i seen you did a request so i as wondering can i request something? đĽš
jk x reader where the reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend and she gets her lick back đ love your stories!
I'm sure I can do something quick đ
Lick Back
Realizing that your boyfriend has become a completely different person & being malicious towards you could only mean that heâs being nice to someone else.
Word Count:4.298
Warning: dry humping, kissing, neck kissing/sucking, dirty talking, nipple pinching, praising, affair/cheating, oral sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, slight voyeurism, teasing/taunting, squirting,
Your mother always told you that if your dog started barking at you that it only meant that someone else was feeding it. A dog would never bite the hand that feeds them.
Your mother wasnât talking about an actual dog.
However, you had a dog - in a way - and recently, it began doing just that. It became annoyed with you for every little thing youâve done. Itâs tone changed completely when speaking with you; always rushed and not attentive. It started to be mean for no reason, nearly foaming at the mouth when you questioned their sudden change of actions - or questioned it at all. It wanted to be outside longer than usually and would be upset when called back home.
The dog being your boyfriend of nearly 5 years. You noticed the shift a year ago, but you ignored your gut feeling of something being terribly wrong - but now, you are numb and though it hurts in a way, you are also relieved. The love that was one there in your relationship appeared to expire without you realizing it - or maybe you had not wished to accept it.
And yet, here you are in a home the both of you share. He is out, not bothering to tell you just where heâs at - and you donât ask. You stopped asking a year ago when you grew accustomed to sleeping alone.
But even if the love for your dog is no longer there - and if it was, it was slowly drifting away - that didnât mean the anger wasnât. The fact that you allowed the dog to stay with you because you loved him, fed said dog his favorite meals and showered him with love and affections. They were supposed to be loyal - but atlas, someone else had gained its love while you were left in the dark.
But there was someone else who liked what the dog had, you noticed. Someone who appreciated the meals you cooked and ate them with ease, who would come when you called them. They were loyal - even more than your own dog - and it just happened to be the dogs friend.
Jeon Jungkook is an attractive man and he knew it. It showed in the way he struts, shoulders lax and head held high. He almost wore a smirk, but never a cocky one. Jeon Jungkook could be an asshole - a complete fuckboy. He could turn his nose at anyone because he had it like that - but he didnât.
Jeon Jungkook was a kind individual. He was caring - especially to the ones he was close with. You recall many times when youâd had to call him because your boyfriend had gotten so drunk that youâd need a man's help - and Jungkook was always that man.
 And even though Jungkook was a friend of your boyfriend, he was kind to you, as well. He changed your tires on numerous occasions, making sure to give you the speech that âYou need to make sure you keep up with your car, Y/N.â or the âYour oil and tire lights are on, how do you even drive this still?â he had good intentions.
âThis is so good!â Jungkook says, mouth full of the pork belly. He licks his lips to savor the flavor. Jungkook always wore a disgusted face when something was amazing in taste and even now, his eyebrows are knit together in confusion and he appears utterly disgusted - that was a good sign.
âIâm glad you enjoy it.â you smile at him, washing the dishes youâve made when cooking.Â
âI told you I donât mind washing the dishes, Y/N.â Jungkook says, glancing upwards at you. âItâs the least I can do since you cooked.â
You sigh, smile never ceasing. âItâs alright. Youâre a guest after all.â
Your dog wasnât home and you donât know when he will be - nor did you truly care. His friend was nicer, more entertaining, as well. He ate your cooking as if it was fine dining, and appreciated it, too. He was kind and good at conversation - he was caring, far more than your dog.Â
âI enjoy cooking for you, Jungkook. You deserve it the most.â you turn off the water and begin to dry your hands. Your eyes meet his and for a moment, youâre pondering if heâs thinking about your words the way you intend him to.Â
âThank you.â Jungkook grins, tiny dimples at the side of his cheek forming.Â
You lean against the island that he sits at, quiet and content that heâs eating the food youâve made for him. It wouldnât be the first time you cooked for Jungkook - you recall the first time without your dog being present was a year prior. You had cooked and waited for his return and was left with nothing. It was hours after when you heard him return - this time not alone or coherent. Jungkook had slung the man onto the couch annoyed with just how drunk he had become and when you emerged - in nothing but a nightgown - he had apologized profusely.Â
âI cooked.â you had sighed, disappointed but not the least bit surprised by the actions of your dog. âDo you want a plate?â
It has become a tradition now. Youâd cook for Jungkook often and each time, he'd come and enjoy what youâve made him - whatever you made him.Â
Jungkook was no fool, as well. He knows just how independent youâve become, especially within the last year. He knows that you know that he knows of your boyfriend's loyalty - or lack of - but you never question him about it, even when he prepares himself to tell you the truth if you had.Â
Over time, Jungkook noticed that you donât seem to care about your boyfriend's whereabouts - and around that time, he picks up on just how you begin to dress when around him. It was subtle at first, sure. You showed more skin - more legs with your shorts, more shoulders. He notes that the clothes you wore were tighter but relaxed seeing as you were in the comfort of your own home. Youâd wear tanktops that showed your breast with shorts that made your thighs highly appealing for his eyes. Overtime, you ditched the bra and it became harder for him to not gawk at the way your breast looked in them.
Jungkook doesnât want to assume anything - you were so far removed from your boyfriend that you didnât care anymore. One drunken wine night when the man was away on a âbusiness tripâ, you had told Jungkook that you hadnât had sex with him in close to a year now - his own drunken response was that if he was your boyfriend, he would fuck you any chance heâd get.
Jungkook isnât sure if you remember that night and neither of you brought it up after.
âYou seem tense.â Jungkook is behind you now - when he has gotten up from his seat, you are unaware, consumed by your own thoughts. âIs everything alright?â
You slowly nod your head, turning it slightly to get a glimpse of him.Â
Jungkook snorts. âYour shoulders are tense.â he says, gentle hands placing themselves on your shoulders. âIs everything alright with work? The car?â
âYes, Jungkook. Iâm fine.â you giggled. âYou worry too much.â
Jungkookâs fingers begin to rub at your shoulders, applying pressure to them. You swallow, your hands gripping the edge of the sink.
âYou should relax, Y/N. Youâre always doing something and never truly giving yourself a break.â
Jungkookâs hand reaches your neck. They run up slowly, goosebumps left behind in its trail. Your eyes flutter close at how good it felt to be massaged.
âDoes it feel good?â
Thereâs a drop in Jungkookâs voice - itâs deeper. He whispers it, as if only speaking directly to you, even if you and he are already alone in the home.
âYes.â you murmur back, head falling back against his chest just as he reaches the front of your neck. A tattooed hand wraps around it, thumb caressing your skin in circular motions.Â
âIâm glad.â Jungkook is subtle when he presses himself against you - so gentle that you donât notice it at first. You're completely against his body, in blissful relaxation. âYou deserve to be taken care of, too.â
Even now, you dressed so comfortably - shorts stopping high above your thighs and a shirt that sculptures your breast so lovingly that he had a difficult time not watching the way they bounced as you walked around the kitchen preparing him the meal.
âI donât really have anyone to do that.â you whisper back, a slight moan creeping past your parted lips.
âI can take care of youâŚunless you object.â
You nod your head and instantly, his free hand roams down to grip your clothed breast. He can feel just how hard your nipple was.
You hiss, back slightly arching.
Jungkook engulfs both breasts in the palm of his hands and begins to rub, your light moans enticing him to continue. He can feel your nipples harden in his grasp and he himself begins to hiss lowly to himself on how heavenly they felt in his hands.Â
Thereâs no doubt that the two of you wanted this for far too long by the way you completely allow him to touch you without any resistance. He presses himself against you needily, face in your neck as his hands continue to grip and pull at your breast.
âYou smell nice.â Jungkook grumbles in your neck, nose inhaling your sweet scent; heâs sure he sounds like a creep, but he wasnât going to hold himself back . Not now heâs certain you want him just as much as he does you. âI like this scent on you the most. This and the jasmine one.â
You swallow, heat rushing through your body at his words. Jungkook had memorized the perfumeâs youâd wear due to the countless times heâd be around you. He recalls the time he even had to help his friend pick out a gift for you on an anniversary and how upset he had been when he chose the cheapest scent he could find - and one youâd never wear. Jungkook had swamped them out and chose the very scent you wore now and youâre none the wiser.
Your arms reach behind you to cup Jungkookâs head just as you feel his teeth sink into the nape of your neck. Heâs being more rough; dominant. You donât remember when the last time a man has touched you with such possessiveness - a sex-toy could only do so much.
âSuch pretty skin,â Jungkookâs tongue pokes out of his mouth to lick onto your neck. âjust want to mark it all up.â
âThen do it.â you respond. If you and him were going to do this, mind as well go all out. Your dog often comes home smelling like sickly sweet fruit perfume and cigarettes at times - you wanted Jungkookâs scent all over you.Â
Jungkook does, biting your skin harshly and then suckling on it until your neck is perfectly marked up. Heâs then quick to turn you around to finally face him, the both of you now locking eyes.Â
âAre you upset?â Jungkook questions, eyes dark with lust but a bit concerned.
âWith you?â you ask, raising a brow. âNever.âÂ
âNot with me. In general.â Jungkook murmurs, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently traces your lips. âIâm sure you knowâŚwhat he does.â
You nod your head, leaning into Jungkookâs touch.Â
âDonât want you to regret or feel bad afterwards.â
âAre you?â you ponder aloud.
 You were so far removed from your boyfriend that you could care less about what he thought. In your mind, he was nothing but a roommate now; the two of you not even sharing a bed.Â
Jungkook, however, was your boyfriend's friend and maybe he would feel remorseful.
âI told you that Iâd never stop fucking you if given the chance.â Jungkook snorts, thumb tapping your lip.Â
âThen donât stop.â you murmur, tongue poking out to wrap poke his tongue. âI havenât been fucked good in so long.â
Jungkook hisses, his hand now gripping your cheek. He shakes his head. âHe told me what you like.â he confesses, unsure if you were willing to go down that route with him.Â
âHe was never really into anything.â you shrug your shoulders - this is why you ended up with a vibrator and a dildo; and you were currently looking into a vibrating dildo, how sad your life has become.Â
Jungkook is aware of his friend's lack of foreplay - he was only ever interested in his own pleasure. Jungkook, however, didnât mind pleasuring you until you were begging him to stop - but maybe he was just a bad person to think about his friend's girlfriend riding his face until she came.
Then again, you were being cheated on by said friend so maybe this was just his karma; it wasnât like you were a bad person and deserve such treatment.
âI want to eat you out.â Jungkook declares suddenly that it catches you off guard completely. âWhy do you look scared?â
âJust shocked.â you say, body growing even hotter. âWasnât expecting you to say that.â
ââI want you to ride my tongue until youâre squirting all over meâ is what I truly wanted to say.â Jungkook deadpans and blinks. âBut I didnât want to scare you away.â
You gulp, eyes widening and thighs clenching.Â
âAnd by the way youâre rubbing your thighs together, it didnât scare you.â Jungkook smirks and instantly, he presses his lips against you. Itâs a deep kiss that catches you by surprise, but youâd be lying if you said you didnât crave more.Â
âI can kiss you, right?â Jungkook says against your lips - maybe he shouldâve asked first. âI know kissing is more intimate-â
You shut him up by kissing him, arms wrapping around his neck to assure that he doesnât get too far away from you.Â
Kissing Jungkook came naturally - as if the two of you had done it before. He pries your mouth open and allows his tongue to dance around yours, all the way he holds onto your hips.Â
âBed,â you kiss his lips again. âroom.â
Jungkook follows behind you, unable to keep his hands off of your body as you lead him to your bedroom. He doesnât even bother to close the door before heâs already tugging at your clothes.
Your shirt is the first to go, breast pooling out that Jungkook cannot focus on anything else but them. He dives into them, your back hitting your mattress just as he begins to suckle on your left nipple, his thumb and index finger pinching the right.
The noises Jungkook made were just as filthy, wet sucking and groans echoing off of your walls. How long he had craved to see your bare breast - they were always teasing him when he was around. Bouncing whenever you move, nipples always erect for his view.
âSo pretty.â Jungkook brings the right nipple into his mouth, showing the same amount of needy lust and love to it as the left. His hand squeezes your left breast in the palm of his hand, the pain shooting pleasure right to your core. âI can suck on them all night. I donât know why he doesnât.â
Now, Jungkook brings both nipples into his mouth, needily needing to taste you. He has a crazed look in his eyes that only causes you to squirm beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist to feel him.
âYou can suck on them whenever you want.â
Jungkook grunts, teeth grazing against your nipples as they pop from his wet mouth. âDonât tempt me, Y/N. Youâll never be able to get rid of me.â
You were positive you didnât want Jungkook to leave.Â
âI want you naked right now. I wanna see just what that idiot has for me right now.â
There wasnât much Jungkook had to do to get you naked - in seconds, he had helped you kick off your shorts along with your panties, needy pussy on display for him.
âNeed you on my tongue now.â Jungkook hisses, flipping you and him so he is beneath you now. Your pussy is so close to his face that it causes you to yelp in slight humiliation.
âI-I wasnât really prepared to do this, i-I-â
âY/N,â Jungkook calls, tone dismissive. âIâm a man. Just fuck yourself against my tongue.â
So you do - and Jungkookâs hands only make you do more. His hands slap your thigh to kick up the pace, his eyes boring into your face as it contorts with pleasure. Your hips just as you grind against his tongue, hands gripping your breast.
Jungkookâs eyes never leave your face. He enjoys watching the stress leave your body as you pleasure yourself, it tells him that this is something you truly needed. His hands begin to rub along your hips, encouraging you to continue until they slide down to your ass. He cups them, his own head swaying side to side to further stimulate your needy clit.
âS-S-Shit!â your body leans back, hands planting against his thighs as he devours your cunt as if it was his last meal. âI-Iâm gonna cumâŚyou gotta move.â
That was the last thing Jungkook was going to do - not even as your hands try to pry him away from your pussy, he doesnât. He continues to suckle onto your clit until youâre visibly shaking above him, but even then he was determined; fully committed to having you cum hard on his tongue.Â
Your legs begin to quiver and Jungkook soon was going to get what he was looking for - you cum. He licks the arousal up, slurping and suckling loudly as your moans mewl out of your mouth.
âI could eat you all day.â Jungkook speaks beneath you - and you knew he was serious.Â
You did the wrong thing by looking at him. His mouth and chin was fully coated in you and just the sight causes you to cum even harder - the hardest you have ever had in your life; right onto his tongue like he wanted.Â
You fall back against the bed with a tired sigh, breathing hitching.Â
Jeon Jungkook was a dangerous man. No wonder the universe gave you your dog - you couldnât handle a real man such as Jungkook, surely.Â
âCan I fuck you?â Jungkook asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. âUnless youâre tired then-â
âI want you to cum in me.â
Jungkook coughs, his cock jumping in his pants. âI-IâŚreally?â
âIf youâre going to fuck me, you mind as well go all out.â you pant, widening your legs. âI donât want you to hold back, either.â
You were going to be the death of him - but if this was what is going to kill him, then heâll be content.Â
âFuck.â Jungkook is in a hurry to remove his clothing, scattering it all around the room without a care. âFuck youâre so perfect. I would treat you so well, Y/N. Fuck I hate him.â
Jungkookâs words causes you to giggle at the circumstances. He hated your boyfriend - his friend - for allowing you to fall into the arms of another man - him. Itâs all comical, truly.Â
âI would fuck you all day if youâd let me. Come home every night and fill you with my cum. How are you not pregnant yet?â
Jungkookâs babbling to himself, even if you could hear it. Itâs questions he has asked himself time and time again - wondering why his friend would rather sleep with other girls when he had someone like you at home. You cooked every day and assured the home stayed just right. He would have put a baby in you - and of course married you; but this wasnât about him now, was it?
Jungkook positions himself at your center and swallows. Youâre clenching, ready to be stuffed.Â
âI bet youâd like to put a baby in me.â you tease, hips slightly wiggling for him to enter you. âWhy donât you?â
Jungkook growls. âDonât tempt me with a good time, Y/N. You donât know how many times I imagined you in my home.â
Maybe Jeon Jungkook was a bad friend for imagining said friend's girlfriend in his home cooking for him - or in his bed breeding her. BUT he had since stepped out on the relationship so karma would have to skip him, right? If anything, you being with him would be doing both of you a favor - you wouldnât be cheated on and he would dote on you every chance he had.
Jungkook begins to enter you, shuddering at the tightness of your pussy. It engulfs him completely, as if shoving him in with whatever powers it held.Â
Shit.
Instantly, Jungkook begins to pound into you - you casted a spell, surely. Whatever you put in the food had caused him to be highly consumed by you entirely. Maybe a baby would be nice, right?
You werenât expecting Jungkook to get right into it - neither were you against it. He holds your legs apart in a tight hold, cock pounding into you so heavenly that even you thought about giving the man what he has been imagining.
âFuck,â Jungkook hisses when his eyes catch the white, creamy ring around his cock. âyou havenât been fucked good in so long. Youâre milking my cock already.â
âMaybe if you werenât such a pussy before you couldâve been fucking me.â you needed Jungkook to fuck you harder if possible. Making him mad and taunting him was an amazing way to start.Â
Jungkookâs eyes are furious, lust and anger swirling in them. âMaybe if you wouldâve asked me to fuck you I would have.â he spits back, his thrust quickening. âYou always looked so desperate, too.â
âI was.â your hand slap against his bare chest, but it doesnât cause him to stop - no, if anything it makes him fuck into you even deeper at your retaliation. âYou were desperate to fuck me, too.â you moaned when he hit that sweet spot that has never been touched before. âLike a little teenage boy.â
Neither of you notice the footsteps coming closer to the bedroom, far too entangled with one another's pleasure.Â
âI know when a bitch needs to be stuffed. Shouldâve filled you with my cum years ago.â Jungkook flips you onto your stomach. He yanks your hair back so your back is perfectly arched - and then he takes you just as hard as before. âBut tonight will be the night that I do what we both want, huh?â
âFuck, youâre so deep.â your eyes snap shut, stomach forming knots. Your breast bounces in the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.
One hand in your hair while the other begins to play with your wet clit. Jungkook buries his head at the side of your neck, lips against your ear.
âYouâre coming home with me tonight, Y/N. Iâm going to breed you here, then youâre leaving with me.â Itâs the sex and lust talking that's causing him to be so demanding and possessive, but you and him both go along with it. When the high was down, then maybe the two of you could talk with sense.
But as of right now - he was determined to put a baby in you without thinking of any consequences and stupidly, so were you.
âYouâre gonna leave him right?â Jungkook asks, yanking your hair harder as his hips jut into you. âYouâre gonna give me that baby you want me to put in you so bad and youâre gonna leave that sad excuse of a man.â
Your pussy clenches around him and your eyes manage to open. Youâre shocked to see him at the door, eyes wide and watching his friend fuck you into oblivion all the while bad mouthing him.
âY-Yes!â your juices leak down your thigh, overstimulated due to Jungkookâs fucking and aggressive rubbing along to your swollen clit. âWant your baby.â
You donât break eye contact with the man - itâs evident that heâs shocked, but he cannot be angered. Not with you, at least, maybe with his friend.Â
âHe could never fuck me like you. Never give me a baby.â
Now you were purposely taunting him, upset that this is when he decides to come home - but a bit glad that he gets to witness the end of an already crumbled relationship. You wonder how he feels witnessing his friend fuck you better than he ever could; with more passion.
You cum around Jungkookâs cock, juices leaking out of you and onto your bed and Jungkook isnât far behind you. His thrust began to grow sloppy. He leans away from your neck, eyes glancing up at the figure watching them - the same figure of his former friend; one who had not spoken to him in months unbeknownst to you.Â
The friendship had ended months prior when Jungkook had suggested that he treat you better, in which he responded angrily that if he wanted you to be treated good so bad that he should have you, declaring that he would have nothing but his sloppy seconds. Never truly imagining that he would witness it happen before his eyes - he was just angry and drunk at the time when he spoke so harshly of you.
Jungkook cums inside of you, so deep and so much. His eyes never leave the shocked ones of his former friend at the door as the both of you allow the high to die down. âYouâre coming home with me tonight.â he says, not asking but demanding.
You nod your head, eyes leaving that of your former boyfriend and they close as his (former) friend gently lays you down onto your bed.
2K notes
¡
View notes
In Between
Description: of course youâd come to them if your boyfriend wasnât treating you right. They were your best friends after all. You werenât expecting them to take advantage of the situation though.
Tags: minors dni, smut, oral (female receiving), edging, dubcon (better safe than sorry), if I missed any please let me know đ
(A/N: Omg Iâm finally just gonna put it out Iâve been writing this on and off for so long lmao still not edited though cuz fuck the grammar police hahaha I hope you all like it. Please like, follow, and reblog with a comment đâđž)
âââââââââââââââââ-
âHe wouldnât what?â Bucky asked with a look of bewilderment on his face about what you had just told him.
Maybe you were doing the most by spilling things, but what can you say, you were upset. Had just walked in on your boyfriend with someone else after heâd told you over and over again that nothing had been going on. To say you were in your feelings was an understatement.
It wasnât like things hadnât been on and off for a long time anyway but this was the final straw. You were so sick of him doing this to you. Of him lying to your face.
Telling you that youâre the only one and that he was serious about you. Honestly you really should have known be would have turned out to be a player. The worst part was that it seemed like you were never the one to get off. Felt like youâd wasted your time. Probably why you were spilling everything to The Winter Solider.
It was almost like things were coming out as word vomit. Secrets spilling from your mouth that you hadnât even told Natasha as they were too embarrassing.
Except he was sitting there acting like he really cared and clearly you needed that. Even more so when you started to say way too much.
âI know, right!â You scoffed. Thinking about the way heâd treated getting you off like some kind of chore.
Honestly you should have dumped him after the first time he said to you, âI donât eat pussy.â
âSo he never?â Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow.
You shook your head, sniffling. He looked so taken aback.
âThatâs bullshit,â Bucky said once again with a scoff. Eyes trailing all over your body. Thinking to himself what an idiot your ex was for not appreciating what he had. âAw, Honey,â he cooed, grabbing your hand when he noticed you tearing up.
As if you should be wasting tears on that asshole.
âIâm sorry,â you sniffled some more. âI donât even know why Iâm upset right now. Heâs not even worth it.â
Well, he was happy that you knew that.
âItâs okay,â he replied. âYou know Iâm right here.â
You nodded as he leaned forward to pull you into a hug. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Needing to melt into him as the vulnerability hit you like a freight train.
âThanks, Bucky,â you managed to say, pulling away so you could look at him. âSteveâs so lucky to have someone like you.â
Bucky glanced down at your lips. Wondering what Steve would say if he even saw the two of you in this position. You needing a shoulder to cry on as he wished he could comfort you in the way he wanted to.
Not like Steve wouldnât understand. He saw the way his boyfriend looked at you.
âYeah well, Steveâs stuck with me soâŚâ
You chuckled stopping to wipe your eyes. Bucky gently placed a hand on your cheek so he could do the same. Thumbing away the droplets.
âWish I could find a great guy like you. Hell like either of you. Seems like Iâm only ever getting into relationships with assholes.â
That kind of sparked something in his chest. Hearing you say that. Sitting here spilling his heart out to him.
âOh yeah?â He asked. âWell you know I think you deserve better.â
You smiled and wiped your eye. âThanks, James.â
âItâs okay,â he said, finally reaching out to give you a hug. Seeing that you clearly needed it. âYou know Iâm always here for you.â
âI know,â you whimpered. Honestly you didnât even know who else to come to besides him and Steve. Theyâd really done so much for you after theyâd moved in. Sure you kind of had to get used to living next door to the superhero couple, but so far theyâd kept you pretty safe.
It was super convent. Hadnât had to walk any groceries up to your place in months either. Seemed like the two of them were always there to take care of whatever you needed. Took such good care of you. Always.
So how did you think Bucky was going to feel when he heard that your ex hadnât been. As if any man wouldnât be happy to have a face full of pussy. Especially yours. Honestly what a fucking idiot. Even the idea of getting a taste was making him feel things he normally didnât.
âI canât believe he wouldnât eat you out, though,â he laughed. âWhat a- why didnât you say anything.â
âI donât know!â You laughed too, pulling away. âI just⌠I donât knowâŚâ
âItâs okay. Weâll just find you someone thatâs going to take care of you right.â
Once again you laughed and honestly he was just happy to see it. Hated having to see you cry. Especially over some bullshit like a man that couldnât even pleasure you properly. Why cry over him when Bucky could be making you smile.
âYouâve got such a cute little laugh,â he complimented. Not like it wasnât something he did a lot.
Him and Steve both did. Always wanting to let you know how beautiful they thought you were. Thought theyâd just been doing it as your friends, but Bucky just couldnât deny his attraction forever. Look at you.
Even crying you were one of the prettiest girls heâd ever seen. Had gotten all dolled up for an asshole that didnât deserve it. Makeup creeping down your face. Fuck. You shouldnât have to waste such a look.
You let another one of those giggles, looking down and using your shoulder to rub away a tear. Bucky leaned forward so he could place his hand underneath your chin. Lifting your head up. âHonestly, Doll,â he started, âyou might be the prettiest girl Iâve ever seen in my life.â
âYouâre just saying that,â you sniffled.
âNo, I mean it. You know I do.â
âBullshit,â you replied.
âI really do,â he said. âWhy do you think Steve and I have to take care of you so much. Pretty thing like you shouldnât have shit to worry about.â
Inside your heart felt like it could stop. He just looked so handsome as he spoke. Had recently gotten a haircut so he looked even better. Fresh faced. Even in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt he looked hot.
Not like you hadnât thought about him or Steve before. Knew they were both bisexual so it wasnât like they wouldnât ever be interested in you but still it always felt like such a long shot. They were your best friends. You werenât supposed to be thinking about them at night when you touched yourself. Especially when you had a boyfriend.
And they were from a different time. Actual gentleman back in the day from what you gathered. Wanted their women in the home and spoiled.
Sometimes the idea of it sounded kind of nice. Having a man dote on you. Then you had two of them really, really interested in your well being. Of course you were going to crush a little but you didnât want to cross any lines.
âI donât even know what Iâd do without you both,â you said.
âHey, thatâs how we feel about you. Who else is going to cook for us and make sure our place is tidy when weâre gone.â
You chuckled. âYou make me sound like a housewife.â
Bucky shrugged. âI mean⌠itâs a good look on you. Could see that.â
âWell, I mean, Iâd have to find a guy first.â
âI mean⌠maybe you already have,â he said.
âWhat?â You asked with a chuckle. âBucky, I-,â
âI know,â he cut you off. âBut, can I be honest?â
âOkayâŚâ
âYou know how much I love having you around and I-,â
âWhat about Steve?â You asked him. âI canât just⌠I canât just do that to him.â
âWeâll worry about him later,â he replied, stroking your cheek, making you look at him. Finally placing a kiss on your lips.
You quickly pulled away with a gasp. âBucky, we canât⌠heâs myâŚâ
âShhh, donât worry about, Steve, Baby,â he tried to assure you, your eyes hitting his. Something about his gaze making you feel warm on the inside.
âI- no we canât justâŚâ
âYes we can,â Bucky said. âItâs okay.â
And as bad as you wanted to keep fighting him. For some reason you just couldnât. As Bucky pulled you close so that he could go back to kissing you.
Fuck his lips did feel good. And everything with your now ex. You were vulnerable. You wanted to feel wanted.
But, SteveâŚ
âDonât worry about Steve, Baby,â Bucky whispered in your ear again. âFocus on me.â
Buckyâs fingers went under your dress. Gripping your thighs. A curl in his lip. Fuck he was so pretty.
He slowly pushed you down. Climbing on top of you so he could really take control. Pushing your legs up so that he could get in between them. Kissing you more before you could protest.
Bucky was getting his fucking taste. Just because your stupid little boyfriend didnât want to taste it, didnât mean he didnât want to. He was getting it.
âFuck!â You gasped as he started kissing your collarbone. No longer thinking about your ex or his boyfriend.
ďżźFelt good to have you right where he wanted you. Finally. It had taken him this goddamn long.
You laid back as Bucky got on his knees. Placing a kiss on one of your knees first before going up towards your thigh. A breath hitched in your throat. If you were feeling hesitant, he could change your mind.
âBucky,â you whimpered as he spread your legs, to get a good look at your panty covered pussy.
âSo fucking pretty,â he groaned as he looked up at you. His poor girl still obviously shy. Thatâs okay heâd take care of you. Just needed to-
âFuck!â You cried as he kissed you through your panties. âWe shouldnât-,â you tried to keep it going.
Not like he cared as he pushed your underwear to the side so he could lick a strip from the bottom up to your clit. Making your words get caught in your throat as you laid back with a moan. Yeah thatâs what he fucking thought. He knew you wanted this shit.
You trembled as he feasted on your clitoris. Sinking into the cushions as your hips stuttered. See he knew you liked it. It was so much better when you didnât fight him. Now he could really give it to you.
He didnât waste anymore time as he pulled the fabric from your body. Not giving a single fuck as to where it could have possibly been discarded before diving back in. It had been a long time since heâd done this, but itâs not like Steve wasnât aware that heâd missed a womanâs touch. Maybe more than he realized.
âFuck me, Bucky,â you sobbed as he got you closer. It had been so long since sex had just been about you that maybe you should take advantage of being a pillow princess. What girl wouldnât want her hot metal armed best friend to eat her pussy. Canât believe you tried to turn this down. âDonât stop!â
Not like he planned too. Especially as he dipped his fingers into your cunt. Twisting them around so he could find your spot.
âAh!â You cried, as soon as he hit it. Thatâs his fucking girl. He watched as your face twisted up in pleasure. Could taste how close you were. How yummy you were.
âBuck!â Steveâs voice could be heard from the hallway as the door slammed closed.
You sat up, quickly. Pushing his head away and scooting away from him to smooth out your dress. Shit. Fuck. âBabe, itâs okay,â Bucky whispered.
What the hell does he mean itâs okay. His boyfriend was about to walk in on-
âOh, Y/N, I didnât know you were here,â Steve said as he came into the room. Placing a quick peck on Buckyâs lips making your mouth drop. He had to have tasted you on his lips. You found yourself feeling stuck as you sat up, making sure you were covered. âIs everything okay?â Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.
Except it was like you couldnât speak. What the hell were you supposed to even say as if his boyfriends face hadnât just been close to making you squirt all over it.
âShe caught Bryce cheating,â Bucky explained. Funny how that literally had not been on your mind this entire time.
Steve looked taken aback and scoffed. âWhat? No? Seriously?â
âY-yeah⌠with⌠some girl,â you replied, not wanting to meet his eyes.
The super solider frowned as he grabbed your hand to pull you into a hug. Wrapping his arms around you. âOh, honey. Iâm sorry. Heâs a fucking idiot,â he said, much like his boyfriend when youâd first told him.
Only making you feel more horrible inside. How the hell could you do this to him. Especially after what Bryce had just done to you.
âItâs okay,â you said. âMaybe I should go.â
âAnd go where?â Bucky asked. âNot back to that apartment I can tell you that. Just stay here.â
The pair of panties Bucky had taken off of you were practically staring at you from the other side of the room. Steveâs back turned to it. âAt least stay for dinner,â he said. âWe can get whatever you want.â
Except even the suggestion made you feel more awful. Steve did not deserve this. If anything you should just say it. Not that the words would actually leave your lips. Tongue tied and all you could do was nod.
It was insane how quickly Bucky was able to act totally normal. Or that you were more frustrated that you never actually got the chance to finish. They were right though, you really didnât have anywhere else to go, but here.
So there you sat right next to Bucky as the three of you ate the dinner Steve had ordered you. Trying to keep your cool as you didnât want to bring too much attention to yourself. Even as you squirmed in your seat, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Bucky had really done a number on you. Could still feel his mouth on your lapping at your clit.
âSo what happened?â Steve had finally asked from his spot across from the two of you. Obviously wanting to know everything. Not like you two werenât normally close.
Your jaw dropped as you immediately tried to think of a lie. âUm, nothing,â you blurted out.
Bucky put his hand on your thigh, attempting to relax you except you were way too on edge. How could he just be touching you like this.
His boyfriend on the other hand raised an eyebrow at your outburst. âI thought you caught Bryce cheating?â He asked.
You closed your eyes. Duh he was talking about that. âI mean, I did,â you replied with a nervous laugh. âYeah, he was with some girl.â You sighed.
âWell, what are you going to do now? You know weâre not going to let you go back. We have a perfectly fine guest room,â he said a smile on his face. Looking every bit of nice and sweet as he always did. The guilt already feeling like it was going to eat you up.
Didnât even pay attention as you felt Buckyâs metal hands going up your thigh more. Getting dangerously close to the intimate place his face had just been buried inside of. You put your hand over it to move him, but he didnât budge. Not giving a single shit.
You gulped at his fingers found their way up your dress again. Biting your lip as he chuckled. Not taking his eyes off of you as you struggled to answer. âI canât ask you to do that.â
âBullshit.â Bucky laughed. âYouâre staying with us, Doll.â
You crinkled your nose which turned into biting the inside of your cheek, trying to hold in a moan. âWe wonât take no for an answer.â
Well, that much was obvious.
ââââââââââââââââââ
The two of them helped you get settled in. You wore one of Buckyâs t-shirts since you literally didnât have anything else. Had finally managed to grab your panties before you hoped Steve had seen them.
Your body still screaming out for release. Before giving you his shirt heâd whispered in your ear. âAnd you better not make yourself cum when youâre in the shower. Only Iâm allowed to do that.â Wanting to prolong your torture.
What kind of shit was that. How did he get you so worked up like this. So easily. Hell that whole time you were with Bryce you canât remember that happening. Not like you wanted to think about him.
The distraction was pretty nice, you had to admit. Who had time to think about being cheated on when your hot best friend was trying to eat your pussy.
As you opened the door you poked your head out, hesitating to call out to them. Hey, guys?â You called. Poking your head out from the restroom.
âYeah?â Both of them were quick to chime in.
âCan you bring me some shirts!?â You asked. âIâm a little⌠exposed.â
You couldnât see him, but Bucky snickered as Steve tilted his head at him. Both of them standing on either side of their king sized bed. âWhat?â Bucky said. âOh come on Iâm sure itâs fine,â Bucky tried to say with a straight face, but as soon as he was done he chuckled.
Steve shook his head, but couldnât help the smirk that came on his face. âItâs really short,â you complained. âAnd I donât have clean underwear.â
With that Bucky winked in his boyfriendâs direction. âBe right back.â
The smirk didnât drop from the super soliders face as his boyfriend left the room. Only to go back to making up the third spot on the bed between them.
âWhatâs up, Doll?â Bucky asked seeing your head still sticking out.
âItâs too short,â you said, biting your lip.
He raised an eyebrow. Going to push the door open, not caring that youâd been blocking it. âLemme see.â
âNo!â You protested.
Bucky rolled his eyes. âOh come. Youâre acting like I didnât just eat you out,â he said.
âSteve is right outside,â you whispered harshly.
He rolled his eyes. âSteveâs in the room.â
âYeah and he has super soldier hearing,â you pressed.
âItâs not all he has,â Bucky said under his breath. âDoll, youâre fine. I canât even see anything.â
âMy ass is out!â You gasped.
The man smirked at that, getting behind you to press your ass into his crotch. âAnd what a nice ass it is,â he whispered in your ear. Flesh hand landing on your breast to squeeze it and not giving a shit as you tried to swat him away. Going down your body until he was pushing up the shirt.
âWe canât!â You protested as his hand slipped down to your pussy. As bad as you wanted him to touch you, it didnât seem wise. Fuck your body was practically crying for the release he couldnât give you earlier.
âEverything okay?â Came the other manâs voice from outside the door.
Bucky scrunched his nose. âYeah,â he called. Going to open up the door. âTell her itâs not that bad,â he pressed.
You tried to tug it down so it was a little bit more past your thighs. Face heating up as Steve scanned up and down your body. âYou look fine, Doll.â
Ugh. There the both of them go. The two of them were way too handsome to be having you stand here exposed with a dripping wet pussy. You bit your lip. Not like anyone else would see you. Just them. âWell⌠okâŚâ you sighed.
âWanna watch a movie before bed?â Steve asked.
You nodded. Bucky put his hand on your lower back. Going down dangerously close to your ass. Only to finally come down to squeeze it tightly. Making you yelp. âAh!â
Steve furrowed his eyebrows but laughed. âYou ok?â
âIâm fine,â you squeaked, putting your hand over your mouth. Before making a pointed look at his boyfriend.
âAnyway, I was thinking we could watch a movie before bed,â Steve suggested.
âActually, Iâm kinda tired,â you immediately replied. Going to stretch your arms up and yawn until you remember how exposed you were.
âOh come on, itâll be fine,â Bucky said, nudging you.
âNo. I have to be at work so early,â you replied. âItâs already way too late.â
âHell no. Youâre taking a sick day.â He looked appalled at the notion.
âI canât.â You sniffled. âBesides, Iâm off the next day. Iâll be fine.â
Bucky huffed. âAlright, fine, but what are you going to wear to work then?â
âIâll just wash my clothes before we go to sleep,â you replied with a sigh. Havenât exactly thought all of that through.
âSo, movie it is?â Steve said.
Of course theyâd get their way. Trying to keep your shirt from riding up too much as you went on your tippy toes to put your stuff in the wash. Closing your eyes when you realized your panties were still missing.
You peeked over to where they would have been. Except Steve would have definitely noticed them by now. âLooking for these?â Bucky asked. Holding up the pair. You immediately glanced over at where Steve was in the kitchen before reaching out to snatch them. âAh, ah, ah,â he held them above his head. âFinders keepers, Doll,â he teased.
You let out a huff, crossing your arms. âWhy are you being like this?â You asked. Honestly it was all so shocking. Normally he was such a sweetheart. He eats you out once and this is what he turns into?
Bucky shrugged. âBecause I can,â he replied with a wink before leaning into kiss your cheek. âNow wipe that look off your face before I do it for you. You hear me?â
You nodded and sniffled. Wishing youâd gone anywhere else. Natashaâs maybe. Or hell even Samâs place would have been fine. Not like you didnât like how Buckyâs mouth had felt on you. Itâs just now you were feeling terrible for doing all of this under Steveâs nose.
âGood girl,â he said, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.
You sighed as he went back to the bedroom. Making you raise an eyebrow. Werenât the three of you supposed to be watching a movie?
âHey, Doll,â Steve said from his spot on the bed. Going through Netflix. âWhat movie did you wanna watch?â
âOh? Weâre watching in here?â
âYeah?â He replied. âThat a problem?â
You looked over at Bucky who despite not responding, had a smirk on his face that you wish you could wipe off of him. Sitting there smug with his hand in his pocket. No doubt toying with the pair of panties heâd stolen.
âActually I think Iâm just gonna go to bed after all,â you said. âIâm really tired.â
Bucky rolled his eyes. âWell, I forgot to set up the guest room.â
You crinkled your nose. Of course he did. âThatâs ok. I can just sleep on the couch.â
âWhat?â Steve chimed in. âWe have more than enough room for you, Doll. Come on.â
They had to be fucking with you. No way was Bucky getting what he wanted just like that. âNo itâs fine. Iâll just get blankets from the linen closet.â
âDoll,â Buckyâs voice was stern. Commanding even. âCome. Here.â
You hated it when your feet started moving. Whether you wanted them to or not. âWhat?â You asked, not meeting his eyes as you stood in front of him.
âFirst of all, drop the attitude. Second, we told you, youâre sleeping in here so get over it.â
Steve watched the two of you, not saying a word. Didnât he care that his boyfriend was trying to manipulate you? Right in front of him. Your bottom lip quivered, tears prickling at your eyes.
âI just wanna go to bed,â you whispered.
âFine. Thereâs a perfectly good spot right between us. Is there a problem with that?â You shook your head. Not wanting to even argue anymore. Didnât even feel worth it.
It was just too much for one night. All of it was. Canât believe you hadnât just started bursting out crying right between them.
Instead you tried to get some sleep. As restless as you were. Trying to keep yourself from tossing and turning since you didnât want to bother them. Not like you had much room considering you were squeezed between two giant super soliders. âYou ok?â Steve asked in a tired voice.
âHm?â You hummed, not taking your eyes off the ceiling. âCanât sleep.â
He yawned. âHey, I know your ex was an ass, but you know Buck and I are going to be with you through this whole thing, right?â
You nodded, not saying out loud what was really on your mind. Fuck this was so wrong. Screwed up on so many levels. Too bad you didnât kick Bryce out instead of coming over here, but at the time it was the natural thing to do.
Hell there was barely even any room between their giant bodies. Even in this large bed. Felt like if Bucky rolled over heâd end up squishing you. Heâd gotten so damn close. Bad enough that the t-shirt theyâd given you was sitting above your ass now.
âItâs ok Iâll be out before you guys even know it,â you said.
Steve scoffed. âDonât be silly. You know you can stay here as long as you want. A city like this is no place for a little girl like you all alone.â
You scrunched up your nose at that. âIâm not a kid, Steve. I can take care of myself,â you assured.
âYeah, but you shouldnât have to. Not as long as Bucky and I are around to do it.â
Speak of the devil, that was when he wrapped his arms around your waist. Pulling you against him. Ass going to his crotch. You let out a gasp and tried to wiggle away, but with Steve so close you were stuck. Not like you could get away from him anyway with the hold he had on you.
Not like you didnât know that he was a cuddler. Not the first time the two of you had fallen asleep together. Never with your naked ass out though.
âItâs ok, Steve. Really,â you tried to assure him. As you were doing that, Bucky decided it would be a good time to sneak his hand between your legs. Taking advantage of you being bare. You let out a gasp, jumping as soon as his hand made contact.
âYou ok?â Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.
âUh huh,â you squeaked out, trying to grab at his hands, but all he did was use one of his to hold yours down as he continued touching you.
âHold still, little girl,â Bucky whispered in your ear, saying the last words in a mocking tone.
Your face felt hot as you looked forward at the blond. He had to know right. There was no way Bucky was just doing this right in front of him and he had no idea.
He pawed your thighs. Making sure they were nice and spread as his hand hands continued their torture. One going underneath the shirt to cup your breasts. Tweaking your nipples. He was groping you like he didnât give a fuck about getting caught. Only made worse when his fingers finally touched your clit.
You bit your lip to keep yourself from crying out. Especially as he pushed you back so you were really pressed against him. Hard dick to your ass.
âIâm ok,â you tried to assure Steve. The words on the tip of your tongue. Pressure building in your stomach already as youâd never had the chance to finish earlier.
âWhen are you going to get your stuff?â Steve asked. âYou know weâre going to come with you, right.â
Instead of fighting him you just replied, âT-thanks, Steve.â
âAlways,â he said. âYou know Bucky and I are always here for you.â
Well, obviously.
âI know we donât say it a lot, but you mean a lot to us,â he said and all you could do was swallow as you felt his boyfriendâs fingers bringing you closer and closer to what you never got to have earlier. âAnd Bryce was such an asshole. He never deserved you.â
You swallowed down the moan that was threatening to bubble out of your mouth. Only made worse as you looked into Steveâs bright blue eyes as he sleepily looked over at you. Not like you hadnât heard that a million times from both of them, but right now he just looked so freaky and-
âUgh,â came out of your mouth which you quickly covered up with a cough.
âAre you sure youâre ok?â Steve asked once again.
âNever better,â you lied through your teeth.
Steve yawned. âWe should get some sleep. Goodnight, Doll.âWith that he leaned forward pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. Catching you all the way off guard.
âSteve-,â you gasped, putting your hand up to your lips.
âWhat?â He asked with a chuckle.
âYou canât just-,â
âItâs not big deal,â he assured. âBucky wonât care. It was just a little goodnight kiss.â
âYeah, but-,â
He cut you off once more. âUnless you want it be to more,â he said with a wink.
What. The. Fuck.
âGoodnight, Doll,â he said not giving you a chance to say more as he closed his eyes. Smile on his face.
Bucky stopped what he was doing to put his face into your shoulder. Light snores coming from him. Hell his hand was still in your panties. Almost like he was making sure you couldnât get away from him. The worst part about it was that not once did he let you fall off the edge.
Youâd definitely need to start looking for places tomorrow.
1K notes
¡
View notes
Honey, I want something for âbeing Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughterâ. and being Garrett's love interest! I love him, however, he has few things on this platform! Guys are very protective of her as well as girls. Thanks for the attention đˇđ.
Being Carlisle and Esme's youngest daughter HCs:
Paring: daughter!Reader x Dad!Carlisle x Mom!Esme (Reader x Boyfriend!Garrett)
Summary: headcanons about carlisle and Esme's daughter dating Garrett.
đMasterList đtwilight MasterList
So I think they're youngest daughter is gonna remain human for awhile. Your the only cullen 'child' that has been legally adopted by carlisle and Esme, So your actually they're daughter.
You were the daughter of an old friend of Esme's, your mother died giving birth to you and your biological father just wasn't fit to take care of you. Esme and Carlisle took you in under your bio-mom's wishes.
Anyway, Esme was over the moon excited to have a baby in the house, she practically never put you down... Unless Carlisle wanted to hold you and cuddle you.
The two never really gotten the chance to be actual parents, with the other's they were already grown and matured, but with you they could finally experience parent hood.
Your defently a daddy's girl, Carlisle loves you with every single cell in his body and he's very over protective of you... Unfortunately to the point he didn't trust Jasper alone with you when you were a baby.
Speaking of Jasper and siblings, you literally have the best siblings in the world. If you thought carlisle was over protective just wait till you see the boys.
Emmett and you are the closet, he's always making you laugh and 'wrestling'. He'll do just about anything for you or with you. He's probably also the most protective out of your three brothers.
When you were little Edward would often read you stories and teach you how to play piano.
Jasper is your go to person when you have a problem, he's the best listener and he has your back.
As you got older the protectiveness got old, high school wasn't easy with them around but honestly they're the reason you survived.
But the protectiveness didn't get really annoying till you met Garrett, your mate.
In all honesty it's Edward and Bella's fault (Emmett words not yours). You and Bella don't get along at all and she's jealous of yours and Edward's relationship... That's a story for another time though, this is yours and Garrett's story.
Anyway, the family didn't really expect it to happen. After going to Egypt with your parents you decided to met the other guests, that's how you met Garrett.
He cought your eye immediately and the feeling was mutual, Carlisle didn't like how Garrett would look at you.
âwho were you talking to?â your dad asked after leaving the living room. âdose it matter?â
âno, no, it doesn't matter unless it's a Boy!â
You just brushed it off, knowing your dad was just being over protective and You continued to get to know Garrett.
You thought he was very charming and funny. Dispite the situation you were currently in with Renesmee he was always making you laugh.
Your parents were happy and all, but at the same time Carlisle didn't want to see you get hurt.
âDad, what are you doing?â you asked after put some space between you and Garrett.
âthere should be a safe distance between you and boys... Especially this oneâ
Anyway, Garrett realized the problem and went to Carlisle about it. They were both old fashion.
âI think I love your daughter and I want to your promising to date herâ
Carlisle's problems seemed to go away slightly. âwell it's up to her... But if you hurt her you'll deal with meâ
after your family won the battle with the vulturi he took you at on that date. He treated you like a queen the whole time and he asked you to be his girlfriend at the end of the night.
So he did join the coven after awhile. The whole nomad life wasn't pleasant to him anymore. He even changed to the vegetarian diet for you.
He likes like being productive of you, but he knows you can take care of yourself.
Emmett dose send deth threats when you started dating. âyou better not hurt herâ carlisle doesn't have a violent bone in his body, but Emmett dose.
But after the family saw how happy you were they welcomed Garrett into the family with open arms.
âI'll follow you anywhere womanâ he smiled.
1K notes
¡
View notes
More Than This 1
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader
Word Count: ~4.1k
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! đ
It was uncommon to be called to your stepfatherâs office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. Youâd only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window â your mother.Â
âMom?â you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.
âSweetheart,â he called to you. Itâs what heâd called you since youâd first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance heâd been saddled with when heâd married your mother for her late first husbandâs connections. Eighteen years later, you wished heâd drop the pretense already. âPlease, have a seat,â he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk.Â
You sat down across from him. âWhatâs going on?â you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.
âCongratulations are in order,â he said, smiling at you. âYouâre engaged.â
Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. Theyâd all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasnât much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didnât make you any more ready for your turn.Â
âThatâs wonderful,â you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. âMay I ask whom Iâm engaged to?âÂ
âRansom Drysdale,â Joseph said. âHeâs the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. Weâve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. Itâs fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.â
Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible.Â
âSo,â he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, âall you need to do is sign and initial the contract where itâs marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.â
At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. âNext month?â
Joseph nodded. âItâs important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.â
Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. âShouldnât I read it first?â you asked, somewhat desperately.
He shook his head, âNo need,â he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. âJulian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. Itâs all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you arenât a lawyer.â He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him.Â
âI justââ you stammered. You didnât know what to do, but you knew you couldnât pick up that pen.
Irritation bloomed on your stepfatherâs face. âLydia!â he called.Â
Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. âHoney,â she said gently, putting her hand on your back. âThis will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!â She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. Sheâd looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you.Â
You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you werenât getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you werenât sure any of it was legible.
When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. âExcellent!â He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. âWeâve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, Iâm sure you want to go celebrate, so we wonât keep you any longer.â
At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.
Youâd been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Josephâs indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, heâd named himself your protector, shielding you from his fatherâs annoyance and your motherâs sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable.Â
When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, heâd hugged you and whispered in your ear, âSee? Iâm always right.â
That was the memory you couldnât stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrotherâs apartment, using the key heâd given you on the day heâd moved in. He wasnât in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. âWhat happened?â he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.
âI think I might be really fucked, Steve,â you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldnât get them to stop.
âWhat happened?â he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.
âYour dad, heââ You stopped and shook your head. Steveâs face darkened. âIâm engaged,â you said with a helpless shrug.
âOkay,â he said evenly. âThat might not be the most dire thing. Youâve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.â
You sighed. âTheyâve set a date this time.â
âOh,â was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. âThatâs new.â
âYeah.â you nodded. âA month from now.â
That had Steve sitting up straight. âThe hell?!â
âItâs happening this time. I can feel it.â
âHey, no,â he said, reaching out to touch your arm. âLet me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.â
You shook your head. âEverythingâs already signed. They made me sign. I donât think thereâs any getting out of it.â
âHe give you a name?â
âRansom Drysdale.â
Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.
âFuck,â you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.
âNo, itâsâ Iâve only met him once or twice, ok? I donât actually know anything about him.â
âBut you donât like him.â
âHeâsââ Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldnât upset you even more, âa strong personality.â He looked at you carefully. âAnd heâs older than you. Older than me, even.â
âI know,â you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. âThey gave me this.â
You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. âThis is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?â
You shrugged. âDunno. Probably. Canât imagine it says anything interesting.â Â
Steve nodded, seriously. âItâs probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you werenât allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.â
You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. âYouâre such a dick!â you laughed. âIâm very upset!â
He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. âHe deserves to know the kind of person heâs marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when sheâs separated from her stuffed bunny.â
âI was eight, asshole!â You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. âHoly shit, heâs marrying me. Iâm getting married. I donât know anything about him. He could be anyone. You donât even like him! He could hurt me andââÂ
âHey, no!â Steve interrupted quickly. âI might not know much, but I know that. He wonât do that. Iâm sure of it. And if he ever even tried, Iâd be there so fast. Theyâd never find his body.â
âWill he be kind to me?â you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. âBe honest with me. Please.â
He sighed. âI donât know.â
âWell,â you said, trying so hard not to cry, âI guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.â
Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His âIâm going to fix thisâ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. âIâm going to talk to Dad.â
You shook your head. âSteve.â Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldnât go anywhere.
âItâs going to be alright,â he said resolutely.
All you could do was say âOK,â with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. âDo you mind if I stay here for a bit?â
âOf course not. Lola good on her own for a while?â
You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. âYeah, for a while.â
âDo you mind if I keep working on this?â he asked, gesturing to his painting.
âI like watching you paint,â you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something youâd done since you were small.
He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, youâd have to move to Boston and you wouldnât get to have this time with your brother anymore.
As expected, Steveâs talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadnât expected anything else.
For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransomâpouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impressionâand pretending your problems didnât exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck.Â
The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead.Â
So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. Youâd arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to.Â
Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. Itâd be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after youâd gone, itâd make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.
Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didnât introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom.Â
He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.
You cleared your throat to say something, you werenât entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. âYou donât drink?â
âNo, I do,â you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. âI can,â you amended, but that sounded odd too. âI mean, I donât have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.â
He snorted. âWell, arenât you polite?â His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didnât know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering.Â
Once youâd finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, âHow old even are you?â with scorn in his voice.
You cleared your throat. âTwenty-four,â you tried to say with confidence.
âJesus Christ,â he muttered.
You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, âDidnât they tell you about me?â
He snorted again and rolled his eyes. âGave me a whole binder. I never opened it.â
You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. Youâd studied every inch of what theyâd given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldnât care less. âOh,â was all you were able to say.Â
He grinned a little meanly. âYou got one too, didnât you? Donât tell me youâve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.â
âNo,â you growled out. You werenât going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.
He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. âMy god,â he muttered, âthis whole thing is fucking ridiculous.â
The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you werenât entirely sure what that point was.Â
You were ready to order, but Ransom hadnât glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, âGo ahead and bring me another one of these right away,â and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.
Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. âDo you know what youâre going to have?â you asked, nodding to his menu.
He shook his head. âI have dinner plans after this.â
Heat shot through your whole body. âI thought these were the dinner plans.â
He rolled his eyes again. âGetting a head start on the nagging?â he asked, dryly. âWow, itâs like weâre already married.â
You opened your mouth to do something, you werenât sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. âAlright, letâs get this done. Youâre moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I donât need your shit cluttering up everything.â
You didnât know what to say to that. You didnât know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasnât even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, âI have a dog.â
He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that youâd spoken at all. âWhat? No. Absolutely not. Youâll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.â
You didnât even bother to try to think through the static in your head. âSheâs coming with me. I donât care what else happens, Iâm fucking bringing my dog.â
Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, âFine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, youâre getting rid of it. Iâm serious.â Â
âShe wonât,â you said, as sure of that as anything. âSheâs a good girl.â
âWhatever,â he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, âThe bill,â without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, âI donât know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, butâŚâ he shrugged.
You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap heâd just taken. âBaby? What? Who said anything about a baby?â
He laughed, loudly. âOh my god, they didnât tell you?â
âTell me what?â you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest.Â
âOf course, they fucking left that to me. Thereâs a clause in the contract,â he said, ârequiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.â
You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldnât breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?
âYou seriously didnât read your own marriage contract?â The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldnât help it.
âThey didnât give me any time,â you said, quietly. âThey just made me sign it.â
âAnd you always do what youâre told, donât you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.â He said it the same way heâd called you polite when heâd first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. Youâd never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.
âFuck,â you whispered.
He chuckled humorlessly. âWe agree on that,â he said. âThis whole thing is fucked.â
At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransomâs card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. âListen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, Iâm going to try to salvage my night. You go do,â he gestured vaguely at you, âwhatever you need to do. Iâll see you at the wedding.â
And then he was gone and you were alone.
You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way heâd looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that youâd have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parentsâ house instead.Â
Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight.Â
Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. âWe werenât expecting you tonight,â he said. âHow did it go?â
You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. âPlease donât make me do this,â you pleaded.Â
âSweetheart,â he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. âIâm sure it wasnât that bad.â
âIt was. It was awful. Heâsâ I canât do this. Please, please donât make me.â Your voice broke, but you couldnât be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him.Â
âEveryone gets nervous before their wedding. Youâll be fine. This is important. To all of us.â
âItâs not nerves!â You were close to shouting, suddenly. âYou werenât there. You donât know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesnât have to be this family, does it? It doesnât have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. Iâm begging you, donât make me marry him, have a child with him.â
He chuckled lightly. âOh, thatâs what this is about. It wonât feel as scary once the baby is here. Youâll make an excellent mother.â
You just stared at him, agape. He wasnât listening to anything you had to say. âHow could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldnât have signed!â
His face hardened at that. âYou were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.â
âJoseph, please listen to me. I canât. I canât. Please. If you care about me at all, you wonât make me do this.â
âYouâre being ridiculous. Itâs done. Everythingâs signed. You signed. Now,â he said and took a drink, âitâs getting late. Itâs high time you went home. Hopefully, youâll be able to calm yourself down there.â And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.
As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.
When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. âHow did it go?â he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.
Part Two
Tag list is open
@stargazingfangirl18
@drabblewithfrannybarnes
@thezombieprostitute
@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory
@bval-1
483 notes
¡
View notes
the shape of your body (explicit)
genre: fluffy slowburn smut
pairing: jimin x reader
summary:Â the same day you finally manage to speak to your months-long public transit crush, you end up seeing much more of him than you bargained for.
word count: 24k đââď¸
contains:Â explicit sexual content~*~ (after a slow burn lmao) - new york city grad school AU, strangers to lovers, reader is an art student, public transit thirsting, jimin is a dancer and a nude model, namgi and vhope as side characters, basically everyone is gay (they're ART STUDENTS in NEW YORK CITY it's called realism đ
), a smidge of member x member side character relationships, jimin is biromantic demisexual đ, conversations about body image issues/past relationship struggles/demisexuality and libido, soooo much making out, a couple "failed attempts" at sex, accidental voyeurism (but not how you think lmao YOU'LL SEE), showering together non-sexually, and: fingering, clit stim, nipple play, come eating/sharing đ¤ an attempted blowjob, face sitting, & protected sex (multiple rounds đĽľ)
A/N: asjdshgkdfjgs i can't believe it's done đ there were so many times i thought i would never finish this fic !!! i have too many friends to thank for talking me off of SEVERAL ledges where i was convinced this whole thing was trash and that i should just stick to short porn or perhaps simply never write again. i'm so glad i saw this one through because there are concepts in here that are deeply important and personal to me wehhh đŤ i sincerely hope y'all enjoy this one!! thank u for enduring mostly radio silence while i was in jimin lockdown, and of course, happy early birthday to mini, the light of my mf life đĽ°đ
(oh and LDOMLT ch 8 is coming next so buckle tf up bitches đ)
an eternity of smooches to @haliiimede for beta reading and just generally being the best fucking person on planet earth ⨠AND TO @goodsoop FOR THE DEMI SENSITIVITY READ VERY SORRY THAT I AM THE WORLD'S LARGEST IDIOT AND FORGOT TO CREDIT..... i love you both đĽş
read on AO3!
~*~
Youâve taken the subway thousands of times since moving to New York.
Morning rides, squeezed nearly to death between commuters in suits blinking back sleep and school-uniformed kids scream-laughing and paper coffee cups gripped tight by winter-numb fingers.
Long trips with your sketchbook on your lap, riding the line all the way to Pelham Bay Park and back, to surface above ground out where thereâs a little more space to breathe, until the setting sun floods orange glow between the buildings just before you descend again.
Late nights coming home, Namjoonâs head thudding back against the train window behind him as he dozes off, one arm thrown around your shoulder to ward off any drunk creeps, his free hand interlaced with Yoongiâs on his other side.
Itâs always been the three of you, first in friendship, and now that the two of them have figured out theyâre something more, you donât mind it. But when itâs late and youâve had enough drinks to feel warm all the way through, to melt something open inside of you, and you glance over to see a loving flicker of eyelashes exchanged as Namjoon leans down and presses a kiss to Yoongiâs temple, you canât help it.
Thereâs a little bit of an ache there, right behind your ribs. Sometimes.
But mostly, when it comes to the train, you take the 6 to school. You go through the motions this morning the same as you always do: headphones around your neck, bag slung over your shoulder, immediately dropping into the first empty seat you see as the train doors shudder closed and the car starts to move. Six stops down, 51st street to Astor Place, five days a week, you know it like a heartbeat.
You just wish you knew him, too.
Subway Boy, as Yoongi affectionately labeled him the time you got two pitchers of margaritas deep and made the mistake of confessing to your roommates about your crushâ if it can even be called that. Can you truly have a crush on someone you know nothing about, not even their name?
Well, you know a few things.
He must live further north than you, because on the days you see him, heâs already on the train when you board at 51st.
He must like music, because he always has a set of fancy bluetooth earbuds in.
Youâre pretty sure heâs an athlete of some sort, because heâs usually carrying a gym bagâand because during this summerâs heat wave, the one and only time youâve seen him wear shorts, you nearly fainted at the thick, defined muscles of his thighs.
He has an affinity for jewelry, delicate silver always glinting through the multiple piercings in his ears. At odds with this, he seems to prefer to dress comfortably, and youâve seen him in enough branded school t-shirts and sweats to figure he must also be an NYU student, though you canât say for sure if heâs undergrad or graduate.
You deeply hope youâre not crushing on someone who still needs a fake ID to drink, but thereâs no way to be certain.
Most importantly, you know that he is absolutely stunning. Elegantly handsome, with expressive deep brown eyes, skin like glass, and round cheeks and full lips that flush frozen pink on particularly frigid New York days. His hair has changed colors a few times over the months that have passed since you first took notice of him, but itâs currently a honey blonde, and long enough that he often reaches up to card a hand through it. He does it now, pushing loose strands back to expose his forehead as he frowns down at his phone.
On days where you share the same car, you notice very little else that happens on the ride, thoroughly entranced in Subway Boyâs beauty and his mystery. The train could probably catch fire and youâd miss it entirely.
Today happens to be one of those days, and excitement glitters in your bloodstream as you realize heâs seated across from you. The rush of seeing him always feels like its own reward, some kind of cosmic sign that the day is going to be a good one.
And then the train stops moving.
Thereâs an audible reaction from a few people in the car, and you glance up a moment later when a voice buzzes over the intercom. Youâre able to make out âattention passengersâ and very little after that, just the basics about some sort of unforeseen interruption of service and that the train should resume moving again soon.
You sigh, knowing very well that the MTAâs definition of âsoonâ does not often align with typical human expectations. Figuring youâve got some time to kill, you reach into your bag to retrieve your sketchbook and the first pencil you can dig out of the bottom.
âWhat did they say?â A voice, quiet and deep, surprises you before you can even flip to your in-progress page.
You glance up to find Subway Boy staring at you, forearms braced on his knees as he leans forward into the gap between his seat and yours. Heâs got one bluetooth earbud pinched between his fingertips and a confused look on his face, having clearly missed the announcement.
Heat floods your face at the feeling of his eyes fixed on you, and it takes you a second to form a response. âUhâ I didnât get most of it. Something about unforeseen interruption. And that weâll be moving again soon.â
A muscle works in his jaw as he rolls his eyes. âTypical.â
âI donât think they know what âsoonâ means,â you murmur, mostly to yourself as you tear your gaze away from Subway Boy and return to the sketchbook in your lap, rifling through to find your latest half-finished drawing. When you hear him huff a laugh, you have to bite down on the hopeful smile that threatens to shine across your face.
âDefinitely not.â
You force yourself to keep your eyes on the page, assuming Subway Boy must go back to his music when he falls silent after his last comment.
With featherlight flicks of your pencil, you start to add a little depth to the quick study you were working on last night, Yoongiâs half-peeled tangerine that he left abandoned on the coffee table when he stepped out onto the fire escape for a smoke.
Subway Boyâs voice catches you off guard a second time. âAre you drawing?â
You bite down on your lip again, a nervous habit, and you nod as you tilt the page so he can see from across the car.
âWow.â You wonder if youâre imagining the way his voice seems to soften a little. âYouâre really good. Are you an artist?â
You canât help itâ your gaze flits up to meet his again. Itâs nearly overwhelming to lock eyes with your Subway Boy and hear him compliment you, like something out of a wild daydream. âI guess so,â you remark, the corner of your mouth tugging up into a small smile as you say it. âIâve certainly paid NYU enough money in my attempts to become one.â
âKnow the feeling,â he scoffs, but his eyes smile back, pulled into crescent moons.
âWhat did you pay them for?â
âCurrently, a dual MFA/MA in dance and⌠teaching dance. Really went all-in on the dancer thing.â
âOh.â Your eyes widen automatically. Youâve wonderedâ and yes, occasionally drunkenly speculated with your roommatesâ what Subway Boyâs line of work might be, but you have no idea why dancer never occurred to you. Because now all the pieces suddenly fall together in front of you: the toned muscles that flex beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt, the natural grace he exudes, not to mention his perfect posture.
Of course heâs a dancer. It makes perfect sense.
It occurs to you, a beat too late, that a wide-eyed âohâ is not the most normal response to a truly innocuous answer to a question asked of a random stranger.
But the smile in his eyes doesnât falter. âI feel like I see you on this train a lot.â
Your stomach flutters like butterfly wings, and you have to look away, back down to the safety of your sketchbook. âReally?â
Thereâs an extra pause before he speaks again. âMan, sorry. Think I misread that. Now I feel creepy. I promise Iâve only noticed you a normal amount.â Your eyes snap back up to find him wincing slightly, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.
âNo, no, Iâmâ itâs notââ you stammer, trying to recover. âI, uhâ me too, I have too. Noticed you. A normal amount. I⌠I donât know why I just pretended like I didnât.â
Subway Boy leans forward, head dropping down with a genuine laugh that shakes his shoulders, and you canât help but laugh too, out of sheer embarrassment. Heâs beaming when he rights himself again, and it sends a thrill buzzing through you, all the way down to your fingertips still clutched tight to your pencil.
âThat makes me feel better,â he admits. âAt least weâre both creepy.â
As if the universe itself is intervening to save you from any further humiliation, the train shudders back to life and begins to move again. The sigh you breathe is a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.
âThatâs definitely a new record,â you say shyly as you move to shove your things back in your bag. âMaybe the MTA actually looked up what âsoonâ means.â
His focus is tracked over your shoulder when you look up again, and his eyes dance left to right to chase the patterns in the subway tile as you pull into the next station.
âGuess itâs a miracle,â he says softly, not making eye contact.
âMust be,â you murmur back, letting your gaze drop to the floor, unable to hide your smile now.
He doesnât say anything else, and neither do you, but the warm flush stays in your face for the rest of the ride. When the train pulls into the Astor Place station, you and Subway Boy get to your feet simultaneously, so quickly that your bags knock together as you pull them over your shoulders.
âSorry,â you say in unison, immediately sharing an exhaled laugh at the synchronicity of the moment.
The doors slide open and he gestures for you to go first before following after. Itâs a surpriseâ heâs never gotten off at Astor before, and when he doesnât take the option of heading in another direction but instead falls into lockstep next to you, you seize the opportunity.
âAstor Place today, huh?â You hope the observation still falls into the category of ânoticing a normal amountâ.
âYeah, first day of a new gig. What about you? Class?â
You nod. âPretty standard stuff. But we start a new unit today, so thatâs fun.â
âYou in grad school too?â
âYup, MFA in studio art.â You canât help but tease, just a little. âOnly one masterâs degree for me, Iâm such a slacker.â
His eyes squint again as he smiles. âHey, Iâm just glad youâre not, like, eighteen.â
âI thought that too!â You keep talking before you can stop yourself. âI mean, when I was⌠noticing. I distinctly remember thinking, like, please let me not be thirsting over a straight-up child right now.â
âAhh...â Subway Boy trails off, and you can see a faint pink starting to blossom in the apples of his cheeks. âYou were thirsting?â
You canât help but scrunch your nose up slightly, resisting the urge to full-body cringe at your own stupid mouth. âWe are now officially both creepy.â
He fidgets a little with the strap of the dance bag slung over his shoulder. âHopefully Iâm living up to the hype.â
Youâre grateful to reach the art building before you can dig your grave any deeper. You nod your head in the direction of the glass doors as you slow to a stop, and he does, too. âThis is me.â
âItâs actually me, too,â he remarks, glancing up at the building as if to double-check. âBut I have a little bit, so Iâm gonna grab a coffee I think. But it was nice to finally talk to you. Not thatâ sorry, that was weird. Take out the finally. It was good to talk. Meet a fellow starving artist and all.â
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, until you finally work up the courage to ask the question. âDo you have a name?â
âOh!â His eyes widen, more heat-blush coloring his face. âYeah. Park Jimin. Probably couldâve led with that.â
You give him your name, and his voice is like music when he repeats it back.
âWell, good luck in class,â Jimin says with a nod. âAnd hopefully Iâll see you around sometime.â A smile toys at the corner of his mouth, and then he pauses as his words seem to catch up to him. âWell, I mean. I guess I know I will. On theâ trainâ yeah, Iâm gonna go before I say any more stupid things.â
âBye Jimin,â you giggle, and he gives a shy departing wave before he spins on his heel. As he walks away, you canât help but notice the way he drops his gaze and shakes his head, like heâs thoroughly embarrassed by his social performance.
And just like that, Subway Boy has a nameâ one that loops in your head as you float to class, barely feeling your feet touch the floor. Park Jimin. Itâs sweet like him, warm sunshine in your veins as you shoulder open the door to the studio, grab a seat, and start to get set up.
A voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin as Kim Taehyung leans in, having occupied the seat next to you while you were off in la-la land. âKnow what the new unit is?â You start to shake your head, then realize it was a rhetorical question when he waggles his eyebrows and continues. âLife drawing. Ready for some naked people?â
You roll your eyes and grab at the strings of his gray beanie, pulling it down over his fluffy hair and eyes in one swift tug. âBro, we are literally in grad school. Stop acting like a virgin.â
âLike you werenât thinking it too,â he grumbles to himself as he shoves the hat back up his forehead.
You shoot him a look as your professor signals the class to settle and launches in. Itâs the same routine as each unit youâve rotated through in your graduate studio, so you only half-listen, mostly distracted by Taehyung tearing open the paper wrapper of a red heart-shaped lollipop and popping it into his mouth. His latest oral fixation in his millionth attempt to quit vaping.
You lean down to dig into your bag, trying to ignore the sound of hard candy clacking against teeth as you fish out both pencils and charcoal to give yourself options. You pull a couple of each out of their cases, glancing up in an attempt to refocus on the professor, who is still talking.
It takes a second for your brain to process the image in front of you. His shy smile has been replaced with a serious, professional expression, but thereâs no questioning the familiar face, the posture, the silver jewelry, the way he reaches up to run a hand through his hair. Subway Boy Park Jimin is standing in the center of the room, wearing a short black satin dressing gown.
Your jaw goes slack. It feels like it happens in slow motion as you watch Jiminâs strong hands move down to undo the sash at his waist before he shrugs off the flimsy fabric and lets it fall to the floor. And then heâs not wearing anything at all.
You lose your grip entirely on your handful of pencils, and they hit the studio floor with a clatter that certainly feels deafening, each one choosing to roll off in a different direction.
Taehyung glances over at you, brow slightly creased. The lollipop tucked in his cheek impedes his speech slightly, but not enough that you canât understand him. âNow whoâs the virgin?â
You crouch down, praying that maybe you can gather your things unnoticed, but it already feels like every pair of eyes in the room is burning a hole in your back. To his credit, Taehyung at least helps a little, extending a sandaled foot to kick any pencils he can reach over towards you. You scramble around the room to chase after the rest, and you canât bear to look up and see if Jimin is watching you or not. Youâre not sure which would be worse.
Fighting the urge to army crawl out of the room, you grip both hands tightly around your materials as you return to your seat, then tuck everything into the tray of the easel in front of you. Youâre a professional, you tell yourself. Itâs not like itâs your first time drawing someone nude.
Itâs just your first time doing it when you happen to have a crush on them.
But itâs fine. You let out an exhale to ground yourself, then pick up a pencil. Itâs just a body.
You vaguely recall hearing your professor explain that youâd be moving through ten quick-sketch poses to begin with, each held for only a few minutes, before switching to a few longer sessions for the rest of class. As you were too busy chasing your pencils around the room, youâve missed the first pose entirely, and you have to work quickly to get a very rough outline of the second before Jimin moves again at the professorâs instruction.
He switches so fluidly from one pose to the next, and you have so little time, itâs enough to get you out of your head just trying to keep up. You find yourself falling comfortably into a flow state, focused on little more than lines and shapes in front of you and the act of reproducing them on your page. Itâs an exercise you know well, and the repetition of it soothes you.
The studio is quiet, save for the scratching of pencils on paper and the soft classical music your professor has switched on.
By the time you finish sketching the tenth pose, it feels like you can breathe a little easier, and your professor offers Jimin a quick break just as you lean back to admire your work. You do your best to quickly duck behind your easel as he stretches, then reaches for a bottle of water set on a nearby table.
Taehyung removes his sheet of sketches and sets it aside before leaning in, pressing his face against his easel to match yours. âHeâs cute. Bet he gets like, infinite ass-pussy. Just the absolute most.â
âShut up, Tae!â You jerk your foot out to kick the leg of his chair, and a boxy grin stretches over his face as he giggles. You stare daggers back. âYouâre too damn horny today. Like you didnât just get your ass eaten in the supply closet last week.â The rumor had spread through your cohort practically overnightâ probably started by Taehyung himself.
The menace in question shoots you an over-exaggerated wink. âAnd Iâd do it again, too.â
You roll your eyes. âNasty.â
The professor claps to get everyoneâs attention again, and you peer around your easel to watch as Jimin resumes his place at the center of the room. You settle in for the first of a few longer, more detailed sketches, trying desperately to keep your cool about it. But Jimin is unquestionably gorgeous.
He turns to the side for the first pose, arms wrapped around his muscular torso and eyes downcast, fingertips and thumb resting over his neck and chin as if to cradle his own face in his hand. After a long stretch of time where you manage to get most of a sketch done, the professor cues him to move into a second pose, and he faces the back wall, reaching up to drape his arms over each other, crossed wrists resting delicately on the crown of his head.
You could easily see him as a statue carved out of marble, and you try to ignore the flutter of your heartbeat as you attempt to translate his beauty onto your page each time. You have to hold in several sighs as you work on outlining the strong, toned muscles of his back and thighsâ not to mention his perky ass. You canât help but wonder if the rest of the class is struggling silently, too.
Youâre beginning to think you might survive after all when the professor asks Jimin to move again and he does, shaking his body out slightly before reaching to grab a provided stool and shift it to the center of the room. He takes a seat, abdominals flexing as he leans back on his hands and unabashedly lets his legs fall open.
Fuck. You nearly snap your pencil in half.
You try desperately to keep it together as you start your third sketch with unsteady hands. The minutes tick by, and you arenât aware of Taehyungâs eyes on your paper until you hear his stupid whisper again. âWhy arenât you drawing his dick?â
Heâs not wrong. There is a noticeable blank spot at the center of your page. âIâm getting there,â you huff. âWorry about your own sketch, Tae.â
âGirl, you are literally doing detail shading on his legs and he doesnât even have a penis. What is he, a Ken doll?â
You grit your teeth and refuse to dignify Taehyung with a response. Fine. You can do this, you tell yourself. Donât think. Just look and draw. Itâs not a big deal.
With a hard swallow, you trace your eyes down his body, and⌠well, you donât know what you were expecting. Itâs just a soft penis resting limp between his legs, framed by an extremely regular pair of balls. Nothing scary, though you canât quite will the heat back out of your face, canât manage to silence the recurring thought that makes your stomach dropâ itâs cute.
You resist the urge to smack your head against your easel as you finally fill in your sketchâs dick.
You somehow manage to survive the rest of class, but relief still floods your veins when your professor signals for everyone to wrap up what theyâre doing for the day. Jimin starts to come alive again from the fixed pose, tilting his head to one side until something cracks audibly in his neck. You tear your gaze away for fear that his eyes might find yours, and shove everything into your bag as quickly as you can, not even caring what ends up where.
âWhereâs the fire?â Taehyung questions beside you, but you ignore him.
You zip your bag up and sling it over your shoulder, then make a beeline for the exit, keeping your eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Itâs only once the studio door swings shut behind you that you feel like you can breathe again, and you have to keep yourself from outright sprinting to your next class.
~*~
The rest of the day rushes by in an overwhelming blur, your focus entirely shot by the events of the morning. You collapse into a seat on your train home, hugging your bag to your chest, thankful for the first time in your life to not be sharing a subway car with Park Jimin.
When you turn your keys in the lock and stumble in the front door of the apartment, the divine smell of what could only be Yoongiâs cooking immediately hits you full-force. You find him in the kitchen with a towel thrown over his shoulder, searing a large steak in a cast iron pan for what must be a planned date night with Namjoon.
You wrap your arms around his tiny waist from behind as you approach. He responds with his usual greeting: a soft grunt of mild discomfort.
âCan I ask you a question?â you ask, trying to sound as sweet as possible.
âYou just did,â Yoongi notes.
You decide to let his sass go, since you really do need help. âTwo more?â Yoongi hums, somewhat affirmative, and you continue. âI know you work like 47 jobs and never get any time offââ
âSome of us have to pay rent without the luxury of stipends or rich parents, yesââ
âBut is there any way I could⌠maybe possibly encroach upon your date night just this once? Itâs an emergency. I need advice.â
Yoongi sighs, and you shift to peek over his shoulder, arms still wrapped around him as you watch the way he tilts the pan to one side, collecting butter on a spoon to baste over the steak as it cooks. You squish your cheek into his bicep.
âLucky for you,â he begins, his tone relenting, âNamjoonie just called. Theyâve got him working late to prep for the exhibition next month. So date night was canceled anyway.â
âAw, Yoongiiiii.â You squeeze him tight enough that he makes another disgruntled noise, and you finally release your grip. âIâll be your girlfriend tonight.â
He rolls his eyes, but willingly plays along. âThen get the wine, darling?â
You fall into a typical routine: Yoongi pulls a tray of roasted vegetables out of the oven as he lets the steak rest, while you grab a bottle of red at his instruction and fight with the corkscrew in an attempt to get it open. Yoongi watches you, slow-blinking, unamused.
âYou wouldnât last an hour in the restaurant industry.â
âEither help me, or shut up,â you hiss through clenched teeth.
When you finally get settled at your tiny kitchen table, Yoongi nods as if to prompt you while he fills each wine glass with a heavy pour. âLetâs hear it.â
You take a deep breath before launching in and recounting the events of your day, trying not to choke as you simultaneously stuff your face with food. Yoongi eats and listens quietly, no discernible reaction on his face save the occasional lift of his eyebrows. He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest as you finish detailing the way you ran out of the studio the minute class ended.
âAlright. So you saw Subway Boy naked, big deal. Do you know how many dicks Iâve seen?â
You groan. âSpare me the details, please.â
âBut this is what you wanted, right?â You shrug, and he rolls his eyes. âDonât play coy now. Youâve been lusting after this kid for months like a weirdo. So why are you stressed?â
âBecause!â you huff, frustrated. âItâsâ itâs out of order. Itâs not like he chose to get naked in front of me specifically, he obviously just thought it was going to be a roomful of strangers. And it seemed like maybe we could be friends or something, but now I donât know if I should keep pursuing that or just leave him alone. I want to be respectful, but I donât want him to think I took one look at his penis and decided I didnât like him anymore, but then itâs like, how do I hold a conversation when he and I both know I have seen his penis, not only seen but studied it, drawn it, and will continue to, weekly, in detail, from multiple anglesââ
âYou are absolutely overthinking this,â Yoongi laughs into his glass of wine, downing the rest before he continues. âJust get on the fucking train and say hi like a normal, well-adjusted human. This is my advice to you.â
You sigh as you shove a roasted potato in your mouth. âAt least youâre a good cook.â
âIâm a great cook,â Yoongi corrects you as he gets to his feet. âNow help me with these dishes.â
~*~
Yoongiâs advice continues to echo in your brain as you lapse back into something like normalcy for the rest of the week.
When the day of your studio class rolls around again, you find yourself hustling not to miss the train, having hit snooze on your alarm a few too many times that morning. You fly down the subway steps just as the 6 is pulling into the station, and you try to ignore the way your pulse is already quickening, telling yourself itâs just from rushing and nothing else.
Pulling the strap of your bag up on your shoulder, you make it to the platform just as the train doors slide open, and your heart instantly leaps into your throat. There he is, leaning against a pole, overwhelmingly beautiful as ever. Park Jimin.
Heâs scrolling through something on his phone and hasnât yet looked up to notice you, and you find yourself frozen in place, jostled angrily by commuters exiting and boarding the train on either side of you.
Panic floods your veins. Thereâs no time to talk yourself off the ledge, no time to remember Yoongiâs words of wisdom, no time to do anything but make a snap decision. So you do the only thing that feels right: you turn around and sprint back up the stairs and out of the subway station.
The sidewalk is equally bustling, and you try to dodge people while you think through what to do despite the way your head is spinning. You were already going to be cutting it close for time today, and you donât exactly have the disposable income for a taxi or an Uber. As you try to settle your racing thoughts, your eyes alight on a rack of Citibikes.
Fuck it. You donât have a better option. Securing your bag on your back, you quickly scan the code to unlock the bike, then shove your phone in your pocket and swing your leg over the seat.
Youâve never biked in Manhattan traffic before, but it canât be that difficult, you tell yourself. Definitely easier than sharing a subway car with Park Jimin.
Thankfully the street youâre on has a defined bike path, and you do your best to follow the flow of traffic, squeezing your hand brakes to slow to a stop when you hit a red light. Itâs been years since youâve ridden a bike that wasnât stationary, but it comes back to you relatively easily, likeâ well, riding a bike.
When you hit a long stretch of green lights, you do your best to pick up speed, trying to make up for lost time. An approaching red light threatens to slow you down again, and you breathe a sigh of relief as it flips to green at the last possible second.
Just as your front tire rolls into the intersection, a deafening car horn nearly gives you a heart attack. You instinctively slam your grip tight around your brakes, and your bike screeches to a halt so fast youâre almost flung over the handlebars. A taxi just barely veers around you as it plows down the intersecting avenue, and you gasp for air, adrenaline coursing through your system.
Holy shit.
You drop one foot to the ground for leverage as you try to get your pulse back under controlâ youâre pretty sure you just saw your life flash before your eyes. Reality feels a million miles away, but youâre vaguely aware of someone shouting after the car as it speeds down the street.
âFucking asshole!â
It takes a few seconds for you to realize that itâs a familiar voice, and when you do, you whip around as best you can with a bike between your legs.
âYoongi?!â
âOh my god,â Yoongi groans, knuckles blanching as he presses down on his own brakes. âWhat the fuck are you doing?â
You squint, taking in the helmet strapped over his wavy dark hair and the insulated bag tucked into the basket on the front of his bike. âSince when do you deliver food?â
He grimaces, speaking up to be heard over the noise of traffic. âI just do it to make extra money when my hours suck.â
âWhat about the coffee shop?â
He shakes his head. âThey only have me opening Mondays and Wednesdays right now.â
âWhat about the bar?â
âThatâs just weekends, reliably. Sometimes extra evenings, but only if someone calls out.â
âWhat about theââ
âChrist, woman!â Yoongi cuts you off with a growl. âThe foodâs gonna get cold if I have to sit here and run through my entire rĂŠsumĂŠ with you! Are you alright? Why arenât you taking the subway?â
âBecause!â you snap back. âThere is a man on that train whose dick Iâve seen and I⌠I donât know how to handle it! Okay?!â Though you donât intend to raise your voice, it comes out loud enough that a group of high school kids on their phones exchange stifled giggles as they fast-walk around you.
âWell you need to be fucking careful,â Yoongi chides. âBiking in the city is not for the faint of heart. And if Iâm not allowed to give in to my suicidal ideation, youâre not allowed to crack your head open on the pavement all because youâre trying to avoid a penis.â
âFine,â you spit back through gritted teeth. âNow if youâll excuse me, I need to get to class.â You push off the asphalt, legs still shaking a little with excess nerves as you re-find your balance and make your way cautiously through the intersection.
The rush of wind in your ears isnât quite loud enough to drown out Yoongi calling after you as you bike away. âItâs only weird if you make it weird!â
When you somehow make it to Astor Place in one piece, you dock your bike and quickly sprint to the building, well aware that youâre already late. Itâs only once you push the studio door open that you realize how truly frazzled and out of breath you are, and though you keep your gaze fixed on the floor, you can feel every pair of eyes in the room on you. You hold a hand up in an apologetic wave and hurry to find your seat.
Trying to collect yourself, you begin to unpack your materials as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the class. You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear Kim Taehyungâs voice beside you.
âYouâre sweaty. Why are you so sweaty?â
Heâs got an eyebrow cocked when you look over, and you give him the most powerful death glare you can muster, enough that it must actually scare him. âShutting up now,â Taehyung murmurs, voice shaking slightly as he returns to his own sketches, and you huff an exhale as you attempt to catch up to the rest of the group.
Class passes surprisingly quickly once you manage to get your breath back, much in the same way it did the week prior: you do your best to compartmentalize the body in front of you from the human person you have a giant, embarrassing crush on. It goes decently well in the moments where Jimin is frozen in a fixed pose, just lines and curves and light and shadow for you to emulate. During the breaks when he comes alive again, you hide out behind your easel, trying to ignore Taehyungâs inane bullshit and wishing you could disappear entirely.
The second your professor dismisses everyone for the day, you stuff your things back into your bag, hoping to once again speed-walk out of the room.
But despite your better judgment, you canât help yourself this time. As you get to your feet, you glance up to watch Jimin pull his dressing gown back on, only to realize his eyes are already on you.
Youâre distinctly aware of how much of a mess you must look from biking over, and the fact that you almost assuredly smudged charcoal on your face when you reached up absentmindedly to scratch an itch mid-sketch.
Jiminâs plush lips turn up in the smallest of smiles, and the bottom drops out of your stomach.
With a hard swallow, you avert your gaze from his, sling your bag over your shoulder, and quickly make your escape through the studio door. You can feel your pulse pounding in your throat even after heâs out of your sight, and your hands shake like a leaf all the way to your next class.
~*~
That night, sleep evades you until the early hours of the morning, and it feels like youâve only just begun to doze off when the harsh noise of your alarm pulls you up from dreaming. You roll over in bed and glare accusingly at your phone, then shut it off, promptly letting the waves drag you under once more, seminar be damned.
Itâs nearly noon when you finally make it out of bed and stumble into the living room in your sweats. Namjoon is curled up in his reading chair, a feat for someone of his size, surrounded as always by his massive stack of ever-changing âto readâ books. He glances up from the one thatâs open on his lap, clearly surprised to see you.
âNo class?â Namjoonâs voice is rough-edged, like heâs only just woken up himself.
âSkipped,â you grunt. His eyes track you as you cross the room and collapse face-first onto the couch.
âIs this about the penis?â
The cushion muffles your groan. âNot you too.â
You hear the distinct fluttering sound of Namjoon closing his book and shifting in his seat to give you his undivided attention. âSeems like you want to talk about it.â
You turn your head to the side to take in your roommate. âMaybe. Are you gonna give me the same stupid advice your boyfriend did?â
He smiles softly, one dimple flexing at the corner of his mouth. âI can try to be gentler.â
You huff as you flip onto your side, pressing your palms together and slipping them under your cheek. âSounds like youâve got the details already, so please. Enlighten me. Tell me how Iâm supposed to handle seeing this guy naked once a week in the name of art.â
âDidnât William Blake say âArt can never exist without naked beauty displayedâ?â Namjoon poses it like a serious question, brow creased as if in contemplation, and you roll your eyes.
âI donât know, Joon, did he? I said enlighten me, not write me a thesis.â You reach up to grab a couch pillow and fling it in his direction, missing by several inches. âDid Blake have anything in there on dealing with a naked crush and trying not to make it weird as fuck?â
âWell, does he seem weirded out by it?â Namjoon counters, patient as ever.
âI donât know.â You shrug unsurely as you play back your last interaction with Jimin. âHe smiled at me yesterday, at the end of class.â
Namjoon steeples his fingers together, leaning forward slightly in his chair, interest clearly piqued. âOkay, and what did you do?â
You squeeze your eyes shut. âI⌠threw all my shit in my bag and ran out of the room.â When you crack an eye open again, you can see Namjoon trying and failing to keep the smug smile off his face, his dimples giving him away.
âMaybe you could try smiling back next time?â he gently suggests.
You sigh, because you know heâs right. âYou make it sound so easy. Whatâs next? Youâre going to tell me to talk to him?â
He laughs a little. âIâd quote another poet, but I fear you might launch more projectiles at me.â
You narrow your eyes at him. âLetâs hear it, nerd.â
Namjoon clears his throat for dramatic effect before launching into a recitation. ââItâs cool, not tryna put a rush on you / I had to let you know, that I got a crush on you.ââ
Thereâs a wide grin on his face as you sit all the way up. âDid you just quote Biggie Smalls at me?â
âHey, I appreciate all forms of poetry.â
You feign annoyance, but you canât quite hide the smile beneath it, and you get to your feet as Namjoon continues to mumble a verse of Crush on You under his breath. âWhatever. I need to do laundry.â
âOhââ Namjoon pauses to interrupt himself. âLuckyâs closed, by the way.â
Already halfway out of the living room, you whip around again at the mention of the laundromat youâve been exclusive with for the last few years. âWhat?â
He nods solemnly. âMe and Yoongi found out the hard way last week. Theyâre putting in an Equinox.â
Your face twists in disgust. âA stupid bougie gym?! Youâve got to be kidding me. Where am I supposed to wash my fucking clothes?â
âWe found a place a few blocks up. Quick Clean, or something like that.â Namjoon shifts to dig his phone out of his pocket. âIâll send you the address. Itâs not bad, just a little more expensive.â
âThis is such bullshit,â you groan as you stomp back into your bedroom, the day already off to a terrible start.
In a gentrification-induced rage, you angrily shove the contents of your overflowing laundry hamper into the giant yellow IKEA bag hung up in your closet, just barely managing to fit it all. Glancing at the mirror on the back of the door, you briefly consider changing out of your sweats, or at the very least doing something with your hair, but you shrug it offâ itâs not like youâre trying to impress anyone at the damn laundromat.
You grab your headphones off your desk and sling them around your neck, double-check that your sketchbook is still tucked into your bag, then lug everything out to the front hallway. You pull your slides off the shoe rack and slip your socked feet into them.
âBye, nerd!â you call over your shoulder to Namjoon before the front door slams shut behind you.
By the time you make it to the weird new laundromat, youâre sweaty and pissed off. You knew the walk to Luckyâs by heart, but you had to do this one while looking down at your phone GPS and trying not to get hit by a car. Not an easy feat while carrying every article of clothing you own over one shoulder.
You miss the way the nice old man who owned Luckyâs would greet you warmly and sneak you a cup of coffee from his pot in the back, the way his cat would roll over on the front counter for belly rubs, the way there was always a deeply entertaining telenovela playing on the ancient tiny TV.
The stupid Quick Clean has none of these things, just a shitty pile of magazines in the seating area and weirdly sticky floors. You slam into the front door a little harder than is necessary to push it open, the bell tinkling violently overhead as you enter. The only compliment you can give the place is that itâs relatively dead, save for a couple people on their phones or half-asleep in chairs as they wait on their stuff, and two guys in the corner loading armfuls of wet clothes into a pair of dryers.
You grab a machine a respectful distance away from them and swing the door open when a laugh thatâs nearly musical gives you pause. Unable to shake a sense of familiarity, you glance over at your neighbors again, just in time to see one of them reach up to run a hand through his honey blonde hair.
Your IKEA bag hits the sticky floor with an audible thud as panic kickstarts your heart.
This isnât fucking happening. Of all the laundromats in New York City, you did not just manage to stumble into the one currently being used by Park Jimin.
But even before you can catch a glimpse of his profile, youâre already certain it canât be anyone else. Youâve spent too much time familiarizing yourself with the slope of his neck, the definition of his forearms, his dainty hands. Thereâs no mistaking them, adorned today with several silver rings that catch the dim fluorescent light as he grabs more of his clothes from the washer.
The desperate need to turn around and run rises up in your chest, just as before, but this time you steel yourself. You canât keep running away foreverâ particularly not when you pulled on your last clean pair of underwear this morning.
A rush of heat floods your face at the thought of the many pairs of underwear in your bag that will soon be sent spinning around this washing machine, where Jimin could easily see, but then it occurs to you that you have seen his penis. Maybe the trade-off will put you on slightly more equal footing.
But you really donât need to be thinking about Park Jiminâs penis in this laundromat right now.
Shaking your head slightly to try and banish the thought, you set about your laundry routine, trying not to drop any unmentionables on the floor when you dump the contents of your tote into the washer. You dig quarters out of your bag and slot them into the machine, then press the button to start the cycle.
With a final exhale to steady yourself, you turn to look over your shoulder again, only to find Jimin leaning up against the empty dryer next to his, unabashedly watching you with a small smile on his face.
It occurs to you now that you couldnât have put less effort into your appearance if you tried, and youâre suddenly hyper-aware of every random stain on your sweatpants and your extremely fashionable socks and slides combination. Jiminâs just in a white t-shirt and a pair of distressed jeans today, but literally everything looks fresh off the runway on him. You suppress the urge to walk out the door and go lay down in traffic, and instead take Namjoonâs advice: you smile back and even lift your hand in a shy wave.
You drop into an empty chair across from your machine and watch as Jimin starts to cross the room to join you, his eyes never leaving yours. Before he can make it, you suddenly become aware of someone else sliding into the seat beside you.
âYou didnât tell me she was cute, Jimin-ah!â
Eyes wide, you turn to see Jiminâs friend sprawled out next to you, one arm draped lazily over the back of your chair. His wavy dark hair peeks out from under a lime green beanie, and heâs swimming in an oversized long sleeve tucked into baggy pants, cinched tight at the waist with a Gucci belt.
âJung Hoseok,â he gives you a nod. âFriends call me Hobi. You can call me whatever you like.â The way his wide smile pulls his mouth heart-shaped makes you giggle a little, slightly dazed by whatever the fuck is happening right now.
You hear Jimin sigh as he takes the open seat on your other side. âPlease ignore Hoseokâs tendency to come on way too strong. If it makes you feel any better, heâs as gay as they come.â
Hoseok flicks his wrist just so. âGuilty as charged.â
âOh, itâs okay,â you say with a shrug, your gaze flitting from Jimin to Hoseok and back again. âI have two gay roommates, so.â
Hoseok hums, clearly interested. âGay together or gay separately?â
âGay together.â
He narrows his eyes. âOpen to a third?â
You canât help but laugh at the unexpected question. âUh, Iâd have to ask.â
He looks like heâs going to say more, but Jimin interjects. âHoseokâ can we get a minute?â
Hoseokâs lips pull together, fish-like, and he nods as he gets to his feet. âSay no more. Iâll just, uhâŚâ He fumbles, looking around for something to do, then crosses the room to take the open seat next to the sad pile of magazines. ââŚdo a little light reading.â He picks up one at the top of the stack, holding it up for you both to witness. âOh look, the queen died!â
You bite down on your bottom lip to suppress another laugh, but Jiminâs face is surprisingly serious when you look back at him. âI just want to say one thing,â he murmurs, voice low, âand then Iâll leave you alone.â
Nerves settle in the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight. âJimin,â you start, and when he opens his mouth to keep talking, you blurt out the first thing you can think of.
âIâm sorry,â you say in unison, and thereâs a beat where you both blink, equally taken aback by the otherâs apology. Itâs quiet apart from the rumble of the laundry machines and the distinct sound of Hoseok smacking the magazine over his mouth, clearly more invested in your plot line.
You break the silence first. âWait, why are you sorry?â
Jiminâs eyes drop down to the floor, one black boot toeing nervously at the tile. âI figured you were upset with me because I didnât warn you.â
Your eyes widen in surprise when you play your initial conversation back. âOh my godâ when I said graduate studio art, you⌠you knew.â
He nods, somewhat remorseful. âI was kind of hoping that maybe it would be a different class, but. Yeah. I figured. Iâm really sorry, I shouldâveââ
âNo, no,â you interrupt. âI get it. Iâm not mad, obviously I didnât even put it together until right now.â You pause for a second and canât help but smile a little. âAnd, I mean, how do you just casually work that into your first conversation with someone? âGreat talking to you, ready to see my dick in five minutes?ââ
Jiminâs head tips back when he laughs, his cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink. âRight.â
You can feel your own face grow hot as you realize what youâve just said. âGod, sorry, I didnât mean toâ clearly I donât know how to handle this. Thatâs why I wanted to apologize, for avoiding you and being weird.â You twist your hands uncomfortably in your lap. âIâve just never been in this situation before, and I wasnât sure if youâd still want to talk given⌠theâŚâ Every cell in your body screams at you not to say the word âdickâ again. âYeah. I thought it might be easier to keep my distance. Keep it separate.â
Jiminâs eyes drift back up to find yours, and his casual beauty is so stunning, itâs enough to knock the air out of your lungs. He shrugs softly. âI mean, maybe it would be. But I donât want to.â
âGreat,â you manage a laugh, still breathless. âBecause I nearly died on a Citibike the day I didnât take the subway.â
He laughs, too. âNot gonna lie, I missed seeing you on the train.â Youâre not expecting it when he extends a hand out. âFriends?â
You realize belatedly that heâs offering a handshake, and you gently take his hand in yours. His skin is soft and warm, a contrast to the cool metal of his rings that press into your palm as he squeezes.
âFriends,â you echo with a smile, squeezing back.
Thereâs a sudden thump and a cackle as Hoseok falls out of his chair with a peal of laughter. âYou are so fucking weird, Jimin-ah!â he gasps from his spot on the floor. âWho shakes hands?!â
The two of them keep you more than entertained until the buzzers on their dryers sound a second apart from each other. You learn that Hoseok and Jimin are roommates, that they met as dance majors in their undergrad program, and that Hoseok now works as an adjunct instructor and freelance choreographer.
âBecause some of us decided we wanted to actually make money instead of digging ourselves further into debt,â he explains with a sly grin and smack delivered to the back of Jiminâs head.
You watch as they meticulously fold, Hoseok regularly leaning over to redo Jiminâs work and chide him about wrinkles, and then they stack the clean laundry back into their bags and head for the exit.
âBye, new friend!â Hoseok calls as he maneuvers the door open with his foot, and Jimin pauses at the threshold, the bell overhead tinkling gently.
âSo⌠guess Iâll see you on the train?â he asks, like heâs still a little unsure, and your heartbeat flutters.
âGuess so.â
âCool.â He gives you one last soft smile before he disappears after Hoseok. The bell sounds again when the door shuts behind him, as if to snap you back to reality.
The floating feeling in your stomach doesnât quite dissipate even long after Jimin has left the laundromat. While you wait on your clothes, you flip to a blank page in your sketchbook and start on something new: the outline of a hand extended in mid-air, rings glinting like an offered promise.
~*~
The next week, Jimin is waiting for you on your morning subway ride, the dance bag that he usually keeps tucked between his legs set on the bench next to him. When he sees you step through the train doors at 51st, you watch him reach over to swing the bag down to its rightful place on the floor, freeing up the space. An open invitation.
You canât help but feel a little shy as you sink down next to him and murmur your thanks. Thereâs something about being this close to him that just makes your mind go blank, puts you at a loss for words entirely.
To your surprise, he doesnât try to strike up conversation either. Instead he plucks one fancy bluetooth earbud out of his ear, gives it a diplomatic swipe across the fabric of his joggers, then holds it up, pinched between his fingers in front of you.
Another invitation, you realize dumbly.
The corner of your mouth turns up as you pluck the bud out of his hand and press it into your own ear. The music that must have paused itself upon the earbudâs removal resumes, and your smile grows when Jimin quickly unlocks his phone to restart the song from the beginning.
An acoustic guitar and a light, pretty voice fill your ear, underscored by a gentle yet driving beat, not unlike the rumble of the train beneath your feet. Itâs like the rest of the world fades away to nothing as you stare down at his sneakers next to your shoes, hyper-aware of the mere inch or two of space between you in this moment.
As if to prove your point, the train comes to a sharp stop, enough to make you slide a little on the bench and then youâre suddenly not just close but touching, all the way down, an unbroken line from shoulder to hip to knee.
When you look over in surprise, Jimin is already looking back at you. You swear you can feel warmth radiating out from him at every point where your bodies press together.
After another dazed moment, you come to your senses enough to scoot over, breaking the contact with an embarrassed laugh as you feel your face grow hot.
Your gaze drifts back down to the floor, only to snap up again at another brush of contact, this one not initiated by you or by the motion of the train. Instead, you realize Jimin has spread his legs an inch wider to purposefully touch his knee to yours again and leave it there. You blink softly as you look over at him, but heâs staring firmly out the window of the subway car now, smiling with just his eyes.
For the rest of the ride, you think of little else but Jiminâs knee pressed against yours and the pretty pink flush in his cheeks.
You stay in comfortable silence, music floating in your ears as you exit the train at Astor Place together, until you reach the studio, where you finally return the borrowed earbud. He smiles as he tucks them both back into the case, then pushes open the door and gestures for you to enter first.
Jimin shoots you a final look before your paths diverge, and you sink into your seat with a small, dreamy sigh. Your bliss is short-lived when you hear Taehyungâs voice over your shoulder.
âThat was fast.â
You whip around to shoot him a look. âWhat was fast?â
He makes a face, like itâs obvious. âYouâre already banging the model and itâs been, what, two weeks?â
Taehyungâs just close enough that you can lean forward and smack him on the arm, and he hisses in a way that has to be an exaggeration. Thankfully he seems to take the hint, and manages to actually keep his mouth shut as the professor commands everyoneâs attention at the center of the room.
When Jimin emerges in the usual black satin, you try to keep your composure, but you canât ignore the chill that dots up your spine when he lets the fabric fall to the floor.
Nevertheless, you sink into the routine of class, the thrill of Jiminâs naked body now equal parts familiar and exhilarating. The only difference is that today, when youâre dismissed, you make no effort to quickly pack up. You instead purposefully take your time, adding a few extra details to your last sketch before you finally start putting things away. Your gaze flickers up distractedly to see Jimin pulling his dressing gown back over his body as he moves to close the distance between you.
âHi,â he says simply when he reaches your easel, and you smile.
âHi.â
âSorry, is, uhâ is it okay that I talk to you, when Iâmââ He gestures vaguely to his lower half with one hand, using the other to keep himself covered.
You swallow hard at the thin layer of fabric and everything you know lies beneath it. âYeah, itâs okay,â you say, hating how breathless you sound.
âWhen are you done with classes today?â
It takes an extra second for you to remember your own schedule. âUh, six.â
Jimin fidgets with the satin material in his hands, clearly a little uncomfortable. Or maybe nervous. âWould you⌠want to get dinner after? With me?â
Your stomach flutters as you nod. âYeah, yes. Iâd like that.â
~*~
When you emerge from your last class, you find Jimin waiting for you on Astor Place, and youâre not expecting it when he greets you with a single question: âDo you like sushi?â You answer affirmatively, and he nods over his shoulder. âThen letâs walk this way.â
You end up tucked into two seats at a place youâve never been to before, where rolls and other plates of food zip past you on a steadily moving conveyor belt. Jimin shows you how to pop the plates out from their protective domes, and you gather a small feast of options on the table between you to share.
âSo,â you start with a nervous smile, chopsticks hovering in midair. âCan I ask the obvious question?â
He quirks an eyebrow, intrigued. âWhatâs that?â
âWhat made you decide to nude model?â The words alone send fresh waves of heat and nerves through you, sparkling in your chest. âOr have you done it before?â
âI havenât,â Jimin confirms with a shake of his head, then he pops a piece of sushi in his mouth as if to buy himself time. He chews, bringing a hand up as he speaks with his mouth still half-full. âDo you want the real answer?â
You nod, and his adamâs apple jerks as he swallows. Thereâs a look on his face like he isnât quite sure what to say, and then he exhales a weighty sigh. âIâve struggled with my body for a really long time. Especially in undergrad.â
Your eyes widen slightlyâ you werenât expecting such a serious response.
âDance doesnât typically have the best culture for that to begin with,â he continues, âand Iâd spend literally all day staring at myself in a mirror, so I would just⌠pick myself apart. Always convinced I wasnât good enough, that I needed to lose more weight, always.â
The thought of it makes your heart ache, but you let him talk.
âIâm through the worst of it now, so please donât feel like you need to be worried. But I have some friends whoâve done this kind of thing before and it seemed like, I donât know, a good challenge?â His brow creases, contemplative. âI really love art, so I thought maybe if I did it, I might be able to see my body in a new way, through the eyes of other people. Of artists.â He pauses, then nods, like heâs said his piece.
It takes you a second to respond. âThatâs⌠beautiful, Jimin.â
He looks down, clearly a little uncomfortable. âSorry if that was too heavy.â
âI can take it,â you say softly, and itâs enough to make him glance back up in surprise. âThank you for telling me.â
A faint color floods his face. âThanks for listening.â
You eat in a silence thatâs oddly comfortable, and when you both reach for the same piece of sushi and end up knocking chopsticks together, he lets you have it, picking up the thread of conversation again as he smiles. âWhat got you into art?â
You make a face, chased by an unsure shrug. âIs it bad if I say itâs the only thing I feel like Iâm good at?â
Jimin laughs a little. âI donât know that I believe you.â
âI mean,â you lean back in your seat. âMaybe not the only thing, but Iâve just never been able to see myself doing anything else. Iâm not cut out for the corporate life, as much as my parents wish I was. Artâs always been the thing that I go to in my free time. When Iâm feeling so much that itâs overwhelming, or so numb that itâs like I canât feel anything, the act of creating something just⌠brings me back to center again.â You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. âItâs an outlet, I guess.â
âWell, if it helps, youâre very good at it.â
âThanks,â you say with a small smile. âBut itâs not even about being good, at least not to me. Maybe it sounds weird, but I donât really have any interest in being the best. Itâs art, so itâs all subjective anyway. I just wanna make stuff.â
Jimin smirks as he adds another empty plate to the growing stack in front of you, tongue poking briefly at the inside of his cheek before he speaks. âI could stand to be more like you.â
âYour turn,â you shoot back. âWhy dance?â
At this, he actually brings a hand up to cover his face, and his voice is muffled under his palm when he responds. âI can tell you exactly why, but itâs embarrassing.â
You shift a little in your chair to get a better look at him. âDonât be embarrassed! Itâs not like Iââ you cut yourself off before you can very obviously finish the sentence with âhavenât seen your dickâ, and you shove a piece of sushi in your mouth to shut yourself up, so fast you nearly choke.
Jimin laughs loudly into his hands, and then youâre laughing too, dropping your head down on the table to try and chew your food without asphyxiating.
âOkay, okay,â he gasps when he can finally manage to take a breath in. âIâll tell you.â
He sets his chopsticks down, overly serious. âWhen I was little, I was obsessed with Titanic. Specifically the scene where they dance together, and Rose rises up on her toes in front of everyone.â There are practically stars in his eyes as he recounts the moment, and you canât bear to cut him off. âI just thought she was so beautiful, and I wanted to be like that. Almost broke my toes trying to go en pointe barefoot like an idiot.â
Youâre silent for a moment, and thereâs a flicker of panic in Jiminâs face, like heâs worried he overshared. âI have to be honest,â you say softly. âIâve never seen Titanic.â
His eyes nearly pop out of his head. âWhat?!â
Already expecting the reaction, you grimace and nod. âI know, I know. Everyone gets mad at me for it. Go ahead.â
Jiminâs eyes flit from your face to the remaining piece of sushi on the plate between you, then back again. âI mean, we can go solve this problem right now, if you want.â He pauses, then admits with a giggle, âI have it on DVD.â
You shrug, trying to act casual despite the way your pulse has started to quicken. âThey canceled my morning seminar for tomorrow, so Iâm down.â
He leans forward to steal the last piece of sushi with a smug smile. âThen letâs get out of here.â
Itâs a short train ride back to Jiminâs place, and you make it in the front door just in time to see Hoseok slipping out of what looks to be his bedroom. You barely process him as the same personâ tonight his dark hair is swept off his forehead, and heâs in nice dress pants and a white button-down, unbuttoned just enough to display the delicate spread of his collarbone.
âHi kids!â he calls in greeting, and you wave back as you kick your shoes off.
Hoseok crosses to grab a mirrored pair of aviators and his keys off the table by the front door. âDaddyâs going out. You two have fun, donât do anything I wouldnât do.â He pauses for a moment, like heâs waiting for a joke to land, then cracks a grin. âBy which I obviously mean do whatever the fuck you want.â
As Hoseok pulls the door shut behind him, you follow Jimin into the living room, where you perch nervously on the edge of the couch while he disappears into the kitchen. âDo you like prosecco?â he asks, raising his voice slightly to be heard.
âUh, I think so,â you say unsurely. âI donât think I ever developed enough of a palette to have wine preferences.â
âWhite and sparkling?â
âSounds good,â you respond, and then you hear the distinct noise of a cork popping before he returns with a bottle and two glasses in hand. He sets everything on the coffee table as he takes a seat next to you, then leans forward to fill both glasses nearly to the brim.
Jiminâs face flushes when you giggle softly at the pour. âSorryâ I like to drink. You donât have to finish it all.â You shrug and take a healthy pull from your glass. Itâs crisp and light, with little bubbles that fizz and pop all the way down.Â
âHoseok calls me a lush,â he admits with a shy laugh as he picks up his own drink and turns to face you, sitting back against the arm of the couch. You shift to mirror him, curling your socked feet up under you. He takes a sip, then seems to think better of it, leaning forward to set his glass down on the table again. âI did want to tell you something. A couple of things, I guess.â
The sentence makes your stomach twist, and you try your best to ignore it. âWhatâs up?â
Jiminâs lips press together for a moment, as if heâs trying to figure out how to word whatever heâs about to say. âIâm not, like, trying to be presumptuous by telling you this but I justâ I donât want it to go unsaid and then come up later and be a whole big thing, so. I just want you to know that Hoseok is my ex.â
Your eyes widen in surprise. Youâre not sure what you were expecting, but certainly not that.
âWe dated freshman year of undergrad, for⌠maybe three months? It was the kind of thing where I knew I was bi in high school but was too scared to act on it, so when I moved to New York I just, like, dated the first gay person I met? Which was probably a little shitty of me. We quickly realized we work much better as friends, and it was a very mutual thing. No hard feelings.â
You nod slowly, trying to keep up. âAnd youâve lived together since then?â
âNo, no,â Jimin replies quickly, and he nearly grimaces as he continues. âAt the end of last semester, I, uh⌠I got out of a pretty bad long-term relationship.â The way he says it makes your heart sink a little. âAnd she and I lived together, so Hoseok was extremely gracious and offered to take me in.â
He reaches for his glass of wine again, then pauses with it halfway to his mouth. âIdeally the number of exes Iâd be living with would be zero, but. You know. This is definitely the better option, at least until I can figure out what comes next.â
A pause settles between you while he takes a long drink and you try to process all this new information. âIâm sorry about the breakup,â you say softly, and he shakes his head as he swallows.
âDonât be. It was a very good thing. Long overdue.â
âWell,â you correct yourself, the corners of your mouth pulling up. âThen Iâm sorry that it took so long.â
At this, he smiles back. âMe fuckinâ too.â
After one more sip, Jimin sets his wine back down on the coffee table, then rolls off the couchâ surprisingly gracefulâ to retrieve Titanic from the small collection of movies lined up on the shelf beneath the TV.
âReady?â
âThis better have a happy ending,â you murmur over the edge of your wine glass. Jimin laughs so hard he nearly tips over.
He settles next to you again as the movie starts, painted pretty in the blue glow of the TV, and you try your best to watch the movie, but itâs hard to keep your eyes off him. Partway through you notice him grab a pillow off the back of the couch and hug both of his arms around it, curling up small.
Cute, you canât help but think to yourself, and you can feel heat settle in your face as you try to refocus on the story.
When you reach the dancing scene Jimin sits up a little, lips parting slightly, that same starry look in his eyes as when he explained it initially. The mental image of a younger version of him equally enraptured by the moment nearly makes your chest cave in.
The movie goes on, and youâre draining the last of your second glass of wine when out of the corner of your eye, you see Jiminâs eyes go wide. Jack and Rose are closely examining a rare diamond necklace, and you donât understand what he could be reacting to until Kate Winslet delivers her next line.
âJack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls.â
Your eyes go just as wide as Jiminâs, and you let out a laugh of disbelief thatâs nearly a scream. âOh my fucking god, Park Jimin! You did this on purpose!â
âI swear, I didnât! I didnât even think about that part until right now!â He shakes his head desperately as he gasps for air, and he doubles over with his own laughter, rolling right off the couch, arms still clutched tightly around his pillow.
âI literally cannot believe this.â You dissolve into giggles as you sink to your knees on the floor beside him, close to tears.
It takes time for you both to recover, but Jimin eventually manages to pull himself back up to sitting, shoulders still shaking slightly with laughter. He lets the pillow drop to the floor and presses both of his palms down into it as he leans towards you. âBut hey, maybe thatâs why I like you.â
Heâs so magnetic, so beautiful, you canât help but lean in, too. âYou like me?â
Thereâs a warm glow of color in his cheeks, and youâre not sure if you can blame it entirely on the wine. âI do.â
Your lingering smile slowly starts to soften, and now your heart feels like it might pound out of your chest. âSo what, youâre Rose and Iâm Jack?â
His gaze drops to your mouth, his voice barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, âUh-huhâ. Imaginary violins swell in your head as you surge forward to close the distance and press your lips to his.
Jiminâs lips are soft and warm, and your head spins as you sit up on your knees and lean into the kiss. While his mouth moves gently against yours, his palms press to the small of your back, and the heat of his hands radiates through the thin fabric of your shirt. You wrap your arms over his shoulders, partially for balance and partially in an attempt to pull him closer to you.
He tilts his head, and you whimper against him when you feel his tongue trace delicately over your bottom lip. He returns a breathy noise back as he licks slowly into your mouth, like heâs taking his time, like heâs not in any rush.
Even though you can feel your arousal starting to build, heavy in your gut and slick between your thighs, you realize: you want him to take his time with you.
Youâre surprised at the loss when he suddenly leans back, just enough to break the kiss, still keeping you held close. âIs it, umââ he clears his throat, then tries again. âI donât⌠want to go any further. Than this. At least not tonight. Is that okay?â
Your eyes search his, and youâre a little breathless when you manage to get the words out. âYeah. Yeah, of course. Iâm good with that. With whatever you want.â
âOkay.â You exhale a laugh when he reaches over to find the remote on the coffee table and pause the movie. âI want to keep kissing you, if thatâs alright.â
âYes, please,â you murmur against his lips.
Jimin shifts a little, and you follow his lead, letting him tip you backwards onto the floor, your arms still looped around his neck, one hand now tangling in his honey blonde hair. He drops a forearm down to the carpet beside you, his other hand coming to rest at the curve of your waist, knees bracketing your hips as he covers your body with his.
He alternates between sucking on your lower lip and gentle passes of his tongue into your mouth, the hand on your waist tracing a lazy path down to your hip and back up again. Something pulled tight inside you starts to slowly unwind, blooming open as you sink into the rhythm, into him.
Itâs been such a long time since youâve just kissed someone like this, without it feeling like part of a race to get naked. And youâve never been kissed like this in your lifeâ so soft, so attentive. Itâs enough to make you dizzy, even with your back pressed flat to the floor.
You lose track of how much time passes as you trade open-mouthed kisses on Jiminâs living room carpet, until he finally pulls away again. Still in a daze, you shift the hand in his hair to gently cup his face, not quite able to believe that heâs really real.
âGod,â Jimin breathes, laughing quietly to himself. âI really like you.â
You smile as you blink up at him. âI like you too, Jimin.âÂ
Rolling over, he drops down onto the floor next to you with a blissed-out sigh. He stretches his arms overhead, spine arching like a cat, then lifts up again to glance back at you. âDo you want more wine? âCause weâre only like halfway done. This movie is stupid long.â
âI could go for more,â you answer with a shrug, still smiling.
In one swift move, Jimin flips his legs over his head and effortlessly somersaults up to standing, and your eyes go wide. âHow do you fucking do that?!â
âIâm a trained professional!â he calls over his shoulder as he sashays into the kitchen.
You giggle a little. âI would break every bone in my body.â
Heâs humming prettily to himself, and you hear the sound of the fridge opening and closing, followed by the pop of another bottle being uncorked. You pull yourself back onto the couch as he rejoins you and pours fresh wine into both glasses, and a sudden curiosity urges you to ask a question. âIs Titanic your favorite movie?â
Jimin shakes his head, but says nothing, and the strange hesitant expression that flashes over his face just makes you that much more intrigued.
âLetâs hear it.â
His eyes flit over to you, then back to the wine glasses. âYouâll laugh.â
âI wonât!â you exclaim, lifting a hand when he scrunches up his nose, doubtful. âPromise.â
With a reluctant sigh, Jimin sets the bottle back down on the table, staring straight ahead as he admits, âItâs The Notebook.â
You press your lips together, trying desperately to keep your mouth in a straight line. At least you manage not to laugh. âIâ wow. Really?â
He nods like the reaction is expected, picking up his wine glass and settling back against the couch cushions. âI donât know, thereâs just something about it. Itâs comforting, to me.â
âYouâre such a romantic,â you murmur, gently nudging his thigh with your foot until you coax a smile out of him.
âYou know what?â Jiminâs voice is thoughtful now, more self-assured. âI am.â He takes a sip of his drink before he continues. âFor a long time I didnât want to be. Or thought that I couldnât be. I used to always try to be so. I donât know. Masculine, I guess. I think some of it had to do with denying my sexuality, but even once I got around to accepting that, there was still this part of me that would just never allow myself to be⌠soft.â
His gaze drops down to the wine in his glass, and you sit up, tucking your legs underneath you to scoot closer to him until youâre side by side. âI like you soft,â you say simply, and he looks over at you, still smiling.
âIf we watch The Notebook I will cry.â
âThatâs okay.â You lean into him to seek a kiss, made sweet from the wine. He hums a little against your lips before you pull back. âSame time next week?â
~*~
Just like that, you fall into a regular routine with Jimin: sharing his headphones on the morning train, sketching out the shape of his body in studio, then picking up takeout and wine to bring back to his place and split over a movie. As predicted, The Notebook does make him cry, and when you show him Kimi no Na wa the week after, hot tears stream down your face at the final scene, the way they always do.
He takes your head in his hands as the credits roll, his thumbs swiping at errant tears on your cheeks. You chase a sniffle with an embarrassed laugh. âOkay. Weâre even now.â
On your fourth movie night, partway into Moulin Rouge, something emboldens you when you see Jimin reach for his usual couch pillow. You lean over and gently pry it out of his grip, then shift to tuck yourself into his side and curl your legs up in his lap instead.
âBetter?â
âMm-hmmâ, he murmurs as he ducks down to nuzzle against your cheek. âYouâre warm.â
These nights end the same way each time: you ride the train home with a wine-soaked buzz in your brain and flushed, kiss-bitten lips, your fingertips brushing over your own mouth at the memory of his.
Once a week quickly turns into more. The two of you coordinate laundromat afternoons where you listen to music together as you wait for your clothes. You usually end up drawing to pass the time, and sometimes Jimin dozes off, head tipping over onto your shoulder so gently that you canât help but smile down at your sketchbook.
At his request, you help him dye his hair pink in his tiny apartment bathroom, and it somehow suits him just as well as honey blonde. You both get dizzy from laughter and cleaning product fumes as you desperately try to scrub the bubblegum stains out of the tile before Hoseok comes home.
When you finally introduce Jimin to your roommates, the four of you crammed all-too formally around the kitchen table over Yoongiâs cooking, the interaction feels like a cross between a job interview and a prom date meeting your parents. You choke on a piece of chicken that you nearly inhale when Namjoon offhandedly refers to Jimin as Subway Boy, and Yoongi smiles wide enough to show his gums as he gladly recounts your months-long crush in great detail while you bury your burning face in your arms.
But Jimin takes it in stride, laughs into your mouth as he kisses you over the sink while the two of you wash the dishes.
âSubway Boy, huh?â
âI will drown you,â you murmur as you pull away, brandishing the spray hose like a threat.
Itâs easy and slow. This blossoming something, a nameless but undeniable spark, the calm comfort of Jiminâs arms wrapped around your waist, his fingers intertwined with yours, his head dropped down on your shoulder.
~*~
You dig your phone out of your pocket as you shoulder open the door to the dance building, pulling up the text from Jimin to double-check his practice room number. A train delay made you slightly later than your agreed-upon time, but you know the takeout bag of Indian food dangling over your wrist will easily earn you his forgiveness.
It doesnât surprise you that heâs the only one left in the room when you find it, nor that heâs still reviewing the choreography with an expression of severe focus. You hover in the doorway, waiting for him to look up, but heâs entirely concentrated on his own reflection in the mirror.
His movements alternate between delicate and powerful, explosive and restrained, and you have to hold in an outright gasp when he launches his body into an aerial and lands it effortlessly. But then his feet falter in a split second of hesitation, and you can see his expression tighten, clearly frustrated.
âFuck,â he mutters to himself as he rubs a hand over his face, and he doesnât even try to keep going with the rest of the dance. You take the opportunity to step a few more paces into the room, and his eyes jump to you in the mirror.
âHi,â you say softly, suddenly a little nervous to be intruding on the moment. The corner of Jiminâs mouth turns up, but his eyes seem far away, and you can tell heâs still raging at himself in his mind.
âHi, sorry,â he sighs. âI justâ canât get this. Itâs like my body isnât doing what I tell it to.â
âYou need food.â You try to say it gently as you cross the room, holding up the smiley-face adorned plastic takeout bag. âAnd perhaps the enigmatic charm of Rachel McAdams.â
This seems to shake him out of his thoughts, at least a little. âI do like her.â He steps close enough to slip his arms around your waist and pull your body flush against his. Sweat glistens on his collarbone in the dim practice room lighting. âBut I like you more.â
You roll your eyes as you playfully smack a hand against his solid chest. âStop lying.â
ââM not,â he insists as he presses a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. âRachel McAdams has never once brought me masala dosa.â You giggle despite yourself, and when his lips drop down to your neck, itâs enough to make your breath hitch.
A spark ignites in your chest that doesnât go out, not on the subway ride back to your apartment, not through dinner and a movie, and certainly not once youâre most of the way through the second bottle of wine. As the credits start to roll, you waste no time, turning in Jiminâs lap so you can properly straddle him and take his face in your hands.
You trade decadent, easy kisses, and Jiminâs hands settle at the small of your back, his thumbs massaging gentle circles into your hips. A shiver rolls up your spine when he shifts a little and you realize you can feel a growing bulge through the fabric of his joggers, pressed firm against your thigh. He breathes a soft sound into your mouth as his tongue slides over yours, and youâre so overwhelmed, you barely register the sound of keys in the lock or the front door opening.
Itâs Jimin who reacts first, turning his head to break the kiss as his cheeks flood with color, and you glance over your shoulder just in time to see Yoongi storm past, heading for his room. He lifts a hand up to his face to shield you from view as he goes.
âDonât stop on my account!â Yoongiâs voice is dripping with derision. âBy all means, continue fucking on our shared furniture!â
âWeâre fully clothed, asshole!â you snap in response as Yoongi slams the bedroom door behind him, hard enough that it rattles in the frame.
When you look back down at Jimin, his face is twisted in an expression you take to be embarrassment. You drop your head down on his shoulder with a frustrated groan, the moment successfully killed.
âDo youâŚâ you pause, turning your head to the side but continuing to ask your question into the fabric of his shirt. âWe could go to my room, for more privacy, if you want?â
He hums his agreement, and when you peel yourself off the couch and head for your room, he follows. You spin back around to face him in the doorway, so fast he nearly knocks into you.
You brace your hands on the doorframe as you survey him. âWe really donât have to⌠do anything, if you donât want to. We can just talk.â
Jimin nods, and you step aside to let him enter first, pulling the door closed behind you as you follow. He takes a few tentative steps into the room, and you walk past him to drop down onto the floor next to your bed, then pat the carpet to encourage him to join. Thereâs a flash of something over his face, and then he sinks down beside you. Itâs only now that you realize how quiet heâs gotten.
âWhat is it?â you ask, suddenly a little nervous.
He stares down at the soles of his feet, pressed into each other, his knees tipped open like butterfly wings. âDoes it make you feel bad? That weâre notââ
âNo,â you answer immediately, and the honesty of it resonates in your chest.
âI know weâve been hanging out for a while,â he continues, voice low. âAnd I do want to, you know. Hook up.â
âJimin,â you lean forward to place both of your hands over one of his, settled atop his knee. âYou donât have to explain anything to me. When you want to, I want to. But I like everything weâve been doing, too. Itâs not like weâre not⌠intimate.â
His gaze flits up from the floor to meet yours. âI donât want you to think that I donât want you.â
You close your fingers around his hand, pulling it off his leg and up to your face so you can brush your lips over his palm.
âI donât think that at all,â you murmur against his skin. âPromise.â
Thereâs a hint of a smile in his eyes when you look back up at him. âOkay. Sorry, I know itâs stupid. Like why do I need reassurance from you when Iâm the one being difficult?â
You press your cheek into the warmth of his hand, toying lazily with the rings on his fingers. âWhy are you so convinced that youâre difficult?â
Jimin huffs a small sigh. âThis conversation has not gone this well in the past.â His eyes drop to the floor again, and after a momentâs pause, he keeps talking.
âMy ex and I struggled a lot withâŚâ he shakes his head, as if heâs trying not to say âeverythingâ. âSex. With me wanting it, with us having enough of it. I think it gave me a complex. I could be physically, you know, ready, but then as soon as sheâd touch me Iâd get in my head about everything and freak out and immediately want to stop.â He pauses, worrying at his bottom lip.
You pull his hand into your lap, your fingers delicately tracing over his in an attempt to provide some comfort. He shrugs when he starts to speak again. âAnd then, I donât know, I guess she was just trying to share her side, but... she would make me feel so bad about it sometimes. Because I was genuinely trying so hard but it was like I was never good enough.â Another pause, and this time he sniffs a little. When his eyes roll up to stare at the ceiling, you can see heâs holding back tears. âIt felt like she didnât want me anymore, not if there wasnât sex. So I left.â
âJimin,â you breathe, and he flashes you a small grimace, clearly embarrassed by his own dramatics. With a grunt of effort, he turns sideways and flops backwards onto the floor of your room, and you scoot closer to him, your hand still playing with his.
His gaze roams over the ceiling as he sighs. âI donât want you to think I was this perfect person and she was some awful bitch. She loved me a lot, and Iâm sure she was struggling with not feeling wanted either, in her own way.â
Your voice is soft when you interject. âTwo people can just be⌠incompatible. It doesnât mean either of them is a bad person, or that itâs anyoneâs fault. Sometimes things just donât work, no matter how hard you try.â
Jiminâs mouth pulls up on one side as he shakes his head, eyes squinting. âHow did you get to be so smart?â
You canât help but laugh a little, lacing your fingers together with his in your lap. âYears of making terrible decisions.â You give his hand a gentle squeeze before you ask a question. âDid you struggle with this before, or just with her?â
His mouth twists slightly, unsure. âYes and no? Both? My desire has always⌠fluctuated, I guess. Been a little shy.â A smile spreads over his face, and he hums a note. âLike, you know how people say love at first sight isnât a thing? That itâs just lust?â You nod, prompting him to continue. âI think, at least for me, itâs the opposite. I can fall for somebody, and fall hard, like that.â He snaps loudly with his free hand. âBut lust⌠I donât know, it takes longer. Itâs like a slow burn thing.â
You nod again, processing his words for a moment before you respond. âWell, Iâm in no rush.â
Jimin sits up, voice thoughtful as he untangles his hand from yours, and itâs clear heâs getting more comfortable opening up to you. âRight after the breakup, I did a lot of research. I found this term, demisexual, that felt pretty accurate.â He shrugs. âBut I donât know. I mostly just think that... I am who I am. And the people who get it will get it. Like you.â
Before you can even speak, he sweeps an arm under your calves to drag you into his lap in one swift move, and you squeak a little in surprise as your world tilts.
âDemisexual. I like it,â you giggle as he guides your legs to wrap around his middle. His hands slide up your thighs, grabbing at your hips to tug you closer so he can trail kisses along your neck.
âBiromantic demisexual, technically,â he murmurs, head tipping up to find your mouth again.
You drape your arms over his shoulders and hum against his lips as he kisses you. âIt suits you.â
Another soft noise escapes you when Jimin manages to maneuver to standing with you still in his arms. You tighten your grip on his shoulders and your legs around his waist, and his hands shift down to your ass to firmly hold you up. You squeeze your eyes shut automatically in fear of being dropped, then flutter them open again when you feel your back press into the soft cushion of your bedspread.
Jimin is hovering over you, forearms dropped down to the bed on either side of you. His eyes search yours for a moment, and then he leans in to kiss you again, so fiercely this time that it leaves you breathless. You canât help but whimper as his tongue slips into your mouth.
When he finally pulls away, he presses his forehead to your collarbone with a groan. âItâs late,â he murmurs, breath ghosting over your neck. âI should go.â
You nod responsibly, despite how desperately you want him to stay.
You walk him out, and his sweet parting kiss leaves your heart hammering in your chest, enough that you slump against the frame with a sigh once you shut the door, your knees suddenly weak.
Light on your feet, you follow the faint noise of the TV to find Yoongi in the living room with Planet Earth on at a barely audible volume. He glances at you, his mouth a flat line, then reaches for the remote to turn the sound up a few notches. You drop down on the couch next to him, and itâs silent for a moment, save for the calm narration and the crinkling plastic of him tearing open a bag of Turtle Chips.
âHowâd it go?â he finally asks, voice monotone.
âItâs good,â you answer softly. âWeâre good.â You fold your legs up under yourself and sneak a look at Yoongi out of the corner of your eye. Youâre still a little pissed, but you also want advice. Damn him for knowing everything.
âHave you heard the term âdemisexualâ before?â
Yoongi nods, still chewing as he replies. âYeah. Like asexual spectrum, right?â
You shrug. âI guess. Itâs new to me.â
He shoves a few more chips in his mouth before he continues. âIs that what your Subway Boy is?â
âI think so, yeah.â
Thereâs a long pause while you watch penguins march across the screen, and you think that might be the end of it. Then Yoongi clears his throat. âYou know, Iâm somewhere in there too. Not completely asexual, but definitely not⌠not.â
Your eyes widen. âReally?â
Yoongi snorts. âDonât act so shocked. These walls arenât that thick.â
âIs Joon?â
He smirks, like youâve just told a joke. âDecidedly not.â
âOh.â You blink, trying to process. âHow do you deal with it?â
Yoongi makes a face, like heâs never thought about it before. âWe just communicate, I guess. Be respectful even when we donât necessarily understand. And, like, Namjoon watches porn, and surprisingly reads quite a bit of eroticaââ
âOkay, okay,â you cut him off. âI donât need all the details.â
He huffs a dry laugh at your discomfort. âItâs not always easy, sometimes itâs frustrating for both of us. But we make it work. We love each other.â
You chew a little at the inside of your cheek, and then you canât hold in the question any longer. âIs it weird that the idea doesnât bother me? Jimin said it was a huge issue with his ex. Like, does that make me on the⌠spectrum?â
Yoongi shrugs. âI mean, you might be? But not necessarily? I donât know, sex matters different amounts to everyone. Some people donât mind not having it that often. You donât have to put a label on it unless you want to, you know?â
âYeah, makes sense.â You nod slowly as you digest the idea. âThanks, Yoongi. I appreciate the education.â
His only answer at first is a noncommittal hum, and then he points a finger at the few inches of wine in the bottle you left sitting on the coffee table. âGonna finish that?â
âItâs all yours,â you say. âConsider it atonement for going to first base on the couch.â
Yoongi grabs the bottle by the neck and immediately drains it. âApology accepted,â he grunts as he sets it back down. âAnd Iâm sorry I snapped at you.â He extends his bag of chips in your direction and you happily reach in for the biggest handful you can manage.
~*~
During your next movie night, Jimin canât keep his hands to himself.
They pet up your thighs, your legs draped over his, then slide up to your hips, fingertips tracing patterns over the waistband of your leggings and toying at the hem of your shirt.
His mouth has a similar problem: he leans in to press kisses along the line of your jaw, then down the slope of your neck, sucking delicately at the spot that makes your nipples tighten and sends a shiver through you.
âYouâre missing the movie,â you remark, raking a hand through his peachy-pink hair, shadowed at the roots where his natural color has started to grow in. Heâs typically good about keeping himself restrained until the credits roll, but youâre barely halfway through Pride & Prejudice, havenât even cracked a second bottle yet.
âFuck the movie,â he growls against your skin, and you bite back a whimper when his teeth scrape over your neck. You canât ignore the way your core is starting to ache from his insistent mouth.
His lips find yours again, and you giggle softly into him. âYouâre in a mood.â
âJust been thinking about you,â he murmurs between kisses. It surprises you a little when he suddenly pulls back so he can look you in the eyes. âShould weâ do you want to go to my room?â
The air hangs still and heavy between you, and you worry at your bottom lip for a moment. âAre you sure?â When he nods, dark brown eyes blinking up at you, your mouth turns up at the corner. âIâd rather we not traumatize any more roommates if we can help it.â
You lean over to pause the movie before sliding off his lap and getting to your feet, and then you reach your hands out for his and pull him up next to you. âCome on.â
Jiminâs bedroom is so perfectly him that it relaxes you, feather-soft comfort every time you step inside. His bed isnât made, because it never is, the thick white duvet pushed down on one side where he stumbled out from beneath it this morning. He keeps it dark, blackout curtains drawn to support his night owl lifestyle, and the room is bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights heâs strung up along the ceiling. A myriad of posters and art prints and polaroids are taped to the walls, some beautiful, others sentimentalâ he even managed to coax you into tearing a few of his favorites out of your sketchbook. You still donât think theyâre anything special, but nevertheless, it makes your heart squeeze in your chest to see them on display with everything else. Like they belong here in this room, like you do too.
The door clicks as it shuts behind him, and then his mouth is on yours again, kissing you dizzy while he backs you up until your knees hit the edge of the bed. He guides you to lay down, and his hand slips beneath you to drag you up the bed with him as he crawls over you.
His hands come up to tug at your shirt. âCan I take this off?â he breathes.
You nod, staring up at him and not quite able to believe any of this is real. âYou can do anything you want to me.â With a smile, he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you sit up a little so he can pull it the rest of the way off.
âGod, youâre beautiful,â Jimin murmurs against your skin as he kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, then down between the valley of your breasts. His hands slip down to palm at your tits, squeezing gently, and he mouths at the stiff peaks of your nipples over the thin fabric of your bralette. You untangle briefly, only for as long as it takes to get the lacy thing off of you entirely and tossed over the edge of the bed.
You shiver a little as the air hits your bare skin, and then the warmth of his body covers you again, and he ducks down to close his mouth over your nipple and suck. The plush softness of his lips and the firm suction combined are enough to make your eyes roll back, and your spine arches up beneath him when he drags his tongue in a circle over the sensitive bud.
âShit,â you groan. Your hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, and it feels like your only tether to reality.
Itâs easy to believe itâs the waiting, the anticipation of this moment, that makes every little touch light you up like a live wire now. But something tells you it will always feel like this.
While his lips shift to your other breast, one hand slides down to cup your clothed pussy, rubbing gentle friction into your center. You circle your hips to press yourself against the flat of his palm, sighing at the brush of indirect contact and the heat that thrums through you from the pressure on your clit.
You feel Jiminâs weight shift on the mattress as he kneels next to you, and his lips find yours again at the same time his hand slips into your leggings, two fingers tracing the seam of your panties to make you whine softly. If he couldnât tell before, he must be able to now: how wet you are, enough to drench the lacy fabric so it clings to your cunt, dripping arousal to show how badly you want him.
Heâs surprisingly forceful when he tugs the damp fabric to the side, but so gentle again as he slips one finger and then a second into your tight heat. Your mouth drops open as he curls them up to rub at your g-spot, stroking into you over and over while your cunt squeezes tight around him.
Your head drops back on the pillow and you groan. âOh, fuck, Jimin.â
You can hear how soaked your pussy is as he pumps into you, and the wet squelch of his fingers working inside you would make you shy if it didnât feel so overwhelmingly perfect. The pleasure edges your breathing with soft sounds, and Jimin swallows them when he kisses you again.
He shifts slightly for a better angle and then you feel the heel of his palm grind down against your clit. Itâs enough to make your hips buck up under him with every press of his hand, his insistent touch shooting sparks of arousal through you.
Itâs been so long since anyone has touched you, and youâve wanted this with him so badly for so long, but even still, it surprises you how quickly he can bring you to the edge.
âJimin,â you break the kiss to gasp against his mouth, unable to believe how close you already are. Close enough that all you can do is cling, to any part of him you can reach: his hair, his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt. âJimin, Jimin, fuck.â
âLook so fuckinâ good like this,â he groans, and he says the next part softer, like itâs just for him. âMy girl looks so pretty on my fingers.â
The pace of his movements doesnât falter, nor does the heavy weight of his palm as he ducks down to capture your nipple in his mouth again. Your pussy pulses around him, sucking him in to the last knuckle with each thrust of his hand, and your nails dig desperately into his forearm as you feel your orgasm crest.
His teeth graze lightly over the tight bud of your breast, and itâs enough. With a final whine, the arousal thatâs been coiling inside you snaps, and your back arches up off the bed as you come hard on his fingers.
Jiminâs fingers keep stroking you through it, the flat of his palm rubbing rough circles against your clit again and again and again and it feels like you might never stop coming. You moan as it rolls over you, wave after wave, until his touch is so overwhelming that you have to pull your trembling thighs together, and he finally relents.
Spent, your body sinks heavy into the bed, and you canât help the dazed giggle that flutters out as afterglow starts to bloom behind your ribs.
Jimin hovers over you, dropped down onto his forearms, full lips pressing indiscriminately to your flushed skin, all over. You snake a hand through his hair to pull his mouth up to yours, and he kisses you slow and deep.
When you break apart, you tip your forehead to his. âCan I touch you?â you ask, still a little breathless.
âPlease,â he murmurs, lips brushing against yours again before he pulls away with a small, embarrassed smile. âMy pants hurt.â
You sit up on your knees and he does too, and you bite down on your lip as you reach for the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it over his head, and then there he is, beautiful as ever. Familiar, yet somehow all new.
Jimin shivers and whines when your hands run across the bare skin of his chest, teasing over his soft brown nipples before starting to trace a path down to his stomach. You lean in to kiss him, and he outright groans into your mouth when your fingertips tease along the band of his boxers that peeks out over his jeans. You gently bring your palms to his hips to guide him, and heâs pliant for you, shifting backwards at your suggestion until heâs seated, leaned back against the headboard.
Your hands shake slightly as you unbutton and push down his jeans, and you hear him exhale a ragged sigh of relief. Heâs so hard, you can understand why the tight denim must have been painful: his dick is still straining even now, a thick outline pressed into the fabric of his underwear, and thereâs a dark patch that clings to his tip where heâs started to leak precum.
You tug his boxers down with enough force that his length smacks heavy against his stomach, and he makes a strangled noise in response, eyes squeezing shut. His hips jerk violently beneath you, and your jaw goes slack as you watch his cock twitch, and keep twitching, until a steady pool of milky gloss has leaked out over his stomach.
âShit,â Jimin hisses as he comes practically untouched, and he gasps for air to try to speak. âFuck fuck fuckâ âmsorry, thought I couldââ
You can see him starting to spiral, can feel the panic starting to heat up inside his body, so you take his face in both of your hands. âJimin.â
âThis has never happened beforeâ fuck, I donâtâ this is soââ
âJimin.â When you say his name again, firmer this time, he goes quiet, his eyes still shut tight. âLook at me,â you murmur, and he does, lashes slow-blinking open. âItâs okay. Okay?â Your gaze searches his, trying to convince him. âI like everything about you. Everything you do. Youâre perfect.â
Clearly trying to steady his breathing, his chest shudders with effort, and you gently circle your thumb at the hinge of his jaw. He makes a soft noise as his eyelids drop shut again, his cheek pressing into your hand, letting you carry a little bit more of his weight.
Itâs quiet for a moment, and his voice is unsure when he speaks. âThereâs tissues⌠in theââ
âCan I take care of it?â you interrupt to ask, your voice low. His eyes blink open again to look at you, and a dark glint flickers there as the unsaid meaning of your question washes over him.
âY-yeah.â
You take your time moving down the bed to settle between Jiminâs thighs, and you stare up at him, waiting for any indication that he wants you to stop or doesnât feel comfortable. But he just swallows hard, his adamâs apple jerking in his throat, and nods.
Leaning down, you drag your tongue in steady, long strokes over the flat plane of his stomach to lick the mess up.
As you get the last of it, youâre surprised to feel his hand cup the back of your head. You donât resist when he pulls you up for a kiss, then licks into your mouth to taste himself, the salt and slick of his cum sliding between your tongues.
When you break apart to swallow, Jiminâs voice is a whisper. âThat okay?â
You nod, unable to bite back your smile. âYouâre⌠really fucking hot.â
He smirks as he finds your lips again. âSo are you.â The next kiss is sweeter, and then he pulls back. âIf you want, we can keepâ or I can go downâ I donât wantââ He canât finish any of his half-started thoughts, and you smile, lovingly running your palms over his thighs, back and forth.Â
You want him so badly, more than anything, but you try to breathe through it. You can see the wheels spinning in his head, that self-critical flash in his eyes, the same furrow in his brow that creases when he gets frustrated with himself.
âIâm not saying no because I donât want you,â you preface. âBut I just donât want you to feel stressed or get in your head about it. I want it to feel good, and Iâm in no rush. Next time, okay?âÂ
His lips are still a little pouted, but he nods, and you lean in to sling your arms around his neck. âCâmere.â
You tug him down to the mattress, and your half-naked bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, hands tracing gentle patterns over bare skin as you kiss.
When you eventually end up with your cheek pressed to his chest, you listen to the sound of his heartbeat settling, his breathing evening out. You speak softly in the quiet of his room. âMy roommateâs doing an exhibition on Friday. Will you come with me? Iâve been promised there will be free booze.â
Jimin tightens his grip on your waist, his voice slurring like heâs half-asleep. âMmm, my favorite person and my favorite thing.â Thereâs a pause, and he sighs. âThat sounded bad. Promise I'm not an alcoholic.â
âI know,â you laugh, dragging your lips over his collarbone, then grunting a little noise of frustration as reality starts to set in. âI have class early tomorrow. I should go before I fall asleep here.â
He whines his disapproval, but when you glance up you can see the fight going out of him, his eyelids starting to flutter closed. You lean up for one, two, three more kisses before you force yourself out of bed to find your bra and your shirt. âIâll see you Friday?â
âMmkay.â He inhales deep, like heâs coming up for air. âText me when you make it home safe?â
âI will,â you promise, and you do.
~*~
Namjoonâs exhibition is laughably fancy for what really just ends up being a room full of gay, overdressed art students. The ridiculous finger foods disappear in minutesâ all the broke grad school kids came hungryâ but you and Jimin gladly hover around the table of champagne flutes instead, giggles sparkling between you like the bubbles that fizz in your glasses.
Youâve been trying to drag him away to actually take in the art, but he keeps necking his drinks. âYouâre supposed to sip it, you demon!â you chide with a laugh as he does it again, picking up a fresh glass and throwing all of it back in one gulp.
He smirks slightly as he shakes his head. âItâs more fun this way. Try it.â
You roll your eyes, hiding the grin that threatens to stretch over your face in the rim of your drink before following suit. Heâs not wrong: a rush of warmth creeps up your neck as you swallow, the world softening around you, and itâs made sweeter by the kiss Jimin leans in for. When he pulls back you can see his face is flushing, too.
âCome on, Mr. Park,â you murmur, your free hand intertwining with his as you set the empty glass down and retrieve another. âTake me on a tour.â
Jimin grabs another flute too and then youâre off, and he actually manages to drink this one slowly as you weave through the gallery, the click of your footsteps underscoring the gentle classical music that floats through the speakers. You lean into Jimin in comfortable silence as you take in each art piece, sipping delicately at your champagne, occasionally hooking your chin over his shoulder just for the thrill of being close to him.
âThese are all beautiful,â he hums appreciatively as you stand in front of a wide, impressionist landscape, swirls of color that shift into shapes when you step far enough away, but dissolve into unidentifiable blobs of thick-textured paint up close. âNamjoon did a really good job curating.â
âMm-hmm,â you nod, but your eyes are on Jimin and everything else pales in comparison. Heâs dressed up for the occasion, tight black jeans and a white button-down with a leather jacket thrown on over top. His hair is styled, pretty pink strands pushed back off his forehead, and his asymmetrical silver earrings glimmer in the low lighting. The result is so stunning youâve had a hard time focusing on anything but him tonight.
A thought thatâs been running through your mind all evening resurfaces again as you swallow the last of your glass of champagne.
âThey should put you in a gallery.â You didnât necessarily plan to say the thought out loud, but say it you do. Jimin quirks an eyebrow and you decide to double down. âBut not here. Somewhere better.â
âThe Met?â he guesses, teasing.
âThe Louvre,â you counter, and he outright laughs, his head tipping back.
âThe Louvre?!â
âYou heard me,â you giggle, your body pressed against his side. âYouâre art.â
Releasing your hand, he wraps his free arm around you to pull you into his chest, the smile still lingering over his face. âAnd you,â he murmurs, âare drunk.â
âDoesnât mean I donât mean it.â Your voice is muffled slightly as you speak into his collarbone.
You tilt your head up for a kiss, and it seems to surprise both of you how quickly the atmosphere changes. It might be the more-than-several glasses of champagne to blame, or the fact that youâve found yourselves in a corner, hidden away from the rest of the exhibitionâs patrons, but the soft spark that ignites between you quickly grows into a licking flame at the touch of your lips. Itâs heat-blush passion as your mouths move against each other, and youâre trying to keep quiet despite the weight of it, heavy in your core, this shared, unspoken need.
âJimin,â you breathe into him, overwhelmed by all that he is.
He shifts, nosing at your jawline as he speaks into your ear. âDo you want to go somewhere?â
The suggestion makes you a little unsteady on your feet, your high heels threatening to topple over, and he catches you with a hand to your waist when you falter. âLike, somewhere here?â
âToo far to go all the way home,â he purrs, the hand on your body squeezing gently. âAnd you look too good.â
Your head swims as he kisses you again, and he pries the empty glass out of your hand, setting it down on the nearest table with his. A hand returns to the small of your back, then slips lower, cupping your ass through the fabric of your black dress. His mouth paints a smile over yours, and you grab his wrist. âFollow me.â
Stumbling your way through the gallery, trading laughs under your breath like confidants and kisses when no one is looking, you lead him back to the coat check closet at the front, thankfully left vacant by whichever freshman had been roped in to the thankless job. With a final glance over your shoulder to make sure youâre unseen, you push the door open and tug Jimin inside after you.
As soon as the coat check door closes again, he has you pressed against it, his tongue slipping hungrily into your mouth. His hands skirt up the curve of your hips as he slots a thigh between your legs, firmly pushing up the hem of your dress to grind into your clothed center.
You both freeze where you are at the sound of a moan, one that very distinctly does not come from either of you.
Jimin tries and fails to suppress a nervous laugh. Unable to make out anything in the dark, you reach your hand out, smacking aimlessly at the wall next to you until you find a lightswitch and flip it on.
âWhat the fuââ The man who made the noise in question flings a hand over his face at the sudden intrusive wash of fluorescents, but youâd know him from his voice alone. Kim Taehyung still has one hand gripped tight to the metal bar of a coat rack, back arched and legs spread for whoever his latest victim is, with his pants and boxers shoved down to his ankles.
Before your alcohol-soaked brain can put together a smug comment about how Taehyung needs to get his ass eaten at home like a normal human, Jiminâs voice surprises you.
âHobi?â
You clap a hand over your mouth as you realize the man on his knees, pulling his tongue off Taehyungâs rim with a look of utter confusion, is none other than Jung Hoseok. His eyes are wide as dinner plates as his head snaps up to take the two of you in.
âJimin?!â
âOh my god.â You start to laugh so hard your knees buckle, and Jimin has to wrap his arms around you to keep you upright. ���How the fuck did you two even meet?!â
âDo we really need to have this discussion now?!â Taehyung growls, and it only makes you laugh harder.
âCome on, come onââ Jimin is collapsing into giggles himself as he fumbles for the handle behind you. He simultaneously attempts to pull you off the door so he can swing it open. âLetâs leave them to it.â
You smack the lights off again as you make your escape, Jiminâs grip still hugging tight around your waist as you laugh until your lungs nearly give out. The lobby is thankfully empty, all the attendees pressed deeper into the gallery, so you loop your arms over his shoulders as you recover and pull his mouth back down to yours, unable to stop yourself.
âLet me take you home,â you manage to say in the space between kisses. Your tongue feels heavy when you speak; his is champagne-sweet. âJoon and Yoongi will be here for a while.â
Jiminâs agreement hums, buzzing on your lips. âWanna take the train?â
Youâre grateful the subway car you stumble into is empty, because the pull of Jiminâs mouth is too magnetic to be ignored. You donât think you could stop kissing him if you tried.
Itâs practically a race back to your apartment once you emerge from the station, partially to get out of the cold night air, though you hardly feel it with Jiminâs jacket slung over your shoulders and your body flushed hot from alcohol and desire. As you climb the four flights to your walk-up, both of you giggling and gripping tight to the banister, the spiral of the stairs sends your world spinning. You feel dizzy-drunk on wine and laughter and lust alike, and maybe something more. Something you donât have words for yet.
It takes you three tries to get your keys in the door, and when you finally manage to get it open, you kick your shoes off and make a beeline for your bedroom, dragging Jimin along after you, hand-in-hand. Thankfully he has the foresight to remember to shut the door behind you, because all you can think about is him: the rich musk of his cologne, the taste of his tongue, the warm blush of his skin under your palms.
The leather jacket hits the floor and you step over it, walking backwards as he licks into your open mouth, shameless.
You nearly fall over when you bump up against the bed and almost lose your balance, and then you reach for the buttons of his shirt at the same time he goes for your dress. The two of you laugh your frustrations against each other as your arms tangle and get in the way.
âYou first!â you insist, and he relents, lets you unbutton the starched white fabric of his button-down so he can shrug out of it. Your fingers move to undo his belt and then he takes over, impressively coordinated enough to be able to kiss you while kicking his jeans the rest of the way off, stripped down now to his black boxer-briefs. He pulls your dress up over your head, and then your barely-clothed bodies press together all the way down, the ache in your core now an undeniable throb.
Jimin takes your face in his hands and kisses you again, and you slip one hand between your hips and his to palm at him, earning an appreciative hiss. You rub at him over the front of his briefs, teasing, then dip your touch beneath his waistband.
His cock hangs heavy between his legs, but heâs not quite hard yet, maybe from the cold, so you take him in your hand and start to pump. For fear of too much dry friction you try to go slow, and he groans into your mouth as you twist your wrist a little to circle your thumb over his frenulum.
He buries his face in your neck, and you can feel the heat of his embarrassment bloom against your skin. âSorryâ gimme a second.â
Tilting your head, you press a kiss to his temple. âDonât apologize. Dâyou wanna try laying down?â
When he nods, you release your grip on him so he can sink down onto the bed, crawling backwards up to the pillows. Knelt down on the mattress, you settle in the space he makes for you, thighs spread and knees tipped open, and you push his briefs down enough to free all of him.
You hook your thumb and index finger under the head of his dick to pull it flush against his stomach, allowing you better access to drag your tongue in little kitten licks up his shaft. Your other hand moves to massage gently at his balls as you take his tip into your mouth and let it bulge against your cheek, let him slip against the soft wall there to make saliva pool on your tongue, sloppy on purpose.
Itâs still not working, not really, and when your gaze flits up to him again, Jiminâs face is pulled into a grimace. Heat rushes up your neck, and you pull your mouth off him and immediately right yourself. You shift backwards a little on your knees as your pulse starts to race. Does he not want this? Did you misread some sign, or push him too far?
Jimin must be able to read the look in your eyes, because he groans as he presses his face into his hands. âItâs not you. Think I drank too much, I donâtâ i-it feels good, Iâit justââ
Youâre not exactly sober yourself. The receding white noise of panic makes it hard to think, hard to know what to say. âI-itâs okay. Itâs okay.â
âI justââ he tries again. âI really want to do this, I donât know whyâ itâs fucking embarrassing.â The blankets muffle the sound as his palms smack flat against the bed on either side of him in clear frustration. You move out from between his legs, still trying to catch up, and a muscle in his jaw jumps as he pulls his boxer-briefs back over himself.
âJimin,â you murmur. The bed creaks when you shift to lay next to him, to tuck into his side, and you reach up to run a hand through his hair, a little sticky with the product holding it in place. An anxious, thrumming quiet settles over both of you as his eyes flutter closed.
The words finally come to you in the silence; you can only hope theyâll reach him. âI had so much fun with you tonight. That doesnât go away.â The crease between his brows softens a little, so you keep talking. âItâs not your only chance, okay? Iâm not leaving. Iâm staying right here.â Your free hand slips into his on the bed next to you. âAnd I want you with me.â
He sniffs a little, so quiet you nearly miss it, then turns in towards you. Your noses bump together and your mouth turns up at the corners as you continue. âItâs late, and I⌠canât promise there isnât more ass-eating waiting for you at home. Do you want to sleep here?â
Jiminâs eyes blink open, glassy, and then he nods.
âCome on,â you say softly, sitting up and tugging on your still-joined hands. âHow about we shower?â
In the bathroom, you run the water scalding hot, and when you both step in you nudge Jimin forward to stand under it first, then press against him from behind. Your hands wrap around his waist to slide over his stomach as you tilt up to reach his ear when you speak. âThis okay?â
He nods, hums a little, and you move your hands up over the whole of his body. Hard lines and soft curves, a work of art you know so well, you can see it when you close your eyes as you map his skin with your fingertips. You nuzzle into the place where his neck and shoulder meet, then press a kiss there. âIâm right here,â you say again, not even sure if he hears you.
But his head turns, and you feel one of his hands slide over yours on his chest. âWill you wash my hair?â he asks softly, and you tip forward to bring your mouth to his, convinced youâd do anything he asked of you.
Itâs intimate, the way you take your time running shampoo and then conditioner through his silky pink strands, dragging your nails over his scalp and applying gentle pressure that makes him sigh prettily in response. Jimin steps further under the showerhead both times to rinse the product out, and if a few tears slip down his cheeks, theyâre lost to the spray of the water where you canât tell the difference.
But he does manage the ghost of a smile when you reach to grab your washcloth and he gets there first. âYour turn.â
Once your body and then his are scrubbed and rinsed clean, you shut the water off and grab thick, fluffy towels that you dry off and wrap up in. In the dim light of your room, you pull on an oversized t-shirt and boyshorts, then dig out a pair of sweatpants from your dresser. Theyâre fairly baggy on you, but they fit Jimin perfectly, and the image of him in something of yours makes your heart squeeze tight in your chest.
You run two glasses under the kitchen tap that you set out to ward off any potential hangovers, and you even manage to find a spare toothbrush for him to use. When he emerges from the bathroom again, still absentmindedly toweling his damp hair, youâre sitting on the bed with your feet tucked under you.
âDo you want to watch something?â you offer gently.
He shakes his head as he stifles a yawn. ââMtired. Think I just wanna sleep.â
You pat the bedspread next to you, an invitation. âThen letâs sleep.â
Under the covers, you curl up together, soft and warm from the shower, scented lavender and mint from your body wash and toothpaste. Jiminâs legs tangle with yours, an arm wrapping over your waist, and you press your cheek against the hard plane of his chest with a small sigh.
You listen as his breathing slows, each inhale a little further apart from the last, to the point where you think heâs fallen asleep. You feel yourself start to follow after him, and the last thing you hear before youâre dragged all the way down is Jimin inhaling deep, then mumbling softly into your hair. âThank you. For everything.â
~*~
Light streams in between the cracks of the window blinds, painting warm shapes over your eyelids that gently wake you. You sigh and stretch as you slowly come all the way up from dreaming, your eyes still heavy-lidded. When you roll over with a soft grunt, you find Jimin fast asleep there, his face smushed into the pillow, one arm slung lazily over you.
The corner of your mouth pulls up, and you have to fight the urge to dot kisses all over his face, deciding to let him sleep instead. It takes some maneuvering, but you manage to roll out from under his arm without waking him and slip quietly out of bed, easing the bedroom door closed behind you.
Itâs early, and the apartment is still, washed in morning gleam and the gentle hum of New York City traffic on the streets outside.
You stumble into the kitchen with a stifled yawn, swinging open the fridge and leaning down to retrieve a pack of bacon and the half-empty carton of eggs. Humming quietly to yourself, you dig a pan out and set it on the stove to heat.
Arms slide around your waist, making you jump a little before you melt back as Jimin nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You can feel his body through your t-shirt, still warm from sleep and bedsheets he mustâve only just crawled out from under.
Not quite graceful, you turn in his arms and loop yours around his neck to seek a kiss. âGood morning,â you murmur, your voice hoarse on your first spoken words of the day. âHow are you feeling?â
Jiminâs mouth is still slurred from waking up when he answers. ââMgood. You look good.â His gaze roams down your body and back up, as if to take in your oversized shirt, your bare legs, your hair still messy from sleep. âSo cute like this.â
You scrunch your nose slightly as you smile up at him. âWant breakfast?â
A heat starts to pool between your legs as his hands slide further down your back. He pushes your shirt up so he can grip your ass, the thin fabric of your underwear the only thing separating his skin from yours.
âIn a bit.â
You canât help but squeak when, in one swift move, he bends his knees and lifts you off the ground. Impulsively, your legs spread to wrap over his hips, thighs squeezing tight to hold on, and your arms cling around his neck as laughter flutters in your chest. Before you can act on the urge to bury your face in his shoulder, his mouth finds yours again, and the way he kisses you, hungry and deep, makes nothing else in the world matter.
He carries you back to bed, nudging open the door he didnât quite close all the way with his shoulder, then using a foot to push it shut again. Your muscles unclench when he sits down with you in his lap, and you unwrap your legs from around him, your knees sinking soft into the bed.
You canât quite shake the thoughts of the night before. âJimin,â you start, âwe donât have to do this if you donâtââ
âWant to,â his voice is low, ragged edges from sleep. âDoing it âcause I want to. I want you. Do you want me?â
You nod, leaning back to look at him, your arms still twined over his neck. âMore than anything.â
Thereâs no rush this time as he shifts backwards up the bed and you crawl over him to settle into his lap again. No tension thatâs been building all night, no alcohol buzzing in your systems, no urgency. Just your bodies, half-dressed in sleep clothes, intertwining like they were made to fit together.
Your kisses are sweet and unhurried as Jiminâs hands slip beneath your oversized t-shirt, delicate fingers tracing up your waist. He cups your breasts in his palms, squeezing gently as he licks into your mouth. When he rolls a nipple between his fingers, your breath hitches, sparks of arousal shooting all the way down to your toes. A weight blossoms in your core as you reach for the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head, and you shiver a little in the morning air.
âBeautiful,â Jimin says quietly, reverently, and you take his face in your hands.
âYou are too,â you murmur, your eyes searching his. âSo beautiful.â Your hands slip down his body as he kisses you again, your fingertips outlining the contours of his chest, gently brushing over his nipples to make him groan into your mouth.
Jiminâs hands come to rest at the curve of your hips as your mouths move together, where he teases his touch under the band of your boyshorts. He pulls back just far enough to ask, âCan I take these off?â and you nod.
You shimmy the thin fabric down your thighs, dropping onto your ass with a laugh so he can tug them the rest of the way off, one ankle at a time. As you sit up on your knees again, his hands come to grip your thighs, and he shifts lower on the bed until heâs laying flat on his back next to you.
âWanna eat you out,â he murmurs softly.
âYeah?â You bite down on a small smile.
He hums. âCan Iâ will you please, uh⌠sit on my face?â
You canât help but giggle. No one has ever asked so politely. âYeah, okay.â
Itâs slow, languid, the way his full lips close delicately around your clit when you settle over him, how he alternates with lazy passes of his tongue, not unlike the way he kisses you. The pleasure pulls your spine arched and your head tips back, palms pressing flat to the bed beneath you.
âJimin,â you gasp, âbaby, feels so fucking good.â
His tongue is heavy as it drags down your folds, thick when he sinks it into your cunt to taste the slick arousal that pours out of you and drips down his chin. Your hips rock into his mouth, his nose inadvertently bumping against your clit as he licks you like he doesnât want to waste a drop. Your walls cling tight, crammed up full of him.
With a slurp and a gasp for breath, he withdraws, his tongue made hot from being buried inside of you, trailing wet warmth as he licks back up your pussy to lap at your clit again. Your arms threaten to give out when he sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, lips pulsing an insistent rhythm that makes you moan and writhe above him.
âJimin, Jimin.â The pleasure is decadent, thick, wine and honey, made sweeter by the beautiful boy pressed between your thighs. Emotion bubbles up inside of you to twist with your pleasure, and you tighten a hand in his rose-blush hair as you moan again, nearly a sob this time, a dam breaking.
Jimin hums against you, fingertips digging into the soft skin of your thighs, like he can tell youâre at the edge without you having to say a word, and itâs enough to send you tumbling over it.
âOh fuck baby, yes, fuck.â Your toes curl tight over the bedsheets as your pussy flutters, throbs, gushes. Your vision whites out as you come hard enough to make your thighs shake, hard enough that your stomach muscles tremble with the effort of holding you up. Jiminâs mouth works you through it, tongue stroking flat and slow to coax pulse after pulse out of you, until everything melts into shaky aftershocks and your thighs clench around him, over-sensitive.
He pulls back when you start to squirm, lips smacking wetly on a final kiss to your pussy, and heat flushes your face at the sound of it. Your limbs feel heavy as lead as you slip off from on top of him and collapse down onto the mattress with a floaty sigh, your pulse still thudding brightly in your ears.
Youâre only distantly aware of the way the bed shifts as Jimin slides down next to you. You follow his touch on instinct, turning into him when he pulls you close and presses a kiss to your hairline. Heartbeat still slamming in your chest, mind hazy with morning orgasm glow, you hum contentedly as your eyes flutter open to find him palming at a thick bulge tenting hisâ well, your sweatpants.
âLooks like itâs cooperating today.â Jiminâs voice is equal parts relieved and embarrassed.
With a lazy smile, you hook a finger in his waistband, tugging playfully. âWhat do you want to do about it?â
He laughs hoarsely. âI would love to finally fuck you, if youâll have me.â
âI donât want anybody else.â The thought spills out before you can worry if itâs too soon to say it, but he just smiles and leans in to kiss you.
At Jiminâs guidance, you lay back against the pillows, a couple of which he grabs to slot under your hips. âThereâs condoms in the nightstand,â you say softly, and anticipation thrums in your chest, twinning with your still-racing pulse as you watch him retrieve one, then step out of his sweatpants to roll it on.
He climbs back onto the bed to hover over you, and your breaths come shallow into each otherâs mouths. You kiss quietly at the precipice of this moment, like youâre afraid it might not be real, a dream you could wake up from at any second.
âThank you.â Jiminâs low voice sends a ripple through you. âFor waiting for me.â
You press a hand to his cheek, your eyes trying to take all of him in at once. âIt wasnât waiting, Jimin. Really. Iâve loved every second with you. It doesnât matter what weâre doing.â
âIâm so glad I met you,â he murmurs.
The head of his cock teases your entrance, and you spread your thighs wider, pulling your legs up towards your chest. Still sensitive from your first orgasm, you canât bite back the moan that spills out of you as he sinks into your tight heat with a cock thick enough to split you open. âFuck, Jimin.â
Thereâs a pause when heâs pressed all the way in, his body covering yours, your hands clutching at the broad sweep of his back. He exhales a soft, disbelieving laugh as he looks down to see himself buried in you to the hilt. âGod, youâre so tight. Does it hurt?â
You shake your headâ youâre so soaked from his tongue and your arousal that it all just feels like melting, a pulsating heat between your legs. When he presses another kiss to your lips, he circles his hips, and you both groan at the feeling.
Jiminâs hands grip your thighs as he shifts and starts to move, starts fucking into you with long, slow strokes that make your pussy flutter, as if to urge him in deeper.
âItâs good?â he checks in again, voice tight, clearly holding himself back.
âSo good, baby,â you breathe, âplease fuck me.â A smirk flashes over his mouth at your manners, so polite when you ask to take it, and then he snaps his hips into you and you keen. âFuck, please, just like that.â
He does it again and again, hands pressing down on your thighs to keep you folded up under him as he fucks you. The angle is just right for the thick head of his cock to pound into your g-spot with every stroke, and your back arches as your walls grip tight to him.
Jimin echoes your gasps with his own, swearing under his breath as you squeeze around him. Heâs thrusting deep-deep now, and your hips shove up towards him for all of it, your thighs trembling as you take every inch. Youâre dripping down his length every time he pulls back, wet enough to soak the sheets beneath you.
The pleasure, the pressure as he fills you up is so overwhelming that your hands reach, clinging to anything they can find. A pillow, the bedsheets, the flexing muscles in his forearms. Your moans come unabashedly now, underscored by the slap of skin on skin, the thud of the bedframe knocking into the wall. âJimin, Jimin, baby.â
âYeah,â he pants, choked up like heâs close. âLove it when you say my name.â
You sit up a little, folded legs shifting to wrap over his hips, and your hands come to his face to pull his mouth down to yours. His movements stutter as you kiss him breathlessly, and the brush of your tongue over his must be just enough to make him come undone. With a grunt of effort, he thrusts hard into you one final time, and his shoulders shake as he fills up the condom.
You kiss him again and again, your lips pulled into a smile against his as you tangle a hand in his hair, made messy from sleep and sex. Jiminâs body weighs heavy on top of yours as he drops his head to your shoulder, breath coming in short heat-bursts over your collarbone.
âFuck. Been a minute.â He presses a kiss there, another to your neck, a third to your jaw. âDo you want to keep going?â
Your eyes widen at the question. âIâ can you?â
A soft flush paints color in his cheeks, and heâs suddenly a little shy. âYeah, I can. If you want. Or we can stop.â
You wrap your arms over his shoulders, your noses bumping. âI kinda felt like I was getting close again.â
He smiles. âThen let me finish what I started.â Thereâs a bit of shuffling as he moves to the edge of the bed to remove and tie up the used condom, then reaches for the box to retrieve another.
As he tears open the foil and rolls it on, you watch and consider all of him. This body that you know from every angle, that youâve studied like a textbook, that holds the boy who stepped onto the subway and changed your life and made it better. This body, made to be adored, to be respected and cherished and filled up with love. This body, chosen to be shared with you, to be held by you, to be near you.
Thatâs all you want, you realize as he rolls over, brown eyes blinking sweetly at you. This body, and all that it holds: the darkness and the light, the pain and the beauty, the soul that so perfectly fits with yours.
âTurn over for me?â he asks softly. âI want to spoon.â
This round is easier, slower, your bodies molding together, shaky from effort and sensitivity. You twist over your shoulder, tipping your head up for a kiss that turns into a shared gasp as he presses into you again. Your walls are swollen enough to be tender, and the stretch of him, the way he fills you up entirely, makes your eyes roll back.
As he starts to grind his hips into you, his hand snakes down between your thighs before you even have to ask. You hook a leg over his to allow him better access and gasp when his cock slides even deeper into you from the new angle.
âSo good,â you manage as two of his fingers work circles into your clit, matching the same slow-stroke pace. His tongue slips into your mouth, and with his cock rubbing insistently against your front wall, it doesnât take much. Pleasure overwhelms you in a hot rush as he so easily pulls you apart again.
âJimin.â Your voice is nearly a whisper, your walls starting to pulse. Your head tips back against his shoulder as he fucks and rubs you through it, his hums of encouragement buzzing through your body, your hips shuddering. âBaby, oh god.â
Jiminâs strokes start to falter, and then he goes still, your cunt aftershock-fluttering around him as he comes again, groaning your name.
A brush of daylight through the blinds makes your eyes heavy, and they drop closed as you lean into him and breathe through the comedown. You donât know how long you lay there like that until his kisses pull you back earthside, dotting over your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw. You tilt your head up and he finally finds your lips again.
With a deep grunt of post-sex effort, he rolls over, leaning off the edge of the bed to deal with the second condom. A shiver dots up your spine at the loss of his body next to yours, and you tuck into his side when he lays down again, throwing an arm over his chest to better nuzzle into the crook of his neck. The heat of his palm makes you sigh as his hand rubs gentle circles against your back.
Something cracks open inside of you, warm like his touch, like the sunlight bleeding through the window. You can feel the rapid pace of his heartbeat under your hand, and itâs everything, all of him, that makes the words rise up in your throat, undeniable.
âJimin,â you breathe, âI lââ
A loud bang on your bedroom door makes you flinch, and you roll over with a grimace as Yoongi shouts from the other side. âIf youâre finished, just so you know, you left a fucking pan on the stove. Couldâve burnt the house down while you were in there deflowering each other.â
Your jaw drops open and Jiminâs eyes go wide, and you collapse against each other in a silent rush of laughter. Youâre surprised when Yoongiâs voice comes back, a little softer this time. âAlso I brought some bagels back from work. If you want any, better hurry before Namjoonie eats them all.â
The charged moment has passed, and the words sink back down inside of you. Making a promise to tell him soon, you wrap yourself tighter around Jiminâs side with a smile. âWhat do you think?â
He nods thoughtfully. âIâll never say no to a bagel.â
âCome on then,â you murmur, tilting up for a final hit of affection. The kiss he leaves on your lips makes your heartbeat flutter, like the shudder of a subway car.
5K notes
¡
View notes
Real or Not Real?
Miguel OâHara x Reader
Plot: You need a plus one for a wedding. Who better than your boss and perhaps the most hated person on your list.
Genre: PG-13, Enemies to Lovers (I would like to think sođŹ)
A/N: Iâm on a roll. Also, I always wanted to do this trope! This is longer than usual. Reblogs and feedback appreciated!đ
âShit!â Your phone bounces off the bed, landing inches away from another expensive repair.
âWhatâs wrong?â Jessica Drew looks up from the self help book that she was currently engaged in.
âAn old classmate. I totally forgot about the wedding!â You groan, feet becoming more fidgety by the second.
âRight⌠and would you care to explain why you look like one of Norman Osbornâs pumpkins?â Your best friend looks at you cautiously, as if like you were a volcano waiting to explode any second.
âWell, she used to be great with everyone in school. Canât say the same about myself.â You winced internally at the memories about your youth. âYou know how it is. Everyone is either rich, successful or in love once they leave school.â
âOr maybe all three.â Jessica adds helpfully much to your chagrin.
âThanks, Jess.â You refrain from rolling your eyes. âAnyways, the chat group got reignited and some genius started asking about âthe girl who everyone always see but doesnât really knowâ and before I know it, everyone starts pestering me about how Iâm doing!â You throw your hands dramatically in the air and Jessica canât help but to look amused. âSo?â
âSo, I kinda told them that I have a reallyhotboyfriend.â The last few words are mashed into one big mess but still clear enough for Jessica to pick up. âYou what now?â
Smelling the judgement from a mile away, you hang your head in defeat. âI know! Iâm an idiot! I couldnât help myself okay? This is what happens when you attend a private all girlsâ school. You stand out for being weird and suddenly The Plastics start making your entire school life hell.â
âThe Plastics?â
âItâs a movie reference.â
âWhy am I not surprised.â Jessica chuckles. âSo what now girl? Howâs damage control going?â
âTerrible.â You splat face first into the pillow. âI was thinking of getting help from the guys butâŚâ You hold up four fingers, ticking them off one by one. âPavitr canât pretend, Hobieâ too unpredictable, Miles is too young and Peterâs married with a child - a fact I canât ignore even if this is fake.â
Jessica looks at your closed fingers, tapping her chin thoughtfully. If being friends with her taught you anything, this wasnât a good sign.
âThere is one more option. I think he would fit your description of a really hot boyfriend.â She deliberately gives you a meaningful look that makes you leap off the bed, throwing her an accusing look.
âActually, I think Iâm going to ask Gwen. Do you know where I can find her?â
âLong gone. She went to visit Captain Stacey.â Jessica quips. âCome on. Heâs a good option. Besides, this is a great opportunity to know him better!â
âI rather tangle with the loch-ness monster instead.â You mumble, thinking about your very first encounter with the man of the hour - Miguel OâHara. The two of you were a good representation of day and night.
While you were bright and upbeat, the leader of the Spider Society probably didnât have the word âjoyâ in his dictionary. As you attempted to introduce yourself to him at your first meeting, he had simply brushed you aside.
âMiguel isnât that bad once you get to know him.â
âVery funny, Jess. You should be comedian of the year. Did you forget how he yelled at me when I pushed him out of the way from Kingpinâs gangbangers?â
Jessica opens her mouth slightly, only to shut it soon after. You frown, turning your back to see whatever she was staring at behind you. How you wished you hadnât. Oh, if only the ground could swallow you whole as Miguel himself stands at the door, staring at you with an unreadable expression.
âWhat- how long have you been here for?â You struggle to form that one sentence. âJessâŚâ You start accusingly.
Jessica shrugs, taking Miguelâs presence as a sign to leave. âIâll leave you two to it!â She gives you a wink that results in your mouth hanging agape. Miguel closes the door and you quickly attempt to compose yourself.
âIâll do it.â
âDo what?â
Miguel raises a brow. âBe your date.â He says it all too nonchalantly, as if choosing at empanada at the supermarket. You blink, pinching yourself out of his sight. The situation was very real. He stands in front of you, waiting.
âWhat do you want from me?â You blurt out. âYou want something in return.â You clarify once more, trying to make sense of things.
The end of Miguelâs lips turn upwards slightly, and youâre worried that the sudden acceleration of your heart would unable to support your body to stand upright.
âI just want to apologize for my behavior and I happened to overhear your conversation.â He responds and you make a mental note to never trust Jessica again for not warning you about his presence.
âAm I in some kind of alternate dimension?â You laugh, trying to defuse the awkwardness. Miguel remains impassive, eyes staring intently into yours.
âWhatâs it going to be? You can take me or you can look like a liar to everyone. Itâs your choice.â
You hate to say it, but heâs right.
***
âYou came!â Your old friend comes barreling into you, giving you a big hug.
âLils! You look amazing!â You gushed, returning the hug. âCongratulations. What a beautiful place.â You refer to the beachside wedding that she insisted on.
âThanks! Jeju Island was always on my bucket list. Iâm so glad I get to share this memory with all of you!â She gushes, turning to your plus one. âI mean, I finally get to see who has stolen your heart!â She extends a hand. âAnd who may you be?â
âMiguel OâHara.â He extends his own hand for a shake. âCongratulations.â
âNo need for the formalities!â Lilly smiles brightly. âWhat I do want to know is how you two got together! You can be away from her for a little canât you?â
Before the two of you can even say anything, you find yourself being pulled away by Lilly while the groom effortlessly picks up the conversation with Miguel. She brings you aside, within the sight of the two men.
âTell me everything!â She pounces on you like a tiger, demanding to know your first encounter. You give what you hope was a easy smile. âWeâre⌠colleagues.â You donât think exposing both your superhero personas would do well, not especially when you got here by inter dimensional traveling.
Your friend seems to be satisfied by this as she squeals. She hits your shoulder a little too aggressively, wanting more. You sigh, hoping that Miguel wasnât being interrogated this intensively on his end.
âWe just had the same interests and kind of clicked.â You prayed that the questioning would stop soon. âEverything was just a blur after.â
Lilly nods, throughly invested in your fake love story. Sheâs about to ask another question when a sharp voice pierced through the air, causing you to be rooted to the ground. You really wanted to run away at that moment.
âWhat is this that Iâm hearing? Youâre actually seeing someone?â The clack of heels come to a stop and you find yourself facing your tormentor.
âItâs nice to see you too, Becca.â You grit through your teeth. The woman remains oblivious to your discomfort as she addresses the two others trailing behind her. âI wonder whoâs the lucky man nice enough to pick her up!â
âThatâs enough, I invite you to my wedding out of our friendship but this doesnât give you the right to insult her.â Lilly shoots back, keeping her eyes trained on your curled fists.
âItâs alright, Lils.â You try to remain calm. âLetâs go. Iâll tell you everything later.â You take the lead to escort her back when Beccaâs comment brings you to a halt.
âI bet he isnât even real!â
Although she was right, you couldnât help but to turn around, wanting to give Becca and her posse a piece of your mind. Something that you should have done a very long time ago.
âOh, Iâm very real alright.â
You see Miguel walking up towards the trio. Was it just you or did Miguel look⌠angry?
He composes himself, giving a charming grin to the trio who looked like they were going to start falling at his feet any moment.
âMiguel OâHara. She has told me a lot about you three.â
âOh, she has?â Becca twirls the edge of her skirt nervously and you donât know where Miguel is going with this.
âSure. Sheâs told me all about how you three dimwits made her entire life hell. Honestly? I donât even know how that happened when sheâs a hundred times classier with more substance than you plastics claim to have.â Miguel catches your eye and gives a quick wink.
âExcuse me?â Becca stutters. âOh, I get it. She must have paid you to say that!â
Miguel walks over and gently loops an arm over your shoulders. By now, the conversation seemed to have attracted every guest who were lining up at the buffet table.
âNope. But you know what she is? She is the most courageous and selfless person who wouldnât hesitate to help others. I donât think you three would even come close to understanding what that means.â
Miguel has done it. Heâs left them speechless and every guest is know giving disapproving looks to the trio who can only storm away in embarrassment.
âI think Iâm not that hungry yet. How about we take a walk?â
You realize that Miguel is asking you, so you nod numbly and find yourself being led out of the venue. You see Lilly standing at the entrance greeting guests.
Catching your eyes, she gives you a thumbs up and a mischievous grin, not bothered at all about the verbal altercation that was inadvertently caused by you. Amidst the chaos, one thought was clear in your mind.
Just what is going on?
***
The rainbow colored blocks providing as seats for families, friends and couples to take photos makes the sea look even clearer. Silence overtaking the two of you, you busy yourself with noticing how the jagged edges of the rocks are a wonderful addition to the waves crashing near the shore.
âWhatâs going on up there?â
Finally. You prepare yourself, stopping beside the statue. âI was just about to ask you the same thing OâHara.â You take a brave step closer towards the hulking man and he briefly looks away before staring back at you. âNot that Iâm ungrateful but that wasnât like you.â
âThen, what am I supposed to be?â
You paused. âWell⌠youâre supposed to be grumpy and grouchy and keeping me at armâs length I guess?â You search for the right words as Miguel contains a chuckle seeing how flustered you were becoming by the second. âAnd youâre suddenly being nice to me? Hell would have to freeze over.â
Miguel closes the already small gap between the two of you and you suddenly feel hot at his gaze. He examines you for a while and you think heâs about to deliver another sharp retort.
âI did try. I tried to keep you away but you were too bright and cheerful for your own good.â Miguel gruffly tells you. âYou were so much like her.â
You knew that he was referring to his past. His wife whom no one really dared to talk about. You finally understood. To him, you were a walking and living painful reminder.
âIâm sorry.â You breathed out. The air suddenly constricts in your lungs and you feel the need to get away. Anywhere but here. You turn around and find yourself being pulled into him. Miguel hugs you, and he hugs you tight.
âNo, Iâm the idiot. I punished you for seeing you as someone else.â He confesses. âI should have just seen you as⌠you. You were so bright and so brave, I almost lost it when you took the bullets from Kingpin. Thatâs when I knew my behavior had to stop. I wanted to tell you and I guess I saw this as the perfect opportunity.â
âOh.â You donât know how else to react to this sudden revelation.
âBut I meant every word. About me apologizing for my past behavior.â Miguel continues. âAnd that. Earlier on.â He refers to his relentless counter attack on your tormentors. âI didnât know that you had to go through all that.â
âHey, we all go through things right? Kind of a ticket to join the spider society.â You try to lighten things up. âBesides, itâs nothing big.â
Miguel pries you away gently, a slight frown on his face. âDonât minimize your struggles. You are a hundred times stronger than those three combined. After all, thatâs what made you stood out to me in the first place.â
Your heart swells at his statement. As you hear the waves crashing, it felt as if like it gave you a sense of newfound confidence as well. It was all or nothing now. Youâre inches away from Miguel, his rosy cheeks prominent from the strong breeze that the coastal city offered. âI just have one more question.â
Miguel cocks his head to the side, curious. He doesnât interrupt, giving permission for you to go ahead.
âYou love me. Real or not real?â
He takes you by the waist, lips on yours. It could be minutes or hours before he lets go, leaving you in a daze. But the movement of his lips are as clear as day. One that would be forever etched in your memory.
âReal.â
1K notes
¡
View notes
A Helping Hand (M) ~Seungmin
Pairing: LabHybrid!Seungmin x GN!Reader
Themes: Smut | Fluff | Best Friends to Lovers | Roommates to Lovers
Word Count: ~4k | AO3
Synopsis: After one too many shots of vodka, your best friend confided in you a little problem heâd been dealing with for a couple of months now. Tipsy-you figured that you were more than suitable to give him a helping hand.
Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption ¡ overall hybrid shenanigans ¡ Seungmin has a dirty mouth ¡ pet names ¡ Smut (warnings under the cut). let me know if i missed anyđ
Authorâs Note: canât believe my first ever published Seungmin fic is a hybrid au lmao. got a weird boost of inspiration for this after seeing @starlostseungmin talking about it, so here it is !
Special thanks to @notastraykid for giving her very valuable input to improve the first draft, as well as @comet-falls for letting me know it didnât suck skjdfhsdkjf
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
Smut Warnings: this is, as usual, some monsterfuckery ¡ handjobs ¡ praising ¡ breeding kink (kind of) ¡ hybrid anatomy (knot) ¡ copious amounts of fluids. again, let me know if i missed any
Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
âYouâYou donât have to do this, seriousâOh, GodâŚâ
You swallowed, focusing on your best friendâs face. Focusing a bit too much on the vein that popped on his neck when he threw his head back, on how pretty his eyelashes looked when his eyes fluttered shut, on those pouty lips of his you totally didnât wish you could have on yours⌠All while trying to ignore what you had between your hands, all while trying to ignore the obscene, squelching sounds their continuous movement producedâŚ
âI said Iâd help you, didnât I, Seungmin?â
Seungmin inhaled deeply. His ears twitched, his tail seemed to have a life of its own, it had started thumping against the headboard of the bed the moment heâd sat down and youâd taken a hold of him.
After opening his eyes again, Seungmin looked at your face, and you saw his Adamâs apple bob when he swallowed. âYou didâ.
âAnd I always keep my word, donât I?â You twisted your wrists, never stopping the motions of your hands.
Seungmin sighed, and some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to evaporate with the motion. âYou doâŚâ
A spark of doubt flared in your mind, large enough it was impossible to ignore. Your hands stopped, and the tiniest whine left Seungminâs mouth. âUnless you⌠Are you feeling uncomfortable? I canâ I can stopâ.
Seungminâs hands flew to your wrists, preventing you from pulling away completely. âNo. No, no, please, donât⌠I⌠Fuck, I really want this. I really, really need thisâ.
You wouldâve never expected the afternoon to take you here⌠To your best friendâs bedroom, to him sitting on his bed, with his back against the headboard, and with his legs spread. You wouldâve never expected to have his cock in your hands, barely even out of his lounge shorts. In your mind, this had never been a real, genuine possibility. Yet here you were.
How long had it been since you realised you had a crush on your best friend? Too long, probably. It mightâve been a bit embarrassing, but you truly couldnât even remember a time when you werenât pining over him, a time when you werenât thinking how it would be like to be with him physically, intimatelyâŚ
Although, to be fair, this situation was far more sterile than all those fantasies youâd allowed your mind to wander into only in the wee hours of the night. It wasnât as if Seungmin had confessed his feelings for you, or you to him. It was more like⌠like you were giving your friend a handâliterally and figuratively.
Seungmin was a hybrid. A black labrador hybrid, to be exact. Heâd been your best friend since you were a kid, when the school you attended finally started allowing hybrids as students. You could still remember the first day you saw him, standing in a corner by the lockers. Youâd approached him, mostly because your mother had taught you that hybrids must be treated well, just like youâd treat anyone else.
He was a shy boy, totally out of character for a lab hybrid, but the more you got to know him, the more he warmed up to you, the more you started to see that bright personality of his. As soon as heâd deemed you trustworthy, it was almost like that shyness had never been there in the first place.
He started to come over to your place to hang out or do homework, to open up about his life, and even to show more of his mischievous side. Heâd call you everything from dumb dumb, to human kiddo, to little human, just because he could. But it was fine.
Even if at the beginning it annoyed you that he simply wouldnât call you by your name, it eventually became such a Seungmin thing to do, you just couldnât find it in you to be mad at him when his eyes sparkled so brightly whenever he used his little nicknames for you.
Seungmin was chaotic, he was funny, and he was the most loyal friend youâd ever had. Heâd been with you through thick and thin. Every broken friendship and relationship, he was always there to console you, to hold your hand and tell you it was going to be alright. He was always there for you, without fail. Heâd always joke around and say it was one of his lab traits, but you knew better.
Whether he was a hybrid or not, you knew Seungmin would still be the same Seungmin.
Your Seungmin.
A couple of years ago, you finally got to move out of your parentsâ house. It was only natural that you ended up renting a place with your best friend, considering he, too, wanted to move out, and he didnât particularly enjoy the thought of living with strangers.
Decades had passed since hybrids were integrated into human society. They finally had rights, they were treated as people and not some pet you bought from a storeâno disrespect to pets, they had their rights, too. But pets werenât people. Hybrids, on the other hand, were.
Hybrids had free will, they could reason like humans could, and they certainly deserved to be treated as equals. These were the values that youâd been taught as you grew up, and it was something you believed in still to this day.
Regardless, hybrids still had their animal urges and needs, which Seungmin seemed to have been struggling with for a couple of months now.
The confession happened last night, while you both threw a tennis ball back and forth at each other, after one too many shots of vodkaâto be more precise, itâd been three. Three shots of vodka only.Â
Alcohol wasnât deadly toxic to Seungmin like it was to other hybrids, but his body certainly couldnât digest it very well, which usually manifested not only in the flush that spread all over his face, but also by shutting down every single one of his filters. âI havenât been able to come in two fucking months. Two months! I feel like Iâm dying, dude. I just need to blowâ.
Youâd asked him how that was even possible, how he had not managed to bring himself to orgasm in two months, considering you knew he was a person with a moderate sex driveâbased on the amount of times you had to stay in your shared flat while he had company over⌠His answer was a very graceful âThe fuck if i know⌠Nothing works, my dearest little human. Porn doesnât work. Literature doesnât work. And my imagination clearly doesnât work, eitherâ.
He looked genuinely distressed about it, especially when he sighed, and his tone lowered. âIâve been checking forums online⌠Going anonymous to ask strangers, specifically other hybrids, but most of them said that I needed to find the root cause, that something in my environment could be affecting my physical performance, but itâs⌠Itâs really frustrating, because I genuinely have no idea whatâs going onâ.
âHave you tried, I donât know, getting laid?â was what your tipsy self asked. You wouldnât have asked that question fully sober for sure. You really didnât want to know if Seungmin was out there getting laid these days. It had been a little over a year since you had seen him date anyone, and the thought of him dating someone now, admittedly, made you jealous. Which was potentially very stupid on your part considering you were just friends. The best of friends. Only friends.
âNah. Can you imagine if Iâm with someone and I canât fucking come? Distress⌠Besides, I donât want to just⌠You know, do it with a random person. People are kinda⌠ewâ. You could understand completely why he wouldnât want to go out and hook up with a stranger. After all, some people still saw hybrids as sex slaves, or they were heavily fetishised, so it wasnât exactly safe to partake in one night stands for him.Â
Besides, your best friend was not one for hookups and one night stands in the first place. He had trust issues, especially with humans, so you could definitely understand his predicament.Â
âWhat if itâs someone you know?â You threw the ball back at him just as youâd boldly asked the question, because spirits always made you voice things sober you would never have the guts to say.
Seungmin caught the ball and scoffed, completely sure that no one he knew would want to be that intimate with him, and not think ill of him if he didnât manage to perform.Â
But you had to open your big mouth again, very confidently telling him âAnd what about me? I can do itâ.
The ball suddenly fell from Seungminâs hand, landing on the floor and rolling under the coffee table. His eyes followed the movement like a hawkâor, maybe itâd be more accurate to say like a dog. He stretched his body a bit out of the sofa, not even bothering to stand up fully, trying to get the ball while he chuckled, maybe a bit nervously.
Seungmin genuinely thought you were joking for a second. That was exactly what heâd told you, but then he saw how serious you were about it, and, after a few minutes of silence, he simply said that you should have this conversation sober.
Which you did.
Which took you right here, right into his room, with his painfully hard cock in your hands.
Seungmin knew you wouldnât judge him if he couldnât come. He trusted you enough to be vulnerable with you in more ways than one, to tell you what he needed or wanted, so you would gladly help himâthe fact that you had a major crush on him made you feel a bit self-conscious, youâd admit⌠Like you were taking advantage of the situation to touch him this intimately. But you had already offered it, and he had already accepted it, so you just didnât feel like backing down on your word.
âTighten your grip a bit moreâ, Seungmin mumbled, and once again he threw his head back when you did as asked and continued working his cock. âFuck, yeah. Thatâs itâŚâ
You were starting to heat up yourself. Especially whenever he spoke like that, with the tone of his voice as low as it was. Seungmin was one to swear a lot, very openly, but in this context, it certainly felt⌠filthier. And it affected you. Maybe embarrassingly soâŚ
You couldnât help but swear under your breath when your eyes drifted from his face to his length. How could you not look? When he was there, letting you touch himâŚ
Clear fluid leaked from his tip, dripping all over your fingers and aiding your movement, intensifying those sinful wet sounds that resonated in your ears with each stroke. You knew his specific breed tended to produce more fluids than a human would, heâd told you this before in passing, but you had honestly not expected it to be this much.
Seungmin didnât seem fazed at his slick soiling his clothes. On the contrary, it seemed like he didnât even care at all.
âLike what you see?â
Your head snapped upwards to meet his eyes, and you immediately felt heat rush to your cheeks.Â
âIâm sorry, Iâm trying really hard not to look, butâŚâ You suddenly felt small under his gaze, even if your hands didnât stop. His eyes were so dark, staring right into yours so intensely the hairs at your nape stood on end.
Seungmin always tried not to look people in the eyes, âIt activates this primal instinct in me, itâs a bit annoying sometimes, to be honest. I only make eye contact when⌠when I⌠Well, you knowâŚâ Heâd said once, very vaguely, but even back then, you understood.Â
He didnât need to tell you in which situation he enjoyed eye contact. Whenever you looked him in the eyes, you always felt trapped under his gaze, like you wanted to submit. And, somehow, it also woke the butterflies in your belly. Right now, that feeling seemed to have heightened tenfold.
âYouâre trying not to look, butâŚ?â Seungmin licked his lips, reaching forward to take a hold of your forearm. Not to stop you, but simply to drag his thumb over your skin in soothing motions.
âButâŚâ You swallowed. You figured now was as good a time as any to let the thoughts out of your head, otherwise they would haunt you forever. âYouâre so bigâ.
Seungmin giggled, a sound that he hardly ever let anyone outside of his close friend group hear, the flush on his face deepened, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Adorable, even in this context⌠âYou think Iâm big?â
âHavenât touched someone this big everâ, your pace was still slow, but you made sure to stroke as much of him as you could, as tight as he had asked you to. It wasnât like he was crazy big, he wasnât particularly long, but he was just⌠girthy. Girthier than you had ever seen in your pathetic excuse for a love life. âNot only that, but⌠Itâs just⌠prettyâ.
At that, Seungmin looked genuinely incredulous. âPretty?â
âMm⌠prettyâ.
He was going to speak, but before he could, your movements sped up, and the whine that left his mouth as soon as you did had your insides instantly firing up. It was a completely involuntary reaction, how could your body not react when the sounds coming out of his mouth were this sinful? When the almost canine whines stirred the butterflies flying freely in your belly?
âOh, fuck⌠Thatâs it, baby, just like that, shitâŚâ
You didnât even acknowledge the pet name that just escaped his lips. You were convinced it was a heat of the moment thing, so you swallowed that saliva that had suddenly pooled in your mouth, and continued to focus on your motions.Â
With both of your hands, you went from the base to the head a few times, until you settled one of your hands at the base and the other at the tip. You had heard that the base of a canine hybridâs cock was sensitive, not as much as the head, but much more than a humanâs would be, and Seungminâs wagging tail and content sighs proved that to be true.
You made sure to pull the foreskin with you when you pumped his head, and your eyes naturally drifted to the sight again. Pretty, indeedâŚ
âYouâre so fucking good at this, fuckâŚâ Seungminâs head was tilted back against the headboard, but he was still looking at you through his lashes. His chest rose and fell with his laboured breathing, he was essentially panting, his tongue poked out from between his lips, and the movement of his thumb on your forearm had long since stopped. He was now just gripping your arm, lightly digging his fingers on your skin.
âYou think so?â You couldnât help but ask.
Maybe it was a bit selfish, but you definitely wanted to hear more of his praise. It fed a pool of arousal in the pit of your stomach that you just knew youâd have to deal with as soon as you were on your own and away from his prying eyesâŚ
âFuck, yeah⌠Youâre so good to me, soâŚâ His words trailed off, stopped when he swallowed thickly.Â
You wanted him to continue what he was going to say, you almost asked him to, but before you could, he spoke againâwith an edge of desperation in his voice that almost made you faint.
âSqueeze a bit harder at the baseâ, so you did, twisting your wrist as you went up and down, and the loud moan that fell from his mouth made you dizzy with need. âThatâs it, keep doing that, fuckâŚâ
You worked his cock for a while, all as words of appreciation continued to fly past his lips, all as his slick kept dripping all over your fingers, as he directed more pet names your way. Until something started to feel differentâŚ
âOh, oh, fuck⌠Fuck, shit, donât stop, baby, please, donâtâŚâ
You wouldnât have dared stop, not when your fingers suddenly werenât able to touch where you held him. You kept the motions on the head of his cock, but the base seemed to be swelling under your grasp, loosening it a bit.
âNo, no, donât stop there. Squeeze it. Keep touching it, pupâ, Seungmin pleaded, tightening his grip on your arm while small whines escaped his throat, almost drowned by the sound of his tail thumping against the headboard.
âOh, my GodâŚâ You knew hybrids were anatomically different to humans, but you had never really considered just how much they could be, so it really took you by surprise.
You were experiencing one of Seungminâs hybrid attributes first hand. There, at the base of his cock, a knot was quickly swelling, and you wouldâve never expected how much the sight and feel of it could affect you. Your mind raced, suddenly curious as to how it would feel like if he were pushing his cock into your warmth, how he would stretch you out to your absolute limitsâŚ
Seungmin mightâve been the hybrid here, but you were certainly salivating at the feel of his swollen knot in your hands.
Tightening your grip around his knot, you started massaging it, just as you pumped his head faster, coaxing a string of groans and moans and swears to come out of Seungminâs mouth.
âYour hands⌠Theyâre so soft, so⌠perfect. Thatâs perfect, pup, youâre doing so fucking wellâ.
Seungmin was talking to you like you werenât the one working him up. It wouldâve amused you, had it not been feeding the fire that was burning bright deep within yourself.
You could feel your underwear sticking to your skin, drenched in your own fluids because of Seungmin, and the sounds he was making, and his heavy cock under your hands, and that fucking knot of hisâŚ
âSeungmin⌠Shit, you⌠ThisâŚâ Being honest, you were speechless.Â
âWhat? Huh?â Seungmin finally let go of your arm, instead he cupped your cheek, making you look at him, just as he started to thrust up into your fists. âI know what you want to tell me. Or, at least, I think I do, fuck⌠I can hear how fast your heart is beating, pup. I can smell it all, you know? I wanna know what youâre thinking. Tell meâ.
You licked your lips, staring into his eyes. You were sure your face couldnât be any warmer, yet the heat seemed to spread further the longer you looked at him, the faster you moved your hands and he thrusted into your grip.
âIâm⌠Fuck, I canât help but think how it would feel like inside me, stretching me openâŚâ
âOh, shitââ Seungmin threw his head back. His tail thrashed against the headboard, and his ears were twitching nonstop. âI canâFuck, baby, I can give it to you. Whatever you want, just say it and Iâll give it to youâ.
With your lower lip trapped between your teeth, you took in a deep breath, almost shivering when Seungmin pulled his shirt up to reveal his torso just as he mumbled the most desperate âClose, so fucking close, puppy. Donât you dare fucking stop. Tell meâtell me moreâŚâ
âI want⌠want your knot⌠I want you, Seungmin. So much, so, so much. Need youâ, you emphasised each statement with a tighter squeeze to the swollen base of his length.
âOh, fuck!â
With a few more thrusts of his hips, and a few more twists of your wrists, Seungmin gave you a quick warning, only for your name to fly past his lips, and explode seconds after. Thick ropes of cum spurted from the tip of his cock, painting his torso in the creamy substance and dripping all over your hands. It was so much cum, more than you had ever seen anyone ever produce.
The sounds coming out of his mouth were absolutely pornographic, they entered your ears and shot straight to your aching, needy insides. Needy for Seungmin, for his knot, and his everything.
You kept working his cock, pumping the tip to make sure every drop of his cum came out, squeezing and stroking his knot through it all. Until Seungminâs body slumped against the headboard.
The movement of your hands stopped, but you didnât remove them. The sight was straight out of a wet dream, his torso, his shirt, his shorts, your hands, everything was covered in cum, and you suddenly had the urge to taste it. But you begrudgingly resisted that urge, this was probably not the moment for that.
When you finally looked away from the mess, your eyes found Seungminâs. His chest rose and fell with his ragged breaths, his lips were slightly parted as he gasped for air, and he was looking so deeply into your eyes you simply couldnât look away.
You werenât sure who moved first, maybe it was you, or maybe it was him⌠Or maybe, it had been both.
Before you knew it, Seungminâs soft, moist lips were on yours, kissing you like a starved man. And you retaliated, of course. You kissed him with the same enthusiasm he had, licking his bottom lip to get your tongue inside his mouth, and very quickly, you started to feel lightheaded.
Kissing Seungmin was better than you couldâve ever imagined. Hearing him and seeing him come was a transcendental experience, and you were sure that your brain chemistry had just been altered forever. How could you ever go back to anyone else after this?
The kiss was messy, sloppy, tongues intertwining and teeth sinking on soft skin, producing wet noises all around. You wouldâve honestly loved to stay there forever, kissing him, with his length in your hands and his cum all over your fingers. Unfortunately, though, you needed to breathe, so you finally disconnected your lips from his, and took a deep breath.
Seungmin looked into your eyes, and you looked right back. They were still dark, still alluring, but there was something else, something softer⌠Maybe more vulnerable. The stare-off lasted for a few moments, a few moments spent in silence, until you both broke into a fit of laughter.
Seungmin was practically glowing, he looked possibly the most handsome youâd ever seen him. Even when he was covering the lower part of his face with his hand while he laughed, trying to hide that pretty smile of his after years and years of insecurities produced by the now long since removed braces on his teeth, you still found him incredibly handsome and adorable.
âI take it you enjoyed it? You must have. Look at this mess you madeâ, there was a teasing smile on your lips, but the truth was, you genuinely wanted to know.Â
âAs much as you enjoyed, it seemsâ, Seungmin scoffed, and he gestured between your bodies, where you were still holding his cock. He was still just as hard as he was before he came.Â
âYouâre still hard?â You couldnât hide the surprise in your voice, nor the way your eyes widened at the sight, and it made Seungmin smirk immediately.Â
âBaby, Iâm a dog. My cock thinks it should be inside someone right now, keeping all my cum contained with my knot. Of course Iâm still hard, it wants to breedâ.
âTo⌠to breed?â Your voice was airy, shaky, suddenly unable to contain the feeling of pure arousal you felt coursing through your veins.
âMm⌠to breedâ, Seungmin repeated, and he bit his lip when you started to gently squeeze and caress his knot.
He detached himself from the headboard just enough so he could pull his shirt off. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. His gaze softened further, and he brought his hands to your cheeks so he could softly caress the skin with his thumbs. âThank you. Fuck, I'm so grateful right now. That felt so goodâ.
âOh, please⌠It was my pleasureâ, you chuckled, finally letting go of the head of his cock so both of your hands could focus on giving attention to his knot, hopefully helping relieve any possible discomfort he might be feeling since it was out in the open, unable to fulfil its purpose.Â
The motions clearly made Seungminâs blush deepen. He looked at you for a few bated breaths, and before you could even understand what was happening, you were on your back, gasping in surprise.Â
Taking his discarded shirt, Seungmin knelt on the bed, right between your legs, and he cleaned your hands, as well as his torso of as much of his cum as he could.Â
âYour pleasure, pretty human, hasnât even started yet. Let me make you feel as good as you just made me feelâ.
Tagging: @oiminho ¡ @dundullresident ¡ @straylightdream ¡ @biribarabiribbaem ¡ @dearalice ¡ @alexis-reads-fics ¡ @xcookiemonsteer ¡ @knowleeknow ¡ @ven-fic-recs ¡ @liminaldaydream ¡ @bintificreads ¡ @svngiem ¡ @princelingperfect ¡ @aestheticsluut ¡ @skzhomiehopper ¡ @cessixja ¡ @mimzibee ¡ @hipsdofangirl ¡ @floatingcoffecup ¡ @toplinehyunjin ¡ @goblinracha ¡ @viviixlyy ¡ @kpop-bbdoll ¡ @meloncremesoda ¡ @fawnpeaks ¡ @dalamjisung ¡ @jaiuneamesolitaiire ¡ @lilramennoodle ¡ @stayconnecteed ¡ @iadorethemskz ¡ @junebug032 ¡ @meowmeowhoon ¡ @poutypoutybin ¡ @seo--changbin ¡ @yeetfellx
If you want to be removed (or if i tagged you incorrectly) from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form. you must have an indication that youâre an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works
Š therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.
Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !
General Masterlist
902 notes
¡
View notes
Can you please write a fic where Thorin falls in love with a human girl, but he thinks she is disgusted by his looks? đ
Hi there, Nonny!! I know it took me forEVER, but here you go and i hope you like it! đ
The Harp
Summary: You and Thorin are friends, but then you find out his feelings for you run deeper, and heâs holding back because he feels he is not good enough for you. Â
Pairing: Thorin x fem!Reader (post-sack of Erebor, pre-quest for Erebor)
Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff
Rating: G
Word Count: 4.7k
***
He came into the dining room at the same time each evening and always sat at the same tableâthe one in the far corner, which was also the darkest corner of the room. He was polite, but kept to himself and you noticed how he always sat with his back to the wall and rarely did his eyes pause from scanning the room.Â
The other diners eyed him with just as much suspicion but then again, they all eyed each other with suspicion as well. It was second nature to this lot, as they came from all four corners of Middle Earth. No one was actually from Emyn Vanya. No, every warm body had come from somewhere else to this tiny village on the outskirts of everywhere and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere. Some came to start over. Some came to forget. Some came to do both and some were just passing through. But everyone was from somewhere else and almost no one wished to discuss where that somewhere else might be.
You couldn't help but notice him, for he was a dwarf and the Grey Gander did not see many dwarves in their dining room. And not only that, but he was a handsome dwarf, to boot, with black hair, touched here and there with hints of silver, that spilled over his shoulders in a long tangle of curls. His most striking feature was his eyes, however, for they were the most piercing shade of icy blue youâd ever seen. There was a hardness within those pale eyes, one belied by his polite demeanor and deep, if soft, voice.Â
Night after night, this man came in alone. He sat alone. He spoke to no one other than you when you approached to take his order, just as you did this evening. He was polite, if reserved, and spoke only when absolutely necessary, which was an interesting change from the patrons who grew louder and more opinionated as they dove further and further into their cups.Â
âWelcome back,â you said with a smile as you approached him. âMight I fetch you a drink to begin?â
âThank you. A tanked of ale would suit.â
âOf course. And do you know what youâd like or are you still trying to decide?â
He looked up at you with those striking eyes. âThe hunterâs stew.â
His order never varied and you were certain you could just bring him a bowl of the stew without asking, which was why you couldn't resist a bit of playing with him. âI think we should start calling that your usual. Perhaps we should change it on the menu itself.â
That earned you one of the dwarfâs rare smiles. âI am not so certain that is necessary.â
âWell, youâve been in here eight of the last ten nights and have yet to order anything different.â You couldnât help teasing him. You sensed a hint of sadness in him, one that might explain the hardness in his eyes. And while it was a bit of a risk, teasing this man you didnât really know, you had to admit, his smile made the risk worthwhile.
âBut,â you added, taking your teasing further than you normally did, âyou would have to tell me your name first. I certainly cannot ask to rename it Dwarf Stew. That would give the wrong impression, donât you think?â
A darkness flashed through his eyes and you knew youâd overstepped. Your mind raced as you struggled to come up with something to smooth over his obviously ruffled feathers, knowing your employer would be furious if your flippancy drove away a paying customer. âI mean⌠that is⌠I apoloââ
âNo,â he interrupted softly, shaking his head, âthere is no need to apologize. And youâre right, it would sound odd. So, I suppose then, it would only be fair to tell you my name, wouldnât it?â
Your heart beat a little faster at that. Perhaps it was but your imagination, but his voice sounded lower than it normally did. Lower and bit growlier. Had he, by any chance, noticed you the way youâd noticed him?
No, that was madness talking. Very few people noticed you aside from being their serving girl. You tended to blend into the background far too easily and since so many people in Emyn Vanya were only passing through, they paid little heed to you.
Still, that didn't stop you from replying, âIt would, yes.â
To your surprise, that earned you a laugh. A genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh and one that sent flutters through you as it rolled across the small table in your direction. Like his voice, it was low and silken, and those flutters made you forget your own name for a moment.
âVery well,â he nodded, his eyes meeting and holding yours, âI am Thorin.â
You offered your name in return and added, âItâs wonderful to make your acquaintance, Thorin.â
âAnd yours as well.â
Heat climbed into your cheeks and you ducked your head, saying, âI will be back in a few moments with your ale,â you hesitated, then added, âThorin.â
âI will be here.â
Thorin sat back as you darted off and couldn't believe his cheek. What had possessed him to even think to flirt with you? Your interest had to be only because he was a paying customer, because there was no way a woman as beautiful as you could possibly be interested in him.Â
The first time he stepped into the Grey Gander, heâd noticed you at once, noticed how easily you smiled and joked with the tavernâs patrons. Your laughter was a silvery melody that made everyone turn in your direction and smile even if they had no idea what it was that made you laugh.Â
He noticed everything about youâfrom that amazing smile and intoxicating laughter to your beautiful eyes and easy grace with which you moved about the crowded dining room. You never seemed impatience, or irritated, and even when someone gave you a hard time about something, you never lost your temper and somehow managed to defuse the most volatile of situations.Â
The second night heâd come in, heâd witness such a scene, almost reaching for his sword, propped against the table, when the giant of man actually grabbed you by the arm. He had no doubt heâd have intervened if you needed it, but you didnât. You smiled at the man as you peeled his fingers from your wrist and very sweetly informed him that if he touched you again, youâd turn him from a rooster to a hen in one fell swoop.Â
It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.
A foolish notion at best, as you would never feel about him the way he did you. Why would you? He was a dwarf. He had no home. He had been in line for a throne, but now supported himself by moving from place to place, taking work where he could find it.Â
That was what brought him to Emyn Vanya. His trade was blacksmithing and the village needed one. So, there he was, in the dining room of the Grey Gander, admiring you from afar and wishing he stood a chance at winning your hand.Â
It was just as well, for what did he have to offer you? A king with no kingdom was no better than a pauper, really. Not to mention, he certainly couldnât compete with the men of Emyn Vanya, who were all taller, slimmer, and far more attractive than he certainly was. You would be a fool to even consider him.
But, he watched you from afar, watched as you moved from table to table, how you brought a beaming smile to the face of an old crone, how you soothed angry children bickering over a toy, how you made a crying infant smile by making silly faces until they could do nothing else.Â
How you focused on him as if he was the most interesting man in the room and not, for lack of a better phrase, a homely, homeless refugee.Â
If onlyâŚ
He sighed as you approached with a tankard in one hand. His heart beat so much faster when you met his gaze. His mouth went as dry as the plains between his lost kingdom of Erebor and the city of Dale after the dragon Smaug torched it from one end to the other.
You set the tankard before him. âYour supper will be ready in but a few minutes, Mr. Thorin.â
Mr. Thorin. He smiled, shaking his head. âNo Mister. Thorin is just fine.â
âOh, well that wouldnât be proper now, would it?â Your eyes almost sparkled as your easy smile curved your lips. âAfter all, we only just met.â
âThis is true,â he nodded, reaching for the tankard. Then, on impulse, he added, âPerhaps you might join me one evening?â
You looked taken aback and he immediately berated himself silently. You fool! What is wrong with you?
But then you smiled. âI think I would like that. I have an off night tomorrow. Would that work for you?â
He was stunned, not only by your agreement, but by your suggestion. No woman ever approached him that way. Heâd always been the one to ask. You were bold and he admired that. So, he nodded. âThat would work just fine for me.â
âWonderful. What time?â
âHalf seven?â
âHalf seven it is,â you told him. âAnd Iâll be back in but a moment with your supper.â
****
What were you thinking? How could you just blurt out an invitation to him that way? He must think you a harlot, or a wanton woman for doing so.Â
But at the same time, as you smoothed a hand along your skirts, you had to admit, you looked so forward to seeing him without having to wait upon him. It was a nice change of pace for you. A break in the monotony of your life that was work, sleep, and more work.
Youâd told him where you lived, a rundown little flat above the floristâs shop, and at half eight, when the knock came at the door, you nearly jumped clear out of your skin. Then, laughing at your foolishness, you hurried to the door, before he thought youâd changed your mind and left.Â
You smiled as you pulled open the door. âYou are early.â
âI allowed myself extra time in case I found myself lost. Iâm still new to these parts and this town takes a bit of getting used to.â
âIf you remember the streets run east and west, and the avenues run north and south, you might fare better.â
He bobbed his head. âI would, but there are three florists on this street alone.â
âIt is a very competitive business in Emyn Vanya.â
âSo Iâve noticed.âÂ
You hesitated a moment and then stepped aside. âCome in.â
As he stepped over the threshold, you tried not to dwell on how shabby your flat was, with its scratched and scuffed hand-me-down furnishings. After you paid your rent and made certain there was food on the table, there was not much money left for luxuries such as nice furniture. Normally, it didn't trouble you. This was your home and you thought it cozy, if a bit rundown. But, when you tried to see it through Thorinâs eyes?Â
You saw exactly how awful it must have looked to him. Threadbare sofa. The armchair had a hole in the cushion thanks to a broken spring, which meant that not only was stuffing peeping up from the hole, one received a nasty poke in the backside, should they think to sit there.Â
And of course, there was that awful water stain in the far corner. You had no idea from where it had come, only that no matter how much you tried to paint over it, it bled through. Youâd given up trying when paint fell into the luxury category.
But, he reached up for the frogs at his throat and then whisked his cloak off to drape over his arm. âThis is lovely.â
Lovely? You looked about, wondering exactly what he found so lovely about it. âItâs a bit⌠ah⌠worn, don't you think?â
âLived in, is how I would describe it.â He smiled at you. âHomes should be lived in. That is how they become such. Otherwise, they are but houses, flats, nothing more than buildings.â
You looked back at him. âLived in?â
He nodded. âLived in.âÂ
Then he looked back at you and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. Did he have any idea whatsoever as to how handsome he truly was? Because if he did, he certainly did not act as if he did.
Of course, you kept that to yourself, especially when that night, a deep friendship was born. You had dinner together on the nights when you werenât working. You spent off days together, sometimes running errands with each other, sometimes just doing nothing. He had a knack for the acrostics printed in the village newspaper and the two of you spent your share of days or nights looking up which answers you thought would work. It didn't matter. He had quickly become your dearest friend and while you loved that, youâd also begun thinking that perhaps there was a bit more to your relationship than only friendship.
It was too bad heâd never given any indication at all that he saw you as anything more than a friend.
So you stayed quiet. Autumn gave way to winter and the Yule holiday was only a few days off when you made your way to Thorinâs forge at the northern end of town. A bitter cold wind whipped down the narrow alleyway where his shop was located and you didn't have to look to know you were near it. The carved wooden sign identifying the forge creaked on its hooks as it swung in the wind. Through the swirling snow, you could still make out the word etched into the wood.Â
Blacksmith
Beneath that word, Thorin had carved symbols as well, and when youâd asked, heâd smiled and explained that they were a language called khuzdul, which was his native language, actually. Heâd attempted to teach you some of it, and showed nothing but patience as you fumbled over seemingly simple words. Little by little, though, it became easier and left you wishing you had something like that to share with him.Â
But then you found something. One night, over several goblets of wine, he confessed that he once played the harp, but had lost his when heâd lost his home, but that was all he would say about either the harp or what happened to his home. So, youâd saved a bit of your pay each week and put it aside and then went to the music shop at the far end of town and found what youâd hoped would be a suitable replacement harp. It wasn't a big, grand instrument, as those were far beyond what you could ever hope to afford, but you hoped heâd like it the same. You couldnât remember the last time you were so excited and impatient to give someone a gift as you were this one, which was why you braved the worsening weather. Â
So there you were, at the far end of a gray-shingled building with a roof in need of repair, listening to the almost melodic sound of metal striking metal. The closer you drew to his workshop, the warmer the air grew and as you rounded the corner, a blast of heat hit you square in the face. It was a welcome sensation as your cheeks felt quite numb from the cold.Â
He had his back to you and heat shot through you at the sight of him, shirtless in deference to that blasted heat, the muscles in his back and along his shoulders bulging as he held a piece of iron in one hand, a hammer in the other. The clang rang through you when he brought the hammer slamming against the iron, again and again and you couldn't help but just stare.Â
Your eyes roamed over his naked back, heavy with obviously well-earned muscle, and inked with black lines of varying sizes that covered his entire shoulder, stretched across his back, and into the opposite shoulder as well. You had no idea what the symbols and lines meant, but they looked very similar to the ones carved into the forgeâs sign, so your guess was they were dwarfish runes or words.
The heat in the forge was brutal regardless of how cold it was beyond the walls. Sweat prickled along your back as you stepped closer. You didn't want to startle him. The iron with which he worked began with an orange glow, but slowly, as he pounded it flat, the glow faded and when he set down the hammer and used a pair of tongs to pick up the flattened piece and thrust it into a tub of water, steam actually rose from the tub.
âThorin?â
He jumped, letting go of the tongs as he spun around and now heat shot up into your cheeks at the naked chest you found yourself staring at. Like his back, his chest was just as broad, with black hair swirled from one nipple to the other and down across his belly. More symbols had been inked across it, meeting with the design on his left shoulder.
âI am so sorry,â you stammered, tearing your eyes from that impressive sight to meet his startled blue eyes, âI was trying not to startle you.â
âWhat are you doing here?â
You hugged the package close. âI had to go and pick something up and thought while I was out, Iâd stop by.â You peered around him, at the iron still resting in the water. âWhat are you making?â
âA sword.â He reached for the towel draped over the workbench and swept it across his forehead. âYou should not be in here. Itâs far too dangerous.â
âI will come no closer then. But tell me, who commissioned the sword?â
âNo one. It is mine. I work on it when Iâve a bit of free time.â
âMight I see?â
âItâs not even close to being finished.â He came around the bench and stood before you. His black hair was damp at the temples.Â
âYou don't have to stop on my account, you know.â You took a step closer to him, the urge to reach out and touch him so powerful, it nearly overwhelmed you. You wish you had the courage to tell him how youâd come to feel about him, as youâd had when youâd left your flat. Youâd left there full of fire and determined to confess your feelings for him, but unfortunately, by the time you reached his forge, that courage evaporated like the water in the tub had.Â
âIt would be rude of me to continue.â
âNot at all. I think it would be fascinating, watching you work.âÂ
His gaze shifted slightly to his left and you followed it to see what he looked atâa heavy dark gray henley lay draped over a chair by his desk. Without thinking, you shifted the package to one arm and reached out to catch him by the upper arm as he stretched for his shirt.
âWait, donât,â you said, shaking your head.
âDonât?â
You nodded. âIâwhat is this?â You traced your fingertips along the thick black lines curving his shoulder, unable to believe your own brazenness but unable to halt your touch as well.Â
âItâs my⌠my⌠itâs a raven,â he managed, his voice deep and huskier than usual. He cleared his throat. âThe symbol of my clan, and my family crest.â
You could not keep yourself from tracing along those lines as little by little, the image of a raven wearing a crown slowly showed itself to you. Youâd held back from telling him how you felt for so long, now that the opportunity to perhaps go beyond friendship had presented itself and you were not about to let it slip by. But⌠you had to be careful. It was a delicate matter and that called for delicate handling. The last thing you wished to do was destroy your friendship with him.
With that, you lowered your hand âItâs lovely.â
âThank you.â
âThis is for you, by the by.â You pressed the package toward him. âI know Yule isnât for several more days, but when I went to pick this up, I grew far too impatient to wait.â
He stared down at it. âWhat is it?â
âWell, you have to open it to find out.â
He took the package and slowly unwrapped it and then just stared, his blue eyes growing shiny as he murmured, âHow did you know?â
âYou told me, silly.â You nudged him with your shoulder. âRemember? We were talking about how my neighbor plays the harpsichord and how awful it sounds and you told me you once played the harp. So, I asked Mr. Trumble if he could find me a harp for you and he did me one better. He made this.â
âHeââ those blue eyes met yours, wide and incredulousââmade this?â
You nodded. âHe did, indeed.â
He gazed down at the harp, and then back at you. âIâthisâthis is beautiful. I thank you.â
âThere is one condition to it, however.â You nudged him once more. âYou must play it for me.â
âOh, I couldn't now. Iâd be far too rusty.â
âWell, once you flake off all the rust.â
âFair enough.â He offered up a smile brighter than any youâd ever seen from him. âYou shouldnât have done this, though. Save your wages, donât spend them on me.â
âI didn't mind.â You shrugged as if you spent that kind of money all the time. âAnd itâs Yule, so it was but a small sacrifice.â
He stepped closer. âThis is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, you know. I will treasure it. And you.â
And with that, he leaned in and to your surprise, pressed his lips to yours. You froze at first, caught by utter surprise, as this was the last thing youâd expected him to do. For one maddening moment, you wondered if perhaps you were just imagining it.
But then, his lips moved softly against yours and your toes actually curled in your sensible boots when he brought his hands up to cup your face, and you knew that this was, in fact, actually happening. And how wonderful it was! The sensations that rippled through you were soft and sweet, the crisp, coarse hair around his mouth tickling at first, but then you found you didn't mind it so much as it was a caress of its own.Â
Your head did a slow spin, his kiss leaving you lightheaded and when your hands came to rest on those massive upper arms of his, your fingers pressed into muscle that greatly resembled stone of their own accord. You were afraid your weak knees might buckle on you at any moment.
His kiss was slow and sweet, teasing and gentle and when his lips parted and his tongue swept gently along yours, your head spun even faster. A rush of heat swept through you. Your lips tingled. Your heart beat harder and faster and it took every bit of will you had to not melt right into his arms.Â
When he drew back, his eyes were soft, swirling with an emotion you couldnât quite place and he seemed as breathless as you were as he murmured, âIâve wanted to do that for a very long time now.â
âWhat?â
He nodded. âI do and I did and now I just want to do it again.â Then he paused, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his smile, into his eyes, âUnless, of course, youâd rather I didnât.â
âNo, Iâd not rather that at all,â you told him, smiling as you curved a hand against his cheek. âIn fact, Iâd like it very much if you would do it again. And again. And I think you should keep doing, no matter where we might be.â
A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of his chest. âSo, I am not about to send you screaming into the snow?â
âHardly.âÂ
âAre you certain? I mean,â he rubbed his bearded jaw ruefully, a sheepish smile coming to his lips, âI know people whisper about me and poke fun at me behind my back.â
âThey whisper about you because they are fascinated by you. And no one pokes fun at you. I know they think youâre quite an excellent smithy, judging by what Iâve heard. And I wonât even tell you what the women say about you.â
To your surprise, his sheepish smile faded and a darkness came to his eyes. âI can only imagine.â
âHave I said something wrong? I thought I was complimenting you. Do dwarves not like to hear how handsome they are thought to be?â
âHandsome?â He snorted as he shook his head. âThatâs kind of you, but Iâve seen my own face and that is not how Iâd describe it.â
âWell, perhaps you should but have Mr. Sinclair examine your eyes, for you are not only handsome, but very handsome.â
He stared at you, clearly not believing a word you said. âThank you, but you are just being kind, as youâve been since we met.â
âThorin,â you caught his hands in yours, âIâve been wishing youâd notice me as more than simply your friend, that youâd kiss me, and perhaps Iâve been too brazen in taking the first step. If you wish me to leave you alone, I will.â
âLeave me alone?â His eyes went wide and he shook his head once more. âNo, no, I donât wish that at all. In fact, Iââ
A scarlet flush swept up into his cheeks and he went quiet. You waited for him to continue, your heart hammering away at your ribs. All you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms, to tug you flush against that massive chest, and kiss you until you forgot your name.
âYou what?â you asked softly.
âI lied. About the sword.â He smiled then. âItâs for you, actually. For Yule. I meant it to be a surprise.â
âFor me? But I don't even know who to wield one.â
âWorry not, for I will teach you. When the weather breaks.â
âYou did this for me? You would do that for me?â
He nodded. âI would do anything for you, you know.â His eyes softened then as he smiled. âI love you.â
This was the last thing you ever expected him to say and you could only stare at him for a long moment, as your stupid brain forgot how to process words. The best you could muster was a whispered, âWhat?â
âI love you. Iâve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but how could I when I thought you would be embarrassed to be courted by me. So, I relegated myself to knowing we would only ever be friends, but nowâŚâ
âEmbarrassed to be courted by you? Are you mad, Thorin? Are you absolutely and completely mad? Because you would have to be to think any woman alive would be embarrassed to be courted by you.â You shifted to wind your arms about his neck. âAnd no one has ever made something for me. At least, not something as beautiful as a sword. So, if I didn't already love you in return, I would have most definitely fallen at this moment.â
He smiled. âSo, all this time, it wouldâve only taken a sword to win your hand?â
âIâm a very simple woman, Thorin. You should know that by now.â
Your heart skipped a beat as he eased his arms about your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned closer, his lips just brushing yours as he murmured, âIâll keep it in mind.â
You tried to think of something witty to reply with, but then his lips met yours once more and rendered words unnecessary.
***
Like it? Love it? Reblog it! Comments are also welcomed!
Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketchy-loo6195 @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms
615 notes
¡
View notes
Dear Diary
PAIRING | Sebastian Stan x Actress!Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 4.4K
SUMMARY | You've had a crush on your co-worker Sebastian for as long as you can remember, and you often write about him in your diary. When you accidentally leave it in his trailer, he can't help but look into it, and find out about some fantasies you have about him.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Smut [ Nudes via text, video of male masturbation, daddy kink, praise kink, oral (M&F receiving), fingering, protected sex, squirting, nipple play, female masturbation, male masturbation, cum swallowing, use of a sex toy, little bit of aftercare ], swearing.
Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated đ
Main Masterlist | Sebastian Stan Masterlist
You couldn't help but fantasize about your co-worker and good friend, Sebastian Stan. You have shot a few movies together and over time you have developed a pretty close relationship, which turned into more than just friendship on your side. Luckily for you, you've been keeping a journal since you were 16, and to this day you enjoy writing about your deepest, darkest fantasies, which are more often than not about Sebastian. Since the two of you started filming the movie 'Endings, Beginnings' together, you were practically fantasizing about him all day every day, making all of your scenes just that much more believable.
Dear Diary,
Shot another pretty hot scene with Seb today, we filmed a make-out session today. I'm wishing he would do the same with me every single time, but I'll take what I can get. Feeling his tongue slide against mine felt almost natural, and his hand brushing on my face gave me goosebumps. We have a few more spicy scenes coming up, and I can't wait.
Been thinking about him a lot more recently, especially since starting this movie. I'm thinking about maybe making a move soon, really need to get some good sex soon, otherwise, I'll crumple up like a sad leaf. Honestly, I can't stop thinking about Seb eating me out, and I'm not sure how much more I can take.
Shot another sex scene today, and it's harder to not let the lines blur. Need to make a move on him soon, so he can rail me like no one ever has before. Just got myself off by thinking how good it would feel to feel him inside me for real, wishing it were his fingers instead of my own. Need to let him ruin me soon.
Everything was fine and well, until Sebastian asked you to come to his trailer, saying he wanted to run some lines with you, before the next scene. You happily agreed and went over there, deciding to finish writing in your diary later. You slip it in your bag and walk to his trailer, softly knocking. ''Come in!'' he says and you open the door, smiling brightly at him. ''Hey Y/N, thanks for helping me out, I just can't seem to get into the flow of this scene for some reason, so I hope this will help,'' he said, smiling back at you. ''Yeah of course, I'm always happy to help,'' you say and you put your bag down. Sebastian got you something to drink and accidentally knocked over your bag, but neither of you noticed your diary slipping out.
You run your lines a few times and once Sebastian's comfortable with it, you get up and grab your bag, not noticing your diary is missing now. It slid under the couch you both were sitting on and when Sebastian closed the door of his trailer behind you, he found it, opening it without a second thought. He was thinking maybe it was his, but he didn't recognize the handwriting. He did recognize his very own name though, seeing it written many times on the pages, surrounded by your many fantasies. He read some of them and felt himself get hard almost instantly, he didn't know you had the same feelings for him as he did for you.
He had some time left before needing to shoot the next scene, so he decided to get himself off in the meantime, reading your sexiest fantasies about him to help him out. He quickly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs together with his underwear, leaving his hard, aching cock to spring free. He already started to leak from his tip, so he used some of the pre-cum as the lube to stroke himself, closing his fingers around himself and slowly starting to work his hand up and down his shaft. The more he read, the faster and needier his strokes became, even whining and moaning at the feeling when his climax crept up. Without much warning he came violently over his stomach and chest, feeling completely spent after reading what he has.
Now that he knew you wanted to make a move on him, he couldn't wait. He went back to set but didn't take your journal with him, he was going to give it back later and he was planning on fulfilling some of your dirtiest fantasies you wrote about. ''Hey Y/N, thanks again for helping me run lines earlier,'' he said when he spotted you and stood next to you, almost touching your arm with his. ''You're welcome Seb, always happy to help!'' you said with a bright smile, before walking away and going to talk to the director. The last scenes of the day were shot and the chemistry between the two of you seemed to have skyrocketed, much to the pleasure of the director. Little did he know, it's because Sebastian finally found out about you and your fantasies.
~ A few days later ~
Filming was on a short break so you enjoyed your few days of freedom by spending it at home with your cat, Hufflepuff. You have been a Harry Potter fan since you were a kid, and being a proud part of the Hufflepuff house, it seemed like the only logical name at the time. Nowadays, you shortened it to 'Puff', because she's just very soft and fluffy, looking like a puff sometimes. ''Hey Puff! How is my favorite girl doing?'' you asked when you opened the door when your roommate Lily walked into the living room. ''Hey babe, how's filming? Aren't you... supposed to be filming?'' she asked and you nodded. ''Got a few days off,'' you explained and Puff was weaving and rubbing herself between your legs.
''Also, I thought I was your favorite girl,'' Lily said faking her disappointment. ''You always will be my favorite, babe, you know that right?'' you said before pulling her in for a hug, you missed her too. You lived just outside of New York, but it was still a good hour and a half drive to where you were filming, so you usually stayed in a hotel near the filming location. ''Also, filming is going better than expected, Sebastian and I have a great connection, the director even said our chemistry was practically dripping off the screen, so I can only take that as a compliment,'' you tell her, not telling you're already dripping just thinking about him.
Just when Lily wanted to respond, your phone was buzzing with a text, and you saw it was from Sebastian. ''Ah, speak of the devil! He just texted me, actually,'' You tell her and you open the message. As soon as you open it you audibly gasp and almost drop your phone at the sight. It was a text saying ''I believe I found something that belongs to you'', with a picture of a naked Sebastian, barely covering his thick member with your journal. ''Oh my fucking god...'' you mumble to yourself before locking your phone and quickly making your way to your bedroom. ''What's going on?!'' Lily asked when she followed you, but you couldn't tell her.
''I-It's nothing,'' you tell her, but she doesn't believe you. ''Show me,'' she demanded, but you couldn't do that to Sebastian, he sent you that photo in private, you were not going to show her, but it did make you want to do unspeakable things. Your phone went off again, and Sebastian sent a video of himself this time, but you didn't dare to open it with Lily still in your presence. ''Oh, it's him again, isn't it? Now I want to know,'' she said and before you could react, she grabbed your phone out of your hands and opened the video, gasping loudly. Your sound was still on, and you heard Sebastian softly whining and moaning your name before Lily threw your phone on the bed, you didn't need to see what he sent to know exactly what it was. Sebastian was jerking himself off at the thought of you.
''PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE FUCKING HIM?!'' she practically yelled at you, she knew damn well about your crush on Sebastian, and she threw your phone to the side out of obligation to you, even though she wanted to see more of him. ''In the movie, yes, but you know what sex scenes in movies are like, so technically no,'' you shrug but your face does little to hide the deep crimson color that has spread from behind your ears down your neck and chest. Also, you're rubbing your thighs together to give yourself some friction, afraid you'll combust if you don't. ''Oh girl, you will be having some real sex REAL soon,'' she said with a smirk on her face.
After that, Lily left the room because she had to go to work, and you had the house to yourself, which you would take full advantage of right now. You waited a good 30 minutes after she left before making yourself comfortable on your bed, stripping down to just your underwear and grabbing your favorite vibrator to help yourself out. You grab your phone and click on the video of Sebastian masturbating, to help yourself get off too. When you pressed play, your room instantly filled with the same little whines and moans of your name as before, and you were already a dripping mess before even doing anything.
Not wanting to waste any time, you pushed your panties aside and swiped two fingers through your folds, feeling how soaked you were before softly starting to play with your clit. You softly rub it a few times before putting the same 2 fingers inside your pussy and softly fingering yourself, really enjoying the sounds coming from your phone, together with what you're seeing. You let out a few soft moans yourself and in a wave of horniness, you decide to record yourself getting off. You release your fingers from your pussy and pick up the vibrator, setting it on your desired setting and slowly rubbing over your clit before sliding it deep inside you. You moan a little more and start squirming, feeling your orgasm getting close.
This is the moment you start recording your voice to send back to Sebastian, letting him hear how you're getting off on his video. Your moans become needier and louder, ''Oh, Seb, fuck it feels good, am a good little slut for you,'' you moan when you turn your vibrator up a few notches, making your orgasm more intense than you're used to, but you didn't care. All you cared about was giving Sebastian exactly what he wanted to hear. ''Seb, fuck- gonna cum,'' is the last thing you moan before your orgasm washes over you, and you squirt all over your thighs and sheets, the vibrator being pushed out of you due to the power of your walls clenching down. ''Wan' you to make me squirt like I just did, Daddy,'' is the last thing you said before sending it to him.
All you got back as a response was a picture of Sebastian with a lot of cum all over his hand, stomach, and chest, showing you exactly what hearing you just did to him. Shortly after you get a text with an address from Seb, saying to meet him there ASAP. You look it up and it is still an hour's drive from your house, so tell him you'll be there in 2, giving yourself some time to shower and get ready. You decide to wear a sexy red lingerie set for him, showing off all your curves just the way you like. You throw a simple dress over it, knowing that won't matter and when you're ready, you walk out the door to make the drive over to the address he sent. You arrive there and park your car in the driveway.
~ 2 hours later ~
You take one more look at his message to ensure you're at the right address and when you confirm you are, you walk towards the front door and open a few buttons at the top of your dress, showing a bit of your lingerie and you ring the doorbell. When the door opens you let out a gasp of horror, because it's not Sebastian opening the door, but an elderly woman who you can only assume is his mother. ''Shit,'' you mumble before quickly closing the top of your dress, but you already know she's seen your lingerie. ''Can I help you?'' she asks with her Romanian accent shining through, you quickly assume this is her house, which is why she's here. ''Uh, I'm here for Sebastian, but if it isn't a good time I can come back,'' you quickly say, extremely embarrassed now.
''Seb, honey, there's someone here for you!'' she says into the house, and you hear Sebastian walking up to the front door. ''I've got it from here Mom, thank you,'' he says and she walks back into the house, and he doesn't even attempt to hide checking you out, doing it openly. ''Fuck, I can't wait to see what you're wearing underneath, baby,'' he says as he grabs your hand, and your dress falls open again, revealing the top part of your lingerie, hugging your breasts nicely. Sebastian lets out a little gasp, and you don't need to look down to know he's hard as a rock right now, almost achingly so. Without saying anything else he drags you into the house and up to his bedroom, where he doesn't take much time to take your dress off.
''Jesus fucking Christ, you're gonna be the death of me in a fucking outfit like this,'' he said as he took a step back to fully take in your red lingerie. ''You like it, Daddy?'' you ask, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and giving him a sensual look filled with lust. ''You're even sexier than I imagined...'' he said as he walked over to you, already taking off his shirt and throwing it on the floor beside him. You thought he would manhandle you and be rough, but he was the complete opposite, but you wouldn't mind either way. You've been in some relationships where you partook in BDSM, so you can handle a lot, even though you've left that life behind since your last relationship. Sebastian going nice and slow is exactly what you need right now.
He placed one hand on your cheek, and his other hand on your hip whilst looking into your eyes for permission to kiss you. ''Seb, I need you to kiss me, please,'' you ask him, your submissive side slowly slipping back into place, just like it never left. And with that, he softly placed his lips on yours, and you could tell he wanted to savor every single second of it as if he was afraid that you'd evaporate if he went too fast or rough. You let out a soft moan at his gentle touches, and you snake your arms around his neck, pulling him closer softly. The hand on your hip slowly starts to wander around and stroking you on every single inch of skin he could reach, and he opened his mouth to slide his tongue against yours, asking for permission to enter. You happily grant it and his tongue slips inside, stroking yours with a tenderness you've never felt before.
When your hands move away from his neck and down his chest, he can't help but softly groan when your hands graze over his nipples, noticing how sensitive he is there. You pull away from him and can't help but give him a soft smile, ''Someone's sensitive,'' you say before lowering your head to his nipple, grazing it with your teeth and sucking on it a little bit, giving the other one a bit of a rougher treatment by pinching and rolling it between your fingers. This earns you a deep groan and he can feel his cock twitch at the sensations, but he welcomes it. You switch to his other nipple and now tug and pinch the one you just sucked on and grazed, making them both hard for you. ''Now I'm not the only one with hard nipples,'' you joke as you come back up, attaching your mouth to his again.
This time it is Sebastian's turn to play with your nipples, but first, his arms make their way around your back, unclasping the bra and pulling it off your shoulders, throwing it in the same direction as his shirt earlier. Your breasts are extra sensitive now, and your pussy is already soaking wet, but you're both enjoying this soft foreplay way too much to go any faster, you want to completely get lost in each other's touches and sounds. He grabs both your breasts at the same time and toys with your nipples a little bit, earning him a deep moan from you, and your knees are starting to buckle a little under his gentle touches. ''Seb, please...'' you say, not sure what you're asking for but he seems to understand it without needing an explanation.
He lets go of your breasts for now, and he grabs the backs of your thighs, lifting you and wrapping your legs around his waist. He walks to the wall behind you, trapping you between his muscular body and the wall so he can continue his earlier actions, as well as kiss you again. ''You're sensitive too, baby, it makes me so hard for you,'' he mumbles in your ear before softly biting on your earlobe, earning him another moan. He kisses down your neck and finds your sensitive spot above your collarbone, all the while he keeps pinching and tugging on your sensitive nipples until they're hard. He keeps this up and you can feel your orgasm coming closer already. ''Seb, need to cum,'' you tell him and he keeps doing what he's doing now.
It doesn't take long after that before you're a complete and utter mess in his arms, cumming from just him playing with your nipples, but it is still a great orgasm nevertheless. ''Doing so good for me baby, such a good girl for Daddy,'' he whispers and you can feel your pussy practically dripping all over him at this point. ''Wanna make you cum now, Daddy,'' you say and he happily complies, walking to the bed and setting you down first, so you can take off his pants and underwear to suck him off. When you pull down his boxer briefs his big cock springs free against his abdomen, and you audibly gasp, you didn't expect him to be THIS big, the picture and video he sent earlier definitely did not do any justice to his length in width.
''Such a beautiful cock for me to suck on, Daddy,'' you say before wrapping your hand around it and he throws his head back into his neck, reveling in the pleasure you're giving him already. You lick a stripe from the bottom of his shaft up to his tip before taking him into your mouth, swallowing him whole on the first go and suddenly Sebastian has never been so glad that someone doesn't have a gag reflex. His hips buck into you automatically at the feeling earning you a deep groan from his chest, and he grabs your hair, so he can ground himself a little bit. You start bobbing your head up and down while sucking and playing with his balls, already feeling how heavy they are.
''Gonna cum down your throat, baby, swallow it all like the slut you are for Daddy,'' he gritted through his teeth as he started fucking your face, chasing his high that is inching closer with every thrust. You take everything you give him and when you lock eyes with him, he gives you one more moan before spilling all his cum in the back of your throat. ''Such a good girl for me, swallowing my cum deep down your throat like the perfect slut you are,'' he says with a grin on his face. You swallow every last drop and when he pulls out, you show him your tongue so he can see you did indeed swallow all of it. ''Hm, perfect baby, but now it's my turn to see how dripping wet this little pussy of yours is,''.
You move back on his bed and Sebastian takes his pants and underwear off completely, so he is completely bare in front of you, and you would be lying if you said you weren't drooling over him right now. He sits down on his knees on the edge of the bed, gliding his hands from your ankles up to your thighs, stroking them and moving to the inside, leaning down too to get his face dangerously close you where you're soaked, and where you need him most right now. ''Seb, need you...'' you whine a little bit and he grins up at you, before ripping your panties off. ''I'll get you new ones, don't worry,'' he said before dipping down and licking from your entrance up to your mound, getting an almost pornographic moan out of you at that point.
''Fucking hell, baby, you sound so good for me baby, sound like the perfect slut for Daddy,'' he said and it made your back arch, his praises only making you want to cum even faster. He kept licking and sucking on your pussy and your clit, as well as tongue fucking you as deep as he can go inside your entrance. Your hands have found their way into his hair, and are tugging it more and harder the closer you come to your next orgasm. ''More, need more,'' you whimper and Sebastian happily complies, sliding 2 thick fingers into your entrance at once making you moan his name over and over. ''Oh Daddy, gonna cum,'' is all the warning you give before you come violently around his fingers and on his tongue, squirting all over his face while he laps up every last drop he possibly can. ''Good fucking girl,'' Sebastian praises you before climbing over you and shoving his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself.
''I need to feel you so bad, baby, wanna feel your cunt around my hard cock,'' he whispers in your ear and you happily agree, not able to form words at this point but nodding enthusiastically. ''Ah, can't talk anymore? Already dumb from Daddy's tongue and fingers fucking you?'' he asks and you can't help but nod. ''Get on your hands and knees for Daddy, so I can fuck that tight pussy of yours until you squirt all over my cock,'' he says as he manhandles you onto your hands and knees this time, but you're ready instantly for him. ''Need Daddy...'' you whine as he grabs a condom out of his nightstand and rips open the packet, quickly rolling it onto his hard member and swiping the tip of it through your folds to lube it up even more.
''Ready baby?'' he asks and you nod, so Sebastian puts his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing in until he bottoms out. ''Such a tight cunt for me, my fucking god, you feel amazing baby, doing so good for Daddy,'' he said and your knees almost gave out at his praise, so he held you up by grabbing your hips, and he slowly started thrusting. He wasn't in a hurry or anything, he took his time slowly dragging his cock in and out of your soaking cunt, enjoying every second of it. You start clenching around him a little, and this is when he picks up his pace, snaking his arm around you to toy with your clit. Your arms are completely giving out now so you lay your head and chest on the bed, so Sebastian can reach the deepest parts inside you that make you see stars and all you can do is become a moaning and whimpering mess underneath him.
''Gonna cum for me again, baby? Wanna cum together with Daddy?'' he asks and you whimper your answer, trying to get out something that sounds similar to 'yes Daddy' and that is when he quickly thrust into you with an animalistic pace, he needs to come inside you, but he also needs to make you fall apart around his cock one more time. He folds himself over your back as he keeps thrusting hard and rubbing your clit, before you know it you're coming undone and all you can scream out is his name, squeezing your cock out of your cunt involuntary when you squirt again, this time even more than the last and the bed and Sebastian are soaked. With three more hard thrusts, he finally comes after burying himself deep inside you. When he has completely ridden out both of your orgasms, he slowly pulls out and lets himself fall onto the bed next to you.
''Such a good little slut for me, squirting for me like that. Wish I'd found your journal earlier, wanted to fuck you for months now,'' he said with a smile and a dreamy voice, thinking about what just happened. You're still not able to talk properly, so you just cuddle up to Sebastian for some post-sex cuddles. ''That was amazing, doll. We should do this again if you want to,'' he says and you nod. ''Want to,'' you mumble before almost falling asleep. ''Shall we take a bath together? We can relax in there and you can sleep in my arms there,'' he offers and you nod, letting out a content sigh. He got up and wrapped you around him like a koala bear, so he could run a bath for the both of you. When it was done, you had fallen asleep against his chest with your head on his shoulder, and he couldn't help but smile when he got in the bath.
When the bath was done and you had woken up again, you could finally talk again. ''Thank you for everything, Seb. I've been wanting to do that for quite a while now,'' you say with a chuckle. ''Oh, believe me, I know. You don't know half of how glad I am I happened to find your journal,'' he said before pulling you closer to him. ''I did want to discuss what we are though. Are we together, or is this more of a friends-with-benefits situation?'' he asks, a bit unsure. ''I'd like to be together, wanna be yours if you'll have me,'' you say with a big smile. ''I'd be glad to call you my girl,'' he said with a proud grin on his face. He kissed you on the top of your head before snuggling close to you as you both fall into a deep slumber.
620 notes
¡
View notes
hi hi!! whenever you have a chance, do you think you could do a crush x reader in which the reader doesnât think the crush notices/pays any attention to her, but heâs actually already fallen for her? itâs ok if not!! have a wonderful day! đŤśđžđ
hello! thank you for your request! you ask and you shall receive! i hope you enjoy it! đŤś
tw: none
wc: 0.5k
you wished he could see you the way you see him. but he hardly looks at you. or thatâs what it may seem. maybe itâs because you always find a way to gaze at him. someone tapped your shoulder. you looked up and saw your best friend. âoh hey bsf/nâÂ
âstill staring at h/n i seeâÂ
âwhat? impossibleâ you sarcastically saidÂ
âh/n likes you tooâÂ
âliarâ you confidently said âh/n could never, plus we donât even talk muchâ you said turning your gaze to bsf/n
âok sure, because itâs totally not like heâs staring at you or anythingâÂ
âwhat?â you said about to turn your headÂ
âdonât turn your head, i wanna see how long heâll stare at you forâÂ
âwell when you put it like that i kinda donât want him staringâ you continued âbut he doesnât like meâÂ
âi guess you can keep lying to yourself if that makes you feel betterâ she continued âi have to get stuff from my locker real quick iâll be back in a bitâÂ
âokâÂ
âhey y/nâÂ
âoh hi h/n, whatâs up?âÂ
âi was just wondering if youâd like to get coffee with me after schoolâÂ
âreally?âÂ
âyeah, you, me, coffee, meet at the front of the campus?â
âsure thatâd be great!âÂ
âgreat! itâs a dateâ a date. you thought to yourself âwell iâll see you laterâÂ
âyeah, iâll meet you out frontâ bsf/n was walking back to you and you smiled
âwhy are you smiling like that?â
âyou can stop playing dumb nowâÂ
âwhat? i donât know what youâre talking aboutâÂ
âyou just happen to leave when h/n comes overâÂ
âoh really? i didnât know thatâ bsf/n continued âok fine itâs just because i saw him coming over and i wanted to give you guys some privacyâ you rolled your eyes at herÂ
âbut he did ask me outâ
âooh, when and where is he taking you?â
âafter school heâs taking me to get coffeeâÂ
âhe knows you love coffee huh?âÂ
âi guess soâ you couldnât wait until after school. you were so happy that h/n asked you out. the end of school rolled around so you went to your locker to drop off your books you didnât need to bring home. stepping outside of the school, you saw h/n waiting for you. you tapped him on his shoulder âhi, you ready?âÂ
âyeah, letâs goâ once you got there he ordered the coffee you liked even though you didnât tell himÂ
âhow did you know what i usually order?âÂ
âi just.. itâs because.. look i know we donât know each other too well but i like you, i pay attention to these thingsâÂ
âwhat?âÂ
âiâm sorry to spring this on you like this, i shouldnât have done thatâÂ
âh/n..âÂ
âiâm sorry y/nâÂ
âno donât be sorryâ you continued âi like you tooâ you both smiled at each other like idiots
383 notes
¡
View notes
OUR BABY ANGIE | MS47
Pairing: mick schumacher x fem!reader (she/her)
Warnings: mentions of long-distance relationships; not proofread; tooth-rotting fluff.
Word count: 1k
A/n: This was written per this request. Nonny, I'm sorry for taking forever to answer you, honey! I hope you guys like it, let me know your thoughts đ
my masterlist and my taglist * requests are open!
When you started dating Mick you knew half of your relationship would be long-distance, not only because of his racing weeks but also because you always found yourself super busy with school and work. As the saying goes, it takes two to tango, and well, didn't Mick decide he was the best dancer in the world?!
He did.
Mick Schumacher was not only the dancer figuratively speaking, but he also made sure the music would be there, and that the band would play as you two went.
It felt great to have him as a partner, to share the good and the bad of life and not be afraid of judgment. To Mick, it felt exactly the same, except although your relationship was, to some extent, new, he knew you were there to stay, or at least that he would make sure you stayed as long as possible because life after you made his heart squeeze in sadness. Everyone from his personal life loved you and loved your connection, his mom would ask about you, his sister always talked with you, and his friends would share how happier he seemed whenever you were around or the subject of a conversation,
And then there was Angie, Angie was obsessed with you, she would wiggle her tail excitedly every time she heard your name or your voice, and she went as far as stealing a pair of clothing of yours from Mick's closet to sleep with it in her little dog bed.
That was one of the reasons why Mick thought it would be a good idea to ask you to watch her during this racing week. You loved her and she loved you and he was well aware of how lonely you could get studying non-stop and getting home to an empty apartment. It was joining the useful to the pleasant, everyone would be happy.
When Mick asked if you were okay to stay with his dog for a week while he was away you were surprised and flattered because that meant he trusted you to watch over something he loved and cherish deeply. He trusted you with Angie, it is not the same as when someone lets you borrow a car or a bike, it was a dog.
His dog.
His precious dog.
It was Angie.
And you loved Angie so of course you loved the idea of having her around. When Mick left, after making sure to remind you of her diet, and the little habits you were still getting used to, Angie curled herself on your side and just chilled with one of her toys while you took notes to get ahead for an important class.
Things went smoothly during the week. She would make sure to stay around you, and sometimes it felt like she was watching you and not the other way around. You two would go for walks before you left to work and then when you got home from uni. You would eat together, her little bowl of dog food close to you while you were seating on the sofa or sometimes even on the ground beside her. Your bond just got stronger and you were starting to wish to have her around all the time. It was common to see her when Mick was around, but it wasn't the same as getting home to her or seeing her happy wiggle when you gave her a treat or let her run in the park.
When Mick got home you were laying on the sofa watching a movie after a stressful college day. Angie was laying right beside you, her little head resting on your belly while you scratched mindlessly behind her ears and ran your fingers through her soft fur.
You were almost sleeping when you heard the keys jiggling and the door opening. Angie was already at the door, tail excitedly wiggling for her best friend. Mick got in and dropped his luggage at the entrance before crouching down to pet and hug her.
It felt domestic whenever he decided to come straight to you from the airport instead of going to his own house. It felt like your home was his home, and you loved that. Having Angie around now only amplified the feeling.
"Hi, my angel!! I've missed you too!!" Mick scratched her ears while she tried to lick all over his face, "How was it staying with mommy this time? Did she you enough treats? Did she spoil you, Angie?"
You froze on your spot. Mick had just referred to you as Angie's mom. The mom of his dog to whom he was the dad. And you were the mom.
Your heart rate picked up and everything just combined: how much you missed him, how he was always the best boyfriend you've ever had, how he trusted you, and now, how he saw a future with you, how serious he was about it. You felt almost like crying.
"Hey, meine Liebe," you were so lost in your thoughts you did not see when Mick approached you. A huge grin on his face.
"Hi, babe," you managed to answer while getting up to hug him close to you. His arms circled your waist and smashed your bodies together.
"I've missed you so much," he breathes, distancing himself just enough to find your lips with his in a passionate and longing kiss.
"I've missed you too," you whispered, hands on his shoulders for support.
Mick didn't miss a beat before laying both of you on the couch, your body propped on top of his, his hands imprinting themselves around you.
"Did you refer to me as Angie's mom?" you blurted anxiously after some minutes of silence, too many feelings to be kept inside.
Mick studied your face for a beat, his fingers caressing your jaw and chin, "I-I did, I'm sorry if it-"
"No, no need to be sorry. I'm Angie's mom, she's my baby," you happily exclaimed and Mick chuckled.
"She's our baby," he corrected pecking your lips.
"I love you," it was a whisper, but he was watching your lips and he saw the exact second it scaped between them.
"I love you," he repeated and you kissed him one more time before making space for Angie to cuddle you two on the couch.
You couldn't be happier.
taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mickslover @dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits
578 notes
¡
View notes
I changed the song âIâm A Starâ to fit with my rewrite of Wish
Soooo yeah⌠I donât have any song writing background so please be nice đ
But Iâm pretty proud of how it turned out. Think of it as âYou Never Had A Friend Like Meâ kind of song but sang by Star Boy from the concept art to Asha, explaining to her heâs there to help her out, but he canât exactly make her wishes come true just with the snap of his fingers, because her wishes can only come true through her own actions
Hope you like it!
Lyrics in orange are said by Star âď¸
Lyrics in purple are said by Asha đ
The song has the same rythm as the original, but I recommend listening to the demo when comparing
Iâm A Star (rewritten)
[Verse 1]
Have you ever wondered why you look up at the sky for answers?
Or blow dandelions in the wind? Asking them to better your chances
Why throw a coin down a well? While knowing that's no spell
Traditions passed down generationally, to you (yes, I hear)
And to some unbelievers they may seem like fallacies
Have you ever wondered why you look up at the sky for answers?
[Chorus]
Well, you don't have to look too hard
I'm here for all your question marks
If you're tryna figure out just who you are
Don't look far
In the sky, and your front yard
In your heart and in the scars
If you really wanna know just who you are
You're a starâŚ
[Verse 2]
What! You just said YOU'RE a star! Uh-huh
Well, yes, but you're up to par
Cause' while I do bring that sweet magic intervention
Only you can reach your own destination!
See I'm more of that lil voice that suggests
Whenever you don't know how to handle all your quests
So even though I can't do all of the work for you
I can sure always help
You get it through!
[Verse 3]
A wish is a dream that comes from your heart
See, I'm only here just to do my part
With my magic I'll make that dream go just as planned
But I'm sure that by now you already understand:
My wish coming true, depends on me?
EXACTLY! huh
[Chorus]
For you don't have to look too hard
It's all around and not too far
If you're tryna figure out just who you are
You're a star
Do you know you're a work of art?
Even in the deepest dark
If you really wanna know just who you are
I'm a star!
[Verse 4]
Some say that's just too ordinary
Like us stars just ain't necessary
Because I ain't no genie legendary
Granting all you wish in a second
Well dear, just between you and me
I think I'm more fun cause, you see
I'm here to guide you and assist
As YOU make your own origin story!
[Chorus]
You don't have to look too hard
It's all around and not too far
If you tryna figure out just who you are
You're a star
No matter where you end or start
We're both each other's counterparts
If you really wanna know just who you are
I'm a star (Wooh)
[Post-Chorus]
Ooh, I'm a star
Watch out world here you are (Hey, hey)
You know who's lookin' sharp? (Who?)
Me, I'm a star! (Wooh)
Oh, you're a star
Watch out world here you are! (Hey, hey)
You know who's lookin' sharp? (Who?)
You! You're a star
[Outro]
Ha-ha-ha, wooh
Yes, wooh
Ah-ha-ha, ho-ho
I had a lot of fun experimenting with this song! Please do send suggestions on how to improve it if you have any. Also Iâm curious, if we had gotten Star Boy, who do you think should voice him?
159 notes
¡
View notes
Twilight's Calling ||
Pairing: Twilight x GN! Reader
Words: 2,544
Requested by anonymous: Heeey. First of I love your writing style! Itâs just amazing! Cause twilight is my fav. could you maybe write something like xreader with him, for example theyâre in a battle or smth? Only if itâs okay ofc! Thanks a lot and have a good day and week! best wishes :)
Twilight may or may not be my favorite Link, too (TP was the first game I finished, so I'm a little bias, okay?). I've had this draft lying around unfinished for awhile, so I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to finish it. Here you go, hun đ
Zelda Masterlist đ¤Fandom Masterlist
It's getting pretty late. 'Late' as in the sun has long set and the last time you saw any of the boys was about an hour ago when Time finally managed to herd the remaining stragglers out of the room, although he was being a bit hypocritical seeing as he still lingered in the doorway for a good minute himself afterwards (not that you dared comment on it).
Since their heavy footsteps had faded into silence - and aside from the innkeeper sometimes shuffling down the hall or a sudden 'pop' of the bedside candle - you've been left entirely alone with your thoughts as they dance on the very edge of sleep, but you refuse to lose balance. It's your shift. You promised to be a good lookout and it took a lot of convincing to even get the position, so you can't disappoint no matter how heavy the weight upon your eyelids or heart is.
You've always been well aware of the risks that would come with this mission and from traveling alongside nine heroes of legend; troublesome young men and boys who can definitely handle themselves in battle, however none immune to making possible mistakes. You expected one to occur at some point, yet never wanted the aftermath to be anything too serious.
Wild getting a decent scar on his forehead was a scare when it initially happened, but he was back on his feet within the hour - less than that actually, because if you remember correctly, his quick recovery had been controversial and resulted in quite a bit of bickering. The bottom line is that Wild bounced back with little to no trouble thanks in part to his thick skull. This is different. Twilight has yet to follow his protege's example and it's been hours.
You must admit you underestimated the situation at first due to a lack of context. It's not to say you didn't care about Wolfie when he got struck, however there's a notable difference between a wild 'pet' that occasionally trails your group and the very man you've grown to secretly admire over the months you've spent traveling together. If you had known then that they are one of the same, you would've likely shared a similar level of panic as the Champion, but instead you were left in the dark until Four finally explained Twilight's secret to you.
Even at that moment, although more worried, you figured everything would be okay. Wolfie or Twilight, a fairy should be able to do the trick to heal the worst of injuries, so one can imagine your heartbreak once learning that, for some odd reason, the state of his wounds haven't changed even under a fairy's sacred touch. That's when you truly became fearful, but you refused to show it outwardly - no more than whatever made itself present on your face, anyway.
Making a fuss won't aid Twilight's condition nor will it calm the concerns of your friends, so instead you had mostly stayed out of the way until Time announced everyone should get some rest. At that point, you made your presence known, quick to shoot your hand into the air while volunteering to take the first shift for watching over Twilight. Champion was the only one to fight you for it and honestly, you still aren't certain how you won the argument, but here you are, sitting quietly at Twilight's bedside while trying desperately to keep yourself from descending into madness as you fret over his well-being.
He's doing somewhat better after Hyrule's magic managed to stop most of the bleeding, however his wound remains deep without any further healing progress and his skin is drained into a pale, sickly color clear even through the dim glow of candle light. He looks like shit and you'd guess he feels like it, too, seeing as his face curls into a pained expression every now and again, a whispered groan leaving him whenever he slightly shifts his body (not that he moves that much).
It's gotten a bit chilly tonight, however all blankets in the room have been laid over him and you refuse to swoop as low as to steal comfort from a dying man, so you simply keep huddled to yourself, half praying the next shift will come sooner and half praying it won't because a stubbornness inside you is somehow convinced that the simple act of you being here will keep himsafe from death's hands.
You don't pay much attention to the quiet groan that comes from the bed, having already bitterly accepted that there's nothing that can ease whatever pain haunts Twilight during his nightmares, although you do lift your head when a hand shakes its way into view, barely able to carry itself to the edge of the covers where it collapses with a broken echo from its owner, "W...What time is it?"
You almost cry simply by the sight of Twilight's dull eyes staring up at you, half-lidded and only appearing bright if compared to the dark bags hiding underneath them, but you manage to hold back the tears for the sake of not scaring him.
"I-I'm not sure. After sunset," You answer slowly as to prevent any wobbling to your voice.
"And the others? Is every - everyone else okay?" Hylia, he sounds awful, his once handsome, accent-laced voice butchered by a hollow croak.
"Yeah...Yeah, we're all okay - and don't worry about the shadow. Wild managed to take it down - thanks to you tiring it out, I'd say. You sure gave that thing a run for its money there," You attempt to joke lamely. Although your laugh doesn't carry much life to it, Twilight's expression does soften a tad after the sound.
"...Good..." Is all he says before closing his eyes with a sigh through his nose. Meanwhile you fidget nervously, debating with yourself on whether you should let the conversation die off so that he can continue getting rest or keep him talking while he's able to. You sure do love hearing his voice, after all, no matter how broken it may be; it reminds you that someone as great as him is actually real and, after recent events, still alive.
In the midst of your depressed thoughts, you notice Twilight reach his hand out towards you again - or at least it looks like he's trying to. Really, he only has the strength to lift it palm-up slightly off the covers, yet you understand this movement's wordless request. Ever so gently, as if he's made of glass, you take his hand and sandwich it between both of yours. He's a bit too cold for your liking, a sharp contrast to his normally warm touch, not that you draw attention to that worrying detail.
"...Is there anything I can get you?"
He tries to shake his head, but loses will halfway through the action and instead chooses to simply let his head lull to the side towards you. From there he stares for a bit longer than he means to, his dazed brain struggling to process his thoughts at its usual speed.
"Why aren't you sleeping?"
"Someone has to keep an eye on you," You allow a small smile, slowly reaching forward to help move his bangs away from his face, "We're all taking shifts throughout the night. I was just lucky enough to get the first."
Twilight hums, closing his eyes for a brief second when your fingers brush his forehead, "How'd you manage that?"
"Barely. For a second there, I thought I was gonna have to duel the Champion for it - had my hand on my sword and everything before he finally caved," Twilight makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh which makes your smile more genuine even if he does flinch in pain immediately afterwards, "The real question is how I won against Time...Actually, I wouldn't be that surprised if he's secretly standing outside the door as we speak."
A creak of old floorboards in the hallway makes your eyes dart to the door, almost expecting the man in question to walk in and call you out for your jokes, yet you calm that doesn't happen. Twilight brings your attention back to him by moving his thumb against your hand, "Don't tell 'em, but I'm glad it's you here. I like having ya' here with me..."
You press your lips, hoping it'll help you ignore the heat against your cheeks. That must be the first time Twilight has ever openly said he 'likes' anything related to you; you're certain you'd remember any other instances of such a milestone. It might not be the exact sentence you'd want him to use the word in, but it's a step in the right direction, so you'll take it.
"I like having you here with me, too, Twi...which is why I've officially decided that I'm too selfish to let you die on any of us. I don't care if I have to fist-fight Hylia for it; I'm not letting you get out of this journey so easily."
"That right?"
"I swear it on my life."
He chuckles weakly, although the sound is taken over by a fit of coughing. Promptly you pour a small glass of water using the pitcher kept on the bedside table before gently helping him sit up to take a careful sip.
It's insane for you to think that only a few weeks ago, you had been secretly watching him move hay bales at Time's place effortlessly. Now he lies here in bed struggling to hold a conversation, his muscles shaking horribly by the simply action of prompting himself up even slightly. Seeing him like this makes you feel awful, but you also consider yourself blessed to be the one taking care of him during a low point like this, ensuring that he's properly cared for and tended to almost like a spouse would.
"Seems like I'm starting to lose you, farm boy. You should relax and get some more sleep," He makes a face and seems prepared to argue, however he must not have been able to think of anything convincing to say - that or the aching in his bones has become too hard to ignore. Either way, instead of saying a word, Twilight nods droopily before inching his way back down against his soft pillow while you fix the blankets over him again.
"Look on the bright side: make it through this and you'll probably get special treatment from here on out. Get your bags carried for you, have whatever meals you're craving be made each night...If you hobble around a little I'm sure you could even get Time to fuss over you -"
" - And what about you?" Twilight quizzes and you can't tell if he's being serious or just teasing. It feels like the latter, yet the way he watches you while awaiting your reply makes you feel another way; soft and warm, but a tad anxious at the same time, "What can I get from you?"
You pretend to think, although in truth, you already know there wouldn't be any limitations for what you're willing to give. If he asked for the world right now, you'd figure out some way to gift wrap it for him...but that's too embarrassing to admit aloud, "...Depends on what you're thinking and if you can swing it the right way."
He hums, once again staring at you just long enough to make that anxious feeling really prominent. Is there something on your face that no one told you about earlier? Is he judging your messy hairdo that you had no time to fix since the battle? Did you sound too flirtatious in your answer? Maybe his injury has given him the ability to read minds, so now he knows just how desperate you are to earn his affections!
"...If I asked you to stay with me, would you?"Â Twilight whispers so quietly that you barely hear, yet you do.Â
"I, uh...Time will be here in an hour or so for his shift, but I won't go anywhere until then, okay?" Not even your poor excuse at smiling can save your stumbled words, yet you pray he doesn't look beyond either. He's loopy from such a stressful day, so it makes sense that he's have trouble properly wording questions. It also makes sense for him to be scared to be left alone - anyone would be in such a state. He doesn't have to worry, though; between you and the boys, someone will always be by his side throughout the night. You'd expect that knowledge to be a relief for him, however Twilight only frowns and looks away with a surprisingly depressed look in his eyes.Â
Fiddling nervously with your hands upon your lap, you ask carefully, "...Unless you're wanting me to watch over your for the whole night? In that case, I wouldn't mind staying if it would make you feel better. I'm sure the others would be fine with it if they could just check in here and there."
Twilight presses his lips, refusing to look directly at you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that based on his continued reaction, you're still somehow missing the point of his question, yet no matter how much you rack your brain, you can't think of what else he would've possibly meant.
You were tempted to ask for more clarity, but Twilight speaks before you can, "...I'd like that."
"Yeah?"
He nods bashfully which melts your heart in a way you're sure would be shamefully clear if he were only looking in your direction.
"...Well, since you took one for the team -" Scooting your chair closer to the bed allows you to cross your arms over the mattress and rest your head on top of them. Desperately you try to ignore your nerves and the cute way Twilight curiously looks over at you, "- I'll stay for the night if you promise me one thing."
"Hmm?"
"Stay with me, too? Without you, I might just loose my mind. Don't tell anyone else, but you don't drive me nearly as insane as some of the other boys do,"Â not in the same way at least.
The corner of Twilight's lips turn upwards, his hand taking it's time to move over yours. The second it makes contact, you take the chance to hold onto it, "...Sounds like a deal..."
You match his smile easily, "Get some sleep, Twi. I'll be right here when you wake up, so just focus on getting better for me, alright?"
He hums one last time, drifting off to sleep as commanded where he seems to be far more peaceful than earlier. As promised, you remain by his side until morning, eventually falling victim to quick naps yourself only disrupted whenever someone else sneaks into the room to see how things are going. You're certain you'll be tired tomorrow with an aching back after spending an entire night hunched over, but that's a small price to pay for someone like Twilight. It'll all be worth it to see him recover, granting you even more time to spend by his side through thick and thin.
228 notes
¡
View notes
Hi! I'd like to order assorted macarons + sparkling champagne from the mis. menu with Tartaglia, Kazuha and Azul (separate), with red velvet cupcake + red bean mochi from the midnight menu, please! Best wishes for you đđđ
yandere!tartaglia, kaedehara kazuha, azul ashengrotto x (gender neutral) reader
cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, toxic ex-lovers, nsfw, non-con, (cyber)stalking, obsession, gaslighting/emotional manipulation, murder & use of knife (for tartagliaâs part), mentions of alcohol/intoxication (for kazuhaâs part), mentions of disordered eating (for azulâs part)
note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! best wishes for you as well! enjoy your order!
[lunar love hotel]
Ëâ¡ ÍÍÍÍâłâĽ á´á´Ęá´á´É˘ĘÉŞá´
â Tartaglia seeks the thrill of battle first and foremost; romantic love has usually been second to that. Though after spending many months in a relationship with you, heâs seen just how enjoyable it truly is. As ideal as settling down would be, itâs a lifestyle he canât yet enjoy because heâs a Harbinger and the nature of his job has him traveling often when heâs given a new mission.
â For those reasons, he canât spend nearly as much time with you as he wants to, and he hasnât told you of what he does for a living. You could dig if you really wanted to know the truth; he wasnât going to stop you. But when you meet with him next and you tell him that you donât think this relationship is going to keep working, he realizes two things. One: He likes you more than he initially thought, no longer seeing you as a passing amusement. Two: He knows more about you than you know about him, and what you donât know is that he loves a good chaseâsalivates over it like a starved man at a buffet.Â
â Tartaglia will be casual about the break-up. He understands it because his job has him traveling all over. He might even offer you a bashful apology to further smooth things over, telling you that you deserve someone with a more open schedule. And itâs a very calm break-up; you look so relieved after the fact. He treats you to one last meal before the two of you part ways for good, with you assuming all is well. Tartaglia offers you one final smile under the stunning lantern light in front of Liuli Pavilion. âSee you later,â he says, his sincere features illuminated under the light.
â Tartaglia is not Tartaglia in your eyes. Heâs always insisted you call him Childe. Childe was sweet and fun, always spoiling you and keeping you away from the Fatui for your own good. Tartaglia, on the other hand, is everything Childe did not show you: a ruthless, battle-hardened hunter who hungers for a good fight. Itâs easy to use his time for missions to stalk you, especially the ones that place him in Liyue, where youâve been living.Â
â At first, youâll think youâre seeing things when you spot a familiar head of orange hair amidst the crowded marketplace. But then youâll catch him too often in your peripheral and it feels like less of a haunting and more like a tangible thing.Â
â And then youâll conveniently run into him, and heâll be charming and sweet to you, acting as he always has, while he offers to pay for the fruits in your hands or take you to another restaurant for lunch. You take him up on his offers because who are you to decline good things? Despite being ex-partners, you can still be friends.Â
â He becomes a stifling presence in your life. It will feel as though youâre always running into him, always accepting his goodwill, always leaving satisfied and pleased to know there is no hatred between the two of you even after the break-up.
â But then the line between friends and something unhealthy is crossed when he breaks into your home. Of course you donât actually know if it was him. But there was a home-cooked meal left for you on the table (your favorite dish, actually), along with a beautiful, handcrafted accessory you had been saving up for, and you have an inkling that it might be Childe. But Childe isnât like that; heâs sweet and harmless, right?
â You think you saw him standing at your bedside one night. Youâre not sure how he gets in. You think you might be going insane because every night you think you see him heâs never truly there. But there are traces of him scattered throughout; you think heâs doing this intentionallyâto show you that no one else is capable of tormenting you quite like he can.Â
â So you play his game. You decide that youâll stay up late in hopes of catching him and reporting him the Millelith. You even commission a Millelith solider to stand guard outside your house for the night, promising to pay him handsomely if he just watches over your residence for the evening while you remain inside, holed up in your room with a knife. Youâre ready; youâre not sure what youâre ready for, but youâre ready nonetheless.
â Until you arenât. At some point, youâve slipped into slumber and when you wake next you find yourself pinned under Childe, who smells terribly of iron. Thereâs a faint speck of something on his cheek and you donât dare look at his clothing, horrified at the thought that he managed to kill someone so stealthily and you never woke to a single scream. He smiles at you, a hunter having caught his prey, and youâre too frozen with terror to do anything but stutter through a myriad of hopeless questions.Â
â âCat got your tongue?â he asks, smiling down at you, and he plays soft so masterfully. But his eyes betray him. Empty and soullessâdevoid of any form of warmth. Blank slates. It occurs to you that heâs holding your knife. âYou should be more careful, you know... Sleeping with knives isnât very smart, sweetheart.â He could use his Vision if he wanted toâcould summon a pair of dangerous water blades and hold them at your neckâbut thereâs something much more exciting in pure physical strength and the sharpness of a blade not created by the elements.
â Twirling the knife in one hand, he runs the blade up the length of your nightshirt, the tip nearly at your throat. Thereâs a wild look in his eyes now, a crazed glint that tells of his true intentions, and the horror only allows you to plead in desperate whispers rather than attempt to fight him.Â
â âDonât be like that,â he says with a soft tut, having sliced through your shorts next, his free hand palming your most private area. âWeâve done this before. You know how I am in bed. I wouldnât hurt you.â He exhales a breathy chuckle. âToo much.â
â When he slips two fingers into your mouth to coat them in your saliva, you almost bite down. You think heâs expecting you to do that because he laughs at you and says, âIf youâre going to teeth, youâd better be prepared to be repaid tenfold...â You donât have the bravery to test him on that.
Ëâ¡ ÍÍÍÍâłâĽ á´á´á´á´
á´Ęá´Ęá´ á´á´á´˘á´Ęá´
â You will never see a bad side of Kazuha. Itâs not that he actively hides terrible sides from you. Itâs just that heâs always so sweet, polite, and patient that thereâs never any chance for remotely bad things to slip through his usual demeanor. And since he always seems like the perfect partner, your relationship must have reflected that. It did, until you realized that the life of a wanderer is not very ideal for you, especially since you have friends and family that youâd rather not leave behind for extended periods of time.Â
â So youâd made the tough decision to break up with Kazuha after nearly a year of traveling alongside him. If he was surprised by your admission, he didnât let it show. Kazuha is aware that all good things eventually end, and so he tells you that the time he spent with you will always be valuable. He shall cherish the memories heâs made with you thus far and, should the wind will it, the two of you will meet again. Â
â The wind must really wish for your paths to converge frequently, for you almost always find yourself stumbling into Kazuha one way or another. The first few instances were completely coincidental (or so you thought). Heâd happened across you while you were fishing, while you were running some errands in the city, while you were eating breakfast with friends at your favorite restaurant.
â Though you thought each meeting was going to be terribly awkward, Kazuha was so friendly and his amiable nature immediately puts you at ease and warms your friends to his presence. Heâd ask if it was all right for him to join, if it was all right for him to lend you a hand, if it was all right for him to accompany you on your walk home. And youâd said yes every time because how could you not when heâs so princely?
â You thought it was strange, the way heâd start to make appearances in your daily life so often you began to question whether he really intended to continue his lifestyle as a wanderer. When you asked him about it, he had smiled pleasantly and said that he was in the process of planning his next journey, which would have satisfied you if it didnât feel so...uncharacteristic. Kazuha only ever plans the bare essentials, preferring to let happy happenstances guide him in his travels.Â
â Youâre not sure if itâs stress or paranoia or a mix of both, but youâre certain someoneâs watching you. You feel eyes, but you never see them. You confide in Kazuha and he offers to be your guard for the time being. Heâs skilled in combat; he can protect you. You agree, but itâs only because you know how well he wields a blade and utilizes his Vision. Still, you canât shake the feeling that the eyes only ever cling to you when he isnât with you.Â
â Kazuha loves every side of you, including the ones that are most clumsy. He finds them to be endearing facets of youâfacets that make you stand out amidst a crowd of many. He would never hurt you. In fact, it weighs heavy on his heart to know youâre so frightened. But he assures you itâs nothing. He says that the wind has a habit of making those who feel particularly guilty watched. But that shouldnât be the case with you, right? You havenât done anything that would warrant guilt, have you? Itâs manipulation in the smoothest of forms; you never suspect he pulls at the emotional harp that resides within you, plucking strings to create a tune befitting a believable storyâa story that makes him seem right each time.Â
â The one night youâre afforded a break from everything is the night you find yourself drinking with some friends, drowning fears and sorrows in lively chatter and alcohol. Kazuhaâs with you, as always. He had claimed it was to be there for you in case you drink yourself silly. At the time you said that that wouldnât happen, but hours later youâre leaning on him for support as he helps you trudge back to your lodging for the night.
â With this close proximity, he can admire your lovely features without having to worry about looking impolite for staring so much. He tells you how perfect you look, but the words donât quite reach your ears. You mumble something drunkenly, burying your face in his shoulder, and he canât help chuckling. Youâve always been the cutest.
â Initially, he had planned to take you home and look after you until the morning sun rose or you had wokenâwhichever firstâbut with the way youâre rubbing against him, coupled with your very soft mumbles, has him redirecting your route to a secluded strip of alleyway in a quieter part of Inazuma City. He has you pressed against the wall of a building, the both of you shrouded in blood-red lamplight, with his knee sliding between your legs.
â At first you kiss him back, licking into his mouth with desperate, heated fervor, your arms thrown around his neck, and he relishes in the taste of you, even if most of you tastes like fine sake. But then youâre pulling away, placing your palms on his chest to hold him back. You try to look at him, but youâre so intoxicated that you sway, your eyes flicking all about him.Â
â Your speech slurs when you tell him that the two of you shouldnât do this. He looks at you like heâs working out a difficult problem. âWhy not?â he asks, an eyebrow raising curiously. âI thought you loved me.â And you do. Wait. No, you broke up a while ago. You only see him as a friend now.Â
â Kazuha still smiles even as you struggle to work through a coherent sentence, leaning in to press a kiss to your throat. He tells you of how much he loves you in all manners of ways: poetic, filthy, filthily poetic. His hands wander all over, squeezing you in the softest of places. He adores every inch of you, and though his touches once soothed you in the past you seem intent on stopping him.
â It does sting to know youâre so averse to him even in a compromised state, but you wonât be once heâs slotted himself inside you, keeping you pinned against the wall while he holds you up and ruts into you in the exact way you like. You can try to protest, but when your tongue is tied between objections and breathy moans the latter is quick to drown out the former. Heâll swallow all protests in sweet smooches.Â
â By the end of it, he gathers you in his arms, holding your shivering frame against his flushed one. He asks if you love him. You say yes, but deep, deep down thatâs not true. And the eyes that have pursued you for half a year now finally close.Â
Ëâ¡ ÍÍÍÍâłâĽ á´á´˘á´Ę á´ęąĘá´É´É˘Ęá´á´á´á´
â Azul had smiled through the break-up, nodding along and uttering words of understanding. He intends to look civil about the entire thing, but he certainly doesn't feel civil.Â
â By his standards, two and a half years mean everything to him. Time is money, as they say, yet when it came to his relationship with you time felt much more precious and priceless. In the back of his mind, he always had his doubts and fears that you might leave him one day and heâd be all alone once again.Â
â Itâs fairly simple to keep tabs on what you do. He had been with you long enough to know all about your habits, the places you like to frequent most, the friends you talk to, and even what days you shop for groceries (which he makes note of in a journal). Heâs a busy man, so most often heâll send one of the Leech brothers (most likely Jade because Floyd prefers to approach you outright and that goes against the entire meaning of discreet) to track you throughout your day.Â
â If youâve blocked his Magicam account, heâll just make another secret account. And another. And another. And another. Heâll make as many as he must in order to stay updated on the happenings in your online life, to see what posts you have been tagged in, to follow your digital footprint like a bloodhound.Â
â Azul wants to make it seem like heâs moved on when he goes about his daily life, all charming smiles and pressed suits, and when heâs distracted with work itâs easy to temporarily forget about what ails him. But when heâs alone and he gives himself time to think, thoughts of you come creeping in. Heâs had to stop himself from spontaneously texting, calling, even emailing you just to connect with you again so that he doesnât look like a desperate, pathetic ex-boyfriend.Â
â Azul wonât allow you to cut him out of your life. The two of you were meant to be together forever. Who else could have loved him, flaws and all, but an angel? Sure, you may have broken up with him as softly and angelically as you could (and he may have cried over it for hours later that same day), but that doesnât make you a bad person. He still loves you, even if you hurt him, and he wants you to love him again.Â
â If thereâs something wrong with him, heâll work to fix it. If itâs his looks, he can change his diet habits and eat less to become prettier and skinnier. He can change the makeup brand he usually wears for something you like. If itâs a certain part of his personality, he can bury it and pretend it doesnât exist. He can mold himself to your ideals. He can become your perfect lover. Whatever it takes to be loved by you again, heâll do it.Â
â Azul thinks heâs dreaming when he gets a call from you, and it takes all of his restraint not to answer with a hasty confession of how much heâs missed hearing your beautiful voice. He forces himself to sound calm and collected and civil while you explain that you found some of his belongings in your apartment while cleaning and that you want him to pick them up within the next few days otherwise youâll give them away.Â
â Azul cannot contain his smile, nor does he realize how fast heâs agreed. He says heâll stop by bright and early tomorrow morning. Nothing else matters in this moment. The frigid indifference in your voice doesnât matter. The fact that you ended the call right away after that doesnât matter. All that matters is that heâs going to be able to stand in your apartment and see you again after months of watching from afar. Heâs so excited heâs not sure how heâll fall asleep.Â
â Your apartment is exactly how he remembers: comfortable, warm, and welcoming. Youâve put everything of his in simple, unlabeled boxes, which stings a little. Do you really dislike him that much that youâd prepare everything in advance just to avoid spending more time with him?Â
â You canât even look at him. When he steps inside with a kind smile, you greet him curtly and tell him to take his stuff. He watches you walk off to the kitchen to continue cooking a breakfast that smells so delicious. Heâs always loved your cooking. Azul glances between the boxes and the kitchen that waits down the hall. He can gather his belongings later; right now he has to appreciate this moment and draw it out for as long as he can before you force him out.
â As usual, thereâs a certain peacefulness that envelops you when youâre so focused on cooking, your back turned to him when he steps into the kitchen. Heâs not sure how many times heâs fucked you against that very countertop, in this very room while you were preparing a meal, but he misses those moments of intimacy.Â
â You donât startle when he presses himself against you from behind, his arms caging you in against the counter, but you do attempt to shrug him off. You remind him that if heâs taken his belongings he should leave; youâll even walk him to the door. But Azul doesnât want to leave. He wants to stay here. He wants to be able to hold and kiss you again, and thatâs exactly what heâs going to do.
â âI love you so, so much,â heâs telling you, mumbling it against your skin through kiss after kiss, playful bite after bite, while his hands slide under your shirt to fondle your perky nipples. You can protest and call him names all you want; soon youâll be feeling too good to keep up those nasty insults. Soon youâll love him again.
â Itâs been so long since heâs been inside youâso long since heâs had you folded over on the counter, babbling incoherently through yet another orgasm, but it feels so nice to touch you, to hear you crying and moaning his name so sweetly, to smell you, to be with you once more. And though he may have made a few mistakes in the past, this time heâs going to show you every bit of his honest love, even the sides that are twisted. Since youâre his angelfish, youâll accept him as he is, wonât you?
930 notes
¡
View notes
đStar Notesđ
đ§¸Taurus also represents chilldhod but in a different way. This is usually childhood, which always accompanies you or something you always have with you. Let's say love for movies, music, food. Childhood friendships. It's usually something pretty that stays in your memory.
đSaturn is also the planet of vows. So when we commit to vows and things related to that, it is saturn. So how well you keep your promise depends on where you have saturn and in which sign.
đŹSaturn in 9th house- can give you a lot of pessimism, a negative view of life, it can happen that you lose the meaning of life or see no faith in anything. Saturn can be quite difficult here because the 9th house represents optimism, happiness, being alive, the moment, the world, enjoying life. And saturn here can take that away from you. That's why many people with this placement have trouble finding meaning. You want to find the meaning, but saturn keeps putting you before the lessons.
đ¤Saturn in 8th house-These people can become overly concerned with death and become obsessed with it. Many times they fear death - but saturn here gives them long life.
đPluto in 11th house you prefer to choose friends who will give you the feeling that you can trust them, have depth in them and with whom you will know that you are always their priority.
âď¸Saturn in 11th house you like to gather friends who give you the feeling that they will stay and that they are stable. You often find yourself in situations where you are the one who can drive others home, help them and be the one responsible
đŠ¸Mars in 11th house you find it hard to keep friends or you always fight with them. Mars can make you quite aggressive and angry.
đNeptune square MC- donât ever let other people ruin your dreams! Always follow what you want and what you see value in. You have to always dream and dreams are real if you believe in them.
đśď¸Scorpios are often surrounded by dark things in life. 8th house placements or scorpio placements - people are obsessed with you, you can attract a lot of possessive people, people who are jealous, and many times people pursue you. Also things related to weapons. A lot of strange things can happen to you. It is worth always paying attention to the people around you, because you never know who might be the one who wishes you ill.
đMutitable placemets are often prone to doing things that are not legal. They tend to do things that are not thought through. They often have problems with the police and are also capable of killing someone.
đVenus retrograde in the natal chart has commitment issues. These people want to have someone but on the other hand they are afraid. Because you can have problems with trust and problems with the fact that everyone will always hurt you. So even when you really like someone, sometimes you show a different energy than you would like.
đPeople with pluto in 4th house have a mother who controls them and tells them what they have to do. Ever since childhood, you can feel that you can do everything your mother tells you and you don't have your own personality. Many times these people grow up prejudiced or jealous of other people because they themselves never got what others have.
đPeople with uranus or neptune in 6th house many times they have strange health problems. And many times they do something spontaneous or reckless on their body (tattoo, piercing, etc.). And then they regret it or they don't like it. They have a very strange attitude towards their body. And they are many times more sensitive than others. They can, for example, have a headache from ringing in the ear.
đĽMars gives you energy and shows your energy outwards. How energy do you give to others or how others feel when they are with you. For ex.: Mars in Sagittarius gives you energy for life itself. You can find something positive and alive in all things. You like fun things, crazy things and spontaneous moments. At the same time, you also emit childlike energy. People feel like they can dream around you. And they feel relaxed, fun, alive with you. Because you can bring out the best in people. At the same time, you are a person who does things in the moment: for example, spontaneously diving into the water, looking at the stars, staying up all night. Mars in Pisces people can be impressed by your spiritual energy, fantasy dreaming, calmness. You can awaken the dreamy side in people. You are a person who is in your own world and likes to do things that are magical and beautiful. Mars in Virgo- you are an organized type of person and you can quickly make people feel more organized around you. you are an organized type of person and you can quickly make people feel more organized around you. Being around you can make people feel like they want to do more for themselves. Mars in Libra- you have a taste for fashion and beautiful things. You bring out a beautiful side in people. People feel comfortable around you.
1st house represents your appearance, self-confidence, energy, beauty, figure and everything related to your personality. So Uranus here can make a person unique, different and unforgettable. People can look up to you and you can make a big impression on them. Usually these people have a special style that some people would never wear but it looks amazing on them. But it depends on the aspects. Neptune makes you dreamy, artistic and at the same time a person who can be like a character. U can be who you want to be and people will believe it. Sun makes you confident , proud. U can light up the room when you walk in. Moon makes you moody but also very warm person. People can find you very safe when they are around you.
đ
I think that sun in 9th house is the most beautiful placement for sun to be. Since you shine above the whole world here, traveling brings a lot of light and inspiration out of you. You can inspire people to become something they've always dreamed of. In places you can find something that others may never will. It's a gift!!
-Rebekahđ¨đ§¸
791 notes
¡
View notes
Noah
An: My first Noah fic I hope you like it. Let me know what you think đ I always get nervous writing new people for whatever reason!
Noah Sebastian x reader
No warnings just fluff
Words: 2kish
Noah Master List
How did this happen?
You didn't mean to fall in love with Noah.
He was just a friend, nothing more. At least, that's what you thought.
You met Noah at a friend's birthday party five years ago. He was charming and handsome, but you didn't feel any sparks. He had a warm smile and a friendly handshake, but nothing that made your heart skip a beat. Like you, he was into music and photography, but so were many others. You exchanged numbers and stayed in touch as friends, but nothing more.
That changed when he asked you to look after his apartment and pets while he was on tour. You agreed to help him, thinking living in his place in a different city and state would be fun.
You didn't know that it would also bring you closer to him.
His apartment was cozy and colorful, with posters, books, and instruments. It smelled like coffee and vanilla, his favorite scents.
It felt like home, even though it wasn't yours. You loved spending time there, playing with his dog, and you read some of the books that stayed on his shelf. They looked like they needed some love, and you couldn't stand seeing the books covered in dust, alone and uncared for.
Noah would call you almost every night to check on his pup, leading to more extended conversations. He would tell you about his adventures on the road, the places he visited, and the people he met. He would ask about your day, work, and hobbies. He'd make you laugh with his jokes and stories.
"You're so fuckin cool, you know that?" He said one night.
You felt your cheeks flush. "No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are. You're doing me a huge favor, and I don't know how to thank you enough."
"You don't have to thank me."
You heard him sigh on the other end of the line. "Well, I owe you dinner or drinks, something like that, when Iâm back in town."
You felt your heart race. "I could never say no to free drinks and dinner."
You realized that you had more in common than you thought. You shared the same sense of humor, values, and dreams. You also discovered new sides of him that you never knew before. He was passionate and creative but also humble and kind. He was generous and thoughtful but playful and adventurous.
He became everything you wanted in a partner.
But he was your friend.
He often told you how much he appreciated and trusted your friendship. He had also told you how hard it was for him to trust women after all the pain he had gone through. He had been betrayed and hurt by his ex-girlfriends, who had spread lies and rumors about him. They had tried to use him for fame and money, not caring about his feelings.
You were different from them. You were a journalist, but you never wrote anything wrong about him. You never exploited his secrets or his scandals. You never tried to get a scoop or a headline out of him. You respected his privacy and his dignity. You cared about him as a person, not as a celebrity.
You wanted to be the one who could heal his wounds, make him happy, and love him like no one else.
You wanted to be the one who could make him see that not all women were the same.
You wanted to be the one who could make him fall in love again.
You sure as hell didn't know if he saw you as more than a friend.
You were going to see him today at a hidden bar that only a few knew about. It was a place where he could be himself, away from the public's prying eyes. Noah loved his music and fans, but he was a private person. He needed his privacy, and you respected that.
You knew he would probably bring one of his bandmates with him. They were his support system, and though you sometimes wished he would come alone, you understood. That's why you often invited Allie along. She was your best friend and had a crush on Nicholas. Nicholas was smitten with her, too, and he would chase her around like a lovesick puppy, leaving you and Noah some time to yourselves.
You didn't go all out with your appearance, just a touch of makeup and a casual outfit. It wasn't your style, and you knew Allie would tease you if you showed up too fancy.
She'd been nagging you to confess your feelings to Noah; she even blurted it out to him once when she was drunk, but you brushed it off with a nervous laugh and told her to drop it.
You enter the bar, feeling the cool air hit your face. You head straight to the counter, order your favorite beer, and leave your debit card with the bartender.
You scan the room, looking for your friends. They stand out from the crowd. You see a tall man and a petite blonde girl, with Nicholas trailing behind them like a loyal dog. Your eyes land on Noah holding his cue stick and aiming at the table. He is smiling at something he said to Nicholas, but you can't make out his words over the loud music.
You grab your drink and walk towards them. Allie spots you first and runs towards you, wrapping you in a tight hug.
She slurs some words in your ear. "Finally!" She yells, her breath reeking of alcohol. "These two are no fun. They're too good at pool, and I can't beat them. So now they are playing each other, and I'm just watching." She giggles.
You escape from her hug and follow her to the table, putting down your drink and taking off your sweater. "Well, it's not a fair game when Noah's arms are longer than the fucking table." You joke.
"I heard that!" Noah shouts from across the table, waving his pool stick at you.
You shrug your shoulders, "It's the truth!"
"Who wants to play next?" Nicholas asks as he walks over to you and Allie. "Allie owes me a shot, and I'm done with him." He laughs, pointing at Noah.
"Are you giving up?" Noah asks as he joins the three of you. "I don't blame you. You suck and everything." He teases.
You smile up at him and open your arms to hug him. "I love being ignored." You say sarcastically, making Allie snort.
He hugs you tightly and rocks you back and forth slowly, "Sorry, my precious little angel," He mocks, "I was busy kicking ass."
Nicholas hands you his cue stick and grabs Allie by the arm, dragging her to the bar. "Good luck!" He yells back at you.
"Ok, Noah." You laugh, trying to escape his grip, "You can let go now."
He looks at you with a fake hurt expression, "But I thought we were having a moment."
You roll your eyes, "Yeah, a moment of suffocation."
He grins and releases you, "Fine, fine. Let's play then. Loser buys the next round."
You nod, "Deal. But don't cry when I beat you." He winks, "We'll see about that."
You and Noah start playing pool, taking turns to hit the balls. You're both good at the game but like to distract each other with jokes and taunts. You laugh and tease each other, enjoying the friendly competition.
You notice he's getting closer to you, leaning over your shoulder to show you how to aim better, brushing his hand against your arm when he passes the cue stick, whispering in your ear when he makes a shot. You feel a surge of heat in your body, wondering if he is flirting with you or just being playful.
You decide to play along, hoping he will make a move. You touch his chest when you congratulate him on a good shot, look into his eyes when you talk to him, and bite your lip when you miss a shot.
You see him react to your signals, his eyes darkening, his breath quickening, his smile widening.
Youâre both down to the last ball, the black eight. It's his turn, and he has a clear shot. He looks at you and says, "If I make this, I win. And if I win, I get to ask you something."
You raise your eyebrows, curious and nervous. "I have to buy you a drink, and you get to ask me something?" You ask. "That doesn't seem very fair."
He shakes his head, "It's fair, you'll see." He bends over the table and aims at the ball. He hits it with precision and power, sending it into the corner pocket.
He straightens up and pumps his fist in the air. "Got it!" He exclaims. He turns to you and grabs your hand, pulling you close. "I win!"
You smile and nod, "Yes, you do."
He looks into your eyes and says, "And now I get to ask you something."
You swallow hard, feeling his breath on your face. "What do you want to ask me?"
He leans in and whispers in your ear, "Can I kiss you?"
"Are you drunk?" You ask, taken back by his question, "You don't want to kiss me. That's the alcohol talking. Are you drunk?"
He chuckles, "No, I'm not drunk, and I want to kiss you. Am I reading signals wrong? I thought that's what you wanted..." He nervously speaks, his dark brown eyes closely watching you, waiting for a response. Did he overstep your boundaries?
In a whirlwind of nervous energy, you feel your heart race as you stare at him. What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you wanted?
You softly nod your head, "Ok," You whisper.
You feel everything else fade away, and the only thing that matters at that moment is him. As your lips get closer, the air gets thicker with anticipation, your hearts beating as one. The world pauses, waiting for this moment. With a gentle move, he lowers his head, and a wave of bliss washes over you when you feel his lips press to yours. You feel warmth as his hands caress your face, and he deepens the kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, not letting him go.
You hope this is real, not some cruel dream playing with your mind.
When you finally pull away, your eyes meet again, breathless and smiling like two people who have just found a hidden treasure. You see the love and happiness in his eyes, reflecting your own.
âAbout damn time!â Nicholas shouts from behind you, breaking the spell. You laugh, feeling a bit shy but also proud of what you have done.
You lean in and give Noah another kiss, softer and sweeter than the first one, just to make sure it's real.
You didn't mean to fall in love with Noah. But you did, and it changed everything.
203 notes
¡
View notes