#its honestly a little sad when you consider how little sleep he is getting between school and three jobs ans homework and adventuring | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ivyruins · 2 years

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cold nights and warm hugs | poly nightonion

a/n: I promised a nightonionmc au a while ago and id never lie to you folk !!! honestly, I can't see a relationship between nightowl and onion (considering their fight in his route) but maybe if mc is there they can bring Peace to their Lives. literally no plot, just three people coming home from each's ever changing lives to each other's constant.

also, check out this AMAZING FANART OF NIGHTOWL AND ONION I SAW THIS WHILST WRITING AND MY MOTIVATION TO FINISH IT SKYROCKETED . give them some love !! [my icon is also their art!!].

You stumbled into your small apartment, letting the heavy door shut itself behind you. Leaning against it, you hugged yourself. Clothes damp and clinging onto your skin, you were absolutely freezing. It didn't help how the air conditioner was the first thing that welcomed you home. You silently wished you had brought an umbrella with you that morning.

To be fair, your weather app didn't say anything about it raining. Per se. This morning's conversation plays at the back of your eyelids like a movie when you shut your eyes, trying to bring yourself warmth as you rubbed your forearms.

Your demanding job started at six in the morning, and no reasonable person who had school at eight would wake up that early and risk losing what few minutes of sleep they had. Yet here they were, your boyfriends sitting at the dining table in front of you, hair disheveled after having just got out of bed after you.

Nightowl is swaying by the coffee machine trying to sneak a cup for himself. Though you knew with Onion there there was no chance he would be able to. You also knew they would both immediately go back to bed anyway. It was always like that, and no matter how many times you'd tell them to just stay in bed, and not wake up to see you off work, they'd still be there. Awake at six, just to accompany you.

"My heart can't handle imagining you having sad, lonely breakfasts!" Nightowl had said dramatically. Your other lover rolling his eyes, but you could tell he agreed. "It's alright," he had said. Reminded you. "Its worth it."

A sleepy smile finds its way onto your face, finding the juxtaposition between you, who was fully in formal wear and your boyfriends, who were still in their pajamas under the dim light of the dining room amusing. Onion was on his phone, and if you knew him and his routines, he would be reading the forecast.

"Bring your umbrella today," he says, confirming your little theory. You scoffed playfully.

"It won't rain today, I checked the weather," you exclaimed, proud that you had read it before him. He wasn't having it, though.

"Fifty percent chance of rain is still fifty percent chance of rain,"

"And fifty percent chance of," Nightowl pauses as he slides beside you, handing you a cup of coffee and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You feel his chapped lips, and see the furrow of his eyebrows as he thought of a word, "not rain."

"Sun?" you suggested, and he snaps his fingers. Seeing him like this reminds you of the first time you and him had that drinking game through video call. He acted drunk when he was deprived of sleep.

"Exactly. Sun," he grins, laced with drowsiness, "besides, what kind of loser is afraid of getting a little wet?"

Onion, ever so used to the two of your antics, sighs. He knew the two of you well, though, and he could've convinced you. But maybe for his own entertainment, or to satiate Nightowl's sleepy theories about the weather, he lets it go.

But now you were grimly regretting it.

You take your shoes off, socks drenched. You wanted to cry. It was a long day.

The moment you had arrived at work, your desk was piled. Papers and emails you had to answer by that day dumped by a co worker that was on sick leave, and having decided to finish all the work you had found out you were late for your meeting. Only to find out you had (embarrassingly) walked into the wrong meeting -- and missed yours. You had left work after getting an earful from your boss and was met with a downpour and no way home besides walking because apparently you had forgotten your wallet and couldn't call a cab home was the cherry on top of your shitty day.

You hear a laptop close. Shit, you didn't know anyone was home. Silently, you prayed it was Nightowl. He would at least be lenient. He had a soft spot for you, and you knew if he saw you in that state he'd help you and hide the fact you had came home like that from Onion. But if it was the latter?

You knew you were in for the I told you so lecture. Any other day would have been completely fine. You would have easily laughed it off, shrug and say you'll listen to him next time and brush it off; but today was not.

Prayers unheard, the person you least hoped to be there makes his presence known, walking out from behind the wall that connects the hallway you could stay there drenched in rain that you could've avoided. You didn't want to hear his chiding today.

Eyes to the ground, you hear his footsteps fade and fuck, that hurts. You knew he was disappointed but hearing him walk away like that without even greeting you hurt a lot. Your eyes glossed over. You messed up, didn't you? Shit, how the hell were you going to fix this?

Before you could let yourself cry, a towel draped over you.

Looking up, you can see your boyfriend's gaze on you piercing through his glasses. If looks could kill, your death wouldn't be a mystery. His eyes casted down and met yours, and you could see that he was holding himself back from berating you, and you were grateful for that. He frowned, brows furrowed. He wasn't even trying to hide the concern. You fight the urge to grab his face. To tell him to stop giving you that look. Instead, you bite your lip and look back down.

Carefully, he dries you. Or tries his best to at least. You were absolutely soaked, the towel did nothing but remove the recent moisture that hadn't seeped into your clothes. He calls your name gently, yet you remain avoiding his gaze, face burning. An apology was on the tip of your tongue. He was waiting for it, fuck. Why can't you just say it? You knew he-

He kisses your forehead.

He kisses your forehead, and that was all it took for you to crumple. Like an overflowing dam, you burst into tears, and he holds you close. He stops drying, letting you fall into the comfort of his gray hoodie. He doesn't care about the fact that you were leaving a puddle on the floor, or was sharing the rain on your clothes with him. He just cradles you, rubbing your arms for warmth and comfort. And for a while he lets you cry yourself out.

"Come on," he whispers after a moment, leading you towards the bathroom where you could hear running water. "You'll get sick if you stand there for too long. I prepared a bath for you,"

He leaves you with a final kiss on the top of your damp head, and when he shuts the door, you hear the front door open. Hear your boyfriend sigh. And you could only assume that Nightowl had came home in a similar condition as you.

You smile to yourself, laughing softly. Onion really has his work cut out for him.

You step out of your shared bedroom and head to the kitchen, where Nightowl - who you knew was also fresh out of the shower by the way his hair was damp, and the faint smell of the shampoo all three of you shared hung in the air like air freshener - was hanging his chin on Onion's shoulder as the latter cooked, telling him about his mundane day.

The sight warmed your heart. It was rare to find them not at each other's throat (either seriously, or because that was just their love language), so whenever it happened you always try to savor the moment as much as you can.

The serenity of the kitchen brings you a sense of peace. The soft humming of the fridge and the cackling of the fire from the stove helping you forget about the day you had. Your lovers stand in the kitchen, voices soft as they talk about everything and nothing to pass the time, waiting for the food to cook. You noticed Nightowl was wearing one of Onion's spare hoodie, the latter in a simple white shirt. You didn't wonder why he wasn't wearing his own -- you were the one who was wearing it. The rain continues to fall, washing out the grime and bad luck the windy morning brought. You let yourself relax at their presence.

Domesticity wasn't something you experienced often. The three of you were different, and the only thing you had in common was love for the blooming panic web novel. You talked about it, sometimes. How if you never read it, your lives would have never clashed. How, realistically, you never had any reason to cross paths with each other if it weren't for the text scraper story and the mysterious link to the server.

Onion was a computer science student, and he was rarely outdoors besides going to the library. He dedicated his time studying, being a great role model for his younger siblings in contrast to Nightowl, who was the life of the party; loud, obnoxious, and he loved fiercely. He saw love in grand gestures, public displays of affection, declaring how he loved the two of you every morning when you wake and every night before bed. Whilst your other boyfriend shows it subtly. Quiet strokes of your hair, driving hours away multiple times a week just because Nightowl's favorite takeout place was on the other side of town, murmurs of how proud he was when you try your best.

It was truly a miracle how you three came to be. But perhaps it was a story for another time.

"Hey hey," Nightowl makes his way to wrap himself behind you, "I heard you had a bad day at work, sorry about that cutie," frowning, he places a kiss on your exposed shoulder blade. "Ah... I guess I should also apologize for telling you not to bring an umbrella, huh?" he laughs sheepishly, and when you see Onion grip the spoon a little tighter, he buries his face into your shoulder.

"You better,"

"I already did!" he whined, and you laugh. The sound making both your lovers smile, "but seriously, I'm sorry, cutie. I really should've... listened to Onion. Fuck I can't believe I just said that,"

"You can call me next time, if you need someone to pick you up," Onion says, turning the stove off as he chooses to ignore what Nightowl said. Before the latter could interrupt, he continues, "and that goes to you, too."

The reply satisfies him, and he goes to help prepare the food, "I at least bought some snacks on the way home," he chirps, bubbly as usual.

"Did you? or did you enter a convenience store to shelter from the rain and felt guilty for leaving empty handed?" You chuckle at their banter, walking over to help your blonde boyfriend with the food before he could spill them in his mock anger.

"Guys," you warned playfully, taking the plate from his hands. Nightowl presses a kiss onto your cheeks as you grabbed it, thanking you silently, "Come on, I'm starving,"

That was enough to have them stop, and silently, you all prepared dinner together.

It was surprising how it had become a routine at this point. There were times when one of you couldn't come home for dinner in time and every time that happens you would wait for them. There was never a time you had dinner alone; it was always the three of you. And you had never planned that either. It had become a silent agreement ever since your relationship started.

"I call dibs on the movie!" Nightowl beams, placing the food on the coffee table. It was a Friday, and usually the three of you would settle on a movie to watch during dinner. It was one of those plans you had in lieu of going out because you knew none of you were up to it after a day of work and school, but also thought doing nothing would be a waste of the weekend.

He had chosen the movie the week before, but you didn't say anything. And if Onion remembered -- which he usually does, it's hard for him to forget anything -- he doesn't say anything either. Letting him bounce towards the couch and sink in the right side, remote in hand as he browses the romance category on Netflix.

"C'mere, cutie! help me pick!" he says, arms open for you to slide next to him. And you do, letting him hold you.

Onion joins by your left a moment later, snacks Nightowl bought out of guilt in tow. He settles beside you, arms snaking around your waist, "Anything but Encanto again, please. We don't need you belting into songs in the middle of the movie,"

"He's a good singer," you quip, and Onion looks at you with an unamused look as if that was the problem he wanted to avoid. You remember the last time you had movie night and put Encanto on (for the fourth time), the livelier of the two dancing and singing with the stamina of five horses all over the living room and eventually passing out before the movie even ended

"That's not on Netflix idiot," Nightowl sticks his tongue out, and your boyfriend rolls his eyes. The exchange was playful, and if someone told you that was possible back when you were still talking in the server, you would have laughed in disbelief.

Nightowl eventually settles on a Ghibli movie and sinks back into the couch, leaning into your shoulder as the opening scenes play. The light reflects in his eyes, and you could see the blue skies in them.

You sigh, letting yourself relax as well. Onion reaches over to pass the snacks over to your boyfriend and he lingers, hands coming up to rake his fingers in his hair. You hear Nightowl sigh as he leans in.

Opposites attract, was what you used to believe. But when you looked at the three of you, you knew that statement wasn't always true.

He eventually retracts his hand back and settles on intertwining his fingers with yours. You let him.

There, sandwiched between your lovers, you let yourself relax and forget about the day.

Outside, the rain continues to pour.

#oh to come home after a long day to your lovers who openly invite you into their arms to cry #i love #writing this so much #its 2k of love packed in a tumblr post #inspired by 'nothing' by bruno major ^^#blooming panic #blooming panic x reader #nightowl blooming panic #onionthief blooming panic #i dont know if i should tag them separately so i hope thats . right #nightowl x reader x onionthief #does that work LMAO #blooming panic nightowl x reader #blooming panic onionthief x reader #nightowl x reader #onionthief x reader

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neapolinyan · 2 years

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[volo thoughts with a little sprinkling of appraisalshipping. post contains legends: arceus spoilers under the readmore.]

i strongly, STRONGLY believe that volo has something of an affinity for pokemon. this is half headcanon and half yeah-canon-kind-of-supports-this-a-little-so-i’m-milking-it-for-all-it’s-worth.

not to say that every pokemon will trust him from the get-go, more like his own pokemon adore him. dozens of people have made posts by now like ‘volo has three friendship-needing pokemon on his team’ and yeah! that’s basically where i’m pulling these headcanons from.

volo’s pokemon care about him! all of them do, not just togekiss, roserade and lucario. they all probably constantly try to snuggle up to him and forget that they’re not quite baby-sized anymore and end up nearly squishing the poor man. his gible probably slept on his back at night when it was, yeah, a gible, and then it tried to do it again as a gabite and then as a garchomp and volo just has to wheeze from underneath it like ‘please, i love you, but you are going to kill me’ and it just curls up beside him with a sad little whine. volo probably felt bad for it and ended up sleeping on his back so garchomp can rest its head on his belly.

that being said. volo does care about his pokemon in return, of course he does. he probably blows his salary on things he can make into toys and spends his time serving his team meals fit for a god while he has a few handfuls of rice to himself. he forgets to eat a lot in favor of exploring and doing his research, so it’s fine, right? his appetite’s never been that great, anyways.

i like to think it’s not just his pokemon that feel a trust with him, either - provided he’s close with them, other people’s pokemon and even some docile wild pokemon will be happy to take naps on him, accept little treats, et cetera. he battles in good fun, and he heals up injured pokemon with a smile and no extra charge despite being part of a merchants’ guild.

cue adaman staring at volo in shock because his leafeon left his side and was found tucked under the arm of that slacker of a ginkgo guild merchant. and later on, leafeon wanders off again during the venture to each lake spirit and leans against volo’s leg, taking a quick little nap while its clan leader is occupied inside each cave. better yet, after the two enter a relationship, adaman wakes up one morning to leafeon having wedged itself between its trainer and volo, effectively pushing them apart to make room for itself.

adaman doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

[pla spoilers. angst territory, if you will]

when volo took his pokemon up to the temple of sinnoh, called himself a pokemon wielder, yada yada... i truly think he was trying to emotionally distance himself from his pokemon. he emphasises how the protagonist battles alongside their pokemon, and how he was alone from the beginning; but considering his togekiss, roserade and lucario knowing how he truly feels and evolving due to the friendship he held with them, i’d like to believe that he was trying to create a form of disconnect. he knew that, if he succeeded then and there, he would be erasing the world he lived in and starting from scratch - INCLUDING his own pokemon. he needed to do such a thing for the greater good in his eyes, but he clearly loves his pokemon. so he forces himself not to think about it, and to alienate himself from them.

honestly speaking, i think his love for pokemon stems from wanting to become closer to their creator. he wants to love something like a god loves its creations, like they’re its own children. and then... there’s the perspective that he doesn’t want his own pokemon to feel as lost, as abandoned as he does.

#volo #adaman #volo pokemon #adaman pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #pla #pokemon legends arceus spoilers #pla spoilers #appraisalshipping

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chateautae · 3 years

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maybe i do | kth. II

➵ summary : maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳ part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 10k

➵ warnings : none really, swearing, mainly fluffy and funny interactions, some angst! :o

➵ a/n: and i’m back with chapter two! i really wanted to say thank you for the love and support i received on the first part of maybe i do, it was astounding!! i’m so grateful so many people loved the story and asked to be tagged (all at the bottom <3), it made me feel so motivated to write. if you would also like to be tagged please message me. your feedback is always appreciated!

chapter two : “on my pillow, can’t get me tired”

prev. ↞ || ↠ next || masterlist

Taehyung didn’t remember sleeping anywhere near you last night.

He remembered that even though you willingly agreed to share the same bed, he still opted for caution and slept with the most space between you two as possible.

Though when his eyes fluttered open the next morning, eyeballs burning from the light that bled into the suite, the first thing he realized was that he was not on his side of the bed from last night.

No, he had somehow gravitated towards the center, and as if almost on cue, your slight movement and the sound of your breathing alerted him of your nearby presence.

Peering down at you, Taehyung caught sight of your sleepy head turned towards him and lying on his arm, his other thrown over your torso with you unsuspectingly nuzzled into his side.

Taehyung’s eyes shot open, acknowledging he had succumbed to his habit of hugging something to sleep during the course of the night and he internally panicked. He began retracting his arms slowly, just about drawing himself from you until alarms rang in his head at the sight of you stirring in your sleep.

Taehyung took the golden opportunity to sit up in a flash, having to physically shake his head to rid the image of your tranquil, sleeping face from his brain, crushing the thought that it was kind of cute.

He found himself chanting the same denial from last night, he couldn’t be thinking of such complicated things concerning you when he knew the second he’d step foot inside his home, there’d be a mountain of paperwork ready for him; even more on his work desk.

He had to be thinking about his job, not you.

Even if Taehyung was married now, it wouldn’t lessen the amount of work that plagued his life nor make it any less demanding. If anything, his life would be harder now considering the fact that he had another priority to add to his list, another aspect of his life he had to split his attention between.

He didn’t necessarily hate the idea, just found himself needing to work harder than he already was.

Taehyung sighed heavily at the thought and swung his legs off the bed, rubbing his tired eyes. He took a moment to look back at you, thinking if he observed you a second time he’d be able to piece together how the hell you two ended up in that position, that close.

By evidence of the forgotten blanket half-thrown off you, he could see you were the tossing-and-turning type, maybe the only explanation for your proximity considering he was the same.

He also noticed you slept all curled up, like you were cold and the only warmth you knew was snuggling yourself.

Cute.

There it was again, cute.

Why does that word even exist?

Taehyung discarded the notion altogether and stood to his feet, stretching out his stiff muscles. He made for the bathroom eagerly to begin his day, though not without fixing at least some of the blanket back onto you.

“You don’t have a driver?”

“Not for everywhere I go. I have two hands, I can drive myself.” Taehyung made it a statement to jazz hands at you, showcasing the perfectly capable limbs he was gifted with.

“That’s.. nice, actually. I always see asshole CEO’s getting other people to drive them around.” You relayed as you trailed behind Taehyung, letting him lead you towards the front of the hotel where dozens of expensive cars lined the curb side.

You had no clue which luxury vehicle belonged to Taehyung because quite frankly, he could probably afford every car your eyes caught sight of. It wasn’t until he approached a certain one and retrieved his keys from the valet that your jaw completely dropped, floored.

“This is your car?” You gawked, the sleek design, crispness of its shape and nearly sparkling gloss completely sweeping you off your feet.

“Yeah, think someone like me can’t get a car like this?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow, gesturing towards himself.

“It’s just-wow. Mercedes CLS?” You inquired without really looking at him, inspecting the car instead as you admired its every curve. Safe to say, you were beyond in love with it. Even if you were always more of a minimalist and preferred the average product, there was just something gorgeous about luxury cars that appealed to you.

“Yeah, actually it is.” Taehyung looked at you impressed, momentarily reminded of just how different you were compared to any other woman he’s chanced upon.

How many of them knew car models?

Taehyung was intrigued by the fact before speaking with one of the hotel workers, confirming if they had loaded his car with both your luggage and some wedding sentiments your parents insisted you keep.

Once receiving affirmation Taehyung made towards your side of the car and pulled the door open. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile as he gestured for you to hop in, drawing you out of your stupor. You thanked him warmly before sliding into your seat.

He let you scramble in comfortably before shutting the door and walking to his side, positioning himself in and clicking on his seatbelt. He watched as your expression lit up once occupying the car, face beaming with excitement as you touched and drank in at the high-end features the vehicle had to offer. Taehyung found himself smiling before he licked his lips and straightened his face, igniting the engine and beginning the smooth drive.

It was easy to settle the debate on where you both would be living. Taehyung was an enormously rich CEO who lived in an expensive, massive home while you lived in a measly apartment. You knew it was useless to live separately, even more useless to have him live with you. And so you agreed without protest to pack your things and relocate, begin your move into the house you’d share with him for a lifetime.

The car ride remained quite silent, you mindlessly bopping your head to whatever mainstream song played on the radio, while Taehyung tapped his fingers against the steering wheel or his lap.

You found your eyes wandering to his slender fingers wrapped around the wheel every so often, sometimes venturing to the other one he placed against his thigh. You began reprimanding yourself once you realized with all the staring, observing and ogling, you most certainly had a thing for his hands already.

Fuck.

They were just so big, bigger than what you’ve seen of the average man and it didn’t help that they looked crafted to perfection.

There was just something about the veins that decorated them, his palm large in size as his fingers seemed deft turning and working the steering wheel. His little accessories like a ring or two, bracelets and his watch did absolutely nothing to deter your interest either.

It only increased once you realized he looked good driving, really good. You knew men had this common attractiveness to them when they drove, watching them all focused and effortlessly working the car somehow sexy; but watching Taehyung drive was another experience entirely.

He looked insanely hot, and you felt like throwing yourself out your window for even thinking such a thing. It was another case of you ogling him without realizing until his deep voice suddenly fished you out of your thoughts, questioning. “Did you like the wedding?”

“Huh?”

“The wedding, did you like it?” Taehyung repeated, glancing at you.

“Does it really matter if I did?” You asked, this one phrase seeming to perfectly sum up the misfortune of your life, provoking an ironic laugh even.

“I think it does. A bride should always enjoy her wedding.”

“Well, I didn’t.” You deadpanned, your expression turning frustrated having to remember that one of, if not the most special night of your life had just been robbed of you, thrown to the wolves while you were only left to accept the sad fact.

“C’mon, you didn’t enjoy a single thing?” Taehyung didn’t mean to flash back to the kiss you two shared, though found himself doing exactly so.

You didn’t enjoy that? he questioned in his head.

“Not really, I just imagined having more choice in the wedding.” You answered honestly, trying not to sulk so much. “It’s not you, I just... thought I’d be able to decide things at my own wedding. I’m grateful your parents did so much, but I didn’t really get to choose anything.” You grew more solemn as your gaze fixated on nothing, watching the world pass you by through the car window.

“My favourite flowers weren’t even there.” You said only despondently to yourself, shoulders drooping, though Taehyung didn’t miss it.

“You don’t like roses?”

Your eyes flashed towards him with furrowed eyebrows, surprised he heard your comment. You straightened up before shrugging back a response. “I like peonies.”

Taehyung looked at your side profile as you turned away, finding the conversation turning more sorrowful than he liked. He allowed some silence to linger as you leaned your chin against your palm, boringly watching the bustling streets.

He decided to change the subject.

“So you don’t think I’m an asshole, huh?”

“What?”

“You said you always see ‘asshole CEO’s’ getting people to drive them around. But I don’t, so I’m not an asshole to you?” Taehyung halved his attention between you and the road, glancing in your direction with one hand working the steering wheel.

You thought the question over, “No, you’re not an asshole.” You said simply, distracted by the thoughts that previously occupied your mind.

“I see.” Taehyung pursed his lips. Another beat of silence passed through the downcast air before Taehyung perked up again.

“Is it just the driving? Or do you have other criteria?” Taehyung asked inquisitively, leaning back into his seat as he observed you.

You could detect from the corner of your eyes the way his stance drew attention to his legs, thighs broad as he sat. “I guess there is.”

“Like what?”

You didn’t really know why Taehyung was so curious. You thought it was common knowledge what the stereotypical asshole CEO was like; they were nearly all jerks with horrible one-percenter mentalities and treated people like gravel.

You scoffed a bit. “They’re usually so full of themselves. They act like they own the place all the time, which makes sense at their own companies but not everywhere else. It’s like the position gets to their heads. Even the way they talk is condescending, belittling, or straight up rude to anyone not on their level. It wouldn’t kill to be nice.” You revealed almost too eagerly, avoiding eye contact with Taehyung as you viewed the traffic on the road ahead, remembering he was a CEO himself.

Long story short, you’ve had your fair share of experiences meeting them as you grew up during the beginnings of your father’s company. They were quick to skew your opinion ever since you watched the way they treated your father all due to having a start-up, for simply being small in name or reputation. They acted like he was less than, some even daring to behave as though his company would simply never make it.

It always boiled your blood, left an extremely distasteful image of CEOs and the business world in your head.

And you were certain it all sucked after that.

“Understandable.” Taehyung nodded agreeably. “But you think I don’t fit any of that?” He rested a hand against his thigh, sitting laxed as he spread his legs apart further. This time it was definitely hard to miss the way they appeared, all laid out and long as your eyes drank him in, following up his thighs all the way to his-

“You don’t. I thought maybe since you’re super successful you’d be full of yourself. But you’re not, really.” You snapped yourself out of whatever the hell you were doing, trying to refocus on the conversation.

“Ah, seems like a stepping stone.”

“Stepping stone? Towards what?”

“Towards you not hating me.” His voice came out with a more solemn timbre than you expected, his jaw tightening for a mere second.

Taehyung only thought such a thing because even if he decided you didn’t harbour negative feelings towards him, there was no way of him determining whether that was true or not without your real input.

“I don’t hate you, Taehyung. I don’t.. think I can.” You claimed with poignancy, his statement causing you to reflect on your own feelings about him.

You don’t hate Taehyung, you couldn’t because he did absolutely nothing wrong in this situation. He was dragged in just like you were. You only despised the unfairness of the arrangement, not him.

There wasn’t much to hate about him.

“So you’re saying you like me then, aren’t you?” Taehyung suddenly teased light-heartedly, all smug as his amused eyes flickered to you.

“Shut up, I never said that.” You turned away, scandalized by his remark.

“I’m kidding. But, why do you think you can’t hate me? I pretty much.. ruined your life.” Taehyung internally felt his chest tighten at the words, remembering the exact thoughts from where he stood no less than 24 hours ago, seconds from lawfully marrying you.

“And I didn’t ruin yours?” This time you turned your gaze towards Taehyung, meaningfully. Your eyes instinctively communicated your emotions as they locked with his for a moment, Taehyung all attentive.

“I took away from you just as much you took away from me. We both ruined each other’s lives, there’s no use in blaming each other. That’s why I can’t hate you.” You finalized, crossing your arms and opting to watch the passing buildings through your window again.

Taehyung absorbed your sudden confession with reason, realizing that in a sense, you two were partners in this unfortunate case. Even if your matrimony constituted a forced partnership neither of you liked, there seemed to be a natural comradery in having to deal with the aftermath of that forced partnership.

Trying to accept it.

“I don’t think I can hate you, either.” Taehyung admitted, ending the more miserable part of the conversation as you fell silent. You thought he was done until he decided to bother you again.

“I think you’re still saying you like me, though.”

You turned to him half-appalled before pointing towards the road, eyes narrowed. “Just drive us home, will you?”

Taehyung laughed at the moment and pressed down on the accelerator, internally grinning at the fact you never said no to his statement.

“This is your house?” You found yourself gawking again at something that belonged to Taehyung, stepping inside a luxury home you’ve only ever dreamed of living in. Sure, you lived with your parents until you were 18, though your father was still starting out with his company for most of those years, not exactly owning anything too luxurious until after you permanently moved out.

So as you stood trying to prop your heels off yourself, your jaw dropped at the sheer elegance and high-status look to the interior of Taehyung’s home. You had already done enough gawking at the exterior, but being inside and processing the fact that you were now to inhabit this home for the rest of your life sent another wave of shock.

You immediately observed Taehyung was the type who decorated his home with only the finest, his taste easily identifiable. Aesthetic, lavish, charming. He seemed like a man of utter simplicity though his home said otherwise, showcasing an artistic, exquisite feel you never really expected from him.

“When will you stop saying that?” He titled his head and smiled through a laugh, removing his shoes and slipping into his indoor slippers.

“Right, sorry.” You were still struggling for normalcy, somehow forgetting almost every hour Taehyung’s wealth and only registering it once you saw something that indicated it.

Taehyung sauntered inside and took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of his abode. He enjoyed nothing more than being home, in the comfort of his own space. Especially for someone who worked so busily, he found pleasure in doing the bare minimum at home. Relishing in the feeling right now, he pressed his lips together in a smile before glancing back at your struggling figure, catching sight of your size.

His eyebrows shot up to the sky. “Woah, you’re short.”

“Huh?”

“I think I’ve only ever seen you in heels.” Taehyung informed. “Now that you’re not wearing them you’re a lot shorter than I thought. You’re tiny.” He pointed out as he eyed you from head to toe, processing the amount of height you lost simply from removing your shoes.

“I mean, that’s kind of what heels do, you know, they add height.” You deadpanned, stating the obvious for him.

“Sorry, it’s just..” Kind of cute, he thought, though fought for another response. “I could probably throw you.”

Nice save.

“Excuse me? It’s not my fault you’re so tall.” You scowled at him. “Besides, you’re all height and no muscle, you probably can’t even carry me.”

“Wanna see me try?” Taehyung was already coming towards you with his arms held out and you sputtered immediately, “No, no, no.” you held your hands up defensively. “Let’s just start the house tour, yeah?” you offered a smile for compromise.

“That’s what I thought.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes coyly and turned on his heel, signaling you to follow him.

What you realized strolling through the home as Taehyung discussed its details was that it emphatically represented him like an open book. Even if Taehyung was predominantly unreadable and seemed to always hide a mystery behind his eyes, you could see nearly all of him reflected in his home.

You often found valuable trinkets or sentiments scattered around the house. It seemed like he cherished a lot of things in his life, namely memories or people. It would also be hard to miss the exquisite selection of paintings and embellishments he draped the walls with, all harbouring their own charm and adding to the overall artistic feel of his home.

There were famous works consisting of Vincent Van Gogh all the way to local Korean artists you’ve never heard of, though admired their work.

It seemed as though he selected the paintings himself.

Another large aspect you couldn’t miss were the many photos he kept, calling to question whether they were of his own work.

“Did you take these?” You approached a shelf in one of his grand hallways on the second floor, hand brushing the wooden frame of a captured photo; six men including Taehyung himself posing comfortably, like they were extremely close, backdrop reflecting what seemed to be a trip.

“I took all of them.” He stated casually, hands tucked into his pockets as he eyed the shelf along with you.

“All?”

He simply nodded and didn’t elaborate further as he watched you admire the photos, yourself impressed by his adeptness for photography.

“You’re really good.” You complimented absentmindedly, enjoying the other photos of not only people but scenery, empty streets, candid shots from what looked to be his own little adventures.

“Thanks.” Was all Taehyung could manage, trying to mask the sheer gratitude he felt hearing the first ever person to admire his work; something that wasn’t related to being a CEO or a businessman.

He also felt slightly embarrassed you’d seen a small part of him he usually hid.

Taehyung continued walking down the hallway until he reached the end, revealing what you could tell was the largest room in the house. You were thrown off by just how unnecessarily large it was. It seriously reminded you of an extravagant hotel suite, more like the grandest one among them.

“This is our room.” Taehyung introduced, gesturing towards its interior.

“Our?”

Taehyung nodded “I should’ve told you earlier but I wanted us to sleep in the same room. If we slept apart our marriage wouldn’t look convincing to my two housekeepers. I trust them but I don’t want any information about us getting out to the public, not over my dead body.” Taehyung stated in earnest as he relayed the information, wandering further into the room.

“You really care that much about publicity?” you genuinely questioned.

Taehyung scoffed. “Not me, I couldn’t care less about what people think.” He denied instantly, almost laughably. “It’s my father. He hates bad press, especially concerning our family or the company.”

“I thought bad press is still press, so it’s good.” You suggested as you followed him further into the room, admiring that though large, his room held a sense of comfort to it. Quite frankly, all of his home felt rather welcoming and cozy, surprising of a CEO who ran such a monstrously successful company.

“My father doesn’t think so. Kim Enterprises has always been generational, each of our CEO positions strictly kept within the family. Our name is our brand and pride, it alone accounts for at least half of our success. We’re extremely well-known for our high status, it’s just plain fact in the upper social circles of Korea. We can’t afford to taint our name with petty things like bad press or corruption, our reputation is too valuable.” Taehyung stated this all nonchalantly as he adjusted his suit jacket in his mirror, like it was something he’s grown accustomed to and has known all his life.

You found your opinion impeding his words.

“So you can never just, escape this life? As long as you’re a Kim you’re bound to this company?” You found the concept wildly restrictive, clearly shackling down any person that would run the business and you felt a disagreeing shiver shoot through your spine.

“Of course, why would you want anything else?” Taehyung tiled his head to the side, eyeing you in genuine questioning and your entire being was trying to bite back the desire to correct him, tell him there’s so much more to life than just some company your family owns. Though you opted for changing the subject instead, unwilling to step on his toes and dictate his life when you knew next to nothing about it.

It wasn’t your place.

“Woah, you have a balcony?!” You exclaimed with a simper, eyes flickering towards the curtains that revealed two ajar French doors leading to an open space.

You made towards it excitedly and stopped just in the middle of the platform, enjoying the breeze of the fresh air.

“It’s my favourite part of the house.” You didn’t even realize Taehyung followed you until his towering figure stood directly behind you, feeling his proximity permeate through your body.

You swallowed.

“Why don’t you look at the view?” Taehyung cocked his head towards the railing of the balcony, though you didn’t move a step.

You weren’t about to tell Taehyung you’re terribly afraid of heights.

“I-I can see from here. Wow, looks beautiful.” You perked up superficially, trying to throw him off and changing the subject again. “By the way, what’s our closet situation gonna look like?”

“Ah, let me show you.” Taehyung strided back into the room towards the sliding double doors you spotted earlier. He almost theatrically glided both dark wooden panels open and your jaw dropped for the 47th time today.

You were welcomed by a ridiculously large walk-in closet, enough to be renovated into its own bedroom. You simply couldn’t normalize its size, especially after registering every suit, tie, watch or accessory Taehyung stored in the gracious space.

You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much money lied in here.

“Oh my God.” Was all you could manage, meandering in sparingly as you viewed each and every expensive piece he owned in the room, no doubt of the highest quality designers, finest of men’s fashion.

“You don’t have to worry about unpacking and moving in here, the housekeepers will do that for you.” Taehyung watched as you looked upon in awe, finding the way your eyes sparkled with emotion very similar to that of Bambi’s.

“How will I fit-”

“I specifically made space for you, there’s enough.” Taehyung stated, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He’d resolved a while ago he really would try to take this marriage seriously, victoriously achieve the work-life balance his father kept preaching.

He saw giving up his closet space as the first step.

It was indeed so because Taehyung thoroughly enjoyed fashion. He genuinely adored every suit, accessory and outfit in his collection, though if he wanted to reach this new goal of balance, successfully add you to his list of priorities, then he had to be willing to cut down.

Even if that meant reallocating a third of his exorbitant wardrobe just for you, he’d try not to mind.

“Are you sure? I could just use another room’s-”

“I want to.” Taehyung finalized as his eyes turned unreadable from across the room, locking his gaze with yours and you were only left to look back impressed, his generosity unforeseen.

“Thank you.” You voiced a little weak, still shy by the suffocating nature of his stare.

“Don’t mention it.” He offered plainly, propping himself off the wall. He looked off to the side eyeing the empty pockets of space he left for you, until your voice called out to him.

“Taehyung.”

“Hm?” He snapped his vision back to you.

You wanted to ask him something, more so a favour and you were unsure how to word the request. “Um.. I didn’t want to ask so openly, but..” You found yourself beating around the bush, timid of what his response would be.

“Go on.”

“Um, so it seemed like there were a lot of empty rooms in this house, and I was just wondering if I could maybe.. transform one of them into an art studio for myself?” You winced at your own request.

“I’m sorry, it’s just I had one at my old place and it really grew on me. I would get most of my work done in that room and gained a lot of inspiration from it. I have a lot of art supplies and designed often in that studio, so I need a home for all my supplies and it would suck getting rid of it all. I’m sorry it means I would have to steal one of your rooms in the house, if you don’t want me to then-”

Taehyung couldn’t help but break out into a small grin as he watched you ramble on, shyly fidget with your fingers, so apprehensive of asking him for something and it reminded him why he was so eager to provide you with anything you wanted.

You spent too long trying to do everything on your own, achieve everything on your own, relying solely on yourself. Taehyung could see this all as plain as day, quite enjoying of how he’s never really met someone like you, and wanted you to know you didn’t always have to be so independent.

Especially with him.

“Y/N.” He called out to you with the same honey-coloured tone from last night, stopping you. Your eyes flickered to his, awaiting his next sentence and Taehyung already found himself having a thing for your doe-eyes.

Fuck.

“Of course you can have a room. You can have anything in this house. It’s yours.” Taehyung stated with a degree of assurance, his eyes locking with yours in earnest.

You both shared a look as your lips curved into a gracious smile, biting your lip to contain it. His stare wasn’t so much intimidating as it was merely.. calm. Gazing at you for the sole purpose of gazing, and you found some heat rushing to your face under his scrutiny.

Taehyung seemed to realize he was staring and immediately cleared his throat, turning a little nervous as he began another conversation. “So um, I’m sorry to say this,” he began with unease, almost apprehensive and you didn’t know what he was so sorry about. “But I have work today.”

You blinked. “What?”

Taehyung internally winced at your reaction, hands finding his pockets. “I took some time off for the wedding, so now I have twice the amount of work left behind. I need to complete it.” He informed straightforwardly.

“Our wedding was just yesterday, though, aren’t you tired?” You were only taken aback because you were slightly concerned for his wellbeing, wasn’t he tired from yesterday? You recalled him knocking out almost immediately upon hitting the pillow of your hotel bed last night, snoozing away.

“Maybe, but I can’t afford to rest. I’ll only have more to complete if I do, so I won’t be spending anymore time with you today.” Taehyung relayed the information, readying himself for the even greater disappointing news he’d be passing on.

“Actually, we won’t be able to go on our honeymoon, either.” Taehyung thought it was best to slip in all the bad news, growing more and more unrelaxed as he was unsure of how you’d react.

Though what you said next had him nearly floored.

“Honeymoon? Taehyung, that’s the least of my concerns, you should at least rest a day before getting back to work. That’s not really healthy.” You chastised him as lightly as possible, still afraid to be stepping on his toes when you didn’t know his life.

Taehyung was certain you’d hate having been stripped of a beautiful vacation where you could’ve relaxed in the sun and tropics of Cancun. Your father had mentioned to him you’ve always longed to visit the breath-taking city in Mexico, its clear waters and tropical air as a means to truly get away from your stifling life.

So when he found you disregarding the trip altogether and instead focusing on him, more precisely his health, he was left damn well speechless.

There you were again paying attention to the littlest things about him he didn’t care much for; he still had that bandage you offered him a month ago tucked into one of his pockets, not wanting to use the adhesive just yet.

“I’ll be fine. I’m just sorry we can’t go on the vacation because of me, it would’ve been nice, you know?” Taehyung apologized, feeling genuinely guilty for having ruined the honeymoon. Even if you two weren’t going to travel as some lovey-dovey couple, you both simply could’ve enjoyed the time off.

“It’s okay, just, at least work from home today. Heading to the office would be too much.” You suggested for the sake of the fatigue you could discern on him.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna be home for the next few days since everyone thinks we’ll be on our honeymoon.”

“Oh. That’s.. good.” You nodded faintly, half at the idea you two were even faking your honeymoon and half at the blasphemous energy he had to work after yesterday.

The sleep from last night was nearly not enough to recharge from the antics of the wedding, having drained your batteries for the next few days. You were certain his were drained too; he was half the damn couple.

“I should get going. I’ll send Mrs. Choi and Seo up with your things. They’re probably finished with lunch too, you should eat.” Taehyung advised as he stepped out of the walk-in closet, running a hand through his gorgeous hair and you couldn’t help but ogle at the sexy way his strands fell back on him.

“Okay.” You voiced as you followed him out, watching him near the room’s door and just about to vacate the premise before you spoke up. “Taehyung.”

He stopped in his tracks, peering back at you. “Yes?”

“You should eat something, too.”

Taehyung half-smiled at you with a nod “Sure”, before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone.

And you couldn’t help but kind of like the way he smiles.

It was well into the evening now, bordering dinner time as you helped the last of your clothes into Taehyung’s closet, refusing to let the older housekeepers do all the work by themselves considering it was your own luggage.

You also tried to occupy Taehyung’s room as scarcely as you could with your belongings, feeling odd about suddenly moving in with all your might and changing things around. It just didn’t feel appropriate, like you were invading his space and so you opted for scattering only your necessary items.

“That should be the last of it, Mrs. Choi.” You retrieved your last piece of clothing from the rather soft-spoken housekeeper, tucking the blazer away among the rest. You were satisfied to see not only your wardrobe neatly organized now, but fit just about right with Taehyung’s things.

He was right about space, there was enough.

“Mrs. Kim, please rest. You didn't have to move a muscle at all for us.” Mrs. Choi remarked, genuinely concerned for you.

“Yes, please, Mrs. Kim. We can finish up with the little things. I’ve just finished preparing dinner downstairs, you should eat.” Mrs. Seo chimed in as she entered the walk-in closet, gesturing towards the door.

“Are you sure? I can-”

“Mrs. Kim, you’re very kind for offering your help, we’re very grateful you’ve done so. Though we are Mr. Kim’s housekeepers, we are meant to care for his home and his lovely wife. You need not worry about helping us.” Mrs. Choi stated with an earnest tone, speaking respectfully as she addressed you.

You were going to protest again before you considered her words, registering that if you indeed helped them, it would technically negate the entire purpose of their work.

You bit back your reply as a result, crafting a new one.

“I see, I’m sorry, Mrs. Seo, Mrs. Choi. I’m just.. very used to doing things on my own,” you looked towards the ground. “I apologize.” You almost dipped for a bow until Mrs. Choi rapidly cautioned you, scrambling towards your figure.

“Oh dear, Mrs. Kim! You do not need to bow to us, you’re Mr. Kim’s wife, you are the one who is bowed to.”

“Yes, you do not need to apologize either, we appreciate your help, it was very sweet of you.” Mrs. Seo added with a warm smile, bowing to you instead. “Please go for dinner downstairs, I’ve also informed Mr. Kim for dinner, though I’m unsure if he has made his way down yet.” She added on, urging you towards the room's exit and you recognized it was probably better to listen to her.

Even if all this high-class, status stuff had yet to sink in or make sense to you after being away for so long, you understood there was an eventual tolerance you had to build for it. Just as Mrs. Choi said, you’re Kim Taehyung’s wife now, and that came with a hell lot of status you hadn’t even scratched the surface of yet.

You could already tell it was going to be a pain in the ass.

“I suppose I should. I’ll get going, then.” You smiled graciously at both women, appreciative of their kindness and began vacating the closet. You just about pulled the room door open before Mrs. Seo suddenly came to you.

“Oh! Mrs. Kim,” she halted you. “I was informed by Mr. Kim to provide this to you. He would have done so himself though he’s quite busy at the moment.” Mrs. Seo extended her hand and presented a pristine looking card, black and incredibly sleek in design. Your eyebrows furrowed until you noticed the telltale symbols, almost ominously minimal branding indicating a rare card only those with some of the highest networths in Korea could own.

Your eyes widened in horror.

The Black Card.

“P-pardon?” You needed her to reiterate, there was no way Kim Taehyung was giving you a black card, the same card that was limitless on credit and only exclusively owned by the affluent one-percenters of society.

“He’s informed me this belongs to you now, and that you’re to keep it in your possession.” Mrs. Seo elaborated, smiling through the mental whiplash you were currently experiencing.

“Belongs to.. me? This is mine?” You were still having trouble processing, why would Taehyung be gifting you this? Who’s account was it even attached to? Was it yours and he’s decided to graciously pay all the expensive fees, or worse, was it joined with his own account?

Don’t tell me it’s joined with his account.

“Yes, Mrs. Kim. It’s yours.” Mrs. Seo held it out more outwardly, nudging it in your direction.

Your mouth fell agape for another second before you mentally collected yourself, quickly grabbing the card and thanking her as you made your exit, marching through the house for Taehyung’s unbelievable ass.

Taehyung could not be providing you with this card. It was irrational, simply had to have been a decision he made with at least two bottles of soju in him, right? You didn’t care what his reasoning would be, you were denying and returning this. There was no way in hell you’d accept this card, especially if he linked his own personal account to it.

You tried loosely recalling where Taehyung mentioned his study, logically assuming he was working there. You inspected majority of the second floor, working your way through the halls until you finally caught sight of the familiar wooden doors with glass panels, slightly ajar, light bleeding through.

You made for the room quickly and stormed in without a care, attempting to steady your breathing from all the rushing around. You caught Taehyung completely off guard, having shredded his suit jacket to instead sport the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt, adorning black-rimmed, designer glasses.

He looked 100x hotter than he should’ve.

Taehyung suddenly propped up from the leaned-back position he’d assumed on his chair, expression caught by surprise. “Y/N?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing.

You held up the card and addressed him immediately. “Taehyung, what’s this? Why are you giving this to me?” You huffed, looking at him incredulously.

“The card? For you to use..?” Taehyung responded cooperatively, confused as to why you seemed so frazzled.

“But why, Taehyung? This is a black card, the annual fees on this are insane and I can’t pay-”

“You’re not paying for them, I am.” Taehyung cut in, shutting the binder he was holding and placing it on his desk.

“What? No, no way. If it’s my account then I should be the one-”

“It’s not your account, either, it’s mine.” Taehyung brought his elbows to his desk, hands clasped together in front of his lips. It was now he gave you that same intimidating stare he did back when you first met him, calculative and devoid of expression.

It seemed he did this when he got serious.

“Your account? But-Taehyung, this is your money, I can’t just have it. Please, take this back.” You stepped towards his desk to return the card eagerly, but Taehyung’s firm tone stopped you.

“No, it’s yours. I gave it to you to keep.” His words held this underlying sense of authority, scratch that, dominance when he spoke seriously, resolute. You could instantly tell he possessed a natural sense of alpha male characteristics, enough that even though he wasn’t being harsh or looming, his words and the tone he coated them with held more power than you could manifest.

You almost cowered, but remained adamant on returning the card. It was worse with the card attached to his account, you couldn’t just keep Taehyung’s money like it was your own, it simply wasn’t. Your money sat ordinarily in a separate account on a separate card, which you were happy enough to use. You weren’t going to mooch off of him, it went against every principle that made up your very being.

“This is your money, Taehyung. I have no right to use it.”

“You’re my wife. You have every right in the world to use it.” Taehyung countered with no emotion, or at least any you could discern, uncertain what was running through his mind with only his eyes as a guide towards the answer.

And you knew his eyes didn’t tell.

“Taehyung, this doesn’t feel right to me. This isn’t my money and I can’t use it.” You emphasized more strongly, drawing closer to his desk though halting your actions once he spoke again.

“My money is your money, you can always use it.” You knew he was relaxed, appearing practically unbothered as he leaned onto his desk and eyed you. Though with the intense look in his eyes, his aura screaming for anyone within the vicinity to submit to him, he could easily seem frustrated with the situation, namely you.

And it made you want to crawl into a hole.

“No, it isn’t. I’ve already intruded your home, taken your closet, your room and even an extra one just for myself. I will not take your money either. Please, take this back.” You held out the card more prominently, desperate to have him understand you.

Taehyung wasn’t necessarily frustrated by you, no, he was slightly pissed you kept referring to everything as just his and not yours, that he was the only one considering you two as a married couple now while you still viewed each other separately.

Did you not see him as your husband yet?

He also disliked the fact that you seemed scared of him, or unable to trust him like last night. He could see you fighting back the urge to cower away, genuinely upsetting him you still held a degree of fear and unsureness in your eyes.

Why are you so afraid of me?

“Y/N, everything isn’t just mine anymore, it’s yours, too. We’re a married couple, husband and wife. What’s mine is yours.” Taehyung tried to reason, loosening himself up more to seem less intimidating, more approachable.

“But money, Taehyung-it’s different. I didn’t even want to take my own father’s money, there’s no way I’ll take yours, please.” Pleading leaked into your tone as you lips started doing that thing where they just about pout, emphasizing their plushiness and Taehyung couldn’t help but notice it again.

He started growing frustrated as he removed his glasses, placing them on his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose. It seemed like he was digesting the situation, searching for the best approach.

“Y/N, look. I know the kind of situation you had with your father, but I’m not him. Didn’t you hear what Mrs. Choi and Seo addressed you as?”

You thought it over, unknowing of where he was taking this. “They.. called me Mrs. Kim.”

“Exactly. Even my last name is yours, everything I have is yours. I’m your husband, I’m always going to provide you with things from now on. That card is just one of many.” Taehyung offered his best explanation, making sure his tone wasn’t as serious to sidetrack any fear you still had.

“I understand. But this is a black card, Taehyung, and it’s your hard-earned money, not mine. It feels wrong even just having it.” You couldn’t fight your inner turmoil, you genuinely believed this to be wrong. After spending almost a decade trying to work for yourself, pay for yourself, seldom seeking the help of another, this just left a disagreeing feeling to churn in your stomach.

Taehyung sighed heavily before pushing his chair back, rising from his seat. He made his way over to you where you grew unintentionally defensive, retracting from him slightly as he neared you. He noticed it and pursed his lips, reaching out for your upper arms and taking them warmly, tenderly, waiting for your eyes to meet his before he spoke to you.

“Y/N, do you remember what I said before I kissed you yesterday?”

Your eyes widened having been reminded of the intimate moment, nodding at him innocently. Taehyung witnessed you trying to avoid eye contact and found himself softening.

“I didn’t say that without reason. I meant it when I said I would take care of you. Your father is a different story, if you don’t want to use his money, I respect that. But I’m your husband, and I want to be a good one. I want to give you things.. do things for you simply because I want to.” Taehyung reasoned, gripping you lightly. “I want you to use my money, you’re allowed to use it.” He tried voicing with sincerity, earnestly, hoping he could change your mind.

He saw you still hesitating to accept the offer, however, deciding on a compromise.

“Look, you don’t have to use it all the time. You can still use your own card, but you can use mine here and there. Seriously, Y/N, using it won’t even make a dent on me. I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, use it at your discretion.” Taehyung could practically see your gears shifting, searching for your eyes as he wished you’d understand him.

He saw this as a second step towards work-life balance, only feeling the responsibility and genuine desire to be the good husband in spite of the unfortunate nature of your marriage. He didn’t want any doubt concerning his ability to be a good husband, either.

After all, when Taehyung did something, he always did the best he possibly could.

“Okay, I guess you’re right. But I do have my own money, and I’ll be using that 100x more often than yours.” You relaxed and oddly let him hold you, looking down at the black card that rested in your hand and clutching it to your palm.

Taehyung realized he was still holding you and let go, retiring to fluff his hair instead. You caught a glimpse of his bicep underneath his rolled up sleeve as he did so, and you truly hated you chose a time like this to find him stunningly attractive.

“You should come downstairs, Mrs. Seo prepared dinner.” You ignored your thoughts.

“You go first, I’ll be down in a second.”

You nodded agreeably and turned away, leaving his study. You took a second look at the card in your hand, then glanced around the house as you strolled through it, trying to embed what Taehyung said into the crevices of your resistant thinking.

Everything I have is yours, you reiterated, registering that Taehyung had in fact grown accustomed to the idea of you two as a couple already. He’s accepted it, embraced it, even enforced it now with his earlier declarations and this black card. You automatically felt behind, like you were the tortoise in the race and needed to pick up your pace.

If Taehyung had already come to terms with your marriage, it was only a matter of time before you did as well. Marriage is a two-way street, and if you wanted to make this easier on both yourself and Taehyung, you would compromise with him, accept the true sense of partnership that entailed your status as husband and wife.

Thus was the exact mantra that played in your head as you fiddled with the card, remembering the way his big hands held you.

Warm.

It was night.

You could say it was like any other ordinary night, though that would be a gargantuan lie.

This night was the first time Taehyung and yourself were going to sleep in the same bed.

In your own home.

The hotel suite left you both with your own space and privacy since it was a random, public room with no personality or attachment to it whatsoever, making it easier and comfortable to sleep with him.

So when you emerged from your walk-in closet in a thin camisole, loose pajama shorts and without a bra, you were cursing yourself. God damn you for needing to sleep in minimal clothing for comfort. You’d slept in a loose t-shirt and bottoms at the suite last night since it was a public room, and long story short, it left you tossing and turning more than you liked.

You had no clue prior to arriving here that you’d be sharing a room with Taehyung. You’d expected to sleep in a different one, in the privacy of your own room where you could prance around as you wished and as a result packed your usual sleepwear.

But now that you were left having to slumber with Taehyung, clothes on the more revealing side, there was no turning back.

And what there was truly no turning back from, was when you opened the closet door and your eyes landed on Taehyung’s shirtless, wet self drying his hair after a shower.

You immediately malfunctioned.

Your eyes fell to his bare back, ruffling his wet hair as his plaid pajama pants hung loosely at his hips. You immediately exclaimed and clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to shut yourself up.

You did not expect at all for Taehyung to have such honey-coloured skin. It was like it naturally glowed, a healthy tone that made him appear all the more delectable. It certainly didn’t help that his shoulders were broader than you first observed, sincerely an other-worldly experience when he wasn’t wearing clothes.

You also got an all-access view of his trap muscles, adding to the width of his shoulders overall and when Taehyung turned around to the sound of the closet door opening, gaze locking with yours, you could confirm his neck, chest and collarbones were indeed crafted to perfection.

Taehyung’s eyes widened momentarily drinking you in, not expecting your light sleepwear when just last night he witnessed you in a full pajama set. Not to mention, and he hated that he could tell, but you weren't wearing a bra.

And the camisole did nothing to hide that.

Taehyung straightened himself up realizing you two were practically gawking at each other, resting the towel around his neck as he cleared his throat. “That’s what you sleep in?”

“That’s what you sleep in?” You retorted, arms over your chest.

“Guys usually sleep shirtless, this is normal.” Taehyung gestured towards his own body and you had half a mind to floor yourself. It’s like Taehyung knew but also didn’t know he was hot, knew the effect he had on people though never grew cocky or proud enough to purposefully parade it around.

And it frustrated you even more; he was fairly humble about being a sexy Greek God.

“Girls sleep like this too, this is normal.” You copied him, looking off to the side.

“I was kidding, I only sleep shirtless sometimes. Just get in bed.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes as he gestured towards the sheets, returning to his palace of a bathroom to toss his towel in the hamper and pull a t-shirt over his head.

You wanted to move, feet just about ready to carry you but you never abandoned your spot. Instead, you pressed your lips into a thin line contemplating that sharing a bed with Taehyung, in clothes like this and in such proximity, all held a degree of intimacy you didn’t know you two shared yet.

It’s only been a day.

So when Taehyung returned to your unmoving figure, arms holding your chest and avoiding eye contact with him, he was quick to get the message.

“Um.. if you really don’t want to sleep here, I can give you another room.” Taehyung offered, figuring himself this may be too soon.

“No, it’s okay, that’d be kind of a hassle.” You waved him off. “Besides, your bed looks comfy.”

You were honestly trying to live up to your acceptance that Taehyung was the man you’d spend your life with now, so you’d better start getting use to him. You’d sleep next to him for numerous nights, spend endless days together and share a multitude of things; this would simply just be a first of many first times.

So you paddled over to the bed and removed the covers to snuggle yourself in, the bed’s coolness sending a shiver through you before you hugged the blanket to yourself. Taehyung stood with a smile before crawling in himself, adjusting the covers to his liking.

He felt at peace in a matter of seconds, the feeling of his own bed lulling him into a state of slumber already. He reached his arm out to shut off the lamp on his bedside table, leaving the room pitch dark and only his digital clock and balcony as a light source.

You began to cower a bit in the darkness, thankful for the sheer curtains that allowed the moonlight to spill into the room.

You felt another shiver run through your body when you shifted, realizing you were cold even under the sheets. You tried warming up on your own by shimmying the blanket around more comfortably, but it didn't do much.

You were left lying on the bed trying to think warm thoughts, unintentionally breathing in the constant scent of Taehyung from his bed; his cologne, his aftershave, his body wash all filling your nostrils.

It was intoxicating, absolutely distracting and sleep began to slip your mind. It didn’t help that you were still cold too, moving around and turning onto your side where you now faced Taehyung.

He seemed to have already dozed off, face tranquil as he slept soundlessly on his back. You couldn't help but admire his side-profile, the sparse moonlight illuminating his features. It was hard to not stretch your hand out and nearly run a touch along his cheek, like he was a rare work of art that naturally called for admiration.

You realized turning towards him that he radiated a wave of warmth from his body, remembering boys were pretty much furnaces while girls usually froze.

How wonderful it is to be a woman.

You desired some of that heat and shuffled just a little closer to Taehyung, nearing the center of the bed. You discerned he was indeed warm and maneuvered slightly closer, just about stopping at the center of the bed. You fought back the urge to shimmy any closer, leaving a mindful gap between you two.

You were seconds from catching a peace of mind until Taehyung unexpectedly spoke in the silence of the night, startling you.

“You can come closer, I don’t bite.” The smirk in his voice was obvious, making you scrunch your nose and snap back at him.

“Shut up, I’m not getting closer to you.”

“You should, I’m really warm, and I can tell you’re cold.” There he was again teasing, his tone coy as he kept his eyes shut, unbothered.

“Over my dead body.” You mocked him from earlier, turning away from him abruptly and pulling the covers over your head.

Coffee was probably your favourite thing life had to offer. One of the couple things you’d fight someone over; coffee and your independence, if you wanted to be specific.

So it made you genuinely happy Taehyung had such a wide selection of coffee to choose from, ranging from all kinds of beans to instant coffee, cappuccinos, lattes, mochas, you name it. It took no time for you to craft a cup to your liking, shuffle into a seat on the island and begin picking at the breakfast the housekeepers had whipped up earlier this morning.

You’d woken up early today keeping in mind the day you had planned. You decided this to be another move-in day as part of your studio setup project you’ve entertained for the last week. The granted time off due to your odd honeymoon farce with Taehyung proved to actually come in handy, thankfully.

It had been another peaceful morning for you, having woken up with sunlight gracing the walls, certain you could hear birds chirping as if you were in a Disney film and little mice would come out to start sewing the gown you’d wear as a princess.

It had been a peaceful morning indeed, but when you stretched out to loosen your stiff muscles, the chaos that met you was anything but peaceful. Even if it’s occurred at least 5 times now, you kept forgetting that you shared a bed with someone else now, and that said someone had somehow always founds a way to gravitate towards you during the night, even daringly cast an arm over you sometimes.

It left you in a state of panic registering that Taehyung’s, dare you say warm and cozy body would be just behind you, his chest mere centimeters from your back. You would stay still for some time, calculating the optimal way to remove yourself from his hold until he eventually stirred enough to loosen his grip, darting right out of bed.

Other times, he’d wake earlier than you and you wondered what would cross his mind once he registered your oddly proximal bodies.

Did it ever bother him?

Nonetheless, it brought a mischievous smile to your face thinking about the fact that Taehyung had such a perfectly human habit like cuddling. He was always so serious, so put together and a near machine at everything he did, seeming as though he wouldn’t give anything romantic the time of day.

But it was hard to forget the fluffy feeling that blossomed in your chest when you would sense his proximity, maybe inviting a liking to it. You had always slept alone, only yourself and the darkness to keep you company in your lonely bed, in your lonely home.

So sleeping next to someone, namely Kim Taehyung left an impression on you you couldn’t quite shake. It was difficult to erase the image of his calm, sleeping face after the handful of times witnessing it. Long eyelashes delicately pressed to the skin under his eyes, lips plush as he seemed to naturally pout in his sleep. The sunlight only accentuated his honey-coloured skin, adding a glow to his features that made him appear prettier than he already was.

It was nice to think you’d wake up to that every morning.

You found your mind still playing around with the idea until you snapped yourself out of it, questioning why the hell you always ventured off whenever you thought about him.

Weird.

You were scolding yourself until your eyes caught Taehyung strolling into the kitchen with his phone in is hand. He’d foregone a jacket today, black shirt sleeves folded to mid-forearm paired with black slacks.

You were normal until you almost spat your coffee seeing he wasn’t wearing a tie but instead had the first few buttons of his shirt open, revealing a generous view of his neck and the beginnings of his chest.

Fucking hell.

You were staring stupidly until Taehyung peeked up at you, smiling “Morning.”

“M-morning.” you stuttered.

He seemed unsuspecting as he returned his attention to his phone, proceeding to the kitchen counter and retrieving a cup to fix himself a drink. He appeared to be reading something conscientiously on his device, never taking his eyes off and you quickly became bored, ready to use the weapon you’d acquired.

“So.. you’re a cuddler, huh?”

Taehyung nearly dropped his cup.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re a cuddler when you sleep. Cute.” You rested your chin in your palm, playful smile on your face.

“I think you’re mistaken, I am not a cuddler. And I’m not cute.” Taehyung denied as he only focused on the cup, his back to you. You then watched him reach for his selection of tea and purposefully evade the coffee, your eyes lighting up with mischief.

“Wait, you’re a cuddler and you drink tea instead of coffee? Very cute.” You pulled on his leg, chuckling as you brought your mug to your lips

This was going to be fun.

“Shut up, I don’t like the taste and tea is healthier.” Taehyung practically sneered back, harshly ripping the packet of his tea bag.

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a cuddler.” You sipped on your coffee, unbothered as you swung your legs back and fourth.

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you like it.”

You nearly spat your drink.

“What?”

“I remember a certain someone that shuffles closer to me for warmth, no?” Taehyung snapped back as he returned to his phone and popped his tea into the microwave, his shoulders high to the sky. You could imagine his smug face proud of his remark while searching for your own, realizing that Taehyung was damn good at arguing and you’d really have to upgrade your comeback game to counter him.

He was unfortunately your match.

“Even if I were one, which I’m not, It’s not like I’m committing a crime.” Taehyung suddenly finalized with a snippy tone, and you realized you may have hurt his ego.

Men.

“I never said it was a bad thing.” You commented under your breath and looked away, popping a raspberry into your mouth.

Taehyung bit back a smirk as he retrieved his cup of tea, taking a sip as he returned to his phone and took a seat across from you. He began compiling his plate of breakfast as he worked his device, typing away with one hand as if he was drafting the Magna Carta.

You became bored again.

“Why do you have so much coffee if you don’t like it?” You genuinely felt like inquiring, if he didn’t like the taste why would he have so much?

“For my housekeepers, they drink it.” He took a sip of his tea, all attention on his phone.

You nodded understandingly. “Why do you have two housekeepers, by the way? Isn’t one enough?”

“So they can keep each other company.” He answered absentmindedly, eyes still glued to his phone as he bit a piece of his toast. You really hated that he wasn’t actively interacting with you because it only left room to stare at him, and that was never any good.

He looked illegally attractive with the unbuttoned part of his shirt, your mind profusely bugging out over the exposed bit of his chest. You were reminded of the full view from last night, and began pondering how long you’d survive having to see that for the rest of your life.

“O-oh, that’s nice.” You stuttered back a reply, squashing your previous thought.

You were actually quite impressed by the kindness Taehyung showed behind that decision, noticing he had these small moments where he was caring, considerate, all hidden behind his unreadable face and seriousness when it came to business.

It was quite interesting.

You were mindlessly eating until Taehyung spoke up, eyes flickering towards you. “What are you going to do today?”

You swallowed your fruit. “I was planning on moving more stuff in again, start finishing my studio setup. Thank you again for the room, by the way.” You expressed your gratitude once more, forking some eggs into your mouth.

“Don’t mention it.”

“What are you doing today?” you echoed his question, taking another swig of coffee.

“I’m working again. If you need anything I’ll be in my study.” Taehyung sent you a half-smile before snatching up his plate, bringing his phone to his ear as he stepped out of the kitchen.

You sighed heavily only being left to think about your day, which would be majorly spent unpacking and arranging things. You had a plethora of art supplies, design tools and canvases to set up in your studio, leaving you constantly thinking of how to even begin.

It would be a mission alone to sort through everything you had left, knowing you didn’t exactly label out of sheer laziness and would have to individually unbox and organize everything .

It was this exact task that took up most of your day, time having slipped by in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t easy when you had to be rummaging through your belongings and situating them where you thought appropriate, also trying to envision a new look for your studio.

You hadn’t realized 3 hours had passed until the ring of the front doorbell caused you to check your phone, curious as to who would be visiting your home in the middle of the day. You assumed it be one of the housekeepers and abandoned your work, cascading down the staircase and striding towards the grand entrance.

You drew towards the monitor Taehyung had showed you just yesterday, explaining it to be your home security system. Taehyung detailed it had a camera for your front porch that detected movement and the doorbell alike, so you peered at the monitor to see the stranger outside your home.

Your eyebrows furrowed registering a woman, her back turned towards the door as she fidgeted nervously with her purse in her hand.

Sheer curiosity took you over and you paddled towards the door, unlocking it. You wore a smile on your face as you swung the door open, though it was immediately wiped off taking in the last person on earth you ever wanted to see.

“Mother?”

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tags : @thedarkwinterrose @ayujaded @couldbeyourlast @ladyarmanto @anpanman-sonyeondan @apollukee @blueevelvt @taesluttt @scalubera @laurynne5 @dreamsindreamss @thequeen-kat @awsome-small-k @wrecklesssly @kweenhu @jalexad @staerify @bangforever @dyriddle @aianloveseven @waves-and-woods @hoefortaeshands @veronawrites @nightapple4jk @wataemelonz @aomi-nabi

#thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #thetruthuntoldnet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung arranged marriage au #kim taehyung

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Text

Always You | JJK (Drabble#3)

Summary: You have yet to tell Jungkook your big news and he might not take it so well.

Pairing: Always You!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: Angst!!! Smut!!! And fluff too hehe

Word count: 7.3k (I am SO sorry)

Warnings: sad Jungkook, jealous oc, panic attack, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, cum eating, scratching, marking, overstimulation, mentions of anal (sorry if I forgot any)

Notes: sorry this is long for a drabble! I actually managed to get it down to 7k wooo. Also pls don’t be that mad at oc:) hehe. Make sure to send an ask if you want to chat:) ily guys

Taglist: @seagulljk

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The record shop is busier than usual this evening…Yoongi has tried his best to stop by yours and Taehyung’s table to chat but another customer keeps walking in one after the other. You chuckle, waving him off, telling him to work.

“And Jungkook doesn’t know?” Taehyung frowns at you, “Like, this is huge y/n. And you haven’t told him?”

“Not yet, at least.” You admit, bringing your coffee mug to your lips. “I’m going to have to eventually though right…”

“Who else doesn’t know?”

“Everyone knows actually.”

“Oh girl, that’s not good.”

“What do you mean?” you bring the coffee mug back to the table, your fingers strumming the side of the mug.

“You’re telling me he is the last to know? That’s just…not going to sit right with him and you know that.”

Fuck, he’s right. Jungkook is your best friend, your boyfriend, the man you live with, the man you love…and he has no idea you’re about to move to another country. You got accepted to work in Japan for a year and you could not be more excited. But there’s this huge weight on your entire body, the weight equal to one man.

“I know, shit, but I just can’t. He’s going to act so supportive but I know how disappointed he will be. I mean, we just started living together recently you know? Our relationship is going so nicely and I don’t want to ruin that.” You rant, a frown pulling down your lips.

“I finally finished with my last customer.” You hear Yoongi walk up to your little corner of the record shop. “What are we talking about?” he pulls up his chair and sits down.

“y/n still hasn’t told Jungkook about Japan.”

“Still?” Yoongi looks disappointed to say the least. “y/n…”

“Guys, I know!” you throw your hands up, “I’m fucking up.”

“Wait, do the others know that Jungkook doesn’t know?”

“I didn’t necessarily announce that it’s a secret…” you bite your bottom lip, worry filling your body, “And he’s with Jin, Namjoon and Hobi tonight.”

“You should text them and tell them.”

“But it’s not the first time he’s hanging around them since I told them…so maybe I just don’t come up in conversation?” you respond hopefully.

“Yeah, not likely. Jungkook always finds a way to talk about you.” Tae grumbles. “Trust us, we would know.”

“Yeah, he’s right.” Yoongi agrees, “Listen, you need to tell him before he finds out from someone else.”

“I’ll tell him…” you pick up your mug and take a sip, “Tonight.”

~~~~~~

Your apartment is dark and there’s no sign of life—Jungkook must still be out with the guys. You sigh in relief because although you said you would tell him tonight you are already chickening out. You know, you know. A cowards move. But honestly, it’s hard!

Right as you think you’re in the clear, you hear the front door opening from behind you. Jungkook is whistling some tune as he walks in and he lights up when he sees you.

“Baby.” He sings out, walking closer to you. “Hi.” He says before leaning down and pecking your lips.

“Hi, how was your night?” you ask as you slip off your shoes and head towards the bedroom.

“It was nice.” Jungkook continues to whistle, “How was yours? How are Tae and Yoongi? Anything new?”

“No, just the usual.” You shimmy out of your pants and slip off your shirt, leaving you in some panties and a bralette. You walk out of your room and into the bathroom to turn on the shower. The water is cold but is quickly heating up as you turn the knob, you enjoy how hot it’s getting.

“Should I join you?” You hear Jungkook say from behind you. He snakes his arms around your waist and kisses your neck.

“If you want babe.”

“I want you to want me to.” He pouts, “So, I’ll ask again…should I join you?”

You can’t help but giggle, turning around in his grasp and pulling at his shirt.

“Yes, please.” You say as he lifts his arms up for you to lift his shirt off. You eye your boyfriend over, his muscles look so strong and honestly? Did they get bigger? He has been hitting the gym more. His tattoos cover one of his arms and it’s such a sexy sight. You trace your fingers over his body art and he smiles down at you.

“Like what you see?”

“You know I do.” You breathe out and he reaches behind you and unclasps your bra.

“I like what I see too.” He says as your breasts are freed. “God, I love your tits.”

“The water is probably ready.” You smirk, sliding your panties down. Jungkook’s eyes follow your movement, he watches as the panties get dragged down leg by leg.

“Then let’s get in.” He’s taking off his own pants and boxers in one go, leaving him completely naked for you.

The two of you step in the shower, letting the hot water wash over your entire bodies. He lets you go under first as he squirts some shampoo in his palm.

“C’mere.” He commands. You step out from under the water and he massages the shampoo into your scalp, creating a bubbly mess. Then you go back under to rinse, this continues for the conditioner as well and then he’s soon washing your body with body wash, making sure he gets every corner and crevice of your body. Then you do the same for him, he loves when you wash his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp has him groaning.

“Missed you tonight.” He says quietly, “You missed me?”

“When am I not missing you?” you lean up to kiss him. He doesn’t let you lean away though as he leans in further to kiss you deeper. The water dribbles down your faces as you two have your lips moving quickly against one another. He nips at your bottom lip before his tongue tangles with yours, you moan into his mouth and he swallows it.

“Gonna fuck you?” he asks impatiently. His hard cock slipping between your folds as he grinds into you.

“Yes.” You respond breathlessly. “Yes.”

~~~~~~~

You slip on one of Jungkook’s t shirts and a fresh pair of panties and slide into bed. You find yourself in your boyfriends strong, warm arms. You lay your head down on his chest and listen to his heart beat. It’s racing. Why?

“Jungkook—”

“So anything new?” Jungkook cuts you off, his heart doing a million things.

You’re quiet for a few moments before you speak up again.

“Nope.”

You hear Jungkook sigh out heavily…then he’s moving from beneath you and getting up to turn on the lamp.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure?” You sit up on your elbows, confusion drawn on your face.

“y/n…” you hear him softly warn, “I’m giving you a chance to tell me.”

“Tell you what? I have nothing to tell you?”

That’s the moment you think you can physically see Jungkook’s heart break in his chest. His face falls dramatically as a frown takes over.

“Nothing at all?” he asks quietly and that’s when you know. He knows.

“What are you talking about, Jungkook?” you decide to say instead of the truth and his face twists into a look of disappointment.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he looks down at his hands, “That you are apparently fucking moving? To japan?”

You feel yourself go pale.

“I—”

“I have known for a few weeks.” Jungkook admits, “I’ve been giving you time to tell me but it came up again tonight…and I just couldn’t wait anymore. But it seems like you were never going to tell me.” He grits out. “Were you?” His voice is pleading now. “y/n, were you just going to leave without saying anything?”

“What? No! Of course not!” you rush to say, “I just—”

“And you told literally everyone else except for me. Why am I the last to know? Shouldn’t I have been the first person you told? Didn’t you want to like, discuss it with me first? Or did you just make the decision immediately that you’re moving there without even considering me?” he sounds so pained, like speaking isn’t something he excels at.

“Jungkook, what do you mean discuss it with you? It’s my decision,”

He looks at you incredulously, his eyes wetting with tears.

“Of course its your decision at the end of the day but we should still have discussed it! We live together, we are planning a future together!” he cries out. “Or were you going to break up with me?”

“What?! Jungkook no—”

“Maybe that would be for the best, you can’t even tell me something like this—”

“Jungkook stop.” You feel your eyes gloss over, and a few tears slide down your face. “Don’t even talk about breaking up.”

“Why not?” He spits out, “You don’t even tell me shit or consider me in the big things in your life.”

“That’s not true…” you cry. “I was just scared. I thought you would be more supportive…”

“The problem isn’t Japan, y/n.” Jungkook states. “It’s the fact that you couldn’t even tell me about it or discuss it with me. We can make this work but you didn’t even give me a chance to try.” Tears prick his eyes as he speaks and you feel yourself go numb. You fucked up, you should have told him…but you don’t think either way would have been easy.

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Wait! No…” you grab for his hand and he exhales deeply.

“Let go of me, y/n.”

“No.” you say, your stubbornness taking over. “No.”

“Why not?” he asks, using his other hand to wipe at his face.

“I love you Jungkook, and I’m sorry.”

“I love you too, y/n. But I’m mad.” He says, tugging his hand away from you. “I need some space.”

~~~~~

“Space?” Jimin asks with a frown, “Don’t you leave in like a month? Isn’t space the last thing you guys should have?”

“You’d think so. But it’s been 5 days Jimin.” You take a swig of your beer and wince at the bitter flavor. “He’s pissed.”

“And he has every right to be, babe.” Jimin points out, “Full offense but you fucked up.”

“I know…” you tug on your hair, “Last time I gave him space he didn’t talk to me for three months…” you say, worry laced in your voice. “How do I know he won’t disappear on me again?” you choke out, “That would fucking crush me. I need to talk to him.”

“I know where he’s at tonight.” Jimin admits softly, “Should we go?”

You nod your head as Jimin stands up and grabs his keys, he walks towards the front door and glances over at you.

“Coming?”

“Yes.”

You and Jimin pull up to some bar downtown, it’s in a shadier part of town and you wonder how Jungkook ended up in a place like this. You guys get inside and see Jungkook and Taehyung sitting at the bar with 3 girls surrounding them. You can’t help the way your chest tightens at the sight. Jimin looks over at you and offers you a soft smile.

“They come here to talk to girls?” you bitterly question.

“Does it look like Jungkook is even sparing one of them a glance? He just came with Tae.” Jimin defends and you roll your eyes, you still can’t help but feel irritated.

Jungkook sits here at the bar with a whiskey, taking sip after sip. He looks tired to say the least, he looks plain tired. He doesn’t even notice you coming up to them, he just takes another sip of his drink.

“Why doesn’t your friend talk?” One of the girls slurs out, “I want to talk to him.”

“Oh him?” Taehyung points at Jungkook, “He has a….y/n.” his eyes widen when he spots you.

“A y/n?” the girl asks, clearly confused.

“Yes, a me.” You say harshly, “His girlfriend.”

Jungkook hears your voice and sighs out, setting his drink down. He slowly turns in his bar stool to face you, his tired face becoming even more tired.

“What are you doing here?” he slurs out. “I said I needed space.”

“So you two are broken up then?” the girl asks, “Don’t call yourself his girlfriend—”

“She is my girlfriend.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “I just needed some time to think.”

“Oh? With all these girls around?” you spit out. “This what you do when you need space?” You place your hands on your hips. “Talk to other girls?”

Jungkook looks at you like you’ve lost your mind, he shakes his head with a frown,

“Does it look like I’m talking to them?” he asks you, incredulously.

“It’s been 5 days Jungkook, how much space do you need? Need another three months?” he hears your voice crack as you speak and he feels himself deflate.

“Baby, I wouldn’t—”

“You wouldn’t do that?” You ask, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, “You’ve done it before.”

Jungkook stands from his bar stool and walks towards you, grabs your hand and leads you outside.

“Let’s go home.” He says softly, “We can talk.”

Jungkook pulls out his phone and orders an uber. The ride gets here within 5 minutes…you two stay silent the whole ride over to your apartment.

Once the uber pulls up to your apartment, Jungkook takes your hand and interlocks your fingers as you two exit the vehicle.

The walk up to the apartment is only a couple minutes, those are silent as well. He keeps his tight grip on your hand though, never letting go.

“We’re home.” Jungkook whispers when you two get inside. “We should drink some water.”

You nod your head in agreeance, heading towards the kitchen. Jungkook follows behind you, he watches your figure as you stumble forward. He exhales a deep, deep breath and rolls his eyes. You’re a little more tipsy than he first thought and he thought he was sort of drunk.

“y/n…maybe we should just get some sleep…”

“No, you said we were going to talk!” You yell out over your shoulder as you reach for two glasses for water. You grab the pitcher from the fridge and pour you and Jungkook a glass. He comes up behind you, and takes a glass and begins drinking it back slowly.

“I still think we should sleep on it tonight—”

“Oh? You on the couch? And me alone in the room?” you spit out, “That’s how we’re going to ‘sleep’ on it?”

“Alright, you obviously want to talk—”

“Yeah, no fucking shit.”

“Hey…” Jungkook winces, “You don’t have to cuss at me.” He says softly, “Let’s just talk.”

“How long were you going to go without talking to me, hm?”

“Maybe as long as you didn’t tell me about Japan?” Jungkook snaps. He doesn’t mean to snap, of course. But he’s starting to become frustrated. You look at him with shocked eyes, feeling guilty all of the sudden. Maybe you deserved that.

“Jungkook I said I’m sorry—”

“Maybe sorry isn’t good enough.” He grits out, “You kept something so important from me, and didn’t even think it was something we should discuss together. As a couple…as a team.”

You breathe out, trying to calm yourself, the guilt beginning to eat you alive. As a team?

“I was serious…” he begins, his chest starting to heave. “We can make it work if you’re wanting to go abroad. But y/n you have to actually tell me so we can seriously discuss it.” His pained expression feels like a stab to the gut. “Because I won’t lie to you…this isn’t going to be easy for me. I’m so…” he chokes up, “I’m so attached to you.” He finishes with a hard gulp. His eyes stinging with tears, “I’m so in love with you that I don’t know how I can physically be without you.”

“Jungkook…” you stand here with your own tears threatening to fall. “You can be without—”

“No!” he cries out, “I don’t think so.”

“You’re stronger than you think, baby.” You walk closer to him and he falls forward into your arms, you catch him and try your best to hold him up as he starting sobbing into your neck.

“N-No.” he chokes on his sobs, “P-Please don’t-please don’t…don’t leave me.” He manages to cry out between harsh breaths. “I need you.”

Your heart cracks and breaks into maybe tens of millions of pieces, then those pieces manage to get even more crushed. So, this wasn’t just about you not telling him…this goes deeper than that.

“Baby, I’m not leaving you. I would never leave you. I’m yours forever.” You remind him softly, caressing his back as he continues to weep. “We would make plans to see each other every few months, remember?”

“You—you want to l-leave me.” He cries harder into your shoulder making you screw your eyes shut so your own tears don’t spill over.

“Baby that’s not—”

“Why am I never good enough to make the people I love stay?” he whispers, his quiet sobs taking a toll on his tired body. Your eyes go wide at his comment…this is much, much deeper than you thought.

“Jungkook…” you whisper his name over and over, trying to calm him. Your hand massages his scalp and he continues to cry.

You don’t know what to say at this point…you don’t think any words you can say will work…will comfort him. Only ‘okay I won’t go’ but you can’t…you can’t say that. Because it would be a lie. You’ve already made your decision and that’s that you are going. You’ve already accepted and made the arrangements to fly out, you’ve already been placed in an apartment, everything is already done. And yes, you feel bad. Awful actually but this is something you really want to do, for you. You want this, you need this. And you hope Jungkook will become more understanding. You know he will…he’s just drunk and emotional right now. But you can tell these are his real feelings.

“Do you still love me?” Jungkook chokes out and your face twists into a frown. This is it, you finally cry. His unsureness breaks you.

“What are you talking about?” you let a few tears stream down your face, “I love you more than anything, anyone.” You hug him tighter, your arms becoming sore from how hard you’re holding on to him.

“Then don’t leave.” He begs into your neck and you fall to your knees, bringing him down with you. You feel so fucking conflicted.

“Baby.” You cry out, “Please understand.”

Jungkook shakes as he cries, like he’s beginning to hyperventilate. He tries to speak but only harsh, quick breaths leave his open mouth. He brings his head back and he looks at you panicked, like he can’t breathe.

“Okay, calm down, calm down.” You whisper, rubbing his back. “Breathe, my love. Breathe.”

Jungkook shuts his eyes and shakes his head, he is struggling to find that breath. He continues to breathe out quickly, panic rising.

“In and out, in and out.” You continue to rub his back, “I’m here my love, I’m here.”

Jungkook tries his hardest to take a deep breath but it’s so hard, so fucking hard. He opens his eyes and they scream for you, they are wide and pleading and you feel so fucking heartbroken.

“Come on, in and out…that’s it Jungkook. In and out.” He follows your instructions, trying his best to breathe in and out as steadily as possible. He finally manages to calm down only for him to break down even more…he closes his eyes and starts crying harder this time.

“Jungkook.” Your voice cracks, “Please calm down.” You feel yourself becoming more and more anxious as well.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You whisper out over and over until he’s quieting down. You don’t stop though, you continue to repeat the words until his breathing sounds stable again. You don’t stop caressing his back either, you just continue to do what you can to comfort him.

“I know you do.” Jungkook finally whimpers out. “I know you do. I’m sorry.” He sniffles into your neck. “I’m sorry.” His voice breaks and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Don’t be sorry baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I do.” He says a little more calmly. “I shouldn’t try to make you stay. If you want to go…then that’s what you want and I want to be nothing be supportive of what you want.”

“It’s not because I don’t want to be with you Jungkook. I wish you could just quit your job and come with me, to be honest. But I know I can’t ask you to do that.” You rub his back some more. Jungkook lifts himself off your shoulder and looks into your eyes.

“I know.” He sighs out, “I know. It’s just…it’s just for a year, right?” his big doe eyes bore into yours.

“Just a year babe.” You promise, “And I will see you every few months, and we will talk every day.”

Jungkook nods his head and tries to smile for you but it’s tense and strained and you frown again.

“It’ll be fun when you come to visit me…” you try to lighten the mood. “Imagine all the food we will try and all the sights we will see.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook tries smiling again, this time it’s a little more relaxed.

“And all the sex we will have in a different country?” you playfully wiggle your brows and Jungkook laughs while sniffling.

“I will kiss you in every famous spot in Japan.” Jungkook offers, “And we’re going to take a million pictures. And you will video chat with me every single day, right?”

“Every single day.” You repeat, “And you won’t be alone,” you remind him, “You have the guys, our friends. They’re just as much as family…”

“Yeah, I know.” He sniffles again, “I know.”

“I really am sorry for not telling you first…I was just so scared…I knew you would be disappointed…”

“Baby, I’m not like, entirely disappointed. I am also really happy for you. I’m just a bit sad for selfish reasons.” He admits. “I got so emotional…”

“You don’t think I would ever leave you, right? That you are 100% good enough. You are the love of my life, Jungkook.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that.” He sighs out. “I’m sorry for what I said…I was just…” he begins to get choked up again and you immediately caress his cheek.

“I know. You don’t have to explain…” you whisper. “We’re going to be okay.”

“More than okay.” He smiles at you with his brows pulled together. “Right?”

“Right.” You lean in and your lips meet his. You kiss him over a few times, and he lazily kisses you back.

“Let’s go to bed?” you begin to stand up, taking Jungkook’s heavy body with you.

“Okie.” He nods his head and follows you into the bedroom. “Take my clothes off for me.” He raises his arms above his head and waits patiently.

You chuckle at the sight but agree nonetheless. You walk to him and lift his shirt up, throwing it to the side. Then you are unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants, dragging them down his legs. He lifts one leg at a time as you slip them off…you’re dropped to your knees as you take them off his body.

“While I’m down here…maybe I could…” you play with the elastic of his briefs and he can’t help but chuckle.

“We can just go to sleep…” he offers shyly but you can see the outline of his length begin to twitch.

“I just want you to feel good…” you begin pulling the briefs down slowly, his half hard cock making an appearance.

“You always make me feel good.” He admits between a rough breath.

“Good.”

You grab onto his thick thighs and he stumbles backward until he’s gripping the desk in your room, he braces himself, staring down at you with soft eyes.

“Wanna make my baby feel so good.” You say, inching your face closer to his growing member. You haven’t even touched him yet and his cock is twitching uncontrollably. You watch as it gets harder and harder.

“Then make me feel good.” He breathes out, the desperation in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

You finally walk your fingers up his thigh until you’re softly stroking his dick. Your fingers lightly gliding up his growing length. He softly moans out, but he isn’t really, truly whining until you grip his cock and squeeze his head lightly.

“Fuck.” He sighs out, his hands going to your hair. “Love your touch, baby.”

“How about my mouth? Do you love that too?” you ask, as your face gets closer and closer until he is feeling your warm breaths fan over his cock.

“Please.” He begs cutely, “Need you.”

You bring his cock to your lips, you circle his cock over your mouth, your chin, your nose, all over your face. He groans at the view you are giving him, his tip beginning to leak precum. You dart your tongue out to lick him clean and he throws his head back.

“Please.” He begs again and you chuckle darkly.

“So needy.” You say , “Baby so needy.” You finally take his cock in your mouth, you wrap your pretty lips over the head and lightly suck making his eyes roll to the back of his head. He grips your hair tighter as you take him further into your mouth. He’s losing it. Your mouth feels like heaven, the way you lightly suck, the way your tongue drags up and down his length and swirls around the head of his dick, the way you take him further, so deep that he’s hitting the back of your throat.

You begin to bob your head up and down as you start to allow him to access all his pleasure. He groans loudly as you pick up your pace, his hands falling back down to his sides as he finds the desk again and he holds on tightly.

You take him deeper, causing you to choke on his cock and he smirks down at you.

“Having trouble there?” he asks as you continue to gag on his throbbing length, you just moan in response, the vibrations causing him to screw his eyes shut and cry out in pleasure.

You continue to suck on him for who knows how long, your jaw starting to become sore but his whines are enough for you to keep going. Your eyes wet with tears and he is in awe of the sight you allow him.

“I want to come…” he pants out, “But inside you.” He admits between harsh breaths, “But I want to enjoy this for a few more minutes…please.” He begs and you nod your head, you take your mouth off his cock and use your hand to stroke him over and over. You look up at him with your big eyes and he melts. He wants to come so bad, just not like this.

You open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out, then you take his cock and slap it over the flat of your tongue and he basically fucking loses it. You then swallow him whole again, sucking on his dick so deliciously.

“Okay, okay…” Jungkook pants out, “Let me fuck you.” He’s lifting you up by the arms and spinning your body to be up against the desk. He shoves everything to the side and on to the floor as he goes in between your legs.

“Up.” He says, helping you sit on the edge of the desk. His hands scramble to your shorts, he’s quick to unbutton them and drag the zipper down, taking them off you. Leaving you in your shirt and panties. Then he’s ripping off your shirt and bra.

“Let’s see how wet you are first.” He snickers to himself with dark eyes. His fingers rub the outside of your panties and finds them to be very damp.

“Good girl.” He pushes your panties to the side and pushes two fingers inside you immediately causing you to gasp out.

“Let me stretch you a little first.” He moves his fingers inside you as you nod your head frantically in approval. “Good girl.” He repeats and you roll your eyes to the back of your head as he begins to scissor his fingers. You wish he would keep his fingers inside you but much to your dismay he’s pulling them out and licking them clean.

“Mm.” he sucks on his fingers and winks at you. “Love this taste. My favorite flavor.” He whispers to you and you blush.

“Gonna fuck you right here, okay?”

“Please Jungkook. Need your cock so bad.”

Jungkook smirks at you before his smile turns soft and he looks at you with eyes full of adoration.

“Need me?”

“Always need you.”

Jungkook nods his head slowly as he grabs a hold of his length, he gets closer to you, his cock brushing against your clit and you close your eyes in pleasure. He rubs his cock over your clit over and over until you’re a moaning mess. He smiles at you again before lining his cock up to your entrance and slowly, very slowly pushes in. Good lord, his cock is entering you so fucking beautifully, the way he brushes against every special spot inside your tight pussy has you arching your back in pleasure.

Jungkook releases a long, harsh breath as he bottoms out, he stays still for a few moments before he’s sliding in and out of you. His thrusts are intentional, every single one has a purpose. They’re hard, fast and rough. You claw at his back, leaving long lines of pink and red down his back which only encourages him to fuck you harder. One of your hands trail up his body until you’re in his hair, you pull on the strands as your wrap your legs around his tiny waist, your heels digging into his lower back.

Jungkook lifts you from the desk and lightly slams your bodies into the wall next to the door as he continues to fuck into you. You toss your head to the side, giving Jungkook access to your neck, which he gladly accepts the invitation. He kisses you throat, and sucks into your skin. You whine at how good everything feels. Your bodies roll over the wall until you’re at the entrance of the door and Jungkook carries you over to the hallway, fucking you up against that wall as well as you scream out his name.

“Gonna fuck you on every surface of this apartment.” Jungkook promises you. “So you have a memory of a new spot every time you think of this apartment you will be reminded of how I fucked you.” Your legs begin to sliding down over his ass, and he uses his strong arms to bump you up higher, his cock never leaving your pussy.

He walks you over to the couch and lays you down on it, you’re flat against the sofa as he stays standing, fucking into you faster and harder. His cock is throbbing and aching for release but he endures it, his moans filling the room.

You try your hardest to keep your orgasm at bay, but it’s becoming so difficult as his dick is reaching that spot deep within you that has your body going tense. You try so hard you really do but before you can even warn him you feel your body electrifying with intensity as your orgasm washes over you like a huge wave of warm water. You scream, you cry, you moan out in pleasure. But Jungkook doesn’t stop, he slows down though, giving you a moment to relax.

“This isn’t over.” He warns. “I still have to fuck you from behind, still need your fucking gorgeous ass.” He’s lifting your weak body up and momentarily taking his cock out of you to walk you to the kitchen, his hands make their way into your hair and he guides you to bend over the counter. It’s cold against your breasts and you shiver.

“Spread your cheeks for me baby, give me that view.”

You are still out of breath from your orgasm but you listen to him, you reach behind you and spread your ass apart to show him your used pussy.

“Fucking beautiful. So wet.” He groans. “One of these days you’re going to let me fuck this ass aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen but you nod your head frantically, already loving the idea.

“Words baby.”

“Yes.” You moan out as you feel his cock being shoved back inside you, you choke on air as you feel him start thrusting again. You really fucking gasp when you feel his hand come down on your ass hard.

“Love this ass. So fucking much.” He says, panting. “Can’t wait to stick my cock in it and fuck you.” His words go straight to your pussy. God, you don’t want to come again this quickly but his cock feels so god damn good.

“Tell me you want me to fuck this ass.” He grunts.

“I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

“Next time, baby.” He promises, his thrusts still fucking you with so much purpose. He pulls you by the hair causing you to arch your back even more and he falls in love with this view. He loves your boobs, but he’s definitely an ass man. He will argue he loves both but the way your ass is pushed into his crotch right now…he could honestly lose his mind.

He lifts you up again, by the hair—mostly gently. And he now has your body pushed up against the fridge, your face being smooshed into the cold silver box. Your fingers dragging leaving prints down the fridge as he lifts one of your legs to fuck you at a better angle. You cry out, he’s hitting that spot again and you feel yourself losing all composure.

“I’m gonna come again Jungkook.” You warn him this time between your rough breaths.

“I’ll come with you. But we aren’t done.” He starts thrusting faster, the sound of his skin slapping your skin is honestly pushing you further into your orgasm. You feel the warmth travel through your whole body and you feel the band fucking snap. God, you are coming so hard, creaming around his cock as he slows down his thrusts to come into you, his breathing is so heavy as he starts to come. When he stills his hips he’s releasing a loud, low, guttural moan and you could come again just from the sound.

Jungkook starts whining uncontrollably as he starts to move his hips again, slowly grinding into yours and you wince at the pain, the overstimulation. He cries out, it’s too much for him as well but he doesn’t stop.

“Wanna keep fucking you.” He screws his eyes shut, thrusting into you slowly and carefully. He brings your body closer to his, your back flush against his chest and he walks you over to the breakfast table. He leaves your body, quickly takes his cock out of you and sits down on the chair and orders you to sit in his lap. He gestures towards his cock and smirks.

“Sit.”

“Jungkook…” your eyes slightly wet, “I can’t”

“You can and you will.”

You crawl into his lap and hover over his aching cock, he looks up at you and whimpers.

“hurry.”

You slowly sink down onto his length, the feeling so fucking euphoric. He slams his eyes shut and nods his head.

“Ride me.” He softly commands. You lift yourself up and lower back down again, this angle has you seeing fucking stars. You start to ride his cock a little faster now, slamming down on his hips and he grips your hips helping you rise and sink down on his cock.

“Fuck I am gonna come again.” He says, meeting your thrusts half way. He lifts his hips and fucks you from beneath you. He’s going feral now, losing all control. His cock is so hard, so needy, aching so badly for you, for release. You lean down and start kissing him, nibbling on his lips, nibbling on his jaw, nibbling on his neck. He cries out and thrusts into you so harshly now, you feel your high building and building. You’re going to come soon, but then you’re completely overwhelmed when you feel Jungkook’s fingers on your sensitive bundle of nerves. You scream in pleasure, yelling out his name as he fucks you. The chair threatens to screech backwards as you two fuck so roughly on it.

“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come.” He yells out, his hot seed shooting inside you as he halts his movements. His fingers still rub your clit quickly and you are pushed over the fucking edge—again. You cry as you come. You grit your teeth as this powerful orgasm hits you. You’re so overwhelmed as your whole body shakes.

“Oh fuuuuuuuck.” You yell out and Jungkook grins at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath.

“Holy fuck.” You pant out, “Mother of god.”

“Good?” he breathes out heavily, stroking the skin on your cheek. “felt good?”

“It was so fucking good Jungkook.” You whine, your body going week as you collapse on top of him. He’s just as tired as you are but finds the strength to lift you up and carry you to the bedroom.

He gently lays you on the edge of the bed and spreads your legs apart. He watches with focused eyes as his cum and your cum spills out of your used hole. He licks his lips and buries his head between your legs, you immediately release a high pitched moan when you feel his tongue cleaning you up.

“Jungkook I can’t.”

He only grunts as he swallows down both of your cum, you roll your eyes so far back into your head that all that is seen is the whites of your eyes.

“So good.” He whispers, lifting himself up and crawling over your body, his lips finding yours in a slow, tender kiss. You open your mouth as you moan, and he takes advantage and slips his tongue in. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you moan in satisfaction.

“We really need to shower. We’re so sweaty.” You laugh, kissing his shoulder.

“Then let’s go.” He says in your ear and you groan, not able to move.

“I can’t. I’m so fucking tired. You exhausted me.”

Jungkook looks down at you with a cocky grin. He lifts the duvet up and helps you slide underneath, then he is joining you.

“We can shower in the morning, let’s sleep.” He offers you and you smile in approval.

“Even though we’re so gross?” you ask, yawning.

“I’ll love you no matter how gross you are.”

~~~~~~

Waking up to Jungkook’s head buried between your legs has got to be one of your very favorite things. He starts with kissing up your legs, he starts at your ankles, works his way up your calves then finally he’s at your inner thighs. Kissing, nibbling on the soft skin and you mewl at the contact.

“Jungkook…I’m so sore.” You admit shyly, and he looks up at you with big, doe eyes.

“Just my tongue then.” He assures you, as his lips grow closer and closer to your pussy. You throw your head back on the pillow and wait in agony for his tongue to finally find your clit. He takes his time though…he continues to kiss your inner thighs, and caress your skin lovingly.

“I love you.” He whispers.

“I love you t—”

His tongue licks a hard, long strip over your pussy…and when he finds your clit he’s lightly sucking on it causing you to moan out. He licks it over and over, his face getting so wet with your juices and his spit. He eats you out messily, his nose bumping your clit as he licks you, then he travels up until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit quickly. It doesn’t take much for you, you hate to admit, but you feel the rise of your high. The tension growing and growing until its fucking snapping. You come all over his tongue and he smiles into your pussy, letting you ride out your high. He squeezes your thighs with his hands and leans back and watches as you have your eyes closed, and your lips apart. You quietly cry out, your face twisted in pleasure.

“That was fast.” He teases you. “Might be the fastest you’ve ever came.”

“I think I’m still sensitive from last night…” you open your eyes and stare up at him, “You were so amazing.” You tell him breathlessly.

“Me? Baby you’re the one who did amazing. Such a good girl.” He cleans his face with the back of his hand and makes his way next to you on the bed.

“I’m sorry for last night.” He sighs out, “I was…”

“It’s okay baby.”

“It’s not okay. I’m not selfish, I promise. I want you to follow your dreams, and I want to be as supportive as I can be.”

“I know.” You say softly. “You did have me worried there for a moment though…” you admit, your eyes sliding to the side. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you, Jungkook.”

“I know…Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to feel responsible for me.” He curses under his breath, “I think this year will be good for both of us.” He tries admitting. “I clearly have abandonment issues.” He tries laughing and you frown. “I think…I have to learn to be my myself too.”

“But Jungkook you won’t be alone, you have our friends.”

“I just mean…be without you.”

“Oh.”

“But you’ll still talk to me every day.” You try to smile but tears fill up your eyes. “We’re going to be a successful long distance relationship story.”

“Yeah,” he smiles for you and you believe in it, “We will be.”

~~~~~~

“So fucking does solve all problems.” Jimin comments playfully, taking a sip of his wine. You hit his shoulder with your fist and smile slyly.

“Something like that.”

“I’m glad you guys worked it out though…” Jimin looks at you more seriously, “I hope you learned your lesson not to keep things from him again.”

“Yes dad.” You roll your eyes. “I learned, I learned.” You throw your hands up in defeat.

“Ew, save the daddy talk for Jungkook.”

You quirk a brow at him, “I don’t call Jungkook daddy.” You laugh. “But I might if he asked me to.”

Jimin’s face twists into a look of amusement. He doesn’t even look disgusted, just proud. Classic Jimin.

“So, are you all packed?”

“Getting there.”

“You guys will be fine, you know?” Jimin looks at you with a soft, assuring smile.

“Trust me, I know.”

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #always you drabbles

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necros-writing-stuff · 3 years

Note

How would the male love interests and bailey react to the pc hiding being on birth control?

Kylar is the worst about this lmao.

Hints of NSFW below, warning for several LIs being... Well, themselves.

Alex

A little hurt.

Alex wants a big family. Maybe not now, but in the future, so it's important you're open with him.

Won't ask you to stop, not right now, but will ask that you tell him in the future when making decisions like this.

You two should trust each other, right? Couples do things as a duo.

Fails to see the hypocrisy, if he's hiding things from you.

Avery

It's a good thing that you're responsible. Avery does not have time for a child right now.

Will praise you for thinking ahead. Imagine the scandal it would have caused!

Asks why you take it. Is nosy like that, if you're sleeping around behind his back there will be consequences. Might get curious about what your medical record looks like.

Very happy that he can creampie you as much as he likes without worrying about getting you pregnant, but still has a thing for pulling out and covering you with his seed anyways.

Bailey

Finds out because he tries to put you on it already - or if he mentions that he had a vasectomy (if we go with that headcanon).

Like Avery, is happy that you thought ahead. Bailey can't deal with another brat, yet alone his own.

Doesn't care why you're on it. Just glad you are.

Won't make a big deal out of it, but might eat you out for being so good. He rarely does that, you should be thankful.

Makes sure to check with you that you're sticking to the necessary dose, if you're on the pill, or that if you take injections/have an implant, you go to your appointments to keep them in affect.

Black Wolf

Needs it explained to him what it is and what it does.

Livid. Wants you bred, wants you full of pups. That's what a mate is meant to do.

Will demand you stop using it. If its pills they will throw them away and not allow you to get re-fills.

Extremely frustrated if they can't get rid of it. Gets aggressive when mating.

If its for pain relief, he won't care. Won't really understand either, even after you explain.

Eden

Doesn't like that you kept it from him at all.

Eden owns you. All of you. So you tell him when you take things that have such an affect on you.

Torn between wanting to breed you and not being sure if his lifestyle would allow for children. Can be convinced that it's a bad idea and that you need to be on it - because Eden sure as hell isn't using a condom.

If you take it to help with pain, Eden requires less convincing. He doesn't want you in pain.

Great Hawk

Similarly to BW, you'll have to explain it to him.

When you aren't round with chicks, GH will get very sad and start thinking he's not fertile enough to get his mate pregnant.

You'll have to tell him at that point if you don't want him getting all depressed.

Begs you to stop. Please, please let him breed you.

Will give in if its for pain relief. Your welfare comes first, after all.

Kylar

Will actively sabotage it once he finds out and if you say you won't stop.

Does a lot of research to see what kind of things can make the birth control stop working.

Replaces pills with sugar pills that look the exact same so you don't know.

Always asks you to re-consider, even when sabotaging, to give you a chance to really be involved in the making of your future child.

Robin

Honestly relieved. Imagine having a baby at the orphanage?

Might want a kid in the future, but definitely not now.

Imagine how much Bailey would charge for rent? The horrific though of Bailey looking after the kid if you can't pay and both of you get sold off.

Sydney

Will check up on you to make sure you're all good. No side effects? No pain? Need him to go buy pads or tampons? He's got you.

Not happy about it. Confirmed breeding kink.

Tries to reason that Sirris would help raise it, that it wouldn't be just the two of you

Pure Sydney will give in, allowing you to do what you want.

Corrupt Sydney will keep pushing the matter over and over and won't stop telling you about how pretty you'll look swollen with his child when he cums in you.

Gonna take a while to get through to Corrupt Sydney.

Whitney

Well thank god one of you was smart enough to think about that.

Also doesn't care why you're on it.

Another LI that doesn't want kids. Would maybe dissappear if you got pregnant.

Let's you keep track of your own stuff, but definitely uses it as an excuse to creampie you as much as possible.

Also means no one they share you with can get you pregnant, which is a plus. Whitney likes watching you get pumped full by another while you suck him off.

#degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity alex #degrees of lewdity avery #degrees of lewdity bailey #degrees of lewdity black wolf #degrees of lewdity eden #degrees of lewdity great hawk #degrees of lewdity kylar #degrees of lewdity robin #degrees of lewdity sydney #degrees of lewdity whitney

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

tuxedo, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: Your cat turns into a man. No, not, your cat was always a man and turned back into a man. Your actual cat turns into an actual man and neither you or your cat (man? cat-man?) have any idea why he's human now. Also, he's naked, so that’s a problem. Also, he’s kind of attractive. Yikes.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi still thinks he’s a cat; mentions of smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral (choking on a dick, but not in a sexy way), doggy, spanking, wall-fucking, unintentional??? voyeurism); non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook and you being mad horny for him, what’s new; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? you decide

an anon asked for cat hybrid Yoongi, although instead this is some voodoo witch doctor shit, whoops yes, I do reference BT21, Bob Ross, the lady-pointing-to-the-cat-accusingly meme, list goes on... and there is a cameo of 2021 Seasons Greetings Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin XD

Your lungs were being crushed.

You were bundled in your duvet, wrapped like a mint-colored burrito, on your back, head nestled comfortably in your memory foam pillow. Warm, cozy, snuggly. All things considered, a comfortable position. So comfortable that you were blessedly asleep for many hours until your lungs started getting crushed.

You cracked one eye open.

A giant tuxedo fluffball was causing this slow and painful death.

“Get off.”

You glared with slitted eyes, voice cracking from sleep. The fluffball did not move. Velvety, pointed black ears flicked back and forth. The little pink nostrils flared a bit, breathing evenly and contentedly. At least one of you was. You grunted in irritation. The minty-green eyes opened, black slits for pupils.

“I’m going to die.”

Your cat meowed in your face.

“Shut the fuck up. Get off.”

He yawned.

You narrowed your eyes and lips into lines. Stared at your insufferable, not-so-subtle tuxedo cat that was killing his owner. How long had he and his seven-kilogram ass been sitting on your tits? Too long because your sternum was already aching. You rolled over and he gave you a disgruntled meow as he tumbled off. You pulled your arms out and gave him a soft scratch behind his ears before reaching around to his white belly and patting his chest. He started purring, rolling to his side, white sock-like paws sticking up.

“Ugh, my chest hurts, Shooks. You’re a dick.”

Your cat gave zero fucks.

You were still petting him. Sigh.

“I’m getting up,” you announced to no one except your cat.

You tugged yourself out of your comfy, mint-colored duvet and winced, rubbing your breastbone. Did you buy this bedding set because it reminded you of your cat’s eye color? Yes. Were you a crazy cat lady? Maybe. In your defense, you hadn’t meant to become a crazy cat lady. You were innocently walking on the street when the tuxedo-patterned cat started following you. A large cat with big minty eyes surrounded by black fur like black bangs. White snout and jaw, pink nose, and a raspy meow. The tuxedo pattern was pretty similar to an actual suit, with a white chest and black fur over its back and limbs. White, sock-like paws, on the bigger side. Cute pink toe beans too. At the time, he was skinny and dirty, no collar around his neck, but you could tell he was long-limbed. He had a cut on his right eye, caked with blood.

“You alright, little guy?”

The cat seemed to scoff at you disapprovingly, as if to say, do I seem like a little guy to you?

“I guess you’re not a little guy. You have an owner?”

The cat’s response was headbutting your calf.

You took him back to your apartment and then it was doomed.

Why was his name Shooks? Well, actually, your cat’s name was Shooky, and it was because you tried many names to get him to respond to you – including, but not limited to, “you little shit” – and he responded to none of them except Shooky. For some reason, Shooky made him turn his black-and-white face around and look at you.

Shooky it was.

The first encounter was cute, but after you had fed him and given him a few pats, you gave him a good, hard taste of reality. Shooky was very upset about getting a bath for the first time. There had been a lot of angry meowing, although thankfully he hadn’t swiped at you very much. As soon as you got mostly undressed and sat in the bath with him, he seemed to relent. Maybe it was because you closed the glass door and he couldn’t leave.

“Do you see how dirty you are? You need a bath.”

He gave you a disapproving meow.

“Look, I even bought pet shampoo and you’ll get treats after. Come on, you.”

He was very displeased.

In any case, Shooky was now your primary companion, a large, long-limbed, fluffy tuxedo cat, following you around as you brushed your teeth and made breakfast, his new black collar jingling with a tiny silver bell. Every morning, you handed him his dry food first – he chomped down immediately – and made yourself some breakfast as he ate. Somehow your life now revolved around him, spending time looking up the best cat food (without paying an arm and a leg, you weren’t a sugar momma), making sure he was brushed (his hair got everywhere), telling everyone you needed to get home because you couldn’t miss his dinnertime (if you were a second late opening the door, Shooky would start meowing very exaggeratedly, like he was dying, what a drama queen). Was he annoying? Yes. Was he the best cuddle buddy? Also, yes. Kind of like a boyfriend, but better, because Shooky didn’t talk back.

You arranged your small dishes on the table. Tofu. Eggs. Pickled squash. Just enough for one. You sat down, holding your bowl of steamed rice.

A tuxedo furball jumped onto the table, licking his chops.

“Look here, this isn’t for you. Shoo.”

He settled onto the tabletop and stared at you as you ate.

Sigh.

Live with a cat was pretty similar to life without one.

Except for that weird habit Shooky had of sitting on your bathroom rug when you got out of the shower, scaring the shit out of you the first time. You lived alone, so you didn’t really bother closing doors, but you considered changing that. But it was just a cat. Also, he walked in here of his own volition. Not your fault if his eyes were scarred.

Shooky was a normal cat, but also a weird cat.

He slept a lot. Normal. He bit his paws sometimes. Weird. You figured maybe it was his nails, so you learned to trim them and he seemed better about it, but sometimes when he was stressed, you would notice fur missing from his little white socks. A lot of things could stress a cat. The internet taught you that. You brought him toys and played with him, but mostly he seemed to want you to sit down so he could plant himself in your lap. This make life rather difficult, so you decided it was time to invest in Netflix so you could at least use your time wisely.

This was for your cat, remember.

Yes, binging shows on Netflix was for your cat.

The weirdest thing was…

Shooky was always stressed when you invited a man into your home.

Maybe he didn’t like men. Something in his past, maybe? Could be. Come to think of it, did you even like men? That was a question for another day, but in any case, your cat always gave you this accusing stare when you brought a guy over, no matter how nice the guy was, even if the guy petted him very gently. Shooky never attacked them. He just glared at you like you had betrayed him somehow. How could that be?

What a needy drama queen.

You figured, eh, it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t trying to sabotage your chances of finding true love and all that stuff.

Who are we kidding?

You’d settle for a simple good dicking.

Well, there was that one time.

That time you were in the middle of giving a guy a blowjob. It was going great. You were naked, he was naked, he had a tattooed arm – hot as fuck – and he was very vocally enjoying your tongue technology. Hey, you didn’t have many talents, but you had that going for you. Even if a guy was mildly apprehensive about banging you, once you got your mouth on his dick, it was game over. You mentally patted yourself on the back for doing such a good job.

Positive reinforcement, right?

Annnnnnnd then…

Your cat jumped onto your back and made you choke on his dick.

“Urk!”

“Oh, fu–”

All seven kilos right between your shoulder blades. Oof.

“Are you okay?” He was half-worried, half-laughing, and Shooky was climbing up your back, pressing onto your neck, one paw on the nape, trying to murder you by dick suffocation. It took both of you to lift you off the dick – sad – and Shooky left a few scratches on your neck, as if to communicate his distaste of your infidelity. The guy was really nice about it. Actually, he found it hilarious. You scowled at Shooky and he gave you that deadpan stare that all cats seemed to have. The rest of the night was hot and heavy like you wanted and you even eventually got to complete said blowjob, which brightened your spirits.

It was a little disorienting that your cat was watching you from his cat tree the entire time.

Creep.

Honestly, you would have kept dating that guy if he didn’t move to a different city. Sigh.

Eventually, you stopped bringing men over.

One, because Shooky. Two, because worldwide pandemic.

Sigh.

The night that changed everything was ordinary.

Too ordinary.

You were passed out on the couch, halfway into season six of American Horror Story, somewhat peeved because you wanted to watch the other seasons, but geez, season five had such a poor story and hard focus on gore that it slightly turned you off. That it was a lot, even for you. Season six was better, but slow. The first four seasons had really hooked you and the idea of them all being connected? Nutty. You wanted to watch all of it.

Idea of season five? Awesome.

Lady Gaga? Yeah, why not, you’d be seduced.

Execution? Eh… could be better.

Shooky hadn’t watched any of it. He just slept in your lap.

Subtitles really helped you out here. You didn’t understand how the English-speaking audience could hear the whispering parts, but maybe that was because your English was garbage. You could read better than listen.

At the moment, you weren’t reading shit.

You were half-tucked in a fuzzy black blanket with a tuxedo cat pattern. Did you see the tuxedo cat pattern and buy it immediately? Yes. Were you a crazy cat lady? Maybe. In any case, your head was cocked at an awkward angle on the couch cushion and your mouth was open, snoring away. Attractive. You were wearing mint-colored, striped pajamas, one arm hanging off the couch and the other on Shooky’s furry butt, because you had been petting him.

Netflix was doing that annoying thing where it was asking you if you were still watching or not.

You couldn’t respond.

Shooky was awake.

Your cat was staring at your laptop on your coffee table. It was open. An HDMI cable connected it to your television. Not a clean setup, but an effective one. Again, you lived alone. Who was going to judge you? Your tuxedo cat?

Pfft.

Your cat was awake.

He got off your lap and hopped to the coffee table, peering at your laptop. Then he did what any sensible cat would do.

He walked all over your keyboard.

Circling around and around, smashing all the buttons with his cute pink toe beans, looking for a comfortable spot before settling down and planting his fluffy body on top of it. Windows closed, tabs appeared, the volume got muted, your display settings got fucked, the usual.

The unusual part was that your cat was looking at the screen.

Your internet browser was open.

A video was playing on a mysterious website.

A handsome young man with a boxy smile was wearing a sienna floral dress shirt and sunglasses, oddly paired with flared violet pants. He was standing next to another young man with an angelic face who, for some reason, was wearing a pastel floral handkerchief around on his head and a white-and-navy tracksuit with black, red, and green stripes. They were standing in some weird set with a black tablecloth covered round table and a lavender crystal ball, crystal-like beaded curtains glinting in strangely colorful lighting.

There was no volume.

Your cat tilted his head at the screen, curious.

The man with the boxy smile was speaking excitedly, gesturing to the angelic-looking man who seemed to be in awe. A retro, old school graphic popped up, flowers surrounding a blocky orange and green serif font, mildly tacky but somehow endearing in its own way.

COULD WISHES REALLY BE GRANTED?

Your cat tilted his head the other way.

Your cat didn’t know Korean.

… Right?

Well, you did mostly speak to him in Korean. Maybe he was secretly fluent. He definitely knew, don’t fucking do that, because you would witness him doing the very thing you told him not to do right after you said it. Bastard. But you couldn’t bear witness to this now. You were knocked out on the couch.

Zzz.

Boxy-smile guy placed his fingers elegantly on his forehead, mock dismay on his features, acting as if he couldn’t believe the viewer’s skepticism. Angel-looking guy placed his hands in prayer position, the text now reading, I won’t believe you unless you prove it! Boxy-smile guy flourished to the camera, showing off his brilliant pearly-white smile, mouthing words unheard. Text appeared once more.

Make a wish, any wish!

Your cat closed his eyes and appeared to be asleep.

The video turned black and disappeared into purple sparkles.

Your internet browser unexpectedly closed.

You woke up with a painful stitch in your neck and Shooky nowhere to be found.

“Fuck…”

You tried to get up, but underestimated the cramp in your back and fell onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck!”

You blamed the pandemic for fucking up your sleep schedule. Also, getting old. Fuck getting old and being an adult. Time didn’t stop just because you didn’t go to work. Well, not true. You did go to work; your work was just different now. You were YouTube video editor, which meant you were mostly edited video game montages now instead of travel vlogs. The work was slower now. People were getting discouraged, taking breaks, because, you know.

Pandemic.

Sigh.

Anyway, not the point. You were grateful that your work was mostly internet and computer-based. Not everyone was so lucky. You were also grateful that you didn’t work in an industry that was too negatively affected by the pandemic. It had started off as a hobby, but then the creators you were helping unexpectedly blew up, needing your help more and more. You fell into it by accident, but that’s how life was. Happy little accidents. You couldn’t complain. As long as you had some income to feed your cat and you, that was enough.

Speaking of cat.

“Shooky?”

No meow.

Huh.

He normally would meow or trot over to you when called. He was weirdly affectionate like that.

You were still on the floor, on hands and knees, crick in your neck and back aching. Ah yes, age was just a number until your back pain flared up due to repeated nights of unintentionally falling asleep on the couch. Lovely. You stretched out your back with a groan and yawned, cracking your neck.

“FUCK!”

That hurt. Ugh, you really needed to stop sleeping on the sofa. You untangled yourself from your blanket and headed to the bathroom, rubbing your neck. You still didn’t see your fluffy, seven-kilogram, kind-of-an-ass tuxedo cat, but whatever. He had to be in the apartment. He couldn’t exactly leave. He was a cat. What was he going to do, grow legs and opposable thumbs?

Pfft.

You shoved your toothpaste-covered toothbrush in your mouth and began brushing your teeth. You hummed, trying to remember if you had any deadlines. Eh, they were on your Google calendar. You would check it after washing up. You spat and brushed for a few more minutes, thinking about nothing. This was nice. Sometimes it was nice to think about nothing. No major problems to address, simply a chill and routine morning.

Seemed sufficient.

You reached over to the spit cup and put some lukewarm water in it before taking your toothbrush out and sipping some water to gargle the minty suds out.

You heard a deep, raspy voice call your name.

“Hmm?”

You looked in the mirror.

Wait.

Your mouth was full of dirty toothpaste water, cheeks puffed out.

The voice called your name again, quietly.

Nervously.

Your eyes widened, staring into the mirror in shock.

A pale man was standing behind you, wearing your mint-colored duvet over his shoulders. Messy black hair to his rounded cheeks, dark brown cat-like eyes, small pink pout. His nose was a little red, as if he was cold. There was a black choker on his neck, with a silver bell. He was taller than you, and he looked very confused.

Also.

Pointed, velvety black ears on top of his head, white tufts of fur sticking out, flicking back and forth.

You spat all over your mirror in shock.

“Urk–!”

The man jerked back as you threw your head into the sink, hastily taking another cupful of water to rinse out your mouth because, WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON? Why was there a man in your apartment? With fucking cat ears? That moved? What kind of kinky shit was that? Were you dreaming? What the fuck?! You grabbed the hand towel from its hook and furiously wiped the dirty water off your mirror, completely convinced you were having sensory and auditory hallucinations. Did you drink last night? Accidentally buy groceries laced with LSD? Snorted three kilos of cocaine off a hooker? Who the fuck knows, but there was no fucking way that you let some fucking man in your home, because, one, pandemic and, two, Shooky–

You froze.

The pale man with black hair was still there, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, looking slightly disgusted, but also scared.

He said your name again. A question, almost like a raspy meow.

It was…

Familiar?

You violently wiped your bathroom mirror some more, nearly cracking the glass.

The man was still there, wearing your mint-colored duvet.

Slowly, slowly, you turned around to face this man, your neck cracking loudly, sending searing pain up the back of your head and reminding you that, nope, this is not a dream, and if it was, it was a very shitty dream because at least in a dream you shouldn’t actually feel pain. You looked up at this man, at his fluffy black bangs shading his dark attentive eyes and pale face, chewing on his lip, clutching your duvet around his body like a giant mint cloak.

The cat ears on his head twitched.

“Uh…”

You blinked at him, watching the ears.

“Do… I know you?”

He gave you an eerily recognizable deadpan stare. “I think you do.”

No way.

What?

No.

This wasn’t possible.

You’re drunk, high, or in purgatory.

(You did have sex before marriage.)

“S… Shooky?” you croaked.

The man took a deep breath and shook his head.

“Actually, my name is Min Yoongi.”

You blinked at him. “What? You have a name?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Relief washed over you. “What do you mean, you guess? That means you’re a human being! With a birth certificate! Thank God, I thought you were my fucking cat for some reason, haha, that’s so fucking ridiculous–!” For some reason, the idea of a random stranger being in your home was much more comfortable to you than you damn cat becoming a human being, because for a hot second, you thought… but no, no, that’s stupid. “Speaking of ridiculous, these ears are crazy dude, they look almost real–”

You reached up and yanked on one of the velvety ears.

“Ow, what the fuck!”

Oh.

Oh my God.

OhmyfuckingGodthey’reattachedtohishead.

“What the FUCK?” you bellowed and a large pale hand shot out of the duvet to clamp one of his cat ears down, shrinking away from you.

“Stop yelling, please, I have sensitive hearing,” Yoongi winced, ticking his head, as if he was trying to flatten the other ear too, but couldn’t. His other hand was holding tightly to the mint duvet.

You saw a glimpse of a pale chest.

Your eyes widened into the size of saucepans.

His hand darted back into the duvet and clamped it shut from your bulging eyes, frowning. He quickly bundled himself up and straightened, thinning his mouth into a line. A few seconds passed. You gawked at him, jaw slack. The pale man sighed heavily.

“My name is Min Yoongi. My parents gave me that name. I don’t think I have a human birth certificate because I’m not a human. I am a cat. You used to call me Shooky, but Min Yoongi is my name, so I would appreciate it if you called me by my given name.”

Your jaw went even more slack.

“Cats… have names?” you squeaked.

Yoongi made a face at you. “Of course, we do. We are not savages.”

“B… But…” You frowned, shoulders falling. “You seemed to like the name Shooky…”

Yoongi shrugged his duvet-covered shoulders. “It sounded better than all the other names you suggested.”

You puffed your cheeks, placing your hands on your hips. “What was wrong with Tata? Or Chimmy? Or Cooky?”

Yoongi gave you a disapproving glare. “Well, perhaps in a parallel universe the name Shooky is somehow important to me. In any case, it was the best suggestion.”

You narrowed your eyes, frowning. “You little shit.”

“I especially disliked that one. Seemed a bit discriminating to our size difference…” He paused, looking down at you. “At the time anyway.”

Your hands fell, looking up at your cat. Er. Min Yoongi. “So, uh… Yoongi…?”

He tilted his head, peering curiously at you under his black bangs. “Hm?”

You pointed at him, gesturing up and down. “Why are you, uh… a man?”

He looked down at the duvet covering his body. You stared at your bedding wrapped around him. Why was he wearing it anyway? In fact, all you could see was a black choker with a silver bell. The mental lightning bolt suddenly hit you. Oh. Your neck began to heat. Your ears began to heat. Your whole face began to heat. Oh. Oh? Oh! Shooky – er, Yoongi? – whatever, your cat didn’t wear clothes. He only wore a collar… which meant…

It felt like your whole body was on fire with abrupt realization.

Yoongi looked up at your mint-pajama-wrapped, now tomato self still pointing at him.

“I don’t know why I’m a man.”

One of his eyebrows raised. Then Yoongi smirked.

An open-mouthed, amused smirk.

“And yes, I’m naked. Your clothes don’t fit me. I tried.”

Your cat, er, man? Cat-man? What even... never mind, Min Yoongi was sitting on your bed, still wrapped in your mint duvet like a key lime cake roll, waiting as you rummaged around in your dresser, searching for literally any piece of clothing that might possibly fit him. The problem was, you worked from home, so you didn't exactly own a plethora of different clothing options. Your daily wardrobe consisted of slinky black leggings...

"They're stretchy?" you suggested timidly.

Yoongi had blinked at you. "I don't think so."

"It could work?"

He pursed his lips together. "I think you're forgetting something."

You gave him a blank look. "Huh?"

Yoongi gave you his deadpan stare. "I believe you are well acquainted with human male genitalia."

Oh.

Right.

He had a dick.

You turned red and robotically shoved your leggings back into their place. A sudden thought flitted across your brain and you spun back to face him, blurting it out before filtering yourself.

"Hahaha, good thing I never got you fixed, eh?"

Yoongi blinked very, very slowly. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed, amused, or wanted to murder you. In conclusion, typical cat behavior.

"I'm not fond of the idea of castration, so I suppose so."

Awkward.

Your vet had suggested it, but since he had been an indoor cat and you weren't intending on getting another, you figured you wouldn't put him under the unnecessary surgery and it would help you avoid the cost. A little irresponsible? Maybe. But you were very careful not to leave the front door open and, so far, he hasn't had the chance to get some poor lady cat knocked up.

Unfortunately…

He knew you considered permanently removing his nuts. Yikes.

Sorry, Shooks. Er, Yoongi.

In any case!

The other half of your daily wardrobe was sweatshirts, but Yoongi's shoulders were too broad for them and he was too tall. Why was he so big anyway? Well, he wasn’t exactly big, just long-limbed. You guessed he was actually on the leaner side, judging from the way the duvet wrapped around him and the brief flash of long fingers, slim forearm, and toned chest. He had been a larger cat.

Seven kilos turned into... him?

You suddenly started and yanked open your underwear drawer, shuffling through it to get to the back and pull out a neatly folded dark gray blob.

"I have this–"

"No."

The response was so forceful and dismissive that you froze, the dark gray fabric unfurling in your loose grip. It was a large men's sweatshirt, soft, charcoal, slightly acid-wash, covered with white paint stains. Eggshell white, to be exact. The exact paint color of this very bedroom, because you had worn it to repaint over that original disgusting beige color.

"Why not?" you inquired, holding it up by the shoulders. "It'll fit you, for sure. It used to be..."

Yoongi kept his completely neutral expression trained on you as you reached your revelation, his dark eyes observing every detail of your body's reaction to the memory. Your grip on the sweatshirt tightened. You felt your cheeks and ears heat, pulse roaring in your ears.

Oh.

Er, right, so…

That one time that Shooky – no, Yoongi? – jumped on your back and made you choke on a dick? Yeah, that guy. Tattoo guy. Yeah, well, before that incident, tattoo guy was the friend of a friend who offered to help you paint your apartment because he had experience working construction – “helped my dad fix-up a house to resell for a couple months,” he had said with his disgustingly cute, cheeky grin, making you nod like an idiot and your pussy throb with his endearing adorableness – and you had moved all the furniture out so you two could get it done quickly.

You had to put your cat in the bathroom.

You didn’t want him to breathe in the fumes or get paint on his luscious fur. It was for his own good.

Tattoo guy had appeared in said charcoal sweatshirt, black ripped jeans, and the most attractive thighs in the whole damn universe, just out and about, giant holes exposing tan skin and taut muscle. Your eyes widened, frozen at your front door.

Oh yeah, he had paint rollers too. You hadn’t given a shit about those in that moment.

He had noticed you staring and laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I just wore the ugliest pants I own. It might get messy, you know?”

No, tattoo guy. No one thought your pants were ugly.

You sure as hell didn’t.

“Oh, yeah, that’s why I wore this gross t-shirt,” you said absentmindedly, referring to your four-sizes-too-large, free t-shirt that had been chucked at your head while walking past your university common area. It was a hideous chanteuse with magenta writing, a color combination that absolutely deserved to go to hell, and could not even be saved by the quirky, stylish, thrift-savvy TIkTokers of today. It was the ugliest thing you owned, so you wore it to repaint your bedroom.

Now you regretted it.

Tattoo guy looked you up and down. He smirked under his long black hair.

“Your body still looks great though.”

“… Urk?”

Didn’t really matter that you couldn’t conjure a sexy response, because, clearly, tattoo guy had made his decision leagues before arriving here. Painting a bedroom? Oh, yeah, you did that, and with way too much sexual tension. A man should not be that flirty while holding two paint rollers and speed painting your walls. What were you supposed to do? You barely knew the guy. All you managed to do was make awkward small talk to get to know him better. Then he took off his sweatshirt.

“Wait, that’s illegal.”

He had smirked at you, spinning the paint roller in his hand, white t-shirt molded to his body. “Hm?”

You were being mildly disrespected, but also you were gawking at his tattooed right arm and his blindingly beautiful forearms. Cough, no. You didn’t have a thing for attractive forearms. Wasn’t like staring at this muscular pair was making you weak at the knees or anything. Okay, maybe. But you weren’t going to say it out loud. Tattoo guy ticked his chin below you, to the floor. Your job was to paint the little nooks at the corners, ceiling, and baseboards. You spent a whole lot of your job sneaking glances at him and getting caught.

Shit.

“You missed a spot.”

You whipped your head to the floor, craning your head to look for it. A paint roller appeared beside you, pointing to a small sliver for nasty beige. He had a clear, silvery voice.

“Right here.”

You frowned at it and raised your paintbrush in warning to the offensive beige, ready to strike.

“… Noona.”

You started and fell over.

You sputtered, legs tangled, oversized shirt flipping up, trying not to drop the paintbrush and drawing a fat streak across the unpainted wall. You shook your head roughly, clutching the handle of the brush, cool draft floating up your shirt.

Tattoo guy appeared above you, grinning, his front teeth slightly too large and giving him the appearance of a rambunctious bunny.

“You alright?”

You felt your neck and ears heat. No, you were not alright. Yes, you were older, but that didn’t… that wasn’t the time… You didn’t expect it, that’s all. You tried very hard not to look at his thighs. Or his face. Or his chest. Just didn’t look at him. Also, you were pretty sure you were flashing him and pretty fucking sure you didn’t give a shit.

You coughed awkwardly. “Yup, I’m good.”

Back to copious sexual tension complemented by paint fumes.

Once the first coat was down, you two stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the plastic drop cloth, him banishing a paint roller and you a paintbrush. Challenge complete and it didn’t take you very long. Nice.

“We have to let it dry and then we can paint another coat,” he was explaining.

“It looks fine like this.”

Tattoo guy clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Once it dries, it will look uneven. Trust me.”

You frowned. “Okay. How long should we wait?”

“Couple hours, at least.”

A couple hours? You frowned more. “What are we supposed to do until then?”

He didn’t reply. You turned your head to face him and tattoo guy was staring at you with a smile.

Uh oh.

He was spinning the paint roller with one hand. You felt your ears and neck heat. He switched from his left hand to his right, seamlessly. Incredibly sexy. Were the paint fumes getting to you? You gulped, awkwardly gesturing to the paintbrush.

“Let me just… put this down…”

You turned around and balanced your paintbrush in the paint tray, only to gasp as your felt something foamy roll down your back, covering you with the strong stench of paint. It stopped above the curve of your ass, unable to roll smoothly any longer.

“Hmm, can’t get past your juicy ass, noona,” he teased.

You spun around, cheeks flushed, sputtering.

No, no. You didn’t forget tattoo guy’s name. You remembered it, even now. Remembered saying it in multiple different ways, even.

“Jeon J-Jungkook!”

In surprise, streaks of paint in your hair, him smirking, dropping the paint roller on the other plastic tray and somehow not tipping it over, thank goodness, him walking up to you, taking the bottom of your paint-covered chanteuse university t-shirt, leaning down to whisper hotly against your lips.

“Ah, sorry, it seemed like you didn’t like that shirt very much,” he breathed, sending your brain into overdrive with the heat against your skin, his knuckles brushing your thighs. “You can wear my sweatshirt instead, if you like.”

Your eyes widened, staring at him in shock.

“J… Jungkook…”

In breathlessness, heart pounding in your chest, gaze locked with mischievous dark chocolate orbs, his teeth catching his lower lip, tiny mole underneath revealed.

“Yeah?”

Why was his voice so deep? The tiny tip of his pink tongue darted out, licking his lips enticingly.

“… Noona?”

This man was illegal.

Your hands darted down and gripped his, catching your lower lip in your teeth as well, matching his lip bite, seeing the eagerness growing in his eyes.

Someone should call the police. Or an ambulance.

You grinned, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t want to wear anything around you.”

But not for you.

There was a very loud meow from your bathroom, but before Jungkook could ask, you yanked your shirt up and over your head. He gasped and instantly it was lips on lips, messy kisses and stumbling to the living room were your bed, dresser, nightstands, bookcase, knickknacks, everything scattered everywhere, but Jungkook and you were too busy yanking off clothes and getting frisky to give a shit.

Yikes.

You stared at Yoongi now, red from head to toe, clutching the dark gray sweatshirt. He rolled his eyes and looked away from you.

“I… washed it?” you offered weakly.

Yoongi’s dark brows raised from under his black bangs. “Mmm, you forget that I have quite keen hearing. I’m not deaf like you, human.”

The color drained from your face.

Well.

Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook got you to wear his dark gray sweatshirt, forcing you – respectfully, he called you noona, after all – to get on your hands and knees for him, then make you wait in said embarrassing position with his sweatshirt bunched around your neck – because, er, gravity – while he casually made you watch him roll the condom on, highly amused by your impatient glare, only to move away and slowly shove his dick inside your soaking wet pussy and spank your ass until you backed up into him enough times to make yourself cum on his stiff length without him moving his hips.

Respectfully, of course.

“Fuck, noona, that was so fucking hot…”

“Jungkook,” you gasped breathlessly, ass stinging in glorious pain. “F-Fuck me, please.”

He made you scream.

He fucked your hard, making the bed creak, pounding you so roughly into the mattress that your fingers curled into the mint sheets, and when you gasped that you were close, he fucking stopped, the damn sadist, causing you to slam your fists into the bed and buck back into his crotch, Jungkook chuckling at your desperation. In your haze of begging for Jungkook’s cock, you heard a judgmental meow from your bathroom, but before you could address it, Jungkook seemed to have accepted your pleading and began to thrust into you once more, making you lose your train of thought and all thoughts in general, except your dire need to orgasm.

Jungkook had made you moan for hours.

Right now, however, Yoongi’s sharp look was making you mute. You were so mortified that you swore your soul stood up and walked out of your body, too ashamed to be in Yoongi’s presence any longer.

“Mmm,” the dark-haired man mused absentmindedly, pointed ears flicking.

From spitting onto the mirror to mentioning his possible castration to remembering that you had locked Yoongi in the bathroom for hours to have mind-blowing sex with Jeon Jungkook under the guise of repainting your bedroom walls…

Too bad life doesn’t have an undo button.

You suddenly remembered Jungkook pushing you up against the bathroom door, your leg hooked around his waist, his cock plunging in and out of you, lips on your neck, and your wrists pinned to the door, rattling it as he fucked you, whispering against your skin.

“You sound so fucking sexy, make more sounds for me, I’ll fuck you as much as you want, fuck you until you can’t think, can’t move, just to hear you say my name over and over…”

“Jungkook… f-fuck, you f-feel so fucking good, o-oh, Jungkook…!”

He pulled his lips away from your neck and smirked in your face.

“Yeah… noona?”

Respectfully.

“Fuck!”

Your back arced against the bathroom door as you came, pussy throbbing and spasming, the top of your head touching the wood, gasping Jungkook’s name in ecstasy, slamming your wrists against the door, Jungkook moaning as he came inside you, cock jerking inside the condom and swelling it with his orgasm, lips crashing down on yours and you whining pathetically into his mouth as he sucked on your tongue roughly.

A quiet, disapproving meow below you.

A master yikes.

You deliberately shoved the dark gray blob back into your underwear drawer.

Yoongi pursed his lips.

“Why is it in your underwear drawer, anyway?”

You slowly closed it, the wood snapping as the drawer touched the dresser.

Silence.

A crow cawed in the distance.

“You know what, let me make a trip to the convenience store…” was your hollow reply as you mechanically walked out of your bedroom, followed by a mint duvet.

“Do you know what size I would be?” came the husky, amused chuckle behind you as you pawed around your apartment for your wallet, two masks, hand sanitizer.

“I’ll just… buy a variety…”

“Or you could measure.”

You heard a rustle and you whipped your head around, only to see Yoongi’s cocked eyebrow and a slight bit of his exposed shoulders, collarbones on display, silver bell jingling. He yanked it back up, frowning at you.

“Are you a pervert?”

“N… no!”

You jerked away and hastily hooked the masks on your ears, fumbling with your sneakers before declaring, “I will be right back!” And then you threw yourself out the door.

Yoongi sighed, finally releasing his hold on the duvet.

“Ugh, so stuffy…”

His long black tail whipped about.

The door suddenly jerked back open and you plucked your keys from the side dish.

Only to see Yoongi fully naked, sleek black tail whisking around, blinking at you.

He was naked.

Really naked.

Very, one hundred percent, naked.

The mint duvet was pooled around his legs on the ground and Min Yoongi, who was formerly your cat Shooky, was a fair-skinned, long-limbed, lean-bodied, very attractive tall man, with velvety black cat ears and tail and – urk! – completely intact human male genitalia. Your neck, ears, cheeks, chest, ancestors from generations long ago, all turned red in embarrassment. Once again, you soul completely left your body in pure mortification.

“D… Don’t leave!” you blurted, snapping the door closed.

Yoongi just stood there, sighing as he heard the door lock and a body bolt down the apartment building stairs.

“You didn’t even change out of your pajamas…” he muttered, picking up the duvet.

"I can't wear these."

It was a few hours later. Thankfully, when you arrived home with your purchases, your cat... man was asleep, wrapped like a mint cake roll in your duvet. You tried not to think about his naked body on your bed, therefore ending up thinking about his naked body on your bed.

"You need to wear pants! For..."

Dark eyebrows raised.

"Decency!"

After getting home, you had spent the next thirty minutes hand-washing a black t-shirt, black boxer briefs, and loose black pants that were definitely too short but it was the only size available that could fit that waist, so you had to make do. You put the other shirts and underwear in the washing machine, but you needed to wash at least one outfit and hang it to dry. You tried to use the hottest water your hands could handle to sterilize the clothing, wincing at the blistering heat.

You didn't know if Yoongi could get coronavirus but you weren't going to risk it.

Eventually you placed everything on the drying rack and positioned your space heater on them to dry them off.

Then you passed out on the couch. You deserved it, after working so hard.

Only to be woken up by Yoongi poking your shoulder roughly and telling you he couldn't wear the underwear and pants.

He was still holding the duvet around his body and your neck was still regretting every second of sleeping on the couch. Ow. Too much physical labor. Quarantine had turned you into a formless potato. You sat up halfway, wincing. Ugh, pain. You jabbed your finger at Yoongi, who gave you a displeased narrowing of his eyes.

"Put the pants on, you animal!"

Yoongi swept around the sofa, mint duvet and all, determined glint in his dark orbs, lips pursed in annoyance. You started, cracking your neck by accident, yelping in pain as you fell back against the couch.

Yoongi planted himself on top of you nimbly.

You froze.

Partly because you were shocked, but mostly because your neck seized a bit.

His legs were on either side of you, body still wrapped up, perfectly balanced despite the sudden leap, surveying you with a disapproving and discerning eye. The silver bell on his neck jingled with his movement. You could feel his calves against your knees.

His bare calves.

"Are you dumb?"

"What?" you croaked in response.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "You always forget things."

You blinked at him, confused, neck heating. "What are you talking about?" you snapped impatiently.

"This."

Thump.

You felt something long and furry hit your leg. Your body almost jerked up in surprise, but Yoongi hissed at you, making you lurch back, somewhat stunned at how cat-like it sounded. It was definitely a warning. You were still in your pajamas, slightly thinner material than your usual clothes. It had been cold outside, but your everlasting embarrassment had kept you toasty warm.

Like it was now, because you realized your clothed outer thigh was touching his inner thigh.

His naked inner thigh.

You let out a noise between shock and confusion.

"Urk?"

The long, furry thing brushed against your legs as Yoongi watched you reach your slow realization.

"O-oh... Right. You have a tail..."

He grunted, thinning his eyes into slits. "Yes, because I am a cat."

Highly debatable at the moment, but you were too busy remembering your cat also had a human dick and nuts. Well, not also. Only had? Well. Maybe if you had a seco–

No. No, never mind that. Yeah.

Never.

Mind.

You gulped, trying to suppress the rising heat in your ears and failing. "I can sew?"

Yoongi tilted his head, nose wrinkling a bit. Then he got off you, circling around the couch. You sat up, neck still hurting, but the warmth of your embarrassment somehow helping. Yes, great, trading temporary physical pain for lifetime mental embarrassment, only for such moments to be remembered at the most inopportune times to throw you off guard.

Awesome.

You visibly cringed before standing up, seeing Yoongi's hand snake out and nab the boxer briefs, making them disappear into the duvet. You saw the fabric rustle and then the briefs reappeared, chucked at your face.

Your head snapped back at the force, arms flailing.

"Mmphf!"

"Should be about four or five centimeters. Make it quick. It's hot under here."

You yanked the underwear off your face, scowling. "I'm not your maid!"

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, black ears flicking. He was smirking at you. You narrowed your eyes. What was this guy so high and mighty for? If anything, he should be grateful that you even car–

"You're been cleaning up my literal shit for a few years now, so you are practically are my maid."

... Wait a second, he's right.

You growled and hauled yourself up.

An hour later, your cat was dressed.

Cat?

Man?

Whatever.

Min Yoongi was finally wearing clothes and not your duvet and your fingers stung like a bitch.

You ended up snipping a hole and using bias tape to seal off the raw edges. You didn’t own a sewing machine, so this was the next best thing you could think of without destroying your fingers by trying to imitate zig-zag stiches, although you ended up destroying your fingers anyway because you had to sew small, delicate stitches to attach the bias tape. The area was too high traffic to not reinforce.

Sigh.

“Please tell me you know how to use the bathroom by yourself from now on.”

Yoongi had raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. I’ve watched you enough times to know how to expel human excrement.”

Right. Because he was your cat. Don’t think about it too much. You were trying to take everything one thing at a time so you didn’t overwhelm yourself. Those were future-you problems. Why does he talk like that anyway? You didn’t even know how he knew Korean. Was it because you watched too much television? Yikes.

You rubbed your forehead, dismissing the discussion. “Good talk.”

You realized you would have to cut openings for his tail for all the underwear on the drying rack but, again, that was a future-you problem. Instead, you let him change in your bedroom and went to retrieve the laptop on your coffee table. Plugged it in and turned it on.

All your settings were wack.

“The fuck?” you muttered, resetting your display, volume, brightness, sigh, nearly everything. This only happened when a certain someone stepped on the keys when you weren’t looking. You raised your voice, still looking at the screen. “Did you fuck with my computer last night?”

“No. Oh, well, I did sleep on it,” Yoongi was saying as he stepped out of your bedroom. You growled in your chest, annoyed, but setting everything back into its place before opening your Google calendar. Nothing due immediately, thank god. “Er, maybe you shouldn’t…”

You looked up.

Oh.

Oh?

Oh!

Yoongi mussed his black hair, scratching at his velvety black ear. You noticed he didn’t have a set of human ears. Well, duh. That’d be weird. He was still wearing the black choker with the little silver bell on it. The t-shirt was nicely loose on his frame, the black standing out against his fair skin. The sweatpants were a little short on the ankle, the slim fit showing off his leanness. The sleek black tail swished back and forth.

He was… handsome.

Yoongi looked apprehensive, twisting his lips to one side. “Hmm.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

He shrugged. “Well, when I woke up as a human, I was cold, except for…” His hand ghosted towards his crotch. He pulled it away, waving it aside. “Mmm, never mind.”

You gave him a confused look and went back to your keyboard, typing away. Yoongi winced but you were too busy replying to an email to think too much about it.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to inform you of the following.

Min Yoongi had woken up on the coffee table, fucking freezing because humans didn’t have fur, and because his nuts and dick were getting roasted by your overheating laptop keyboard.

Upon waking up, he had a mild mental breakdown as you continued snoring loudly and unceremoniously, before scurrying away to the warmest place he knew – your bed, where he claimed the duvet and tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.

Is this real life?

He had poked at various parts of his new body, trying to figure out if this was a dream or a horrific nightmare.

As we all know.

Life is a horrific nightmare, so indeed, this was real life.

You jumped as Yoongi slumped down on the sofa next to you, sticking his head and ears into your view, blocking the computer screen.

“I’m hungry.”

You gawked at him.

“What a-are you d-doing?” you sputtered.

“I’m hungry,” he repeated. He had a bit of a raspy, almost growly voice at times, reminding you of a cat’s meow. His meow, in fact.

You scooted away, neck heating. Yoongi followed, prodding you.

“Why are you like this?” you grumbled irritably, smacking his hand. Yoongi persisted, as if you did nothing at all.

“This is how I get your attention, because you humans will ignore me if I don’t.”

“You’re a human too!”

“No, I am a cat.”

“Hello?” You grabbed his hand and jabbed at his palm, pointing to his thumb. “Cats don’t have thumbs!”

Yoongi yanked his hand out, shockingly similar to how Shooky used to pull his paw out when you were massaging his little white socks and he was over it. You noticed his cuticles looked a bit dry and torn up. Lately, Shooky’s paws had been a little chewed up too. You frowned at it, tilting your head.

Yoongi stood up and his tail whacked you in the face.

“Ow!”

“Feed me.”

You scowled, rubbing your cheek. Yoongi stared down at you, face expressionless.

Okay, your cat might be a man now, but he was still a borderline asshole, so not much had changed.

“Fine.”

You both stared at the bowl of dry cat food.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“What am I supposed to do with all this cat food then? I just brought it last week!”

“That’s your problem.”

You threw up your hands and cooked you both some lunch.

This was too much.

You know what you did when it was too much?

You took a nap.

You had dishes to clean, underwear to make tail-holes for, a cat that was now a man, an existential crisis to address, but you know what? You took a fucking nap instead. You left Yoongi with your computer and Netflix and told him to do whatever as long as none of it involved him leaving the house.

Yoongi had snorted. “What do I need to go out there for?”

“Awesome. I’m taking a nap.”

And you passed out.

Only to wake up groggily because your lungs were being crushed.

Actually no, it kind of felt like your whole torso was being crushed.

“Urk…!”

You fought with your sleepiness, somehow worse off than you had been before the nap, scrunching up your face ad blinking blearily. Head on memory foam pillow, check. Back on soft mattress, check. Black hair with sleek cat ears and pale face pressed on your chest? Check.

What, wait?

“Gah!”

You lurched and the head grunted, shoulders solidly pinning you down. He was under the mint-colored duvet. Yoongi, your cat that was now a man, was under the duvet.

UNDER THE DUVET.

“Stop yelling. Is that all you humans do? Yell?”

“Why are you – what are you doing here?” you hissed shrilly, trying to wiggle out from under him, but it was impossible. Yoongi was far too big now for you to throw him off.

“Sleeping, obviously,” he grumbled. “Or I was, until you started shouting.”

“Yes, but this is my bed,” you emphasized, realizing you could move your hands so you grabbed him by the waist, fingers grasping the black jersey fabric. You pressed inwards, hands molding to his sides.

Yoongi raised his head, squinting down at you.

You froze.

An oddly familiar gaze of accusation and uncaring. His eyes were dark brown, not the recognizable mint, but the effect was the same. Pink lips upturned, slightly annoyed.

And.

You suddenly remembered he was a man.

A man who was pressed down against you, long legs around your legs, broad chest to your chest, and shockingly attractive for someone who used to be a cat.

“I sleep in your bed all the time. What’s the difference?” Yoongi muttered.

What’s the difference?

The difference???

You’re a man!

A HOT MAN!!!

You struggled to find words, completely entranced by how close Yoongi’s face was to yours, watching his ears adjust slightly to pick up all the small sounds around him. You opened your mouth and it only made a tiny squeak. The pressure on your chest was becoming unbearable. You were so shocked that you completely forgot that you were still dying. You cleared your throat as Yoongi looked increasingly displeased.

“You… You used to be over the duvet…”

Yoongi yawned, nodding a little. “Yes, but it’s colder now. No more fur. I don’t know how you humans survive. Must be why you buy these warm things.”

Your hands were still on his waist. You pulled them away quickly and Yoongi frowned.

“Y-Yeah, but… you weigh a lot more now…” you croaked. “Can’t… breathe…”

Yoongi sighed heavily, as if this was a great disappointment. He slid off you.

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true.”

He nestled close to you and you still stunned, pin-straight body.

“Guess it’ll have to be like this instead from now on.”

Like this?

From now on?

Oh. Oh no.

Yoongi’s velvety, pointed ear flicked against your cheek, a low hum resounding in his chest.

part ii

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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bleachhaven · 3 years

Text

Soutaicho’s Secret Admirer (Shunsui x Reader) — Part 5/6

Author’s Note:

It should be noted that this story is almost coming to a close...I’m sad to stop writing about Shunsui but it’s time to wrap this one up. So there’s maybe 1 or 2 more parts left.

Warning: A bit of smut ahead. One can only be seduced endlessly for so long without something happening about it.

–

Read Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3 and Part 4 first!

Uncharacteristically, Shunsui was late to arrive at the office. It was almost ten in the morning when he finally strolled in. Nanao would have admonished him without a thought but the dark circles beneath his eyes revealed he had already had a terrible night. She didn’t want to make it a terrible morning as well.

Shunsui didn’t have the excuse of drunken debauchery at some late night party for his tardiness. The last party he’d been to had been Lisa-chan’s Valentine’s Day celebration and that was over two weeks ago.

It was more or less about how his loneliness and melancholy had kept him up late into the night. Something he definitely didn’t want to burden sweet Nanao-chan about.

He had found himself strolling randomly in seireitei at around three in the goddamn morning because simply staying in his bed staring at his ceiling felt impossible. He didn’t have these kind of difficult nights too often but when he did have them, they were quite terrible.

Sure, he missed Juu. But his loneliness was a bit more than that this time.

It has been over two weeks since he had received anything from his beloved Secret Admirer. Fourteen whole days of complete silence from her was quite unusual, and he felt it acutely. Where was she?

The darkest of thoughts had plagued him at night. What if she was sent on a dangerous mission? What if she had been injured? He hated to think it...but what if she was never coming back? Hadn’t he honestly lost enough?

The thoughts spiraled as the evening progressed into the wee hours of the morning, growing darker and more melancholy.

He knew he was not the greatest catch in the Soul Society. That title fell to Byakuya, uncontested. Shunsui was older than everyone in seireitei - a thousand years too old, he’d say. He was nobility too but he wasn’t one to truly fit into that mould, which deterred most noblewomen from considering him.

He wasn’t what one would call conventionally handsome either. He knew he wasn’t ugly...but he wasn’t exactly...whole. Not anymore. Maybe once he would have held some appeal and he had many lovers who thought him handsome enough to have a tumble with him... but the eyepatch never failed to remind him that he was never going to be good looking, by anyone’s standards, with a goddamn hole in his face.

Most days, none of this would honestly bother him. But last night it did.

His beloved Secret Admirer probably came to the conclusion that he wasn’t worth all the trouble after all. Surely, there had to be a reason why he had never been able to have a long term relationship. He blamed it on his job but...was that all it was? Maybe he was just not meant to have a happily ever after with someone.

As romantic as he was, he didn’t really believe in the concept of happily ever after. He knew relationships were work. It was a commitment between two people who cared about each other to work on staying together through whatever. With time, he had put any thoughts of a relationship on the back burner. With his duty to the Gotei 13, and his responsibilities as well as the added burden of maintaining his reputation as the Soutaicho...it was a practical choice.

But his Secret Admirer had made him want. Had made him yearn for a happily ever after for himself in a way he never had before.

He wanted to be loved and cherished as much as he wanted to love and cherish that one special person in his life. But did he really deserve it?

He knew it was her silence that had his latent insecurities rising to the surface keeping him up at night.

So as sleep deprived as he was, he came to the office with a plan. He couldn’t bear her silence anymore so he was not going to. With everything that had come up in the office, he hadn’t been able to finish up the letter he had started to write to her. At that time, it had felt futile considering there was no way to send it to her.

But he had a brilliant idea. He would have it published in the next installment of the Seireitei Communication including just enough information so that she would know it’s him while withholding enough details to still keep it anonymous. He could trust Hisagi-kun to be discreet.

He had a plan, and it could actually work!

If only he could actually find that bit of lavender paper he had left on his desk.

“Nanao-chan, did you remove anything from my desk by any chance?” he asked, opening up drawers and bending down to check under the desk.

Nanao looked up from the training schedule she was working on. “Nothing more than the usual paperwork. Why what have you lost now?” she asked with an overexaggerated sigh.

“My, my, Nanao-chan. You make it sound like I lose things on a daily basis.”

“The only thing lost on a daily basis around here is my sanity,” she said, rolling her eyes. Still she relented. A distressed Taicho always meant a distressed Nanao. “Fine. Describe it to me and I will tell you if I saw it anywhere.”

“It was nothing official. Just a bit of lavender paper I had been writing on…” he trailed off seeing the look on her face. “What? Did you see it?”

“You lost the letter you were writing to you Secret Admirer?” she asked.

“Nanao-chan! How did you…?”

“You forget, Taicho,” she said quite matter of factly. “There’s nothing that goes on here I don’t know about. But I haven’t seen it. Maybe it got mixed up in some paperwork and got sent to another division. I don’t think anyone would recognize your flowery handwriting which you reserve for your personal correspondence anyway. So nothing to worry about.”

Shunsui simply stared at her. He has known his little fuktaicho for too long to not notice that something was off. All this time, he thought she was just laughing at his expense because he was mooning over someone he didn’t even know. But now...that look...the way she said it without even having to think about it...it all felt fishy somehow. Nanao-chan was up to something.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she huffed, correcting the papers on her desk that didn’t need correcting. A nervous habit that always gave her away. “If you don’t have any serious work, I have a pile of forms…”

“You know perfectly well who it is, don’t you, Nanao-chan?” he interrupted her attempts to distract him.

“I don’t know what you’re…”

“Please, Nanao-chan. It’s perfectly obvious you know exactly what I am talking about. Just...tell me…” he said.

He was so serious and intent. Nanao had only ever seen him like that in the heat of the worst kind of battle. She dropped her pretenses as well.

“She and I have both left enough breadcrumbs for you as it is. So if you’re so desperate to know who she is, why don’t you do the work to actually find out?” she asked him. “Clearly the girl cares about you but is terrified to approach you. Who wouldn’t be considering who you are and the position you hold. She is a nice girl, Taicho. But as things stand, she wouldn’t be the one to approach you so maybe you should find out for yourself who she is and do the approaching.”

So Nanao did indeed know who his Secret Admirer was. He understood her reasons why she couldn��t tell him. It wasn’t really her secret to divulge. Shunsui had to respect that despite his desperation.

“Is my sweet Nanao-chan giving her taicho dating advice?” he teased instead.

“Yes, I am,” she declared with a raised brow. “For even I can see how far you’ve fallen that you need advice from me to get yourself a date!”

Shunsui gasped, buying into the friendly teasing. “Nanao-chan is so mean to her taicho!”

Finally, they both got back to work, but Shunsui’s mind was still thinking about what Nanao had said. Apparently breadcrumbs were laid out and he hadn’t even noticed! He clearly had to pay more attention.

He tried to outline the facts in his mind.

The letters were always lemon scented. It could be a shampoo or some kind of scented cream...but it smelled fresh, almost as if unintentional. Something to further ponder upon.

The gifts were always elaborate but simple and he hadn’t been able to trace it through any vendor. The chocolates were handmade so his little Secret Admirer was probably very good with cooking and baking.

The handwriting was very distinctive as well. Especially the way she looped all her Ls and Bs with a distinctive flowy curve.

So far, the facts didn’t fit well into place to identify her as anyone he knew...but somehow, it felt like it was just barely within reach now. As if it’s only missing one final puzzle piece for the whole thing to come together.

That night, sleep evaded him once more. He couldn’t deny it. He missed her! He couldn’t help but wishing that she was right next to him, romancing him with more than just her words. He wished he could cherish her in all the ways he desperately yearned to.

He took the letters he kept at hand in the drawer of his bedside table. He found that he liked to read them sometimes, and no matter how many times he read her words, they still managed to make him feel things. The shape of her words, the texture of the paper...it comforted him.

However, the sensual seductive ones were his downfall.

With all the time he has been alive, and all the experience he’s had, one would think he would be able to resist the temptation. But he often couldn’t.

Reading those letters, describing how she wanted to make love under the moonlight or how she yearned to taste him...it had him imagining soft feminine hands touching him. His hand would unconsciously reach into his hakama of its own volition and grasp his manhood, wondering what it would feel like to be touched by someone who ardently wanted to please him.

It wouldn’t take him too long at all. He would cum, gasping into the empty bedroom, wishing he had a name he could moan. Wishing she was here for him to hold.

Sated, he’d finally fall asleep. Yet though his body was satisfied, his mind wasn’t. He couldn’t help but feel alone on this big empty bed.

That coveted final piece of the puzzle arrived as, of all things, more paperwork. He was mindlessly flipping through some reports after lunch the next day when it popped out at him like well-lit beacon.

It wasn’t anything special. Just a request for more funds to be allocated for a better training ground for the 13th division. Except it was filled out by his beloved Secret Admirer. The handwriting screamed her identity at him, looping Ls and Bs and all.

“_____-san,” he whispered to himself, wondering how he could have missed it.

Suddenly, everything was perfectly crystal clear.

Everyone knew that while Kuchiki Rukia settled in enough to pick her own fuktaicho, the 3rd seat of the 13th was acting in that role in an unofficial capacity, putting her in-charge of all the paperwork coming and going from that division. A reason why she was always showing up at the 1st...giving her ample opportunities to learn his habits well enough to leave behind those delightful missives without ever getting caught.

The lemon scent was from all the lemonade he knew she made for her division and for some special occasions in the seireitei. It was her specialty, a way of creating comfort and homeliness for her subordinates. He had tasted her chocolates twice - once at the Valentine’s Day party itself and then when she gifted them to him specifically. Both facts which had been pointed out by Nanao-chan while _____-san stood right next to him. No wonder she had flushed red then. It hadn’t been out of embarrassment but possibly from thinking she might get caught. The little minx.

He couldn’t help but remember every encounter he had with her in the recent past. Her cute blushes...the way she gasped out “Soutaicho!” Come to think of it, every time he saw her, he felt like she almost called him Shunsui out of habit only to change it to his official title at the last minute. He even recalled the twinkle in her eyes every time she looked up at him.

He couldn’t believe it. He finally knew who his Secret Admirer was and she’d been right before his eyes, had he only known where to look. He couldn’t help smiling, thinking about all the ways he would get back at her for running him around in circles. He would torture her so, so deliciously…

“You have that dopey smile on your face. Should I be worried?” Nanao asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm…? Of course not, Nanao-chan,” he said, not really reassuring her at all. “I am heading out. Be back soon!”

“Taicho!” she called out but he was already gone.

...to be continued.

Tags: @seawater-aurelia-writing @xerneussenpai @yakuzussian-3rd @94z-93 @anywaffle @flower98child @sadhoewinter @mindyourbaynay

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trashytoastboi · 3 years

Note

Heyyyy! I really really REALLY loved your pregnancy and parental hcs for Doffy and Lucci, that was sooo amazing!!! Can I request the same with Kid and Law with their wifes?

Heyya! Thank you so much ^.^ and of course! Sorry for the long wait on this and hope you enjoy~

Headcanons: Pregnancy and Parental for Doflamingo and Rob Lucci

Headcanons: Pregnancy and Parental for Jack the Drought and King the Wildfire

Headcanons: Pregnancy and Parental for Ace (Will update link when posted)

(Female Pronouns)

Headcanons: Pregnancy and Parental for Kid, Law x F! S/O

Eustass Kid

🛠Pregnancy🛠

🛠Seemed like everybody could tell before the captain, of course he was wondering why {Name} seemed a bit more tempremental than usual, why she would get sick in the mornings and eat the weirdest things together. It was hard not to recognise the signs and his revelation came while busy with something and the thought randomly struck him. “[Name’s} pregnant”, at first he thought his brain was adding up to something random and yet when he asked her, she confirmed the facts with a sly smile ‘I was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out”

🛠Kid’s reaction was a bit of an interesting one, he wondered between whether this was a joke, knowing {Name} had the tendency to prank him but on the other hand if she was being serious then he would be a father and that realization hit him hard. That quite literally he would be taking care of another living being. (Kid.exe has stopped working)

🛠Truly struggles to keep up with {Name’s} mood swings, his child wasn’t even born yet and he was already experiencing sleepless nights due to {Name} being hot one minute, then cold the next and angry with him then sad without him. He once shouted at her due to being tired and cranky and when {Name} started to cry, he felt his heart break a little and felt really bad. (He is really soft for his wife)

🛠Quite doting on {Name}, this is a bit of an unexpected side to him, and can easily get worried if she is sick. Sometimes Kid worries if his fear is getting the best of him, and needs confirmation from the other crew members to make sure he isn’t worrying over nothing.

🛠Despite the very unpleasant memories he has of this dish, at some ungodly hour of the morning when {Name} was hungry and craving curry udon, Kid and Killer were half asleep in the kitchen while preparing it for her. Kid cannot be left alone in the kitchen unsupervised and thus Killer was cooking all these ungodly hour meals.

🛠Parental🛠

🛠Wasn’t a common sight to see him anxious, pacing up and down waiting until he could finally go in to see {Name}, he is not sure why he wasn’t allowed to stay with her in the first place. The moment he is allowed to see her, Kid is bombarding the doors. No one has ever seen Kid as nervous as he was when he had been given the opportunity to hold his baby for the first time.

🛠He was happy, and very gentle when dealing with {Name} especially given how she exhausted was. Seriously, considering everything he had seen over the last few months he had a newfound respect for everything she braved through. And seeing the result in the form of his child, caused a very great swell of pride and love in his family.

🛠Kid loves his sleep, always has. Though he takes a lot more of ‘night shifts’ so his wife can rest a bit, and it was hard at first since he was always sleep deprived. Most of the time the three of them could all be found napping together

🛠Kid has singlehandedly been the one to build just about everything in terms of children’s furniture. This also meant that he took up some serious woodworking and made some very artisan stuff. Everything from baby chairs to cots, even mobiles he made it all. The crew is often required to help paint. (Some good ol’ Kid pirate bonding time)

🛠Can be a bit overbearing and over protective, or sometimes a bit neglectful. Honestly, its weird how he can be so fiercely overprotective in certain instances, and not in others. It’s a bit unbalanced but he is getting better.

🛠Kid and his child have a lot of shared traits, from the crazy red hair to their appetites and even some habits. It’s quite entertaining to watch since they are sort of like a miniature version of Kid.

Trafalgar Law

🍄Pregnancy🍄

🍄Bepo was surprisingly the one to bring it up. Mentioning that something seemed different about {Name} and he couldn’t quite pinpoint it, being one to trust in Bepo’s instincts, Law decided a check up was in order, even if nothing was wrong it would put him at ease. The results of that very same check up revealed that {Name} was pregnant, and not even she knew.

🍄Law was rereading what he wrote down, and double checking… even going through his Scan once again to make sure. Seeing that he was the one that had to break the news to her, Law kept a very composed demeanour as he told his wife that she was pregnant, seeing her smile and excitement though did reassure him and make him a little happy.

🍄Being a doctor, trust Law to be very specific about everything. Actually at times it will get a bit frustrating to deal with and {Name} can’t even get angry with him, knowing that he is legitimately trying his best to make sure she and the baby are healthy. “Law…I just want a cup of coffee” “{Name-ya} it’s not good for the baby” “Only if I drink a lot!! Just half a cup, please?” “…I’ll make you some tea without caffeine instead”

🍄Luckily {Name} never suffered with much morning sickness and Law was always right there to keep an eye on her, not to say anytime she got a cold wasn’t stressful but at the very least nothing severe happened.

🍄Loves having his hand on her stomach to feel all the slight movements, even to the kicks. Sometimes if he puts his ear near her stomach he can hear a faint heartbeat which somehow is really comforting to him. Especially after moments like these Law tends to become quite affectionate and endearing.

🍄Parental🍄

🍄The moment {Name} went into labour, Law was in doctor mode. He didn’t trust anyone aside from himself and a few specific crewmates to help with the delivery. He was quick to set everything up, and after a while, he was holding his child. Honestly, the whole thought of it just hit him in that moment, looking between his wife and his child. Law did feel a quite emotional.

🍄Honestly, Law was tired. Even if he was composed throughout the operation, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t feeling stressed, he sits holding {Name} in a gentle embrace, with their child in her arms and when he looked at the door there was every crew member trying to get a glimpse of the newest member of the Heart pirates. (He can at least appreciate that every single one of them went through the full scrub down procedure even just to stand at the door)

🍄This man gladly rocks a baby harness with pride everywhere he goes, minus when the little one might be wanting their mom. Thanks to Penguins input, a baby hat in the style of Law’s was made and a tiny little Heart Pirates jumpsuit as well.

🍄Baby talk… Law always baby talks with them, and if tired enough he can forget he is doing it and sometimes can bring it into normal conversation as well. This is actually incredibly adorable, though some translation is needed at times for those who have no idea what he means.

🍄Usually he has a quick fuse with most people, but the patience of a saint when it comes to tending to his child. Especially enjoys being able to bond with them, most times when he gets up in the night he will fall asleep with them in his arms and that’s the way they usually find the captain getting his sleep in.

🍄Has to constantly watch the little one, knowing just how inquisitive they can be. They are especially fond of Bepo since he is a polar bear and one of the nicest bonding activities shared between Law and them is when Law reads all of the Sora comics as their bedtime stories.

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madfantasy · 3 years

Note

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

#ask #text #diary #personal #my art #miss

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)

Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.

So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.

“Hello, little girl.”

But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.

It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.

“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.

“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.

I hoped not.

Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”

“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.

“Barely,” he corrected.

“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”

I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.

“Yeah, sure feels like it.”

His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.

“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”

“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”

He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.

“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”

“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.

He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”

“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”

Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.

It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”

He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”

“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”

“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.

“My last one is on Wednesday.”

The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”

“You should call my professors and yell at them.”

He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”

“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”

After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”

It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”

The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.

But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.

“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”

“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.

“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”

But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.

“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.

But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”

“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”

“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.

“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.

He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.

“I want… you to go to bed.”

“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.

Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”

“I love you, too, old man.”

He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.

“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.

“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.

Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”

“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, little girl.”

—————————————————

Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.

It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.

The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.

I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”

“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.

“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.

“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.

But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.

“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.

“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”

“But you weren’t,” I snorted.

Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”

There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.

But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”

I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.

He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.

Speaking of…

"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them."

In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.

"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me."

While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.

“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.

Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever."

The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.

A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.

“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.

Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.

As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.

It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”

But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.

Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.

His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.

Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—

“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.

Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.

The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.

I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.

For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.

Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.

He kept a few for me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.

“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.

“This is wildly inappropriate.”

“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.

I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.

Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.

There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.

“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.

Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”

The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.

I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.

But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.

I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.

Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”

His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.

“Take me home.”

Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.

“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige."

Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.

I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.

“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”

With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.

I couldn’t resist.

“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.

“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.

After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.

—————————————————

The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.

“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.

Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.

From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”

It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.

“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.

“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted you so badly.”

There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.

“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”

Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.

“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.

I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.

“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”

Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.

“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”

“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”

“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”

He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.

“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.

“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.

He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.

“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”

The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.

“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.

“I don’t know…”

If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.

“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”

It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.

“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.

“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.

I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.

It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.

“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.

“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”

Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.

“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”

I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.

His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.

But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.

Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.

“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”

My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.

I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.

My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.

Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.

That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.

It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.

“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”

“Gross,” I joked.

“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.

“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”

Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.

“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.

“Good afternoon, Spencer.”

I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.

And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”

Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.

It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.

Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”

In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.

“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”

Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”

Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.

“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.

“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”

“And do what?”

It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.

Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.

And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

| Finale |

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #here to misbehave #h2m #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #reid series #spencer reid request #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #dr spencer reid #reid request

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 3 years

Text

Another One (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! Pre-Civil War (but getting much closer). Inspired by Sam Smith’s “Another One”. Let me know your thoughts! Also, I do have the next part done as it was the first one I wrote a while ago, would you all be interested in me posting it earlier or should I save it for usual post time on its own day?

Summary: A look at the aftermath of heartbreak and the first interaction with Wanda following the incident. Good old fashioned angst.

“Congratulations, you found the one, another one. I think I can finally face it, I’m not the one, never was the one.”

The sunlight that slowly began seeping into your room came as no surprise. You sat up with a sigh. Sleepless nights were more common than not these days, not that sleeping was easy before, it’s just been much more difficult to put your mind at ease lately. It had been a few weeks and the adjustment hadn’t been easy.

Dealing with a heartbreak never got easier.

Figuring there was no point in staying in bed, you got dressed in your usual training attire and headed down to the kitchen. Maybe you would finally take Steve up on his offer of an early morning run.

A quiet curse escaped your lips when you saw a lone figure sitting at the counter already. The one person you’ve been avoiding. As quietly as you could, you slowly began to back out, hoping you hadn’t been seen yet. “Hi, Y/n.” the figure said quietly, not turning to face you. You’d been caught.

The sound of her voice still hurt, but you knew you had to face it eventually. Might as well be now. “Wanda.” You replied flatly as you once again began to walk into the kitchen to make coffee. All the while trying to ignore the way your heart pounded heavily against your ribcage.

You didn’t look at her long, but long enough to see the look of surprise cross her features when you responded.

She cleared her throat which caused you to turn to glance at her again, taking note of how she spun a ring on her finger nervously. You wondered if she did that before meeting you. “Do you think we could talk?” she stuttered timidly.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you leaned against the counter behind you. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The way that her eyes filled with sadness made you want to take her in your arms and hold her until they shone with happiness again. You fought the urge. “I miss you-“ She began anyway.

You quickly interrupted her. “Don’t.”

A hint of desperation slipped into her words as you tried to block them out. “I do though. We were best friends before everything. I don’t want to lose you completely.”

It took everything in your being to not cover your ears and scream like a child so you wouldn’t have to listen to her words. All each word accomplished was cutting deeper into your still bleeding wounds. “You moved on immediately, Wanda. You can’t just expect me to be okay and accept second best after that.”

Her head dropped. “I know, but I just… You were never…” her words were jittery, as if she thought better of each sentence. Conflict was clear in her eyes. “I never thought of you as-”

“You’re with Vision now, yes?” You asked seemingly randomly. She bit her lip apprehensively but nodded nonetheless. “How do you feel about him?”

A small shake of her head was your only response from her. “You wanted to talk, I’m talking. I think I deserve a little honesty.”

“We have a connection, I feel like he understands me.” You bit back a bitter laugh because once upon a time you would’ve described your relationship the same way. “I think we are meant to be intertwined because of how we developed.”

“Well, congratulations, Wanda. You found the one.” You couldn’t help the sarcasm that laced your words. “Another one.” You mumbled as an afterthought.

She just stared at you for a moment, her lips trembling. You pretended you didn’t see the way her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Y/n-“

Already over the conversation, you interrupted her. “Honestly, I’m happy for you. I’d never, ever, wish you harm. Just make sure you treat him like someone. I wouldn’t want someone else to feel how I’ve felt the last few weeks.” You told her honestly.

It looked as though she was about to say something else when Vision phased through the wall, starling you both as he looked between you. “Am I interrupting something?” he questioned.

You wanted to laugh at the sheer irony of his words because it wasn’t long ago that you were the one asking that same exact question. “Not at all.” You huffed as you started to walk out the kitchen, your coffee long forgotten.

You chanced one last glance at Wanda who simply looked down and leaned into Vision. “Wow, I dodged a bullet.” You muttered with a bitter laugh as you exited, not sparing either of them another moment.

Deciding you didn’t need to go with Steve anymore, you quickened your pace as you left the compound, taking off in what was almost a sprint as soon as the fresh air hit your face.

Flashbacks of moments with Wanda kept racing through your mind, making you want to scream. Each time this happened you just quickened your pace. You hoped that maybe running from your thoughts would work just this once (it didn’t).

You must have been running for over an hour when the sounds of heavy footsteps approached, “On your left!” With a groan you came to a halt as Steve sprinted passed you, looking back in confusion. “Giving up so easily, Y/ln?”

Without a word you walked over to a grassy area of the park and rolled onto your back, flinging your arm over your eyes. “Not in the mood today, Rogers.”

You felt him take a seat next to you, staying silent for a moment as he just observed you. “Wanda again?” he questioned gently.

The arm over your face shifted so you could meet his worried eyes. “I spoke to her today.”

It was clear he was surprised, but tried to mask it. “It’s been weeks. How’d that go?”

“Not well. She basically told me she wants to be my friend again and how her and Vision are meant to be.” Your defenses fell around Steve and you couldn’t contain it anymore. A tear fell down your cheek and you shook your head angrily at yourself. “Why am I crying? I shouldn’t be crying.”

“Hey,” Steve said, his voice gentle. “You have every right to feel like this okay. You didn’t deserve what she did. Just take it one day at a time, okay?”

At his words, the tears began flowing more steadily. “That’s what I used to tell her.” You said with a laugh, your heart clenching.

He slapped a hand to his forehead at his poor choice of words. “Alright. No more moping. We’re going to take your mind off this.” Without warning, he picked you up and began jogging back in the direction of the tower.

“Rogers!” you shouted, pounding on his back. “What the hell? Put me down, right now!”

Despite your words, Steve kept jogging, laughter in his voice. “No, I don’t think I will.”

After a few hours of Steve’s idea of a distraction (which was just hours of extra intense training) F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice came on over the speakers. “Ms. Y/ln, you have a phone call.”

“Patch them through.” You answered as you wiped the sweat off your brow with a towel that Steve offered you. He gestured that he was going to be back, and you merely nodded back at him.

There was static for a moment until an all too familiar voice sounded. “Y/n, I was hoping you had a moment.” Nick Fury began formally.

You took a deep breath, Fury rarely ever called. This must be serious. “Go ahead.” You replied.

_______________

“Okay, repeat that back to me because I feel like I’m imagining this.” Steve told you, the look of disbelief from when you first told him the news still present as ever.

You shrugged. “Fury wants me to help run an undercover mission to get victims out of several Hydra facilities and aid in their adjustment with training once they’re out if they need it. Similarly to how I got here. Then possibly help establish a branch overseas like what we have here.”

“How long would you be there?” Steve questioned seriously.

Again, you shrugged. “Fury said it could take a year or two. Possibly indefinitely.”

Heavy silence hung in the air between you as Steve took in your words. “Are you going to take it?” he finally asked.

For a moment, you didn’t want to answer, but you knew you couldn’t avoid telling him. “I think I am.” You finally replied quietly. “I think I’ve fulfilled my purpose here, Cap. Maybe it’s time to start a new chapter.”

Steve understood he couldn’t argue. If leaving meant you could finally heal then he wouldn't stop you. No matter how much he’d rather you stay. “Just consider all your options is all I ask.” You simply nodded and tried to offer a reassuring smile.

As you were both exiting the training area you crossed paths with Wanda and Sam who were entering for a different training session. She met your eyes and offered you a small wave. You nodded in response, searching her eyes. Searching for something that you knew you might never find again. Her brow furrowed questioningly as she sensed you analyzing her. You finally tore your gaze away, silent understanding between you two was a thing of the past now.

“You okay?” Steve asked with a frown of concern once you were both far enough away.

Hesitantly, you nodded. “I think I’m ready to face it… I’m not the one.” Your words were steady. The tone of acceptance.

“Y/n-“

You shook your head. “I never was the one.” You said in a neutral voice, trying to ignore the tears welling in your eyes.

“You just made your mind up, didn’t you?” Steve questioned quietly, knowing the answer but needing to ask either way.

A weak smile covered your lips. “I think that I’ve been offered different chances for what I need in life. You offered me a hand to save me from drowning before and I took it. I think this opportunity is the hand that’s going to keep me afloat. To get me through this broken heart. I need to take it.”

For a moment you thought back to the conversation you had with Wanda once on the roof. The conversation that opened your heart to her and revealed your scars. The true beginning of something beautiful. That moment was a thing of your past now, just as she was. Maybe it was time to let go. Time to try and stay afloat once again. After all, there was nothing else left for you to fight for here.

And there is part 6! The paths are beginning to take form. As always, hope you all enjoyed and remember thoughts and comments always welcome. :)

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courageous-she · 3 years

Text

Extracurricular- Charlie Gillespie

Teacher!Reader x MusicTeacher!Charlie

Word Count: 2707

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Just wanted to say thank you for all the love on “Needing You”! I wrote this up, a little self-indulgently, but hope that some of you will find some enjoyment from it!

It had always been your dream to be an elementary school teacher. For as long as you could remember, you would play school with your American Girl Dolls or stuffed animals as your students. When the time came for college, you’d picked a program that would allow you to get your Master’s quickly. After student teaching and some substituting, you finally had your own fourth grade classroom.

You hadn’t been at your school long, seeing as it was only October, but you’d been there long enough to meet some of the other teachers. You got along well with your team teachers, and even made a few teacher friends you could hang out outside of school with.

It was a Wednesday and for some reason your students had more energy than normal, and it was taking a toll on you. Luckily, they had Music in a few minutes, so you decided to end the lesson early and have them start getting ready for the special. They were quiet in the hallway, giving you a quick break before dropping them off at the music room.

“Hey, fourth grade!” the music teacher, Mr. G said with enthusiasm as your class approached. You students began to file into the classroom, high-fiving or fist bumping Mr. G as they passed. “Hey Ms. Y/L/N.” Mr. G said more softly to you.

“Hi Mr. G. They’re a little more energetic than normal today.” You said, providing a well needed update on the class. Mr. G smiled, chuckling lightly at the statement.

“Nothing I can’t handle I’m sure.” There was a short pause before he continued, “Got any plans this weekend?” he asked you. This weekend was Halloween and you wanted nothing more than to spend it on your couch with a bottle of wine.

“I was just going to drink some wine and watch a movie.” You replied honestly, “Why? Have something in mind?” It wasn’t unusual for Mr. G, or you could probably call him Charlie, to ask you about your plans. A little harmless flirting was normal between the two of you seeing as you were the only two 20 something teachers in the school.

“I had about the same idea in mind. Would you maybe want to drink wine and watch a movie together?” He asked, a smirk playing on his face. As you were about to respond, one of your students came over and grabbed Charlie by the hand, tugging him into the classroom. You smiled and let him know that you would text him before letting him go to teach the class.

You: 7:00 my place?

You sent the text to Charlie, having had his number from staff meetings. The two of you liked to text during the meetings instead of actually paying attention. You didn’t expect a response right away anyway considering he was teaching your students. You took the 40 minutes your kids were at music to sit in the quiet and grade some classwork.

When you went to pick your class up, Charlie was waiting by the door, your class lined up behind him.

“7:00 sounds perfect. I’ll bring the refreshments” he said quiet enough so the class didn’t hear.

“I’ll text you my address” you said, smiling, “Alright friends, what do you say to Mr. G?” you asked, addressing your class.

“Thank you, Mr. G!” rang out in unison by your students.

“Bye guys! See you later!” Charlie waved, again high-fiving some kids on their way out. You turned around as your class walked to the end of the hall and Charlie shot you a quick wink before heading back into his classroom. Friday night couldn’t come soon enough.

*****

When Friday night finally did come, Charlie texted you around dismissal to make sure your plans were still on.

You: Definitely! But I hope you know I will be in my baggiest of sweatpants

Charlie: Glad we’re on the same page, I don’t wear real clothes outside of school, its sacrilegious

You chuckled at the text, making sure to send Charlie your address and apartment number. Your students filed out one-by-one until it was only you left in the classroom. You made sure to shut down everything and turn off the lights before making the quick trip to your car.

Once home, you threw your work clothes into your hamper and got into your designated sweatpants. Knowing that you were having company later encouraged you to give your apartment a good clean, something you hadn’t been motivated to do recently. You lived alone, but you preferred it that way. Sometimes after a long day of school it was just easier to come home and not have to talk to anyone about your day.

Soon enough, the buzzer in your apartment was ringing signaling that Charlie was downstairs waiting to be let up. You pressed the button to unlock the main door and waited by your front door for his knock. When it came, you opened the door to see Charlie carrying a large pizza, a bottle of wine, and bag of Halloween candy.

“You came prepared Gillespie” you said, taking some of the items from his hands. He kicked his shoes off by the door before following you into the small living room. You set the items down on the coffee table before getting comfortable on the couch, Charlie following suit next to you.

“I told you I’d bring the refreshments, didn’t I?” He asked, pulling a corner of your blanket over his legs. You laughed, grabbing the remote and turning the tv on. Once the Netflix screen showed, you passed the remote to Charlie who gave you a confused look.

“I can’t decide on movies for the life of me, so this one’s on you” you said, opening the pizza box and grabbing a slice. You ate and watched as Charlie flipped through the movies, settling on a horror film. “Should have guessed you’d try to kill me tonight” you laughed.

“Hey, when you put me in charge of the movie, you can’t complain about what I pick” Charlie laughed, opening the bottle of wine.

“Oh! Let me get us some glasses,” you said, starting to remove the blanket from your lap. Charlie’s hand stopped you from getting any further.

“I’m fine with drinking out of the bottle if you are…” he suggested. You shrugged, not really caring about sharing the bottle with him. The two of you settled into the couch, eating pizza and sharing the bottle of wine. You definitely jumped at some parts in the movie and Charlie laughed at you each time.

About halfway through the movie, the both of you had finished eating and were now resting comfortably on the couch. However, the movie only began to get scarier as a really gory part showed on the screen. You jolted with surprise and shoved your face into Charlie’s neck, hand gripping the shirt material on his chest.

“You can’t really be scared of this!” Charlie laughed.

“Of course, I’m scared!” you replied, voice muffled by his skin. Charlie only chuckled and wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t go in there!” you shouted a few moments later to the girl in the movie.

“Of course, she’s going to go in there!” Charlie retorted, “it’d be no fun if she didn’t”

“Who said any of this was fun” you replied, getting ready to hide your face against Charlie again, “I can’t watch.” Again, Charlie pulled you closer, protecting you from the demons on the screen.

As the movie ended, you let out a sigh of relief. You quickly stood and made your way over to your fridge, pulling out another bottle of wine.

“After that movie, I need more of this, and a new movie to forget that one”

“I’m down for another movie. But you’re choosing it this time” Charlie said, grabbing the bottle from you and taking a sip. As you scrolled through the choices, you landed on one that had made you cry the first time you watched it.

“Okay, Gillespie.” You said, selecting the movie and hitting play, “Time to see you cry”

“Oh, I don’t cry” Charlie said, a smirk on his face. You made a “let’s see about that” face and the two of you settled in to watch the movie.

As the sad part began to get more intense, you stole a glance over at Charlie. You could see tears slowly cascading down his cheeks.

“I thought you said you didn’t cry” you joked, pushing on his shoulder with your own. Taken aback by the fact that you’d noticed him, Charlie quickly began to wipe the tears from his face.

“I’m not crying, my eyes are sweating.” He replied.

“Sure, tough guy. Don’t worry about it, crying is manly” you said, leaning into his side. He chuckled at you before pulling you closer to finish the movie.

*****

Two movies and two bottles of wine later, you stood to throw out the empty pizza box and candy wrappers.

“Shit, I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going” Charlie said, looking at the time on his phone.

“You’ve been drinking, Charlie, probably not the best idea to drive right now” you said, holding up the two empty wine bottles. Charlie gave you a knowing look.

“Let me see if my roommate is still awake, maybe he can come grab me” But before you could even let Charlie unlock his phone to text his roommate, you blurted out a proposition.

“Or you could just spend the night here” You stared at Charlie, shocked the sentence even left your mouth. It was probably the alcohol that helped. Charlie looked at you, making sure he heard correctly.

“I mean, if you’re cool with me crashing on your couch…” he spoke slowly.

“Oh no, you can’t sleep on that. It may be good for sitting but if you sleep on it, you’ll wake up with a broken back. My bed is big enough, we can share…. If you’re okay with that” you quickly added. Charlie mumbled a quiet ‘yeah’ before helping you clean up the rest of the mess. As you made your way into your room, you turned on your bathroom light. “I have an extra toothbrush you can use,” you said, handing Charlie the blue toothbrush.

The two of you stood side by side in the bathroom, looking at each other in the mirror while brushing your teeth. As Charlie finished, he made his way back into your room while you took a moment to wash your face. When you walked back into your room, Charlie was sitting on the edge of your bed scrolling through his phone.

“You didn’t have to wait for me to get in bed” you laughed. Charlie sheepishly looked up at you, locking his phone and putting in on the end table.

“Wasn’t sure what side of the bed you normally slept on” he replied. You went over to your side of the bed and got under the covers. Charlie followed suit on the opposite side of the bed. You clicked off your side lamp and turned to face Charlie.

“Sorry in advance if I kick you in my sleep” you said.

“If you kick me, we’re going to have a problem” Charlie laughed. It wasn’t long before the two of you dozed off comfortably facing each other.

*****

You woke up the next morning to your head resting on Charlie’s chest and his arms wrapped tightly around you. You laughed at the sleeping boy, noticing that he was no longer wearing a shirt. You tried to get out of bed without waking him, failing as his arm only wrapped tighter around you and a low groan came from the boy.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice low and eyes still closed.

“I was going to go make us some breakfast” you said. Charlie turned so his body was now facing yours, eyes still closed, and arms remaining around you.

“Five more minutes” he grumbled. “If you leave, I’ll be cold” he whined. You could only laugh.

“If I don’t get up, then you won’t have anything to eat in five minutes”

“I’ll buy us breakfast if you promise not to move” he said, voice low and soft. You replied with a quiet ‘okay’ and began to get comfortable.

“One thing though” you said, Charlie hummed in response, “When did you take your shirt off?”

“’mm like 2? Not sure, does it matter?” he asked. You mumbled a small ‘no’ not wanting to admit that you liked the feel of his warm skin against yours. You snuggled into him, hands reaching around and lightly dragging up and down his back. When you thought he’d fallen asleep, you let your hands stop, but when Charlie’s hand reached around to grab yours, mimicking your earlier motion, you continued.

You hadn’t realized that you’d fallen asleep, but you woke up in the same position, only this time Charlie’s fingers were lightly grazing up and down your back.

“Mornin’” he hummed, “Didn’t think you’d fall back asleep, did ya?” he teased. You lifted your eyes to meet his, taking in his bed head as well.

“Well, if you’d have let me get up the first time, I could have had breakfast ready for you” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Breakfast is ten minutes away” Charlie said, brushing your hair away from your face. You looked up at him, a little shocked he’d woken up and ordered breakfast. Your eyes met his and you watched as his fell to your lips. Your breath hitched and before you knew it, Charlie’s soft lips were on yours.

It was gentle and quick, too quick if you were honest. But having kissed him once already now, you worked up the courage to kiss him again, this time taking the lead. You moved so that you were straddling him, his hands quickly finding a home on your hips, rubbing small circles on the skin under your shirt.

A moment later, you found yourself lying on your back, Charlie hovering over you. He only pulled away when his phone buzzed from next to you. He quickly checked his phone, looked at you, and placed a quick kiss on your cheek before getting up and pulling his sweatshirt on. Just as quickly as Charlie had gotten on top of you, he was off and out the door.

Sliding out of bed, you threw on your sweatshirt and padded out to the kitchen. The front door opened and Charlie came in carrying two bags of food.

“What the hell did you order, Char?” you asked, grabbing a bag and beginning to open it. All kinds of breakfast foods laid out in front of you. Two arms landed their way on either side of you, locking you between him and the counter.

“Char?” he asked, voice low in your ear. Your face was warm as you turned around in the small space you had, noticing the smirk on the boy’s face. You weren’t sure how to respond, the nickname just kind of slipped out. But before you could respond, Charlie’s hand gently held your chin and his lips met yours once again. “Don’t worry” he said against your lips, “I like it”

He quickly lifted you onto the counter, slipping in between your legs and placing another kiss against your lips. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, tasting each of the foods that Charlie had ordered.

*****

As the two of you cleaned up the kitchen a little while later you asked, “So, am I going to have to compete for your attention at school?” Charlie gave you a confused look, not sure what you meant by that statement. “Considering how all the fourth and fifth grade girls have the biggest crushes on you?” you asked, a smile playing at your lips.

Charlie chuckled, coming over to rest his hands on your hips, forehead resting against your own. “You’re the only one who gets this kind of attention” he quietly said before placing a kiss on your lips. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for more.

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