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kykyonthemoon · 1 month

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How to babysit a wounded little Hunter

Injured after a mission, you now indulge yourself in his special tender loving care.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader fanfic,

including Caleb, Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, early stage of established relationship

A little heads up: The writer will not take responsibility for any side effect (such as toothache) that might come after reading the fic.

ಇ. Word count: 4k

ಇ. Requested by Wytchie Pie and x

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

You dimly sensed footsteps in the bedroom, and then one side of the bed sank. The acquainted scent and warmth embraced you. A cool hand rested on your forehead. In an instant, the heat in your body subsided.

So as soon as that hand was gone, you seized it.

"Don't go…"

You mumbled in a daze. There was a quiet laugh close to your ear, and then that palm brushed against your forehead again.

"If you don't let go, how can I take your temperature then, pipsqueak?"

You recognized that voice. It was Caleb's. So you acted even more aggressively. You yanked his hand tighter, so much so that his entire body appeared to collapse into the bed, just a little above yours.

"Huh? Aren't you a little too strong for someone who is sick?" Caleb laughed again. The sort of laughter that made you feel considerably better.

"I'm not sick." You were persistent, still. "Just feeling a little sleepy."

Caleb's hand tried to pull away from you. But perhaps he kept it that way on purpose, since given your current state, he would have no problem withdrawing if he truly wanted you to let go.

Caleb's hand patted you a little tenderly. He managed to grab the thermometer with his free hand. He took your temperature, then exclaimed:

"Almost forty Celsius!"

You exhaled heavily, almost a moan. Every part of you felt irritated and heated. Despite this, you dismissed it, saying:

"I'm not... sick..."

Caleb used the chance to release his wrist from you. You opened your eyes slightly and gave him a disappointed expression.

"You have such a high fever, yet still saying you're not sick?" Caleb mumbled, but you caught every word. He handed you medicine, but you did not take it.

"Too bitter." You said.

"Quit whining. "Just take it and go to sleep."

"If I take it… you'll have to stay here with me, okay?"

Caleb sighed. "Only until you sleep, pipsqueak."

You smiled faintly and fast to accept the pills from Caleb's hand. You clutched his hand securely as you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the Wanderers, the escapes, and the secrets in which you were a part of. Then, when you woke up again, you noticed Caleb seated beside the bed.

“You're awake now, pipsqueak?” He smiled at you. He was rather relieved. He put a hand on your forehead again. “Yup. No more fever."

Caleb's presence seemed to chase the nightmares away. You removed his hand from your forehead and held it tightly.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

"Let's see…" Caleb brushed his chin. "When you arrived home last night, you went to bed right away. You got a high temperature around early morning. From the time you took the medicine and fell asleep until now, I've finished a whole movie, cooked a delicious pot of porridge, and measured your temperature three times."

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

Caleb laughed. He squeezed your hand once. "You've just been asleep for a few hours. But it is past noon now. Are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure?" Caleb asked again. "I made a super delicious pork rib porridge for you though."

You opened your eyes wide and looked at him. Pork rib porridge was a dish he would often cook when you were sick and no longer in a mood to eat anything. That dish always helped you feel better, even just hearing about it was enough to make you crave food again.

"Pork rib porridge…"

You could only whisper that much when Caleb pressed the tip of your nose and said:

“I knew right away that you couldn't resist food.”

A minute later, the room was filled with the aroma of a still-hot bowl of porridge. Caleb put it on a little tray over the bed. You lay back against the cushion, staring at the meal in front of you as if it were a rare delicacy, despite the fact that the ingredients were absolutely basic.

You looked over at Caleb. He was observing you. "What's wrong? Still no appetite?"

“It's too hot…” You pouted. “Besides,… both my arms and body are aching…”

It took a quite difficult mission in extreme weather, and a high fever to receive special care at your bedside. How could you not enjoy it?

Caleb read you right away. He said: “What? The Hunter in Linkon wants me to feed her? Weren't you delirious this morning, saying you had to go fight off Wanderers?”

“When did I say that? But it's okay if you don't help me. I don't want to eat anymore.”

“Are you still a three-year-old then?”

Even though he grumbled, Caleb still smiled very gently. He scooped a spoonful of porridge, blew on it to cool down, then held it out to you.

You opened your mouth really wide, making him chuckle. When he saw that you were eating well, Caleb felt relieved. He teased:

"I thought you're a grown-up now and wouldn't need me to take care of you anymore."

You replied, still with a mouthful of pork rib porridge: "When you lose your cooking skills, I won't really need you anymore then."

Caleb laughed aloud. He patted your head and said: "I didn’t expect my vacation to turn into a part-time job for babysitting. If I catch a fever from you, you must take care of me in return.”

You rose up in a sudden and pressed your still-hot face into the crook of Caleb's neck, nearly dropping the porridge spoon.

“Then I’ll cook pork rib porridge for you. Just heads-up though, even if it tastes yucky, you must eat it all!”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

The door to the hospital room opened. Rafayel's curly purple hair appeared. And immediately, your phone lit up with a text message from Thomas:

[The little devil is coming for you. Sorry, I did my best.]

You exhaled. Clearly, he had not done his best. That was why Rafayel was here, staring at you with such a deep gaze from the entrance.

"Er… "Hello, Rafayel..." You waved your arm, attempting to greet him with a warm smile.

"Rafayel?" He frowned. "Do you still remember that we know each other?"

"Huh? Why did you...?" You left your sentence incomplete as Rafayel surged inside. He placed his hands on his hips, his expression filled with slanderous words as he accused you.

"Who are you? Do I know you? It's been eight hundred years. Jellyfishes are walkin' naked. Sea turtles climb trees. Sharks are eatin' grass for free! And finally, you remembered me?"

You frowned. Why was there something that rang so familiar with this scenario? Yet it was still off.

“Rafayel, I—”

“When are you going to tell me you're hurt?”

Rafayel pointed a finger directly to your shoulder, where the white bandage was visible through the hospital gown. That was the real reason he was precisely distressed.

“Even Thomas knew you were injured. Yet you didn't say a word to me?! You left me waiting alone for three hours at the exhibition. I can't believe you stood me up!”

You lifted your hand, intending to remind Rafayel to keep his voice down because you were both in the hospital. But he gave you no opportunity to speak.

"Do you realize how scared I was? When Thomas told me you couldn't come, I thought about all the things that could happen to you!”

"Rafayel…" You finally found a chance to interrupt him. “Let's calm down first. I didn't mean to hide it from you, it's just... I haven't told you yet..."

Rafayel crossed his arms. He was still irritated.

“I can't believe it! You deliberately manipulated me with your innocence so that I would let you get away this time!”

You felt dizzy in the head, and your ears were ringing with Rafayel's nagging words and accusations. The injured one was you. Why did you feel as if you had just committed a great sin?

"ARGHHH!" You shouted and clutched your bandaged shoulder. "It hurts!"

Rafayel quickly forgot the rage in his heart. He moved right away to the bed and gently raised your arm. His eyes were full of concern and anxiety.

“Are you hurt? I'll call the doctor here right away!”

You grasped Rafayel's hand, urging him to stay with you.

“See? I'm still very strong. Just a little hurt."

"How much is a little?" Rafayel frowned. You could feel his hot glare on your shoulder, soaking into the bandage and searing your wound.

"… This much." You clasped your thumb and index finger to form a circle, then held it up for Rafayel to see. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest.

"I don't believe you anymore." He continued to speak with a condescending tone. "I have to check it out with my own eyes."

"Huh? What do you mean?…” You suddenly blushed. Rafayel looked at you with serious eyes, yet very sincere. He replied:

“Your wound. I want to see it."

The mere notion of Rafayel wanting to look behind your garments made your cheeks flame. You withdrew your hand and refused:

“I told you I'm fine… Don't make such a scene…”

“If I don't see it, how can I be sure you're not lying to me? This isn't the first time you've hidden your injuries..."

That was all Rafayel said. You gazed at him for a second. Aside from being concerned about you, he was also saddened since you had repeatedly hidden your wounds from him. A great deal when you did not want to bother him, he always found out and became much more frustrated.

"Alright then…"

Eventually, you had to give in. You turned your back to Rafayel and carefully slipped the shirt collar down your shoulder, displaying the neatly wrapped bandages around your torso.

You could see your reflection in the front window. Your face turned crimson. And Rafayel stood next to the bed, attentively investigating you, his fingers softly caressing the gauze, causing you to bow slightly in pain as well as anxiousness.

“Yet you said it was just a little wound.” Rafayel muttered. It was his hand that drew your collar back up. And the next thing you knew, you were upgraded to the best room at the hospital.

You weren't used to how wealthy people spent their money. You looked at Rafayel, who had constantly been by your side during your hospital stay. He requested you to remain in the most advanced hospital room, with the greatest level of care. More than that, he refused to leave your side even when you asked to be alone.

"You don't have to do this, Rafayel." You spoke as he was peeling the fruit for you.

"Open your mouth." He handed you a slice of mango. Even if your lips stated it wasn't required, you nevertheless welcomed all of his attention.

"I'm serious…" As soon as you finished swallowing the mango, he gave you another slice. "Really, um... This mango is truly delicious..."

"Do you crave anything else?" Rafayel purposely ignored every time you told him he didn't need to stay there all day and night to care for you. Your wound had improved significantly.

“I think I can be discharged from hospital and get back to work now…” You said. “I don't want to bother you anymore…”

"What's that?" Rafayel pretended not to hear you. “I think I heard the sound of abalone porridge just being delivered to the hospital. Let me go grab it.”

You sighed. Another expensive meal he had prepared for you. But you knew how much you would miss these things when you left the hospital at last and could no longer benefit from his tender loving care.

“Maybe I'll stay here one more day... You're spoiling me too much...” You muttered beneath your breath, but Rafayel overheard everything. He pinched your cheek and responded:

“You're staying because of the delicious food, not because of my devoted service? This is so heartbreaking! Then, after you've recovered, I'll make you repay everything. You have to work overtime as my bodyguard too!"

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You crept along the hospital's vacant rear door. You were just hospitalized in the afternoon due to an injury suffered while on job. Even though the doctor advised you to stay for additional examination, you believed the damage was minor. On top of that, the mission was not yet over. You needed to get back to headquarters.

Unfortunately, your escape did not go well. You ran into a familiar shoulder before you could complete the corridor.

"X-Xavier?" You became pale, but not because of the pain. It was only that you were astonished and a little ashamed when caught red-handed.

His look was incredibly complicated, ranging from apprehensive to serious and somewhat furious.

"Where are you going?" he inquired.

You didn't dare to reveal the truth, so you invented an excuse: "Ah... well... The hospital room is quite boring, so I decided to go for a stroll."

"From the back door?"

"Er… I heard the nurse say this is a quicker shortcut to the garden..."

Xavier gazed at you for some time. You clutched your hand tight, terrified that he would not believe that ridiculous excuse. Yet, Xavier nodded at you: "Then let's go together."

Before you could respond, Xavier grabbed your hand and led you outside. It was night time, the wind blew, sending you a slight chill. Xavier took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. That incredibly gentle gesture made you feel more guilty than ever for lying to him.

“Lead the way.” He told you shortly. For some reason, you had the impression that he was in extreme anger over you.

During the stroll, you didn't dare to speak, and Xavier did the same. He strolled close to you, as if keeping watch rather than walking together. You wandered about for a long time, but there was no trace of the hospital's garden anywhere. Xavier continued to follow your every step in such silence. Him being like that evoked even more guilt in your heart.

At last, you couldn't take it any longer and had to confess: "Xavier... Actually... The truth is, I don't know where the garden is..."

At that point, he spoke up and asked: "So why did you leave your hospital room?"

You didn't dare look into his eyes, so you just stammered an explanation: "Ah... My injury is nothing to be concerned about... That's why I... planned to return to headquarters..."

You noticed Xavier's hands clenching into fists. Fearing he'd be upset, you added: "The doctor also said my injury wasn't too serious— Ah!"

Xavier abruptly pulled your wrist, causing the wound on your arm to hurt. He read through your face which was miserable but still faking a smile. His voice turned sharp:

“If I hadn't caught you, would you really have sneaked away from the hospital?”

Your body convulsed in pain, but you were more concerned about Xavier's rage. You said, "I'm sorry... I was wrong... I'll return to the hospital room right now..."

"Good." Xavier responded curtly. Then he quickly leaned down and held you up in the attitude of a princess being carried.

"W-What are you doing, Xavier?"

"Let's take you back to the hospital room." His expression remained frigid, making you both terrified and embarrassed to be carried by him in such a manner.

Xavier did not return to the same path you had taken. Instead, he took you into the front entrance, where many people, including patients and hospital staff, could see you.

"Xavier? You... put me down! "They are looking at us!"

"I want them to see, so they know you intend to escape the hospital and will monitor you more closely."

Your cheeks became scarlet with humiliation. You swore you saw a kid pointing at you and chuckling, "Mom! I want to be carried like that princess, too!"

And you swore you saw Xavier smirking at that.

After an embarrassing journey, you finally arrived at your room. Xavier set you down on the bed. He chose to remain silent with you as punishment for your unsuccessful escape. You saw him sitting in the corner of the room, peeling a red apple for you.

“Xavier?”

You called out, but he didn't look at you and just replied curtly:

“Rest.”

“Are you angry with me?…”

Xavier's silence revealed the answer. You groaned and pulled the warm cover up high, as if to conceal yourself away from Xavier's rage, but he remained as quiet as a cloudless sky.

When he finished with the apple, he brought it over and gave you a slice. "Eat."

You did not enjoy this cold and distant demeanor of Xavier. If he was upset with you, he should have expressed it directly. You knew it was your fault, and he was so concerned about you that he got mad when you lied to him like that.

"Xavier, I'm sorry…" Your hands seized Xavier's wrist, which was clutching the apple slice. Your eyes widened as much as possible, even giving the impression that you were going to cry.

In the end, the ploy worked. His gaze had softened completely. He placed the plate of apples on the bed and used his other hand to elevate your chin a little. He said: "If you know your fault, then obediently eat all of these and rest."

His hand softly separated your lips, and his other hand inserted a slice of apple for you to eat. You were back in the sunshine, coaxing him to sit on the bed next to you.

"I'll give you three days to recover." Xavier spoke, his voice still agitated, but you could feel his boundless care and love.

"Then I shall bother you to watch over me for a few more days!"

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You had just returned to your private cabin at the icy mountain base when you heard a tap at the door. You answered the door, wondering who was seeking for you at this hour, and there was Doctor Zayne, holding a first-aid kit while standing outside.

“Zayne?” Your eyes caught the blood on his face and neck. Snow adhered to his dark hair. You took a step back and allowed him inside. "Why are you here?"

Your team had accepted the mission of rescuing people caught in an avalanche created by a group of Wanderers on the mountain. You had learnt that a team of physicians from Akso Hospital was also on their way. But you did not expect to see Zayne here.

Zayne set the first aid pack on the table and then turned to you. He went on to say: "I'm here to do my duty as a doctor."

You widened your eyes and inquired him again, "Your duty as a doctor?"

Zayne pointed to your abdomen, which was soaked from your own blood oozing through the gauze you had recklessly covered earlier.

"Oh dear…" You cried out. You were so engaged in battles that you didn't have time to look at your wound. Your head began spinning as a result of excessive blood loss.

Zayne's powerful arms directed and assisted you to the table. He put you to the wooden table and took a chair to sit in front of you.

"Doctor Zayne, what are you going to do?"

You noted this when you found his hand on the hem of your shirt. He seemed to want to lift it up.

"Treating you."

You knew that. But you were still extremely nervous when thinking that he was about to lift up your shirt. So your hand was still securely grasping his, preventing him from moving any further.

“I've already bandaged it. A nurse also helped me stitch up the wound earlier..."

During the turmoil, you recalled being stabbed in the abdomen. A nurse assisted you in stitching it up, but because there were so many others with more serious injuries, you let her tend to them while you put bandages over yourself and returned to the battlefield. Perhaps your clumsiness caused the wound to bleed a great deal more.

Zayne used his other hand to remove yours before pulling your shirt up. The gauze surrounding your abdomen was drenched in blood. He slowly withdrew it as you writhed in pain and embarrassment.

"Try to sit still for a bit, will you?"

Zayne's soothing voice burst out, calming you down a lot. You sat on the table, your hands lifting your body up while you looked down at the doctor who was treating your wound. The fact that you had to display your skin beneath his gaze made you uneasy and desire to cover your face. But Zayne was quite professional. He remained silent and entirely concentrated on his work. He cleansed the wound and applied a new layer of gauze. His warm breath occasionally wafted against your skin, causing you to tremble slightly. Even when his frigid fingers touched you, it seemed like you were being scorched.

"It's done."

Zayne said after fixing the new layer of gauze. You were a little discontent when his fingers left you. You were ready to pull your top back down when Zayne lightly rubbed his fingers against your abdomen.

“Ouch!” Even though the place he touched was not wounded, you were still startled and embarrassed.

“Just checking it again.” Zayne elaborated. He had you sitting on the table, your bandaged abdomen at his eye level. You could feel his stare through the gauze, pausing a bit too long in areas that were not covered by anything.

“Doctor Zayne… Are you done now?”

You attempted to keep your speech cool, but your crimson cheeks could have given you away. Zayne appeared to flash a little smile. You felt the icy sensation of his fingertip on your skin again as he slid it beneath the hem of your shirt, then pulled it back down.

"I am now." He answered while returning the supplies to the first aid kit. "Don't be so reckless next time. You have to care for yourself first before you can save others.”

"Hold on." You stopped him. You altered your position and stared into his eyes. "You always say so, but can you actually do what you say?"

Zayne tilted his head to look at you. You took advantage of the moment and raised his chin to have a better look. He had a minor cut on his forehead, and the blood on his body was most likely someone else's.

"You rushed here to take care of me, while you, yourself, are in this condition."

You spoke. His hand found your wrist.

"I barely got a few scrapes. Not as concerning as someone who rushed into the battlefield with a bleeding stomach."

"Whether the wound is big or small, it can be critical." You stated precisely what Dr. Zayne told you whenever he saw you injured, even if it was only a little cut.

Realizing that he had just tasted his own medicine, Zayne let out a small laugh. Then he tugged your hand, causing you to almost lean towards him. He gazed into your eyes for quite a while.

"So, my doctor, will you treat me?"

You blushed again. Zayne relinquished his hand, allowing you to properly wipe the blood off his face. You had to confess that you were a little awkward, owing to your unexpected closeness to Zayne in such a private and calm setting. He probably could hear your heart racing. He supported your hand which was holding a sterilized cotton pad and said:

"If you want to become a skilled doctor, in situations like this you must be even calmer."

"I'm not as professional as Dr. Zayne." You answered with a little caustic tone. "You were able to treat my wound so calmly just now."

Zayne gazed at you for an instant. His face remained calm, but his eyes were not.

"I'm a skilled doctor. Yet, it doesn’t imply that I wouldn't feel anything while treating the girl I like in such a... condition."

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

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Multiverse part 3

You sat in a small room on a padded chair, with equipment set up around your arm, chest, and fingertips. A polygraph test. That's what you were being forced to take. And to your chagrin, Ghost is in the room with you and Captain Price.

"Try to relax, yeah?" Price commented. He must've noticed your restless leg.

"I'll do that, shall I? I've done nothing wrong, other than exist and I'm being interrogated. Because that's what this is— an interrogation." You finally turn your attention from Ghost to look at Price, who's sitting at the desk by your side. "Tell me, Captain. Did you get this same treatment when you came back after spending all that time locked up in the gulag?"

His dark eyebrows furrow in confusion. A sigh escapes your bitten lips. That's only in your...world, for lack of a better term. Dimension? Universe?

"I haven't been to the gulag here." Yeah, obviously.

With an impatient wave of the hand that doesn't have cables strapped to it, you mutter, "Let's get on with this circus act, then. Ask your questions."

Ghost steps forward, his arms unfolding as if he's about to speak to you, but Price swiftly intervenes, halting him with a raised hand.

"Alright then. Baseline questions first. Name." Ghost gives away nothing when you say your last name is Riley.

It goes like this for a few, then he switches to the control questions, until finally moving on to the relevant ones.

"How did you get here?" I don't know.

"Do you know why you're here?" No.

He pulls up a photograph. "Recognize him?" Captain MacTavish.

Another photo. "Him?" I don't know.

"What do you mean by that?" If that's Roach, I've never seen his face unmasked.

"You're sure you don't know him?" Unless that man's name is Gary Sanderson, no. I do not know him.

Price acknowledges your response with a nod, then shifts his gaze towards Ghost, whose head slightly tilts forward. Returning his attention to you, he retrieves a final photograph. "What about him?"

As you look at the picture, your eyes begin to well with tears, lip trembling violently. A new fracture reverberated through your tender heart, intensifying the ache in your chest. Yes.

"Who is he?" Price softly asks.

"That's my Simon," your voice broke on the last syllable. It was hard to not use a possessive adjective when the face of your husband was in that picture.

Blinking the tears away, you clear your throat. "Anything else, Captain?"

Price purses his lips under his hefty facial hair and responds, "Just a few more questions."

Once finished, you sat unabashedly staring at Ghost in the tiny room. "I wear Roach's tags alongside yours, in honor. He was with you until the very end, and for that, I couldn't be more grateful."

Ghost is completely silent, but you continue talking anyway. "I've been married to you since a bit after you came home on leave that one time. You know the one."

His eyes are emotionless, blank, as he stares at you. But you know him like the back of your hand. You've got his full attention.

"I accompanied you to your brother's wedding. He married a woman, Beth. She was good for him. They had a baby, your nephew, named Joseph. The love you had for him was one of a kind. I had told you later that evening that I dreamed of the day you'd look at our children like that."

With a shuddery breath, you tell him how none of those matters. Because your husband is dead, and you're stuck here. With his counterpart that hates you.

With a hushed click, the door closes shut behind him as he leaves, yet its resounding noise fills the compact room you're in.

You begin to fidget with the sizeable ring that hangs on a thin necklace beneath your shirt— the metal is warm under your touch as if it had never gone cold in the first place.

As if Simon had never taken it off his finger to go find Makarov.

ah theyre short but hurt. much pain.

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surftrips · 3 months

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SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3

i. i think you have a type, and it's not me

Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset.

She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance.

Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.

The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?

Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together.

Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen.

ii. mold me how you want me to be

Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet.

Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?

At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?

Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.

Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat.

And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.

iii. kill anyone if you ask me to

A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.

Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.

After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag.

As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her.

“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.

Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.

“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post.

“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously.

“Why?”

“Why…. am I sorry?”

Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy.

When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”

“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.”

“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything.

“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.

“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence.

“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse.

“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.”

Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—”

At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly.

“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself.

“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close.

“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it.

“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground.

“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke.

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.”

The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down.

“Clar, come on, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you.

Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?”

“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now.

“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly.

You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.”

“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—

“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up.

“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume.

“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses.

Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.”

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness.

Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it.

“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around.

Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.

That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.

#WHERE ARE ALL MY SAPPHICS #WOMEN LOVERS #WARNING: YEARNING #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #pjo x you #clarisse la rue x you

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ellemj · 5 months

Text

Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 7

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**Read parts 1-6 first for the full effect!**

Summary: Bucky thinks you're avoiding him because you're worried that he caught feelings for you after the night you shared, but he couldn't be more wrong.

Warnings: mentions of previous smut, profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI!!!

Word Count: 5k

Author's Note: Where the hell am I going with this? Is it possible for it to get even smuttier before this ends? I think that's where I'm going, down a very smutty rabbit hole. I need to be stopped.

You expected to feel so guilty and distraught after the night that you had with Bucky. You slept with your partner not just once, but five times. All in the same night. Inexplicably, you feel almost completely fine, with your only issues being how sore you are now and figuring out when’s the right moment to give his dog tags back. You’re sure he didn’t expect you to keep them. You’ve barely managed to get along for the past two months that you’ve worked together. There’s no way he’d want you to keep one of his most sacred possessions just because you spent a night together. You’ll give them back sometime today, when the time is right.

You put the tags out of your mind as you finish packing up your small duffel bag. The team sent the quinjet to bring you and Bucky back home after confirming that you were both fine and that the chemical had seemingly cleared your systems. Banner initially wanted to have the two of you enter quarantine when you return to the compound later today, but after a brief conference call with a few biomedical experts in the field, he decided it was overkill. You probably would’ve fought it anyway. After the last 24 hours, all you want is to be back in your suite at the tower, to take a long, hot shower, and then to sleep for twelve hours straight in your own familiar bed. Bucky, however, is on a different page.

His mind hasn’t stopped doing cartwheels since the phone call from Sam that woke you both up an hour ago. You’d played the situation off well, telling Sam that Bucky didn’t answer his phone because he was showering. Sam didn’t question it. Why would he? Everyone on the team is fully aware of yours and Bucky’s working relationship. You’re just barely civil with each other when it’s paramount to the success a mission, or when your lives depend on it, but outside of that? Well, let’s just say that neither of you go out of your way to do any sort of partner bonding.

Bucky finished packing his duffel bag fifteen minutes ago, but he can hear that you’re still working on yours. He wants to walk across the hall and sit on your bed while you pack. He wants to just sit there and have a conversation with you, or if you don’t want to talk, he’d be content just to be around you at this point. He didn’t realize how starved he had been for human connection until last night and now he feels too alone sitting in this room by himself. His thoughts are too loud, the whirring of his vibranium arm is too noticeable, and there’s the looming threat of last night’s events replaying in his mind. If he lets himself think about last night and earlier this morning, he’ll end up with a hard-on. If he ends up with a hard-on, you’ll likely notice and he won’t be able to blame it on the fucking HYDRA chemical from hell this time. For the first time in a while, Bucky doesn’t know what to do with himself.

---

You’re definitely avoiding him. Bucky expected some kind of conversation on the flight back home, but you were quick to seclude yourself into a corner seat to work on typing out your mission report from the last 24 hours. He sat in the row of seats across from you and a little to your right, occasionally glancing over to see you still fully concentrated on your laptop screen, typing away. What were you typing anyway? He was sure that you weren’t going to be putting the full truth in your report, so why were you so concerned with getting it finished before landing in New York?

After the first hour of the flight, he was desperate for you to say just one word to him. Leaning forward in his seat, he rests his elbows on his knees and traces the lines of the palm of his vibranium hand with the index finger of his flesh hand. He could ask you if you slept well those last few hours this morning before Sam called. No, that just sounds like small talk. He could ask you something related to the mission, maybe something about the samples you’re bringing back for testing. That’s what he’ll start with. He sits back once again and focuses his gaze on you, clearing his throat in preparation for starting the conversation, when you suddenly sit up a little straighter and look right at him.

“You should read my report, see if it’s the story we want to go with or if I need to make any changes.” You say pointedly, your eyes meeting his. He looks surprised that you’re speaking to him. After a moment of silence, the two of you awkwardly staring at each other, you reach across the space between the two of you to pass him your laptop. He meets you halfway, reaching out to grab it, and then settles back into his seat. You watch him carefully as he narrows his eyes at the screen, reading everything that you’ve spent the last hour working on. You tried to keep it simple. You wrote the full truth of what happened in the lab, explaining what you did that triggered the release of the chemical into the air and how the two of you destroyed the entire facility before leaving via motorcycle afterward. The lies only start when you get to the point where your conference call with Banner and Stark ended. That’s where you write that you and Bucky locked yourselves in separate bedrooms and remained separated for the rest of the night. It's not a very long report, so why it’s taken Bucky more than three minutes to read it is beyond you.

“What do you think?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He stares at the screen for a few more seconds before tearing his eyes away from it and looking over at you.

“It’s fine.” It’s the first time you’ve heard his standard grumpy tone in more than twelve hours. You should feel relieved that he’s acting like his usual self, but for some reason you feel bothered. You didn’t expect him to suddenly act like the two of you are close, but god, would it kill him to act like you weren’t the last person he wanted to be around?

As Bucky passes the laptop to you, he doesn’t miss the way you avoid making eye contact with him.

“So, that’s our story then.” You say matter-of-factly, saving the report and closing your laptop. You’ll finalize it and submit it after the debrief that you’re sure to have with Fury and a whole host of other SHIELD agents and admins later today.

“Guess so.” Bucky mumbles. You want to throw the laptop at his perfect face.

---

“What did you do?” Sam throws the question at Bucky with an overly accusatory tone as he enters Bucky’s suite without so much as a single knock in warning. Bucky had been unpacking his suitcase, but now he drops his folded tactical pants on the bed, turning to face Sam.

“I didn’t do anything.” He answers, though his face isn’t as convincing as his lie. Truthfully, he can’t think of anything that he did or said this morning to have pissed you off. But, in the back of his mind, he knows he did plenty of crossing the lines last night. Maybe you just thought things over in the light of day and realized that you made a huge mistake with him last night and early this morning. Whatever it is that you did between the time you both woke up and the time you boarded the quinjet for the flight home, it put you in a very untalkative mood. You were silent for most of the flight home, and then when you arrived back at the compound, you basically beelined for your room.

“Bullshit. The two of you couldn’t get along for just twenty-four hours? Actually, not even twenty-four hours, because the two of you were locked away from each other all last night. So, what did you do to piss her off?” Sam’s interrogation is the last thing Bucky wants to be dealing with right now. He wants to finish unpacking, shower your fucking intoxicating scent off of every inch of his skin that it seems to be clinging onto, and then get the mission debrief over with.

“We got along fine.”

“Fine doesn’t sound like you two.”

“Okay, we got along as well as we normally do. It was just a rough night, Sam. What do you want me to say? We were in a bad situation.” Bucky sighs, scooping his tactical pants up again and putting them away in a dresser drawer. Sam studies him closely as he moves around the room, putting away various personal items. He’d like to think that he knows Bucky well enough at this point to read his mind, but he doesn’t. Not most of the time, anyway. Maybe he’ll have more luck going directly to you and asking why you’re so off today. He knows he should give you both a break. It was probably a night filled with physical torment and anguish with that chemical compound running through your veins.

“Fine. I’m sorry, man. We really didn’t know what we were sending the two of you into.” Sam apologizes, uncrossing his arms and hoping Bucky will respond a little less defensively.

“It doesn’t matter. We made it out and now we’re back home and…it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.” Bucky mutters. Sam knows that’s about as good of an acceptance as he’ll get from Bucky, so he takes it. As he leaves Bucky’s suite, he walks the few steps across the hall and knocks on your door. No answer.

---

This is one of those moments where you find yourself wondering how the hell you ended up in a situation like this. The current situation being you and Bucky, seated in Dr. Raynor’s office. There’s a wall behind you covered with an image of tall, skinny trees. You can tell that it’s meant to be relaxing, but it just makes you feel like you’re in a pediatrician’s office that’s decorated with nature scenes to keep kids distracted from the needles and physical exams. You pick at the fraying threads on the knee of your distressed jeans, trying to occupy your mind before it occupies itself with thoughts of the man sitting next to you. Bucky sits a mere foot and a half away from you. Both of you are seated on opposite ends of the small gray couch. Why does it feel like you’re about to start couples therapy?

Bucky feels even more on-edge than you do. Dr. Raynor knows him too well. She can see straight through him most of the time, and now that he’s sitting here next to you, he’s scared to death of what she might see. His heart is racing in his chest, threatening to break through his navy blue Henley tee and dark jacket. The two of you rode here together, Bucky offered to drive as a small act of kindness, a peace offering, if you will. He also didn’t want the two of you to arrive separately and set off any alarms in Dr. Raynor’s head. She reads too far into everything. On the ride over, Bucky asked if you were still going to keep up the story about what happened three nights ago in the safehouse. You said yes, and that was that. You would both be lying to Dr. Raynor today.

“Sorry, I had a little situation I had to handle downstairs.” Dr. Raynor says with a sigh as she enters the room quickly. Neither of you turn to look at her as she closes the door behind herself and makes her way to her chair across from the couch. This is your first time meeting her. You’ve never been sent to therapy like this before. Sure, you’ve had routine psych evals, and once after a bit of a missing-in-action situation you had to go through the mandatory ten sessions with a shrink. But now? You really don’t even know why Fury sent the two of you here for this. You and Bucky have never really been close, why is that lack of closeness a problem now? “I appreciate the kind greetings.” Dr. Raynor quips sarcastically. She seats herself in her chair, settling her notebook and pen on her lap, before studying you both. You feel the tension in the air rising and Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Unsure of which one of you she’s directing the question to, you both stay silent.

“I didn’t expect your partner to be as quiet as you, James.” Dr. Raynor says, focusing her gaze on him. This relieves you a little. You don’t feel like you’re the one under scrutiny if she’s addressing at him, even though she’s talking about you.

“She’s not quiet.” Bucky huffs, tracing the lines on his vibranium palm. You’re starting to notice he does that when he doesn’t have much to say, or maybe it’s when he has a lot to say but doesn’t want to say it.

“Oh?” Dr. Raynor turns to you now.

“I don’t know why we’re here.” You answer her previous question, making sure that you don’t sound as moody as Bucky.

“The fact that neither of you can get along, and everyone that you work with knows this about your partnership, you don’t think that that might be the reason why you were sent here today?”

“We’ve been partners for two months and we’ve never been sent here before.” You point out. Bucky’s gaze is flitting between you and Dr. Raynor. He almost seems amused by the exchange. It’s a bit exciting for him to see someone else under Dr. Raynor’s microscope, and it’s especially exciting to him that’s it’s you.

“Right. So, what change happened this week that landed you both in my office?”

That’s a loaded question. You turn your head to steal a glance at Bucky but find him already looking over at you. Somehow, the two of you communicate with just a look. A look that says something along the lines of we both know what changed, but we aren’t going to say a damn thing about it here.

“Nothing.” You both say at the same time, breaking eye contact. Dr. Raynor is immediately interested in the exchange that she just witnessed.

“What was that?” She questions.

“What was what?” Bucky plays dumb, scrunching his eyes at her. She waves her pen between the two of you.

“That, that look.”

“It was just a look, doc.” Bucky lies.

“Okay, we can do this one of two ways.” Dr. Raynor straightens up in her chair, once again resting the pen on the notebook. “You both tell me what really happened on the trip to the HYDRA lab three days ago and I help you fix whatever rift it caused in your working relationship, or you continue acting like nothing happened while this thing festers like an open wound.” You kind of like her. She gets to the point, and though you don’t know her at all, she does seem trustworthy. Still, you can’t just tell her that you and Bucky slept together. That’s a fast track to getting your partnership suspended. Wait, since when do you care so much about your partnership? A week ago, you would’ve happily traded Bucky for a new partner, or even gone back to working solo missions if you were given the option to. Why does the idea of working without Bucky bother you now?

“Did Fury give you a copy of our mission reports?” You ask, drawing Bucky’s attention straight back to your face. He wonders where you’re going with this. Dr. Raynor nods slowly, analyzing you both before speaking.

“Yes, and I feel like they’re missing about twelve hours worth of details.” She responds. She’s good.

“You don’t think we locked ourselves in separate bedrooms.” You make your words a statement, rather than posing another question. Dr. Raynor shrugs.

“I think your reports lacked detail, especially compared to any of your previous mission reports. What possibly could have happened that night that would make you both want to be as vague as possible in a mission report?” Her question isn’t for either of you to answer, but you both know that she knows. You swallow hard and clasp your hands together in your lap, fighting the urge to get a running start and jump out of the window that’s on Bucky’s side of the room. “Let me pose a hypothetical. Let’s say that you both were exposed to a chemical agent that’s designed to make super soldiers reproduce. You get exposed, you both go back to the safehouse, and you lock yourselves in separate rooms like you said. Y/n, with your medical background, how long do you think either of you would be able to stay in a locked room before having to at least use the restroom? According to your reports, you locked in around 9 pm and didn’t leave your rooms again until at least 7:30 am.”

“I don’t like hypotheticals.” You retort, crossing your arms over your chest like a child. You feel silly. You know you look ridiculous sitting here with a frown on your face and your arms crossed, you know that you do. But her line of questioning is quickly approaching the truth and you don’t want to give her anymore fuel than she already has. She sees you shutting down and turns her attention to Bucky.

“James?”

“I didn’t have to pee.” He mumbles.

“You had sex.” Dr. Raynor states. There isn’t a hint of questioning in her tone now. Suddenly, the room falls silent. So silent that Bucky can hear the way your heart is pounding in your chest and the way you’ve suddenly began holding your breath.

“That doesn’t sound like something that two people who can’t stand each other would do.” Bucky responds on your behalf. Mentally, you’re thanking him. You didn’t have a single word in your mind to use to formulate a response.

“Right. But if you think about it, it does. And not only does it sound like something those two people would do, but it sounds smart, if you think about it.”

“Smart?” Bucky’s confused now. Is Dr. Raynor trying to say that it was smart of the two of you to fuck?

“Let’s say that two people who don’t get along are stuck in a situation where they have these primal, innate biological feelings to reproduce. They decide to have sex to lessen their suffering at the hands of the chemical that they were exposed to, knowing that because they don’t get along, they aren’t risking much by crossing that line together. They wouldn’t have cared if they were found out and their partnership was terminated, because they didn’t like working together in the first place. And if no one found out and their partnership remained intact, neither of them have feelings for each other so it wouldn’t matter anyway, they could continue working together like they normally would. That makes it sound like the smart thing to do, don’t you think?”

It does sound smart when she words it like that. But you and Bucky both know that it’s not an accurate representation of your situation. No, you don’t really get along and you never have, but you didn’t have sex while simultaneously not giving a shit about what happened to your partnership. All you could think about at first was how it would ruin your partnership. Then you had a night full of sex that was so good you’ve been thinking about it nonstop since, which led to you avoiding Bucky in the compound so you could give yourself a chance to stop thinking about him in such a non-platonic way. That’s what landed you here, on Dr. Raynor’s little therapy couch in her little therapy office. Fuck. It’s your fault that you’re both here.

“I’m not necessarily accusing the two of you of anything. No one knows what happened that night except for you, though I have my suspicions. I’d like you both to feel comfortable enough to tell me what happened, but if you don’t feel like you can do that right now, I’ll respect it. However, I do want to observe the two of you interacting in the field over the next few missions. Fury is sure that this partnership is the best thing he’s ever created. After reading through each of your files, I’m not as convinced.”

Great. Now you and Bucky have a babysitter.

---

After finishing your very brief and unproductive session with Dr. Raynor, Bucky drove you both back to the compound. The silence was a little more bearable this time. Neither of you wanted to talk about what had just happened in the session or about how Dr. Raynor seems to know that you fucked. When you arrived back at the compound, you went your separate ways. Bucky went upstairs, presumably to skulk around in his room until dinnertime, and you hit the gym. You gave yourself a rest day after coming back from the mission-from-hell, but now you need the high that you get from a good workout. You need it because your thoughts are still consumed with Bucky. With the way he fit so perfectly inside of you, with the way he looked at you with so much awe when you were coming undone on his cock in front of the mirror, and for fuck’s sake, the way you felt like he owned you when his dog tags were around your neck. You want it. You want him. Bad. You’ve been taking a lot of cold showers lately. Now, you’re turning to the gym to try to get him out of your system.

After a nice four-mile evening run and a core workout on the mats in the gym, you decide to take a shower in the gym downstairs instead of going up to your room and risking running into Bucky. You don’t want to ruin your current streak of one hour without thinking about him naked. “FRIDAY, play my workout playlist.” You call out as you enter the shower room and grab a clean towel from one of the shelves by the door. You sling the towel over one of the shower doors and step inside, stripping your clothes off and tossing them over the door before turning the water on. FRIDAY begins playing your playlist at full volume, which is how you always like to have it when you’re showering down here after a workout. With the music blasting and hot water streaming down your skin, you’re safe from any thoughts about Bucky. You wash away all of the stress of the day, imagining all of the bad things in your life flowing down into the drain at your feet.

Suddenly, you hear the door to the shower room swing open and then fall shut again with a resounding click. You continue lathering your skin with soap, listening intently for an announcement of some sort from whoever is intruding on your personal time.

“FRIDAY, turn the volume down to 10%.” Bucky’s voice rings out and you take a deep breath, feeling your bad mood crawl out of the shower drain and back up into your body. How dare he? His next move only further pisses you off, as your towel quickly disappears from the glass door of the shower.

“Barnes—”

“I want to talk.” He interrupts you, and you can see the silhouette of him pacing slowly back and forth through the distorted glass door.

“You have until I finish this shower.” You say through clenched teeth. “Then, I’m getting out and strangling you with that towel.”

“You’re going to get out without a towel?” You see his figure pause as your words still him.

“My naked body will be the last thing you see. You have sixty seconds.” He chuckles at your words, and you can hear the movement of him slinging the towel over his shoulder as he stands outside of the shower, clearly amused.

“Dr. Raynor knows.” He states.

“Yeah, no shit.” You say sarcastically, truly dumbfounded that he felt the need to say it out loud. Obviously, she knows.

“She’s going to be analyzing us on every mission until she confirms it.” He continues. Does he think you were totally zoned out during the session in her office earlier? You know she’s going to be babysitting the both of you in the field for the forseeable future.

“Is there a point to this conversation?” You ask, rinsing all of the soap bubbles off of your skin and watching them slip across the shower floor. Bucky audibly sighs. What is with your fucking attitude tonight? You avoided him all day yesterday. He knows you had some errands to run at SHIELD’s headquarters, so you were there most of the morning, but even when you came back to the compound around lunch it was obvious that you were doing everything you could just to stay out of his sight. He’s fucking sick of it.

“Yeah, I want to know when you’re going to stop acting like fucking made me fall in love with you.” Bucky says flatly. On the inside, he’s angry. That’s why you’ve been avoiding him, right? Because you’re scared that he caught feelings for you somewhere in the midst of all of the mind-blowing sex. That’s the only reason he can imagine that you have for avoiding him the way you have been, and for the way that you’re talking to him now. He, however, couldn’t be more wrong. You were scared that you were catching feelings. It’s why you didn’t want to say his name or kiss him when you fucked. You knew that if you did either of those things, it would feel too real. It’d be too hard to pretend it meant nothing to you.

When are you going to stop acting like fucking made him fall in love with you? Jesus, he thinks he has you all figured out, doesn’t he? You catch yourself laughing. You reach over and turn off the water. You’re just about to tell Bucky that he can fuck off with his demands to know anything from you, when you hear the shower room door open once again, followed by a set of footsteps.

“Hey, Y/n, dinner is going to be ready in—” Sam stops short when his eyes fall on Bucky, who stands outside of your shower door, holding your towel in his vibranium hand. “What’s…are you holding her hostage in the shower? Give me that damn towel, man.” You hear a soft commotion that you can only assume is the two men scuffling over your stolen towel. The towel finds its way back over the glass door, courtesy of Sam, and you quickly snatch it up, patting yourself dry before wrapping it around your body. “Dinner is ready in fifteen minutes, if you two want to eat.” Sam announces. Bucky gives him a steely look for returning the towel to you, but Sam ignores it, turning on his heel and walking out. You’re surprised that he didn’t have anything to say about the unusual situation he stumbled into here. Maybe he’s saving it for later.

Bucky’s just about to ask his question again, the one about when you’ll stop acting like he’s in love with you, when you push the shower door open and step out in front of him. Covered only by that damn towel. He wants to pretend like he’s unbothered, but the way a tent is forming in his jeans throws that plan out the window. You have an effect on him and you’re fully aware of it.

“Fucking didn’t make you fall in love with me?” You ask innocently, standing just six inches in front of him and looking up into his eyes. His eyes leave yours for a moment, his gaze raking down your body and leaving heat in its wake. He takes in your messy bun, the way the towel is so tightly hugged around your curves, and the way water is dripping down your legs. Fuck, he wants to lick every single drop off of your skin. He wants to start at your ankles and kiss, lick, and suck his way up to your inner thighs. When he meets your stare once again, you’re smirking at him. “Answer the question, Barnes.” You use a specific tone of voice this time, one that you usually reserve for seductive purposes in the field. It makes him swallow hard and you note the way his jaw flexes. Hmm, you’ve seen his jaw flex like that before. You take one step forward, closing the minimal space between the two of you, letting your towel-covered chest lightly brush against him as you begin trailing your fingertips down the right sleeve of his Henley tee. He’s temporarily frozen in place, his eyes watching the movements of your hand closely, before he quickly steps back and tsks at you. He shakes his head as annoyed look takes over his features.

“Don’t fuck with me, Y/n. Dr. Raynor isn’t here to supervise the tension.” His words send heat rushing through your body, a heat that settles in your cheeks and between your legs. You hate how the threatening tone of his voice combined with his choice of words makes you long to be underneath him again, but you’re sure he’s just playing a sick game with you. You wish the horny part of you would remember that, that this is just a fucked up game. It isn’t real. But you know what? If he wants to play this fucked up game, you’ll make sure you win it. He can act like he doesn’t want you, but his reactions to everything you do sends a different message.

You’ll just have to play this game until he admits that he wants you as much as you want him. Maybe you'll give him his dog tags back as a consolation prize when you win.

Next Part

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes smut

1K notes · View notes

hidden-ember · 2 months

Text

simon says

🗯 pairing: captain john price x fem!reader | simon ghost riley x fem!reader

🗯 tags: nsfw - mdni, cucking, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected pinv, established relationship, praise, ooc as fuck i'm sure

a/n: this one was incredibly self indulgent, so i got a little carried away with it. i fully intend to do a pt. 2 if you all want that!

You couldn’t believe the situation you found yourself in: your husband of several years just confessed to you he had always had a fantasy of watching you with another man. You expressed that you weren’t opposed to the idea; as long as it was something he truly wanted then you’d do your best to please him.

When he threw out some names of people you may be interested in he never expected to see a spark of desire in your eyes as he mentioned his former boss.

“Oh really?” Ghost asked with a raise of his eyebrow, his tone laced with amusement.

“Y-yeah,” you said shyly, not wanting to go into detail about how attractive you found Captain Price.

The older man led Simon in a specialized task force for a few years, both having since moved on to different military ventures and then retirement.

Price had always caught your eye at any get-together he and the rest of Ghost’s former team would attend, and you had never imagined revealing this attraction to your husband. Until now.

Any time he would tower over you while making small talk, cerulean eyes subtly trailing down to your lips and chest before meeting your gaze you had to fight to keep your face from flushing.

Your dreams the nights after these gatherings would be filled with visions of the Captain buried between your legs, his facial hair prickling your skin as he worked you with his mouth until your legs were trembling.

Ghost cleared his throat, sensing you were deep in thought. “I’ll text him now?”

Once you gave him the go ahead he reached for his phone. His fingers trembled slightly as he tapped out a message, inviting Price over Friday evening for some ‘fun’.

He tossed his phone down and leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “I’m going to enjoy watching you with him.”

“I hope so, Simon, because I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise,” you responded, pulling back to look at him. You wanted him to know even though you were indulging him in this fantasy, you would never imagine being unfaithful to him without his knowledge and without him being involved.

Ghost met your gaze, his eyes filled with appreciation and desire for you. “I know, love.”

You left it at that, both carrying on with the rest of your week without mentioning it again until shortly before Price’s arrival.

“You’re still okay with this, yeah?” Ghost wrapped his arms around you from behind as you did your makeup in the mirror.

“More than okay,” you reassured him as he tugged at your earlobe with his teeth.

“Easy now,” he chuckled, a hint of warning in his tone.

That was the best thing about this arrangement. You had always been attracted to Price and were eager to explore that, but you were most looking forward to what came after.

You knew that once he watched Price fuck you, Ghost would be ravenous. You had a long night ahead of him proving to you that while he may allow another man to touch you, they’d never be able to touch you better than he could.

“I don’t know what to wear.” Your face grew hot as you began wondering what Price would think when he saw you again.

“Anything,” Ghost replied firmly. “You look great in anything.”

“Well I have that dress from-,” you paused when he began shaking his head.

“That won’t be necessary,” he murmured against your neck, trailing soft kisses down it as his hands settled on your stomach. “You’ll be waiting for us in the bedroom, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you whispered, realization dawning on you that he was suggesting you wear lingerie.

"Hmmm. Price seems like the type to enjoy white." You thought out loud, a lace baby doll you had in your dresser coming to mind. "Something about corrupting a good girl."

“S’that what you are?” Ghost smirked while making eye contact with you in the mirror.

You laughed away his teasing, knowing he was only attempting to get you riled up. “Oh, please. If anyone’s corrupted me it’s you, but let me have my fun.”

"That's perfect," he agreed, his eyes roaming over the reflection of your body, envisioning the delicate white lace. "He's going to love seeing you like that." He leaned in close and whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky, “And so will I.”

His stiffening cock was now pressing firmly into the small of your back and you grinned at him in the mirror. “I can see you’re very excited about this.”

Ghost's eyes darted downward before meeting yours again, a mix of embarrassment and desire flushing his cheeks. "Not every day my wife offers up herself and her body for another man," he confessed with a shrug that did little to hide his arousal.

“Don’t be embarrassed, love.” You squeezed his hands reassuringly. “It’s hot you’re so into this.”

"Thank you," Ghost whispered as he wrapped his arms around you tighter. "I just want to make sure everything is perfect for Price tonight. He deserves it."

“Yeah? Deserves to fuck your wife?” You teased, knowing it would only make the hardness poking into your back ache even more.

Ghost chuckled darkly at your words. "Yeah, he does," he growled while pressing his hips forward slightly into you with a noticeable amount of possession in his movement. "And I plan to enjoy every filthy second of it."

You spun around to face him, and he immediately stepped forward, pushing you into the edge of the vanity. Ghost groaned as he felt your hands slip beneath his shirt to stroke his stomach, a thick layer of fat having formed over his abs since retirement that drove you crazy in all the right ways.

"Don't tease me like that," he warned when your fingers moved higher up his chest.

"Fine,” you conceded with a soft sigh, sliding out from under his shirt. “I’ll keep my hands to myself until he arrives.”

"That’s a good girl," he praised, loving how aroused you were getting. He pulled back slightly but kept his hands on your waist. "Now, why don't you get dressed and wait for us on the bed, hmm?”

As you moved to put on the white lace number and matching silk thong you knew both men would adore you in, Ghost left for the living room, leaving your bedroom door slightly ajar. You bit down on your lip nervously when you heard the doorbell buzz not even a few minutes later.

Ghost’s heart raced with anticipation as he approached the front door and saw Price’s silhouette against the dim street light shining through the glass. He knew you were waiting for them in the bedroom, dressed in the lingerie that he had helped pick out and he had to make an effort to appear nonchalant as he opened the door for Price.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart rate quickening as you heard the Captain’s commanding voice fill your home. Their conversation was muffled, but the distinct sound of ice and alcohol being poured made you smirk to yourself.

The pair catching up over a drink like former colleagues while you were waiting in the bedroom like a piece of meat to be devoured only added to your arousal, the wetness gathering between your legs becoming more prominent the longer they left you alone. Ghost seemed to be carrying most of the conversation for once, probably out of sheer excitement.

Price appeared to be enjoying himself as well, laughing at something Ghost said before they made their way to the bedroom together.

As they entered the room your eyes darted between your husband and his friend, unsure who to look at. The click of the door closing echoed through your mind as you pictured what was about to happen.

Ghost took a step towards you, his eyes fixed on your body as he admired the sexy lingerie that clung to your curves. He couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness as he turned to look at Price, who was now standing close behind him.

He swallowed hard, the bob of his Adam's apple betraying his nervousness, before stepping to the side and sitting in the armchair at the corner of your room.

Price looked you up and down slowly, taking in every inch of your exposed body. His eyes lingered on your full breasts before traveling back up to meet yours.

"You look bloody incredible, Mrs. Riley," he smirked, knowing it would drive Ghost mad to hear you being referred to with his last name. You were his after all and Price would do well to remember that. You glanced at Simon briefly, surprised to see his face beaming with pride rather than annoyance as he watched Price approach you.

“Thank you, John,” you blushed, having to crane your neck to look at him the closer he got to the bed. The lamp in the corner illuminated his face as he stood before you and you noticed even more gray hair dusting his temples and beard than the last time you saw him.

He wasted no time before kneeling down, his calloused hands running up and down your thighs lightly before stopping at your knees. You were sure your face was completely bright red now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Oh, sweet thing,” Price let out a breath as he spread your legs. “You’re soaked already.”

He placed a kiss to your core through your panties, holding eye contact with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Ghost sat up a little straighter in his seat at the sight.

The silk fabric clung to your folds now, saturated with your arousal. You felt yourself throbbing now, cunt desperate for attention. Many nights you had dreamed of being in this exact position, his handsome face staring up at you from between your legs.

Disappointment must have been evident on your face as Price pulled back and shifted on his feet, moving to lean over you. Your pouting drew a raspy chuckle out of your husband.

“Needy girl you have, Simon,” Price observed with a small smile, turning to look at him. He gave a single nod in response, eager for Price to continue.

With gentle hands he brushed your hair behind your shoulders as his gaze roamed your chest, his hum of satisfaction reverberating through the room. He unfastened the clasp on the front of the baby doll, letting it fall off of you and onto the bed.

Your nipples hardened as the cool air hit your skin. Price’s hands found their way to your breasts immediately, beginning to roll his thumbs over your nipples in tight circles. He studied your face closely as it contorted in pleasure, admired the way your breath caught in your throat audibly at the sensation.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck you,” Price whispered into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps on your skin. His lips brushed against your earlobe and your eyes widened, finding Ghost’s. He watched you with a hunger and possessiveness you had never seen from him before, clearly having heard what the other man said to you.

You gasped in surprise when Price’s lips latched onto your nipple, too distracted by Simon to realize he had wandered lower once more. You moaned softly as his tongue circled the hardened bud, back arching as he squeezed your other breast roughly.

Ghost watched attentively from his corner seat, a mix of arousal and pride coursing through him. He could tell by the way that you were responding that Price was taking good care of you, making sure you were enjoying every moment.

Price’s mouth left your tit and he captured your lips in a kiss. It felt strange at first but you softened, losing yourself to the feeling of him. The kiss deepend as Price’s tongue slid past your lips, tasting you for the first time. His hands wandered down your body, teasingly grazing the hem of your panties before finally slipping beneath to run along your slick folds.

“All this for me, hm?” Price murmured against your lips.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered. A half truth. It was for him, yes. But it was just as much for Simon, who was now palming himself through his jeans.

Seeing how excited you were already, he didn’t hesitate to part your folds, circling your entrance once before pumping two fingers inside of you. You let out an exasperated gasp and squirmed as he did.

“Oh, c’mon, angel. I know you can take it.” He winked at you before continuing. “This is nothing compared to your husband’s cock,” he said playfully before curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting faster now.

"That's a good girl," he praised you as he felt your relax around his fingers, rewarding you by pressing circles into your swollen clit in a steady rhythm with his thumb.

Ghost could tell by the sounds you were making that you were getting close already, the thought only serving to fuel his arousal. His chest tightened as he watched Price work you open. You faintly made out the sound of a zipper as your senses started to be overloaded, vision blurry and ears ringing.

“Fuck, John. I’m close,” you moaned, wrapping your arms around his free one to steady yourself as your climax rapidly approached. His muscles tensed under your grip; he was every bit as strong as you had imagined.

Price tutted at you, shaking his head. “Ask your husband for permission, dear.”

“Simon,” you pleaded. “Simon, please, I-” your breath was coming in ragged gasps, leaving you incapable of forming a full sentence.

“Let go, love,” you heard him from the corner of the room. The way his voice strained told you that he was stroking his cock as he listened to you begging for release. Begging him despite another man being the one to drive you to orgasm.

Price grabbed you by the chin, angling it upwards and pressing his lips to yours, stifling your cries of pleasure as you came undone. As if he could keep your release all to himself like this, swallowing it down so Ghost couldn’t have it.

Ghost watched intently as Price took control of the situation, his body tense with anticipation for what was about to happen. He could feel his own climax building inside him, mirroring your pleasure as he listened to your cries of ecstasy being muffled by the other man’s kiss.

As Price continued to milk your orgasm, he leaned down and whispered into your ear, this time low enough that Ghost couldn’t hear, “You were never quite this pretty all the times I’ve imagined you coming.”

He pulled away slowly, leaving you panting and covered in sweat. His eyes met Ghost’s once more before he finally released you from his grasp. You sat at the edge of the bed, legs trembling as you tried to catch your breath. He pulled your panties off, eyes glued to your glistening cunt.

“Lie back for me, sweetheart,” John ordered as he moved for his zipper, desperate to free his throbbing cock. You did as he said, gaze locked on his crotch as he tugged down his pants and boxers.

As his cock sprang free, you hated the way you instantly noticed it wasn’t as big as Ghost’s. It wasn’t small by any means, maybe even a bit longer, but not as thick. You had gotten so used to feeling stuffed full by Ghost that now a part of you was anxious to have another man for the first time in years. What if you were spoiled? What if your husband had ruined you for all other cocks?

You glanced in his direction, noting the small smirk tugging at his lips and you knew he was aware of exactly what was on your mind. Smug bastard, you thought to yourself before returning your attention to Price, opening your legs wider for him.

Ghost’s expression remained impassive as he watched Price line himself up and penetrate you. His hand twitched unconsciously, the urge to reach out and claim what was rightfully his burning within him. But he held back, remaining silent and still, his hand freezing on his cock.

You moaned as Price buried himself to the hilt, having quickly forgotten any anxiety you were feeling a moment before. He let you adjust to his length before pulling out completely and slamming his hips forward, causing you to yelp. Ghost began pumping himself again as he saw how rough his friend was with you, how well you were taking him.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he pounded into you. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

His arms fell to either side of your head as he leaned in to nibble at your neck. From this angle his gut pushed into your stomach - the only distinction between the sensation of his and your husband’s was John’s more pronounced happy trail.

He reached down between the two of you and began roughly rubbing at your sensitive clit again. His tempo didn't falter and he was hitting your g-spot with each stroke, white-hot pleasure clouding your mind and turning you into a mumbling mess beneath him.

“Yeah? Like that?” Price cooed at you and your toes curled. He kept up his pace, relentlessly pummeling you.

“Yes. God, yes,” you whined. The sounds of skin on skin and moaning filled the room from all three of you now.

Your walls contracted around Price and your back arched, pressing your bodies flush together as you surrendered yourself to him completely.

“Come for me,” he encouraged with a hint of ownership. Not of you, but of this orgasm. The last one may have been for Ghost, but this one would be for him.

He thrust into you more deliberately now, bottoming out each time. You let out a strangled moan as you climaxed again. Ghost came with you, spurting into his hand as he squeezed his cock tightly, his own sounds of pleasure drowned out by yours.

You whimpered as John suddenly pulled out of you and moved to stand at the edge of the bed. “C’mere,” he croaked, quickly sitting you up and bringing your head down towards his cock.

“You didn’t think I’d let anyone else finish inside that pretty little pussy of yours, did you?” Ghost murmured from the corner, voice hoarse as he was spent from his own release.

You shifted your gaze to Simon before parting your lips for Price. “Mm, see how you taste on another man’s cock?” He taunted as you wrapped your mouth around the head.

Though your eyes stayed glued to Ghost’s, you attempted a nod in response. Tears pricked your eyes as you slowly took more of his shaft into your mouth.

“Simon says you’re good with your mouth. I intend to take full advantage of that,” he said, grunting as he pushed himself deep into your throat, your eyes returning to him.

As you moaned around his cock he smirked down at you. "Oh, you like it rough, do you?" He quickly lost control, hips meeting your face as he thrust in rhythm with your mouth.

You had mixture of saliva and pre-cum running down your chin now, mascara staining your cheeks. Ghost had you in a similar state countless times before while fucking your face, but seeing you like this wrapped around someone else's cock was turning him on in an entirely new way.

In an attempt to prolong his release, Price tangled his fingers into your hair, holding you in place at the base of his cock. When you gagged he loosened his grip, allowing you to back off a bit before you started bobbing your head on his length again. "That feels incredible," he said, admiring the way you milked his cock.

His balls were already tight, and you pushed him over the edge once you began to caress them with feather-light touches. He threw his head back with a low groan, frame tensing as he shot thick ropes of cum down your throat. His hips jerked forward as you hollowed out your cheeks. You swallowed most of his spend and pulled off of his cock with a satisfied moan.

He brushed the hair away from your face, his chest heaving as he looked down at you. His thumb trailed over your bottom lip, collecting the bit of cum that had dribbled out. He held it there for you, waiting for you to clean it off. You took it into your mouth, taking your time cleaning him, savoring the taste as you swirling your tongue around his finger. He pulled it out with a loud pop once he caught his breath.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, referring to your performance just as much as your disheveled appearance.

“That she is,” Ghost said, rising from his seat, looking at you with a predatory gaze. He tucked his still semi-hard cock into his pants and your stomach tightened at the sight.

Price zipped himself up as well and turned to Ghost. You were surprised he wouldn’t be staying, but it was clear the two men had discussed all the details beforehand.

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t want anyone here for the depraved things I’m gonna do to you,” Ghost threatened in a low tone that had you clenching around nothing. Price let out a hearty laugh before turning back to you.

“Thank you for being so good for me,” he murmured and cupped your face in his hands. When Ghost cleared his throat behind him, he corrected himself with a sheepish grin. “Good for us.”

He gave you a genuine smile and a soft kiss on the forehead before leaving for the front door with Ghost. They exchanged goodbyes and the last you heard from Price as you walked to the doorway was, “Don’t be a stranger now, Simon.”

Shortly after you heard the door swing shut your husband was on you. “Alright, back to bed with you,” Simon grinned, smacking your ass playfully. You giggled, walking backwards, eyes never leaving him as he stripped.

“You’re mine,” he reminded you with a growl before his lips crashed into yours, the two of you falling onto the bed.

#cod smut #price x reader #ghost x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price smut #captain price smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut #*mine

702 notes · View notes

sunny44 · 3 months

Text

The exes club

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex!reader, ex wags x fem!reader

Warnings: ex wags.

Summary: Where all the ex wags are best friends.

Yourusername instagram post

Liked by @maxverstappen, @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna and other 174829

Yourusername the exes club is reunited again

Ps: for sure the best part of ours relationship

Tagged: @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna

Isahernáez I miss this so much

Yourusername and I missed you

Luisinhaoliveira love you babes

Yourusername love you more girlfriend

Maxverstappen I can see you’re having fun

Liked by Yourusername

Love4wags I love that the best wags are bestfriends

Mv33fan I miss y/n and Max together

User81 I hate the fact that y/n explicitly say that she doesn’t like the current wag

F1lovelywags

Model Y/n Y/L/N talking about the comments of her not liking the new wags.

Y/n was Max Verstappen's girlfriend until a few months ago when they decided to end their relationship.

She and the other ex-WAGs were often seen together in the paddock during race weekends, emphasizing that they were and still are best friends.

Fans are now commenting on her latest post, suggesting that she dislikes the new WAGs just because she shared that she and the other exes were out having fun.

Yourusername instagram stories

“It’s race weekend”

I was invited to attend the weekend in Monza.

It had been a while since I attended any races; it lost its appeal after Max and I broke up. We decided it was for the best, as my modeling career consumed all my time, just like his racing career did to him.

We no longer had time for each other, and it was driving us apart. So, the best decision for both of us was to take a break, which ultimately led to the end.

But here I was again, at a race, hoping everything would go well without any stress.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N." I turned around to see someone from SKY Sports. "Could you give a brief interview?"

"Of course," I agreed, controlling to not roll my eyes as giving interviews was the last thing I wanted to do today.

"We saw your statement in your latest YouTube video regarding the comments on your posts. Do you have anything to declare?"

"As I said in the video, I'm not obligated to like anyone, even if that's what fans think. I don't personally know any of the girls, so the comments are unfounded, defamatory, and malicious," I said, looking into the camera. "I've always been friends with the other girls, and our friendship might have started here due to our ex-boyfriends working in the same field. But our friendship goes beyond that, so the fact that these so-called fans are bothered by something so trivial truly amazes me. Once again, I have nothing against anyone, so I ask you to stop trying to portray me as the villain just because you don't like me."

"Very well, thank you Y/n, for your words," I agreed and left.

I continued walking, stopped for a coffee, and on my way back, Daniel waved at me.

"Y/n, long time no see."

"Hi, Dani," I hugged him. "How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Good too, just the usual dramas."

"I saw; people don't have much sense.”

"Don't even talk about it. I don't know where people get this rivalry. It's not like I said anything about them in the post."

"Don't worry about it. Fans are just jealous because all of you dated who they wanted. The girls are getting hate now for dating them."

"Yeah, tell me about it," I sighed. "It's terrible for all of us. Max and I aren't even dating anymore, and people still hassle me."

"I can imagine. Heidi sometimes shows me some comments, and they're pretty nasty."

"Well, I need to go, but good luck in the race," I waved. Passing in front of the Red Bull garage, I was pulled inside, and when I saw, I was in Max's driver's room. "What the hell is this?"

"I wanted to see you," he said simply.

"And did you need to pull me in like you were kidnapping me?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you and I wanted as few people as possible to see."

"Why? Are you ashamed?"

"Of course not." He stared at me. "How are you?"

"Look, you didn't pull me in here to ask how I am, and I know it was your idea to invite me, even though you tried really hard to make it seem like it wasn't," I said, and he looked at the floor. "So tell me, why so much effort to bring me here?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you."

"You could have called me or sent a message."

"I know, but I needed to say this in person," I agreed and sat on his bed.

"All right, I'm listening."

"I wanted to apologize for my fans. I heard about what happened with your last post, and I didn’t wanted you to go through all this because of me."

"It's not your fault."

"Are you sure? The fans are mine."

"It doesn't matter; they're not your real fans if they're such nasty people," he agreed. "It's okay."

Max sighed, briefly averting his gaze before fixing it back on mine.

"Y/n, I need to be honest about the other reason I brought you here," I nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I still love you, more than I can admit. Seeing you dealing with all this pressure and drama made me realize that, even with everything that happened between us, I can't just let you go. Not again."

My heart raced, and a smile formed on my face.

"Max, I feel the same way. I think, deep down, we never stopped loving each other. Maybe it's time to give what we had a second chance."

He smiled back, sincerity reflected in his eyes.

"Y/n, I just want to do this the right way, without rushing, and make sure we're both ready." I nodded, feeling a profound sense of relief.

"I'm willing to give it a try, Max. After all, what do we have to lose?"

And in the end, I guess I put an end to the exes club.

Bonus scene!

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“Ops, I guess the exes club is over for me”

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jinnie-ret · 19 days

Text

cigarette duet

poly!stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: angst, fluff at the end

content warnings: smoking, mentions of rehab, mentions of recovery

word count: 3k

summary: you get hounded by your boyfriends after they catch you smoking. how will they react when you disappear and go off the radar?

requested: @ihrtlix

It has been a while since I've written! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get around to the requests for this event but I'm getting back into the swing of things! Hope you enjoy! Please don't take offense to any opinions presented in this imagine. Enjoy! And if you want to be tagged in anything I write please lemme know! <3

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MAIN MASTERLIST

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Perhaps you had smoked one too many cigarettes last night. Waking up the next morning after battling your stresses with the addictive feed of nicotine, your throat felt dry, hoarse, scratchy even.

"Baby, are you sure you're not sick?" Felix fussed, placing his hand delicately on your forehead to gain an idea of your temperature. "I mean, you don't feel hot, but maybe you're coming down with something?"

"I'm fine, love, just need some water," you kiss his hand that was pulling away from your face, offering a reassuring smile after clearing your throat.

And in your mind, that was enough. You didn't notice the little things that your boyfriends did however.

"Binnie, what are you doing? You look like a perv haha," Hyunjin giggled at the sight of Changbin rummaging through the laundry basket and sniffing your hoodie.

"Ssshhh, keep it down. And plus, it's not being pervy, people in relationships do it all the time. It's comforting smelling each other's clothing," Changbin righteously pointed out to his boyfriend, puffing his chest before adding, "well, normally it is..." he sighed.

"Woah that's mean, you can't say our girlfriend smells," Hyunjin pushed Changbin's shoulder, laughing again but with wide eyes this time round.

"No, no, you've got the wrong idea anyways. I think... I think Y/N's been smoking. I can smell it on her hoodie," Changbin sighed, tossing the white hoodie of yours back into the washing basket that was full to the brim. He was about to continue his spiel of conspiracies until he jumped when your arms wrapped around behind him.

"Aw, babe, are you doing the washing? Thank god for that, I was worried it would never get done," you squeezed him tightly once more before kissing him on the cheek and continuing your venture into the kitchen, Felix trailing behind you.

"I think she's getting sick, I'm gonna see if we have any meds in the cupboard, or some throat sweets at least," Felix pouted as he walked past his two boyfriends, Hyunjin ruffling his hair on the way.

Changbin threw a meaningful look at Hyunjin, alarms going off in his head because it only added more fuel to the blazing fire of thoughts in his head.

"Look, we don't know that she is smoking for sure. Maybe she's just been around some friends that are?" Hyunjin whispers hurriedly, yet this caught Seungmin's attention, and his ears too.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Seungmin casually stood between the two, grabbing laundry detergent and capsules from the cupboard to act natural yet because practical at the same time.

"I'll explain later, to all of you. I'm just a bit concerned," Changbin sighed, rubbing his hand across his face before actually making a start on the chore at hand.

It was an escape for you, much like it was for other people who smoked cigarettes. And plus, you hadn't been doing it for long. You thought what could the harm be when you didn't do it a lot? Plus, it was handy that none of your boyfriends batted an eyelid in the studio when you said you wanted to go outside for some air. In fact, it gave the opportunity for Changbin to lay out his thoughts to the rest of your boyfriends who hadn't yet heard his observations.

"Y/N... I don't think she'd do that, I can't picture it," Jeongin shook his head, shaking his hands in confusion because the picture being painted in front of them seemed very unlikely and it wasn't a nice one to think of.

"And she knows it's too risky. First of all we're idols. I hate to say it but we have to think about that first in situations like these. Even when we're drinking we've got to be careful. If you're right about this, Binnie, then..." Chan groaned, leaning back into his seat with a huff.

"But she did just go out 'for some air'," Han added on, brows furrowed as he thought what Changbin was saying was quite plausible.

"Ok. We'll go check then," Minho shrugged as he stood.

"What?" Felix too stood up.

"We can't sit here and keep worrying. Let's go check and see for ourselves. If we're wrong... And I hope we are... Then it's fine," Minho grabbed his phone and shoved it into his pocket, scanning around the room for his boyfriends' reactions.

"And if we're not wrong, then what?" Hyunjin voiced his concerns.

"Let's just hope we're not," Chan was first to walk out the door, the rest of Stray Kids following along after him like ducklings and their mother. Apart from this time it wasn't the cute, adorable scene you'd hope for, especially because they could smell the smoke and see your lax figure as soon as they rounded the corner to the back of the building.

"No. Y/N you've got to be kidding me!" Chan snatched the cigarette out of your hand and immediately stomped it out.

"Chan I-" you fumbled on your words, eyes wide as you had all eight of your lovers stood in front of you. And the way they looked at you made you stomach twist into knots you were sure you'd never felt.

Disappointment. Anger. Concern. Indifference.

"Let's talk about this inside," Changbin wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he spoke quietly to you.

Your heart was racing faster. They were going to think the worst. But you had a way out of this. It wasn't even that bad. Sure, over the past month maybe you'd have been spending more money on packs of cigarettes, yet on the inside you felt as if there were worse things you could be doing to yourself.

"Sit," Minho bluntly said, face unreadable, tone void of emotion.

And so you did.

"We'll just have a conversation about this, nice and calm, ok?" Felix nudged Chan in particular with his leg.

It seemed however that it wasn't a conversation, but more of an intervention. A heated one, at that.

"I can't be nice and calm, Lix! Our girlfriend is destroying her body, and for what?" Chan's voice rose ever so slightly, hands squeezing the arms of the chair he was tensely sat in.

"It's just a cigarette," you feebly replied. That backbone of yours was slowly wearing away the more and more anger you felt radiating off of your partners.

"Don't be ridiculous," Seungmin scoffed, "think of the damage it's doing. Think about your career."

"It's more than just the odd cigarette, right?" Changbin prodded, wanting answers to the millions of questions he had. After all, he was the first one to notice how you gradually stopped voicing your concerns to him but still sometimes had the habits that showed your anxiety.

"Well, yes, but-" you began but were cut off.

"No buts. That's... It's, you're hurting yourself, hurting your lungs. Why are you doing this, baby?" Jeongin took your hand in his, concern not the only thing glistening in his eyes, which broke your heart.

"It's just a nice distraction, that's all. It won't go on forever, I'll just stop when I want to," you shrug your shoulders, squeezing his hand to show you meant what you said.

"It's not that easy. Nicotine. It's addictive. You think you can just stop like that?" Hyunjin frowned, shaking his head.

"I know I can," you firmly said, urging them with your voice to trust you.

"I don't know what planet you're living on," Chan shook his head.

"Channie..." Felix bit his lip, feeling torn. On one hand he didn't want your boyfriend to be so tough with you, but he also disagreed with the choices you made, the ones you were making.

"No I'm sorry but Y/N, babe, you've made one of the stupidest choices you could make! Seungminnie is right, Jeongin too. It's damaging for your body, let alone your career. You keep this up, you're not going to be able to sing as well as before. And then it'll get to the point where you can't breathe as well anymore," Chan ranted, fiddling with the bracelets adorning his wrist as he didn't take his eyes away from yours, not once.

"I just told you it's not going to go that far!" your face contorted to one of disbelief.

"That's out of your control," Minho sternly redirected your attention to him.

"Wow. It's like you don't even trust me. I'm not some kid. I can make my own decisions. So what if I'm doing this for a little bit of stress relief? For a bit of fun. It helps me," your voice almost turns to pleading, wanting them to hear you out, hear your reasoning.

"It hurts you, baby. And when it hurts you, it hurts us as well," Han bit his lip after shakily speaking up. He didn't like this situation, not one bit.

"I'm not doing it to hurt you. I'd never do that," your voice wobbled, throat feeling as if it was closing up from the sob that was lodged down there.

"Too late. I mean just look," Chan emptied your handbag, empty packets of cigarettes and some not, falling out onto the floor of the studio.

"Y/N, that's a lot," Hyunjin gasped, clutching a hand on his chest.

"It's not. It's not that bad..." you denied as you knelt on the floor and tidied up the mess.

"You're in complete denial," Seungmin rolled his eyes.

"I'm not! I'm well aware of my actions thank you very much!" you shouted suddenly, causing everyone to freeze at the volume you had just reached.

The guilt set in. It was never meant to go this far. It was just meant to be for stress relief. Something to distract you from the aches and pains, physical and mental. It wasn't long until you'd be performing a special fanmeeting and relearning old choreographies and a cover had you feeling like you were being worked down to the bone. Even iconic dances like God's Menu were hard to remember, and you felt like you had no chance. No choice. It was like it fell into your lap so easily.

The first time you had stood outside to catch some air, it was for that genuine reason. And you weren't alone. You didn't know if the person worked at your company, if you knew them, whatever. But their hand offering you something that could bring you temporary bliss was a solution you were grateful for. Only now, you were seeing that it was short term.

"You need help. Seriously..." Chan spat, grabbing his backpack and storming out of the studio.

"Find a way to end this, Y/Nnie," Felix mumbled, stroking your hair gently before following Chan out with a rush.

"You're all just going to go?" your voice cracked. Were they leaving you now?

"We just need some time," Changbin sighed. And then he was gone too.

"You're leaving me?" you sniffled, standing up to face your boyfriends that were still in the room.

"Not like that, baby. We're just giving you time to think about how you can stop this, ok?" Han stroked your face as he made sure you knew this wasn't the end. And then he left too, Minho, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin leaving too.

All alone. Perhaps it was what you deserved. You relied on the cigarettes more than your boyfriends. And they were all you had left for the moment. That was when it sank in. You had to make a change. You had to stop this habit form taking over your life, from pushing away the people you love most, and from taking your life away.

•••

"She's sorting herself out at least... that's got to be commendable."

"I guess so. Let's just hope it doesn't get out that a JYP idol is at rehab for smoking."

"It won't. And she's doing well from what I've heard..."

This was the only time Han was grateful for the staff gossiping. Immediately, he felt calmer. Considering the boys had spent the last few days blowing up your phone and worrying where you went, it was an oddly relieving feeling hearing you were at rehab. They had tried asking JYP himself, asking the manager of the company where you were but all they said was that you were safe.

"I know where she is!" Han bursted through the apartment door, slamming it shut behind him as he panted out of breath.

"Woah, woah, ok, deep breaths, let's sit down," Chan, with the darkest circles around his eyes yet, gently sat Han down on the sofa. He felt awful. He thought he had driven you away from them all. From the group. From the relationship. And that had been eating him up inside. It was a wonder he could act so calm with the news of you going into rehab.

"Rehab? For smoking? I didn't even know that was a thing," Seungmin hummed in thought, his arms crossed.

"I didn't either, but I overheard the staff. They say she's doing well. It's a good thing, right?" Han's eyes stared through the souls of everyone gathered in the lounge, begging for some sort of confirmation that things would get better.

"I mean, at least we're a bit more in the know then our own fans about why our girlfriend is on hiatus," Changbin brushed his fluffy, dark hair out of his eye.

"Can't we go and see her?" Felix wondered, lifting his head up from where it rested on Minho's shoulder.

"We shouldn't," Minho quietly sighed.

"Why not?" Jeongin quickly turned to him, mouth parted in shock that he didn't want to see Y/N.

"No, he's right. She's gone there for a reason. To get better. It's what we all said to her, isn't it? We'll see her soon. And when we do... It'll all be better," Chan helped everyone see sense. He was right. You had listened to them. You went and got help and were solving the problem. If they suddenly ambushed you and got in the way of that... You'd be back to square one.

•••

Today was the day, you were finally going back to the boys. You spent a good 3 weeks at rehab, and had been advised on some good coping mechanisms to take your mind off of smoking and how to create some healthier habits. You had shown good progress and it was deemed acceptable for you to leave and spend time back with your loved ones. And you couldn't lie, you were incredibly nervous. You had dropped a text without reading the spam that littered the groupchat, notifying your boyfriends what time you'd be returning, but after that you once again did not read anything else that was sent.

"Oh my baby, I've missed you so much," Han was the first one at the door, pressing kisses all over your face as he took you into his arms, holding you lightly.

"I've missed you too," you cried immediately, despite the weight off your shoulders.

"You're good now, right, darling?" Seungmin softly tugged you away from Han, both of his hands cupping your face whilst his thumbs wiped away your tears.

"I'm better," you nod through tears, Seungmin pressing a kiss to your head and giving space for your other boyfriends to soothe you and reunite with you. It had only been three weeks, yes, but 21 days had never felt so long.

"I'm proud of you, come here," Changbin scooped you into his arms and lifted you slightly, making you giggle before your feet touched the ground once more.

"Thank you... I'm sorry. I didn't realise what I had done... How far it went, you know?" you began, looking down at the floor as Hyunjin came and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his long arms securing you to him.

"We're just happy to see you here, honey, healthier," he whispered into your ear soothingly.

"And please talk to us in future. We had time to think after that, moment, and we know you were doing it as an escape. But we're here for you," Jeongin pecked you on the lips, your heads pressed against each other for a moment before he too moved away.

"Always, we're always here," Felix reiterated what Jeongin preached, and kisses you as well, noses rubbing against each other as he moved away, a cute expression on his face.

"Come here," Minho opened his arms, and you reluctantly left Hyunjin's arms only to be happy again in the warmth of your other boyfriend's embrace.

"Thank you for waiting, all of you," you swayed with him in his hug, until you pulled away and it was only Chan left.

He stood a few metres away, back to you, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

"Channie... babe," you sighed, tugging his hand to turn him and face you. His words had hurt you the most but it was also a huge wake up call. "Please, look at me, I'm not mad. I'm so grateful."

"I was too harsh with you," he bit his lip, hard, not wanting to let any tears escape.

"I needed it. Look at me now, I'm here, I'm better, and I've got habits I can stick to instead. Ones that won't hurt me. And they won't hurt you guys either," you looked up at him, one hand running through the hair at the nape of his neck and the other cupping his face.

"I'm so glad you're back... We were worried... Lost without you," Chan admitted, staring up at the ceiling before kissing you deeply, expressing all the emotions he had held back whilst you were gone.

"It's all good now. Plus, you should all be proud of me-"

"We are proud of you, baby," Jeongin cut you off stroking your hair.

"Well, be even prouder because I know how to bake an amazing carrot cake if I say so myself," you laughed, sharing a new skill that had occupied your stress and been taught whilst you were away.

"You can bake with me now! Oh my gosh! It's a miracle!" Felix cheered, tugging you into the kitchen as the other boys chuckled from behind you both.

"I didn't think you meant this very second!"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kailee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria

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gethelpplease · 5 months

Text

All the Pretty Stars (shine for you, my love)

Ellie x Reader

tags: fluff, stargazing, loser Ellie, cursing, best friends to lovers, one-shot, Loser!Ellie, Jackson!Ellie

synopsis: You and Ellie have been friends since she first came to Jackson. The moment you saw her, you knew she was special. Years later you suddenly realize you're in love with her. One day while stargazing, everything changes between the two of you.

Or: A fluffy fic with making out and a cute little forehead kiss at the end.

word count: 4.7k

AN: I might make a second part with angst. I'm not sure I just rlly wanna write Ellie angst but we'll see if I ever get the time to. School is taking over my life. Anyway, I posted this on ao3 too: All the Pretty Stars (shine for you, my love) by siriusly_not_moony

Enjoy! <3

The view of the stars in Jackson was the best thing anyone could ever see. Ever since the outbreak, there hasn’t been much light pollution outside of QZs. Meaning,1 there’s a good view almost anywhere else. This makes the view of the stars pretty clear, but Jackson has something everywhere else doesn’t have. Ellie Williams. Stargazing with her isn’t just “stargazing.”

Ellie first got to Jackson when she was fourteen, you remember very clearly. Seeing her for the first time quite literally knocked the breath out of you. You’d been in Jackson for a while before her, still adjusting to the new environment. Tommy had finally given into your pestering to improve your defense skills for patrol at 14. Maria never let you go of course, she said you needed more practice and maybe when you turned 16, she would let you. Once she let up, going on patrols with Tommy, Joel, and Ellie, made the pair of you closer. Your connection with Tommy is how you got to meet Ellie. Without him, you probably would have never approached her. He kept insisting you should talk to her, “She’s only a few weeks apart from you, Joel says she’s a good kid. Just talk to her.” “Kid, you need friends, just say hi.” “You know, Joel says she likes comics. Just like you.”

Meeting Ellie was confusing to describe it at best. She was kind, but very curt with all her responses. You almost felt as if she didn’t really care to get to know you. As for you, she was all you thought about since you first saw her.

Joel and Tommy were talking as the three of them walked down to the stables. You watched quietly as they got closer. Ellie stayed close to Joel, but a bit behind silently looking down, looking anywhere but the pair of brothers. It was obvious she felt a bit out of place. You honestly felt bad for her. She must not know anyone in Jackson yet, the only people she knows are grown adults.

They stopped near the open doors of the stables; you were in the first stall brushing Willow’s mane. She was your neighbor’s horse, but she liked you a lot for some reason.

You leaned against the stall door, “Hi.”

Ellie took a few seconds to turn around and see you, a straight look on her face, but her eyes. She has sad eyes. Beautiful, sad, green eyes. The eyes you want to stare at forever, to draw hundreds of times until it’s perfect. The eyes that put you in a trance when you see them up close. And those freckles.

Regret started to fill your stomach, but you pushed it back. You’re doing this for her, so she has a friend. Not because she’s the prettiest person you’ve ever seen. Her eyes were so mesmerizing. You’ve never seen eyes so hypnotizing. And they were looking at yours now. “Hi?”

“Oh,” You introduce yourself completely forgetting how social interactions go for a moment. “I—uh Tommy mentioned you’re about my age, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’ve only been in Jackson for about a year, so I know what it’s like to be new to it all. But, um, if you want a look around, I can show you?”

“Uh,” She looked back at Tommy and Joel. They were definitely into whatever it was they were talking about. You could see Ellie’s internal debate deciding if she should or shouldn’t accept your offer. “Sure.”

“Cool! I’m kind of still learning new things about this place every day. It’s kind of awesome how a place like this is growing and flourishing. It gives me hope you know?”

“Yeah.”

“So, where are you from?”

“Boston QZ.”

“Oh.” She seemed distracted. Or uninterested, who could tell? “So, what brought you here?”

She sighs, “It’s a long story. I came here with Joel. He was looking for Tommy. He found him now so…that’s that.”

You didn’t want to ask about that yet, it seemed a bit too sensitive for a first conversation. “This is the community garden. Some people grow their own stuff in their own yards for easy access, but this is the main source. We all help out here.”

You showed her around the most important parts of town. You found out she’s staying around the corner, just a minute's walk away. She cracked a smile once when you mentioned that almost everyone you knew would rather run into infected than listen to Seth drunkenly rant about his philosophical discoveries that make zero sense. You walked her back to her place after roughly less than an hour. You gave her directions to your place and said goodbye with a smile. The one you got in return made you weak to your knees.

After that first interaction, you didn’t speak for a couple of days before you saw her at the diner for breakfast. After that, you got breakfast together every day, which led to hanging out together. After a couple weeks of talking, you actually felt a really strong connection to her. She was your first real friend, and it was the best thing ever.

A couple years later, once Maria let you out on patrol, you convinced her to let you go with Ellie. And Joel and Tommy of course. She wouldn’t trust just the two of you alone. At this point, you spent most of your days with her. You got to know Joel too. You got to know just how sassy that man was despite his tough exterior. He was definitely Tommy’s brother.

Now, it was safe to say Ellie was your best friend. You two also made friends with Dina, Jesse, Cat, Riah, and Travis. You were also acquainted with a few others who you met through Dina. Meeting Dina really brought you out of your shell, and you can thank her for it. She’s the reason why you allowed yourself to become friends with other people. Dina was both yours and Ellie’s closest friend, besides each other. That’s why you came to Dina when you realized you were completely in love with Ellie. You knew you had a crush on her when the two of you had just started talking, but you were convinced it would go away. You pushed it back and kind of thought it did go away, but years later you now know that’s not the case. One day it just dawned on you that you were in love with her. One random, normal day.

You and Ellie were lying about on her bed. You found a bottle of alcohol on patrol and obviously brought it back. You two were drinking out of it just until you felt a buzz, not trying to get too drunk. Because of this, you two reached a somewhat dizzy and sleepy state. She was practicing a familiar tune on the guitar while you were sketching exactly what you saw. You both bonded over drawing, she was definitely better than you. She was always getting so much better so quickly. It was amazing. You were drawing the freckles on her face and that one distinct freckle on the top of her left cheek when you just started staring freely at her. She was distracted and you took the opportunity to just take in all of her features. In doing so, you got a dangerously strong feeling of butterflies in your stomach. You felt it first, and then a few beats later you realized what that meant. Your breath was suddenly gone.

Shit.

You sat up clenching your jaw trying to think straight for just one moment.

I’m in love with Ellie Fucking Williams…

In love. Love. God, this isn’t going to go away.

That night you slept beside her which was kind of a normal thing for the two of you. She slept soundly from what you could hear, but you stayed up for hours nervous and jittery. You only got a few hours of consistent sleep.

When you finally got the chance to tell Dina, she already knew of course. You told her about your “big realization,” but she said it was incredibly obvious from the very beginning. She even thought you and Ellie were dating before you two became friends with her.

She helped you come up with an outline on what to tell Ellie. It really shouldn’t be that difficult to talk about your feelings, but this is Ellie. Your best friend who you know is a bit emotionally constipated. You feel like even if there was a chance that she liked you back, she would never grant herself the ability to do anything about it. For someone so deserving, she never let herself be truly happy.

“You got this.” Dina grinned your way as she walked you to the door.

You spun quickly back towards her ready to go back to her bed and just talk to her instead of Ellie.

Dina grabbed your shoulders and turned you back to the door, literally kicking you out. “Nope. You’re doing this today. Trust me, it’ll work out.”

“No Dina, I really don’t think I can. If she turns me down, I will actually hide away forever. I’ll go throw myself into a horde of infected and it’ll be your fault.”

She lets out a long sigh and gives you a knowing look as you stand outside her door, “If you never do it you could be missing out on something really beautiful. At least try? You both deserve to be happy.”

You groan loudly. You agree with her of course, if the roles were reversed you would probably tell Dina the same thing. “Okay. I’ll do it, just give me a few days to prepare. I’ll talk to her sometime this week. I want to.”

“Yes you will.”

“Thank you Dina. I probably would have rotted in self-doubt without you. I’ll see you for dinner.”

“Bye Hun.” She gives you a small finger wave as you walk away.

After that conversation with Dina, you tried to keep your feelings for Ellie behind a curtain. The last thing you would want is to make things weird between you and her. You also noticed that knowing how you felt and continuing your friendship as normal was pretty tiring. You had to constantly think about every choice you made and every word you said. In a perfect world, you told her the moment you knew and she told you she liked you back. Too bad. This isn’t that world. Ellie is hard to read. Yeah, she smiles at you a lot, will stare at you when she thinks you don’t notice, and she’ll hold you or play with your hair when you guys watch movies. That’s being friendly. You kinda do some of those things with Dina? Despite your internal emotional battle, you told Dina you would tell Ellie. You’re not doing this for Dina though, you’re doing this for yourself. Going on pretending you’re not completely in love with Ellie would be too much.

It was a couple days later when got to spend the entire day with Ellie. Those days came rarely now. You love spending time with Ellie, so it wasn’t exactly a problem, but you definitely needed some time alone at the end of it all. You were laying down in an empty field behind one of the small playgrounds. The grass was a bit taller and uncomfortably itchy, so you had a sheet under you and your mini telescope lens Maria gave you for your 16th birthday. This was your spot to look at the stars at night. Ellie would usually go with you since she loves space too, but you didn’t tell her you were here this time. Because of that, you didn’t expect to hear footsteps approaching. Much less Ellie’s footsteps.

You sit up to look behind you, “What’re you doing here?”

“Tommy told me where you were.”

“I thought you were going to sleep earlier tonight since you have morning patrol.”

“Yeah, but…I dunno, I changed my mind.” She sat beside you partly on the grass. You knew she wouldn’t really be bothered by the grass since she’s wearing pants and a long sleeve, but you scooted over to make a bit more room for her. You patted the spot next to you and she took the offer and smiled, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were kinda spacey today. You know? I feel like you zoned out a lot.”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” You stare back up at the sky hoping she isn’t thinking too much into your behavior. “I’ve just been tired.”

“Yet you’re out watching the stars in the middle of the night.”

You chuckled, “Whatever.”

You let out a big sigh. A few moments of silence fall over you two, but it’s comfortable.

You lay back down on your sheet to get a good look at a small bunch of stars that look like one of the constellations you read about. You turn your head a bit to the right, and you are finally able to connect the stars and make out the figure you’ve been trying to find for a few nights. Ellie’s still sitting up, watching you observe the stars. You look at her and she takes a few seconds to notice. She had a soft smile on her face that was so beautiful it haunted you. When she notices you’re shift of attention she darts her eyes around before finally settling back on you, accompanied with a confused look.

“I found it!”

“Found it?”

“The constellation we were looking for the other night. I found it. C’mere.”

She lays down by you, her shoulder touching yours. “Where?”

“Here!” You point to a spot in the sky, but it doesn’t seem very effective. You lean over, your face so close to Ellie’s, looking at the sky. Your eyes are trying their hardest to stay focused on the sky despite the fact that Ellie’s eyes are like magnets. You’re trying to see the stars from her perspective to give her a better idea of where the bunch of stars are. “There.” You say quietly due to your proximity.

When she notices your eyes on the sky her eyes follow, hoping you didn’t see where her eyes were originally. She looks back at you and her eyes dart to your lips before looking back and forth between your left and right eyes. She slightly licks her lips causing you to look at them. It becomes too much so you lay back down in your original spot.

You take a few seconds to regain your calm, releasing a soft sigh. “Um, this was the dog constellation I was telling you about.” You had a moment. You definitely had a moment.

“The one with that super bright star? Sirion? No, wait, Sirius?”

“Yeah, Sirius. Did you learn that from the constellation book I gave you?”

“Obviously…Have you read the space mysteries book I gave you?”

“I’ll have you know that I have read some of it, actually.”

“You haven’t.” She said with a deadpan face.

“No, I really have,” you say giggling, “I swear!”

“I can never tell when you’re being sarcastic.” She rolls her eyes and lets out a gruff breath as she turns her head the other way.

You two lay in silence for a few minutes enjoying the quiet ambience. In Jackson, most settle down around 10:30 p.m. The only noise you hear now is the wind causing leaves to rustle against each other, a few crickets, and the soft background of cicadas.

“I have a question.” Ellie says randomly.

“What?” You respond still laying down on your back, eyes darting between Ellie and the sky. One reason why you love the stars and constellations so much might, or might not, be because of how they remind you of Ellie’s freckles. It just makes so much sense. She has the bigger more prominent freckles under her left eye and above her left eyebrow kind of like how there are brighter stars in constellations. You smile to yourself just thinking about it.

“Okay,” she says moving to lay down on her side with her head propped up on her fist, “you said that you immediately liked me when you first saw me, but what did you mean? Because I was really thinking about it the other day and I remember kind of being a jerk when we first met.”

Thinking about that makes you chuckle. She wasn’t that much of a jerk she just acted as most teens do when they see someone their age. The weird critical glances and kind of guarded attitude. “I don’t know. You—I mean… you weren’t a jerk from what I remember. Maybe I just ignored it. But, you did seem shy like you were afraid to make friends and I think that made me want to be friends with you more. And I liked you when I instantly saw you because you… I don’t know I just immediately knew I had to talk to you. I didn’t have any real friends at that point in my life, but I thought maybe it could be you.”

“Wow.”

“Shut up. I don’t mean to be cheesy but I just got a feeling I guess.”

“No, no, it’s cute.”

“Yeah whatever… What about you? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you’re first impression of me. Just that you’re glad that I talked to you.”

“I mean there’s not much to say. You said it all.”

“Uh, yeah. I said my side. Now I wanna know your side.” You poke her shoulder with your finger to make your point.

“Ok… fine,” She pauses for a second gathering her thoughts, “I remember seeing you kinda linger around when I first rode in with Joel. I didn’t want to look your way ‘cause I knew you were looking at me. I definitely knew you were weird.” You shove her shoulder, a wide smile plastered on your face. “I didn’t really expect to make friends actually. You already know I’ve only ever had one real friend my age, so when you came up to me, I thought I should try. I remember that talk very clearly actually. You gave me a tour and a rundown on how the social life is here. We talked a bit about our interests, and I found out you liked comics too, so I think that did it for me.”

“Aw, it wasn’t my great jokes?”

She shouts, “Ha!” Obviously making fun of you.

“Your puns are just as bad so you better keep your mouth shut.”

“My puns are amazing. You know you love them. You’ve told me before.”

“Mmm, no. Must have me confused for someone else.”

She smiles and nods her head, a sweet look on her face you wish you could take a photo of.

“The moon looks so nice right now.” She says as she stares in awe at the full moon overhead. She then reaches over you to grab the mini telescope lens. When she grabs it, it rolls off a bit causing her to lose her balance and slip. She catches herself before she slams into you, just hovering over you with her hand on the side of your head and the other half-folded on your other side providing her with support.

Your instant reaction was to grab her, so your hand is hovering over her waist, “You okay?”

“Yeah, my bad.” She still hasn’t moved, staring at your eyes, then looking around your entire face.

Your heart is beating too fast and too strong. You feel the need to breathe faster, but you can’t make it too obvious. You’re staring at her lips just waiting for her to do something because you don’t have the will to make the first move. Then you see her lips form into a smirk, so you look back up at her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” she says letting out a breathy laugh.

“No, what?” You say, turning red. Was she laughing at the way you looked at her lips?

“Just… you.” She’s still chuckling.

“What about me?” Your eyebrows scrunch up, an almost pouted look on your face. You feel very left out of whatever is making Ellie so entertained.

“I don’t know,” she is still laughing. “You just make me smile.”

“Ha ha. Fuck you too.” You reply out of defense feeling like she’s teasing you.

You’re partly confused because of this sudden mood change from Ellie. She’s cute when she’s giggly, but she usually only gets that way when she has a bit of alcohol in her system or when she’s taken a couple hits too many. You smile, brows still scrunched, but her comment makes you blush. You turn away from her thinking, What the fuck was that?

You turn back to face her, but she’s still smiling at you, still hovering over you. Your hand is gone from her waist and now it’s on the floor, feeling like it’s glued down. Your entire body feels frozen as if gravity has doubled in force, trying to staple you to the ground.

She stopped laughing so there’s a moment of pure silence between the two of you. That’s when it feels too real, the energy around the two of you changes completely. Her smile slowly falls and she’s staring at your lips, then looks into your eyes with permission. You could be imagining it, but that thought depleted from your brain when Ellie finally leans in. She lowers her head, only a centimeter from yours for one second almost second-guessing herself. Butterflies flood your stomach and then your entire body as you take in what is happening. You both end up moving your heads at the same time and it’s the best thing in the world. Her lips touch yours so gently, lingering there for a bit. You try to process the moment, but you can only focus on Ellie.

Ellie. Ellie. Ellie.

You move your lips against hers slowly. It’s a closed-mouth kiss that lasts a few long seconds. She pulls away, eyes closed, still so close, and she sighs shakily. You’re still looking at her in pure shock and admiration because this is it. This is what you were so scared of and it’s all you ever wanted, except you didn’t have to make the first move. She did.

Ellie repositions herself so she’s not relying on only her arms for support. She kneels down, one of your legs between the two of hers and then she lowers herself back on top of you, one hand on your neck and the other beside your head.

This time, you lean in to kiss her first and it’s different. You know what it’s like and you want more. She holds your head closer, pushing you into her as much as she can. One of your hands find the back of her head, fingers brushing through her hair. The other hand is under her shirt on her waist, moving back and forth occasionally to her lower back. She slightly moans into your mouth at the sensation. It’s not freezing outside, but your fingers hold a slight chill against her warm back. You’re thinking you could just live in this moment forever, but then things get better and your mind starts racing.

More.

Ellie’s the one to deepen the kiss, slipping her tongue into your mouth first. Then, to top it all off, she grabs your leg, pulling it down to get you closer to her. She doesn’t move her hand, keeping it on your leg stroking up and down slowly occasionally squeezing your thighs. You use that leg to feel closer to her, wrapping it around her. She pulls away for a second and you think it’s over, but she takes a deep breath and starts leaving feathery kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your eyes fall shut. It’s a struggle to stay calm when you feel her lips on your skin, her hand on your neck, fingers in your hair, and her other hand stroking your thigh.

“Ellie.” You barely croak the word out, not wanting her to stop. “Ellie,” you say a bit louder now, still a whisper “Ellie.” The last time you say her name, it comes out as a giggle. Her lips brushed against a sensitive spot on your neck.

She looks up looking dazed, “Yeah?” she whispers back.

You grab her face to pull her closer and kiss her briefly, her eyes still closed for a few seconds after you pull away and a smile forming on her face. Meanwhile, you’re grinning like a fool. You push her off of you playfully as you laugh, “We have to get back. We need some sleep.”

“Five more minutes.” She sighs staring up at the sky.

“Okay.” You sigh, “Five minutes.”

You both lay in each other’s company for those five minutes, silently processing what just happened.

“Okay five minutes are up, it’s pretty late.” You say, grunting as you push yourself up and begin to gather your things.

Ellie’s still laying down. You both know you should go home and sleep, but you don’t want to leave this moment just yet.

You sigh and kick her leg. “Get up.” You say reaching your hand out.

“Damn, okay.” She takes the invitation pulling herself up.

The two of you begin to walk towards the road where you live not knowing whose house you’re exactly going to. Ellie’s place comes up first and as you slow down to say bye, she doesn’t stop.

“Let me drop you off.” She insists turning to face you.

“Drop me off? Ellie, we’re already at your place, I’ll be fine walking down the street alone.” You say in disbelief.

“Come on,” she says grabbing your hand as she drags you down the street towards your place.

“Uh-” you utter in surprise. What is this girl on?

You walk for a couple minutes looking over at Ellie, she looks lost in thought as she unconsciously swings your hands.

“I’m grabbing breakfast extra early in the morning with Joel, he wants to give me woodworking lessons again.” She looks away, “He’s—he’s trying.”

“That’s good though…I don’t really know exactly what happened between the two of you, but I know he cares about you so much and from how you talked about him Ellie, I know you care about him just as strongly. I want you to be happy, and if this is how, then that’s good.”

She looks at you thoughtfully, then looks down. “Yeah.” A slight pause, “Thanks.”

“You’re going to do that before patrol?”

“Yeah.”

“’Kay. Do you wanna come over later? I was just going to help out in the stables for a bit after then kinda chill for the rest of the day.”

“Yeah, sure, that sounds good.” A smile back on her face. She turns to walk you up to your door, “See you tomorrow—or later I guess.”

“Goodnight, Ellie.” You smile softly at her, releasing your joined hands. You want to tell her just how much you’re going to remember tonight and how much you like her, but not yet. Not yet.

While you’re thinking, she leans in to brush a soft kiss on your forehead, catching you off guard. She doesn’t let it linger too long, but just long enough for you to still feel a tingle in her lips’ absence. “Night.” She whispers against your forehead. She turns and walks back down the road, just like that. Meanwhile, you’re watching her go in disbelief at how much happened in one night. This is going to change a lot.

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runningfrom2am · 7 months

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Okay! Ik ur not talking request rn but I’ve had this thought for a lil bit but rafe w hs Teacher!reader, who he likes to visit during her lunch time aka study hall time, and the students adore him and like since it’s hs the girls like find his so attractive( bc mf is) 🤭

okay this request is SO self-indulgent for me bc i'm like a year out from becoming a hs teacher myself like AH that's the dream so i love you so so much for this whoever you are i could give you the biggest hug rn thank you so so much for this idea!!

study hall - r.c.

pairing: husband!rafe x teacher!reader

wc: 1.6k

tags/warnings: fluff and almost nothing else. rafe is a perfect boyfriend bc,, duh? also not very canon of him honestly.

requests currently closed but feel free to send stuff in! it just might take me a while to get around to it :)

nav/masterlists

"Okay that's the lecture, we've got about a minute before the bell here... does anyone have any questions?" You finish up your slides, checking the time briefly as you close up the powerpoint from your laptop and turn off the projector.

A couple of hands shoot up and you gaze over the class waiting briefly for anymore. "Okay, we'll do Max, and then Lacy. Fire off." You point to the two of them in order.

"Can we get an extension on the essay?" Max asks quickly and you laugh. "It's not due for another week! How can you be behind already?" Judging by the reaction of the rest of the class chattering off their agreement, you nod. "Okay, okay. Fine. Yes, you can hand it in on the Monday instead of Friday, but that is giving you two extra days so I won't be giving any more extensions. Got it?"

Collectively the class sighs in relief, a chorus of thank you's and chatter following. "Okay, Lacy, you had a question?" You interrupt everyone to ask, thinking maybe someone else might have the same question and want to hear the answer.

"Is Mr. Cameron coming to study hall today?" She asks, round cheeks flushed as the other girls in the class whip their heads towards you to listen.

"Okay." You laugh, sitting down in your chair content that you won't need to pull up any slides to revisit anything. "Thank you for reminding me, I do have study hall today so if anybody does have any serious questions about the lecture or the essay please hang around after the bell." You say, avoiding most of the question.

You hear the voice of almost every girl in the class speak up at once, all resulting in more or less the same question about whether or not your boyfriend would be coming again to eat with you like he usually does on Fridays.

He was very popular among the girls you taught, which doesn't surprise you. You'd be lying if you said your boyfriend wasn't ridiculously handsome, but it was sometimes a point of contention with the other faculty you worked with. They thought it was extremely unprofessional that he would come in just for the girls to ogle at- but strangely it wasn't a problem when they had their partners come in for lunch at the same time. You knew it wasn't your fault and you weren't doing anything wrong, but just a result of upset from them designating study hall for students and many girls would spend time in your class instead during the lunch hour.

Just then the bell rang, and many students began packing up to leave either to go to other classes for study or to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

"Alright! Don't forget the readings for next class, please, I may or may not be quizzing you on it just to make sure! Have a good day everyone!" You call out over the loud sounds of students filling the halls and talking.

You sigh with a smile and grab your water bottle, taking a sip to ease your dry throat after an hour of non-stop talking. You look up, humming in acknowledgement at the three girls leaning over your desk. "Question?" You ask, already knowing what they're after.

"Is Mr. Cameron coming?" Lacy's friend, Chloe asks and you smile, shrugging.

"Maybe, you'll have to stay for my study hall to find out."

"Come on just tell us!" Lacy groans, but before you can respond you're interrupted by a knock on your door frame.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I brought your lunch." You smile at your boyfriend standing at the door, lunch bag and coffee in hand.

"Hi." You chuckle, looking at the girls knowingly who already look like they're melting. You get up and greet him at the door, grabbing another chair to pull over to your desk for him to join you.

“Hi Mr. Cameron.” Lacy smiles, sitting down in the desk closest to yours and batting her lashes at him.

“Hi there.” Rafe says politely with an awkward smile, digging through the lunch bag he brought for you and handing you snacks out of it.

“Girls, go get your lunches, please.” You tell them, and they all somehow simultaneously roll their eyes.

“You just want us to leave so you can be alone with your boyfriend.” Chloe teases you and you laugh, shaking your head.

“No, I want you to go get your lunches so you can give your bodies the nutrients they need to learn. I’m not going to be held responsible for you girls missing meals.” You reply sincerely before taking a sip of your coffee. “And I promise, Mr. Cameron will still be here when you get back. Now, go.”

You gesture to the door and the girls sigh, getting up and filing out the door.

“You’re the only reason I ever have anyone in my study hall.” You giggle quietly once they’re gone. “There are no girls in study hall on Monday or Wednesday.”

“No way, Ms. Y/L/N is their favourite teacher, obviously.”

“Or my class is the hardest and my very hot boyfriend comes to eat with me during Friday study hall.”

“Your class is easy!” Rafe laughs, reaching up to brush away some hair that stuck to your cheek as you’re eating.

“You’ve never taken it, how would you know?”

“Well, if you were my teacher when I was in school… I’d be in here every day. “The boys don’t come on Fridays because they’re jealous of me…” He says smugly, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You blush as you playfully push him away, glancing towards the open door to make sure no students saw. “Yeah, you’d be in here because you’d need help with Shakespeare, and they do too.”

Rafe gasped in mock offense, then shakes his head. “That’s messed up. I’m offended.”

You shrug. “It’s tough stuff if you’ve never read it before.”

“We’re back!” You both look up at the door as Lacy and her friends make their way back in, lunches in hand this time. “Did you miss us?”

“Welcome back, ladies. Did you bring some homework with you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at them.

“Duh, Ms. Y/L/N. Who do you think we are?”

“I just wanted to make sure. Study hall is for studying, not chatting.”

They all get comfy in their seats around the desk across from yours, phones immediately out with no work to be seen.

“Hey, Mr. Cameron?” Chloe asks, leaning on her upturned palm as she grabs his attention and he hums in acknowledgement. “What’s your first name?”

“Rafe.” He answers, not thinking for a second that maybe it’s not allowed.

“That’s a great name. Like, really cool.” Lacy sighs, smiling at him.

“Why, thank you.” Rafe grins, nudging your shoulder. He eats this attention up every time, and it’s fun to joke about when you’re at home- but sometimes you think it’s bad for his ego.

“Can we call you Rafe?”

“If you want.” He shrugs.

“No, nope. He’s Mr. Cameron to you, sorry to disappoint.” You chuckle.

“But he said we can call him that!” Chloe whines, looking at you pleadingly.

“Sure, but the school board says otherwise. As long as we’re on school grounds you don’t even know his name, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” They agree, giggling to themselves. “It’ll be our secret. Scouts honour.”

“None of you are scouts!” You laugh.

The girls just look at each other and shrug.

By now other students have filtered in, and luckily with tests coming up in all your blocks, a lot of studying is actually happening and less harassing of your boyfriend.

“Hey,” Rafe whispers, leaning closer to you which draws the attention of the girls in the front row who are straining to listen. “Can we take the yacht out this weekend? Maybe go for dinner or something on the mainland?” He whispers, smiling at you hopefully.

“Yeah, that would be nice. We could make a weekend out of it, I don’t have much grading to do.” You agree quietly and he seems excited, smiling and patting your leg before returning to his book that he had just picked up off your desk to skim through while you ate.

Come Monday morning, you’re getting ready for the bell to ring to signal the start of the first block. Once your whiteboard is ready with the notes for the day, you smile to yourself in anticipation as you sip your coffee. The bell rings, and students are quick to make their way in and to their desks.

“Oh. My. God.” Lacy stops in her tracks at the door, holding her arms out in front of her friends on either side of her as she stares at the whiteboard, and then looks over to you. “You’re joking!” She almost screams, clapping excitedly and running up to your desk to examine your hand while all the other students look up to the board in confusion, hoping for some answers as to what Lacy and Chloe are squealing about.

On your board, you had changed your name in the corner to a short statement:

‘You can call me Mrs. Cameron’

taglist: @rafeoccasionally , @bookishbabyyy , @madelynie , @whore-4-drewstarkey , @slut4drudy , @winterrrnight , @totalswag , @sadfury , @fullfledgedemo , @rafemotherfuckingcameron , @urfaveluvr , @chenslucy , @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea , @tahliac11 , @saccharinesammie , @ietss , @maybankslover , @redhead1180 , @suzyheartsrafe , @wpdailyminimeta , @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly , @lovelyxtommy, @thelomlisrafecameron , @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles , @flonkertn , @whtvrrafe

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jaketsparrow · 2 months

Text

SOMETHING... | JTK

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 10.6K

Summary: When you have to say goodbye to your professor and mentor, a cocky young professor steps in, Jacob Kiskza. Literature used to be your safe place, but now you feel him getting involved in every corner; it doesn’t help that you’re his TA. You deny yourself every opportunity to fall for him until…

A/N: Hi guys :) I know it’s been forever since I’ve put something together and I apologize about that, but this is life. This one has been on my mind since the Grammy U interview and I finally had the idea to put it all together. I hope you enjoy :)

Playlist

*Also I'm so sorry I lost my tag list so if you want to be tagged here's a new form* Taglist

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), talks about death/grief, angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, choking, alcohol use, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, ~some~ degrading, praise kink!, I’m sorry if I missed anything, but, etc, it’s filth.

The classroom was cold in the early months of the year. You had gotten in the habit of wearing your coat through the 3-hour seminar. You were lucky that this class only ran once a week, but you often had to stay longer than the students, working with the professor for a few hours afterward. He was always elusive. Always eager to get things done as fast as possible; efficient and snappy.

There was much to admire about him, but his personality often left you rolling your eyes. He always seemed a bit too sure about himself, always being the tough grader, pushing students further than they were willing to go. He cared a lot, especially about the subject matter. He still had that gusto in him to do things right, to be stern.

He was new to the program; and before this, only about a year into teaching. You studied under his predecessor. She was a kinder old woman who cared deeply for you, like your mother away from home. She taught you everything- and even got you to change majors during your sophomore year. She supplemented your reading supplies, nurtured your abilities, and was always willing to sit in deep conversation with you. Discussing the classics, introducing modern pieces, talking about life, talking about it all.

Professor Kiszka on the other hand…

When he took over for Professor Meelo, he took very little time to rip the bandaid off. When you had originally been promised a TA position in the literature department, you were expected to be under your mentor, not a cocky white man.

You spent weeks crying during winter break after first meeting him. The day you met him didn’t go exactly as you hoped. It was the week of finals when you found out Meelo was sick, and that she was stepping away from teaching. As if finals week wasn’t stressful enough, you had to come to terms with the fact that the woman who taught you everything was going to be leaving this world sooner than you would’ve thought. It was even more of a punch in the gut to walk into your introduction meeting to see… him.

3 Months Ago

The walk across campus felt heavier than usual. The winter had been harsher than it usually was in early December. The wind whipped across your bare rosy cheeks, causing freezing tears to slowly fall out of the corners of your eyes. Almost like a bad omen, the weather continued to get worse as you sludged your way across the quad.

The parking lot was nearly a mile away from campus, which was nice during the warmer months; the trees would sway across the crosswalk, blessing the sidewalk with fallen flowers and leaves. The grass was green and lively, a welcome mat onto a wonderful learning home. Between the cracks of the stone walkways, little dandelions would grow. You never understood the people who thought them to be unnecessary weeds. They were bright and yellow lively plants, and when the time of beauty passed, they passed their good wishes onto you. Blowing what once were vibrant petals into the wind. Who knew you’d miss the weeds on your walks?

Instead, now the stones were smeared with remnants of snowy footprints, broken earth that had been cracked through with the force of shovels, and the remnants of the dead earth.

Meelo called you just last week. You begged to go see her in the hospital, but she didn’t want you to worry too much. She agreed to call you every other day, just like your usual coffee arrangements. She loved them just as much as you did. She never had a husband or any children. Her students were her children, her soul was fed enough through changing lives that she didn’t want to take away that love from her students or prevent any child from feeling all of it. You were not the first to bear their soul in her office, but you might be one of the last.

Meelo begged you to go meet the new professor. You had tried to rescind your TA position, but she blocked you at every chance she got. Even while in hospice she still managed to look out for you…

“Please, sweetheart. I know it’s not easy. But he’s young, he’s smart, I think you’ll have a lot in common with him,” She pleaded through the phone.

“But he’s not you. I just, I thought… I thought I’d have more time…” Your voice trailed off.

You tried to hold the phone away from your face, trying not to distress her more with the sounds of your whimpers and tears.

Her voice started again, “You never know what you will learn from him. You have more time with me, but there comes a time when a teacher must share her students for them to learn more. If we stayed in our echo chamber together my dear I’m afraid you wouldn’t learn everything you need to know. Jacob is going to be a great professor, and I know you will learn a lot from him. His research and analysis work is quite extensive. The school and I hired him for a reason. Please. Just give it a try. For me.”

“Just for you.”

And here you were trudging through, feeling every bone in your body telling you to turn around, to go home. But you were doing this not for you, you reminded yourself. For Meelo. She was right, you latched on to her from your early years in college and favored her over all of your other professors. They were kind and nice as well, but it didn’t matter to you in the end, if they weren’t Meelo, they were never going to compare.

The building seemed colder than usual. The large glass windows were covered by their shades; no one wanted to see the gross state of life outside of the classroom. That’s hardly motivating to any student, the fluorescents would give more life than the grey state of the weather.

You pull the door open, walk through the entryway, and follow your usual path down the hallway to Meelo’s room.

The thing about old colleges, everywhere you turn is a little piece of history. Each room has housed many professors and many students. The building had life, had ghosts of its own hidden in each brick, in each stone. You felt the comfort of this presence moving through the hallway.

You stop right before Meelo’s room, catching your breath before you enter. Trying to have an open mind. Kiszka could be something, or he could just be another man throwing words at you. Not that all men were the same, but a majority of the male professors here were lackluster, favoring the male students and the athletes who needed the better grades to stay in the school. And if they favored the women… You always felt a cold chill thinking about that. Thinking about why…

One last deep breath before you enter the classroom. You grab tight onto the handle of your tote bag and strut confidently into the room.

It was empty.

The beautiful artwork and posters that Meelo had filling the room were stripped. Revealing the natural state of the architecture. It was beautiful in its own way but didn’t feel like the educational home you once felt so blessed to be in. The desks were all shoved to one side of the classroom. The previous welcoming U-shape was demolished, instead providing a cluttered destruction of Meelo’s work.

You stood awestruck in the shape of the room. There was no time wasted between Meelo leaving and Kiszka starting to make his mark on the room. The bookshelves that used to be filled in the back of the room had been emptied and their contents sat on the floor in boxes.

You walk over to the boxes, kneeling to gently sift through the carelessly placed books. This was Meelo’s library that she had collected for the classroom. Take a book, leave a book, borrow a book, bring it back. You loved visiting this wall every week, seeing what books your peers were interested in, and which books made their way into the library. Some new, and some returning after long months away.

Sitting on top of the box was the classic “Brave New World”. Aldous Huxley. 1932. Not an original copy, but a new binding. It was like the universe was sending you signs. This would be a brave new world. A world where you might have to come to terms with the fact that Meelo would not be in your life forever. A world where you might have to figure out everything with a new mentor. A world where you thought you would have years to work on your pieces with a woman who understood you, but now you would turn over your heartfelt pieces to a man. One who may not understand you the same as someone else does.

“A favorite of yours?” A voice perks up from the doorway.

You turn to see him. Your eyes work your way up his figure. He’s wearing Chelsea boots, black thick linen pants, a white loose shirt with a black vest, and a dress coat over it. His chestnut hair lays over the shoulders of the coat, and his eyes are covered by circular gold-rimmed sunglasses. He oozes mystery. His arms crossed, surveying your crouched body by the boxes. You hate to admit it, but he may be one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen.

You hold up the book towards him, displaying the cover.

“Not particularly. I don’t like thinking about the takeover of technology. It feels too real right now.” You respond.

He wanders over to you, taking his time, each step creating the most annoying echo in the emptied classroom. He reaches his hand out to yours, asking silently for the book. You hand it over to him and stand to match his level.

He passes the book between his hands, admiring the binds, “Ah, yes, but perhaps something can be learned from the book if more understood its warning… if only more read it…”

“If only…” You let the conversation trail off. Your eyes wander back to the pile of desks on the opposite wall. You feel yourself zoning out, focused only on the change of the room, not on the man in front of you.

“-Your favorite?” He asks.

You snap back to the conversation, trying to recall the beginning of his question, “I’m sorry?

“If this is not your favorite, can I ask which is?” He waves you to walk with him.

You follow him into the office at the back of the classroom. He sits in Meelo’s chair, and you sit in the chair that had held you so many times. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion had a you-shaped imprint in it at this point.

He asks a third time, “You don’t seem like the Jane Eyre or Louisa May student, so what is it?”

You let your bag fall off your shoulder and you try to sit up in the chair, asserting some sort of professionalism. Your answer will hold some sort of judgment for him. Although you want to be offended by his comment about the female author’s classics, he’s right. They were never your favorite.

“Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Meelo gave it to me as my first assignment.” You respond, confident in your answer.

He nods in approval, “Lovely choice, very telling. Meelo said you were very bright–one for the classics.”

He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin. His hand reaches up to the gold-rims and pulls them off, clattering onto the desk. He pulls himself towards the desk, resting his elbows on the table.

“Are you going to ask me mine?” He asks, almost presumptuously.

You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he has to find a way to be important here. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms in the process.

“If you want me to know, why don’t you just say it?” You retort.

He chuckles to himself, “Lord of the Rings.”

Your mouth falls so far open that you’re afraid a fly might buzz its way in. You lift your hand to your mouth and try to hide your disapproval.

“That’s a classic for sure.” You reply, “Not one I would’ve expected from a college literature professor, but a classic nonetheless.”

He pushes himself off the desk, running his hands through his long locks before they make their way onto the arms of the seat.

“You don’t approve?” He scoffs.

“I didn’t say that, I just said it’s not one that I would expect.”

“I believe there is a difference between a personal and professional favorite. A favorite you could read over and over again, and you could enjoy without having to think too much about what it all means. it’s an adventure, its heroes and legends, it’s a call for relaxation and enjoyment. I’d rather have my favorite be a well-known classic than a deep thought-provoking story about purity.”

You fight every urge in you to slap the man sitting before you for disgracing such a beautiful novel. But you think about Meelo. You think about stepping outside of the echo chamber.

“I think we may have different opinions on favorites, Professor Kiszka.” You say shortly.

You feel the tension grow between you already. This would be a difficult semester. Even more difficult because as you felt your dislike for him grow, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful man sitting in front of you. His brown eyes stared deep into you, trying to assess his new assistant. You tried not to let him in too far. You were not fawning for him, at least you weren’t trying to. You wanted to fight off the growing warmth crying to spread through you. It was like seeing a handsome stranger in the bar; you knew the danger, but almost didn’t want to let yourself protect your heart.

He was by far the youngest professor here, and the most eligible. No ring was on his finger.

“Please, call me Jacob.”

You stood up from your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You try to compose yourself enough not to let any distaste escape from your lips.

“Sorry, Professor Kiszka, I have finals I need to finish, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you in January. If you need anything from me before then, I believe the dean gave you my information.”

You reach your hand out awkwardly, trying to invite a handshake. He cautiously reaches his hand back, pulling you into a firm, but still gentle handshake.

His eyes meet yours. The deep brown staring into you. Although you should have the power from your standing position, you knew he held all the cards from his seat. The handshake lingered longer than you had expected, both of you locked deep into staring each other down. He finally releases his hand.

“It was a pleasure.” You start to leave the office, but he makes one last remark, “Oh, one last thing…”

You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”

He reaches into the desk and pulls out a cloth-bound book, handing it to you. You slowly return to the desk, taking the book from his hand—the Lord of the Rings.

“Try it for me? You do have a whole winter break…”

You rub your hands over the cover, smiling at his request. You place the book back in his hand.

“I used to read it as a child. No need to give it a try when you’ve read it four times already.” You smile at him.

Even if it wasn’t your favorite, didn’t mean it wasn’t a favorite.

Present

In some ways, your relationship with him felt like a love-lost marriage. Just moving through the motions. You sat in on the classes and took note of who engaged, and who didn’t. You graded assignments, tests, and papers, with him always double-checking and doubting your work. You didn’t sit in on long conversations with him like Meelo. Perhaps some of that was your fault, always quick to get to work. He adjusted to you quickly, understanding how you needed to work, and letting you grieve.

Meelo passed quickly into the semester. You cried once in front of him when the news broke. You nearly snapped his head off when he asked if he could help you. From that moment on he took on this cold persona, but you don’t blame him at all. You knew in your heart that you would not have the same connection with him as Meelo, so it was easier to never try.

Through everything, your work never faltered, and your school work remained the priority. Perhaps it was a way to hide through all the pain but the calculated steps it took to grade provided a soothing rhythm amongst the distress.

You never failed to notice all the times you caught him catching glances at you. You were silly to think that it meant anything more than just a quick look, but still maybe somewhere in your heart, you had hoped that maybe he was thinking of you more than his assistant. For weeks you watched him stroll into class, always wearing a disheveled but somehow put-together outfit. You loved seeing how he would piece together different clothes from his collection. Never repeating an exact outfit, but always finding new ways to repurpose the same items.

One day he walked in with a new addition to his look, a cluster of pendants on a necklace. They looked older, more worn in than any new silver. You asked him about it briefly, trying not to engage in a further conversation.

“They’re coins, Spanish coins, designed after ones from the 1600s. I think the jeweler lied to me when he said they were originals, but they still look okay… Do you think so?

“You look like a pirate.” You responded.

A sexy pirate. You shoved that thought deep into the back of your mind. Holding on to it, because you didn’t want to forget how good he looked.

His Thursday classes were always one of the better ones. This was one that you had to take yourself for your graduate program. There was no TA’ing involved as that would be a huge conflict of interest if you got to grade your papers. You chose to sit in the back corner of the class by the window, in hopes that when spring rolls around you could watch the foliage return. The unfortunate thing about this choice was the waiting. February was colder than you had expected and the windows provided no warmth.

When you were TA’ing you got to sit at the edge of the office and the classroom. Kiszka brought a space heater for you to place at the doorway. He joked he didn’t need his assistant ‘freezing to death’, because then ‘who would grade the papers’.

You tried your hardest to not let him favor you, but you knew he was someone who would be kind no matter how much you asked him to stop. He would leave books on the edge of his desk for you to read and when you tried to return them he declined and told you he already had a copy in his collection. You doubted that and always protested in fear that you thought you might lead him on. But in the end, it was always you walking out with a new book in your bag.

He was trying his hardest to get along with you. Some days it was easier and you would entertain his questions, but other days it was easier to be quick and move along. This relationship was not going to be a fairytale. You had already found your soulmate once, and you lost her. In your mind, there was no more room in your heart to let someone in. And why should you prepare space for someone if you truly don’t know if they want to be there?

This class although interesting became boring as the weeks went on. The class had fallen into a seasonal depression of sorts. Many like you had expected to have Meelo for the semester when you had booked your classes, so when Kiszka showed up and tried to shake things up… It wasn’t easy. He was skilled and smart, sure… But not the same. He craved involvement and wanted the class to join in with him, but often would push people further than they were willing to go. A room full of mid-20-year-olds was truly a space of burnout. Many of these students had already passed four, sometimes five years of school before they stepped into this class. They no longer have that lively interest in reading and analyzing literature but want to create their own.

“-And what was this author trying to convey through his use of metaphors?...” He asked from his commanding space at the front of the class, “No one?... No one picked up on this…? Or are you too scared to be wrong?”

Your attempts at fighting off eye-rolls also subsided the longer this course went on, and this roll came on hard. You’ve heard this line countless times through multiple classes. He wasn’t wrong, but he could at least find different ways to say the statement.

“Y/N? Care to enlighten everyone?” He calls to you, in need of saving the class who had lost attention nearly an hour ago.

“Sure. It’s a metaphor for how women are treated in society.” You answer.

He grits his teeth and sighs, “Not quite, but you’re close…”

You lift yourself from your slump, “No, that’s right. She is clearly trying to convey the expectations of women in society and how we are treated. As a female author, she leaves these metaphors to be very simple for female readers to understand. For males, it’s harder to grasp that the severity of these situations could imply the treatment of women, but that’s what she’s trying to explain.”

He clasps his hands together giving them a brief shake, “That class, that is how you analyze. Literature can be read in different ways by different readers. The author may have a clear intention of what they are trying to write, but others may be able to relate it to other aspects of their life. I have my own interpretation, and you all may have others. That is how this should be working. There is nothing wrong, with how you analyze, just that you have the knowledge to back it up…”

Every time you tried to make him out to be the bad guy, he ended up being in the right. You hated how smart he was. You hated how much you wanted to watch him while he stood up there. You hated how he wasn’t her. But you knew you didn’t want him to leave.

“So with that,” He continues, “Finish up the last few chapters and please come prepared with statements next week about your findings. I want you to dig deep; feel the author. I’ll see you next week.”

The class starts their shuffle for the door, while you meander to your usual spot at the doorway of the office. The next class wouldn’t be in for 20 minutes, but you would at least have time to warm up.

You click on the heater and walk over to Kiszka’s rolling desk chair. You take your coat off and rest it over the seat, pushing it over to the door. Kiszka finds his seat at the front of the classroom, pulling out his book of the week. He usually would try to follow you, asking you what you were reading, then the next day showing up to class with an identical copy. It was annoying and endearing how much he wanted to learn from you. You wondered if it upset him that you weren’t as keen on learning from him.

He confided in you that Meelo was an idol of his as well, and although he didn’t get to learn from her, he was going to try to through you.

You pull your copy of Anna Karenina from your bag and join him. Your chapters ahead of him, but you enjoy being one step in front of him.

You peep up from the back of the room, “I didn’t ask, but please tell me this isn’t your first time reading this.”

He lifts his head from the book slightly, eyes still skimming the page, “Third.”

You sigh in relief. That would’ve been embarrassing; for him.

You return to the book. You’re finding it harder to dive in today than usual, something is different… You see out of the corner of your eye that Kiszka has put down the book altogether, and you can sense him staring. This lasts a few moments, but you try to remain focused on the words, but catching yourself having to re-read the paragraphs; not processing the sentences you’ve already read.

A minute goes by and he hasn’t returned to his pages. Instead, you hear the squeak of his chair rolling over to his computer. A few clicks and a frenzy of taps on the keyboard.

“Hey.” He prods.

You look up again from the book. He peers at you over the edge of his computer and then closes it so he can see you better. He grasps his jaw lightly, stroking it in his hands.

“Yes?” You asked, trying not to seem annoyed by the interruption.

“Let’s go over your manuscript. I want to see it.” He continues.

No. It’s not time yet. You’ve been meticulously editing it for months now. He wasn’t supposed to read it until midterms, you were supposed to have more time…

You drop the book into your lap, “It’s not ready…” You close the book, “Also we have class in twenty minutes, you won’t be able to read it all by then.”

He stands up from his seat, straightening his vest out, “I canceled class. Pull it out.”

Two Hours Later

Some time had passed. You both sat in his office now. Him at… his… desk, and you still positioned by the heater at the door. At this point you were warm enough to finally take your sweater off, stripping down to a simple black t-shirt. You saw him staring through the pages when you pulled the sweater off. If he had looked any harder you think he might burn a hole through the book.

The office was silent except for the occasional click and clack of the heater, and the flickering of the candle on his desk. He flipped through the lightly bound pages while you continued through your reading. Every couple of minutes you could hear the stroke of his red pen hit the pages. The words or corrections will wait for you later. You could sit and scoff at them later in your apartment. The man said his favorite book was Lord of the Rings, how could you possibly trust his editorial judgment?

You had made it about a hundred or so pages through your book, which was slower than you would’ve liked. You still couldn’t breach the interferences. You thought the silence would help, but hearing his hums, his pen strokes, the occasional sip of scotch… It was all a distraction.

You couldn’t stop looking up from the book to watch him slyly admire your work. You knew your writing was good; Meelo had seen the early stages of it all. She heard the direction and loved every word… A complete sadness rushed over you thinking of how she would never see the final product.

Kiszka would adjust himself every few minutes; switching positions in his seat. You wanted to trust yourself enough not to look every time he shifted his hips, but those linen pants he loved so much left little to wonder about him. You had a closeness to him that you didn’t want to admit. As many differences as there were between you, there were just as many similarities. He was an outsider here; you could see that clearly. The other professors didn’t trust him because of his age- the students tried to walk all over him because of that too.

Even though you wanted to hate how pretentious he seemed, deep down you knew it was a facade to seem more studious to others. You saw the real him in glimpses. The kindness he offered to you that many others most likely wouldn’t have. Your youth and love for literature matched his perfectly, although you couldn’t always find the way to express it correctly. Your loyalty to Meelo prevented that at every chance.

Letting him read this manuscript was a big step that you didn’t fully even realize until he had reached the halfway point. You wanted to go and rip the pages out of his hand, throw them out the window, prevent him from seeing you too deeply… But something inside you needed to know what he thought of it.

Frustrated by your lack of progress, you lowered the book into your lap. You took this time to look around the room. It had changed so much since you had seen it back in December. Kiszka’s library had taken up the room, along with his record collection. When you would come by early in the morning to drop off the graded work, you would hear him playing some of it. Blues, rock, the classics. You never disturbed him during these times, it felt too intimate to interrupt. Instead, you would place the binder of essays on his classroom desk and scurry away before he could come to say hello.

You place your bookmark into the page opening. You calmly stand and place the book where you once sat. Quietly, you make your way over to his collection.

You see him peer up through the pages. Curious about your movements, watching you silently behind the manuscript.

You lower yourself to the floor, sifting through the jackets of the vinyls. Alphabetical. Of course. You make your way quickly through the a’s and land through the b’s. As cliche as it seems, you truly love Abbey Road, and of course, there it is front and center with the other Beatles albums. You pull it out from the shelf, removing the jacket carefully from the sleeve. You lift the vinyl out and place it on the record player. It’s a modern one, which feels very out of character for Kiszka. He always seemed like the type to randomly have every item of his be nothing newer than 20 years old.

You press play and lower the needle onto the music.

Come Together plays softly through the speakers. You turn to look back at him, seeing if there is any protest. Instead, he has the red pen out, slashing across the paper. You grit your teeth and try not to engage. You return to his collection, running your fingers along the remainder of the vinyl. The plastic tickles through your fingers, creating a click, click sound as each jacket releases from your hold.

Although you did want Kiszka to keep reading, you felt it was necessary to distract him, to try and persuade him to step away…

You continue from the vinyl collection, traipsing through the room. It’s like a library out of a movie, truly. You admired his office deeply and loved to gaze at it while he was lecturing. Sometimes when he was deep in his philosophy of literature speeches, you would lean back in the chair and try to read the book titles from afar. Your eyesight was good, but not good enough to make out the exact names of all of them. You never dared to peruse like this before, but this moment presented the perfect opportunity.

You were his captive for the remainder of his reading. Well… In all reality, you didn’t have to be here, but you didn’t dare leave that manuscript alone. It had been stored with you in your tote for the past month. You tried to take chunks of edits at a time, working through it yourself when you had time but didn’t want to share it with anyone until you felt that it was complete.

You tried to fight Kiszka off, but the notion of him canceling class meant that he found taking the time to do this very important…

The books that were displayed on these shelves were not the type of books that you would find at your local bookstore. They were older, worn in, some of them originals, even some you haven’t read yet. Maybe he did have some things that he could show you…

You make your way to the last set of bookshelves, rounding the back corner of the office. The last edge of the wall had his makeshift bar.

The liquor was all dark, amber-colored. Very manly, you thought to yourself. Bottles of whiskey and scotch lined the makeshift bar. Jack Daniels, Sazerac Rye, Macallan Double Cask… You recognized some of the labels.

Kiszka crept up behind you, “If you wanted a glass, you could’ve asked.”

He reaches down below you to fetch a rocks glass from the bar. He grabs the Macallan Double Cask and pours a finger for you. The alcohol flows effortlessly out of the bottle, barely splashing into the glass. He hands the glass to you, your hand brushing his. His touch is warm… Kind. He takes his other hand and grabs your shoulder, in a comforting way. You want to seem completely normal, but feel your cheeks getting rosy from the touch. You suck on your bottom lip and try to hide your face.

You take a large swig of the scotch, trying to be mindful of not wasting such a good drink. He looks at you, shocked at your ability to take it so easily.

“Wow. Good.” Is the only words he can mutter.

You smile meekly. The praise makes you feel undoubtedly shyer than you had just before.

“Are these originals?” You ask, pointing to the corner section of his library, “I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to touch them if they were.”

“Many of them, yes,” He responds, “I trust that you would be gentle with them, please, which one were you curious about?”

You make your way over to the shelf, placing your drink down on the small table near the corner. You reach up to fold out the red bound book. Its title was completely faded from the binding, but we’re curious as to which one it was. He follows closely behind you, close enough to almost be on you.

He laughs, “Funny you should grab that..”

You open the cover to find Lord of the Rings printed in big black letters.

“Oh, dear god.” You sigh.

“It is an original if that makes you feel any better about it. I know you hate this book, but still-”

“No, no,” You protest, “I never said I hated it, I just said it wasn’t my favorite. Remember we have different opinions on that professor.”

He scoffs and takes the book from your hand. Rubbing the cloth binding with his thumbs.

“Want to know something funny?” He questions.

You did. You really did. You wanted the connection at this moment… For whatever cosmic reason it finally felt okay to banter with him. You nod your head, approving him to continue.

“I saw the movies before I read the books.” He laughs, “My brothers and I loved it, we were practically obsessed, but I was younger then and a stupid boy who didn’t read like I do now. Not the fairytale way most people find their favorite but it reminds me of childhood…”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to make fun of him for it. But you knew that this was a special moment for him. A look into his past, a presentation for more. He places the book carefully back on the shelf, tucking it back into its spot.

“Well, I guess that makes more sense now. But, as a graduate professor, you ought to just say you like the pretentious shit. No one’s going to take you seriously.”

He turns from the shelf, “Who said I was worried about that? If I lie then I am a fraud. I don’t care if anyone says that.”

Oh fuck. His confidence is so intoxicating. He’s right. Why should he care?

“I just- I meant… I thought that the other professors-”

“You thought that they don’t take me seriously? Right. They don’t. In schools like this, you have to earn respect. I’m not an alumnus, I didn’t go to Harvard, but I do a damn good job at what I do. As much as you may protest some of my teaching, I know what I’m doing.”

He breezes past you and strolls back over to the bar to pour himself another drink. You reach back for yours and hold it between your hands, trying to collect yourself. You hope that you didn’t hurt him.

“Did I offend you?” You ask.

“‘Course not,” He takes a swig, “I just wish you would realize that it doesn’t matter what standards others hold you to. You are not someone else. You are you.”

“I know that.” You respond dryly. Your answer didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to be. It came out unsure and desperate.

“Then why has your whole academic career been based on your relationship with one woman? Why must everything you do be for her?...”

You stand there silently. Completely struck with emotions. Anger, sadness, discouragement.

“She… She made me who I am,” You pipe, “She’s the reason I am in this program.”

He strolls back over to you, locking your eyes with his. It’s intimidating, this look he has on his face. He’s studying you, seeing how lost you feel. Truly for the first time you couldn’t even try to put up any walls. He had broken you down.

He places his hand on your shoulder again, “Can I show you something?” He asks.

Before you have time to even object to him, his hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, guiding you back towards his desk. You feel butterflies growing inside you.

No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He is your advisor. He is not someone you should feel this way about. He’s trying to help you, he’s not interested in you.

The vinyl finishes its song and moves on to Something. He guides you into his seat. You place the glass down on the desk and wipe the condensation from your hands onto your thighs. He reaches over the desk and twirls the manuscript back in front of you. The pages sit open about two-thirds of the way through. He stands behind you, practically leaning on your back. His chest rests against your shoulder, pointing at the beginning of the page.

“See this paragraph here?” He questions.

You strain so hard to not melt at his touch. His hair is grazing your cheek. It smells wonderful, but you can’t admit that. He has this gentle but clean musk about him. He smells like a perfectly cared-for bookstore. A soft smell of tobacco and oak. The chains with pendants are draping over his neck, sparkling in the moonlight of the night, softly clanking together with his movement

You need to focus.

You respond, afraid that you waited too long, “Yes?” Your voice wavers, the lack of confidence creeping back through, “Is there something wrong with it?”

He turns to face you, “Yes. I have a big problem with it.”

You feel your heart sink. What could be wrong with it? The back half of the book is the best part, it is the part you feel most confident with. You feel confused. All of those walls and confidence you felt once in his presence were lost.

“What…? What problem?”

You look back at the pages, disregarding his closeness to you, pulling the bundle of paper back towards you, and flipping through to the previous pages. He puts his hand on yours, stopping you from searching. He lowers himself next to the seat, squatting to be at your eye level. His thumb wanders back and forth over your wrist.

He smiles a crooked and cunning smile, “It’s some of the best writing I’ve seen in years, and the author was too scared to even share it with anyone. She lost someone and had to do this all on her own. That’s terrifying, but it’s still her work. ”

You look at the hand holding yours. It’s strong but has a softness to it. It has a few rings sitting on them, but none a wedding band. You lower your head and release your wrist, grabbing it with your other hand. You sigh heavily and grasp your hands in front of the pages. Your hands travel up to hide your face, which presents a melancholic smile that you can’t let go of. You can’t tell if it’s the liquor or his presence, but you feel a glow coming from inside.

You rush your hands past your face and through your hair, resting your hands on the back of your neck. Scoffing, you turn to look at him. His amused smile is irresistible.

“You,” He starts, “Are an amazing writer.” His hand lifts from the pages and reaches up towards your cheek, holding your face in his palm, “And no matter who your teacher is, you can still do it on your own.”

Your hand finds its way up to his arm, holding him back. Staring longingly at each other. Both deep down knowing that this was about to lead down a path you couldn’t return from.

“Professor-” You initiate.

“Jacob.” He replies.

“Fine… Jacob. This- I… I don’t think.”

He quickly removes his hand from your face and comes to his senses. “Oh, dear, um… I’m so sorry y/n… I…”

You let yourself slump in the seat. How could you? How could you squander that moment? After years of wishing to find a man who was at least half as interested in literature as you… Here you are throwing it away. But you could be right to do so. He was your professor, you were his assistant, the moral implications of this all…

Jacob stands and leans back onto the desk, stroking his chin, concerned. Thinking about it all. You can see the nerves climbing through him. He feels embarrassed.

You reach your hand up to your face again, burying your emotions into your skin.

“I just thought- I, fuck.” He continues, “I thought we were turning a corner, I was looking and I thought I saw you-”

“You did.” You respond, “...I was looking.”

You lower your hand from your face to stare back at him. You put the manuscript back on the desk and stand.

“You… You were?” He searches for the answer.

“Jacob… For months I have looked. I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. My mentor was my heart and soul, she was everything to me. I didn’t want to give you any chances because I didn’t want to lose someone like that again… I can’t handle that heartbreak. But…” You trail off.

“But?” He inquires.

You reach for the scotch glass and swirl the liquid around. Staring deep into the stormy amber.

“Fuck it.” You take the last of the scotch into your mouth and turn back to Jacob, “You… You are what I’ve wanted. I can’t deny the way I feel when it’s just us. When I see you deep in thought, when you push me to go further; when you challenge me. When we’re alone, and I see you for the man you are. When I see how genuinely fucking amazing you are. And I’m so mad at myself for not opening myself to you.”

Jacob peels himself off the desk and stances himself in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them tenderly in his. You drop your head, your hair falling over your frustrated expression.

“You were grieving, you wouldn’t have been ready for this.” He reaches his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You look up to him with doe eyes. He was the older man, coming in for the prey. You wanted to be his. You wanted to have him. You wanted it. You denied it for months. You denied it from the moment you saw him. You denied yourself to knowing him in fear that this exact moment would happen. But here you were. Unveiling yourself to him in the very place you felt the first attraction.

“I want to be ready. No, I am ready. I want this. I can’t deny myself happiness because of everything that happened,” You said.

“Are you sure?” He asked. Trying to test you.

You nod your head in approval, trying once again to keep the emotions bottled in.

“I don’t want you to feel any pressure because-”

“Please don’t say it. I know. I know this is all morally fucked up, but I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Just treat me like one.”

He smiles, admiring your maturity, “If you want to do this, there are some things we have to settle first.”

You look up at him confused, “Things? What things?”

“More like rules,” He answers, titling his head playfully, “I need to know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to scare you even more than you already seem.”

He returns his hand to hold your face, just like he previously had only moments before.

“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”

“As much as I like to be gentle with women, I also enjoy being rough.” He says through a velvety tone

You jolt back, at first fearful of his words, but relax quickly, reminding yourself you don’t need to be scared.

“How rough are we talking…” You prod.

The cunning smile returns across his face, “Don’t worry, I don’t leave marks, at least too bad of marks… And only rough enough that you’ll still be wanting more by the time we’re done.”

You bite your lip at the thought. You’re no virgin at this point in your life, but you’ve never been able to explore this type of intimacy. Every man in college is practically an amateur at pleasuring women and even more so when it comes to exploration in sex. You’ve read plenty of books to know about the type of sex he was talking about. As much as you enjoyed the classics and the light-hearted romance, you still found yourself picking up a steamier romance book in private.

You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before…

Being here with this man, who was only a few years your senior, felt like you could practice this fantasy safely. He knew what he was doing, he could show you pleasures you didn’t even know you could enjoy. Even if you felt like you couldn’t learn more from your education with him, perhaps there were other things he could teach you. It was all becoming a bit too exciting.

His hand moves slowly down from your cheek to your waist. His palms gently grazed your spine until they locked in on your love handles.

“So,” He continues, “Are you going to be my good girl? Can you be good for me? Do you think you can take it?”

You reach out to his chest, moving aside his shirt which had barely been buttoned. With one swipe down his sternum, you unlatched all of them revealing his smooth golden skin. He watched you intently, seeing you explore his skin like never before. You traced your fingers along the opening, feeling your need to reach more grow. With each second that passed you felt the insatiable thirst to be close to him; to feel him. His grip on your waist tightened with each pass you made over his chest.

His other hand joined him on your opposite side. You feared that your hips may break with his excited hold. You looked up at him, biting your lip, trying to remain coy. That soft smile appeared on his lips; you had answered with your body language.

He pushes his hands further into you and lifts you onto the desk, your ass barely resting on the edge of the wood.

“Words,” He said, pulling himself closer into you, resting perfectly between your legs, “Nothing’s going to happen until you tell me you want it to. This isn’t going to work sweetheart unless you use your words.”

“Jacob-” Are the only breathy words that you can mutter.

You can feel him growing, feel the linen pants barely holding back his excitement. You feel your heartbeat travel from your chest, down into your stomach, into your…

His hand moves up to your jaw, holding it firmly in his grip, “Y/N, follow the instructions. Words. I’m not going to wait much longer.”

“Yes-”

Before you can even finish he’s pulling you into an embrace. Your lips meet his. The soft taste of scotch remaining on both of you created an intoxicating addicting feeling. It was complete passion, complete neediness to be one. His tongue introduces itself into your mouth… Soft, wet. Beckoning. The noises you both are making sound feral, completely unusual for the both of you. What once was a prim and proper relationship between you became a fervent desperation to touch… To fuck.

His hands traveled down your body, first reaching your chest, grasping you completely in his hand. Rolling his palms over the front of your breasts, driving you completely mad. You wished the barriers of clothing had been completely stripped away, but he was too hungry to even keep you waiting for long. His hands reached under your shirt, plowing underneath the wire of your bra to find your naked breasts. A soft relieving moan escaped your lips through the breaths of the kissing.

You reached your hands out to find the remainder of the buttons of his vest closing you off to his body. You made quick work of unbuttoning them, reaching your hands across his midsection; climbing to his back. Reaching up towards his shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin across the pads of your fingers. God, he was perfect.

His fingers traveled to your nipples, running his thumb and forefinger over the bud of your nipples. Before you could even realize what you were doing, your nails dragged down his back, raking into his skin. He paused the kissing for a moment to let out a moaning growl. He slid his hands out from your bra, slipping down to the edges of your shirt, attempting to tug it off as fast as he could. You snatched your hands out of his shirt to raise them over your head, giving him complete access to strip you.

He placed his hand between your breasts and forced you down onto the desk, your head falling onto the manuscript below you. He shook off his vest and was quick to pull his shirt off.

“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes it rough, huh?” He asked.

You lifted your head from the desk, “No, definitely not.” You responded. Unsure where this untamed version of you had even come from.

“No, sir” He stated, pushing you back down.

“What?” You asked, skeptical of what he meant.

He mounted himself once again between your legs, grinding himself into you. He traced his finger down your neck, to the waistline of your pants.

“Sir… That’s what my good girls going to call me, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, unaware that you were even doing so, “Call me Jacob,” you mock, “Call me sir.”

He reached back up to your jaw, pushing his thumb into your cheek, “If you’re going to be a brat we’re going to need to set some more rules. Good girls don’t get punished, but you’re already testing me.”

Completely stunned, you look back at him trying to emulate a softness, an apology. You had to admit though, you weren’t scared of him… If anything you were more turned on by the thought of his punishments.

“And how would you punish me, sir?” You ask in your best sultry voice.

He let out a low grumbling laugh. He studied your body, not even acknowledging your question, just thinking… Thinking of what he would do to you. He grabbed onto your hips and pulled you hard into his cock. There was no wondering anymore. You could feel how large he was, how excited he was. If your own body wasn’t blocking it you could probably see it entirely.

“Maybe,” He starts, “Maybe you’re not going to be my good girl,” His hands dig deeper into your waist, “Maybe, you’re going to be my little slut.”

The word echoed through the room. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not the feeling of being displeased, it was a feeling of being right. Being here with him, being under his control, felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. He could see you in a way that someone hasn’t seen you for months. He was learning every inch of you and would learn even more as the night went on.

He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion.

“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.”

You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own.

His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses.

“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”

His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him.

“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…”

Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease.

His kisses start to graze you closer to your…

He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means.

“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.”

He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”

“Good girl.”

Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you.

Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-”

Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to.

His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder.

“Green?” He asks, looking for permission.

You nodded your head ferociously

You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop.

“Words.” He barked.

Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…”

“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.

“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg.

The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again.

He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding.

Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room.

“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”

You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you.

His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks.

“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?”

Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now.

“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”

Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you.

He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity.

“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”

He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once.

He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending. It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more.

You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you.

Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation.

He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end.

Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness…

He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped…

Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen.

A knock at the classroom door.

“Hello?” Someone called out.

There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew.

“Everything okay in here Kiszka?”

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”

#jake kiszka #greta van smut #gvf fic #gvf smut #jake kiskza x reader #jtk x reader #jake gvf #professor fic #gvf #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka angst #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut

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cherrywrecked · 7 months

Text

roommates — m. sakura x you.

(tags: college roommates au. sakura x fem reader. fingering. oral, sakura receiving. scissoring. dirty talking. did i mention, sub!kkura? mommy kink!) i can't provide a word count for this since i basically wrote it in app already— but i hope it's still easy and enjoyable to read, regardless.

it was the weekend after your exams week. you had always been the studious type, focused, but ever since that night before the exams week, you can't seem to get sakura, your roommate, out of your head. the way she moaned out your name while sucking her tits or how hard she came all over your fingers— you were distracted, least to say.

the moment you got back to your apartment, you saw her in the living room, getting ready to go out. wearing a pink button down top, she was only in her panties as she buttoned her blouse. she had always been like this, though. the both of you have been living together since freshman year and have grown close to each other. seeing her half naked was not new to you nor her anymore. but god forbid, everything changed since the first time you did it with her. “hey, you done with exams?” she asked, glancing at you through the mirror. you only hummed in response, checking her ass out. that, she noticed but only shrugged it off. “how was it? should we go out to celebrate or to sulk over your possible scores?” sakura jokes, now finally facing you. her stomach, and basically her lower body half naked. you got closer, a hand reaching out to grab her by the arm and pulled her in, your free arm now slipped around her tiny waist. she was caught off guard by the sudden closeness but did not push you away.

“hey, are you okay? i'm worried.” she pouted which made you chuckle. such an innocent little kitten, you thought to yourself. she doesn't even know how horny you already are for her. “exams were okay. a bit distracted, but i'm pretty sure i still passed most, if not all of them.” you simply replied, brushing her hair out of her face, revealing more of her neck. the closeness, the sweetness... it was all too good for the both of you. sakura hummed, leaning in subconsciously against your hand. “distracted... that's new. you're never distracted when it comes to your studies, what's up?” she was obviously concerned but instead of answering her, all you did was to pull her into a kiss, soft and slow at first, but the moment she reciprocated the movements of your lips, the kiss grew needy.

“hey, wait—” you shook your head, forcing yourself more against her. you pushed her against the full body mirror she was just looking at herself from before you came in, your needy tongue forcing itself inside her mouth earning a moan from the smaller frame. sakura gives up from resisting you and closed her eyes whilst opening her mouth for your tongue to explore her wetness. “you're so pretty.” after a while, you started dragging your lips along her jaw, down to her neck. all sakura could do was submit herself to you and for you. “mommy...” she whimpers out as she leans her head back against the mirror as your lips plant soft kisses just above her cleavage, hands unbuttoning her top, as well as her bra which the clasp was at the front, earning a big sigh from her. “that feels good?” you chuckled lowly before bringing yourself up once more, giving her another kiss. this time, you slipped your arms around her waist, patting her bottoms and she immediately knew what to do. like the obedient little girl she was, she immediately clung onto you, with you now carrying little sakura in your arms, the kiss never once breaking.

sakura loves kissing you, but she wants more. she wants more of you. she finds herself now pressing, even grinding herself against you. this made you smirk against her skin, pulling away just before your kisses could reach her mounds. “mommy, no... no, why did you stop...” she looks at you with eyes. ah, she looks so pretty. she sounds pretty too and you were determined to hear more of her pleas. you pulled away, confusing kkura. you took off your clothes one by one, leaving you only with you pair of panties, black, as you prefer them to be and sakura does that as well—removing what's left in her body— her panties. she laid there naked, waiting for you. “mhm, look at you, i haven't even asked you to strip naked for me, but here you are.” your remark made her blush. “been waiting for me all day? is that why you purposely roamed around with only your panties on, mhm, kkura?” sakura felt so dirty, because it was true. she never had plans on going out anyways, she just wanted you to see her all dolled up for you.

“n-no! no. i w-was going to meet up with my f-friends...” she lied. she knows it well that it was a bad idea for her to do so, but she still did, making you raise a brow at her. carefully placing yourself in between her legs which she spread widely for you, you gave her inner thighs a slap. “so, you weren't waiting for me? you weren't getting dolled up for me to use?” you say, slapping and touching everywhere but where she wants you to touch her with every after word.

“who were you getting dolled up for, then, huh? looking pretty for someone else as if they can touch you better than i did?” you let out a bitter chuckle as you finally pressed against her clit, slowly but hardly rubbing her. sakura can't help but to move around, flinching as you teasingly pinch her sensitive muscle. “who is it, mhm? yunjin? chaewon? but they can't get you this wet by just kissing and slapping, can't they?” sakura could only shake her head profusely at the mention of her friends. “n-no! no, mommy! i-i... i did it for you.”, there we go. you smirked at her words before you stuck your tongue out to lick the length of her cunt, earning a long moan from the girl.

“that's right. you only want me, don't you, pretty?” sakura could only nod her head in agreement with your words as she felt hazy with how your lips were wrapped around her clit, sucking and lightly biting on it while your finger teases her hole. sakura's so, so wet for you. as if she had been waiting for you the whole week like you were for her. like she could only be this slutty for you, and only you. “m-mommy, it f-feels so good! more, please... i need more.”, your little girl pleaded as she grinds herself against your face, greedy to feel your fingers inside of her dripping cunt.

“aw, my little girl knows how to use her words well, doesn't she? even using please.” you mocked her all while two of your fingers slip inside her cunt, making sakura throw her head back in pleasure, her moans growing louder even more so when you stopped laughing at her neediness and went back into sucking, teasing her clit at the same fast pace your fingers and going inside of her.

exchange of pleas and curses repeatedly were the only words you can hear from sakura. she can't think, but she knows she loves the way you're touching her. “m-mommy, it feels so nice... f-fuck! right there! please, mommy! faster, faster!” sakura's voice raised an octave and in volume as the tip of your fingers found her sweet spot, repeatedly hitting it. you loved watching her throw herself around the bed, back arched as she felt a knot forming her abdomen. “c-cum... mommy can i cum? please, mommy, i'm so so close! please please please... fuck. mommy! mommy!” sakura couldn't even wait for you to use your words and allowed herself to cum all over your fingers and mouth, her juices coating, creaming around your index and middle finger. “good girl, baby.” you smiled at her as you pulled your fingers from her cunt, earning a whine from her.

without wasting time, sakura sat up from her position, legs still wobbly and breath still shaking. she took your fingers into her mouth as she used her hands to tug on your panties, as if asking you to take them off, which you did, finally exposing how wet you are for her as she was for you. “want more, mommy, please. more of you, please?” sakura practically begged through her lustful eyes, tongue licking your fingers clean. you swiftly shifted her position, hooking her legs with yours as you positioned her atop of you, both your wet pussies touching each other. the both of you let put a long, needy moan while sakura threw her head back, hips starting to move without even thinking twice. she looked fucking amazing with her hair messed up, her tits jiggling along with the movements of her hips.

sakura's lips were ajar as she moaned your name out, louder as you started to pinch her nipples, adding more pleasure for the girl. “that's it, baby. you're such a good girl for mommy, aren't you? faster, baby. you feel so good against mommy.” your dirty talking only added more fuel to the fire and she does as she was told. purposely grinding your hips with hers, her movements grew sloppier. you held her waist trying to keep her steady, but you were reaching your high too. “fuck, baby. i'm so close. keep going, sakura.” you moaned out loud before pulling her by her neck for a kiss—tongue forcing its way inside her mouth, moaning against it. you could feel her juices mix with yours drip on your ass cheeks and fuck, it was driving you insane. sakura's driving you insane.

soon enough, the both of you reach your high. “m-mommy! mommy! f-fuck, fuck! fuck.” sakura screams as her body convulsed and drop on top of you and you could only hug her as you too, share your fair share of body shuddering. your head was all over the clouds, but sakura. sakura passed out already and you can only chuckle at that. carefully carrying her to a more comfortable position, you laid beside her and held her close to your arm. “thank you, baby.” you whispered and kissed her forehead. sakura heard that, but she was too tired, giving only a hum and a nuzzled against your neck, making your heart flutter with how cute she is right now.

this might not just be the lust you're feeling for her, after all.

#kyna writes #le sserafim smut #sakura smut #miyawaki sakura smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #gxg smut #sakura x oc #sakura x reader #wlw ns/fw

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bonny-kookoo · 4 months

Text

Jungkook/platonic!OT7

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 [Part 4: Skies]

In which you realize that you're no longer alone.

Main tags/Warnings: Werewolf!Jungkook, Werewolf!Bangtan, strangers/enemies to lovers, romantic Jungkook x reader, Platonic bangtan x reader, eventual smut, mentions of past emotional/psychological manipulation, hurt and comfort, fluff!, some Angst, mostly fluff tho

Length: 5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: hi I really like this fic and I refuse to let it end up in the basement

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

You've become rather stubborn and even after consulting a specialist- you just refuse to take any of the meds despite Jungkook's clear advice to take them for now. And while he can understand you, somewhat, there are simply consequences to that choice you made.

"I'll leave your groceries in front of your door then." He says with a sigh, and you feel yourself sit straighter now at the other end of the call. "It's probably not a good idea for me to actually come inside if you're off your meds-" he begins, and you panic.

"I can just take them right now!" You hurry out, not wanting to be alone. "I can take them now, and you.. come back later? I don't know.." You mumble, and Jungkook fights a little with himself as he walks into the hallway of your apartment building to enter the elevator, finger of the hand that's holding the plastic bag pressing the right button. "I don't want to be alone.." You say, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair in front of your door.

"Listen, I know, trust me I get it." He says. "But I'm not sure what the effect of me might be on you right now." He admits. "You might feel like you want me close right now, but once I'm there that could instantly change. Those mood swings can be wild, I'm telling you!" He laughs, attempting to change your mind.

"...how do you know?" You wonder quietly, though you're not sure if you want to know the answer to that. Of course he's probably been with other wolves in the past. Pretty ones who know themselves well and are proud and all that. Maybe he's seeing someone right now. You wouldn't be surprised- he's pretty handsome and a nice guy too.. one would be stupid to pass up on an opportunity to date him. Do wolves even date? Or do they just kind of.. live in a pack?

What do wolf-relationships look like? And why do you even think about that with him? He's clearly just your friend, nothing more than that.

"My mom is an omega." Jungkook cuts through your thoughts. "And trust me, she kicks me out randomly whenever I visit unannounced just because she can't stand my alpha-smell!" He laughs, but you're quiet. Of course his parents are wolves too. Yours were one's too- but you'll never have that at all. You'll never have that kind of family that Jungkook has. And even if he was interested in you, what would his parents even think of you?

A girl that was hidden away because her own stepmother was ashamed of what she was. Who'd want that?

"Hey." Jungkook speaks through the phone, before he knocks on your door. "Let's.. maybe you can take a peak and decide if you can handle it?" He offers as a compromise, and you get up to answer the door, unsure what he's talking about since you don't feel anything at all the moment you crack the door open to look at him dressed in a leather jacket.

And then it hits you, and you know exactly what he meant- though not in the way he explained it.

You're basically salivating at the thought of having him close- and it's not at all in any sexual sense whatsoever. Just the sight of him makes you feel like you're starving, like you're gonna pass out if he's not holding you up any second now, and he visibly seems to understand as he gently pushes the door a bit further open. "You can kick me out any time." He reassures you. "Won't be mad at all, promise." Jungkook makes sure you know, and you nod, stepping back reluctantly to let him inside.

You feel like a creep. He could literally have a girlfriend and you're here acting like he's your long lost army husband coming home from war!

"I bought all that you said you needed, and some extra things, just in case." He explains as he sets the bag down in the kitchen, before he turns, probably some of his senses tingling or something as you simply nod at him, avoiding eye contact. He doesn't really elaborate on what 'just in case' means- but you're also not in the mood for any of it, body not feeling like your own at the moment. "You know, it's okay to give in." He chuckles. Considering you've not kicked him out yet, and going after your scent alone, he knows exactly what you're struggling with.

"No.. I- I don't want to overstep some boundary, you know.." You shrug to yourself. "I know.. I know I wouldn't want my boyfriend to like, cuddle with some stranger girl in her apartment and all that.." You begin, before you cringe. "Oh god I don't know why I brought that up I'm sorry-"

"It's completely fine, really." He laughs. "And understandable. Omegas tend to be pretty physical most of the time- nothing wrong with that." Jungkook explains. "And- I also don't have a girlfriend right now, so no worries there either." The wolf tells you, making you nod a bit awkwardly.

You feel nauseous even though you've actually taken at least the minimum of your medication before he came, just out of panic. It's like you're going to cry and sob and throw a tamper tantrum if he's not getting close in the next few minutes. This is stupid. How long will it take for your dumb pills to take effect and make you normal again?

What even is normal at this point?

Jungkook moves to shed his jacket, a wave of his scent hitting you so much it makes you have to adjust your position a little as to not sway and fall over, and if he noticed he chooses not to comment on it, simply leading you towards something he's already spotted.

Your couch is covered in blankets and pillows and sweaters even. You're nesting, and you probably have no idea you're even doing it.

"I have to cook though-" you weakly argue, absolutely his slave however as he sits down in the blanket mess with you, helping you to lean closer to him- and the moment you catch his scent so strong, you're a goner, all shame thrown out the window as you pretty much push him onto his back to lay on him, arms and legs around him to keep him close and immobile- but all he does is laugh a little under his breath and grab a stray blanket thrown over the back of the couch to put it over your back. He moves a bit to adjust the things underneath his head and back a bit, but he soon settles, hand on your back running up and down in a soothing motion.

It's not all that bad actually, at least not when he's around like this.

You can feel how heightened your senses are like this- from your hearing to your sense of smell and even taste, somehow the tips of your fingers feel more sensitive to touch just as much. "...will I ever get used to it?" You worry, and Jungkook nods.

"I'm sure of it." He agrees optimistically. "And I'll be there every step of the way." Jungkook promises, making you cling just a little closer to him.

And as you fall asleep, he can't help but think just how good you feel in his arms like this, safe and protected-

and most of all warm, as your scent lulls him to sleep as well.

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

When you wake up a few hours later, it seems like you're getting a taste of what Jungkook's wolf behaviour can actually look like if he's not awake enough to really control himself like he does whenever he’s typically around you these days.

Because the moment you attempt to get up, a growl leaves him, rumbling from deep within his chest- a warning for you to stay put, as he instead moves around a bit with his arms around you, and at this point, it's his body that almost entirely covers yours, as if to hide you away beneath him. There's no sexual intentions, that much is clear- and it also, surprisingly, doesn't scare you.

Like a voice is there, deep down in the back of your brain, telling you that this isn't something to be panicking about.

But you really need to go use the bathroom, bladder screaming for you to get up and relieve yourself- so you slip out under his arms, before you rush to enter the small room, closing the door behind you. It’s odd how.. Good you feel with him in your home, like there’s nothing to worry about at all as long as he’s here. Even the thought of your potential future to come doesn’t appear as scary as it usually does.

He’d told you you’ll be part of his pack if you end up failing your evaluation. So you’ll be fine, right?

Will Namjoon even accept you? He appeared to be very friendly, so he might. But there’s always a potential that having a female in the group could prove to be too difficult to handle. Would Jungkook stay with you in that case? Or at least help you find another pack that wants you?

You’re drying your hands after washing them when you hear something fall in the living room, opening the bathroom door to take a look- when Jungkook exhales in relief at the sight of you, visibly distressed. “Something wrong?” You wonder, and he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair to sort himself.

“No- no no, just.. Some stupid instinct stuff, don’t worry about it.” He laughs off, though you can see how he fidgets around still, so you walk a little closer, unsure.

“I.. Uhm, can I help you?” You ask, and he looks up at that, a bit confused. “I mean, you look a little.. I don’t know. I feel like I should do something to help you..” You mumble, and at that, his expression softens.

“It’s called nurturing instinct.” He explains. “Common with wolves of your subgender. But uh.. Mostly towards, you know.. Young wolves or..” He fidgets around a bit again, before he plays with his lip piercing. “..or.. towards mates.” He shrugs, as if he doesn’t care- but he does a horrible job at masking his emotions.

“Oh.” You simply answer, a bit surprised. “Does one like.. Choose a mate? Or is it some sort of..” Jungkook laughs a little, walking towards the mess of blankets on the couch with you, where you instantly hide your legs beneath the soft fabrics, Jungkook doing the same before his hands reach out to help you adjust the blankets.

“It’s not some magical soulmate thing.” He chuckles. “People believe it is, but it’s not.” He shrugs. “It’s just a combination of.. Emotional connection and some instincts sprinkled in. Really not that different from regular relationships.” He explains to you, and you nod.

“So because I like you, I want to.. Take care of you?” You wonder, and he nods, before his head snaps towards you, as if he just realized what you said. “What?”

“Nothing!” He barks out almost, looking away. “Just uh.. I like you too. So, that’s why I got.. Kind of clingy earlier when we were asleep.” He mumbles.

“Oh. It didn’t actually bother me at all.” You make sure to tell him. “Just.. I needed to pee, so that’s why I kind of ran off like that.” You giggle, visibly making him relax again.

“I was about to apologize the hell out of that situation.” He laughs. “I- it’s something my pack is a bit worried about. I’m not just a standard alpha after all, and neither are you just an omega. So they wonder if I could become a bit too much for you to handle, considering your situation.” He admits.

“Your pack cares too.” You shrug, and he nods. “I appreciate that. I.. don’t know why I’m so calm now, I think it’s probably some sort of instinct stuff since you’re here-” You say, before you get comfortable under all the blankets again. “-but I feel.. A lot more calm about all of this.”

“Yeah that might just be.. Well, me.” He laughs, watching you get comfortable next to him. “I tend to have that effect on people. Even my own pack.” Jungkook explains, settling down as well now.

There’s a bit of silence between the two of you, a moment Jungkook uses to watch you for a little bit, especially the way you seem to look at his hands with a bit of longing almost. “We should.. Practice for my evaluation.” You mumble, but he just chuckles.

“We got time.” He softly disagrees. “Right now I want to.. Figure out what kind of ‘liking’ you were talking about earlier.” He teases, leaning his head on the backrest of the couch while you whine in complaint, squirming a bit. “Come on, you can tell me! I wanna know.” Jungkook presses, and you huff.

“...it’s probably just.. Your smell or something.” You deny, but he grins impishly.

“Just told you though, it doesn’t work like that.” He laughs. “If you’re not sure yet I get it- but I’d like to know if there’s.. At least some sort of connection that you feel towards me. So I know where I’m at.” The wolf shrugs. “Or rather what I can aim at.”

“Aim?” You wonder.

“In terms of, if it’s okay for me to.. Approach you romantically.” He admits.

“Would you.. Want that?” You ask, and he nods.

“But only if you’re okay with it too.” Jungkook makes sure to let you know. “Right now, I’m not head over heels or anything like that. Just.. Interested. You seem like the kind of girl I’d be happy with.” He admits. “But if you don’t have any interest in me like that, that’s cool too. I’ll simply be your friend then.” He explains to you, and you nod.

“I.. I like you.. Like that. But I don’t want something like.. Right now.” You admit.

“Alright, fair.” He nods. “Wasn’t going to jump you right here and now anyways. Just wanted to know where you’d like to go with me.” He shrugs.

“Is it okay if we like.. Take it slow?” You ask, and he nods.

“Absolutely.” the wolf agrees, and at that, you calm down, visibly so- making him relax as well as he settles down with you, holding you close beneath the numerous blankets on the couch.

Falling asleep with you just a little longer, because you’ve got time, after all.

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

“What’s this all about?” You ask, as the employee closes the door to the room, leaving you alone with a wolf you’re not familiar with.

Jungkook has told you he’d like to ask his pack to help prepare you for both your upcoming evaluation, and for what’s to come in general- and you agreed to let them help you, which brought you into todays situation. Min Yoongi has tagged along with Jungkook to a training center specializing in instinct control and helps young wolves practice around in a safe environment. It also offers some specific physical therapy for elderly that struggle with shifting- and you feel oddly taken care of here, everything looking very inviting, bright and clean.

“Jungkook will be watching from the outside.” Yoongi tells you, nodding towards what appears to be a mirror- but is actually a one-way window.

“Why isn’t he here?” You worry a little, sitting down in the middle of the room like the instructor had explained to you earlier. You’re wearing simple clothing- just a top, comfortable leggings, socks, no shoes. You had to take off all jewellery and accessories outside, just like the wolf sitting in front of you with a good amount of distance.

There’s no furniture inside here. The walls and the floor are padded. Insulated. Scratch-resistant, as the employee had told you with pride.

“Because this won’t be pleasant.” Yoongi says with honesty.

“What’s.. Gonna happen to me?” You ask timidly. You actualy appreciate how honest and upfront Yoongi is- he seems very rough and nonchalant, but you like that he’s not masking his words or emotions.

It’s comforting.

“It’s different for everyone.” He explains. “The only thing you need to keep in mind is that nothing is going to happen to you.” The wolf offers. “You won’t be harmed. You can’t die here. You’re safe.” He tells you, when a short tune plays, signalling an announcement.

“We’ll begin the training now. Please try and stay relaxed.” The instructor says, and you look at Yoongi uneasy, a very faint sound being emitted from a corner before it stops again.

It’s quiet between the two of you. You’re not sure what you’re training for, right now.

Suddenly, you feel weird. Your muscles ache, as if you’ve sat in an odd position all day, bones stiff as you shiver a little. You’re not cold, but your fingers still tingle as if you’ve been holding ice all day- lips becoming dry. “You can move freely, by the way.” Yoongi offers, voice a lot gentler now. “Everyone deals with this differently.”

“Deals with what differently?” You ask, adjusting your legs a little before you arch your back, unable to get rid of that odd unease you have in your limbs.

“Shifting.”

Your eyes snap towards him, and he even cracks a smile for a second, before he adjusts his own position a bit. “You won’t be actually shifting right now, don’t worry.” He reassures you. “But you will feel like it. Or at least, it’ll feel similar.” He offers.

You’re standing up now. Pacing. You can’t stand still.

Whatever it is, it’s making you feel like your clothes are itchy, burning in every spot they touch your skin. You’re trembling too, as if you’re freezing- but you don’t feel cold at all, if anything, it’s the opposite. You run your hands through your hair. For some reason it bothers you, makes you want to pull it out from your scalp.

Tears knock at the backs of your eyes. Why do you feel like crying?

“Why- why do you not.. React at all?” You ask, trying to distract yourself. Yoongi shrugs.

“I’ve been shifting for years. I’m used to it.” He offers. “It’s not like I don’t feel it. I just handle it better.”

You take a deep breath, remembering what he’d told you. You’re fine, you’ll be okay, nothing is going to happen to you.

“Jungkook is probably just as fidgety as you right now.” The alpha chuckles.

“Why?” You wonder, walking around aimlessly before your entire situation gets worse. You don’t know this, but on the other side of the room’s one-way window, you’re very much constantly watched by both Jungkook, and trained staff to make sure you’re alright. Your vitals are being measured.

You’re safe, just like Yoongi said.

Though Jungkook still feels oddly uneasy watching you like that, the way you begin to cry from the sheer discomfort you feel, instincts so clear now as you walk towards a corner to rest your back against it, curling up on yourself with your backside against the wall. He wants to comfort you, help you feel better, but he knows it’s better like this. They won’t put you through the full course today- just a taste, to ease you into things.

You’re doing great already. He feels oddly proud almost.

Yoongi watches you from his spot, looking almost completely unfazed by it all. What he does do however is slowly approach you as you whimper to yourself, curled up into a ball as you try and fight this all on your own. Jungkook watches as the wolf in the room with you sits right in front of you, gaining your attention.

“You’re not alone.” He tells you, making you watch him while your head feels ready to burst open like a balloon. “and it would be the smartest decision to realize that now.”

“...why.” You ask, barely heard.

“Because the help you need is right in front of you.” He says, and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying. So, as you slowly open up a bit more, you let yourself just exist.

Jungkook is right. The only way to face this properly, is to accept it all first and foremost.

And so you let your instincts do their thing, as Yoongi seems to instantly catch onto it, opening his arms to accept you clinging to him. It’s normal omega behavior- the company and affection of packmates ease a lot of pain and anxieties, and you feel it right now, too, as you let him hold you.

It doesn’t magically make this experience easy- but it makes it definitely more manageable.

The second the training is over, you feel immediate relief- something hissing in the corners of the room, and it’s as if you can finally breathe fresh air again, throbbing head finally easing up. You basically melt into a puddle of tired muscle and he’s quick to hold you, surprisingly comforting as he watches the door open to let in Jungkook.

“Hey.” He softly tells you, and you reach out to him- though you stay close go Yoongi as well, somewhat surprised how Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind at all. Maybe because they’re friends? Maybe that’s why there’s no obvious jealousy.? “you did great.” He praises, and you lean back from Yoongi to compose yourself again, wiping your cheeks in embarrassment.

“..that was.. odd.” You mumble, and Jungkook helps you stand up again, both wolves leading you out the room to have one last checkup before you leave again. “so that’s.. somewhat what shifting will feel like?” You ask a nurse, who laughs.

“a little. It’s not quite the same- but the simulation is the best we have to prepare you for it.” She explains, while she checks your vitals. “and considering that you have a pack, you’ll do just fine. The first time is always scary.” She smiles, looking at Jungkook who happily nods, while Yoongi has his back turned towards you.

Back home, by yourself, you let the entire day run through you once more. From the feelings in the room, to the way Yoongi soothed you, up towards Jungkook driving you back home- things are so much different than what you thought wolves would live like. This feels a lot more intertwined and connected than your own family life ever did- why would your mother keep that from you?

Maybe you’ll call her, in the future. To ask her why she took care of you even if she knew what you were. To question why she would even involve herself with a child like you were if she hated wolves so much.

But not today.

And not tomorrow, either.

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

This is embarrassing.

You can’t sleep. You keep waking up, windows open or windows closed, you feel watched, chased, never safe. And the worst is when you actually do end up asleep, you dream of Jungkook, and the pack, and then you wake up and realize you’ve barely slept half an hour even.

Your eyes sting whenever you close them. You feel drained, and it’s not even three in the morning.

Are they still awake too? Probably not. They all have their routines down, their a pack, a family, something you can only really fantasize about. What if you’ll disrupt that peace and quiet they have established for themselves? Sure, Jungkook didn’t seem to mind you clinging to Yoongi yesterday, but what about the rest of his fanily- surely this will just end in disaster.

You sit up in bed. You can’t sleep.

You turn on a documentary on your phone to watch, but it really doesn’t help much to force you into slumber- if anything, the screen just starts to give you a headache, so you stop the video after not even twenty minutes in. This is stupid. You never had issues sleeping- so why now?

You’re only taking half the dosage of your medication that you used to get. And this dose will be cut in half by the end of the month as well, to slowly prepare you for the time when you’ll be off of them entirely.

You already have pamphlets and little books about the changes to come- from your first instincts pushing through, to other.. intimate things, such as how your periods will change, and what to expect from your first heat. It’s a lot to take in, really, and while doing your research these days, you realized just how complex the world of a werewolf really is. From specialized hotels that care for lone wolves during their heats, to other programs helping single packless wolves stay healthy in mind and soul. Weekly social activities, phone counseling, personal health care just for wolves without a pack make you feel oddly comforted.

You’re not alone. That’s the slogan almost all these companies use on their ads.

Maybe you should make an appointment soon. Just to have things figured out- and so that Jungkook doesn’t feel like his pack has to take you in. Sure, You like him, and it’s clear that he likes you too, but is that enough? Can wolves from different packs even be together?

There’s so much you still need to learn. Just thinking about it makes your head spin.

Your phone vibrates with a message. You tap on it, to see the sender- Jungkook- still online.

‘Hey, just wanted to check in if you’re alright.’ Is written, and you reply.

‘Yeah, why do you ask?’ You respond with, and he instantly starts to type on the other end.

‘I couldn’t sleep.’ He sends you. ‘neither could Yoongi, and then I saw you were online half an hour ago’ he continues. ‘so I figured you must be still up’

‘I can’t sleep.’ You admit, and at that, your phone vibrates with an incoming call from him.

“Why didn’t you say so?” He yawns, and you’re a bit confused. “Yoongi said you’ve been up since around one or two AM.” He chuckles.

“How does he know?” You wonder astonished, when the lower voice answers.

“I was working, and saw you online multiple times.” He chuckles. “It’s not rocket science.”

“Oh.” You mumble, realizing that it was actually pretty reasonable. He was probably texting with someone and checked up on you as well- but that doesn’t explain why Jungkook seems to know as well. “But wait, why can’t Jungkook sleep?” You ask.

“Because we’ve bonded more than you did with Yoongi.” He replies. “it’s like.. an instinct you could say. I could sense something off.” He tells you, and you just take it in. All of this is so complex and difficult to understand sometimes.

“Its most likely the stress from yesterday.” Yoongi reassures. “either that, or your instincts are pushing through. You’re an omega- they don’t do well on their own.” He bluntly states, while you hear some clicking from a computer mouse. “did you not tell her she could sleep here as well?”

“What, no I did!” Jungkook defends himself. “I think? Wait, I did tell you, right?” He asks you now, and you think for a second.

“uhm.. I don’t think so?” You answer. “but even so, I wouldn’t want to intrude-“

“Jungkook are you a whelp?” yoongi is heard scolding.

“I forgot!” He defends himself. “hey- okay so, you can really sleep here as well, it’s no bother, believe me.” Jungkook tells you now. “Namjoon was actually wondering why you aren’t here yet. His cousin is an omega too, so he knows how to handle a lot of stuff.” He explains.

“Wouldn’t it be.. awkward?” You ask, hesitating.

“Tripping in public is awkward, yet millions of people do it everyday.” Yoongi answers stoically. “if you want to stay here, stay here. If you don’t, don’t. We wouldn’t be offering it if we wouldn’t be okay with you.” Yoongi explains, and oddly enough, it helps you feel better.

“..is there anything specific I should take along with me?” You start, when Jungkook cuts you off.

“I’ll help you pack your stuff-“ he starts, when something clattering is heard. “what?”

“Jungkook you dog, it’s four in the morning!” Yoongi whines. “You’re going to wake up the whole pack!” He complains, when a door is heard opening. “see? Now Jimin is awake and that means the entire woods know about it!”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!” the new voice argues, before he laughs. “I’m just curious, you’re acting like spies in here.”

“did you- Jimin, you left the door open!” Yoongi complains. “and the stupid kid left his phone here too..” he sighs, while you can’t help but laugh.

“Well, at least she’s having fun.” Jimin giggles along.

“For now. Wait until she finds out Jungkook snores in his sleep.” Yoongi teases.

“Hey, it’s not that bad!” Jungkook complains, making them laugh as their voices fade into the background, the wolf having taken back his phone after having grabbed the car keys. “I’m gonna come over now, and we can either nap first and pack later, or pack first and nap later.” He tells you.

“Its.. thank you.” You tell him.

“No problem.” He answers easily.

“you’re not alone.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #werewolf jungkook

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cat-toess · 8 months

Text

❀ LOVESICK PT.2 ❀

Summary ✄: In which, Lyney finally decides to do something about his massive crush on you with the encouragement of his siblings.

✄ Part one here!: Lovesick part 1

Tags ✄: fluff, friends to lovers, mid-length (sort of) gn!reader (intended, I sincerely apologize if not, please message me if you find any mistakes in terms of this topic! I will do my best to improve my writing :D)

✄ Notes: This was so delayed 💀 And for once in my life my delulu brain had no more delusions to feed my stories with, so I was stuck for a while on the plot... But it turned out good in the end (?) LYNEY IS SUCH A SIMP. AND I'M NEVER LETTING THAT IDEA GO OUT OF MY HEAD

If you want you can listen to any Laufey song while reading this! (That's what I was listening to while creating this-)

P.S: I will be revising this even after this has been published, so if you find any grammatical errors then it might be fixed the next time you check <3 might even add paragraphs- so if you want, make sure to check in regularly!

✄ Ft. Lynette and Freminet's pain and suffering

It’s been precisely a week since the very memorable encounter at the café with Lyney. And honestly Lynette thinks she can’t take another millisecond of her brother's endless rambles about how you ‘gently pulled him up, like he was fragile glass.’ And how ‘you two were about to kiss’

This had been going on for around 7 days, 20 minutes and 15 seconds. A good test of her patience, Lynette thinks to herself.

Now even gentle and ever calm Freminet was staring to run away as soon a Lyney came anywhere from 2 to 5 meters near him. Just so he could avoid getting another earful about how ‘your presence could light up the whole of Fontaine”

It was getting unbearable for both Lynette and Freminet. They both constantly ate dinner in terror, and carefully selected their words, making sure to not make even the slightest gesture that could remind Lyney of your encounter with him.

One time Lynette made the awful mistake of brining up Cafe Lucerene at the dinner table.

Lynette was only half-way through finishing her sentence but Lyney was already talking.

“Oh I could never forget that cafe, it’s the place where me and my darling Y/N met, who knows maybe we’ll get married there!” Lyney dreamily sighs, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

Lynette could only look apologetically to Freminet, who was close to a mental breakdown. And truth be told, Lynette was too. All the (sane) siblings could do was pray that this ramble ended short.

They were sorely mistaken if they thought Lyney’s conversations about you would ever end short.

Lyney ended up filling up 2 notebooks, full of wedding plans. All while he forced Lynette and Freminet to stay and discuss the flowers, the design of the wedding clothes, guests and even the date on which your wedding would take place. (He said February 14th, because what better day to be wed than the day of romance and love?)

“I don’t think I can take all this ranting for much longer” Lynette groans, rubbing her forehead, trying to relive the pounding headache she had from losing too much sleep, due to Lyney keeping her up to vent all his delusions to her. Lucky Freminet, she thought to no one in particular, he was able to avoid Lyney last night. (Not like he was in any better shape though)

“Me too, maybe there’s a solution to this?” Poor Freminet, he looked like a walking corpse. His movements dull and his mouth hanging open, like his soul was going to pop out of it and accend to celestia any minute now.

“Yeah, and some how make Lyney shut up about ‘the love of his life’ for one second? Fat chance” Lynette grumbled.

Freminet stared at his sister, trying to think of someway to solve their problems. All while Lyney angrily stirred a cup of tea.

“Wait, if Lyney likes Y/N then wouldn’t all his ranting stop if he dates them?” Freminet says, deep in thought.

“Huh? Wouldn’t that just increase the topics he can use to torment us with?” Lynette questions, finishing her tea in one violent gulp.

“Well, maybe if they started dating, he would focus on complimenting them directly instead of picking us as his unfortunate victims? It’s worth a shot right?”

“I suppose… though the chance of them reciprocating his feelings are close to none, at least he talks to them often…” Lynette scoffs as she adds a sugar cube to her custom design deep turquoise tea cup.

“Right, we should try to convince him to ask Y/N on a date at dinner today. Maybe that’ll give us enough time to get some rest…” Freminet mumbles rubbing his nose bridge.

Poor Y/N, thought Lynette. Her spine exploding with shivers the moment she thought about what you would have to deal with if you got together with that brother of hers.

Oh well, maybe you’d like it?

——

It was dinner, the atmosphere was stiff and tense. Like someone had to say something (which was true) The only thing that could be heard was the small clinks of cutlery on plates.

Freminet nods at Lynette to signal the start of their plan. Lynette gives a small thumbs up to Freimiet as he gets ready to confront his older brother to hopefully stop the endless rambling.

”So Lyney, we wanted to talk about Y/N-“ Freminet nervously says.

“Oh? Why didn’t you say so earlier? I caught a glimpse of them today in the opera house, and they were as stunning as ever-“ If he wasn’t cut off by Lynette, who knows how long he would have went on for?

“Oh for crying out loud Lyney! We’re here to talk about when you’re going to ask them out!” Lynette yells out while violently stabbing the meat steak on her plate. Her final string of sanity snapping. Her usually tranquil self no where to be seen. Perhaps it was because the hours of lost sleep.

“What Lynette means to say, is that we encourage you to ask them out.” Freminet corrects while coughing into his fist. Praying that the rest of their plan would go smoothly.

“Huh? Really? You think they’ll say yes?” Lyney says, voice barely above a whisper. The mere thought of you and him being an item makes his heart rapidly beat against his ribcage, his hands fidgeting and mind restless.

Now if usually if Lynette saw her brother in a state like this, then new blackmail material would be collected. No questions asked.

But under these circumstances Lynette couldn’t care less about black mail. Not with her sanity (and Freminet’s) on the line.

“Then if I may ask , could you two help me to-“ Lyney says

“No!” Freminet shouts, jumping up from his seat. Lyney surprised to see his brother like this quirks a brow at him, as if to silently ask if anything was wrong.

“I mean, we think that it would be better if you planned it on your own. That way it’ll be more heartfelt because you did it yourself, right Lynette?” He Hurriedly says as Lynette furiously shakes her head up and down.

“I suppose so…thank you for always supporting me Lynette, Fremi, I don’t know what I would do without you two.” (I’m convinced that Lyney calls Freminet “Fremi” Fight me) Lyney beamed as he started to clean up the dishes and put them into the sink (do they have sinks in Fontaine? ) “Well I’m going to head up first and plan the date, after all, it has to be absolutely perfect!” Lyney gushed as he darted up the stairs, but then he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh I forgot to say but, I’ll leave the dishes to you Lynette!” He called, as he started running up the stairs again.

“But it’s your turn to wash the dishes…” Lynette voice dies down in the middle as she realizes her brother is already gone, probably blushing and kicking his feet while planning whatever strange plan he was going to use to wiggle into your heart. Though Lynette doubted he could, not with that face. With a heavy sigh she goes to the kitchen to do the dishes, wishing that the dishes would magically be already be done by the time she arrived to the sink. No such luck.

If he pulled this sort of stunt again, Lynette was more than happy to tell you that her brother had two moles and a scar on his left butt cheek that resembled a smiley face.

——

Lyney had been thinking about ways to ask you out all night. The result? A bunch of crumbled pieces of paper overflowing his rooms trash can and a pair of heavy dark circles under his eyes.

Inviting you to a romantic candle lit dinner and make it rain red roses? “No, too corny” he thinks as he shakes his head. Maybe you’d like it if he simply sent you a letter with a confession in it? No that was too basic, at least for Lyney’s liking.

A groan escapes his lips, as he scratches out the possibility of the other ideas being successful.

He tries to recall every time you’ve talked to each other. But all he can remember was you describing a dream where you went on a date with some mystery guy in a field of marcotte’s on top of a cliff where you could clearly see the sea. He also vividly recalls you saying how much you would love to go on a date like that…

Wait! He could use that dream!

He silently scolds himself in his mind, wondering how he hand’t thought of this before.

Well if this didn’t work he’ll always have plan 235XI-2A to back him up!

(Or his third personal favorite, 682BS-5J)

———

Now all he had to do was ask you out. He was deep in thought, trying to come up with a place you might be. He’s checked the Opera house and the shopping district. Where else could you possibly be?

Until suddenly he feels a soft tap on his shoulder.

“Gha!” Lyney screeches, jumping back, almost like a surprised cat. (You know, when the cats suddenly see a cucumber behind them while they’re eating and just like 2 meters.)

“Sorry, did I give you a scare?” You chuckle as you hold your hand to your mouth, desperately trying to suppress the laugh in your throat.

The magician looks composed now on the outside but really, he’s convinced that his heart is beating at a 100 miles per hour.

“Well, if it isn’t the ever charming Y/N” he tries to play it off cool, and succeeds but if you listen closely enough you could hear the slight waver in his voice.

“Oh drop the compliments, we’re close enough to address each other casually right?” You dramatically sight, feigning hurt as you put your hand up to your forehead. Like a lead actor about to faint.

“But anyway, what brings you here?” You say switching your tone to a firmer one.

“I actually came here to find you.” He says, taking in a deep breath to hopefully calm his nerves.

“Really? Whatever did I do to deserve the audience of the great magician of Fontaine.” You joke, clapping your hands together. “Is it Lynette? Did she want more tea-“

“Iacctuallywantedtoaskyouonadate-“ His rushed words go through your left ear and fall right through your right ear.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Lyney slow down. I couldn’t grasp a single word you just said.” You tell him, his earlier sentence sounding more like a cursed language more than anything.

You notice that his face is flushed in a deep shade of crimson out of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, what I meant to say is, I was wondering if you were free this afternoon?” He says coughing into his fist, finally mustering up the courage to say something to cover up his mistake.

Now it’s your turn to get flustered, because as soon as he says that you’re getting butterflies in your stomach. Your mind blanks out for a second, all rational thoughts exiting your brain. The only thing you can hear at the moment is the loud thumping of your heart.

You somehow get a response out of your mouth, mirraculaously you didn’t stumble over your words!

“Sure, dose 4 sound good to you?” You inquire, pulling out your pocket sized planner, double checking if you had any other plans for the evening.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll pick you up at your house?” Lyney says timidly. Thanking all of the gods above and their grandmothers that you had accepted his date offer.

“Mhm, I’m all right with that. See you then I guess?” You say as you start to head back, craining your neck backwards a little to give a small wave to Lyney.

“Yeah.” Lyney says, standing there and waving at you like a fool. Slightly dazed still processing the fact that his long time crush, the person that he was hopelessly in love with was going on a date with him in 3 hours.

———

The sun was setting, and you were in your room, waiting for a certain blonde to knock on your door. The ticking of your clock seems to be mocking your eagerness.

It had just turned 4, and as if right on cue you hear a soft know on your brich door.

Practically sprinting towards the door, you skid through the halls of your home and swing the door open.

Lyney was, dressed in a plain ruffled dress shirt, paired with a harness made of black leather. His pants of course, were black too, simple with no designs in it. Topped off with simple black laced boots. It was weird to see him without his signature hat. Of course, it goes without saying Lyney looked good in his usual magician attire, but change is always welcome.

“Ready to go?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, It’s just that seeing you without your hat is a little odd, but nice odd. You know?” You muse, trailing your eyes over his figure.

In response to that Lyney lets out a merry chuckle.

“Before we go, can you put this blindfold on?” He asks, holding up a blindfold.

You look at the magician suspiciously and quirk a brow at him. “You’re not going to kidnap me right?” Slightly nervous about the whole surprise thing.

“Of course not! I just want to keep the inaction a surprise.” He says giving you a little comforting pat on the shoulder.

“Well, I suppose it’s all right. But I’m running away at the first sign of danger okay?” You sigh, reluctantly letting Lyney’s slender fingers tie the black silky blindfold over your eyes.

“No peaking, okay?” He purrs as he tugs on your arm.

——

After a while of walking and talking Lyney halts to a stop.

“We’re here.” He hums as he slowly unties the blindfold.

It takes you a moment to adjust to your surroundings, since you had been blindfolded for like, what? 6 minutes?

But as soon as your surroundings come into focus, the scene in front of you literally steals your breathe away.

“You did all this for me” You gasp, looking around the venue which Lyney had guided you too. “Ta-da.” He sheepishly says, while softly scratching the back of his head. You two were in a felid of marcotte’s, the grass sways with every soft caress of the wind. Soon you noticed the meadow was located on a cliff, and below was the deep and ever beautiful ocean of Fontaine. The tidalga’s littered benethe made the ocean’s surface appear as if thousands of blue lights were iluminating the area.

The wind was strong but not too strong, the mixed scent of the salty sea and the sweet aroma of the marcotte flowers smelled heavenly. You looked up to the Colbat blue sky. You could clearly see the stars, each star shining with a brilliant yellow. Under the delicate light of the moonlight, Lyney though you never looked more dreamy. For a moment you stood their in disbelief, it was as if this date was pulled straight from your dreams. The dream that you had told Lyney about. It was perfect.

“I don’t even know what to say… It’s remarkable Lyney. I can’t believe that you remember me talking about my dream” You gush, as you feel the uncontrollable smile etching itself on your lips.

“What’s a magician without his fair share of surprises?” Lyney chuckles as he hops over to you.

A comfortable silence envelopes the two of you. The waves splashing quietly in the background.

“You know, I actually invited you here to confess something to you…” Lyney bashfully says, his body restless as he prays to the heavens that this would go well.

“Really? What is it” You say, as you tilt your head to the side.

Why was his voice stuck in his throat? What was he doing? He practiced his lines millions if not billions of times in front of the mirror, so why couldn’t he do it now?

You stare at him with a perplexed expression while leaning forward. As if you were eager to hear his confession.

Oh screw the script, this magician’s improvising.

“When I first met you, I was enamored by your laugh, your voice and no matter how much I thought on how to confess to you, no words could come close to describing how I truly feel for you.” Lyney paused for a moment to put together his thoughts for one moment. Trying to think of a worthy phrase to describe his undying adoration for you. He takes a deep breath in as he continues “If I had a flower for every time I had thought of you, I would only have one. Because not once have I stopped thinking about you since the day we met. I understand if you don’t reciprocate my feelings, yet my mind keeps lingering back to the thoughts of you and me together.” The words from his mouth spill over like a waterfall, genuine and poetic language flying towards you left and right.

“So, Y/N L/N, will you please accept my feelings?” He imagined the confession to be smooth and romantic, he promised himself to be calm and cool. Yet, here he was, face flushed and breathing irregular. Eagerly waiting for an answer. He curses himself for looking like an absolute idiot around you.

In reality, it’s only been a few seconds, but to Lyney it felt like an eternity. His pupils flying on ever direction, his plans already clammy from the anxiety.

“I would be delighted to” You beam, taking his hand in yours.

“Really?” He says, eyes practically turning into stars, you could swear that they turned all glittery for one second.

“Yes really” You smile, laughing at the usually suave and confident magician's expression. An expression you’ll probably remember for the rest of your life.

You could audibly hear the loud sigh of relief he let out when you confirmed your answer.

The two of you continue to stare at each other for a good minute. Then all of a sudden Lyney lets out a little snort. Then you chuckle a little. Before you know it, the meadow is filled with lively laughter. The two of you chasing each other over the rolling green grass, like a pair of idiots. Twirling each other around like one would in a royal ball. Giggles and snickers flowing through the surrounding area.

Even better, the two of you acted out multiple of your favorite scenes in operas. One of them being the all-time famous Titanic pose (pretend titanic exists for the sake of my heart) Only problem being you nearly falling off the edge of the cliff and letting out a blood-curdling scream that sent the birds in the area desperately flapping their wings to find someplace that was maybe… less chaotic.

Time flies when you’re with someone you like they say, turns out that old saying is true. Because by the time you both knew it, it was already 10PM

Exhausted, you both flop on the grass, face up to the shimmering stars. Intertwining fingers together both of you deicide to rest a little.

“You know, you remind me of the moon.” Lyney suddenly says as he points to the glowing moon, breaking the silence.

“Mhm, why is that?” You question, looking at Lyney with curious eyes.

“If you're the moon, then I’ll gladly be your tide, for I will forever flow under your command. Following your ever wish and will. For you are my purpose, are you not?” Lyney hums, you hate how he can say something so… romantic (?) so casually.

“You’re so corny.” You sarcastically sigh, rolling your eyes.

“But you love this corny guy right?”

How could you say no to that face?

———

Now by the time the cackling had settled down, the suns light was long gone and instead a pitch black darkness had replaced it.

So being the gentleman Lyney is, he offered to walk you home.

The two of you started talking about

“Ah, we’re here now.” You say, a small amount of sadness laced in your voice. "Well I have to go now, have a safe trip back home." You sigh disappointed that the date had already ended.

“Oh! Before I forget.. here.” Lyney magically makes a marcotte flower appear in his hands with a snap of his fingers.

“Think of it like a souvenir of our first date.” He giggled, twirling his hair. He seems somehow happier then you, even though you’re the one receiving the flower (?)

Well that’s Lyney for you, I guess.

“Lyney, is this from the field that we went to? “ You say happily, spinning the vermilion and yellow colored flower between your fingers.

“Maybe.” He says while throwing in a playful wink.

You slowly open your door and just as about you’re about to go inside you look back.

“I’ll be looking forward to our next date pretty boy.” You say pulling him in for a little peck on the cheek. (Y/N mega rizzler arc coming soon?!)

Just a moment ago you were the one being all shy, now Lyney’s here too stunned to speak. The combination of your lips on his cheek and that pet name? He swears you’ll be the death of him one day.

You give him a little wave, before closing the door behind you with a click.

Now if it were any normal person, they would just go home and celebrate their successful date. Celebrate the fact that they didn’t get brutally rejected.

But no, this is Lyney.

He ended up standing in front of your door for 15 minutes, just stroking the place where you had kissed him.

He makes a mental note to put a bag over his cheek for the next few days.

Call him unhygienic but hey, love can make one blind right?

“Hey mom, look! There’s a guy standing in front of Y/N’s house!” A child passing by shouts, pointing at Lyney.

“Shhh! Don’t look! We’ll report it to the melusines later…” The mother whispers as she ushers her son away from Lyney.

Yeah, he should probably head home soon before anyone else mistakes him for a creepy stalker.

——

Lyney walks home with a dopey little grin on his face, he opens the door to his house and swings the door open. Kicking his shoes off, he hurriedly runs to the living room where his siblings were most likely having dinner, feet practically skidding to a halt when he reaches to his destination.

“Hey guess what-“ Lyney says his voice bubbling with excitement to tell his siblings about the successful confession (that he had spent days planning)

“I’m sorry” Lynette says without looking up from her food.

“What?” Lyney stands still for a few seconds as he tilts his head owlishly.

“They rejected you right?” Lynette says as she takes a bite out of her mashed potatoes.

“Uh no?” Lyney says visibly confused.

“See I told you, that’s 50,000 mora Lynette.” Freminet sighs, standing up from the dinner table and trudging away to his room.

“Damn it… I was so sure…” Lynette mutters as her cat tail droops down. Standing up and obviously looking disappointed, she puts her dishes away, walking back up stairs.

“Wait? Lynnette? Fremi? 50,000 mora? Your eldest demands an explanation! Hey answer me!” Lyney says as he franticly looks around, only to be met with silence…

That is until Lynette pops her head from the stair case with a devilish expression her face.

“I’ll leave the dishes to you Lyney” She snickers as she hurries away,leaving Lyney to himself grumbling about how “he isn’t respected enough in this household” and that “it was Lynettes turn to do the dishes” But he finds himself a blushing mess all over again when he recalls the events of tonight.

Yeah, you probably shouldn’t tell him that you made the marcotte he gave you into a dry flower. Or else he might combust…

❀ a/n: GARRHHHH, this took so long. I apologize for the wait! Thank you so much for your support in part 1! I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoyed part 1! Heads up to those who want to request anything please check my navigation to find my requests page!

Some of my other posts with Lyney...

❁ Lyney Hcs

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