to another and of course, the Mick situation came up.

“It doesn't even seem like he’s mad at me,” You say because it’s true, you’ve known Mick long enough to know how he acts when mad,  “he’s just ignoring me.”

She sighs. “Then why don’t you ask him what’s wrong?” 

You’ve asked yourself that a couple of times, but the answer is still not clear, usually is as easy as walking down the street to his house but this time the thought overwhelms you. “Because I'm scared?” You answer, out of breath. “I don't know. I’m focusing on the party, especially because Mom doesn’t come back until tomorrow evening.”

“Honestly, my suggestion is for you to ask him before the party.” 

You sigh, knowing she’s right. The Christmas party is a tradition your families started eleven years ago, after Alicia, Gina, Esteban, Mick, and you decided to become inseparable at one of Mick’s birthday parties. This year it will be hosted at your family home, and with your mom away in Germany for a work conference, you’ve had your friends come around and help. They’ve all shown up but Mick. What the hell is his problem?

“I know Ali but,” Your phone starts ringing, Mickey is displayed on your screen with a picture of Mick carrying Angie. Alicia rolls her eyes and encourages you to take it with her head. “Hello?” 

“Hi. I'm panicking a bit,” he says, the background noise lets you know he's in his car. 

“Why?” You ask, forgetting you were having a crisis on this. “Is everything okay?”

He sighs. “It’s embarrassing, but I have no idea what to get your mom,” he says, and you laugh. Last year, you were having this exact crisis about Corinna.

You hum, thinking, “She wanted new pedals for her bike. Loved some she saw in Bike World; you’ll have to drive a bit, but I’ll send you the pic.” You put your phone away, change the call to speaker, and open messages, sending the picture your mom sent you a month ago. “There you go.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

You smile, letting out a laugh. “I know, idiot.”

“Bye, love you,” he says. Your calls always end like this; it’s a habit, so you mutter Love you back and hang up.

Alicia is staring at you, a grin on her red lips. “I hate both of you,” and she laughs, grabbing her keys and purse, about to leave. You’re somehow dumbfounded. 

“What?”

“Bye, love you. Love you,” she mimics, and you feel heat rise up your cheeks. “You guys really need to talk; I’m done dealing with him too.”

“What? Ali, it’s a ha-”

“I’m coming back at six”

“Alicia!”

“Just ask him!” She closes de door before you can even ask her to come back.

DECEMBER 24, 2023

Needless to say, you didn’t talk with Mick on the 23rd. Too busy dealing with the party and, as Esteban said, too busy avoiding the topic. 

Now it’s 7 p.m., warm lights tint the house while friends and family sway along the music in the background. Mick has been around since ten in the morning, bringing presents, a couple of ingredients that your mom was missing, and decorations, which he then helped put together. Now he’s just in full black attire, wine in hand, singing along to the song playing. Once again, you're too busy in your world to notice him approaching you.

“You always know which songs to play,” he says. Because he knows it’s your playlist reproducing. You know that’s one of his favorite songs.

“I try my best. But I also know it’s one of your favorites,” you answer, and he hums. There’s a void between you, one that hasn't been there before. It's not the tension when you fight or the longing when you're upset; it's not the excitement of seeing each other after months of traveling or the mischief when you prank your friends. It’s different—something that has been building itself for months—and you are too oblivious to understand what it is.

“You look beautiful,” Mick says, not looking at you but at his drink. He’s looked at you enough tonight, he thinks. You look up, suddenly feeling an outrageous urge to kiss him. Try and see if that’s the answer to all your questions.

He’s faster though, clears his throat, and says, “I’m going for more cookies.”

And he leaves. Your eyes stay on his back as he takes one cookie from the snack table. See him hum to the taste. You smile, bittersweet, What is going on, Mick? You want to shout at him, tell him in a million different ways how confusing all of this is, but that’s a talk for tomorrow; you’ve decided, you can't escape it any longer then.

"Shatz,” Someone calls and then says your name.

“Hm, yes, mom?” You ask, and it’s time to eat.

[ 10 minutes later ]

You are in the middle of dinner, or gossiping time, as Gina calls it, when Aunt Adelaide starts asking each one of you—the single, young members of the family and friends—about relationships. It’s not your favorite part, but a lot of fun commentary comes out of it.

Hearing your name, you know it's your turn. “Do you have anyone special yet? Maybe a secret boyfriend you don't want to tell us about?"

You laugh, “No, no. But I hope someone comes along this year.” First, you have to get over Mick, you think, and laugh a bit more.

“I have a neighbor I could introduce you to, dear. He’s a lovely young man.” She always has someone to present you to; it’s surprising. You try to go on dates with them, but they never end up working.

“I’ll think about it.” You say this as the loud sound of silver hitting the floor calls everyone’s attention.

Mick abruptly stands up. “I’m sorry,” he says as he picks up his fallen fork. He looks uncomfortable, like he’s had enough of the food, the music, or the topic. “Excuse me, I’m going for another one.”

The table has fallen silent. Aunt Adelaide is looking at you in amusement, a playful grin on her face. Someone nudges your shoulder, and you know it’s Alicia. Her eyes stand on a strange middle ground between confused and knowing, tilting her head in encouragement, like she always does. You also stand up, not so abruptly, but now everyone looks at you expectantly. “I’m going. Excuse me.”

You follow Mick to the kitchen; thankfully, it's far enough from the dining room that no one will bother.

“Mick?” You call once you’re there. His head is on his hands, and he is murmuring inaudible words to himself. "Mick, what is going on?"

He looks up, his hair messy. He’s overthinking, and you don't know what to do. You feel lost looking at him, far away from his thoughts and feelings. “What do you mean? Everything is alright.”

“You don’t look alright,” you say, shaking your head. “You’ve been acting strange.”

“No, I haven't. We’re alright,” he lies once again, picking on his thumbs.

You sigh, knowing this is when you talk about it—no script, no thinking, just questions and hope for answers. Whatever is budging him has his anxiety running in full force. “No, you’re not, and we're not; I have no idea what just happened, and you're acting as if you barely know me."

He takes a deep breath, runs his fingers through his hair, and looks at you with his deep blue eyes. You see questions being asked but don’t understand how to answer them. “It’s nothing; I'm just. It’s hard to explain; you won't understand.”

“I will try to understand then, like I always do.” You promise, taking two steps forward, close enough to reach out and hold him, "Just please talk to me."

“I don’t want to mess things up between us,” he says, sounding afraid. It reminds you of the time sixteen-year-old Mick broke your favorite perfume by accident. He didn’t want to tell you, too afraid you would stop talking to him. You really hope he didn’t break anything, material or not.

“You won't. I will be here for you.”

“I just want,” he stops himself once again. His eyes never leave yours, so you open yours a bit, waiting, listening to whatever he has to say, and it seems to work because he just says, “You."

“What?” You blank, not knowing what to say or do, not knowing if you understood correctly or if it’s the movie's effect once again. You see the exact moment in which he panics.

“No, fuck. I’m sorry, I.” He looks everywhere but your eyes, searching for an exit. Your first instinct is to grab his hand, keeping him where he is.

“I could,” you say slowly, looking at your now-intertwined hands. “I could be misunderstanding all of this, but, Mick,” you say, looking at him. He’s looking back, hope in his gorgeous sky blue eyes. “I like you, but no, not even. Mick, I’m so in love with you it hurts. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but then you disappeared. You didn’t want to see me; you were acting different, and I got so worried, but I think...”

“That we are both idiots,” he says, a small smirk growing on his lips.

“Yes, yes, we are.”

He smiles and brings his free hand to your cheek, says your name like it’s meant for him to say forever. “I’m in love with you too, so much. I got so scared when I realized that I didn't just like you, that I couldn’t hide it anymore. And then our friends started saying how obvious I was being.”

“Same here,” you say, laughing. He moves his hand, pulling you in for a warm hug. It feels different than any other you’ve shared; the last two pieces of a puzzle you’ve been building together, finally finding their place. It’s a breath of fresh air. Mick’s hands are all around you, softly caressing your back, his head buried in your neck, leaving a small peck before distancing himself enough so he can see your face. You want to ask if it's appropriate to kiss him now.

But he's the first to talk. “Quick question."

“Shoot."

“Do I need a mistletoe to kiss you?” He asks, and you laugh loudly. Shake your head in embarrassment. Oh, how you love this man.

“As much as I enjoy the tradition, all you, Mick Schumacher, have to do is ask,” and now it's his turn to laugh, brings you closer while doing so.

“Can I please kiss you?"

You pretend to think about it and decide to tease him a little bit: “Is that what you asked for Christmas?"

“It’s the exact thing I asked Santa Claus for."

“Then merry Christmas, Mick.”

taglist — @smartstupyd @ziarah . . . add yourself here

#‧͙*̩̩͙❅ snowglobe #‎ “ ࣭⸰ ★ my writings ! #msc47 #ms47 #mick schumacher #mick schumacher fic #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher drabble #mick schumacher blurb #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 mercedes #f1 x reader #f1blr #f1 christmas

[xo2dee]

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝐣𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

❦ Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader

❦ Warnings: None

❦ Word Count: 1858

❦ Summary: In which your lover comes home late again, and you decide to cook for him for once, even if your skills are severely lacking compared to his.

❦ A/N: this is so self-indulgent bc my ass really cant cook that well soooo

❦ twitter - ao3

8:23 P.M.

You sighed. He was late again.

You knew it wasn’t his fault though, more than often your boyfriend got winded into working overtime and stayed past the hours that he wanted to. Still, as much as he complained of it, you would’ve figured he would dismiss any and all thoughts of overtime if presented with the opportunity and make his way home to you at the time of his clock out. You couldn’t help but sigh wistfully at and for your lovable workaholic man; he only worked overtime because it was essentially wired into his blood and he would never leave unless he knew his job was done.

However, you were more slightly upset that he had called you at lunch time – you felt bad, you didn’t wake up early enough to give him a sweet kiss off for work – and told you he’d be home on time to make you both dinner. You didn’t want to eat without him at all, notably when you were partly worried he might have been hurt or something else (something worse, really), and with that anxiety you knew you couldn’t eat. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t cook, but you also never wanted to eat dinner without him. He was by far a better cook than you were, sure yours was… passable, but Kento’s was beyond expectations, and you looked forward to it every time he offered to make you food. Any and every time Kento made you a meal you fell deeper in love, especially when you found out he put more time and skill into it for you.

Your ears perked up from your lounging position on your couch when you could hear the tall-tale sign of the front door opening and the distant sound of his footsteps walking inside. You nearly rejoiced knowing he was home safe and coming around to greet you, while your stomach gurgled in its own way to hearing of his arrival. Finally, you two could eat and then snuggle into bed together.

Kento called out your name, and you sat up from your position to greet him, “You’re home.”

He removed his glasses and his blazer, draping the latter across the back of your recliner and his glasses on the coffee table, and took a seat next to you, “Did I wake you?”

You watched as he leant back resting his head on the back of the couch, arms spread out on the back and legs wide open, as your eyes lingered on his tie slightly loosened, “No, I was waiting for you.”

“Hmm, have you eaten?”

You stretched your legs out, feeling your appetite begin to kick in, “No, you know I don’t eat dinner without you.”

His head lolled to look at you pointedly, dark eyes in disapproval, “I told you to go ahead and eat if I work overtime,” he grounded out and you nearly had half a mind to not jump into his lap from his tired, rough voice.

“Well,” you began, crossing your arms in rebuttal, “I didn’t know you were gonna work overtime, you usually call…” you sent him a long side look slightly annoyed he hadn’t called to let you know he was fine and would be home later than his usual time. You began to wonder if he had eaten at all that day.

Kento sighed and closed his eyes, making you take note of the minor shades of purple underneath them, “I’m sorry, it was a situation where I had to take care of it quickly. Give me a few moments and I can make us both something.”

Instantly you felt awful; he was really going to sacrifice some of his resting time he rarely ever got to still make the both of you the dinner he promised instead of just calling for takeout delivery. You knew of his occupation as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, it had to come out once the two of you began a relationship and he realized he wouldn’t be able to hide it from you when he tended to work long hours and often came home with bruises or bleeding from scratches that weren't well enough for excuses. Kento came home more tired than anything half the time and managed to make you dinner without so much of a complaint, as long as you were fed, healthy, and taken care of it seemed nothing else really mattered to him. He really prioritized you over himself all the time, much to your chagrin.

For once you wanted to dote on him and make him feel good.

Wait –

Your lover moved suddenly and you realized he was getting up to go to the kitchen, so you pounced. Literally, you pounced onto him and threw your arms around his neck to try and drag him down, but it left you in an awkward position with your lower half still on the couch and your upper half dangling onto his shoulders. Kento, ever-so observant, had wrapped his own arms around underneath your chest at the sudden movement, clearly startled by the abrupt assault, whilst giving you an arched brow. He parted his lips to speak, but you beat him to punch.

“How about I make us both something for once?”

The look he sent you nearly made you want to cry.

He cleared his throat, “Are you… sure?” he asked, a slight degree of unease in his voice. You knew what he was thinking: You’re going to cook? By the look in his eyes, he was traumatized by your last attempt…

You huffed, a new feeling of confidence in your rushing in your veins and your body overwhelmed with determination, “Of course I’m sure, you’re tired and need to relax for once.” You could do just fine if you really put your mind to it. Especially for someone like Kento.

“Seeing you is relaxing enough.” He was trying to reassure you; you knew his gimmick. Try to make you believe he wasn’t exhausted at all and you would give in to his sweet words and he’d make you both dinner, then afterwards he’d shower and completely collapse into bed with you tucked up under his chin. You were not having it that time around.

Smirking at him, you tightened your grip on his shoulders, “Sweet talking me isn’t gonna work this time.”

Kento sighed, clearly defeated as he sat you both back onto the couch, “Okay.” God, why did he sound so deflated?

Regardless, you smiled and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, untangling yourself from his hold, “Stay in here then,” you stood, his hands brushing against your ribs as you did so, and pointing at him with an index finger close enough to nearly brush his nose, “just relax and maybe nap, I’ll come get you when it’s done.” He didn’t look convinced – probably nervous you’d catch something on fire – but relaxed back nevertheless, giving you his own small smile.

Determined, you made way for your shared kitchen, snatching Kento’s fresh white apron as you did so. Sure, it looked goofy on you and the haphazard way you tied it, but Kento wore it exclusively every time he cooked so it was only right you did the same. You had your mind set to make something you both enjoyed – or you thought you both would enjoy. You knew your way around a kitchen, how bad could it turn out to be?

...Yikes

You decided not to answer that when you saw his face as he tasted your 'meal'. His eyebrows slightly rose towards his hairline and his mouth twitched nearly into a grimace, but it almost looked like he was swallowing cough medicine when he finally did get around to it. Kento sat his utensil down after and cleared his throat before clasping his hands together on the table, looking up to you while you hovered over him.

“It’s great.” Bless him, he never wanted to hurt your feelings... even if it was the trivial of things.

You whined and threw your head back, “You hate it.”

“I could never hate anything you do.”

“Don’t be sweet, I know it’s nasty and you’re just trying to make me feel better,” you pouted and stared down at your own plate, untouched as you had waited for him to try the food first. Still, you were curious and picked up your own utensil to try it out as you sat down at your spot at the table. Kento was watching you looking almost concerned as you finally lifted the food into your mouth for your taste buds to feel.

You chewed and swallowed. Bland, burnt and…

"..."

“...”

“Kento, this tastes like ass.”

A sigh fell out of him as he placed his chin onto his fist, “Maybe so, though I don’t think that really matters,” he gazed at you as you fiddled with his apron strings, a rather strong sense of adoration radiating off of him, “It’s the thought of you making food for me after a long day of work.”

“Even if it’s bad?”

“Even if it’s bad.”

Your cheeks warmed from the words as you gave him an embarrassed glance, knowing the entire situation felt incredibly domestic and you felt like a spouse cooking for their husband. It hadn’t been a topic discussed between you two yet, though it was always lingering in the background given how deep your relationship went and how long you two been together. No doubt you knew he was thinking the same.

You stood after that, wiping your hands onto his apron to avoid looking at his face, “Yeah, well, I guess I should clean these since this tastes like shit,” you moved to grab his plate, yet the tug from the front of the apron sent you into his lap as he leaned back to situate you both into a more comfortable position as he cradled you against his chest. He’s being awfully bold tonight. You snuck a peek at him almost shied away from his intense stare.

You rested your hands on his shoulders as he spoke, “You should wear my apron more often.”

Sending him a raised brow, you let out a small laugh, “How can I wear your apron more when I can’t cook?”

“Who said wearing it only while you cook?”

You smacked his chest and voiced your earlier thoughts, “You’re being awfully bold tonight.”

A small smile graced him as he lifted you more to press his mouth against your temple, kissing it a few times, “I can’t help with it with how you look wearing it.”

You sighed and smiled, shaking your head while you snuggled into him by rubbing your cheek against his to enjoy the moment of domesticity between you two. Though the moment was broken by the loud growl of your stomach. You sheepishly peered up at him as he gazed back to you with the affectionate look he always had.

“I’ll call for takeout, and then we clean this together.”

Your response was just to kiss him for his sweetness, and you kept the apron on for the remainder of the time.

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kasien #source: animaterglittergraphics-n-more

[lydiimae]

Adoration

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Part 1 <3

MDI!! 18+

Warnings: Mentions of sex work, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions (very light and brief) of physical abuse to readers mother, oral (m receiving, vaginal sex, masturbation, dirty talk, talk of public sex

Word Count: 4.1k

A.N: ITS HERE. Part two of infatuation \^-^/! I had so much trouble trying to figure out how to extend this story, but as soon as I wrote this I was overwhelmed with ideas on how to continue it. I am so sorry I have been so very inconsistent with writing, I am nearing finals so I have been so low energy and motivation. (College is awful). For those who have sent me requests- they are coming I promise! Anyways my loves, here is Benedict Bridgerton and you being Benedict Bridgerton and you <3 I hope you enjoy it, and as always, thank you for your overwhelming support and love >_<

It has been two weeks since that lovely, lust-filled night with Benedict. Two weeks since you had officially become his mistress. Two weeks, and you still made sure to keep your past a secret, and the significant fact that you worked as a maid for the family that lives right across from him.  There was a certain shame that came with both, a feeling that he would not want you to come to his townhouse anymore if he found out. You thought he might find it odd that you work so close to his house. Perhaps he might even come to the assumption that you were seeking him out at the party, that he would find you strange. None of that would ever be true, of course. Benedict adores the time he spends with you, he makes it clear every time you meet, but there is still an underlying sense of dread. Especially today.

Indeed, that dread is the same dread that is lingering in the back of your head now. You are chaperoning Penelope to tea with Colin, much to her excitement. You had spent almost three hours getting her ready beforehand, insisting that she looks good in whatever she wears. The both of you walked across the street, the young debutante grinning ear to ear. You, on the other hand, were a ball of nerves. You had met Benedict in his bachelor's lodgings just last night, but you decided not to speak of what he may see today. You were regretting that decision now as you knocked on the door with a shaky hand.

“Y/N, you are shaking. Whatever is the matter? Are you feeling well?” Penelope asks, looking at you with pure concern. “It is only a headache, my lady. Nothing you have to worry about. Today is about you.” You assure, smiling as brightly as you can as you fib. She smiles back, her face brightening. The footman, John, answers the door and grins. “Lady Featherington. Lord Bridgerton is in the drawing room. Please come in.” He says, opening his arm towards the entryway. You collect Penelope's shawl before bowing your head to the footman politely. She starts down the hall and you take a deep breath before faking a sparkling smile, following her into the drawing room.

Sure enough, Benedict is there, sprawled out across the sofa with his sketchbook and charcoal in hand. He looks up lazily when Penelope walks in, but his expression quickly changes to one of shock when you follow. Your face shifts from a bright smile to an apologetic one, trying to communicate your worries silently. A silent prayer that he will pick up on your lingering anxieties about working for his neighbor. 

He clears his throat and comes to the door, where you are patiently standing. “You… for them?” He whispers as he approaches, his expression unreadable. You only nod in response, knowing that if you say anything it will come out a jumbled mess of stutters. “Why did I not know before now?” He asks, settling into a polite position near you. To anyone on the outside, it looks as if he is merely speaking to a maid about his brother and her mistress. “I... I suppose I did not find it important.” You fib.

“Well, I certainly do. You are so secretive.” He sighs, looking over at you. Your eyes settle on your feet, not daring to meet his. “Y/N. If you are going to be my mistress there must be some semblance of transparency between us.” He says softly, his pinky extending and curling around one of yours. The action makes your cheeks heat up. “I did not know if you would think it strange. I have worked there for so long… I thought you would perhaps think less of me.” You whisper, the reasoning sounding silly now that you have said it out loud.

"And why would I think that?" He asks, sensing your nerves and giving your pinky a comforting squeeze as if to say that he is not put off. "You do not find it strange that I have worked across the road from you for ages? I thought that you would think I somehow... sought you out." You whisper, a bit tense. “No, I only pity that you have to be in the same home as Lady Featherington, the woman is a wench.” He mumbles, nudging your hip with his own. You have to suppress a laugh as you look up at him. He looks down at you with an expression of adoration.

"Y/N, I do appreciate honesty. I wish for you to tell me things like this. You do not need to feel anxious around me." He says softly, turning from playful to concerned like a dime. "I do not. I promise. It is more anxieties that linger because of past experiences I suppose." You whisper, looking down at your feet. He senses that there may be something more underneath, and he also senses that you do not wish to speak about it any longer. "My statement still stands. I am not others, I shall not judge you for being a woman who needs to support herself. I certainly shall not judge you for being apprehensive of telling me the place of your employment either." He assures.

“Thank you.” You breathe, looking away before you slip up and do something entirely untoward. You watch Colin and Penelope interact, a small smile gracing your lips as you observe how sweet they are to each other. “Colin. Does he hold any affection for any of the debutantes this season?” You ponder quietly as you watch Penelope smile shyly at the young man. Benedict looks over as well and a knowing look crosses over his features. “He has been secretive about it. Unusually so.” He whispers back. “And Penelope?” He returns. “Penelope is ever hopeful about one.” You hum before returning your gaze to him. 

He meets your eyes and nods, giving your pinky a squeeze with his own. “She is a sweet girl. I have no doubt she will be successful in making her hopes a reality this season.” He murmurs. You nod and look away once more, stolen glances getting all too much paired with the grasp of his finger around yours. “Have you opened yourself up to the idea of marriage, Benedict?” You ask though you do not wish to know the answer. Some strange ache spreads through your chest at the thought of him marrying someone.

He visibly tenses and shakes his head. “No. No, I wish to focus on my art. Improving it, getting ahead in the academy. No time for… marriage right now.” He nods, clearing his throat and quickly returning his gaze to his brother. You nod, something about his vehement denial of the idea of marriage making you calm slightly. “It is quite suffocating. The idea of having to give your whole heart to a person with the risk that they break it. Then you would be… stuck.” You whisper and he looks down at you.

“You believe so?” He asks, his brows knitting together. You look up and nod. “I… what if the person changes once you make your vows? What if they hurt you? I find it terrifying.” You admit. “You do not?” You ask and he shakes his head. “No. I find the risk all the more romantic. If you find someone who truly makes your heart swell, someone who you find you cannot breathe without, who plagues your mind day in and day out, would it not be worth the risk?” He asks and you cannot respond. 

“Finding a woman that makes you feel as though you have discovered the reason behind why poets speak of love so greatly, the way that artists paint the feeling so vividly, is well worth the risk to me. It is what makes life so exciting, finding your person. Your reason.” He finishes, and your heart is practically hammering out of your chest. “That is a very beautiful outlook on love, Benedict.” You manage to whisper back, and he smiles. “It is the naive artist in me.” He whispers back, his tone right back to playful and you nod, smiling to yourself. Whoever Benedict marries is a lucky woman, you decide.

Soon, Penelope and Colin part ways and you are forced to let go of Benedict’s pinky. With a quick curtsy to the Bridgerton brothers, you lead Penelope into the entryway where you wrap her shawl around her shoulders. You curtsy once more to the footman before walking the young debutante back home.

She speaks of Colin the whole way back and for the rest of the afternoon. You find it endearing, the amount of love she holds for the young man. She has never once admitted it outright, but it has always been quite clear to you in the way she speaks and looks at him. Your heart used to break for her when she would come crying to you about the things she overheard him say about her, but recently that has all changed. They are both clearly in love. 

It makes you think of what it would feel like, to be a young debutante in love. To have all of the dresses in the world, to have your every wish only an arm's length away, to have your every need catered to. You had concluded long ago that love was a privilege, just as happiness and comfort. After all, you never saw any of those things in the neighborhood you grew up in. Not in the families you were surrounded by, and certainly not in your own.

Your father worked in a factory and your mother, though she would never admit it, was a prostitute. When your father reached the age of forty-five, the factory laid him off on the claim that he was getting too old and slow to keep up with the children. That is when your father began drinking. You were about ten and seven at the time, and you had picked up a job under a modiste in town where you met Genevieve. Every night when you would return home you would find your father screaming drunken insults at your mother. Drunken insults turned into drunken actions that he would swear would never happen again, and one day your mother stopped coming home from her nights on the streets.

Then, when you would come home, your father would yell at you. The minute he even hinted at being physical with you, you packed your bags and never looked back. Happiness and love were dead, a silly idea that only people with money could have. You spent another three years living with Genevieve before the job at the Featheringtons was presented to you. You accepted Lady Featherington’s offer gratefully and have been working as a lady’s maid for Penelope ever since. The only person who knows the full story of your past is Genevieve, as transparency is another comfort only granted to those with money. Who knows what would be said about you if you openly admitted that your mother was a lady of the night?

“How do you know Benedict, Y/N?” Penelope’s voice snaps you out of the trance you had been in while brushing her hair out before bed. Your blood runs cold. Had she overheard your conversation? “Whatever do you mean, my lady?” You ask, playing dumb. She snorts and smiles knowingly. “You were talking with him like you had known him your whole life, not to mention the way the both of you were looking at each other.” She says.

“My lady I-” You start, trying to think of any excuse to explain the way you were speaking to Benedict, but she quickly interrupts. “Y/N, you know that whatever you share with me shall be kept with me. I promise.” She says with a comforting smile and you chew on your bottom lip, deciding if you want to tell her the full truth or the half-truth. You quickly decide that there is no point in lying, as you are quite terrible at it. 

“We met at a party a few weeks ago.” You whisper as your cheeks turn pink. She turns, making your hands fall to your side. “Really? My God! He is handsome, is he not?” She says with a grin and you smile shyly. “He is indeed, my lady.” You agree and she laughs. “Have you met with him? Has your friendship grown?” She asks and you nod. “I do. I meet with him whenever I am able.” You reply and she nods. “You deserve something wonderful, Y/N. Perhaps he could-” She starts but you shake your head. “It is nothing like that, my lady. I am quite content with my life here, working for you. I see no need in chasing something I am not allowed to have.” You say and her face falls. She nods understandably nonetheless, turning back to the mirror so you can continue to get her ready for bed, the idle conversation turning to one of the books she has read recently.

You make your way down to the servants' quarters after making sure Penelope has everything she needs for the night. As you walk past the other servants one of the other maids stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Grace, what is it?” You ask and she grins. “You have a letter, Y/N. A young man snuck it in while you were taking Penelope shopping this afternoon.” She says with a knowing smile, passing you a small letter.

“Thank you.” You hum before making your way to your small bedroom. You walk in and shut the door behind you, lighting the candle on your desk. “Meet me at midnight, where the world sleeps and the stars whisper secrets. Let us share a moment under the moon's gentle gaze, just you and me, lost in each other's embrace. B.B.” You grin at his somewhat sloppy handwriting, tucking the note away in the lockable drawer in your desk before getting ready to go to his townhouse. 

You pin your hair up and put on one of Genevive’s more risque creations, made just for you. A gift for your nineteenth birthday that you have never had a use for until now. It is a baby pink, almost seethrough material that hangs loose on your body. However, it hugs the assets that you find Benedict likes the most. You cover it up with a cloak to walk and slip on your stockings and shoes before making your way out of the Featherington estate.

He had thought of nothing but you since you arrived at his home, even now as he paints in the small drawing room of his townhouse his thoughts are plagued by you. He is trying to be patient, but he wants nothing more than to run to the Featherington residence and have his way with you. His grip on the paintbrush in his hand tightens as his thoughts turn to the way your body moves when you are in his bed. The way his thighs feel hitting yours when he is buried to the hilt inside of you, the noises he draws from your perfect cunt, the way your breasts bounce when you are on top of him. 

He groans and drops the paintbrush, burying his head in his hands as his trousers become tighter. He closes his eyes and jiggles his leg, trying to take his mind off sex. How humiliating would it be if he answered the door with his cock fully hard already? He groans and runs a hand through his hair, standing up and moving to the sofa so he can take care of the problem himself. He leans back and unbuttons his trousers, letting his cock spring free against his clothed stomach. 

He sighs and spits on his hand beginning to stroke himself to the thought of you. Your face when you reach your peak, the way you moan when he drinks from your body, how your lips wrap around his cock as your eyes look up into his, always so eager to please. He moans at the thought of your perfect breasts pressed against his chest, your nails dragging angry red marks into his back as he fucks you so hard his hips leave marks on your pelvic bone.  God, he wants nothing more than to mark you as his for the rest of the world to see. He wants to parade you around all of London completely naked and on all fours. 

You smile to yourself as you walk to the back entrance, deciding to surprise him. You are happy to find the back door unlocked and you let yourself in, expecting him to be in the drawing room sat in front of a canvas. You hang up your cloak and seak deeper into the home, making sure your bare feet touch the cold wood as quietly as they can. 

You freeze when you hear a loud moan from the drawing room, your heart dropping to your feet. Surely he does not have another woman here, you thought that you had made your boundaries quite clear when he made you his mistress. You did not want to fuck him after he had just fucked another woman, the thought made your stomach roll over with disgust. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you peek inside the drawing room, your lips parting when you are presented with a very much-alone Benedict stroking his cock on the sofa.

Heat pools in your core as your eyes lock in his hand, moving up and down quite quickly. The tip is already an angry red, dripping with hints of his arousal. You take a deep breath and make your way into the room as quietly as you can, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning when he lets out a very breathy, and wanton, “Y/N.” You drop to your knees in front of him, pressing a light kiss to his knee in hopes of not startling him too much.

His eyes shoot open and his hands automatically go to cover himself. You laugh at his startled expression and he sighs in relief, moving a hand down to cup your cheek. “How did you get in?” He breathes, running his thumb along your cheekbone. You hum and lean into his gentle caress. “You left the back door unlocked. So irresponsible, Bridgerton.” You murmur and he chuckles, the deep sound making your thighs all wet and sticky. 

“Perhaps I was being hopeful.” He whispers back and you smile. “You have not commented on the dress I have on. I worked so very hard to look good for you.” You tease, jutting your lip out playfully. He rolls his eyes and gestures for you to stand, making you giggle as you do. “Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He grunts, placing his hands on your hips. You swat them away and he huffs in frustration. “Do not pout, I want to please you. Please.” You whisper and all of his resolve suddenly disappears.

He watches as you sink back down onto your knees between his legs, slowly slipping his trousers off. Once his legs are bare, you begin to pepper the inside of his thighs with wet, open-mouthed kisses. He groans and slides a hand into your hair, making the pins fall out. He plays with your curls and grips as you press a kiss so very close to his twitching cock, his reaction making you smirk. 

Without warning you take his tip into your mouth, sucking on it like an ice lolly. He groans and rolls his head back, his hips bucking up as he grips your hair to try and push you onto his cock. You allow him to guide you, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as your nose gets pressed into his pubic hair. You look up at him just as he looks down at you, a cocky smirk plastered across his face as he begins to thrust into your mouth. The action makes you moan, your hand sneaking between your legs to soothe the ache that has settled there. 

You whine and grind down onto your fingers, the vibrations making him grunt and stall. You gag and tap once on his thigh, pulling off of him when he lets go. Drool dribbles down your neck and between your breasts as you pant, looking up at him with glassy eyes. He curls his fingers around your chin and leads you up onto your feet. “So perfect.” He whispers as his hands find their way to the soft flesh of your rear. He squeezes and you gasp, moving to straddle him as if on instinct.

He hums and presses a kiss to your lips as he begins to undo the ribbons on your dress. The fabric falls and he lifts your hips, his lips still locked with yours. He throws the dress somewhere across the room and his hands come to your waist, moving you so you are lying flat on the sofa. He breaks the kiss only to lick a stripe down your neck as your legs wrap around his waist. He hums and bites your collarbone as his fingers plow through your folds, making you cry out loudly. He smirks and rubs his thumb around your clit, slipping one long finger into your entrance. 

Your eyes roll back as his finger curls into that spongey spot he somehow knows how to find right away each time. He adds another finger and begins to twist, slowly getting your body ready for him. You pant hard and crowd a hand into his thick hair, tugging him up from your neck so you can steal a sloppy kiss full of tongue and tooth. You whine when the feeling of his fingers disappears and buck your hips up into his, silently begging for whatever he wants to give you.

He parts the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, his tip nudging your entrance. You whine and close your eyes, at which he grips your chin. “Look at me while I fuck you, Y/N. You know the rules.” He breathes and your eyes snap open. He grins and buries himself completely inside of you with one thrust, making you cry out as he grunts. “Fuck. Fuck, you… God. So tight.” He breathes, beginning to pound into you at a brutal pace. You grip his arms, your mouth hanging open as loud moans and whines slip past your lips beyond your control.

He pounds into you, your nails dragging down his back with every thrust. His hands press down onto your hips so hard you are sure that his fingerprints will be embedded in your skin. He revels in the slick noises he draws from your cunt, sucking a mark on your chest where he knows it will not be seen. The sound of thighs meeting thighs fills the small space, the smell of sex making your mind foggy. His pelvis slams against your clit with every thrust, making an utterly intoxicating feeling of pain and pleasure wash over your body as he fills you to the brim.

He is so close already, what with palming himself and a quick suck from you. He presses his head into the crook of your neck and bites down, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. His hand sneaks between both of your bodies and his thumb finds your clit, circling fast so that he can get you to where he is. It works wonderfully and your cunt clenches around him ad you call out his name. He pulls out quickly, spilling himself on your stomach as his fingers take you to your climax. A pinch to your clit takes you over the edge, seeing stars and babbling nonsense about how good he is as you do. 

He lifts himself off of you and cuddles into your side, making you smile. He peppers your shoulder with kisses and you laugh. “Stay?” He whispers after a moment of nothing but kisses and the sounds of your breathing. Your cheeks heat up at the adorable, hopeful expression that crosses over his face. “Mmm. I think I can, Mister Bridgerton.” You tease, flipping him onto his back and crawling over him. “Jesus Christ. You are utter perfection.” He whispers, claiming your mouth again.

Perhaps, love is not that far away.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton/reader #oneshot #smut #fic #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton oneshot #benedict bridgerton x you #fanfiction #smut fanfiction #18+ only #18+ content #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton smut #bridgerton oneshot #infatuation #benedict bridgerton series

[daceydeath]

Biggest Flex

Pairing: Seonghwa x Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Mafia Romance, Smut

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Alcohol, Violence, Explicit Content

Park Seonghwa is a traditional mafioso so there are only a few rules that apply to those around him. Do not disrespect him, his organization or what he considers his.

“I'm here with someone, sorry” you repeated as politely as you could, it was probably the fourth time you had said the same thing and the dip shit was still talking to you trying his luck.

“Well he ain't here beautiful so how about you and me…” he started a cocky grin still on his face before you interrupted him again.

“I'm here with someone and he will be back in just a moment” you sighed, plastering on a fake smile that didn't reach your eyes. You knew there would be some kind of trouble once your boyfriend came back but only if you couldn't get rid of this absolute moron before then. 

“Listen you stupid bitch, your man ain't here so how about you stop acting like a tease and come over to drink with us” he shouted getting too close to your face for you to not flinch back “aw is the little slut scared now?”. He reached out to grab your arm.

“Touch her and I'll kill you, you piece of shit” A terrifying snal echoed across the room. Skirting around the guy who was trying to pick you up you almost stumbled to get closer to Seonghwa who looked murderous. The anger rolled off your lover in such palpable waves, you could almost taste it. Even though it wasn't directed at you it still made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, nothing that happened from this moment was going to be bloodless.

“Hwa” you whispered, sounding loud in the deafening silence that had enveloped the room. Reaching out to touch his arm as he stepped closer to where you were standing.

“Go with Joon baby” he murmured, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles softly “You shouldn't see what happens now”.

“Hwa, he's just an idiot who doesn't know who I'm here with” you continued “you promised me tonight would be just us”.

“I know, but disrespect must always be punished especially when that disrespect involves insulting what's mine” his eyes were still burning with rage but the way he spoke to you reassured you that he didn't blame you.

“Alright Hwa” you nodded, stepping towards where Hongjoong was standing, his gun already on display from the way he had crossed his arms whilst backing up your boyfriend. Hongjoon nodded at Seonghwa before guiding you from the private VIP room and towards the exit, his hand barely touching your shoulder blades. Usually Seonghwa would simply send Hongjoong and some of the others to take whoever he was angry with outside to deal with them away from you but this time he was far more frightening than you had seen him before.

“What's going to happen Joon? Will Hwa be alright?” Your voice showing how nervous you were about what was about to happen.

“Trust me you don't want to know” Hongjoong smirked before noticing your wide eyes and smiling lopsidedly instead “Hwa will be just fine, he has back up with him”. Nodding you didn't feel much better about the situation especially when you heard the first scream and crashing sound making you jump.

“Come on, to the car so you are safe” Hongjoong picked up his pace walking you into the alleyway and in the direction of the black Lotus that Seonghwa had driven you to the club in. Getting into the passenger seat Hongjoong shut your door and took his place in front of your window gun drawn and ready to act if it was required making your anxiety grip your heart like an icy hand squeezing it until you felt like you couldn't breathe. Even though you were outside of the club and shut in the car you could still unmistakably hear the sound of gunshots echo through the night making you shudder and Hongjoon tense in his stance.

After what felt like an hour you saw Hongjoong relax and move from his position holstering the handgun that he had tried to keep from your line of sight. You looked around still feeling anxious but less so since Hongjoong had relaxed, Seonghwa was making his way out of the rear exit door, his black coat swirling in the cold air as he walked over to the car calmly. Hongjoong made his way over to the black Audi sedan that Seonghwa’s men traveled in while Seonghwa smiled at you looking as though he was completely uninjured. He opened the drivers door and slid in beside you, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, his teeth flashing as he grinned at you.

“Let's get you home pretty baby” he hummed, starting the car and letting the engine roar to life. Speeding through the city streets you very quickly found yourself pulling into the gated driveway of his place.

“I thought you were taking me home Hwa” you smiled shyly, biting your lower lip softly making him raise his eyebrow as he looked you over.

“This is your home baby, you know anything I own is yours” he almost purred, getting out of the car and opening your door for you. As soon as you were standing Seonghwa pulled you into a desperate kiss pressing himself against you. 

“Let me show you that you own everything I am” he smirked, making you blush. Scooping you into his arms he carried you into the house, not bothering to even shut the front door, only putting you down when he could lay you on his bed. 

Pulling off his coat and jacket he threw them to the floor, followed them went his tie, waistcoat and shirt leaving him looking glorious in his half naked state. In the time it has taken to rid yourself of your coat he was crawling up the bed and hovering over you. Moving to toe off your shoes he stopped you gently.

“Leave them on baby, I want to undress you myself” his voice turned husky as he pressed his clothed crotch against you letting you feel how hard he was.

“Hwa, I was so worried something would happen to you” you whispered feeling yourself already giving into him.

“I'm sorry you had to see me angry pretty baby” he whispered before connecting his lips to yours, this kiss much more sensual than the last. His lips moved more gently against yours as he swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips and pulled your bottom lip lightly with his teeth. Gasping in pleasure he took advantage by slipping his tongue between your open lips and moving it against your own in slowly making you whimper quietly.

“I forgive you Hwa, I know you just want me safe” you uttered breathily as he began kissing his way down your neck stopping to mouth at the juncture with your shoulder making you sigh. You could feel his lips curl into a smile as he repeated the action making you whine softly and thread your fingers into his hair. Moving back to your lips his hands made short work of tugging you dress down your body leaving you in only your underwear and heels as he sat back to admire you.

“Fuck you're a goddess” he spoke almost revenantly making your heart swell in your chest. Taking your right leg and kissing your ankle and he removed your high heel he repeated the action with the left before undoing his pants and crawling back up your body kissing every inch of your exposed skin in the process. Once his lips reconnected with yours you felt his fingers make their way past the lace covering your core and begin gently teasing you.

“Mmm Hwa” you moaned, lightly rocking your hips against his digits melting into the pleasure he was already giving you. Without moving himself away from you he tugged your underwear further aside and before you could protest the lack of his fingers he started filling you with his length. Inch by inch he sunk into you at a maddeningly slow pace making you arch your back as he bottomed out inside you.

“So tight baby” he groaned gradually pulling his hips back before sinking into you again “you take me so well baby”.

“Ngh… please Hwa” you babbled as he rolled his hips again stretching your velvet walls perfectly. You heard him chuckle breathlessly before he lazily continued rocking his hips into you giving you just enough pleasure to drive you mad.

“Does my baby want more huh? Does she need me to make her mine? Show her who she belongs to?” He teased picking up his pace and walking you moan loudly. He began snapping his hips into you more roughly each thrust hitting the spot that only he could inside you sending you hurtling towards your orgasm.

“Seonghwa… oh my god….” You cried out as the tingle in your belly caught fire and exploded making you cum hard around him, your walls quivering as he kept fucking into you. He growled from somewhere in the back of his throat making your head spin while he continued to pump into your fluttering hole.

“Such a good girl” he groaned, his voice strained as he tried to hold off his own high just a little bit longer, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist to plunge even deeper into you “Fuck I love you so much baby” he moaned as he finally hit his climax filling you with thick ropes of his seed.

“I love you too Hwa” you panted tiredly as he carefully pulled himself from you making you hiss slightly at the feeling of emptiness between your thighs. He languidly got off the bed stripping himself nude before helping you out of your underwear and climbing back into the bed beside you pulling you onto his chest.

“I meant it baby, everything I am is yours” he smiled, kissing the crown of your head.

A/N: Thank you for reading my lovely loves. All your kind support means the world to me xxx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz , @armystay89 , @damnyouficc , @roamingpolar , @tara-skyhold , @bakedlilgoonie , @krishastumblernow , @mrsseals16 , @fawnpeaks , @leeknowinggg @uno7 @tanzen-ist-gold

#seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #park seonghwa smut #ateez mafia au #Seonghwa mafia prince #ateez fic #mafia au

[cowgurrrl]

Sleeping on the Blacktop

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: guys we did it i wrote smut i actually like (ps this was edited but also not reread because I’ve been trying to write it for five hours so if you see any mistakes no you didn’t)

Summary: The Land of No Return [4.7k]

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION, platonic expressions of love, the mortifying ordeal of being known, sexting, we finally get to know about reader's secret tattoos, smut, Joel the Menace makes his long awaited return with that dirty fucking mouth, mutual masturbation, phone sex (??(sure)), protected sex (no Miller babies for them) p in v stuff, June being indulgent with describing Joel Miller, anxiety, I think that's it??

Music floods the kitchen as you and Andie work on making the best "last supper but with women" possible. The lamps glow orange on the walls and create funny shadows when you dance together, pulling each other in and out to old jazzy tunes. You laugh when she throws a string of spaghetti at your fridge to test if it's ready a little too hard, and it splatters water everywhere. You, honestly, might be a little delirious. You're both in your pajamas, and you've been watching movies all day. You exchange what you remember from New Year's Eve and cringe at what the other fills in. You drink cheap wine from plastic cups and snack on chips as the food cooks. 

It feels like high school again, with all the girlish giggling and inside jokes you trade back and forth, except this time, instead of her going back to her house ten minutes up the road, she's going back to her apartment half the world away. No matter how long you get with her, it's never enough. Thousands of miles and different schedules will do that. Keeping long-distance friendships as an adult is just as hard, if not harder, than making new ones. 

When dinner is ready, you fix your plates and sit next to each other at your messy dining room table— the IKEA one she helped you build when Henry walked out with the first one— and eat. Paint stains the wood of the table, and half-finished works are scattered around the dining room, but you barely notice them as you talk. She tells you about the things waiting for her in Vienna: work, her cat, Oslo, and piano lessons. You don't have to pretend to be envious because you are. You have to go back to school and the Real World once you drop her off at the airport in the morning. You wish you could go with her. 

"Alright, c'mon. Spill it. What's going on with you and Joel?" She asks in between bites of garlic bread. You laugh and shake your head.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Bullshit. Tommy told me he saw you guys."

"Speaking of Tommy," you pivot. "What's going on there? You two seemed pretty chummy." You raise your eyebrows at her, and a big smile takes over her face. She takes another bite of food to buy herself some time, but there's no way you're letting her off the hook, especially after all her teasing about Joel.

"Nothing. We were just… talking." She finally says, and you give her a look. 

"Talking?"

"Yes. People talk. You should try it sometime."

"Was it talking like we are now or talking like Joel and I talked?" You hum, and she kicks her feet as she leans forward.

"So you and Joel did talk." 

"Well, we probably would've if somebody didn't come barging in."

"Goddammit, I told him to wait," she groans. "Sorry, girl."

"Yeah, me too," you say, and she laughs. You bump her knee and give her a look. "Alright, your turn. What's going on with Tommy?" 

"Nothing that could actually turn into anything." 

"Aw, c'mon. Don't count yourself out so early."

"It's not counting myself out. It's being realistic. I live in Vienna. He lives here. I'm not ready to come back to the States, and he seems content, so there's nothing that can happen," she shrugs. "It was a fling. A very nice fling, but a fling nevertheless." She seems a little too sad for it to have been just a fling. They exchanged numbers, and you've caught her texting him several times. She said she did kiss him on New Year's Eve (before she threw up), but they didn't go any further besides flirting the next morning. You watched them test each other at breakfast, and he seemed just as interested in her as she was in him. They'd be cute together. She sighs and pushes her pasta around in her bowl like a dejected character from a period piece.

"Tommy is very handsome." You comment, and she grabs your arm, animating all of a sudden. 

"Dude, I've been dying to talk about it. What the fuck are they putting in the water here? It's insane." 

"It's annoying, right?" 

"So annoying." She agrees. You laugh about it together and, finally, give her the details she's been waiting so patiently for. When you finish your story, her hands are over her mouth, and her eyes are wide. "Oh, my God. You have to get him back."

"I know, I know! He's driving me up a fucking wall." You say, taking a bite of food. It will get cold if you don't stop talking, but you also don't care. 

"You could surprise him with some lingerie or something." She suggests, and you groan. 

"God, I don't even remember the last time I bought lingerie."

"All the more reason to buy some." 

"I don't know. I feel like I could just show up naked, and he'd be happy with that."

"He sounds like a keeper then."

"Yeah, I don't know," you shrug. "I like him a lot. I just… don't know if it's sustainable."

"Why?" She asks. You almost want to gesture around your messy apartment and half-put together life as if it will answer her question.

"I mean, he's a good guy, and we're having fun, but for how long? His kid's gonna be in at least one of my classes until she graduates. Not to mention, he has another daughter who is in medical school. We both work full-time. And then there's the whole having to keep it a secret thing. It could get really old really fast." You sigh. 

"What if it doesn't?"

"What?"

"What if it doesn't get old? What if it ends up working out?" She asks. You take a deep breath. "You didn't even think about that possibility. Did you?"

"I just don't wanna get hurt."

"That's a very real possibility. Things could go wrong. He could break your heart. You could lose your job. Society as we know it could come crashing down, and you know what? The sun's still gonna come up the next day. The birds will still sing, and I will still be here," she says, putting her hand over yours. You purse your lips as you process her words. "You deserve nice things, kid. Don't count yourself out so early." She echoes your earlier sentiment, and you smile.

She's right. Of course, she's right. You don't let yourself think good things could happen because you're so focused on all the bad. She's known you for so long she can read your thoughts and know your habits before you can. What a horrifying and beautiful thing it is to be known inside and out like that. 

"Maybe you should've been a writer instead of a musician," you say, and she laughs. You squeeze her hand and sigh as you look at her. "I'm really gonna miss you."

"I'm really gonna miss you, too."

"I wish you could stay."

"I know," she says. "But you need an excuse to come to Vienna, and I need an excuse to come to Austin, and if I stay, we lose that."

"I guess that's true."

"Besides, if I stop making trans-Atlantic calls, I think my phone company would be concerned." She points out, making you laugh. You know she's telling you what she's told herself this whole time. She loves Vienna, but you know she gets homesick. You know she's trying really hard to convince herself to get back on that plane. You don't push her about staying again. You just indulge in her presence. 

"I love you." You say softly, and she smiles.

"I love you, too." She says. 

It means so much more than just "I love you." It means, "I love you, and I want us both to eat well." It means, "I love you, and I can't imagine doing this life without you." It means, "I love you, and I know you have to go." Never any buts. Always ands, because love like this knows no bounds. Not borders, not time zones, not lifestyles. 

You finish the dinner you made and clean the kitchen side by side before climbing into bed and staying up as late as possible to try and get Andie back on Vienna time. In the morning, you drag yourselves out of bed and sing in the car on the way to get coffee, and when the time comes for you to get her suitcase out of your backseat and watch her disappear behind glass doors, you hug her tight and tell her you love her again. She repeats the sentiment with another squeeze and deep breath that tells you how close to tears she is. Then, she turns around and doesn't look back to prove she's strong enough to leave. She doesn't need to prove anything to you. You always knew she was strong enough to do this.

The car ride back is emotional and lonely and tinged with the bass line of Ribs by Lorde, but your phone buzzes as you pull back into your apartment complex with tears staining your cheeks. 

Thanks for letting us meet Andie. She's a really sweet person. I'm sorry she has to leave today.

You don't remember telling him what day she was leaving, but she might've told Tommy, and Tommy told Joel. You smile and text him back. 

Thanks for taking care of us. She only had good things to say about you and Tommy. We'll have to all hang out again the next time she's home. 

And then.

Thanks for checking on me. I really appreciate it. 

Of course. I'm always a wreck when I have to drop Sarah off at the airport. I'm around if you wanna talk. Ellie's hanging out with some friends, and Tommy's on-site today.

You stare at the messages and debate your options. He basically just told you he's home alone and has nothing to do for the rest of the day. And yes, he is probably being sweet and really offering to talk if you're feeling lonely, but you also know how talking usually goes for you two. You smirk as you type out a message.

Just talk?

It seems like he can't type fast enough.

What else would you wanna do?

I think you made some promises you need to follow through on, Miller.

I guess I did. 

Come over and I can do just that.

Actually, I have some work to get done :( maybe next time?

You lock your phone and bound up to your apartment, conscious of the sudden lengthening of time between messages. It's fun to imagine him trying to come up with a response that respects your boundaries but also lets you know how needy he is. He may have started this little game, but you're gonna be the one to perfect it. Thus begins the days upon days of not sexting, but not not sexting. 

At first, it's just messages about how you miss him and wish he was around. He tries to find an excuse to come over, but you effectively cockblock him at every turn. Your response times get a little slower the more worked up he gets, so he has to figure it out on his own. You never would've thought Joel Miller, a man with gray in his beard and wrinkles lining his face, could be such a fast texter, but you figure there's nothing more desperate than a horny man. 

Messages quickly escalate to pictures. They start off innocent enough: a picture of the painting you're working on, but your bare legs give away the fact that you're not wearing pants, a picture of him stepping out of a hot shower, his bare chest slightly red and glistening from the water, a picture of you wearing the burnt orange shirt he sent you home in New Year's Day with no bra on underneath. Then, you get a little bolder. After a quick trip to the mall, you pose in front of the mirror in a short delicate white night down with pretty lace details on the top, the hem barely hitting the tops of your thighs and showing off the large tattoos hiding there. You look hot, and imagining Joel's reaction to you makes you flush and rub your thighs together to get some relief.

It's true that Joel would've been happy if you showed up to his house wearing (or not wearing) anything, but when the photo pings to his phone, he's never been more grateful for Victoria's Secret in his life. His breath hitches in his throat, and he quickly tucks his phone into his chest like someone is gonna come up behind him and see what he's looking at. He's barely glanced at the photo and he's already straining in his jeans. 

Goddamn, he texts back. You're so fucking pretty, baby.

You like it?

It's a dumb question, but you really don't care.

It's perfect.

What do you like about it?

Besides the fact that you're the one wearing it? I like that it makes you look like more of an angel than you already are, and I like that I can finally see those tattoos you've been hiding from me. 

Bingo, you think to yourself. He was able to catch glimpses of the large pieces hiding on your back and shoulders at the art gallery, and when he picked up on New Year's Eve, you caught him staring at them each time. You thought he was following the inky lines up your body, but you couldn't be sure. Now, he's giving himself away, and you're practically buzzing with excitement.

You turn around in the mirror and arch your back, perfectly showing off your ass and the intricate tattoo lining your spine, and snap a picture. It's one of the largest ones you have, and it's also the easiest to hide. Besides, you definitely didn't get it for your own enjoyment. You live for moments like this. You send him the picture and smile as you type.

Like this one?

Your phone rings not even two minutes after he reads the message. You giggle when he groans into the receiver instead of greeting you.

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, baby." He says, his voice so deep you can practically feel it rumble against your ear.

"I told you I'd get you back." You say it like it's obvious, but he just hums. There's shuffling on his end, and all you can do is wait for him to say something else.

"What else have you been hidin' underneath all those little dresses, hm?" He asks. "Tattoos. The most fuckin' perfect tits I've ever seen. Anythin' else I should know bout? 'S your pussy as pretty as the rest of ya?" You didn't mean for him to hear you gasp, but he seemed pleased that he could pull such a sound from you without even being in the same room. Just like that, any doubt or reservation you had left flies out the window. You finally cave and slip your hand down your panties to glide your fingers through your folds. "Am I makin' you wet, sweetheart?"

"Fuck," you mumble. It's absurd how turned on you are by this whole thing. Your fingers slowly circle your clit, and your head gets so fuzzy you almost forget to respond to him. "Yes, Joel." 

"Are you playin' with yourself?" He asks, and you nod even though he can't see you. "Poor thing. I wish I could be there to help ya. I'd have you spread open for me so I can touch you however I want. Figure out what you like and what makes you cry for me." You put him on speaker and throw your phone down so you can focus on gliding through your wetness, your middle finger pushing into you slowly.

"What... what would you do?" You ask, breathless. 

"I'd start by usin' my fingers just to feel you out, and I bet you'd feel so fuckin' good. I'd play with your clit until you're beggin' me to put a finger inside you, and I'd slip two in slowly while kissin' your inner thighs and watchin' you squeeze my fingers," you moan as you listen to his raspy voice and fuck yourself to his words. You try to imagine what his fingers would feel like inside of you. How different compared to yours, how much better they'd feel. Goddammit. "Then, I'd use my mouth on you while my fingers move in and out. I'd lick you all over and feel you soakin' me when I suck on your clit." He says, and you return to rubbing said bundle of nerves, faster this time, as you become acutely aware of his labored breathing over the phone. 

Is he touching himself? The idea of him holding the phone with one hand and fisting his cock with the other sends a wave of heat down your spine, and you keen into your own hand. A shaky breath and muttered curse leave his lips, and then you know for sure what he's doing. Your head spins, and you'd be embarrassed by how close you are just from his voice if you weren't entirely focused on the pleasure clouding your brain. 

"Fuck, Joel-"

"I know, baby, I know," he coos sympathetically. Another lewd moan leaves you as you get closer and closer to the edge, stars threatening the corners of your vision. "Are you gonna come for me like this?" He asks, and you hum in the affirmative, not trusting yourself to form words. "Come on. Let me hear you. I wanna hear what you sound like when you fall apart." His voice is coming faster and breathier, a light growl at the end of his words. How are you to deny him that? 

The speed of your fingers on your clit increases, but it's his own broken whimpers that finally do it. Your back arches as the waves wash over you, and noises you didn't even know you could make escape your lips. You can vaguely hear a broken sigh accentuated by a particularly hot whine from Joel's end. Henry was never as vocal or talkative as Joel is. None of your past partners have been. In the aftershocks of your orgasm, you have a quick passing thought that he might ruin dating for you. You might never want to see anyone else who doesn't treat you like this. You might be fucked.

"Joel," you say when you have control over your thoughts again. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Get the fuck over here now."

Joel's house is on the other side of Austin. With traffic, getting to your apartment can take anywhere from twenty to forty-five minutes, depending on how fast you're willing to go and how many red lights you can pass under. Joel gets there in fifteen. You're still in the flouncy dress you bought specifically to torture him, but by the time you open the door for him, you're much less interested in making his life any more miserable than you already have over the past week. 

He doesn't hesitate to charge into your apartment, grab your face, and kiss you like his life depends on it. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and you open to him, clinging to him as his hands move from your face to the backs of your thighs to pick you up. You squeal in surprise and lock your legs around his waist to bring him closer and keep yourself from falling. Even though he obviously came over the phone at the same time you did, he's hard again and pressing against your bare pussy. He hisses when you grind against him, and his jaw clenches as he pulls away like he's in pain.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asks, wide eyes searching the hallway behind you.

"First door on the left." You say as you duck your head to kiss his neck. He sighs and indulges in the feeling of your tongue against his skin before he finally finds his feet and stumbles into your bedroom. You're halfway through marking him before he lays you down and immediately rucks his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart and making you whine. 

"You okay?" He asks, stopping all movement to scan over your face for any signs of discomfort. You nod and reach for the buttons of his jeans.

"Yes. Just need you." You say. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Joel, I just came from the sound of your voice. Yes, I'm fucking sure." You say, a little frenzied as you pull at the hem of his shirt. He laughs as he pulls it over his head and quickly unzips his jeans. 

"Feisty." 

"Can you blame me?" You ask, and he shakes his head. He tugs his jeans and his briefs down at the same time and unveils all of him to you in one go. He's beautiful. You knew he would be, but seeing the graying chest hairs and the pretty happy trail leading down to his hard cock in between his strong, tan thighs is an entirely different thing. You reach for him, desperate to feel the weight of him in your hands, but he stops you by slipping the tiny straps of your night gown down your arms. 

He carefully pulls the fabric down your body until it's pooled next to his clothes on the floor. His eyes fall to the black lines wrapping around your shoulders, and he draws his eyes to your collarbones and sternum, his breathing stuttering at the sight of you laid out under him. 

"So much prettier than I imagined." He murmurs as he ducks his head to kiss the valley between your breasts. You smile and run your hands through his curls as he mouths at your chest, leaving red marks in his wake and making you press him closer.

"How many times have you thought about this?" You ask. Has he always wanted you in the way you've wanted him? You're almost positive he has. There's no other way to explain the reverence with which he's looking at you. He's so wrapped up in you it's almost suffocating. Every time you glance at his face, he's staring at you with soft eyes and blown pupils. 

"Lost count." There it is. The confirmation. You grab at his ribs to bring him closer, pulling him over you to kiss him slow and deep. Despite the heat of him against you and the ache between your thighs, you both take the time to savor it. That is until his overthinking takes over. "I didn't bring a condom. Fuck, I was in a rush. I didn't think." He says quickly, like he's waiting for you to back out or push him away. You bring your thumb up to the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows and smooth it away, kissing his jaw.

"You think I would get you all worked up to not be prepared? C'mon, baby," you turn the nickname around on him, and he leans into your hand like a cat. "Top drawer." You say. He scrambles to your bedside table and grabs the first one he can find as you move onto all fours while he's distracted. You listen for the foil ripping and the subtle sound of the latex fitting over him. You can't stop the smirk from forming when he looks up and sees the sight in front of him.

"Fuckin' Hell," he mutters. Your back is arched perfectly, your hair gathered over your shoulder, and the tattoo you got done so many years ago is on display for him. "You are so goddamn perfect." He says as he presses his chest into your back and kisses your shoulder. He plants a few more kisses across your neck and back, making you wait longer than you already have, and just when you think you're going crazy, he slowly pushes into you and punches all the air from your lungs. 

He's big. Bigger than anyone you've been with before, and he seems to know that. He rolls his hips, and you moan, gripping at the sheets under you for stability as you adjust. His breathing is ragged behind you, and he groans when you involuntarily clench around him. "You okay?" He asks, his voice straining. His patience and self-control should be fucking studied. 

"Yeah, I'm okay." You assure him, and he nods. He starts to move slowly at first, but when you start whining and shaking under him, he snaps. You're both impatient. Months of following the rules and caring about what other people could think or say tumble out of your heads as he sets a rough pace. You've been dreaming about this and pushing it away since he walked into your classroom that day, and now that it's happening, you can't hide how desperate you are for him. You cry his name as he fucks into you deeply, no part of your bodies not touching, but it's still not close enough.

"You're so fuckin' good for me, baby. Jesus fuck," he moans into your ear, his uneven breaths echoing into your skull. "You feel so good." 

He sits back and brings you with him, changing the angle and forcing him deeper inside of you as his hand snakes around your waist and dips to play with your clit. You curse loudly and dig your nails into his forearm as bright pleasure courses through your veins. "'M gonna come if you keep doing that," you warn, your voice high and strained as he adds a little more pressure. 

"C'mon, honey, come on my cock for me. Please, I want it." It could be the slight whine in his voice or the fact that he's begging you for it, or the fact that the tight circles he's rubbing into your clit are making you see stars, but you come hard. You rely on him to hold you upright as he fucks you through your high, the slick between your thighs growing as his own orgasm washes over him, and he moans directly in your ear, an unexpected but not unpleasant gift. You think you could get off again just to the sounds he makes when he's coming. 

You stay like that for a second, wrapped up in each other and breathing hard with him still inside you, before he finally finds the courage to slip out of you with only a tiny pained moan. He carefully guides you onto your back, your bones jelly, and kisses your cheek before he pads off to the bathroom to throw away the used condom. 

It's quiet again in the apartment, but it's not lonely anymore. He makes himself at home in your space, asking if he can get water and snacks from your kitchen and walking around naked as the day he was born. "I wanna make sure you've got enough energy for round two." He says, making you laugh.

"Are you finally gonna make good on your promise to take your time with me?" 

"Fuck yeah." He says, coming back to kiss your lips one more time before walking to the kitchen. It's like if he goes a few minutes without tasting you, he can't function, or at least, that's what he makes it seem like. You're more than receptive to the attention and can only watch as he walks around. Your trust in your legs is not strong enough to get up just yet. 

In the domestic silence, it would be easy for your mind to run rampant with rogue thoughts and anxieties, but when Joel returns to the bedroom with snacks, bottles of water, and those stupidly sweet eyes, they get pushed to the back burner. He gets under the covers and pulls you into him, his warm body grounding you to this moment and not letting your thoughts stray. He presses kisses to your hair and your face every so often as you talk about everything and nothing. 

Somehow, it feels natural, like you've been doing this the whole time or like everything was leading up to this. Maybe it was. Still, you'll need to talk about this. You know you will.

Just... not yet.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01

#hippies and cowboys #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller series #joel miller smut #tlou au #the last of us au #joel miller au #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller the last of us

[bagopucks]

A. Matthews - You’re Mine

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): Big feelings and minor swearing

IT IS A SINLEREADERUPDATE

—————————————

His glasses crooked, his reindeer pj’s all wrinkled, hair pulled back into a ponytail. Auston had never looked more attractive. Domesticated. At home. The stripes on his pjs matched the ones on Hudson’s, as did the reindeer on the chest. We all matched.

Christmas was a special time of year. One I had always cherished with my family. It was important to maintain that closeness, and especially important to include Auston. The Eve of my favorite holiday I’d always spent with my family, watching movies eating fresh cookies, and drinking cocoa.

As a group, we’d already made the cookies. Auston was busy prepping the cocoa while I pulled the last batch from the oven. Hudson sat on the island counter, holding onto a stuffed snowman that Auston had gifted him the previous morning.

I told Auston not to spoil him, but I made an exception to ‘Christmas week’. Auston had a small gift for Hudson every day thus far. Monday was a jersey of Hudson’s favorite hockey player. Tuesday was special Christmas tree gummies and a new Christmas movie DVD. Wednesday was an evening at the local skating rink downtown in the city. I set the pan down and rubbed a fresh bruise at the memory. Thursday was the new stuffed animal. Friday, tonight, was the only gift Auston refused to inform me about. But Hudson had a gift of his own to give Auston anyhow. I had a feeling it was going to be a very memorable Christmas Eve.

Pulling the oven mitts off and gently smacking Auston’s arm with one, I chuckled. It earned the laughter from both boys.

Auston flashed me a smile and pressed a kiss to the side of my head before turning toward Hudson with a fresh cup of cocoa.

“It’s hot, bud. Be careful, okay?” I had grown to admire how well the boys began to communicate with looks and nods. Hudson gave a simple indication that he understood and Auston handed the cup over.

“Is it time for movies?” Hudson asked, setting his mug down in a slow and shaky manner.

“Ah, I think Auston has one last surprise first.” I glanced toward the man holding his own mug between his hands. “Right?”

“After movies.” This was a new routine. I was taken by surprise but I agreed anyhow.

“Aw man! Please, Aus! Presents first! I have something too!” Hudson scooted toward the edge of the counter, and Auston quickly picked him up.

“No can do. You have to wait for this one, it’s extra special.”

“Can I have a hint?” Hudson gripped Auston’s shoulders and tried to shake him.

“Only if I get a hint on your gift.” Auston teased, only to be met with an immediate no.

“It’s a surprise I can’t!”

“Same here!”

I rolled my eyes with a smile, “come on boys. Let’s set up the movie.” I waved a hand over my shoulder before walking into the living room, hearing Auston’s heavy steps following.

After Hudson picked a film, and Auston gathered the cookies on a plate, we got situated on the couch. I could tell early into the movie that Hudson could barely focus. What I couldn’t tell, was whether he was excited about the gift he’d give to Auston, or the one he’d be receiving. A few bathroom breaks were taken, that ended up making the movie around three hours. By the end, Auston and I began cleaning while I told Hudson to go grab his gift.

“Auston, listen..” I rinsed the cookie plate off and set it in the dishwasher. “Hudson got you a pretty serious gift.. and- if you don’t like it I just need you to- I don’t know.. just don’t-“ I ran my hands down my face, feeling a pair of hands on my arms.

“It’s okay.. whatever he got me I’m gonna love.” He pulled me into a hug. “And.. he might need a little help understanding my gift too.. so- I could use some backup when he opens it.” I tried to push aside my own anxieties, nodding to assure my partner I would be there to help him and Hudson.

While Auston pulled the last ‘Christmas Week’ gift from its hiding spot beneath the tree, Hudson came down the hall from his room with a horribly wrapped box in his hands. Both boys looked equally nervous, and I… I had no clue what I felt. Excitement? Ambition? Anxiety?

“Alright, who goes first?” I asked softly as the boys sat down by the tree, presents in front of one another like a Mexican standoff. I giggled when they stared one another down.

“You wanna open mine first, Hudsy?” Auston pushed the bag in Hudson’s direction. The boy hesitated, then shook his head.

“Same time.” Hudson decided. Auston nodded. Hudson handed his own gift toward Auston, and I watched as the nervous boys began meticulously unwrapping their presents.

Hudson grabbed the handles of the bag, dragging it closer before he picked it up and set it in his lap. Hudson pulled the tissue paper out, over his bag while Auston worked on tearing wrapping paper from his box. Peeking in to find paper, Hudson’s brow furrowed. “What is this?” I could see Auston drawing in a heavy breath as Hudson drew out the papers, the little boy squinting at them in confusion. Auston kicked the wrapping paper from his own present aside before opening the box. He was met with the same papers that Hudson was. It took Auston far less time to figure out what his gift was.

“Mom!” Auston and I were both startled by my son’s outburst. Hudson shot up from the floor, turning toward me. For a moment I thought I would be the first to receive some form of reaction from my son, but Auston stole the moment with a wide grin as he too rose from the floor. Auston’s arms swooped out like eagle’s wings, wrapping my son up in a tight embrace. “I’m getting adopted!” Hudson shouted, his words muffled against Auston’s chest. I felt shock, then understanding of Auston’s nerves. Then I felt a jolt of excitement. My boys chose one another.

“Aus.. are those..” I had to ask, just to be sure. But I could barely get the words out of my mouth.

“Adoption papers.” Auston finished my sentence. I felt a pang in my heart. My boys knew each other better than I thought. Auston finally released my son, and Hudson couldn’t help but jump up and down, his grip so tight he crinkled the papers in his hands. Good thing we had two sets.

“I have a dad..” Hudson cried. Despite all the times I felt like a horrible parent, I finally felt like I had gotten one thing 100% correct. The most important thing. A father for my child. I finally stood from the couch to join my boys. I wiped a tear from Auston’s cheek, shaking my head as my son clung to my legs. “So this was your big surprise?” I whispered.

“Of course.” Auston and I both looked down when Hudson lifted his head, his eyes red and cheeks wet.

“I love you, Auston.” Hudson sniffled. He hesitated. “Dad.”

“God damnit,” Auston muttered as tears fell down his cheeks. He had not expected himself to get so emotional. I swatted at Auston’s shoulder. “God…” he mumbled. “I love you too, Hudsy.” Auston leaned over to poke Hudson’s sides, earning a giggly rise from the boy. “And now you’re mine!” He exclaimed before lifting Hudson into the air. My eyes grew wide as I watched Auston immediately take off down the hall.

“Ours!” I corrected through laughter, chasing after my boys.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #ella’s thoughts #ella’s updates #auston matthews blurb #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews #singlereaderseries #singlereaderfic #ella’s followers #ella’s inbox

[bratzforchris]

Can we get Matt x little!fem reader? And she’s been having a tough day and she’s finally comfortable enough to start sleeping into little space because Matt’s there? 🤍

Sleepy Baby

Summary: Above!

Pairing: Matt x little and feminine!reader

Warnings: Mentions of childhood trauma

Word Count: 993

A/N: Thank you for the request! This was actually so cute 🎀🧸 As always, age regression is nonsexual and innocent. Hate towards myself/my readers/my works will be blocked--if you don't like it, don't read it! Enjoy<3

Despite only having been together for a few months, Matt was arguably a blessing from the universe. Being your first boyfriend, you had been slightly scared about how he would treat you, especially when you told him about some of the trauma you had experienced at a young age that had caused you to be slightly averse to relationships. However, the brunette had been nothing but accepting, always cuddling you, kissing you, reassuring you, and overall making sure that you felt loved. Even when you two had to have the difficult conversation regarding your regression and why you did it, Matt had been nothing but open and loving with you. 

The way Matt learned of your regression was purely an accident. He would never snoop through your private belongings. Rather, he had been looking for one of his hoodies that had been missing for a month now. He finally found it in your corner of the shared closet, and when he had retrieved it from the floor, a pacifier, teether, and bottle fell out. His first thought was that you were pregnant and had yet to tell him, but upon inspection, the pacifier was much too large for an infant. 

Always being open to conversations and problem solving in your relationship, Matt had simply asked you about the things with a gentle look on his face. Despite your tears and panic over how your boyfriend now viewed you, you went on to explain that you reverted to a younger headspace to cope with your childhood trauma and usually to escape the anxiety of adult life. Though the age varied, your littlespace was around that of a two to a four year old. Matt had been soft with you the entire time, promising that he still loved you just the same and that he was happy you were healing and coping in a healthy way. He had even offered to be your caregiver, but you simply shook your head, cuddling into his side. As much as you adored Matt and his love, regressing around someone else was a step you weren't quite ready for. 

It had been about three months since the conversation with Matt, and you still hadn’t slipped around your boyfriend. He had encouraged your regression by buying you stuffed animals and sometimes even new decorated pacifiers, but he also understood that it might take you a while to share such a large and “embarrassing” thing with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to; rather, you were so anxious about Matt changing his mind about loving you once he saw you actually regressed. You still slipped, of course, but it was never when Matt was home. 

All of that was going to change today, though. For some reason, everything that could go wrong, did. You had spilled hot coffee on your white blouse at work, then your lunch order had been delivered to the wrong office, and finally, you had gotten stuck in a hour-long traffic jam on your commute home. As soon as you stepped in your and Matt’s shared apartment, you flopped down on the living room floor and began to cry. Was it childish? Sure. But you had had an awful day, and being tired and emotional were your biggest headspace triggers. 

Matt came out of his office when he heard you wailing, looking down at you on the living room floor. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked sadly, sitting beside you. 

“Everything!” You wailed. 

“Wanna elaborate on that?” he asked with a gentle smile, pulling you into his lap. 

You began to recount the story of your awful day, clinging to Matt’s shirt as your tears stained the gray fabric. You could feel yourself slipping with every passing second, but honestly, you were too tired to care. “...an so tiwed.” You sobbed finally, fully slipping into your headspace. 

Matt froze at the sudden change in your voice, but you didn’t seem to notice his hesitation. Your boyfriend just rubbed your back for a moment before quietly whispering. “Daddy’s here, honey. I’ve got you. Everything’s okay, baby.” 

The few sentences alone were enough to make you stop crying as you snuggled into Matt’s hold. Unbeknownst to you, he had been reading up on age regression ever since that day, learning as much as he could about how to help you. He knew that gentle words and speaking of himself in the third person usually helped, and it was clearly working. Your tears had slowly reduced to sniffles and little hiccups as you relaxed in his hug. 

Matt allowed you two to sit on the floor for a while, before he slowly stood up with you in his arms and carried you to your shared bedroom. He knew that you probably wouldn’t want to talk a lot right now, but that was okay. He simply changed you into one of your soft onesies that you kept in your dresser, before tucking you in softly and laying down beside you. He continued to hum sweet, nonsensical things to you as he plucked your pacifier from the nightstand and slipped it between your lips. 

It wasn’t long until you were encased in snuggles from Matt, comfy onesie on, pacifier in your mouth, and your favorite stuffie that had a recording of his voice in it in your hand. Your boyfriend knew that a lot of conversations would have to be had after this occurrence, but right now, he simply enjoyed the time with his little one, admiring the way your eyes had glossed over and your lips had a little smile as you yawned. Just before you fell asleep, you said something that made Matt’s heart swell, and reminded him that this was exactly what he was meant to do. 

“I loves you, Daddy.” You whispered as you slowly fell asleep. 

“I love you, baby girl.” he whispered back just as gently, knowing that today was just the start of something beautiful.  

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt x y/n #matt x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #agere #sfw agere #age regressor #agere sfw #agere community #age dreaming #matt sturniolo imagines #matt sturniolo x you

[itsdingdong]

Come Home To Me -Drabble

Pairing: Jungkook x girlfriend!reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Suggestive, Profanity

Word Count:: 1990

A.N: I didn’t specify her occupation. She’s a career woman. Unedited, I might come back to it, wrote it on a whim.

Song: come home to me by Justin Bieber

"I'm home," your boyfriend announces his arrival. It's your last night together before he heads off to serve in the military. It's been a rough few weeks for both of you, especially for him. You know he's not ready to leave, especially at the peak of his career. Not only that, but his career consumed so much time that spending moments with loved ones became a rare luxury. He never had separation anxiety, yet here he is, struggling to leave everything behind for two years.

He left for the gym a little over an hour ago. Deep down, both of you knew he'd rather have stayed and done nothing and everything with you. Sadly, the uneasiness became overwhelming, visibly making him look shaky and pale. You suggested he go out and blow off some steam, and he left to try that.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I'm so sweaty."

"Yeah, okay."

And there's tension. You know it's not personal, but it makes you nervous anyway. You're undeniably going to miss him a lot. No, you don't show it to him because he's already in a vulnerable state. He's been trying to make the best of his solo era before he's rid of one of the craziest highs one gets – fame. You know he's not ready to leave all that behind. How you see it is that it's a learning curve and a point in his life for him to grow and mature. That's what the military does to boys. They take a leap into becoming a man. That's one of the pros you can see. You're as obliged to wait as he is to go, so you stopped whining about it as soon as you found out about the enlistment. He needs your support more than ever, so that's what you're giving him, period. Maybe it was one of the things that gave girlfriends the wife material quality – who knows?

With both of your hectic schedules, it was hard enough to spend much quality time together. When you did, it was the utmost best. Those times made the whole deal worth it. Two tired people in need of love and compassion met in an unusual place and easily fell in love as literal soulmates. Soulmates with little to no time to spend. You just wanted to support him as much as you could. It wasn't like you were never going to see him during the service time, but you'd very much rather have him come home to you, even if it's just to spend the night in bed, sleeping.

Your chest has been squeezed tight since a couple of days back. You watched the V-Live he'd done while you were away, and you weren't happy about it. People wouldn't leave him alone with their uncalled-for negativity when he was extremely generous with his limited time to make people who supported him happy. From stans accusing him of abandoning Bam, his baby, to them following him around – which he got a scolding from you for showing his address.

He's a strong man, one of the toughest you've met. And he manages to stay kind, humble, and polite. Now, shit like this doesn't faze him usually, but nowadays, you're in awe to see how clueless and selfish people could be. They may not see it, but he gets hurt, and they are not the ones to pick up the pieces. And with that mindset, they wouldn't have been able to even if they tried. Despite everything, he did a final live to fulfill his promise. That alone shows how huge his heart is and how much he cares.

When done showering and changing into his sweats, Jungkook quietly joins you in the living room, a towel in his hand, drying up his shaved head. A small smile forms on your lips just by the sight of him. Damn, you're so in love with this man.

"Hey," he says as he drops himself down next to you on the couch.

"Hey," you say softly. His eyes look into yours for a moment, then they drop to the ground. He still looks sad, all puffy from crying too. "Come here. Please." He pats his chest, signaling you to hug him. Seriously, you don't need to be told twice. When you wrap your arms around his neck, he leans back, making you lie on top of him. You stay like that for a minute. Then 2. Then 10. Until you both fall asleep. It's a 20-minute nap before you feel him shuffle under you. You're so comfortable and peaceful in your current position to move or open your eyes; you just stay like that.

"I will miss you so much." The words come out as a shaky whisper. "I really don't want to go." His arms tighten around your figure. You don't want him to go either. It's on the list of things not to say to him.

"I know. I will miss you too, but I promise it'll pass in the blink of an eye."

He shakes his head before resting it on yours. All you want to do is cheer him up and give him all the hope you can for the following 18 months. To make him feel and know that everything will be okay. He's a mess, and you just want to rid him of all the upsetting emotions he's feeling right now. If only you could take his pain and stress away.

"We will all be waiting for you. I will visit you whenever I can. And I'll see you when you're home." If I'm here. You don't add that detail either. It's possible to miss him on his free days depending on your schedule, but he knows that already, and it's not worth mentioning at this very moment.

"I'll go see Bam as much as I can. I'll take photos of him. I know they will too. I'll make sure to visit your parents too." You finally raise yourself to look at his beautiful eyes. The well of tears brimming in them completely shatters your heart.

"I love you." He croaks, trying really hard to keep himself from breaking down. Though you wish he would if he needed to, but you wait and reply, "I love you more."

"That's impossible." He sighs into your neck, making you shiver slightly.

"Agree to love equally then?" You suggest playfully.

"Deal."

There's a brief comfortable silence after that. Your mind quiets down as you enjoy his warmth and strong arms around you. Eyes closed, you listen to his heartbeats as well as his breathing. Thankful to have him.

"Do you think I'll be forgotten when I'm gone? 2 years isn't a short time." He breaks the silence. His words slightly anger you because you know that it's impossible and you really hate it when he gets insecure like that when he has absolutely no reason to. But you know, no matter what, his worries are valid, always.

"Of course not. Who could forget such a gorgeous, talented, wonderful, funny, and caring man like you? I couldn't. Even if you weren't mine, you'd have definitely left an impact. And obviously you did because, like, ARMY, you know? Besides, you're really hot, if I do say so myself. Who could forget this face?" He smiles at your encouraging words as they warm his heart.

"I don't think I'm hot right now."

“Oh baby, how wrong you are. You look so hot even if you don’t feel like it.”

“I think I’m going to cry.”

“Sure, I’ll cry with you.”

“What? No, don’t cry. I’ll cry even more.”

“It’s okay to cry. I know you’re struggling, I’m here for you baby. I would prefer if you weren’t in such distress but if you are, let’s go through it. Together.”

Your words move him. He knows he’s loved. By millions and by the people he cares for the most. You? You’re different. You love him so honestly and care for him thoroughly, he can’t help but to feel extra grateful for your existence. He’s usually a grateful person but you make him thank whoever out there that’s hearing him a little more often. He knows you’re the one he’ll spend what’s left of his lifetime with. He’d marry you in a beat if it weren’t for your no marriage till babies rule. Which he’s okay with. But still, you just have to say the word and he’ll take you to the courthouse. You come second to his mother in terms of peace and comfort he can find in one but he’s okay with you switching spots when the time comes. You’re the safest thing that’s ever happened to him in such a dangerous world.

“You will wait for me, right? 2 years is a long time. What if you met someone?” You appreciate his honesty. Him being vocal about his fears. You appreciate that he doesn’t hide from you. All you wish is for those fears to vanish. There’s no way you’re leaving him. Ever.

“I will wait for you as long as you want me to.”

“I will always want you to.”

“Good. We have a deal then.”

-

“It’s almost 11, shall we go to bed? It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” You suggest. He - technically you too - will have to wake up early. His parents were coming from Busan early in the morning to send him off.

“I’m not sleepy. Fuck, how am I going to fix my sleep routine, it’s seriously messed up.”

“I can’t think of a better place than the military for it.”

He pauses then laughs as it finally dawns on him. “How come I didn’t think of that?”

“You’re so out of it Jay Kay.”

“Mm, yeah. But I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

“Yup. Definitely. Also, we don’t have to sleep just yet.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I thought we’d cuddle a little.”

It’s probably what you’re going to miss the most in his absence at home: his cuddles,

“And a one last ‘see ya’ fuck before I leave?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he looks at you with a glint of mischief and lust in his doe eyes.

Maybe that too. God, he seriously has no shame… he was crying just now this little shit.

To that, you can’t help but to tease, “When you put it like that, I guess I’ll pass.”

“Babyy, please. You got me all excited and stuff.”

He’s cute. A cute guy that makes you smile. Always. Even now you are smiling.

His pouty lips look so plump and kissable. You’re so used to seeing the ring there, that it feels weird now that it’s gone. “It’s a good luck, ‘I love you’ and a please be well fuck.”

“Mm yes, talk dirty to me.”

But you don’t do that tonight when your bodies are wrapped under the sheets. Instead, you just affirm and make love to him like you want to make sure he feels all the love you want to give. Maybe for the first time in weeks, he falls into a serene sleep, snuggled into your chest.

-

“It’s time to go.” You hear someone yell. Time does fly whenever you wish it doesn’t. But it still does fly when you wish it does. You just need to allow it. Your heart squeezes a little but you try to breathe through it. He’ll be okay.

“Take care of yourself. Don’t get cold. Call me whenever you can.”

“I will do all that. I promise. I love you.”

“I love you. I’ll wait for you to come home to me.”

“I’ll come running, baby. Trust me.” He brings you in for a hug and gives you the quickest kiss allowed before turning away to say his goodbyes to his family.

You can’t wait for him to return but as he’s away, you wish him the best and in your heart pray that everything will be okay.

#jungkook #jungkook angst #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook au #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fic #bts imagines #bts #btsoneshot #bts fluff #bts x reader #jungkook fluff