#I have to massage people in dark rooms in 6 hours

[urprettylittlething]

In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please &lt;3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple. 

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe. 

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones. 

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm. 

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours? 

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened. 

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’ 

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount. 

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag. 

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly. 

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable. 

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start. 

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again. 

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure. 

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit. 

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy. 

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store. 

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic. 

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard. 

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her. 

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone. 

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her. 

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps. 

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax. 

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge. 

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there. 

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc. 

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention. 

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside. 

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside. 

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door. 

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.  

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together. 

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them. 

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation. 

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.” 

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching. 

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.  

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.” 

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent. 

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present. 

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly. 

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle. 

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm. 

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them. 

Wherever it was, it was concerning. 

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway. 

1, 2.

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest. 

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door. 

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door. 

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could. 

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down. 

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever. 

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway. 

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious. 

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside. 

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer. 

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair. 

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry. 

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality. 

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps. 

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble. 

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing. 

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling. 

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her. 

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps. 

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds. 

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with. 

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air. 

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’. 

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief. 

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind. 

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her. 

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps. 

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time. 

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them. 

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known. 

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators. 

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns,  or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones. 

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed. 

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her. 

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror. 

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through. 

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him. 

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling. 

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.  

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle. 

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles. 

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need. 

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed. 

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her. 

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well. 

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds. 

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response. 

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it. 

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time. 

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey. 

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

[stellaistryingtowrite]

working late

Friday overtime has burnt out all your strength and energy. How could Akai possibly light it up?

shuichi akai x reader

cw: no cw, reader's is referred as a Miss, no physical description but reader is a FULL-GROWN WOMAN with a FULL TIME JOB. no angst, yes comfort. lots of kisses.

authors note: as much as i hate to admit it, likes and reblogs DO matter. i didn't expect my boyfriend!akai headcanons to receive 26 likes, i thought i'd get 3—maybe 6 at most. no hard feelings, detco isn't very popular. but i got 26 likes and i thought "wow there are other people who are starving for this content just as much as i do" so i decided to quickly write another one as a thanks. i hope you enjoyed this!

You tilted your head to your left and right—hearing a loud crack with each turns. Releasing a heavy sigh, you leaned back against your chair and blearily stared at the bright screen of your computer.

Working as a tech support wasn’t easy. It paid slightly higher than the average wage, but it left you with no work-life balance.

The client you were assigned to were having a major issue with the system and had to be solved immediately, leaving you at work until way past your work hour.

Your eyes darted towards the corner of your laptop screen.

20.26.

Unconsciously, you took another deep sigh and rubbed your eyes hard. Not wanting to irritate your eyes any further, your hands raised up high towards the ceiling as your arched your back and stretched your body with a loud groan.

Once you were satisfied, you threw your body back against the chair.

Fuck, you cursed inwardly. I need a fucking break.

A beat passed as you sat there in the room, alone in the darkness and trying to collect some strength to pack up and went home.

Massage would be nice, you hummed to yourself. And a long nap. Ten hours of sleep, at least.

A loud grumble of your stomach interrupted your train of thoughts. Reminded of your initial plan, you rubbed your face and groaned in annoyance.

Every Friday, after work, Akai and you would go out for dinner. He would pick you up and the two of you would have dinner in a nice restaurant. You were worried your boyfriend would mind the traffic jam and tire himself out, but he assured you with a quick peck of your head.

“You know I’d never mind spending my time in my car with you,” he assured as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

His words and action softened your heart, and it quickly became a tradition with the two of you.

Earlier, you had texted him and apologizing profusely that you’d be staying much longer than you had intended to, before telling him to eat his dinner and don’t wait up for you.

With the issue at hand, you didn’t have a lot of chance to read his text, but you remembered how your screen had lit up earlier with a notification from him.

[akai ❤️ — 17.14]

Don’t worry about me. 👍🏼

You shot up and smacked the laptop shut, not even bothering to put it on Sleep mode or even shut it down like you’d usually do on Friday. After quickly shoving your things inside your bag, you grabbed your phone and left your desk.

While walking towards the elevator, you did a quick scroll of your phone’s notification.

[akai ❤️ — 17.14]

Don’t worry about me. 👍🏼

Just let me know when you’re done.

[akai ❤️ — 19.43]

Are you finished? It’s getting late, I’m worried about your gastritis.

[akai ❤️ — 20.05]

Remember about your health.

Your heart ached at his sweetness, but a frown began to form in your expression.

Did he eat? Had he arrived before you got to cancel your plans with him? What did he eat?

Questions ran through your head as you press the elevator button and wait for it to arrive.

You were about to type in your reply when your phone rang.

His name with a red heart emoji next to it (you thought it’d be funny. Red. Akai. Your boyfriend didn’t laugh, but you could’ve sworn you saw a quirk of his lips.) flashed on your screen. Without hesitating, you quickly press the green button.

“Hey,” you greeted him softly.

“Hi baby,” he returned. You leaned on the wall by the elevator door in pretense of exhaustion, but it was his nickname for you that made you weak at the knees. “Are you still working?”

“No,” you hummed as you stared at the sign above the elevator door. 5 more floors. “I’m waiting for the elevator now.”

From the phone, you heard some shuffling noises. “That’s good,” he answered. “I’ll pick you up.”

2 more floors. You frowned. “Akai, it’s alright. You don’t have to pick me up,” you assured. “I’ll eat something before I get home, so don’t worry about me and make sure to eat your dinner.”

“I’m at the parking lot.”

The doors of the elevator opened right as he uttered those words.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you walked into the elevator. Two other people were inside, but you and them couldn’t care less of each other. None of them had stared at your shocked expression—their blank eyes stared into the distance as they wait to arrive at the ground floor.

You’d be like that too, if it weren’t for your boyfriend’s statement.

“What parking lot?” you interrogated him as the elevator began its descent. “Like, our building parking lot? What were you doing there? Did you even have dinner?”

He didn’t answer and your frown grew even deeper. You put your phone away from your ear to see why he wasn’t answering.

The upper right corner of your phone answered your answer.

No signal.

You sighed resignedly and waited for the elevator to arrive at the ground floor—not even bothering to pocket your phone.

A few seconds later, the elevator stopped its descent and the door parted open.

Brushing past the two strangers, you rushed out and quickly phoned him again.

The phone rang while you tapped your card on the automatic access gate.

It rang again as you walked out towards the open-space lobby, surrounded by glass as walls.

It rang once again when you froze at the sight in front of you.

Shuichi Akai, leaning against his car in front of the lobby.

His gaze was trained on you as he smiled and waved as soon as you spotted him. One hand held the phone against his ear.

Dumfoundedly, you raised your phone to your ear.

Across the glass, he mouthed the words.

“Wanna have dinner?”

But you heard his voice through your phone.

Realization fell upon you that he was there, he was really there. Waiting in front of you on the lobby.

Without waiting any further, you ran outside. The cold evening air greeted you, but it was quickly replaced with his warmth as you crashed yourself towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

The warmth spread across your body as he embraced you in return, one arm across your shoulder and the other gently caressing your hair.

“Long day?” he teasingly asked with a short kiss to the crown of your head. Warmth spread across your cheeks. You didn’t even realize you had leaned on him and slagged your body—his arm was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Long week,” you whined against his chest.

He rubbed his hand on your upper shoulder in an attempt to lift up your spirits. “Come on, you must be hungry.”

His invitation reminded you of your initial worry. Your head shot up from his chest, but you kept your chin tucked against it—not wanting to be away from him for long.

“Did you remember to have dinner?” You gasped.

Akai hummed as he nodded his head.

“How long were you waiting for me?”

You finally leaned back so you could properly interrogate the man in front of you. Instantly, the cold air wrapped itself around your body and you found yourself missing his warmth.

“Not for long,” he assured.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at him in suspicion.

“Were you waiting for me?” you pouted.

Akai didn’t reply—for he knew that you’d be upset with his answer. His lips quirked up to an all-knowing smile in respond.

It was adorable and infuriating how you insisted for him to eat his dinner on time yet abandoning your own meal. Akai knew that you wouldn’t have anything to eat in your office, unlike him that had a pork bun and grilled chicken thigh in nearby FamiMa.

Your frown grew even deeper and Akai held himself back from chuckling and your pouting lips.

He took one step forward from leaning against his car and closed the distance between the two of you. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, he kissed your forehead—but unlike the quick peck earlier, he let it rest as he tried to remove your backpack on your shoulder. He remembered your work laptop and how it weighed down on your shoulders and how you’d tilt your head from the left to the right in an attempt to ease the ache.

Once he has your backpack slung across his shoulder, he lifted his lips from your head to answer your question.

Akai kept his arm wrapped towards your shoulder—mindful that he didn’t rest it there, knowing your shoulder pains—as he gently led you around his car, towards the passenger seat.

“When you texted me,” he began. “I was waiting for you in the lobby. I thought it’d be a waste to go back and come pick you up again. So I parked my car outside and had a quick snack at the Family Mart.”

He pinched your chin in adoration. “And I think Little Miss ‘Skipping-dinner-for-work’ shouldn’t nag me too much about eating my dinner late.”

Akai tapped your nose gently after scolding you.

You pouted and relented because you knew he was right.

The gentleman he was, Shuichi Akai opened the door to his passenger seat and waited for you to sit down. Once he knew you were comfortable, he grabbed your seat belt and leaned across your body to put it on.

You couldn’t resist the small space and quickly kissed his cheek.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” you softly mumbled. It had been a long week and you knew you were ready to drop dead as soon as you got home, but Akai picking you up and waiting for you for more than two hours gave you the comfort you needed.

As soon as you heard the seat belt clicked, Akai grabbed your chin and kissed you on your lips.

You held his face with both of your arms as you returned it—just as passionately, if not more.

It was short-lasting. He quickly pulled away and kissed the tip of your nose—but he couldn’t resist himself to pinch your chin once more before closing the door.

You giggled at his affection. It was nice to know that you were loved, even when you were tired down to your bones.

The door behind you opened and quickly shut—a sign that he was putting your backpack behind you. Your head turned to watch your man (my Akai. mine mine mine.) through the window as he walked around his car and eventually open the driver seat.

Your gaze never moved from him as he sat on his seat and started the car. As soon as the engine rumbled, he straightened up and shifted the gear.

Your smile only grew when he turned his head towards yours with his ghost smile that you liked so much.

It was thin across his lips, and the corner of his eyes barely crinkled. But his gaze were warm and kind and it fills your with all sorts of love that you never realized you could experience from a simple action of picking you up from work.

“Ready to leave?”

-END-

Dictionary FamiMa → Family Mart. Minimarket chain that’s very popular in Japan, very similar to Seven-Eleven. You can buy food and ask for them to be warmed up and they have small sitting areas for you to have your snacks.

[skzhocomments]

In the Dark - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter 7 - When our lips touch

General masterlist

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

---

Chapter 7 - When our lips touch

chapter word count: ~5.1k words

~Minho’s POV~

“Yes, baby, just like that.” I spoke, watching her bounce up and down on my dick, her round breasts moving in unison with the rest of her body, her hair doing little to nothing to cover her nipples from my sight.

She was so fucking beautiful and hot, her face contorted in pure bliss, and she was reaching her high.

“Fuck, Minho, you’re the best.” She leaned down and pressed her lips against my mouth, and I kissed her, starting to move my hips to create more momentum between us. She moaned into my mouth, then quickly moved on to sucking my neck.

“God, you’re so tight for me, baby. Why are you clenching around me so hard, hm?” I praised her, and I was so, so close to cumming.

I continued fucking my way inside of her while she became a moaning mess, and I hugged her body against mine, to keep her as close as possible.

“I love you, I love you.” I spoke, burying my dick inside her just as I cummed hard. “Flame- no, Jieun, you are so-”

~

Jieun?

I opened my eyes, shocked, looking confused around my room and feeling my pants uncomfortably wet and sticky.

A… wet dream?

Fucking hell.

I did the unthinkable again. I imagined Flame – whose body I got to know so well – as Jieun. Again.

And I dreamed about fucking her.

And I fucking ejaculated in my sleep, thinking of Jieun – Nari’s teacher.

How messed up in the head was I?

Why?

Why?

Was it because she ended up spending the night here and we drank and talked so intimately until 5 AM?

Even so, that’s not normal. It’s not appropriate to have these thoughts about her.

Fucking hell.

Looking at the clock, it was 10 AM. Late, by my standards. Nari’s been up for probably 3 hours now, but like the good child she was, she didn’t come to wake me up.

Get your shit together, Minho.

I told myself, then got up and hopped in the shower, trying to wash my sinful thoughts away. I couldn’t keep thinking of fucking Jieun when thinking about Flame. They were separate people, and it wasn’t right.

Yes. I need to stop this, before I do or say something stupid to make Jieun uncomfortable.

~

~Jieun’s POV~

Agh, what the fuck. I groaned, feeling the biggest headache throbbing right in my temples.

Opening my eyes and sitting up on the bed, I massaged the painful spots in my head and tried to stretch a bit, letting out a big yawn.

Memories from last night came flooding in, and I quickly figured out that I was still in Minho’s house and that I drank way too much, which resulted in this freaking migraine.

I didn’t have anything with me – my phone, my keys, my bag; all of these were in the living room, so I had no idea what time it was, but even without a clock, I knew that I far outstayed my welcome.

I should’ve left last night instead of drinking with Nari’s dad. It didn’t feel like such a bad idea to stay the night in the kitchen when Minho looked at me with such sparkly eyes, they made me melt; it didn’t feel like such a bad idea under the dim lights on the couch in the living room with two bottles of wine and a full glass in my hand. It didn’t feel like such a bad idea yesterday.

But today, under the daylight, it was totally inappropriate. There was no reason for me to actually stay and sleep, or drink with Nari’s dad until 5 AM and talk and talk and talk.

Why am I still here?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Getting up from the bed, I headed towards the bathroom connected to the guest room and washed my face.

Next to the sink stood a utility cart where a towel, a new toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as all sorts of skin care products, and even feminine hygiene products were placed strategically.

I haven’t noticed them yesterday when I took a shower in here, but I was grateful for them nonetheless, so I picked the toothbrush and tore its packaging, then I brushed my teeth and got rid of all the alcohol taste still present in my mouth after a night of drinking.

I grabbed my clothes from the rack and changed from Minho’s clothes, then I exited the guest room and started walking towards the living room.

Sounds of cartoons could be heard coming from it, and when I entered the room, Nari was sprawled over the floor drawing something in coloured pencils, while something was playing on the TV.

“Oh, you’re awake?” Minho spoke, and only then did I notice him on the couch, manspreading while reading something on his phone.

“Yes. Good morning.” I smiled and waved at Nari, who looked at me for a few moments.

“Good morning? Miss Park, it’s 2. Are you normally this lazy?” She asked bluntly, as children do.

2 PM?!

My mouth fell open, which didn’t go unnoticed by Minho, who quickly intervened.

“Nari, that’s not nice to say, she was tired after taking care of you the whole day.”

“Wait a minute-” I started speaking “is it really 2 PM? Oh God, why didn’t you wake me up?” I turned to Minho upset, a large frown on my face.

“Why would I? It’s Sunday. Sleep in as much as you’d like.”

“But-”

“Daddy, I’m hungryyyyy.” Nari stood up and jumped on the sofa all of a sudden, pouting.

“Oh, what should we eat?”

“I waaaaaant… pancakes!”

“For lunch?” Minho chuckled. “That’s not-”

“Pancakes! Pancakes! Pancakes! Pancakes!” Nari started jumping up and down, making me laugh. She was so evidently spoiled, but not in an annoying way most children are. She was cute.

Minho rolled his eyes.

“We can’t have pancakes, because daddy can’t cook them.” He shrugged, and Nari stuck out her tongue at him, then came to me and jumped on my legs.

“Miss Park, can you make pancakes? Pleaaaaaseeeeeee.” She started pleading with me, and I just looked at Minho who watched us amused, as if he were watching a cute moment on a TV show.

“I-”

“PLEAAAASEEEE.” Nari started again, and watching her big, round eyes looking at me so hopeful, I gave in.

Those fucking eyes she got from her dad, I swear.

“Fine. Let’s make some pancakes. But as a dessert. You have to eat a real meal for lunch first.” I put my hands on my hips and waited for her approval, which she was quick to give.

She seemed happy with this outcome.

We headed towards the kitchen, and I pulled out a few ingredients we had left over from yesterday, and I cooked some chicken with mashed potatoes for the three of us and tried not to think about me still being here, even if I had no reason to be. Even if I should’ve left last night as soon as Minho got home from work.

We made small talk, and my migraine was almost gone after eating and getting hydrated properly, but the strange feeling in my chest made it hard to breathe. It felt like I was choking and in desperate need of air, that just didn’t get to my lungs. Sitting like this at the kitchen table – the three of us – brought a small sense of normality and I couldn’t help but think that from the outside, we must’ve looked like a happy family.

Inappropriate.

When we were done cleaning up after lunch, I showed Nari how to beat the eggs for the pancakes, then I let her pour in the flour and the milk, letting her mix the batter herself. I wasn’t sure if she would be ready to use the stove as well, but under my supervision, I let her pour the pancake mix in the pan from a ladle, and she seemed very excited.

“Do you like cooking?” I asked her, waiting for the pancake we just poured to harden up enough to turn it over.

“Yes! It’s so fun!” She jumped, and Minho chuckled seeing her. He then looked right in my eyes and smiled so brightly, my heart skipped a beat.

Inappropriate.

I decided that no longer looking at him was the logical solution, otherwise who knows what this stupid heart of mine would make me do next?

~

“Miss Park, can you stay for dinner too?”

“Nari, I’m sure she has a lot to do at home as well. She already played with you a lot today, didn’t she?” Minho petted her hair.

We finished eating the pancakes and cleaning up about one hour earlier, after which Nari wanted us to paint together, and I couldn’t say no.

“But I want us to make food again.” She pouted, small tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

“We will do it again another time, okay?” I smiled and tried to stop Nari from starting to cry.

“Besides, we have to visit grandma and will eat with her anyway, did you forget?” Minho continued, noticing Nari’s dejected face. At the mention of her grandma, however, her eyes lit up.

“Okay…” She nodded.

“You should go get changed, grandma is waiting for us.” Minho instructed her, and Nari nodded, then left.

“So, should we drop you home?” Minho turned his attention to me.

“If you’re going to the hospital… is it alright if I come with you? I could visit my grandmother as well…” I pondered.

“Why not?” Minho smiled. “Listen, Jieun, about yesterday…”

“Hm?”

“Thank you so much for taking care of Nari, and for today as well. She looked like she had a lot of fun with you, and I’m truly grateful.”

“Oh, no worries. You don’t have to thank me for anything. I had fun as well.”

I returned his smile, then we continued talking until Nari came back from her room.

~

“Hey grandma.” I opened the door to her hospital room and stuck my head in, a large grin on my face. “I brought you some pancakes!”

“Oh, Jieun!” She smiled and urged me to come in the room. She was sitting on the bed, watching TV.

“Is this a new drama?” I asked, pointing out to the show while sitting down next to her bed in the visitor’s chair.

“Yes, it’s so captivating! Uhm, Jieun?”

“Yes?” I looked at her after placing the pancakes on her food tray.

“Didn’t you go home yesterday?” She tilted her head confused, looking at my clothes.

Oh, fucking hell, I didn’t think she would notice.

“Uhm… I did.” I lied, and grandma saw right through me. She raised me, after all.

“Silly girl, did you meet someone? When were you going to tell me?”

“It’s nothing like that, it’s just-”

“MISS PARK!!!” The door flew open, and Nari ran inside, jumping right on my lap.

“Oh, my! Who should you be, little princess?” My grandmother smiled brightly, admiring Nari’s long hair and large eyes.

“My name is Choi Nari, I’m 8 and I like painting.”

“Is that so? What a cute girl you are!” Grandma cooed. “Would you like some pancakes?”

“Are these the pancakes we made together, Miss Park?” Nari asked innocently, and Grandma threw me a sharp look I knew I couldn’t ignore for long, moment when Minho entered the room as well.

“Nari, I told you so many times to stop running away- Jieun?” He saw me, then he rubbed his forehead. “I’m so sorry for this, she did it again.”

“But I knew Miss Park was going to be in this room and I forgot to hug her goodbye!” Nari whined.

“There, there, you hugged me.” I chuckled.

“We are truly sorry for intruding on the time with your granddaughter. My name is Choi Minho, and this is my daughter, Nari.” Minho bowed to my grandmother, and she waved her hand around.

“The more the merrier! Look how lively this place became! Now, young man, you’d better explain why my granddaughter didn’t go home last night.” Grandma smiled, but it was one of those smiles that made you cower in fear, which Minho caught on quickly.

“Grandma, I told you it wasn’t like that! Minho had to work and asked me to take care of Nari, who’s one of my students!” I explained quickly, but grandma was still sceptical, and looked slightly disappointed.

“Is that so?” She replied unconvinced, but still dropped it.

Minho excused himself and grabbed Nari from my lap, and I dreaded being alone with grandma, because I just knew she was going to start asking questions.

“Who is he?” She started as soon as Minho left the room. “He’s so handsome! Where did you meet him, at school? When have you began dating?”

“Oh my God!” I whined. “It’s NOT like that!!! For the millionth time! He’s just Nari’s dad, that’s all!”

“Is he single?” Grandma nudged my elbow.

“I see you’re feeling well today. Well enough to annoy your granddaughter.” I spat out, and both of us started laughing.

“His daughter is so cute! I remember when you were that age! You were cuter, though!”

“You only say that because we are related.” I chuckled.

“And because you’re my precious baby.” Grandma smiled fondly. “These pancakes are really good.”

“Thank you! It’s your recipe, but they don’t taste as good as yours. You should hurry up and get better so you can cook for me.” I pouted.

“It’s the universal recipe, dear, and they taste the same. But how come you want to live with this old hag? You should start making plans to live with that handsome lad! What was his name again, Minho?”

“Grandma… what will I do with you?” I sighed and shook my head.

“But even if you end up adopting another woman’s child, I still want some grandbabies from you!” She ignored me completely and kept living her fantasy.

“Oh my, do you have a fever?” I pouted. “You’re only spewing bullsh -OUCH!” I shouted, after grandma hit my hand with her fork.

“Don’t talk like that!” She scolded me, and I chuckled. “Should I wash your mouth with soap?”

“So, you could hear me!” I spat out, and grandma threw me a look.

“Is it that wrong for me to want you to raise a baby?”

“Okay, okay. You want grandbabies? You better focus on getting healthy so you can take care of them!” I laughed, and grandma smiled.

~

On Wednesday, just as I dropped Nari off to her Art School, a notification on my phone caught my eye.

In the Dark – 1 new request

---

CHARISMA – personal form

THINGS I ENJOY: Flame!!! I am so so sorry for Saturday, something unexpected came up and I couldn’t come meet you. Also, I know this is super short notice, and I wouldn’t blame you if you wouldn’t be able to make it in 2 hours from now (though I wish you would!). Unfortunately, we will no longer be able to meet on Saturdays, but I’d like to see you Mon-Fri 6:45-7:45 if you have time and want to as well, of course. Let me know.

THINGS I DON’T WANT TO DO: just the usual

CONDOM / NO CONDOM: no condom

SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: -

---

Reading his form felt like a weight got lifted off my shoulders. He had something urgent to take care of, that’s why he cancelled on Saturday.

But still… he wants us to meet every day?

Wow.

Thinking of it, Charisma’s been spending thousands on me in the past month since we’ve started seeing each other.

How much money does this dude have?

Life must be good for him.

Easier than mine, at least.

---

FLAME – personal form

THINGS I ENJOY: No problem, Charisma. It’s quite ironic actually, something ended up coming up on my side as well so we probably wouldn’t have been able to meet anyway. So funny! I’d love to see you every day, I’m free during that time, so you can book anytime on short notice, and I’ll be there. <3

THINGS I DON’T WANT TO DO: -

CONDOM / NO CONDOM: no condom

SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: I know it’s cold outside, and I can technically wear turtlenecks only, and don’t get me wrong, I love it when you kiss my neck, I’m going crazy for it, but still could you maybe be a bit more… careful when it comes to leaving marks on my neck and chest?

---

After sending the form, I went home and took a long shower, then I used the perfume I usually put on whenever I meet Charisma, making sure to put it on my ankles as well, just in case my legs end up on his shoulders. Of course, a different one from the perfume I use on a day-to-day basis, just to minimize the chances of someone ever recognising it.

Well, the perfume consideration was not exactly aimed towards Charisma, since it was impossible for me to know someone like him in real life. People that afford spending thousands on a prostitute in a single month are not people that usually frequent the social circles I can be part of.

Minho seems to have some money, though. I thought, remembering the place he lives in with Nari, and his profession.

But still, I doubt he has that much money, otherwise why would he have chosen a public school for Nari? Even after the bullying scandal, he would’ve definitely sent her to a better, expensive private school, or even hire teachers to homeschool her.

Whatever, how much money Minho makes is none of my business.

I put on some lacy lingerie and warm clothes on top, thinking that I’d rather dress a bit more appropriately for the weather outside, since the wind was getting colder and colder, while still maintaining a sexy element that would be fun to touch and imagine.

I reached the building and entered the room like I usually do, and I took off all my clothes, keeping on the red lingerie and waiting on the bed until Charisma got here.

It’s only been a week and a half since I last saw him, but it felt like a lifetime ago, and I was growing more impatient by the minute.

For some reason unknown to me, my heart began picking up the pace and I felt… nervous.

Why would I, though? He’s just a man that pays me, and there’s nothing between us…

Speaking of, I haven’t been thinking about Charisma at all while spending time with Minho… of course, leaving aside their similarities which were… a bit uncanny.

Wait.

Did I seriously think that spending time with Minho took my mind off Charisma?

Jieun, don’t be fucking stupid, please.

Minho is just Nari’s dad. I can’t possibly say I enjoyed drinking wine with him at 3AM on a Saturday to the point of forgetting about the other man that makes my heart skip.

Wait – did I just think of Charisma as ‘the other man’?

Something is definitely wrong with me.

He’s just a faceless man that pays me for sex.

I shook my head, wanting to let go of all these useless thoughts, when the click of the door signalled me that Charisma finally got here, so I stood up and headed towards the middle of the room to wait for him, like always.

~

~Minho’s POV~

After a week and a half, I was finally meeting Flame again.

I missed her.

Perhaps it was weird to say so, since I didn’t know who she was, but you can’t control your feelings, can you?

I was surprised to see a response form from her so quickly, and even more so that she accepted to meet me on such short notice.

Reading her form carefully, my heart first skipped a beat at ‘I’d love to see you every day.’

Of course, this could just be her being excited to get a bigger paycheck for the time being, but still, I wanted to believe that this was not necessarily the case, and she was genuinely excited as well.

Then, reading further down, reaching the Special Requirements column, I almost let out a laugh.

--

SPECIAL REQUIREMENTS: I know it’s cold outside, and I can technically wear turtlenecks only, and don’t get me wrong, I love it when you kiss my neck, I’m going crazy for it, but still could you maybe be a bit more… careful when it comes to leaving marks on my neck and chest?

--

Damn, she’s cute. I smiled, and to any outsider, I must’ve looked crazy, grinning to myself like that.

So, she doesn’t mind marks anywhere else, hm?

Her phrasing was funny. What type of person was Flame, anyway?

My mind wandered off to the hickeys on Jieun’s body, and I chuckled to myself again, before thinking that remembering those spots on Nari’s teacher was not appropriate and that I should stop thinking about her already.

Anyways, I accepted Flame’s form as well and went home to shower. Thankfully, Ye-Jun and Jinki offered to take Nari from her art classes and watch her until 20:00 from Mon-Fri until this album is out, and I can go back to my usual working hours.

Right now, I head to work directly after dropping her off at school in the morning, and then I finish at 18:20 – which is 20 minutes too late for me to be the one who picks her up from the art school.

On Monday and Tuesday, I headed to Jinki’s place directly after work to grab Nari home, but both she and Jiho were so whiny they only got to spend 30 minutes together, that Ye-Jun suggested I just come by and take Nari before the girls have to head to bed – at 7:45-8.

This means that I now have almost 2 hours for myself from the minute I leave work until I go to Jinki’s to take Nari back home – so why not book Flame for those times? A good lay is not only a nice workout, but also a stress relief after such busy days.

Why not?

~

Reaching the building and the room assigned for today’s meeting, I entered the hallway as usual, and breathed in a few times before opening the main room’s door.

Darkness surrounded me, just as it did so many times before, and the sweet smell in the air invaded my nostrils, making me almost dizzy. Flame was wearing the same perfume as she usually did, and I couldn’t wait to see – well, actually, to touch – her clothes today to see what she decided to wear.

In the middle of the room, there she was, waiting for me.

She reached her hands to cup my cheeks and ‘kissed’ me, just like last time, her thumbs firmly on my lips to make sure I wouldn’t be uncomfortable.

I was so far from that, though. I wanted to grab her hands away and kiss her and put my tongue down her throat so badly, and these urges were getting stronger and stronger each time I would meet her.

What’s bad is they were this strong when Jieun spent the night, and-

Why am I thinking about her again?

I moved my hands on Flame’s body and, reaching her sides, I let out a “Hmmm” unconsciously, then I slightly chuckled.

She.was.just.in.her.lingerie.

She never waited for me like this before. Did she do it because we only had one hour to spend together?

What colour was it? Her favourite, red? Or maybe something else? Black? I bet it would look good either way.

Feeling her up, the lingerie was made of lace, and I could only imagine how beautifully it hugged her body.

But what need was there for it? I unclasped her bra and felt her tits with my hands, and Flame chuckled lowly as well.

It felt like she was asking me Did you miss me that much? mockingly, and she was right. I fucking missed her and I missed fucking her.

She followed through and helped me out of my clothes, and then we made our way towards the bed. I laid her down and pressed a kiss between her breasts, and then I moved downwards, taking down her lace panties and kissing her pussy slowly.

She moaned sweetly, just as she always does whenever I touch her. Damn, did she like it that much?

After eating her out for a bit, though, she pressed her hand on my head, making me stop, and pushed me away.

Huh?

I was confused, but she was quick to guide me on my back, and she attached her mouth to my crotch instantly, deep throating me at once. She took me by surprise for sure, her mouth working flawlessly on my length while one of her hands massaged my balls, and it was so difficult to not bust right then.

Still, it was like she was reading my mind, for not even one minute later, her legs straddled me, and she let herself fall down my dick, taking me in fully. She firstly moved slow, pressing her body against mine and kissing my neck, as my hands moved to her butt, squeezing it.

After getting used to me, she sat up, her movements on top of me quicker, and she started bouncing up and down my length. I felt her every move, and I wanted to feel her body too, so I let my hands roam on her until I reached her breasts, and then – I got another déjà vu feeling.

This felt just like my dream, only this time I wasn’t able to see anything; I was left imagining how Flame looked on top of me, and my mind was filled with Jieun from my dream bouncing on me, and her perfectly rounded breasts, and how she rolled her head back and the way her face contorted in pleasure, and I could only imagine that Flame looked exactly the same, and I don’t know what overcame me, but I stood up, still inside her, and grabbed her face, and I kissed her, but it wasn’t enough, so I kissed her again, and again, and again, and fuck, was she sweet. Her tongue against mine felt just right, her lips were perfect, and the way her moans got lost in my mouth as I began thrusting into her made me simply lose it all, and I never came so hard.

~

I am insane. I shook my head, my hands on the wheel.

I was parked a few meters away from the bus stop where I met Jieun dressed as Flame so many nights ago.

I needed to know if it was her. I was going crazy.

Of course, she wasn’t wearing anything I could see this time, but if she happened to come to this same bus stop an hour after meeting me…

… then Flame was Jieun.

And that meant I just kissed Jieun during the best sex I’ve ever had my entire life.

It was crazy. I was definitely crazy.

But I needed to know. Badly.

I must’ve had a couple loose screws up there, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted Flame to be Jieun. 

Thinking about it, it was not impossible for them to be the same person. Too many coincidences were piling up, and dreaming about Jieun when she slept over felt like a slap in the face telling me to wake up to reality and stop being blind. That late hour in the same neighbourhood, her clothes that night at the bus stop, her perfume – the same one that Flame used today, all the hickeys she had everywhere and Flame asking me to be more careful around her neck so as to not leave as many marks… it started getting easier to accept that I might’ve been the one to have caused them on Jieun’s body as well, even though it was insane to think I’ve been fucking Nari’s teacher for so many weeks straight without knowing it.

I needed to know if that was the case, so I called Jinki and let him know I was going to be a bit late today, and I waited…

and waited…

and waited… 

And before I knew it, more than 2 hours had passed, and Jieun never came to the bus stop, nor did any other girl at least resembling her.

I let out a sigh.

Why did I feel… slightly disappointed?

---

MEETING REVIEW FORM by Charisma

Rate Flame from 1 to 5 (lowest to highest): ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Were all your special requirements fulfilled? (Leave empty if not applicable): I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, and I’m sorry for confusing you and kissing you. I just… I don’t know what came over me. The only thing I know is that I want to do it again.

What did you enjoy? -

What should be improved? -

Would you like to tip Flame? (Any amount you write will automatically be deducted from your Card after submitting this form. Leave empty if you don’t wish to tip your host): 300$

Thank you for using our service!

---

MEETING REVIEW FORM by Flame

Rate the interaction with the customer from 1 to 5 (lowest to highest): ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Did the customer fulfil your special requirements? -

Tip received – 300$: I was honestly taken by surprise, but it was a pleasant surprise, and damn, does your mouth fit on mine so well. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow either. We have two more days this week, don’t we? Stay healthy.

---

~Jieun’s POV~

What… did just happen?

I opened my eyes in surprise, as Charisma’s lips fell on top of mine in a fevered kiss.

Our first.

We continued having sex and the time to go eventually came; after all, an hour passes by quickly, especially when you’re having a good time.

I left the building sometime later and ordered a Taxi like I usually do, even if it wasn’t that late and I could’ve still caught the bus. However, walking towards the bus stop and waiting in the cold felt unnecessary now that Charisma wanted to meet me daily, which meant I had a lot of money on top of what was needed for my grandmother’s hospital bills, so why not take advantage of it while it lasts and go back home in the comfort of a warm car?

But still, my heart didn’t halt for even a moment, even long after getting home and slipping under the covers in bed. Ever since his lips touched mine, my ribcage became a ground for fireworks, and my chest felt too tight to contain my heart, that was beating so fast, it felt like I ran a marathon.

It was ironic, really. I had sex with Charisma so many times, we slept next to each other even, but still, this…  I couldn't believe it, and I caught myself touching my lips with my fingertips again and again, as if to check if the feeling is still there, if it truly happened. This kiss felt more intimate than everything else we’ve been doing,

It felt real.

He kissed me.

His lips were on mine – multiple times, and I couldn’t forget the way they felt. It felt like my mouth no longer belonged to me, and now that I was alone, something was missing from on top of my lips.

I wanted to get that feeling back so badly, so reading his form and seeing that he felt the same brought so many butterflies to my stomach, I wasn’t even sure if I’ve ever felt this way before.

---

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

[wonderlandmind4]

No insomnia brain. I will not entertain that little spark of a Daredevil drabble/fic idea. No. I have to get up and work in 6 hours. I refuse. REFUSE.

…fuck.

[spikesbimbo]

Picnic Date

Pairing: Shugo Meian x Reader

Tags: Picnic date with a side of head, fluff, babymaking breeding kink, daddy kink, nipple sucking, oral sex, handjob, outdoor/public sex, mating press

Summary: Your titties look a little too good to be kept in that dress.

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: i tried looking up his bio to get a better idea of his personality but there's nothing. I def think hes a gemini sun and/or mars

-And also i do not support zoos and aquariums, i just can't think of where else people would go on a date☠️

18+ Minors DNI

You laid on the blanket, your head in his lap a little buzzed from the champagne you drank earlier, giggling with that soft smile of yours, him stroking your hair out of your face watching the cute little kids run around.

Going out with your fiance was a regular occurance, you’ve pretty much been (fucked) everywhere in the city with him. He loved to express his feelings for you by taking you on spontaneous dates; whether it be the beach in the middle of the night, the club, aquarium, and any new food place that opened up, loving watching you eat.

“Aren't they cute?” He said referring to the toddler pushing his baby brother on the swing. You already knew where this was going, yes you've daydreamed about starting a family together, but having a 6' 5., 200lb man's babies was a nightmare for your body. But that was overshadowed but the sincere look he had on his face watching them play, not to mention you were ovulating right now making your baby fever rise.

“Yeah” you shyly mumble, hoping he doesn't notice the blood rushing to your face, spoiler he does. 

You try to take your mind off of that, feeding him the sliced up watermelon, keeping all the strawberries to yourself. His lips lingering on your sticky fingers. You loved babying him, yes he was a grown, strong ass man, but the second he was in your arms he melted, finding comfort in you.

“Your shoulders are stiff baby” you said, noticing it after leaning on them for hours “You want a massage?” you asked, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, already knowing the answer taking matters into your own hands.

“Yeah doll, whatever you want.” he said, giving you the go. You work your hands over his shoulders down his back, your boobs pushing against him, making him grow in his pants. You were just trying to have a cute date, but the way your body looked in that sundress was killing him. The thin straps leading down to the v-neck exposing your cleavage. The loose cotton material hugging your hips perfectly, stopping below your knees. Fuck you were pretty.

The tree behind you covered you two just enough, the park was empty enough now as it was now dinner time and all the families went home. 

He thinks for a second, it not being the first time you two have fucked in public, the last time being in the locker room. All worries leave him as he grabs your neck pulling you in for a kiss, falling in his lap. His lips were warm and soft, parting slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside tasting the sweetness of the fruit.

He kisses down your neck, stopping at your collarbone and pulls your top to the side freeing your breast. “Meian”  You moaned, the feeling of being exposed making you twitch.

His mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking greedily, gripping his hair pushing him into you more. Your tits feeling sensitive and sore, him latching his mouth onto you. He was so grateful for you being in his life, letting him use you as he needed. Him showing his love by giving you your every want and need.

You looked around making sure no one was here, the embarrassment of Hinata walking in on you two while he was balls deep in you in the locker room making cringe at the thought, but who were you to deny your fiance as sweet as he was? 

You reach down palming his crotch until he was hard. Your fingers sliding slowly down not wanting to leave, unzipping his pants bringing his boxers down, precum staining the fabric pulling it down enough to uncover his cock. 

You wanted to be his good girl, he was always so good to you. He’d never tell you no, whether it was wanting him to get you something or wanting to ride him in the middle of the night, he never told you no.

“nghh daddy” you whined, him finally giving you a break from abusing your tits. He tightly wrapped his other hand around your waist leaving an imprint, dragging you closer to him.

“You're so good to me angel.” He whispered, making you shudder. His low voice stirring something inside of you.

“Really daddy?” You asked, hoping to get confirmation that you were doing a good job, grabbing his balls underneath you.

“Fuck baby” he said, thrusting his hips, you squeezing his balls a little harder. He looked at you with heavy eyes, pleading for you to touch his throbbing cock.

You took him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his shaft the best you could, stroking him slowly looking up to meet his eyes to see if you were doing a good job.

He looks at you grabbing your thigh to stabilize himself and reattaching himself to you tits, you made him feel like he was in heaven, what's better than getting played with by a pretty girl with her tits in his mouth.

“Fuck princess im close. You gonna let me cum in that little mouth of yours?” you don't respond, just moving your head down to be face to face with his cock stroking your hand faster, opening your mouth for whenever he was ready.

“Fuck y/n” he groaned, his voice crackling at his release. His cock still so sensitive in your hands. His cum dripping down your lips, you not being able to swallow it all.

“Clean it up” He said, referring to the mess in his lap. You quickly moved your mouth to his length kissing the tip, some cum still on it as you worked your way down. His hand grips your hair as you wrap your lips around him.

 A throaty groan escapes and he rolls eyes back. He thrusts into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat making you gag and your eyes water, but you don't get off, still keeping him in your mouth.

You move your head up and down moaning at the feeling, wanting to reach down and relieve yourself but knowing he wouldn't allow it. Your eyes water this time not because you're choking but because you're needy, wanting to be touched also. 

Your eyes flicker up and see him staring at you with his eyes drowning you in lust. His dark locks stuck to his forehead. His cheeks red with want as his breath quickens.

“Baby, fuck. I'm close”

You bob your head faster, hoping to push him over the edge sooner, your jaw hurting with each motion. His hand is wrapped in your hair again and you can feel his voice get strained and deeper letting you know he was about to cum again.

He doesnt pull out when he spills, his cock sitting in the back of your throat. You swallow his cum for the second time today. Him finally taking it out, looking at your disheveled appearance, wondering how you were so beautiful while looking like a mess.

“Cmere baby” he said dragging you in for a kiss, lifting your dress up enough to feel your drenched panties, not giving a fuck if anyone saw with the sun still out.

You loved his cock so much, borderline worshipping it. It filled you in all the right places, stretching your little cunny out while hitting your g spot, him being the only one that could ever make you feel this way.

“Daddy” you moaned. “ I need it daddy. Please” You whined out as he laid you on your back, hand behind your head making sure you didn't hurt yourself. 

He parted your legs sliding your panties off, your body beneath him, your soft tits slipping out of your dress, your soaked pussy on display for him. Fuck he was in love. 

“Hold on angel” he said, adjusting himself with your entrance, staying in this position so he could see your pretty face.

 “You're such a good girl.” he said, slowly sliding his cock in against your whimpers. “Pretty girl, taking a cock too big for you” he continued, you grabbing his arms, leaving indents from your nails.

 “Look at you, i haven't even bottomed out yet and you've already made a mess” he teased, putting your legs on his shoulders, stroking your cheek.

 “Uhhngh please” you cried trying to hold on as he finally settled into you and started thrusting 

 “Meian please” you said not knowing what you were begging for. 

 “Hmm” he froze, stopping his movement.

 “s-sorry daddy” you realized correcting yourself.  “sorry please... please”

 “Guess I’ll just have to pull out then” he said slowly taking his cock out looking at your teary eyes all distraught

 “No! Dont pull out. Daddy pleaseee, no, please please... nghhah” you cried out like the world was gonna end if he didnt fuck you.

“Hmm? You want me to cum in you? You want my babies?” he teased, getting off on the fact that he knew you got turned by the thought of having his kids. The embarrassment appearing on your face, highly aware of your needs, you turned your face away looking at the grass beside you.

 “Hmm? u gonna be my good girl?” He said cupping your jaw to look at him.

 “Yes daddy” you said reaching your arms out trying to grab him in for a kiss.

 “Nope only good girls get to kiss daddy”

“Nooo daddy please!” You cried again, needing his touch.

 “U gonna let me stuff you full?”

 “Yea-ah” you said pulling your legs back exposing your sloppy cunt, needing him to be in you again.

 “There’s my good girl” he praised leaning down into you, thrusting in you getting harder each time. 

 “D-daddy m’gonna make a mess” You cried coming closer to your orgasm. You feeling him batter your cervix and g spot at the same time making your tummy burn and seeing white.

 “You are sweet girl? Go ahead. Do it.” He cooed, encouraging you to let go. You listened and quickly came, clenching around him making him follow soon after.

 He brought you up against him, his still being in you whispering sweet praise while stroking your head. You feel so content in his arms, enough to fall asleep, but unfortunately you two had to walk home as the sun was setting.

 “Love you meian” You said, snuggling in him yawning

“Love you too angel” he replied, kissing your forehead as you two watched the sun set in the distance, trying you best to stay awake. The both of you never being as happy as you were together.

<3

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

[mtfstuff]

Becoming Officer Bradley part 1

I was sitting alone in the room I'd rented for my special project. Some days ago I got pulled over and should have gotten a speeding ticket. Of course I did this intentionally. I looked out for the cop who was on oatrol that day and drove with 18mph over limit past him. He pulled me over and wanted to give me a speeding ticket. I excused myself that my child was sick and that I had to drive home fast. I gave him a card that he could get some free massages if he would let me go with a warning. Of course He didnt know that this was all a bait. He agreed.

Now waiting in this room I hoped that this hunk would enter. And he finally came.

It already got dark outside but I saw how his police car drove onto the driveway. As he entered with big steps I remembered why I chose him. Standing about 6"4, he was intimidating with his muscular physique, big biceps, broad shoulders, big hands, muscular calves,...

He had this cheeky but nice grin no one could resist. As he entered he looked around.

"Looks like you have nothing to do.", he said. His deep baritone voice made me shiver.

"My last customer left an hour ago.", I lied.

He pulled the card out of one of his vest pockets.

"I want to redeem this.", he said.

He holds it into the air. I acted as if I didnt recognise it from the start.

"Oh yeah, of course.", I answered. I gestured towards a massage bench. "Which ones do you want?" I handed him a card with multiple kind of massages. He sat down on the bench and reads the card. He chuckled at one point, looked at me and then read further. I bet he read my feet massage.

He handed the card back and looked at me, again with his cheeky smile.

"You know, after such a long day of work, my feet are really tired. And after that I'll take a back massage.", he said quiet cocky.

"Good choices. Do you want anything else? Maybe something to drink?", I said.

He laid down onto the bench, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I'll take a glass of water."

I went into a back room and mixed a sleeping pill into a glass of water and brought it to him. It would make the future process easier. He took and glass and a big sip out of it.

"Do you want me to straighten up the bench?", I asked. I hoped for a yes so he would see how I'd work on his feet until he was completely servant.

"Yeah, that'd be great.", he answered.

I pulled up the head part of the bench and sat down at his feet. They looked incredibly massive in those black combat boots. I could no other than letting out a gasp because of it. He chuckled.

"I know I have big feet.", he said. From this position he looked really nice. What a shame.

I took his left foot in my hand and searched for a zipper but it didnt have one so I untied his laces. It took some time as it was tied really tightly. As I finally managed to pull his first combat boot off by having one hand at the heel and one at the tip, his formerly tucked in pants fell onto his ankle. I wanted so bad to raise his boot to my noise but it had to wait as he was watching. I put it to the ground and as I turned to his ither boot I could finally smell his sweaty feet. It was a real turn on and I was happy that he couldnt see how my dick raised against my pants. I untied his second boot. This time I had to wiggle it a bit more to get it off. He finished his glass water and relaxed.

"Do you want me to keep your socks on?", I asked. I just wanted to see his bare feet.

"Ehh... keep 'em on.", he said. His face looked kind of confused.

"Alright. I always ask customers what they prefer.", I said. He nodded and leaned back again. I started to massage his left foot. I made sure to hit the spots to make him completely servant. He started to moan silently and closed his eyes. It looked like he enjoyed it. I finished his left foot and took on his right one. He must've liked it so much that he started to touch his dick beneath his good looking pants. Good, he's loaded there too. It showed that my technique started to work. As I finished I took both of his combat boots in my hands. Without opening his eyes he said:"If you're finished, you can put my boots back on."

"Well, there is this thing I always wanted to do.", I said.

He leaned forwards and opened his eyes. He looked incredibly tired. Another proof that it's working.

"What exactly do you want?", he asked not so nice anymore.

"It feels so wrong to bribe a cop.", I said holding a $50 bill. I made a pause. "I'd love to smell your boots and socks."

"Oh, you're one of those. I've heard of you guys. People who live to smell people's dirty feet.", he gestures to hand him the bill. I do so. "Go ahead. Knock yourself put.", he said, putting the bill away.

I raised his boot to my nose and took a deep breath. His smell overwhelmed me. Such a manly smell. I could imagine just by this smell what he did the whole day with his imposing, good looking body in this sexy uniform. I licked the inside of his boot and he didnt notice it. Next, I rolled up one of leg of his pants till I reached his knee. He wiggled his toes on the yellow tip of his sock. I ran my fingers down his leg until I reached the start of his black otc socks. I pulled it over his muscular calve to his feet and then off of it. I took a deep breath as he said:"Now put 'em back on."

"Well...", I pulled out another bill.

"Yeah?", he didnt seem to be turned off by me.

"Can I lick your sole?"

"Hmm... I'll do it for twice of that.", he pointed to the bill. I took out another and handed them over.

I let my tongue slide over his bare foot, from heel to his toes. I started to suck on each toe as his body started to twitch slightly. That was it. It was done.

I stood up, the young cop's eyes followed.

"Who are you?", I asked with my firmest voice.

"Police off... I-I'm your boy. Aiden Bradley.", the cop stammered.

"Good boy."

I pulled off my shoes and put his combat boots on. They were way too big for me but it still felt great and got my blood pumping through my dick. I tucked my cargo pants in and tied the laces. I walked around the bench so I could stand behind him. I took his police badge and waved it in front of his face. "Looks like you wont need them anymore."

I started to take off his heavy vest by opening the velcro and the zipper beneath it. I pulled both of his muscular arms out of the vest and put it next to me on the ground.

I opened his heavy equipment belt and put it to the ground. I unzipped his pants to pull his shirt out of it. I started to unbutton it slowly, feeling his chest muscles beneath the tight fitting shirt. I pushed him forwards to pull it off of him. I grabbed him by his breast muscles and pulled himself back towards me. I walked around the bench again.

I started to peel off his other sock. Next I grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him towards me, his calves now hanging in the air. I grabbed his uniform pants und pulled them off of him. I pushed the crotch area against my face and took a deep breath. The sweet smell of cum and sweat filled my nose. I dropped them to admire that beefcake in front of me. Aiden Was just sitting there wearing nothing but a small jockstrap, smiling at me.

"Who's the boss now?", I asked with a devilish grin.

"You are.", he answered.

"Stand up boy."

He got off of the bench and stood in front of me. He was towering over me by at least 8 inches. Even though I was wearing his boots and he didnt. I ran my fingers over his sweaty abs until I reached his jockstrap. With a quick pull it was laying on his feet. He stepped out of it.

"Now be close to me and strip me off my clothes.", I ordered and he followed.

He turned me around and pressed his hips and dick against my back. I felt how it pulsated and pre-cum dripped against my shirt. He carefully unbuttoned it with his massive hands. Standing there I could smell his manly sweat.I turned my head to smell his armpits. He pulled my shirt off and opened my belt pants. He turned me around again. His dick now touched my flat and pale belly and mine grazes his inner thigh. Only now being so close to him, I realised how tan he was. It definitely complemented his abs.

He bowed down to lift at first my left and then my right feet to untie and pull off his old boots and my socks. After that he pulled off my pants. He looked surprised that I didnt wear something beneath as my dick popped out of it right in front of his head.

While I bet that his beautiful lips would give an amazing blowjob I pulled him up on his feet and pushed him onto the bench again.

"Spread your legs boy!", I ordered. He lifted his massive legs to reveal his hole. I couldnt believe I was losing my viriginity to this beefcake.

[otptings]

Reunited

✖︎Idol: Park Jisung

✖︎Genre: Fluffffy

✖︎Word Count: 1237

✖︎Synopsis: Tours are hard, but being reunited is all you could ask for

✖︎A/n: edited, the original goes by the name of tour. requests are open for enhypen, treasure, and svt. if you enjoyed this please like, reblog, or donate to my ko-fi in my bio thank you so much

“I miss you.” You held back your laughter at the sight of Jisung puffing out his cheeks in an obvious pout.

“Only two more weeks, then you’ll be back in my arms.”

“That’s boring, why can’t I just teleport there now? Or better yet you teleport here?” Shaking your head at his childishness you couldn’t help but feel the same. There have been more than enough lonely nights to last you for the rest of your days. Nights that were spent looking at all of the various photos and videos that Jisung - tried to-  regularly send you, along with scouring the Dreamies Youtube channel for any videos he forgot to tell you about.

You were more than grateful he was able to experience the tour, especially now that his knee was fully healed, but a miniscule part of you wanted him to be here, wrapped around you like a koala, your favorite habit of his. You’d give anything to be suffocating because of the immense warmth he constantly radiated, your head laying on his chest to listen to his heart beat. The moment when you’d look up at him only to see him already staring back, a sweet smile on his face as he leant down to place a kiss on your temple. Moments you wished you hadn’t taken for granted.

“I miss you more than you know, but I’ve seen all of your performances. You make me so proud everytime I watch them.” A dark blush spread of Jisung’s cheeks. He was weak to compliments. A mumbled ‘he’s on the phone’ was heard before the dressing room dorm burst open, the rest of the Dreamies making an appearance. The boys rushed to the camera, the sound of their screams and greetings making you giggle.

“Don’t think I forgot about you guys, I miss you too.” A mix of Korean and English could be heard, but due to their overexcitement actually understanding was out of the question. Jisung muttered a quick ‘bye’ before the phone beeped, signaling that he hung up. You laughed at his panicked expression before realizing he didn’t end the call with an I love you. Or the next time you’d talk.

Touring makes it hard to schedule things, having an estimated time when you two could talk did help. Giving you something to look forward to between his performances and your school schedule. You had started to get deep into your thoughts when your phone dinged.

Jisungie🐹

I love you ❤️i’ll try and call you tomorrow before practice

A smile spread across your face at his text. Jisung wasn’t forgetful, you don’t even know why you were so worried. Laying back against your pillows you grabbed your stuffed bear, a present Jisung had given you on your 6 month anniversary, hugging it close to your chest, attempting to ignore the empty sensation in your chest that had been steadily growing since he boarded the plane.

Three weeks can’t pass quickly enough.

Stuffing your hands in your pocket you huffed impatiently. You were waiting, just standing there waiting for the aircraft to deplane and the door to open revealing the purple hair boy, for the aching in your chest to finally be alleviated when he held you in his arms for the first time in months.

You felt your breath hitch when the gate doors opened without warning. 6 months, 26 weeks, and 4380 hours without Jisung, he’s finally back. People slowly started to trickle out, and your impatience only grew when none of them were your boys. After what felt like hours - approximately 5 minutes - Mark’s bright blue hair came into view. A mixture of relief and elation rushed through you at the sight of Jisung, his eyes moving rapidly before meeting yours, the same emotions flooding through them.

What you did was stupid, giving the company free ammunition to be mad at you. In your defense NCTzens already knew about your relationship, after 1 year together the company released a statement before Dispatch had the pleasure of creating a scandal. So what if you gave them a few couple pictures to leak.

Jisung met you halfway, his neck pillow laying discarded on the ground, arms wrapping around your waist tightly, as if he was scared you’d leave. That wasn’t a problem, your arms draped over his shoulders, holding him just if not more close. In your brain you could make out the Dreamies cooing over you too, but your attention was mainly on the feeling of your chest finally being full for the first time in 6 months, your other half was back.

You hadn’t realized just how much you missed the feeling of his arms around you, feeling protected in the way he seemed to fully wrap around you. You pulled away only long enough to look up at Jisung, frowning at his watery eyes.

“You’re crying.” Jisung’s hand came to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear you hadn’t realized you were shedding. Giggling, you buried your face back into Jisung’s chest. You refused to let go.

“Are they really crying? Oh my god we’re gonna be here all day.” You couldn’t see the aftermath of Haechan’s dramatic yelling, but you did hear the soft thud of someone smacking his arm - later you found out it was Renjun due to Haechan's whining about how unfair it was.

“It’s young love, they missed each other let them be.” Jaemin began to scold them, protecting his two babies as he always does.

Come on guys, let’s head to baggage claim. Sooner we get there, sooner we can go home.” Jeno’s voice broke through and you finally pulled away, not before he wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you tightly pressed to his side as you walked.

In a total of 37 minutes all 7 of the boys got their bags - including Haechan’s extra bag for souvenirs - loaded them into the van with the help of their manager, and returned back to the dorms, where you were currently curled into Jisung’s side as the other boys were spread out around the dorm, minus Chenle, Mark, and Haechan who were at their respective residences.

Jisung’s head laid on your chest while your fingers ran through his hair, massaging his scalp and listening to the soft sighs that left his mouth, his own hand playing with the bottom of your shirt, fingers threatening to touch the smooth skin underneath.

“I really missed you” Tilting his head up Jisung looked at, relief still evident in his eyes, “It’s hard being so far away from you, I can’t sleep in those different hotel rooms. Of course I have my members, but it’s not the same as having you beside me.”

“You’re back now, and you can’t act as if the tour was all bad. How was it anyway?”

Jisung recounted the tour days for you, making sure to spare no detail of how they convinced Renjun to reenact his voice crack on the stage during the encore, or when they woke Mark on his birthday by pouring water on him and how Haechan was the one to take all of the blame, or when they all decided to gave themselves temporary tattoos with a sharpie and how the makeup artists lectured them for hours while trying to get rid of the black ink - except for Mark who use blue because it was his favorite color.

Tours are rough on both of you, but being reunited is all you could ever ask for.

[honeymoonjin]

pairing: jimin x yoongi || genre: smut - nsfw 18+ word count: 6.7k warnings: dom!jimin, sub!yoongi, exhibitionism, BDSM, sub!jk feature very briefly, masochism, pain play, impact play, spanking, orgasm control/denial, untouched orgasm, frotting (i hope that’s right, i had to google it), crying during sex but in a fun liberating way u feel me, praise, mean-mugging, pet names

summary: jimin is used to keeping his professional bdsm life and his domestic married life separate, but when his husband yoongi comes in after a hard day at work, he wants to blur those lines. 

A/N: i wrote this for the lovely and talented @joonsbean​ so thank her for inspiring me to actually write something, also this is unedited bc i just sat down for 6 hours to write this and i am not willing to stare at it a moment longer

---

After a particularly resonant flick of the whip, Jimin eyes the way Jungkook's calves tense, left foot tapping the floor in an uneven stutter. He's starting to really feel it now.

He absentmindedly reaches his hand out to smooth the reddened flesh of Jungkook's ass, gently cooing at him quiet enough that his rapt audience won't hear. While the eager submissive was the biggest masochist of the regulars, and he was likely miles away from safewording, as a friend Jimin knew the long-haired boy had three hours of lectures the next day. He'd probably relish the sore ass and take it like a champ, but Jimin was soft on him, so he knew it was time to wrap it up.

Tilting his chin towards the dark, almost purplish streak just above Jungkook's thigh, he raises his voice to address the onlookers. "As you can see, when there's only one fall, like with a whip or a switch, the impact feels a lot sharper and concentrated. The thinner it is, that effect is only amplified. For that reason, I really recommend against switches and whips as a first-timer or if you're testing it out." Jimin can't help but beam at the way every person in the crowd listens to his spiel with clear enthusiasm. He got off on this kind of spotlight in a different way to the usual exhibitionism. Sharing his passion never failed to cheer him up. "Even though floggers can look more intense, as we saw when we were starting out, the impact is more distributed, more of a thud than a sting. Now," he breaks off, giving Jungkook's tender ass a final playful swat, making the boy jump, knuckles white as they clench the back of the chair he's bent over, "let's give our little prince a big round of applause for being so helpful for us today."

Jungkook positively keens at the cheers and wolf whistles that erupt from the crowd of at least thirty, his back arching and face buried between his meaty upper arms to hide the blush. Jimin gently massages the heated skin one last time, whispering instructions to head off to the side where his usual dom, Namjoon, was no doubt waiting.

The two had been playing for almost a year now, but Namjoon was still hesitant to venture into the heavier sadism that Jungkook sometimes needed, and the three of them had found a happy medium where Jungkook helped Jimin out with demonstrations, and Jimin indulged Jungkook's occasional desire for more intense pain play. As a thank you, Namjoon even helped Jimin out with his taxes just the month before, and Jimin quite often allowed them to reserve their favourite play rooms out of courtesy. A mutually beneficial arrangement, and it certainly came in handy to have Namjoon deal with aftercare while Jimin still had his demonstration to wind up.

Swinging the chair that Jungkook was previously bent over, Jimin takes a seat facing the audience and quirks a brow. "Alrighty, before we wrap up and I set you back into the wild, any questions?"

This line always had very different responses. Once, on a basic self-bondage informational session, there were so many single kinksters interested that there ended up being almost an hour of questioning, followed by an impromptu tutorial of safe handcuff use. More commonly, Jimin fielded a few confirming questions about what he'd shown, or something related but not overly relevant to the main topic at hand. More often than not, though, he'd find a string of people awkwardly hovering around him after the crowd had dissipated, too nervous to ask their question in front of the others.

This time, however, a single hand is thrust into the air, coming from the rough back third of the gathering.

"Yes?" Jimin calls out, squinting past the few stage lights and into the darkened crowd. He can't quite make out the face, but as soon as the rumbly voice begins to speak, he doesn't need the visual to recognise it.

"I was just wondering," his husband calls out, "could I speak to you in private?"

Jimin is so startled to hear Yoongi that for a moment he freezes on stage, totally silent. Never once had his husband of four years step a single foot into the dungeon Jimin worked at. Not intolerant of the kink world, Yoongi was simply paranoid about being recognised - a renowned human rights lawyer showing up to a BDSM dungeon dressed in leathers was a tabloid field day waiting to happen - and was happy for Jimin to continue working there whenever he wished.

Now, though, that unspoken rule that had kept these two worlds of Jimin's separate had shattered with a single question, and he felt cold shock drip down his spine.

"Uh," he begins eloquently, blinking himself out of it and plastering a collected smile on again, "of course! I'll be right with you once the show ends."

Jimin closes the session in a daze, answering a few questions about physical aftercare and the best materials and brands for impact play equipment on autopilot. It feels like an eternity passing in a single second, and before he's even processed it, the audience have moved on, and his husband is placing a gentle kiss of greeting on his temple, the same way he would when he'd get home from work in the evenings.

Mere minutes after he'd been in his usual dominant persona, Jimin feels himself melting like candy floss in Yoongi's arms, wrapping around him in their usual casual intimacy. "How are you here?" Jimin asks softly, snaking his arms under Yoongi's slate grey suit jacket, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, even through the expensive cotton shirt. "You're still dressed for work, baby."

Yoongi tenses slightly, gazing around the room. A few people are still milling around in small groups, chatting, but this close to the stage, him and Jimin are out of earshot. Still, he speaks lowly, dipping into the Daegu drawl that only makes an appearance when he's too stressed to think clearly. "I took a sick day. Or, I suppose, sick afternoon," he corrects, brows pinched together. "Had to get out. Can we- Is there a place we can have some privacy, please?"

Wide-eyed, Jimin jumps up out of Yoongi's embrace. "Oh, definitely, sorry!" He tamps down his rising concern by hooking his arm around Yoongi's, locking their fingers tightly as he leads his husband out of the auditorium and down a hall.

Being a matinee opening, the dungeon isn't too packed. Jimin prefers working the day shifts, likes that everything feels a little more personal and open. Nights, especially themed ones, get so busy that the gear and rooms have to be booked sometimes weeks in advance. Jimin does his fair share of DMing (they need all the help they can get) but doesn't like to run any scenes himself in the relative chaos.

But at 2pm on a Tuesday, it's easy enough to slip into one of the private rooms, switching the sign to occupied. There's no lock on the door for safety purposes, but nobody will dare enter while it's taken.

Yoongi steps in, eying the room with surprise. It's a relatively open space, with the walls lined with bookcases on one end, and a large wooden desk with some filing cabinets on the other. The desk itself has a comfortable-looking desk chair, and the opposite side has a single leather armchair like something from a therapist's office.

Although there is a wide window, it's covered with blinds, and Jimin knows from experience that it opens directly onto a brick wall for privacy. Instead, the room is lit from above with ceiling lights that are adjustable by a dimmer. Jimin leaves it bright.

Yoongi slowly makes his way to the black leather armchair, sitting down on it and leaning forward to inspect the desk. Absurdly large, it is mostly uncovered except for a diary with some unreadable scrawls on it, an ancient laptop that doesn't turn on, and a ruler. "Is this your office?" Yoongi asks incredulously.

Jimin cackles before he can help himself, moving forward to perch on the edge of the desk in front of Yoongi. "Does it look like I'd get anything done here? It's a play room, baby."

"Play room?" his husband replies dully, but Jimin doesn't miss the way his eyes are zoned in on Jimin's body, the intimidating leather jacket fixed with a tightly buckled belt around his waist, the skintight black jeans that barely contained his thighs, and perfectly glossed black dress shoes, his calling card amongst the typical stomping boots or knife-thin stilettos that most other doms wore. He always got dressed at the dungeon, leaving the house in unassuming sweatpants and a hoodie, so he gets no little satisfaction in relishing his husband's first reaction to the getup.

"That's right," he confirms with a smirk, crossing his legs. "We have five of them at the moment, though the sixth one is almost ready for use. This one is for your typical CEO or professor roleplays, we have a medical one, an interrogation one," Jimin rattles them off on his fingers, watching the way Yoongi's eyes bug out at each addition, "just a basic bedroom one for the vanilla stuff, one that actually looks like a dungeon, and the new one is gonna be an outdoor one."

"Outdoor?" Yoongi asks with a unsteady voice, before shaking his head to clear the thoughts. "Anyway, here is fine, I just- I had to get away from work, Minnie, and I... I was thinking..."

Jimin frowns in sympathy, leaning forward to stroke the back of Yoongi's hand. "I can leave early, I don't have anything else booked today, I was mostly planning on sticking to the social lounge-"

"I don't wanna go home," Yoongi slips in hurriedly, flipping his hand on the arm of the chair to link their fingers together tightly, though his eyes don't leave Jimin's for a second. "I know that you like to keep this job and our own love life separate, and I'm not going to force you, but- I came here because I want to submit to you."

Jimin's eyes widen, his breath catching in his chest. A switch at heart, Jimin had always found it a nice balance to indulge his dominant side here at work, and return home for Yoongi to take care of him, and it had always worked well. Even before they were serious, right in the early days of fucking like rabbits and pretending they weren't entirely smitten, Yoongi had always easily taken that more dominant role, though most of their sex to this day was far less kinky than the kind of demonstrations Jimin ran here. What Yoongi was asking wasn't just to be pampered and taken care of, but to be taken control of. And Jimin couldn't deny the ball of heat that was quickly building inside of him at that thought.

"Baby," he sighs, forcing himself to keep professionalism in mind, "I can't- We can't do anything here without you filling out some paperwork. The list of kinks and limits at the least. Not just as an employee, but as your husband, I gotta keep you safe."

"I know," Yoongi insists, and he frees his hand from Jimin's grip just long enough to plunge a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out a tightly folded piece of paper, handing it to Jimin.

Oddly enough, the folds are worn, not crisp, and as Jimin unfolds it, the text - printed in 12 point Times New Roman, because of course Yoongi would type it up with perfect formatting - has lost the freshly-printed gloss.

"I've been working up the courage to come here for months, Jimin-ah," Yoongi explains in a shy but determined voice. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to feel pressured at all either way, but please know that this is something that I've researched, and that I'm serious about." His solemn expression turns slightly cheeky, almost impish. "You literally make a living domming people, Minnie. I've been fantasising about it long before I even realised I wanted it."

A thrill of arousal runs through Jimin, straight between his legs, and he tightens his thighs, taking a settling breath. "Oh, baby," he coos, eyes dropping to read Yoongi's well-documented and organised list of kinks and limits, scanning over some surprising - and not-so-surprising - tidbits, "I'm gonna take such good care of you."

The air rushes out of Yoongi's lungs as he unconsciously scoots forward in the chair, leaning in. "Do we- Do we just start now, or do you need to go get some-" he breaks off, blushing violently, "some equipment?"

Jimin breaks into a broad smile, eyes crinkling as he steps forward, steps close, ringed fingers slipping into Yoongi's hair on either side, tipping his husband's face up as his chin rests on Jimin's lower abdomen. "Oh, my big boy wants to play with some toys, huh?" Jimin can feel when Yoongi swallows hard, his eyes not glossy with subspace, instead keen and sharp with pointed desire. "Don't worry, baby, this room isn't as empty as you think."

When he steps away, dropping all contact, Yoongi slumps like a puppet with cut strings, catching himself before he slips off the chair, instead lying back against it, chest heaving beneath the starch white of his dress shirt.

Jimin makes his way first to the bookshelves, looking back over his shoulder to catch Yoongi's reaction as he finds a notch in the framing and pulls, revealing that they aren't real shelves at all, simply disguised cabinets that swing open to reveal the hidden delights inside. The three closest to the desk are filled with clothes of all sizes, office-wear spanning pencil skirts to neckties to blazers, a few frumpy pieces that remind Jimin of dorky professors, even some school uniforms, cut far shorter than regulation.

With a grin, Jimin pulls at a pleated plaid skirt, smirking at Yoongi. "In the mood for dress-up, baby? Show off those pretty legs of yours."

Yoongi, still with some wits about him, narrows his eyes with a mock scowl, his disapproval clear.

Jimin sighs out wistfully, but lets it go. "Another time, maybe." Ignoring Yoongi's light scoff, he nudges the doors shut with his foot one at a time and moves to the last one, where the facade of stacked books hides a series of hooks nailed into the back wall.

Jimin doesn't need to even face Yoongi to know he's squirming in his chair - the squeaking leather gives it away. Strung up are floggers, whips, switches, and neatly coiled bundles of rope, catalogued by length. His husband had expressed interest in both impact play and bondage, several different types of both, and so it's no surprise that the sight of those fantasies had Yoongi breathing heavily. He leaves that cupboard open.

"There are so many things we could play with in here, baby," Jimin assures, patting the folded piece of paper that he'd slipped into his own pocket, "and your list was pretty extensive, so before we get started, any particular preference?"

Yoongi swallows again, hair slightly rucked up from Jimin's hands. Jimin can't wait to see it totally mussed up, see his husband in ruins, see him love it. With wary eyes on Jimin as he moves behind the desk towards the filing cabinets, Yoongi nods. "The- what you were doing with that guy on stage. I- I want that."

Jimin blinks, turning his back to his husband to mask his surprise, fingers hooking the edge of the top drawer of one of the cabinets, each one labelled alphabetically. "Is that so? We did a lot on that stage, baby, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

Yoongi is silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound as Jimin carefully slides the drawer open, revealing neatly sectioned rows of anal plugs. He grins. A for Anal, B for Bondage, C for Chastity. The designers really took their job seriously, and he could appreciate the humour in it.

He lets Yoongi take his time, knowing that saying something is often the hardest part. Instead, he notes the location of the drawer marked P, and turns back to his husband.

Looking incredibly small, tucked up on the intentionally oversized armchair, Yoongi clears his throat, making shy eye contact. "The paddles," he says in a high tone, like he's unsure he's even using the correct word, "I want you to- to hit me with them like you did him."

"You want me to spank that pretty little ass of yours?" Jimin confirms, loving the way his husband goes bright pink.

"Y-yeah," he replies breathily, dropping his gaze. "Will you?"

Despite the raging fire inside him, Jimin's heart leaps fondly, so in love with his husband and all his endearing mannerisms. "Of course, baby. But let's start slow, hm? Gotta make your first time special, don't we?"

Yoongi laughs, then, full of air and barely audible, his lips lilting in a small smile that still shows his teeth.

Jimin tilts his head to the side. "What?"

With a tiny head shake, Yoongi contains his grin. "I just really wanna kiss you right now."

Jimin is moving before he's even finished speaking, his hip barely missing the corner of the desk in his haste to join his husband, knees straddling his lap without hesitation, holding those soft cheeks in both hands as he presses his lips firmly against Yoongi's, eyes fluttering shut.

Their parting kiss before Yoongi left for work this morning feels too long ago, and for a moment their new arrangement is forgotten as they fall into their usual motions, years of marriage making every inch of Yoongi's lips feel familiar, the bump of their noses and brush of eyelashes like home even in such a different environment.

With no rush, Jimin lets himself indulge in it, burying one hand in Yoongi's hair, carding through the choppy black locks that are no longer gelled back. His other hand slides down Yoongi's jaw, neck, and chest, tugging at the knot of his tie to loosen it. He makes no effort to be gentle, and his husband just groans into Jimin's mouth at the rough treatment.

It's all too easy to shift into his dom space, a practiced scale of gradually increasing intensity. It begins with the tie, but soon enough Jimin punctuates their ongoing kiss with hard sucks and quick nips of teeth, Yoongi tipping his chin up to drown in it more. Testing the waters, Jimin rocks his hips once against Yoongi's taut crotch and yanks once on a fistful of hair, baring the pale expanse of Yoongi's neck.

The debauched lawyer bucks beneath him, hands flying to grip tightly at Jimin's waist. His long, beautiful fingers and wide palm have always made Jimin feel weak at the knees, and feeling them grasp at him not in command but in desperation feels addictive.

"You like that?" he breathes, voice low enough to almost growl, and Yoongi shivers as he nods his affirmation. "Good," Jimin praises, and dives down, teeth grazing down the sensitive skin of Yoongi's throat, skimming until he feels the throb of his pulse point. Yoongi can't risk marks at work, certainly not in court, but it's a Friday, and Jimin is feeling more possessive than usual. He nips lightly but laps at the skin thoroughly, knowing the best he can get away with is a reddened bite mark which would fade over the weekend. The hickies were best saved for other areas, he knew.

Yoongi is panting like a horse now, air punched through his nostrils as he bites down hard on his own swollen lip. Jimin knows the effect he has on his subs, and grins against the glistening wet skin of Yoongi's neck at the hardness that has grown between his legs. "Wuh-want more, Minnie," he gasps out, "need more."

Jimin hums, making sure Yoongi can feel the vibrations in the hollow of his throat, sliding up to press kisses to that hyper-sensitive place just behind Yoongi's ear that always made him tremble.

It doesn't disappoint, Yoongi letting out a shaky breath as his arms wrap around Jimin's waist, trying to bring him closer.

Jimin doesn't let him, though, pulling back to sit on his haunches, running a thumb down Yoongi's reddened lower lip to watch the way it springs back into place. Yoongi sits still, eyes cloudy as he lets his dom for the night play with him. The thought pleases Jimin; that Yoongi truly was wanting this, truly was willing to give up control to him.

He spares a glance down between his own thighs, where the cool grey of Yoongi's slacks makes no attempt at hiding his bulging erection. Pouting in sympathy, Jimin reaches out with a single finger to trace the outline, watching the muscles in his husband's thighs tense as he fights to stay still. "So hard already, baby," Jimin drawls, "do you think that pretty little cock of yours can wait its turn while I spank you, hm? Can it be patient for me?"

Yoongi flushes, whining Jimin's name under his breath. "Yes," he admits, huffing out a reluctant sigh.

"Yes what?"

Yoongi grimaces at Jimin, but the dom just raises an expectant brow. "Yes, my- my pretty little cock can be patient for you," Yoongi murmurs in the quietest voice he can manage, cheeks red hot.

"That's my boy," Jimin beams, rewarding his husband by popping the button and pulling down the zip on the fly of Yoongi's slacks, releasing some of the pressure. Yoongi groans, deep in his throat, but his relief is quickly thwarted once Jimin stands up off him.

Making his way back to the filing cabinets, Jimin quickly slides open the one labeled P. Splayed out neatly lie five different paddles. Three are plastic, one a basic rounded shape, another that same shape only with several small holes drilled through for a sharper impact, and a final one a rectangular shape. The next one is hard wood, heavy, Jimin recalls, and the one tucked at the back is a softly upholstered pleather one for beginners. Then there's the ruler, of course, though that's a little cheesy for the current mood.

He assesses the five inside at his leisure, knowing every moment of anticipation will feel like an eternity to his husband, and finally makes a choice. He slides the cabinet drawer closed.

Yoongi makes a wounded, cut-off noise in his throat, but Jimin sends him a firm gaze.

"I'll give you what you want, baby," Jimin assures, wetting his lips, "but first I want to feel you myself. Pants and underwear off, jacket off, I want you bent over my desk."

Yoongi sucks in a sudden breath, but stands up on wobbly legs and slips off his blazer. It's probably too expensive to be dumping it on the chair behind him, but Yoongi clearly isn't worried about that as he kicks off his shoes and pants too, only hesitating once his fingers are hooked on the elastic waistband of his underwear.

"Off," Jimin demands harshly, "I won't ask again."

This time Yoongi obeys without delay, and Jimin takes great pleasure in watching the way his husband's cock leaps up once it's freed, pretty and pink and wetter than he'd ever seen it before. Though Yoongi always tended to top, his cock was smaller - more slender, at least - than Jimin's, but he loved it, loved that a hasty three fingers was enough prep on those times that they just couldn't wait to devour each other.

Now, though, with mussed hair and wrinkled shirt, naked from the waist down bar a pair of black ankle socks, Jimin's husband looked positively adorable in the most erotic way, and Jimin wanted nothing more than to make him wait, make him work to cum.

When Yoongi folds himself over the desk, side-on to Jimin to make use of the length of the surface, his hands awkwardly hover on either side of him, keeping himself slightly upright still. The back of his shirt is just long enough to cover the tops of his cheeks, and the sight of his rounded ass and dripping cock peeking through is enough to make Jimin actively restrain himself, taking a moment to breathe and appreciate this opportunity.

He steps forward, planting a hand between Yoongi's shoulder blades and presses, slow enough that Yoongi has time to move his face to the side to avoid banging his chin, but firm enough that there's no resisting. Yoongi goes willingly, however, his back arching as the table is just lower than his hips. Like this, no fabric obstructs Jimin's view, and he hums, pleased. "Good boy."

Yoongi trembles, his legs tight together and knees shaking just slightly. He's nervous at the vulnerable position, but no less aroused for it.

With the tip of his shoe, Jimin guides Yoongi's legs apart, until his socked feet are wider than his hips, until he needs to lean his weight onto the desktop to keep stable.

"That's it," Jimin praises, "my perfect little slut. So obedient."

Yoongi's right knee buckles at the exact moment that he hears the pet name, and Jimin grins. The piece of paper in his pocket had a long list of suggestions for names he was okay being called, and the dom couldn't resist picking out his favourite. The perfect mix of praise and degradation, it flowed so well on his tongue; the smooth, melodic sounds punctuated by the sharp hit of the t. Slut. Jimin muffles a groan, pressing on his own straining erection.

Unable to help himself, he reaches out, both hands grabbing at the plush ass cheeks in front of him, spreading them to watch the way Yoongi clenches at the sudden exposure. This must be what he looks like when they play together, Jimin thinks. He wonders if Yoongi is enjoying the change in pace just as much as he is.

"I'm going to start you off with just my hands, baby," he introduces, running a palm under the hem of his shirt and up Yoongi's spine to watch the way he shivers. "I'm sure you're well aware of the traffic light system, hm? Tell me what the colours mean."

Yoongi shifts, fingers curling uselessly against the tabletop as his eyes remain squeezed shut. "Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green means go," he recites, the exact phrasing off the dungeon's website, and Jimin bends down to press a single soft kiss on the top of Yoongi's ass as a reward, making him twitch violently. "Fuck, Jimin-ah," he sighs, arching his back even more.

Jimin grins. "Good. I'm adding another colour, just for you," he explains. "Gold. Can you guess what gold means?"

Yoongi swallows, shifts his weight, and shakes his head.

Jimin digs his fingers into the flesh of Yoongi's ass, watching them pillow in roughly. "Gold means more. Gold means harder. Okay?"

Yoongi nods quickly, hair even more tangled with every movement.

"Good boy," Jimin croons, and without further comment his left hand rises and comes down in a single strike.

Yoongi seizes up for a second at the shock of it, but there's no power behind the hit, and his brain realises a moment later that no pain follows the loud noise. He huffs in need and pushes his hips back, silently asking for more. "Gold, g-gold," he mutters offbeat, already panting.

Jimin hums in pleasure, and swats his right cheek this time, feeling a sting bloom across his palm. Still not nearly the hardest he can go, it's clearly not enough for Yoongi, as he remains stoic, waiting for more.

The next time, Jimin lets his hand really catch the air on the way down, but he doesn't stop at one hit, raining down three in quick succession on the same spot. Yoongi breathes through the first impact, freezes in surprise at the second one, and an unbidden moan falls out of his mouth at the third.

"Mm, that's better, isn't it?" Jimin muses rhetorically, soothing the slightly pinked patch of skin with his warmed hand. "Just need a bit more pain to let go."

"Please," Yoongi breathes, "jus' keep going."

"Bossy," Jimin teases, "I'm meant to be giving you orders, baby. If you don't quit it, I might not give you what you want at all."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, ple-please hit me again," Yoongi begs mindlessly, and Jimin can't help but indulge him, his husband sounding so pretty when he whines.

When he returns to spanking again, it's in earnest. Instead of pausing to check in each time, he relies on his husband's telling cues to moderate it, as well as the sweet pleas of gold, gold every time Jimin spent too long between swats.

Much like the rest of him, Yoongi's ass blooms candied pink, and with every strike, Jimin can't help but venture further, wanting to colour him in all over. The spanks that fall on Yoongi's upper thighs make him restless, squirming and moaning wordlessly. The ones that land on the fatty portion of his ass have him sighing happily, crooked smile slicked in drool against the wood of the desk.

The two of them slip into an unspoken rhythm for a while, alternating these hits on either side, of varying number and intensity, until Yoongi has almost fallen into a trance of sorts, mouth hanging open slackly as a whine or moan or whimper is falling out of his mouth with every single thwack.

Jimin's arm begins to tire, and just as he pauses to shake out the joints, Yoongi pants a, "wait, wait," making him pause.

It takes a moment for Yoongi to catch his breath, but Jimin waits patiently, scanning his ass and thighs for any sign of something that could be causing undue comfort, but he comes up short. With a weak, slurred voice, Yoongi lets out a sob. "I wanna use the paddle, Minnie, I wanna feel it," he pleads, "I've h-had enough of the spanking."

Jimin furrows his brows in concern, massaging out the sore tissue as Yoongi goes lax beneath him. "If you've had enough, baby, we should stop. I don't wanna push you."

Yoongi actually tears up, biting hard on his lip as he shakes his head. "Please, Minnie, just a few times, I just need it to be- to be heavy. I don't know, but I need it. Gold, please gold."

"Okay," Jimin is agreeing softly, squatting down to press reassuring kisses against the hot flesh, feeling his own palm stinging. He leaves only to slide open the drawer of paddles, selecting the wooden one. He knew from subspace himself that sometimes those base, thoughtless needs stemmed from something deeper, from an emotional need tangled up daily life. Once, in the early days of doing demonstrations at the dungeon, Jimin had gotten stage fright and done such a poor job of a fingering tutorial that the sweet sub he was working on didn't even cum. He'd come home to Yoongi bawling in humiliation, and his husband had lain him down on their bed and made him cum so many times that he couldn't even think, couldn't move a single limb. Now, Jimin had no doubt that the need to feel a heavy impact had something to do with the reason Yoongi had taken an uncharacteristic sick day.

Talking about it wouldn't help, would only break the escapism of the scene, so Jimin just runs the face of the wooden paddle over Yoongi's sore ass, letting him grow accustomed to the feel and texture. "Just two hits," Jimin declares, "one on each cheek. No more. Focus on them, baby. Eyes closed, just feel them."

He waits until Yoongi settles, spreading his legs wider with wiggling toes, and catching his breath, one hand pressed over his teary eyes.

Jimin swings the paddle backwards, not up, and lets it impact on Yoongi's left cheek first, a wet, strangled moan leaving his husband's mouth at the thuddy feel. The wooden paddle didn't hurt like spanking or a lighter paddle. It was about the weighty feel of it hitting your skin, a light hit so as not to cause bruising.

A line of tension disappears between Yoongi's clothed shoulders, the sweaty fabric clinging to his back. He's calmed down, fully, waiting patiently for the second strike. The second Jimin rains that final hit, he drops the paddle onto the carpeted floor, exhausted himself, and moves around to the side of the desk, bending awkwardly over it to press his mouth to Yoongi's, who makes a muffled sound of surprise before responding in turn.

Jimin's hand is curled around the nape of his husband's neck, keeping him close as tears mingle with spit, their kiss salty and desperate.

He feels a vibration between them before he hears anything, has to focus hard to hear Yoongi as he chants over and over like a prayer, thanking Jimin.

He slows the kiss after a sweet eternity, letting their heartbeats return to normal. Jimin's own eyes sting, love and concern a potent combination, but as the adrenaline settles back to normal, Yoongi calms down too, and seems to come back to himself.

He pulls away to let out a tired breath, laughing voicelessly. "Fuck," Yoongi curses with eyes still closed in bliss. "I get it now."

Jimin beams, a chuckle leaving his own lips as he sees the peace on his husband's face. After a moment, though, a frown appears as Yoongi furrows his brows. "What is it?"

"My dick hurts," Yoongi whines, managing to get his elbows under him to lift his chest from the table, head in his hands.

Jimin startles, standing bolt upright as he rushes down to look for any injury. "Oh shit, did I hit it?"

The laugh returns, bubbling out of Yoongi as he turns himself with great effort onto his back, chest still rising and falling dramatically. "No, Jimin-ah, don't worry," he assures, wincing when his ass-cheeks meet the unforgiving surface of the desk. "But if I don't cum soon, I think it's gonna explode."

Jimin's mouth falls open, relief and disbelief flooding his veins equally as he's faced with Yoongi's cock, so flushed with blood it's almost purple in places. "I- Okay, do you- do you want me to get you off, or do you want to keep playing?"

Yoongi looks at him like he's insane. "I mean... Preferably both, Minnie."

After the moment of scare, it takes surprisingly little time before that thrum of arousal is dialed up again, and Jimin smirks, running his hands up and down Yoongi's inner thighs to watch the way he naturally and obediently parts them for him.

"Do you know what I realised, baby?" Jimin coos, stubbornly avoiding the weeping cock in front of him. Yoongi mutters a weak response. "I realised that so far I've been doing all the work so far, haven't I? That isn't really fair, wouldn't you agree?"

Wary, Yoongi pauses and nods, the blur of tears long since replaced by the haze of arousal, of subspace beginning to creep in once more.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Jimin drawls, flattening a hand heavy on the soft flesh just above Yoongi's cock, making the man moan and wriggle to escape the pressure. "So I think, if you want to get off, you should put a little work in yourself. Make some effort, baby."

Yoongi takes a few heaving breaths, before slowly, so carefully, lowering his hand down to wrap around the base of his cock, immediately groaning at the touch. He's leaked so much precum that it takes a single shaky stroke to coat the sensitive skin, and a relieved smile spreads over his face at the thought that he's finally going to get off.

But where's the fun in that?

"Don't you think you're being a little selfish?" Jimin spits stiffly, and flicks once at the very tip of Yoongi's dick.

His husband practically howls, curling up with a depraved cry. "Wha-at?" he sobs, hand trembling as it hovers on his thigh, fighting his desire. "What do you want, Minnie?"

"How sweet of you to ask," Jimin praises in a sugar-sweet voice, reaching down to unzip his own jeans. "Those hands are big enough to fit the both of us, aren't they?"

Blearily, Yoongi looks down as Jimin slips his aching cock out from his pants, fitting himself between Yoongi's spread legs so that their bobbing lengths bump together.

Even that contact is enough to make Yoongi hiss, but he's desperate and so he nods quickly, fingers trembling as they grab Jimin's cock, pinning them together in his grip. He pauses, panting as he stares up at Jimin for permission.

Jimin smiles placidly, bending forward to press a single chaste kiss to his husband's lips. "I don't want you cumming before I do, okay?" he asks sweetly, though the threat is thinly veiled.

Using the strength of his abdomen to lift his upper half off the desk, Yoongi stabilises himself with an elbow while his other hand jerks the two of them off together, thumb running over the sensitive heads, paying extra attention to Jimin's.

"That's it," Jimin groans, biting hard on his tongue. Truth be told, it was hard enough for him to hold back, feeling threads of an orgasm already knitting together in his stomach. But he's not willing to let go of the pretty sight of Yoongi just yet, so debauched and far gone as he shivers with every stroke, torn between making Jimin cum and preventing his own climax.

After mere minutes, Yoongi has collapsed back onto the desk, ankles curled around Jimin's back to hold him close, hand shaking violently.

"Please," he begs occasionally, but the moment his hand slows down to give himself a break, Jimin pinches his inner thigh in warning. They both knew marks there were allowed.

It's not until Yoongi is quite literally biting down on his own knuckles to hold back an orgasm that Jimin can't keep himself from cumming anymore.

Greedily, he runs his hands over Yoongi's sides, skimming the shirt up to put his chest on display, flicking at the delicate pink nipples. Jimin cums so hard he almost buckles forward onto Yoongi, spurting white all over Yoongi's hand and cock.

He holds himself up shakily, spouting praises to Yoongi as the wave of pleasure rushes through him, making his toes tingle and his fingers curl, scratches down Yoongi's chest and stomach.

"Oh, god, I'm gonna- Mi-Minnie, can I cum, oh fuh-fuck, no!"

One last liberty taken in his time as Yoongi's dom, Jimin pulls himself away, pinning Yoongi's wrists to the table and watching as his cock, dripping white, bobs desperately in the air, seeking friction.

Yoongi babbles pleas and curses, hips jerking, but it only takes Jimin leaning down, blowing a single thin stream of cool air over Yoongi's cock for Yoongi's thighs to tense. He cums, untouched, shuddering and seizing on the table as Jimin takes mercy and wraps his hand around him to stroke him through it.

"Look at you," Jimin croons in wonder, watching cum spill between his fingers, the two of them mixed together indistinguishably. "Baby, you look perfect like this. Please tell me you want to do that again."

Yoongi makes a strangled, guttural noise as he goes limp on the table, legs dangling off the edge. "Fuck, not right away, you demon," he protests grumpily, "now come kiss me again."

With a fond beam, heart so full with love and post-orgasm endorphins that he can barely handle it, Jimin tugs him up by his forearms and joins their mouths together, Yoongi's one dry hand tangling in his hair as he smiles into the kiss.

It takes only a few moments, however, for the sticky reality to sink in, and soon enough Yoongi is parting, letting his forehead rest against Jimin's. "I don't suppose there are any wet wipes in here?" he ventures.

Jimin chuckles, leaning back. "Cleaning materials in the desk drawers," he divulges.

With crazy sex hair and wide eyes, Yoongi makes quite the picture. "Fuck, I love this place. Let's try the interrogation one next time, yeah?"

[justmeandmysickies]

@angstyaches this is probably not exactly what you had in mind but I hope you still like it!

Bonding

characters: Nick and Joe

warnings: emeto

„Please come over, I’m sick.“ That was all Nick had said, before the line clicked, indicating that the call had ended.

Now usually Joe would have called him right back to give him a piece of his mind – he wasn’t Nick’s mother after all – but it was different this time.

Nick was always whiny when sick. His usually so stoic and smug self would be replaced by the attitude of a needy 7-year-old as soon as he had the sniffles. And that was never a reason to worry. He’d be back to behaving like himself after a few days of resting, so Joe usually wouldn’t bother going over there to take care of him. Since Nick would be either sleeping or harassing him 24/7 it was simply not worth it.

But something about Nick’s call had Joe in his car and on the road in a matter of seconds. Something was wrong. Nick hadn’t sounded whiny. He had sounded like he was in pain. Genuine pain. And Joe didn’t like the idea of that one bit.

He arrived at Nick’s building several minutes later, grocery bag filled with sick-day-supplies in hand.

Joe briefly wondered if his boyfriend had been smart enough to leave the apartment unlocked for him but fortunately the door swung open with ease.

Upon entering the small but cozy living room, he was immediately greeted by Fork, the red cat Nick had adopted just a few months prior to the beginning of their relationship. Joe had never understood that decision – he wasn’t particularly fond of the general concept of having pets, especially not the ones that could kill you in your sleep if they wanted to.

Nick however seemed to love his miniature tiger, so Joe had to live with that. Still, he couldn’t help the face of disgust as Fork rubbed up against his leg, leaving behind a trail of red hair on his black jeans.

Despite his obvious dislike for the cat, Joe stepped into the kitchen to check if his ill-stricken boyfriend had remembered to feed his pet. The food-bowl seemed reasonably full, so he started putting away the few groceries he had bought, ignoring Fork who was looking up at him expectantly as he opened up the cabinet that contained the cat treats.

Satisfied with himself, he closed the cabinets and grabbed some Gatorade for Nick to drink. Now came the hard stuff.

Joe had no idea how to care for other people. His entire life he had been taking care of himself but when it came to others he was at a loss. Maybe it was his lack of empathy. Or maybe it was his fear of things that aren’t in his control. Or he was simply scared that people would see that he actually cared. Whatever the reason, he usually avoided having to take care of someone at all costs. But this was his boyfriend, and he needed his help, so Joe had to suck it up.

And that’s why he braced himself with a deep breath and took off down the hallway to Nick’s bedroom, Fork right on his heels.

Joe opened the door in one swift motion, letting the two of them into the room. It was dark; Nick had pulled all the curtains closed. The sick man himself was only a lump buried in pillows and blankets.

Joe stood still for a few seconds, trying to figure out if his boyfriend was asleep, momentarily forgetting about the cat that had followed him into the room. And before he could stop him, Fork had already jumped up the bed, immediately cuddling close to his owner’s face.

Nick groaned and Joe could have slapped himself. He had probably been asleep before Fork decided to get in his face. “Fork, how the hell did you open the door?” The blonde asked, voice heavy with sleep as he gave his cat a little shove.

“He didn’t.” Joe answered as he stepped closer to the bed.

Nick looked up in confusion. He obviously hadn’t noticed Joe standing there. “Josh? What are you doing here?”

Joe frowned. That was alarming to say the least. “You called me.” He put a careful hand on his boyfriend’s forehead, fearing the worst. Nick just hummed, leaning into Joe’s cool palm, who clicked his tongue in concern. “You’re burning up. Have you taken your temperature?” He drew his hand back and Nick whined at the loss of contact.

“I didn’t feel like it.” He mumbled quietly, burying himself deeper in his pillow.

“What do you mean you didn’t feel like taking your temperature? Have you at least taken some medicine?” Joe couldn’t decide if he was very irritated or very concerned.

“No, didn’t feel like doing that either.”

Irritated. He was definitely very irritated. And it took him every ounce of willpower to not yell at the sick man in front of him.

Joe took a deep breath. He could do this. “I’ll get you some medication in a second. First, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Everything.” Came the reply from deep within the covers. It was clear Nick didn’t feel like talking but in order to help him, Joe had to know what was going on.

“Babe.” Joe sighed impatiently, waiting for a useful answer.

Nick groaned but stuck his head out from under the covers anyway. He was quiet for a moment, before he answered. “Everything. I’m not kidding. But mainly my ear. It hurts so bad, when I first woke up this morning I actually cried for a while.”

He laughed nervously after the last part, trying to play it off as a joke but Joe knew it was true. Nick was honest when he wasn’t feeling well.

His concern only grew when Nick winced visibly, closed his eyes, and started taking deep breaths.

Joe thought for a moment and then it hit him.

“Are you dizzy?” Nick hummed affirmatively. “Feel sick?” Another hum. “Does it feel like there is pressure in your ear or your head in general?” Nick stilled for a second, seemingly thinking about his answer before nodding.

“You have an ear infection.” Joe stated matter-of-factly. Unfortunately, he was all too familiar with the concept. He used to get ear infections all the time as a kid and even as an adult he still dealt with them every other year. The pain could be excruciating, at times having you unable to move. No wonder Nick was feeling so awful.

The latter only groaned, too exhausted to form words or even sentences.

“Alright, here is the deal.” In a way Joe was glad it was an ear infection – that was at least something he would be able to deal with. “I’ll get you some fever reducers and something to drink. You’ll take a bath and then you’ll go back to resting. If this isn’t better by tomorrow, I’ll take you to a doctor.”

“Why do I need to take a bath?” Nick whined, once again burying his face under his blanket.

Rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s childish behavior, Joe pulled the blanket lower to expose Nick’s face. “Because you stink. And it might make you feel better.”

Nick wanted to argue but Joe had already left the room to grab some medicine so there really was no point. He returned seconds later with some pills.

The next step was the bath. Nick reached his arms out and Joe pulled him upwards with seemingly no effort. In hindsight, that was a horrible idea. A wave of dizziness hit Nick like a truck as soon as he was upright. If it hadn’t been for Joe, he would have crumpled to the floor right then and there.

Joe held his partner close, encouraging him to take some deep breaths when suddenly Nick’s entire body convulsed with a dangerously wet sounding retch. He was trying to decide whether to get a bucket or get his boyfriend to the bathroom, but Nick made that decision for him as he bolted towards the door, a hand clamped tightly over his mouth.

He was so dizzy he could barely see where he was going – it was like his body was moving on autopilot. It’s a miracle he didn’t run face first into a wall.

He crashed to the floor in front of the toilet, just seconds before last nights meager dinner made a reappearance, along with the medicine he’d just taken.

Joe went after him hesitantly, wanting to help but not knowing how. He ultimately settled on keeping Nick’s hair out of his face. It wasn’t much but it was appreciated.

The entire ordeal seemed to be a one-and-done thing. The blonde was left panting and spitting excess saliva into the toilet for a while, but his stomach seemed to have calmed down for the time being.

“Why the fuck do you puke, when your ear is infected?” Nick asked breathlessly while wiping some sweat from his brow.

“I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure it’s cause of the pain.” Joe answered, getting up to turn on the water for the bathtub.

At that moment Fork casually strolled into the bathroom and right onto Nick’s lap where he immediately settled down, purring lovingly. The blonde couldn’t help but smile a bit as he scratched his cat behind his ear.

The three of them sat there in silence for a while, Nick being too exhausted to talk and Joe not knowing what to say anyway.

Joe once again helped his boyfriend to his feet, when the bath was ready, although a lot slower this time. He even helped the sick man undress before he turned to leave the bathroom. “Wash up, I’m gonna change your bedsheets.”

“But I’m too tired to bathe by myself.” Nick whined as he struggled to step into the tub.

Joe turned around slowly, not quite believing what his boyfriend had just said. “Are you telling me that you need my help bathing?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Please?” Nick pouted, which was a rather bizarre image, considering that he was muscular, over 6 feet tall and covered in tattoos.

The younger man sighed in defeat. “Fine. But I’m not getting in with you. I literally just showered two hours ago.”

“Deal.”

Turns out, it was a good decision not to leave Nick alone. He was sleepy and if it hadn’t been for Joe, he would’ve probably drowned in his own bathtub. Right now Joe was carefully massaging shampoo into his boyfriend’s scalp who was about to drift off to sleep. He had been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last ten minutes, but it was a losing battle. It was impossible to stay awake with the heavenly feeling of Joe’s fingers in his hair.

And the latter didn’t mind. Any other day he’d yell at Nick for sleeping in the bathtub but not today. He could use the rest and Joe was there to watch him, make sure he was alright. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt him. So Joe started rinsing out the shampoo as Nick fell asleep.

Fork, who had been forced to get up from his owners lap several minutes ago, now decided to settle into the brunette’s side. He still wasn’t a fan of pets but maybe he could get used to this one, Joe thought, unable to hide the fond smile that had snuck up on him.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Money, Money, Money Part 1

Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader, slight Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: lots of swearing, silly drunk mobs, mentions of alcoholism, parody, Peter is adult, is this a crack fic??

Words: 2578.

Summary: When Steve finds out somebody has stolen their money, Bucky realizes he has to take his ass off the leather couch in his office, finally.

P.S. This is my first attempt to write humor and I’m sorry in advance for everything I’ve written here 😅

_________________

“BITCH, DID I STUTTER WHEN I SAID TO KEEP THAT SAFE CLOSED AT ALL TIMES?”

Allyson massaged her temples softly and let out a groan: if Mr. Rogers continued to yell like that, he would definitely choke soon. This morning he had been pretending to be the death, vengeance and fury, ready to kick the ass of her immediate superior, James Barnes, who acted like he was deaf, unable to pull himself from the couch where he slept after getting drunk as a fish last night. Oh, poor Bucky. Apparently, he fucked things up again if Mr. Rogers stormed into his office like he was getting chased by a 200-pound dog.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you son of a...” glancing at a pouting man-child with a three-day beard, Steve covered his face with his palm and let out an exasperated sigh, “... respectable woman who would die of shame if she saw you now!”

“Come on, Stevie,” the man yawned, finally moving his huge, muscular body up to sit instead of just laying on the couch since he felt a little guilty Steve was getting all riled up while he just chilled, “why so serious? Yeah, somebody took a bit of cash from the safe, it’s not a big deal.”

Allyson heard everything as if they were speaking right in front of her - Bucky was a real Mr. Cheapo who didn’t want to rent an office with decent walls - and quickly closed her ears, wishing she had taken her earplugs today. Her boss just made a grave mistake, and now both of them were going to pay for it with their eardrums.

“NOT A BIG DEAL? NOT A BIG DEAL, YOU MASSIVE BAG OF DOUCHE?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY WAS THERE, HUH?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THOSE MONEY WERE FOR?!”

Seriously, she considered getting a new job, but these free daily standup shows were both tiring and so fucking funny she was afraid she might wet her seat.

“Oh my fucking God, Bucky, I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll... no, I have a better idea!” Steve gave his best friend a dirty look. “I’ll call your uncle. Yeah, you know which one. He’ll be sooo happy to take you drunk ass to jail and then give your mama a call. I bet she has a cure for both your attitude and alcoholism.”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

Suddenly realizing the danger he was in, Bucky quickly got up, almost falling to the floor but holding on the leather chair in the very last second. When Steve talked about calling his uncle, a chief of police of the neighboring town where his whole family lived, it meant things were going bad. Real bad.

“Bucky, it was the part we were going to invest into Pierce’s casino. I have to take it to him tomorrow morning. TOMORROW FUCKING MORNING, DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU STINKING DRUNK?”

“I’m drunk but not deaf, Steve!”

“Oh my God, I’m driving you to a rehab, go gather your stuff right now!”

Allyson sighed, getting up and proceeding to choose the most beautiful cup to fill it with fresh coffee: when their conflicts escalated to threats, it meant her boss would soon start to sweet-talk, apologizing to his best friend and promising to sober up and get things right. Every time she felt like Mr. Rogers would really do something to Bucky, the guy used his natural charisma and charm and got away with anything by just reminding Steve how he fought for his best friend in the dark alleys when Rogers was a sick, skinny kid. It worked every damn time.

There they were again, talking about same things with Bucky swearing on his mother’s life that he will find the money and bring it back to Steve. Usually it meant the threats were coming to an end, and soon Mr. Rogers would open the door and come out red as a lobster, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. There he would see her with a cup of nice coffee with cream and two spoons of sugar just like he preferred, gladly accepting it and saying nobody understand him but her. Then Allyson would smile compassionately, listen to his small talk before he went out the office, and wait until her grumpy boss would fall out the room, reeking alcohol, and ask her what the fuck had happened yesterday.

After that in a couple of minutes things would finally settle down, and Allyson would have a chance to give a call to her best friend.

_______________________________

Your day couldn’t start better: you had finally received your Amazon order - hooray to the stupid makeup tools you would use, like, once a year - and even watched your favorite Netflix series with a cup of a fragrant coffee with marshmallows because it was Sunday and you were finally free from both work and cleaning the apartment. It felt so nice to just do absolutely nothing, laying on your couch with a piece of pizza in your hand. Seriously, even a workaholic like you had to do it more often.

Your lazy morning was interrupted by Peter, a sweet college student who was getting into troubles more often than a drunk in a local bar: you seriously considered calling him Harry Potter after you found him half-naked with a scratch on his forehead standing in the corridor of your building and holding a broom. To protect himself from bullies, he said, by the look on his face you could tell it was as good as a magic wand against 6"4 ft tall guys, seriously.

Since he rented an apartment with other unlucky nerds who had zero skills how to survive in this cruel world, you ended up nearly baby-sitting Peter, patching him up after he was getting in a fight and lending him some money time after time when he struggled to pay rent or buy food. His parents were elderly people with income below average, but they still did whatever they could to give him an education, so you decided to give the guy a hand.

Now that baby was standing in front of you, lit up like a Christmas tree, with a bouquet of wonderful pink roses, big box of hand-crafted chocolates and a whole bag of what looked like some very fine food, even a bottle of champagne clinking inside.

"Good morning, Fairy Godmother! I came to bring back what I owe you!" His smile was a mile wide when he looked at your face, happy to the point he couldn't stand still, dancing like those Duracell rabbits in the tv ad.

"You're up early, Cinderella."

You yawned, laughing when you saw the guy pouting at the nickname you gave him - tf he expected for calling you Fairy Godmother?

"Don't stand there, come in."

When he actually handed you the flowers and chocolates, giving you a quick peck on the cheek shyly, you froze, finally realizing he brought all this for you. Wait, what? Where the heck did he get so much money to buy that expensive stuff? You thought he was helping his other neighbor who was planning to finally propose to his girlfriend. Perplexed to the point you nearly missed that peck, you blinked at tomato red Peter.

"Please don't tell me you robbed your 90-year-old paralytic professor."

"Why don't you ask if I robbed a bank?" He pouted again, putting the bag on the floor and getting a hundred dollar banknote out of his old leather wallet. "I actually came to thank you for everything you've done for me. And I didn't rob anyone! I got a real job!"

"Real job?" You eyed him curiously. "But don't you already have a job in delivery?"

"Pfft, you can't call it a job. It was getting one nasty smelling pizza from one place to the other while looking miserable."

You barely held your laugh, leaving the bouquet and chocolates on the side table and rubbing guy's back. Poor Peter, nobody was giving him a hand - while you couldn't question people's decision since the guy wasn't the most reliable one, it was still a shame he wasn't treated decently as if all of them weren't young and careless once.

Wait, but who on Earth gave him such a well-paid job all of a sudden? He must have spent hundreds of dollars on the bouquet, chocolates, food and champagne, not even counting those 100 dollars he owed.

Oh God.

"Please don't tell me you're working for some shady business." You looked at him in horror, your hand flying to your mouth. "Peter, is it Tony's band?!"

"Jesus woman, why would I work for some stupid mob." The guy rolled his eyes, and you sighed in relief, not knowing what to except from this trouble on two skinny legs. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing bad! I just have to keep it a secret before I get a contract. Once I figure it out, I’ll explain everything, I swear!”

“Alright, alright, don’t stress over it, I’m not your Ma.” Smirking, you went to take a square glass vase you hadn’t use in ages, filling it with water to drop the bouquet inside. “Let’s celebrate it, then! Woah, careful there, give me that bottle until you drop it on my clean floor, I’ve been scrubbing it for hours yesterday!”

_______________________

Bucky still felt like Steve was making too much of a big deal out of it: obviously, it was Tony who went to him at night when Bucky was already drunk like a monkey, celebrating the birth of Clint’s daughter. Nobody else had the courage to steal from him, Steve’s right hand, an ex-soldier who had a reputation of a man killing with the first punch. Not that Bucky ever killed anybody, actually being a ex-trumpet in an army band...

Anyway, the man was heading over to Stark’s Tower, a motel where he and all his guys lived when his wife Pepper was out of town. Pepper had definitely been out of town lately since Tony didn’t call: when she was coming back, Steve and Tony were having a two-day truce with nobody getting in a fight because it was making Mrs. Stark upset, and when she was upset, both Steve and Tony didn’t risk getting out of their holes to face this enraged blonde woman who could make anyone wet themselves with one her glance. If there were anyone killing with just one punch in the town, it got to be Pepper.

As he got closer in his Cadillac that looked like it went through fire and water before being sold to Bucky, Barnes stared at the motel suspiciously: it was strangely quiet with everyone hiding inside, not a man guarding the motel’s entrance. What the hell happened? Tony loved showing off, pretending he ruled over the town, and he would definitely act like a king after stealing Steve’s and his money. It was unbelievable Bucky so nobody welcoming him with a smirk.

Hoping he didn’t use all that money for emptying a liquor store, Bucky parked the car and went to the motel, dying to have some beer: one heartless blonde boss of his emptied his fridge.

“Oh, more drinking partners returning to continue the fun, huh?”

Bucky froze immediately, staring at Pepper who stood in the doorway with a face of an iron maiden. Jesus fucking Christ. She returned to the city way before Tony told him, and it was clear she found him not in the condition she expected to. While Bucky considered whether it was better to run, Tony’s head appeared somewhere behind his wife, and Barnes saw Tony was as drunk as him, if not even more. He could see a huge blue mark from Pepper’s heavy hand on Stark’s cheek.

“Who’s that, honey?” The man asked innocently, earning an enraged glance from his wife, and Bucky thought he should have run. “Hi, Buck! Come on in, it’s ok if you didn’t bring beer even if I asked twice.”

Oh. Something was going on. Of course, Bucky could rat the man out immediately, telling Pepper he wasn’t drinking with Tony yesterday’s night, but he wasn’t such a heartless bastard - by the look on Stark’s face Barnes could see his sweet blonde wifey would beat poor Tony to death with her Dior handbag.

“Sorry, I blacked out for a couple of hours in my car.” He mumbled, bowing his head in respect. “Pepper, such a pleasure to see you.”

“Come on in, alcoholic.” Her gaze was heavy, and Bucky shivered a little, carefully leaving his shoes near the door and scurrying away to the coach where Tony sat, nervously biting his fingers. “Well, do you wanna tell me something, huh? How many hookers have you brought here yesterday?”

Glancing to Tony and back to Pepper, Barnes suddenly realized his frenemy had been so drunk he had no hecking idea whether somebody really brought hookers to the motel - it was a total taboo, but once they got drunk they could barely control themselves. Once they literally woke up to a Santa Claus singing Jingle Bells in the tub in the middle of June because Tony missed Christmas.

Of course, Stark would never slip up the night before Pepper was coming back to town, but, apparently, she didn’t stay with her mom for as long as she planned, and Tony was royally fucked.

“I’ve asked you a question.”

And now Bucky was, too, if he didn’t think of something quick. Of course, he could tell her the truth, but it meant losing Tony completely, and Barnes didn’t want that. A real mafioso should have at least one strong enemy, right?

“I’m sorry, Pepper, but I don’t think there were any hookers here last night.” He said, carefully choosing words. “You see, first, Tony never allows us to. Second, we’re good Christians. We would never invite some hookers when we celebrated the birth of Clint’s daughter!”

As he got silent, enjoying the effect his words were having on Pepper, Bucky looked at the man sitting to his right, watching Tony’s eyes watering: it was definitely God himself who sent Barnes his way that morning, saving his from near death. Nothing would work better than this excuse. Clint and all Bucky’s guys were so drunk to the point they barely remembered what had happened, and it would be easy to convince them Tony and his gang came to see Barnes for something and ended up staying with all of them.

Besides, there was a nice bonus Bucky could add to make it work even better.

“By the way, Clint named her Natasha. That’s also the name of your mom, right?”

By the look on Tony’s face the man realized he was ready to sing.

“How did he know my mom’s name?” Pepper eyed Steve’s right hand distrustfully, but he could tell she was less irritated.

“Oh, you know, he and his wife couldn’t choose the name, so we started saying whatever names we knew, and Tony mentioned Natasha.”

For a second Bucky thought Stark was going to kiss him through excess of joy.

When he finally left the motel, getting his pack of beer given him by lovely Pepper who changed the anger to mercy, Tony ran out of the house after him, giving him a pat on the shoulder and whispering quietly, “I own you one, brother.”

Bucky sighed. Stark didn’t take the money.

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne​​ @alexakeyloveloki​​ @helenaeisenhower​​ @villanellevi​​ @hurricanerin​​ @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysbunny​ @soleil-dor​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @dillybuggg​ @literate-lamb​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @jaysayey​ @megzdoodle​ @gotnofucks​ @lux-ravenwolf​ @iheartsebandchris​ @ximebebx​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @sourpatchspinster​

[excelsi-or]

your type (pt. 8)

w.c. 3.3k (yeah it’s a long one. sorry! :D)

pairing: jihoon x OC/reader

pt. 1; pt. 2; pt. 3; pt. 4; pt. 5; pt. 6; pt. 7

Jihoon loses track of time and only realizes the hour when she’s knocking on the door. Over his shoulder, he finds her standing in the doorway. She’s dressed in a white maxi dress, which she hadn’t been wearing when they’d talked earlier. He would never say it about anyone else, or out loud, but she looks like an angel.

Her hair is a little crimped from having it up, but she’s clearly run her hand through it, because it’s flipped in that way he likes. Her face is flushed from walking across campus to meet him.

She laughs. “You’re staring.”

Jihoon shakes his head and waves her inside. “Are you ready?”

She drops her bag on the couch and practically collapses into the spare chair. She sighs in relief.

“Been on your feet all day?” She’s complained about how the bench tops are too high for her to sit comfortably and work.

“Just a lot of walking back and forth.” She waves her hand dismissively. “But I’m here to listen to your music.”

Jihoon passes her the headphones as she settles back in the seat. Her eyes fall closed and Jihoon plays her the first song. As she’s here for critiquing purposes, she says what she’s thinking aloud and Jihoon notes it all down.

She finds herself swaying to a lot of the music and Jihoon finds himself enjoying watching her. The studio can get pretty dull for other people. The grey of the soundboards, the computer screens, the large speakers, and the black couch. It’s all pretty monochromatic, and she stands out in her white dress. As an observer of people, particularly women, Jihoon can’t help but notice.

“Last one’s a little romantic, don’t you think?” She drops the headphones around her neck.

“The topic was supposed to be about love. I can’t remember the actual prompt.” He begins shutting down the computer. “Should we go for dinner?”

She turns to look at him, the back of her head never leaving the head rest. “I’m so sleepy. Do we have to go out?”

Jihoon tilts his head. “The boys are having dinner at my place if you don’t mind seeing them.”

She closes her eyes. “Have you told them about our arrangement already?”

“That you agreed to date me?” he chuckles.

“Test it out,” she emphasizes.

Even though her eyes are still closed, he can’t help but smirk. “No.”

“So, it would be really weird if I came over without my friends.”

“No.”

This makes her laugh and her eyes open again. He can see how tired she is. “Yeah. Right.”

“They’ll only be annoying for a little while,” he promises.

“Is that better than going out?” She rests her cheek in her palm. “I don’t know.”

“You have until we get out of the building to decide.”

She sighs and pushes herself to standing. She stretches her arms over her head and then bends over to touch her toes. They both hear the crack of her spine. “I’m broken.”

Jihoon laughs as she straightens again. “You’re tired and need to rest.”

“Maybe it’s better to eat in.”

Jihoon quickly messages the group chat as she slings her backpack on. The onslaught of responses at varying degrees of excitement sets his phone off. He doesn’t bother to read them.

On the walk back to his apartment, Jihoon is highly aware of her knuckles brushing against his. The boundaries are blurred for him, and he’s unsure if she’ll react poorly to him holding her hand.

“Commit to it. My god.” She slips her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. He can feel the calluses on her palm. They must be from the gym and bouldering, some interests that she’s mentioned in passing. When she starts swinging their hands back and forth, he wonders if she even notices.

“Can I ask you something?”

“If it has to do with my ex,” she sighs, “then you know my answer already.”

“No, something else.”

She glances over at him. “Shoot.”

“What’s something that you wish your previous boyfriends had done?”

She tilts her head. Her lips purse in that cute way of hers when she’s thinking. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one. I don’t know.”

“Really?” Jihoon tugs her hand to pull her closer to him. “Girls usually have an answer for that one.” After a stranger walks past, she puts a bit more distance between them again.

Lifting her eyebrows, she asks, “Like what?”

“Usually something either sexual or romantic.” He shrugs. “It usually insinuates that they want me to do it ASAP.”

She laughs. “You have a lot of moves. What’s one that always works for you?”

Jihoon pretends as if he needs to think about it before tugging her towards him, his forehead leaning down to touch hers. “This tends to work,” he whispers, “better when I can kiss you.”

She grins up at him and his stomach drops. “Guess your moves aren’t 100% fool proof,” she whispers back. She pulls away first, leading the way to his place.

Jihoon doesn’t mind letting her lead. Chuckling, he says, “I’ll find a move that works on you. But that one usually gets girls pretty good.”

“I can see how it would work,” she glances back at him, “proximity.”

He gives a small pull on her hand and she’s back at his side. “What’s a move that you used to do that always worked?”

“I didn’t really have any moves.”

“Can we please stop pretending like Sejeong didn’t tell everyone that you were once the ace of the dating game?” Jihoon squeezes her hand. “Come on. I won’t be offended that you’ve used the moves on other men before.”

She rolls her eyes. Exasperation looks good on her. Exasperation with him is even better.

“I’m asking as your potential boyfriend. What’s a move I gotta watch out for?”

“That’s gonna make you fall for me?” she laughs. She slows and looks both ways. Nobody else is around in this back alley, so she stops and turns to face him. He indulges her and does the same, eyebrows raised as he waits.

She runs her tongue along her teeth, debating if this is worth it. Then she steps towards him. Her fingertips trail up his arm and she gazes up at him, batting eyelashes that he hadn’t noticed until this very movement. Jihoon can feel her moving closer, her body flush against his. He already has a hand on her waist.

Lightly, she pokes his Adam’s apple, pulling him back to the present. Her cheeky smile eases the flush in his face. “There’s usually a kiss involved, but not today.” Then she steps away from him, taking her warmth with her.

Jihoon swallows hard. “That…” He clears his throat. “That one works.”

Naturally, their hands intertwine again, and they continue to the end of the alley, Jihoon’s apartment at the corner. “It was pretty effective to get us into the bedroom or out of a bad date.”

“Those are two very different scenarios.”

“It’s like… a stun gun. Gives me a few seconds to escape or take over.”

As soon as they enter Jihoon’s apartment, he enters first and makes a point of glaring at everyone to shut up and not make a big deal about it.

Once inside, she slips out of her shoes and laughs when Soonyoung takes her backpack from her.

“Do you want more water, noona?” Seungkwan asks.

“Yes, please.”

Soonyoung passes her water bottle over.

Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “Don’t go through her bag.”

Jihoon lets go of her hand, so she can wander into the living room. He joins a few of them in the kitchen. He can hear Hansol and Seokmin greeting her.

“So? How did it go?” Mingyu asks from the stove.

Jihoon shrugs, accepting the Coke can that Seungcheol hands him before grabbing another one to take to Hansol. “We’re testing it out.”

“That is the best news I’ve heard in the last 4 and a half months,” Seungcheol says as he returns to the living room.

They feed her and they pepper her with questions. All the boys are under strict instruction not to say anything about her and Jihoon’s almost-but-not-quite relationship. She sits between his legs after dinner as they chat. Jihoon’s hands laze around her shoulders, his thumbs resting on the sides of her neck. He gently massages the tendons in the back of her neck.

Talks about future dates and women fly around the room, as the boys update each other on the various people they’re seeing. Jihoon can actually feel her head going limp in his hands as she dozes off.

He leans forward and whispers in her ear. “Do you want to nap in my room for a while?”

She tips her head back, resting her head in his forearms. “You won’t take advantage of the fact that I’m in your bed?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Her struggle to keep her eyes open endears him.

“Then yes, I want to nap in your room.

Jihoon nods. He steals a quick kiss on her forehead and her eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t protest. Helping her to her feet, he leads her to his bedroom.

It’s her first time in his room and she stands in the doorway trying to process everything in her foggy brain.

Her eyes land on his dark grey sheets. “Should I be concerned that your sheets are dirty?”

“From what?” Jihoon knows where her mind’s gone. “I wash my sheets every time a girl leaves in the morning. And Jiwoo and I were in the living room anyway.”

She’d already flopped onto his bed when he said he washed them every time a girl left. Jihoon watches her stretch, her back arching before curling around a pillow. She falls asleep almost immediately. He finds a light blanket in the hallway closet and rests it over her legs that have become exposed from the slit in her dress. Jihoon leaves the door ajar and rejoins the others in the living room.

“Wow, we thought you were already going in with all of us here,” Minghao snorts.

Chan pulls a face. “God. Please don’t ever do that.”

“That’s only happened once and it was Cheol,” Jihoon snorts. He collapses back onto the couch. “She’s been in the lab all day, so she’s wiped.”

There’s a beat of silence before Jun laughs. “Mingyu wasn’t kidding.”

“What?”

“You actually like her,” Seokmin says. “Hyung, never thought we’d see the day.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes.

“Come on. We saw your face,” Seungkwan teases. “We might actually win this bet if you fall in love with her first.”

Jihoon shakes his head. “No way. I think after today I actually have a decent chance of winning.”

She wiggles around, stretching all her limbs. She tips her head back, looking out the window behind her. The sky is indigo, fire red at the horizon line as the sun disappears. She realizes that she hadn’t even laid down on the bed properly, dozing off horizontally across it instead. When she looks to her right at the wall across from the bed, she stares at her reflection. There’s a mirror on the wall, easily reflecting the pillows and anyone entangled in the sheets.

She can’t help but snort at that decoration. In the dark, she glances around Jihoon’s room. It’s pretty bare of any personality. Besides the mirror, there’s nothing up on the walls. The bedside tables have nothing on them except for a notebook and pen on the right table.

With the blanket around her shoulders, she steps out of the room. It takes her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light, but she can hear the boys talking. When they catch sight of her, Hansol’s face breaks out into a smile.

“Noona! You’re awake!”

Immediately, the volume picks up.

“Were you guys being quiet for me?” she asks when Seungkwan pulls her onto the smaller couch between him and Wonwoo.

“Hyung kept saying you were tired and that we needed to shut up,” Chan informs her.

She glances at Jihoon, but he’s on his phone. “I should really be getting home.”

“You just woke up, noona!” Seokmin exclaims. “Play some games first!”

Wonwoo catches her eye and nods.

“Okay,” she leans forward on her elbows, “what are we playing?”

It’s a lot later than she was anticipating when the boys start to knock out. She glances at the clock for the third time in ten minutes. She’s already texted Jihyo that she’s at Jihoon’s place. She has ignored all subsequent messages from her roommate.

“You wanna head home?” Jihoon was apparently watching her.

“You fine to walk me home?”

Jihoon nods. “Come on.” He helps her move out from under Soonyoung’s head and replaces her legs with a pillow. She passes him the blanket, which he takes back to his room. He reemerges with a hoodie on.

“Are you going to be cold?”

“I—” Before she can affirm or deny, Jihoon puts a cardigan of his around her shoulders.

“You can just give it back tomorrow.”

“It’s the weekend; I’m not going to campus tomorrow.”

“I know.” Jihoon opens the door.

She gives him a little nudge. When she’s about to pick up her backpack, Jihoon slings it over his shoulder first. “Someone’s going a little overboard.”

“Well, do you want to carry it?”

“Not if you’re offering,” she laughs.

Jihoon closes the door behind him and finds her hand easily. He watches her yawn and can’t help but smile a little.

They’re quiet for most of the walk. The streets are also quieting with the late hour, restaurants closing down for the night, couples and friends heading home. She watches everyone around her, and Jihoon wonders what she sees.

“Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?” Jihoon asks.

She shrugs. “Probably not.”

“Do you wanna go for a walk then?” He knows there’s a park near her place. When he gauges her expression, he adds, “It’s well lit.”

Smirking, she nods. “Yeah, okay. As long as you don’t mind getting home late.”

They turn down a different street and she can see the park at the end, just before the road curves left.

“What were you guys talking about?”

“When you got up?” The boys had been in deep conversation about something, their heads leaned together, talking in hurried low voices. “Seungcheol and Jihyo.”

“Ah.”

“Do you think Jihyo’s settling?”

“For Seungcheol?” She looks to Jihoon. “Do you guys think Cheol’s settling?”

Jihoon hums.

“I think we’re both too loyal to say yes or no,” she muses.

“I guess you’re right. Well, that’s what we were talking about.”

She mulls this over, but decides to change the subject.

“How did you guys meet?”

“Who? Cheol and me?”

She nods.

“We were sleeping with the same girl,” Jihoon says simply.

Her laugh is genuine. “You’re serious.”

He smiles. “Yeah. I’m serious. She’d double booked us without realizing. I knocked at her door and she sent Cheol because she thought it was their food.”

“Did you stop seeing her?”

“I didn’t. Cheol did. He’s all for sleeping around, but apparently he felt like it was some slap in the face that she got our dates mixed up.” Jihoon adjusts the backpack on his shoulder. “We wound up in the same music theory class that semester. I needed a roommate, and he was the only person I knew in the class.”

According to her, she and Jihyo had met in a second-year biology lab. Jihyo needed a new roommate because her old one was moving out to move in with her boyfriend.

“Jihyo’s actually the one who introduced Jungkook and me.” She sees a set of swings and leads him over to it. She begins pumping her legs and Jihoon watches her swing higher.

“You must really care about him if you’re still friends.”

“Jungkook was good to me, and he was still exploring his sexuality at the time. I told him that he was free to do so, but not with me as his girlfriend. So, we ended things. It took us a while, but we’re good now.” She soars up into the air. “And I like Taehyung.”

The skirt of her dress splits from the slit in it and Jihoon admires the muscle in her legs. It’s not typically something he notices about a girl. But then again, he doesn’t tend to have such a drawn out period of time between finding a girl attractive and having her in his bed.

“You seem like a good judge of character. Jungkook has a good reputation.”

She hears the underlying taunt. Jihoon’s reputation is less than remarkable. “I used to think so; my friends still think so. But Byunggu made me question my abilities.”

“Sometimes people are good at disguising their intentions,” Jihoon calls up to her.

“Yeah.” She swings back high. “He fooled me.”

This is the most she’s ever said about Byunggu. It’s the first time she’s ever said his name.

The late night seems to be loosening her tongue. “We met at a party and he was just a different person under the influence. Made it easy to hide.” She stops pumping her legs and lets the momentum slow.

“So, when he asked you…”

“Well, I thought my judge of character was still good then. I said yes.”

“And?”

She looks down at him, her dark hair frames her face. She’s up in the sky, so he almost misses what she says. “God, I fell so hard for him.”

Jihoon feels his chest clench at the words. He twists in the swing, spinning rather than swinging. He stops when her sneakers drag through the gravel.

“But knowing his type better has made me wary about dating people. On campus especially.”

“Yes, you made it hard to learn anything.”

She lifts an eyebrow. The sound of the chains is grating as she turns to face him. “You background checking me?”

“You background checked me, didn’t you?”

“Not intentionally.”

Jihoon moves his swing closer. “I’m assuming that people have intentionally said awful things about me.”

She nods. “They have.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

Her eyes narrow, but he can see something akin to a twinkle in them. “Don’t ruin it.”

Jihoon thinks she’ll let him kiss her, but he has to know one thing. “How do you know I won’t hurt you like Byunggu?”

Her exhale is long. “I don’t.”

“But…?”

“I have no buts here,” she murmurs. Her eyes flick back and forth, studying his face. He can tell she’s thinking a million things at once, but she doesn’t share any of them. “You either prove me wrong, or you’re exactly what everyone said you were.”

Jihoon can feel her breath on his skin. She smells like a mix of the summer air and clean laundry. “It’s after midnight.”

“I know,” she responds, clearly caught off guard by his mentioning of the time. “It’s 3.”

“You said you wouldn’t let me kiss you yesterday.”

Realization dawns on her, but she says nothing and doesn’t move towards him.

He plays it safe and catches her cheek with his lips. When she still doesn’t move, he brushes her nose with his and can feel the warmth of her lips on his. He closes the distance and she doesn’t react right away. Jihoon has time to cup her face and adjust his angle before she kisses him back.

Her kiss is gentle and Jihoon’s worried that if he’s too forceful, she’ll stop. So, he lets her lead, and he lets her pull away first.

“Do you always blush when you kiss someone?” she asks.

He doesn’t respond. Jihoon admits only to himself that no one’s every kissed him like that before.

[snapplejaxs]

Locked The Door Behind Him

Dean Winchester x reader  SUMMARY: Dean accidentally wakes the reader, trying to sneak out of her apartment. smut, fluff // 3k wc. 

*a/n - (y/f/n) = your friend’s name 

♡︎  •  ♡︎  •  ♡︎  •  ♡︎   •  ♡︎

The loud sound of Bucky's picture frame hitting the wooden floor shakes you out of sleep. You open your eyes to a dark apartment and a dim light reflecting from the half pulled curtains. You blink, trying to adjust to the sudden awaking, but your eyes are heavy and your thoughts are confusing. You give in to the drowsy and shut your eyes. You didn’t need to get up and investigate the noise. You can recognize that sound in your sleep. Literally. You know it's that old photo of your departed dog because it's always falling off your nightstand. You keep making a mental note to upgrade the frame to something new and sturdy but it seems like the least important thing to do during your busy day. But tonight, the damn thing sounds like an old civil war cannon it's so loud.

“Shit.” You hear Dean whisper to himself.

Your consciousness returns. Along with a shudder up your spine. You lay perfectly still and keep your eyes closed. You can't see him, not in the dark anyway, but you know he's looking at you. The room got dead silent when Buck's frame fell. You imagine him pausing in one spot, watching you to see if you move. It's what you would do if you were in his position of trying to sneak out of some stranger's apartment at 4am after a bar hookup.

When you don’t respond to the loud slam, Dean continues dressing. You hear the quiet sound of denim sliding over skin. You picture him balancing on one of his, surprisingly smooth and hairless, legs while trying to get his jeans on as silent as possible.

God, this is not how one night stands are supposed to go. You were meant to thank him for the great time, made sure he got in his car safely, lock up your apartment, and then go to sleep. Not fall unconscious next to some man you don’t know. Sure, you might have just fucked him but that doesn't mean you know him.

What if he's stealing your expensive jewelry? Or digging around in your drawers for panties to take home because he's some weirdo, like that guy from that episode of SVU you saw the other night. That woman got murdered by her hookup. Maybe you should get up. Dean could be in your kitchen looking for the biggest knife right now.

Peeking an eye open, you look and see Dean’s silhouette thrashing around inside his t-shirt looking for armholes. There's no knife or panties in his hand. You feel a little better at that. You open both your eyes to try and see better in the dark light. But still, you barely see him.

Your apartment got pretty dark at night. And you made sure you turn off all the lights before you left to meet up with (y/f/n) to go drinking. You didn't plan on tonight going the way it did, bringing a man back to your place and all. You just wanted to put on a little tight dress and enjoy your weekend off with your best friend.

But then you saw Dean.

Or more like, Dean saw you. You and (y/f/n) were on stage, in the middle of tipsy karaoke when they started poking at your ribs and signaling at the bar. You looked over and saw Dean. Turned around in his chair, eyes glued to yours, and nursing a bottle of beer. He stared at you like you were a Super Bowl game. Like if he turned away for just a second, he’d miss something he didn’t want to miss.

When he brought his beer down from his mouth, he gave you a toothless smile and a wink. Ho-lee-fuck was it the hottest wink you have ever seen. He never took his eyes off you as you stood on stage singing off-key. He licked his lips while looking straight at you. He made you feel nervous. An entire room full of people and just one person made you feel nervous.

When the song ended, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. Of course, (y/f/n) whispered nothing but the dirtiest advice in your ear. 

'You’re a single and sexy adult.'  'You make your own rules.’   'It's been months, and you need to get back out there.'

And then there was the one that sold you.

‘It’s just one night.’

You bought all the naughty advice from your friend. Took a shot for good luck, And approached the winking stranger. You thought he was sexy from across the bar with stage lights burning in your eyes, but nothing compared to when you stood face to perfect face with him. He had gorgeous green eyes, flawless freckly skin, and a flirty smile. He introduced himself in a gravelly old movie narrator voice.

"Dean."

You couldn’t believe he was an actual person speaking to you in a small town bar and not some actor on TV. Dean unmistakably had a face for the cameras. But he told you he worked a regular nine to five and was just in town on business.

(y/f/n) made an excuse to leave and you stayed behind for a few drinks with Dean. The two of you drank and flirted for about an hour, before talking turned into a public makeout session in a secluded booth near the bathroom. There was some under the table leg touching and lots of tongues. Things got so heated that the bartender had to hit the table and tell the two of you to, 'take it to Motel-6.'

Not ready to say goodnight, you boldly suggested an after party back at your place. And Dean wasted no time. He grabbed your hand and dragged you to his car.

The kissing only intensified when the two of you were alone. His hands massaged at your knee. Then crept up to squeeze at your thigh. When you felt his hand crawl up your leg even further, you didn't argue. Instead, you found yourself spreading your legs to welcome him under your dress. He rubbed the outside of your panties until you were damp and swollen. It felt damn good. But you needed more than his soft little circles. His hand went lower, sliding over your clothed opening. You moaned into his mouth, and wrapped your hand around his neck, stroking his soft hair. His finger slipped inside your panties. You gasped and broke the kiss.

"Dean, my place." You remind him.

He nodded. "Which way?"

"S-swain." His finger roamed up and down your swollen lips. "Take Swain un-, until Courtland Ave." You reached down and guided his finger inside of you. You felt his thick fingers stretch you. "Just don't stop."

Dean started his car. A loud rumble came to life. His headlights lit up the parking lot. It excited you. Hearing his car, seeing the lights, it all made you realize how real it was. You were really leaving a bar with a man who didn't even know your last name. He knew nothing about your job, your family, your breakup a few months ago - nothing. And yet, he was knuckle deep inside of you.

You heard the wet sounds as he slid them out and rubbed your wetness all around you. He teased at your clit with his slow circles and then sped up his movements. After a few minutes of his little pattern, he dipped back into you again. You purposely clenched down on him. Dean curled his finger and went faster.

"Shit." You threw your head back against his seat and cried out. "Fuck." You held his wrist. You could have cared less about keeping quiet or cool, your body was on fire. You had never done anything like that in your life. You got fingered by a guy after you shakily gave him directions to your apartment. The same apartment you were about to fuck him as soon as you got there. So scandalous and out of character for a working girl like you.

Dean suddenly stopped his thrusting. You felt his hands pull away from you and it made your eyes open. You look around confused about why he stopped. You were so close.

"Is this it?" Dean asked nodding towards your building.

"Yes." You panted. "You can park here. It's fine." It was your turn to grab and pull. You yanked Dean out of his car, into your building, through the elevator, and into your apartment - kissing and grinding the whole way through.

The thought of fucking a stranger made you so eager to hop in bed that the lights were the last thing on your mind. No, 'take your shoes off' or 'get comfortable.' You kept everything the way it was as the two of you tangled each other and raced to get undressed while walking towards your bed.

You kicked off your pumps and slid your drenched panties down to toss away in the darkness and sat on your bed to watch Dean's shadow outline drop his pants and boxers. You had no idea what to do next.

"I've never done this before." You confessed. There was a small pause.

"I know." He snorts. "Do you want to stop?"

"No."

Dean stepped back to roll on a condom. You didn't even notice he had one in his hand or saw where it came from. This might have been your first one night stand, but something told you he knew his way around these pretty well. You laid back and let him take the lead. And he did.

Once he was secured, Dean hovered above you. He dipped down and placed a single kiss on your lips. Re-positioned himself. Then kissed you again as he slowly pressed himself down on top of you. He balanced on his elbows and deepened the kiss with a lip bite. You invited him in. His tongue was warm and active. He rolled himself into you, his tip hitting you just right as his mouth explored yours.

He slowly slid himself inside, inch by thick inch. He was big, and your body knew it. There was some natural resistance. Dean brought a hand down to massage you, his way of saying 'relax' without speaking words. Dean kept massaging until he was able to keep pushing through. It was a painful stretch, but at the same time felt good. Feelings you haven't felt in months.

Once he was fully in, he pulled away from you to breathe. “You okay?” He whispered. His voice was close. You liked that he was so close, it sent shivers down your spine.

You responded with a nod, then remembered he couldn’t see you in the dark, so you hummed out, “mmhm.”

Without another word, Dean reattached his lips to yours to continue where he stopped. His hands floated up and down at your sides, then rested at your waist to hold. He pulled out almost entirely, only to slide himself back in with more ease. You whined into his mouth. You wanted to scream, but he wouldn't let go of your lips. He felt good sliding in and out of you. He was hard and warm.

Dean continued rocking, nice and slow. His hands left your hips and found yours in the dark. He laced his fingers into yours and held them as he kissed you. You wanted to feel more. You wrapped your legs around the middle of his waist and pressed him in even further. Trying to give him the hint.

Dean pulled his knees up and picked up his movement by only a little. He slid your hands up as far above your head as they could go and you used the opportunity to lift your hips to push yourself against him.

"More," you spoke against his lips. "Please. More."

Dean let go of your hands and wrapped around your lifted waist and hosted you up with him as he sat on his knees. You gripped his shoulders and threw your head back to cry at the ceiling. He felt so much deeper in you. Dean attached his lips to your exposed neck. He wrapped an arm around your bare waist and pulled you close. You placed your legs to his sides and straddled him, starting your own rhythm as you rode him.

Dean separated from your neck and hissed into the darkness. You wrapped a hand around his neck and squeezed, choking him. He cursed in the darkness and you felt his arms hug you tighter, he liked what he was feeling. You rode faster. He felt so good. Each stroke made you crave for the next, deeper and harder.

The room filled with your in-sync heavy breathing and moans. You dropped your head down, in an attempt to look at him in the dark, but met his lips. You let go of his neck and dug your nails into his back, scratching and pinching. He grunted inside your mouth.

You smelt the cologne melt off his sweaty body that rubbed against your layer of sweat. You were high off of him. Your clit rubbed up against him in just the right way. You could feel your body building an orgasm from deep within you, and slowly rising up. You pushed away from Dean.

"A..ah...aah..." You sing into the air. "Dean," you squealed out at the intensity of your orgasm traveling throughout your body. You fell limp on his shoulder and let heat and pleasure overcome you. “Holy fuck.” Escaped your lips in a whisper as ecstasy ripped through you in waves. Dean pecked kisses at your shoulder.

After your twitching stopped, Dean carefully lowered you down on your back and planted himself back on top of you. He kissed your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, and moved down to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Hmm." You arched up. He sucked and nibbled, starting a slow thrusting pace. He pulled off one nipple and moved to kiss and suck the other. His hand rested on your waist and held you gently as he started speeding up. You hugged his sweaty back, lazy running your fingers through his hair as he chased his own release.

"Dean." You turned your head towards him and his lips collided with your swollen lips, that he loved to kiss so much.

Dean's hips stilled. He drew his lips away and let out a shaky breath. He buried his head on your shoulder as he jolted, and bucked into you. No words came from his mouth but breathless grunts, whipped against your neck, before a sigh of relief.

He came.

He kisses your shoulder once more. You feel a wet residue as he lifts his head to find your lips. Dean kissed you a lot. You didn't expect that from him.

You weren't expecting some rough hookup, but you weren’t expecting him to be so tender either. He was a tall guy with a deep manly voice. So where did the vanilla come from? Dean didn’t fuck you like you were the chick at the bar he just winked at and fingered in the car. His touches were soft, his kisses were sweet. He even held your hand at one point. Was it you? Did you put out the vanilla vibe? Not that it bothered you. You weren’t complaining because it was still good sex. Amazing sex.

Even after he finished in his condom, he kept a slow pace of thrusting. Like he couldn't get enough of you. It made you feel good. Not just physically but mentally and emotionally good. You’ve been in actual relationships with men and no one fucked you like Dean Winchester.

When he finally stopped shuddering, he rolled off of you. Not far. You felt his hot arm next to yours. Still physically touching you.

It was silent. But a good silent. A bittersweet silent. A silent you were gonna miss when Dean was gone. And the silent is still there. And more lonely.

"You sure you've never done this before?" Dean laughed in the dark.

"Haha." You chuckled. "I'm sure." You could have attempted to joke back to him, but you didn't want to hear whatever he had to say in return. You knew this wasn't his first time. Not with the way he acted. Dean was too comfortable with a stranger's body. He came prepared for it. There had to be other girls. You weren't his first and you aren't gonna be his last. As soon as he leaves here. He'll be in another town. At another bar. Winking at another girl. And you'll still be here. In the silent.

Your stomach started to hurt. But you're 99% sure it's from the stretching Dean gave you. You rolled over to the side, looking for some type of relief. your arm stopped touching Dean's. he said nothing. made no attempt to get up and leave. He just laid there. the two of you did. That must have been when you fell asleep.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. But obviously, you did. Because here you lay now. Pretending to be asleep while watching Dean tiptoes around your studio in the dark, holding his breath, and collecting his clothes one after the other like an arcade game. It’s late. Maybe you should just tell him to stay for the night? Would he if you asked?

Abruptly his cell phone starts ringing.

You slam your eyes close when you hear Dean’s feet patting across the floor. His ringer shuts off and the room instantly falls quiet. You don’t have to see to know Dean is, once again, stuck in place and staring at you for any type of movement.

With your eyes still closed, you reposition yourself and tuck further into your blanket with a sleepy sigh into your pillow. Just to sprinkle a little Meryl Streep into your fake sleep performance. He must buy your act because you hear the wooden floor creak as he starts to walk again.

You peek an eye open to see where he is. You catch Dean slowly pulling the front door open with one hand and holding his heavy boots in the other. He slides out of your apartment, reaching around the door to lock it behind him, before closing it little by little. He was gone just like that. Your apartment falls silent.

_________________________

Likes, re-blogs, and feedback are encouraged.  Plagiarism is not. Please don’t. ♡ 

[omgjasminesimone]

Conception (Kinktober Day 8)

Bryce x MC

Prompt: Breeding

Word Count: 1,500

NSFW

A/N: I wanted to get in on this whole @choicesficwriterscreations​ Kinktober thing. Follows this ficlet, and sequel here

Casey returns home to an unusually quiet condo. She drops her keys into the bowl by the door, making her way further into the space. “Babe?” She calls out, wondering if maybe Bryce got called in to work.

She makes her way to their bedroom, freezing and then bursting into laughter when she spots Bryce from the doorframe.

He grins, allowing the rose that had been between his teeth to fall to the floor. The floor, and the bed, are covered in scattered rose petals. The room is illuminated by candles Bryce must have gone out to buy, because there’s no way they had that many tea candles in the house. He’s in black silk boxer briefs she’s never seen before, casually lounging with his muscular arms spread on top of their headboard. He looks incredible. But, not incredible enough to distract her from the ridiculousness of the situation. “You don’t waste any time, do you?” She quips, setting her purse down on their dresser. She literally just left the gynecologist after having her IUD removed.

Bryce’s grin widens. “Nope. Prepare to be impregnated.”

Casey chuckles, shaking her head fondly. “You know it usually takes like 6 months to conceive don’t you?”

“Sure, for most people. But I assume my sperm are as competitive as I am. With that pesky IUD out of the way, one of them is definitely going to fertilize an egg tonight. Hell, we might even make fraternal multiples.”

“God, how are you even cocky about your sperm?” Casey playfully complains, shrugging out of her jacket and dropping it over a chair.

“Because I’m sure this is prime stuff. Why don’t you come over here, and then I’ll show you baby?” Bryce suggests.

“I’m gonna take a shower first.” Casey decides, grabbing something out of their closet before making her way to the bathroom.

“But, I’ve already been waiting here for like an hour!” Bryce complains.

“Patience is a virtue!” Casey tosses over her shoulder before she closes the bathroom door.

...

The shower stopped running several minutes ago, but Casey still hadn’t exited their master bathroom.

To pass the time, Bryce has curated a brand new sex playlist. Less Marvin Gaye this time, since Casey burst into laughter last time when ‘Let’s Get It On’ suddenly blared from his Bluetooth speaker. Bryce presses play, and soft jazz music fills the room.

Now with nothing left to fiddle with, he’s getting antsy again. “Case, you need any help in there?” He calls out, receiving no response. He’s about to call out again when the door finally opens.

“Damn, Casey.” Bryce mutters appreciatively, eyes greedily scanning over all that pretty bronzed skin.

She’s wearing the lingerie from their wedding night. White, lacy, tiny, and complete with those super sexy garter belt thigh highs. Bryce feels like a newlywed all over again.

Casey smiles demurely, shrugging. “Since it’s a special occasion.”

Bryce smiles, scooting so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. “God, you’re so beautiful.” He holds out his hand for her.

She takes his hand, letting him pull her into his lap so she’s straddling him. His hands cup her face, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. “I love you.” He promises when he breaks from her lips awhile later, reaching back to unclasp her bra.

She lets the garment fall to the floor before she drapes her arms over his shoulders. “I love you too.” She assures, leaning forward to kiss him again as he lies down, letting her rest on top of him.

Eventually, he rolls them over so he’s on top, placing slow, deliberate kisses down her body. Casey can’t help but let out a low moan when Bryce takes an already hard nipple into his mouth, playfully flicking with his tongue. His hand comes up to cup the other breast, giving her a not so gentle squeeze that has her squirming beneath him, feeling her panties dampen.

Bryce’s mouth releases her nipple, placing a soft kiss to her dark areola. “How long do you think we should breastfeed our baby?” He murmurs, looking up at her.

“I don’t know. Can’t say it’s something I’ve given much thought to, since I’m not even pregnant.” Casey reminds him.

He moves his attention to her neck, sucking just hard enough to not leave a hickey since he knows she hates having to cover those up when he gets carried away. “You will be.” He promises, walking his fingers gently down her body before sliding them into her damp panties. He softly strokes a finger through her. “God you’re so wet. You want me this bad, beautiful?” Bryce teases.

Casey lifts a knee, gently bumping her thigh against his painfully hard erection. “You’re one to talk.” She retorts.

“I always want you. All the time. Forever.” Bryce assures, rolling his hips against her for emphasis.

“Then fuck me.” Casey requests breathily. She doesn’t want anymore foreplay. She needs him inside her. Now.

She doesn’t have to tell Bryce twice. He quickly strips her of her panties, shimmies out of his boxers, and then sinks into her, hard and fast.

Casey gasps, clutching at his muscled back as he stills, waiting for her to adjust. Bryce grips her legs, encouraging her to wrap them around him.

He slowly starts to thrust, gradually increasing his pace as she starts to lift her hips to meet him.

“God, Bryce.” Casey breathes out, eyes sliding shut as she’s overwhelmed by pleasure.

“Look at me.” Bryce demands, meeting her gaze as his thumb aggressively circles her clit as he continues to slam into her.

She can tell he’s close by how his brows furrow, how his strokes become less measured and controlled. “That’s it Bryce.” She pulls him to her for an aggressive kiss. “Put a baby in me.” She whispers in his ear, gently biting down on his earlobe when they break their kiss.

“Fuck, Casey.” Bryce mutters fondly. “You’re incredible.” He can tell she’s close too, since her walls are tightening around him. “Let go for me beautiful, I’ve got you.” He redoubles his thumb’s effort, and Casey comes with a loud cry of his name.

Her orgasm spurs on his own, and he empties himself inside of her. Casey cups his face, pulling him down into another kiss as both their bodies shake in the aftermath. She can feel him filling her, and she feels an unexpected rush of warmth when she allows herself to think maybe there will be a physical embodiment of their love around in ten months.

Bryce breaks the kiss, slowly, and carefully, pulling out of her. Casey can’t help but laugh, and Bryce grins at her. “I don’t want to spill any.” He admits sheepishly.

“Well, I think there’s plenty in there.” Casey assures him, shifting out of the now wet spot on their mattress.

Bryce rolls off her. “Knees up beautiful.” He reminds her.

“There’s no evidence keeping your legs up after sex will increase odds of conception.” Casey replies, but she raises her legs anyway.

“Can’t hurt.” Bryce insists, lying on his side so he can look at her. He gently brushes his thumb over her collarbone, feeling the need to touch her. “Do you feel pregnant?”

Casey laughs. “Is that a serious question?”

Bryce flushes a little, smiling at her sheepishly. “Hey, this is all new to me. I’ve never wanted to impregnate anybody before.”

“I won’t feel pregnant until I get the nausea, breast tenderness, swollen feet, you know, all that fun pregnancy stuff.” Casey retorts.

“I’ll massage your swollen feet.” Bryce immediately offers.

“You better. I also don’t want to hear any complaints about 2 AM craving runs.”

“Never, beautiful.” He promises, leaning over to kiss her once again.

Casey yawns when she breaks the kiss, suddenly tired.

“Do you want a boy, or a girl?” Bryce asks softly, playing with one of her curls.

“I just want a healthy baby.” Casey turns her head to look at him, but stays on her back with her legs up. She reaches out to touch his face gently. “With your cheekbones.” She adds.

Bryce smiles warmly, unable to resist kissing her yet again. “I want a girl, with your hair. And eyes. And smile. Well, basically all you. But yeah, my cheekbones.”

The couple laughs together before falling into a comfortable silence. “Up for another round?” Bryce proposes, kissing the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah, I could go for that.” The words are barely out of Casey’s mouth before Bryce has pulled her on top of him.

“They say we’re more likely to conceive a girl if you’re on top.” Bryce answers her unspoken question.

Casey rolls her eyes, unbelieving that as a doctor he gives any credence to those old wives tales. But then he’s pushing up into her, and soon she’s not thinking about anything besides how good it feels when he empties inside of her once again.

[ororowrites]

By the Open Fire - Yahya x Black Character

I’m getting back into the writing spirit and decided to write a little Christmas one-shot about my latest celebrity crush. Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa and Happy Holidays! 

Warnings: Very, very, light smut, fluffy as hell

Word Count: 2,664

Six months was entirely too long to be away from the love of her life. 

Candace tapped the tip of her pen against the blank page, hoping her writer’s block would magically disappear. Being an actress was so much easier than trying to write a novel. Why didn’t Candace just stick to her day job? Since the pandemic began, she was trying her hand at other talents and writing a novel seemed to be the one wish on her wish list that stood out. On top of Yahya being out of the country filming for most of the year, Candace was in search of a way to fight a depression that was on the brink of flooding her life. Her filming project had come to a halt until 2021 and she was stuck in her Manhattan apartment until it was safe to come out again.

Yahya would be home in a couple of days and Candace was looking forward to his arrival. So many months a part made her heart ache and the heart below her waist. After hundreds of facetime calls, numerous texts a day and a few Zoom sessions that included their shared friends, her man would be there in the flesh. 

“Fuck,” Candace cursed under her breath. The block wasn’t budging, forcing the actress to give up and retreat to the kitchen for wine. Her phone rang, interrupting her attempt to brainstorm for the next chapter in her book. “You always call at the perfect time,” she groaned at her twin sister on the other end of the line. 

“Candy, you can never just say hello like a normal human,” Trinity laughed. “But did mama call you with the latest gossip?” 

“No, but she’s been texting me all damn day. I’ve been busy so I haven’t checked them yet. Wassup,” she pressed, knowing the gossip was most likely church related. Their mother had been an usher at the same church since they were nine. 

“Girl,” Trinity exclaimed, before explaining the recent Chicago gossip. “Mrs. Jackson got caught cheating with James. Someone saw them out at the park together, kissing up on each other and all that.” 

“Ewww, in this panoramic,” Candace gagged. “I’m not shocked though. That old floozy was always flirting with daddy and almost made mama beat her ass one Easter Sunday. Remember that?” 

Trinity cackled, “Boooooy, mama was about to peel that woman’s skin back and break her neck. Ol’ girl was trying it that day and knows she is too old to still be acting like that. But enough about Florence, what have you been up to today? Ain’t your man on his way back to New York?” 

 Candace rolled her eyes because she knew where this conversation was going. Her sister had four children, leaving Candace the only childless sibling left in the pack of five children. 

“He’ll be back in two days and then we’re going to Colorado for Christmas. Since we can’t gather for the holidays, figured we’d go somewhere where we can safely distance ourselves but still get away. You know,” Candace said, swirling the wine around in her glass before taking a sip. 

“Mmmhhhhmmm. You gon’ get knocked up in them mountains,” Trinity added in a serious tone. “You two renting out a cabin or something up there?” 

“Ain’t nobody getting knocked up until she has a ring on her finger. Yes, we’re getting a cabin and just chillin’ out. Yahya has been working and needs a break. I’ve been....lonely.” Candace paced her kitchen, trying to think of an excuse to end this call before her twin irritated her soul. 

“Ya’ll haven’t seen each in months, he’s going to tear--” 

“Trin!” One major difference between the two of them was the lack of filter on Trinity’s part. The woman would say anything in front of anyone. “Look, I need to go straighten up before before Yah gets here. I’ll talk to you later?” 

Trinity sighed loudly on the other end because she knew her sister was rushing her off the call. Not liking people in her relationship business bugged Trinity because she was the nosey twin that wanted to know everything, much like their mother. “Well at least you won’t be needing to replace the batteries in that vibrator any time soon since the real Dr. Manhattan is back in the picture.” Before Candace could reply to the vulgar comment, Trinity squeezed out a quick ‘love you’ before hanging up. 

“Nasty ass,” Candace rolled her eyes and placed the phone back in the pocket of her jeans. 

The next two days were the same song. Candace’s brain did not want to focus on writing, so she eventually gave up and settled on online shopping to ease her frustration. The night her beautiful man was supposed to return, the actress fell asleep on the couch. His flight had been delayed by a couple of hours and he didn’t make it home until 3AM. 

He quietly entered the apartment, knowing Candace could never stay awake past twelve. The 6′3 actor, tip toed across the floor doing his best ballerina impression. Light snores could be heard over the infomercial playing on the television. She looked peaceful, almost child-like curled up on the sofa under her favorite coral throw. Yahya slowly leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Candace’s pouted lips. She stirred slightly, mumbling under her breath and fell back into a slumber. 

“Baby,” he sung into her ear, placing another kiss on her cheek. 

“Hmm.” Candace finally opened her eyes to see her Christmas gift standing right in front of her. Even with blurred vision, the smell of his cologne was a dead giveaway. She screeched and scurried to her feet to throw her arms around Yahya’s neck. Naturally, her legs wrapped around his waist as he rocked them back and forth. “I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too,” he grunted, peppering Candace’s face in kisses. “My baaaaaaby,” Yahya sang as they fell to the sofa in a heap of long limbs. “It smells good in here, what you cook?” 

“Negro, you’re always looking for the food. Ol’ hungry ass,” Candace shook her head and playfully punched her lover’s bicep. “But, I saved you some fried rice and shrimp...homemade because that’s the only dish I’m good at.” 

“Oh, that’s not the only dish you’re good at,” he bit his lip, pulling Candace into a slow, passionate kiss, showing her how much he really missed her. With both of them being in the industry, they understood the heartache that came with being in a relationship and not seeing your significant other for weeks or months at a time. In this case, their time away from each other was extended due to the pandemic. “Mmmmm,” Yahya hummed into Candace’s lips before pulling away. He wanted to save the X-rated loving for their trip when he would have more time to rest and beat the severe jet lag from flying across the world for 12 hours. 

“We should get some food in this belly, babe,” Candace couldn’t contain the big cheesy grin that made her cheeks hurt. 

------- 

Christmas Eve 

Toni Braxton’s sultry voice filled the cabin as Yahya finished pouring the wine for their night cap. They had a busy day on the slopes trying not to kill themselves or break any bones. 

“Baby, where your fine ass at,” Yahya called out, making his way to the living room. The fireplace crackled, sending waves of heat throughout the cabin’s living area. The sun had set, but the mountains were still glowing against the dark sky. Their view was impeccable and the mood was set for a night of bonding and loving. “Candy, don’t make me come get you.” He warned playfully, sitting in front of the fire on their floor palette they had built earlier that night. 

“What was that,” Candace teased, stopping in the doorway getting a front row view of Yahya’s bare upper half. His back muscles bulged as he tended to the fire. 

“You back there sleeping, old lady,” he asked, with his back still turned away from her. 

“No, I was back there wrapping one last gift,” she replied, her voice dropping an octave prompting Yahya to turn around. 

His eyes almost fell out of his head, “Damn girl.” Pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, he moved forward, inspecting the gift that was screaming to be unwrapped. “This all for me?” 

“Every inch of it.” Her words almost came out as a moan. The way this man was eyeing her had moisture pooling between her legs. The fancy lingerie wouldn’t last long at this rate. Words became an afterthought when actions began to do all the talking. All it took was a soul turning kiss to send them both to the floor on their palette in front of the fireplace. Candace couldn’t tell if the fire had her skin tingling or the anticipation of having his hands rubbing over the most sensitive parts of her body. The wine and fruits sitting on the mantle quickly became an afterthought. 

For minutes, they enjoyed exploring each other and parts they hadn’t touched in months. Yahya was nestled between Candace’s thighs, both of them breathless and horny. Candace’s lace get up was quickly removed and thrown to the side. She giggled when his lips grazed her belly button, those giggles soon turning into pants and whispered obscenities. With gentle licks, he coaxed her clit out of its hood.

 Toys were fun but they weren’t the real thing and oh did she miss the real thing. See, the real thing knew exactly how to pull her close to the edge before sending her back. Her man’s skilled tongue sank deeper drawing intricate patterns in her center as she massaged the top of his head with her fingertips. 

Candace’s breath hitched in her throat and her thighs shook awaiting the impending release. “Jesus,” she moaned as her body suddenly felt light and her center thumped. 

“Still as sweet as I remember,” he grinned, kissing Candace’s inner thigh. 

Another track on their Toni Braxton Christmas playlist began to play and Yahya rested his head on Candace’s stomach. Time was precious and Yahya didn’t want to waste an ounce of the rare quiet moment they had. Soon, they’d both be filming again and the world would be back to normal. 

“What’s on your mind, baby,” Candace asked, her heart and breath back to a steady rhythm. 

“I don’t spend enough time with you. At least not lately,” he began. “I knew what I was getting into when we were back in school. Still makes me feel bad though.” 

“Yah, I enjoy all the moments that we do get to spend together. You’ve been working your ass off this year. Yes, I would love more times like this but we should also celebrate all your accomplishments. Because you’re doing the damn thang and I’m so proud of you.” 

“Thank you. You always say the right shit to get me together,” he chuckled. “Sometimes a nigga just be in his feelings and I missed the hell out of you those six months.” 

“Yeah, six months has never gone by that slowly. You should see my credit card statements. I’ve never purchased that many sex toys in my life,” Candace covered her face with her arm. 

“Word? Well.... you won’t be needing those sex toys for awhile.” 

A smirk formed on her lips when she felt him bump against her thigh, “No, no, you just sit back and relax. I got this.” Sitting up, Candace placed a hand on Yahya’s chest, prompting him to switch her spots. 

“You are beautiful,” Yahya’s eyes gleamed. After all these years, he could still make Candace blush like a little school girl. “Don’t hide that smile, girl.” His large hands massaged her thighs as she eased him inside of her. 

They both exhaled, letting Toni Braxton serenade them through the night.

--------- 

Christmas Morning

They had finally made it to bed and got a few hours of sleep before Christmas morning arrived and it was time to get up for their next day of adventures. 

First, they needed to re-fuel their bodies after the festivities that took place the night before in front of the fireplace and in the bedroom. The shower also got some of their loving that morning. Candace could hear Yahya singing his own version of Joy to the World while whipping up his famous oatmeal. That man never knew the words to any song but sung his own words with all the confidence in the world. 

“Yah, do you ever know the words,” Candace questioned, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing a bowl from one of the kitchen shelves. 

“Nope,” he replied in a matter of fact tone. “It’s the Abdul-Mateen version.”

“Uh huh, sure.” 

Over breakfast, they continued joking about Yahya’s talent of making up his own versions of songs. Joy and love was on full display. They had always been the couple to roast each other and the next minute adore each other like the two biggest saps in the world.. Their relationship was built on a strong friendship they developed while they were in film school before reconnecting a few years later. 

They walked a short distance to one of the coffee shops near their cabin to grab hot chocolate. It was a chilly 45 degrees, but to avoid sitting in the shop, they walked back to their rental, taking a scenic route that Yahya suggested. 

“If we get lost or I end up falling off one of these mountains, I hope my family doesn’t kill you,” Candace joked, admiring the beautiful scene before them. 

“Oh, I know where we are. I was out here early yesterday morning trying to find the perfect spot,” Yahya replied. 

“Huh, perfect spot for what?” 

He didn’t answer right away and instead reached for Candace’s hand, stopping her in her tracks. “Something I’ve been wanting to do for awhile.” Placing his cup on one of the rocks, Yahya pulled a box from his pocket and got down on one knee. 

“What...what...” For once, Candace was speechless and caught completely off guard. 

“It’s hard as hell to surprise you and I’ve been trying to think of the perfect time to do this without your nosey ass finding out.” Tears began to flow down Candace’s cheeks. “We’ve been at this for a few years and I’ve had some of my best moments with you by my side. I want to make what we have forever.” He opened the small box to reveal a beautiful emerald cut ring. “Say love... would you marry me?” 

Being the goofball that she was, Candace laughed between her tears “You’re trying to get me pregnant on this trip, aren’t you?” 

“Well that can be arranged if you say yes.” 

“Ye...yes, of course!” Her vision blurred as Yahya slid the rock on her finger and stood to his feet to kiss his future bride. Moments later Yahya’s phone rang with an incoming Facetime call. 

“Hey Trinity, hey moms,” Yahya cheesed, turning his phone to share the screen with Candace. “Looks like you two aren’t getting rid of me anytime soon.” 

“She said yes,” Trinity screamed, jumping up and down with their mother. “Aye, aye, ayyyeeeeee.” 

Still in complete shock and happiness overflowing, Candace shrieked, “Wait, you two knew about this the entire time!” 

“Yep! It’s been burning my ass to keep this secret from you all this time,” Trinity teased, sticking out her tongue. “He took mom with him to ring shop last year and everything.” 

“Welcome to the family, son. Congratulations baby,” Ms. Fredrick sang, clapping for the happy couple on the other end of the call. 

“Now, I hope you two are using protection out there because having a baby before the wedding is-” 

“Trinity,” Candace called out, shaking her head. 

They should have followed Trinity’s advice because approximately two months later..... 

Hope you all enjoyed! This is the first piece I’ve written in a year. I have no idea if I’ m going to continue the stories I began before my hiatus, yet. But, we will explore that in the coming year! Who knows, we may get more Candace and Yahya depending on how hard writer’s block slaps me. May the new year bring you all peace and joy! 

[mmvalentine]

But You pt 5 | Feysand

Modern AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Feyre had meant it when she said that she wanted Rhys to have more friends. She had.

She had meant it when she hoped that he would be able to step outside of himself when he got to college and be as amazing as she knew he could be.

She hadn't expected that by the time they graduated from college, Rhys would be the editor of his school paper, already have been published in two magazines, and be followed around by an ever rotating procession of beautiful people.

In the year that followed Rhys' debut in the world of news, he had been in hot demand. The Amazon piece had gotten him an offer to do a trip to Antarctica, which of course Rhys had jumped at. And while he was there, he met an older journalist who was going to Mongolia and invited him to go with her. Rhys kept in contact with his professor, who helped him organise for his studies to continue remotely, and by the time Rhys came home for graduation, he was the talk of the town.

Sometimes, Feyre was so proud of her best friend that she could have burst.

Sometimes, she felt like Rhys was changing so fast she barely knew who he was anymore.

And then of course there was the matter of that elevator kiss, when they had had too much to drink and Feyre had worn that stupid dress and Rhys had looked at her like... like only Rhys could look at her.

Then before Feyre could figure out what it meant, Rhys was being whisked away on planes and trains and boats. And after years of pushing him into the world, Feyre couldn't ask him to stay.

And now she was here, the late afternoon sun pouring in through the window, packing up her student housing and wondering how they had drifted so far apart.

Az and Cass had left already, had a holiday planned for after graduation and wasted no time with their departure. This left Feyre to finish her packing alone in the empty house, and for someone who had finally finished college, she felt surprisingly flat.

The knock at the door was completely unexpected.

"Rhys?" she said when she opened it.

"Hello Feyre darling," Rhys said. "Let's go somewhere." "What? Where?" "Anywhere," Rhys said. His mouth grinned but something sad tugged at his eyes "I'm packing up my house at the moment." "Can you leave it for now? I'll bring you back, I promise. I just..." He trailed off, and looked away. Feyre took his hand and pulled him into the living room. She sat down on the sofa, and waited for Rhys to sit down next to her.

But he didn't. Instead, dropped to floor in front of her and put his head on her knees.

"What's wrong, Rhys?" she asked him. Her fingers stroked his hair. "What happened?" He shuffled closer to her touch, and spoke to the floor.

"All I want," he said quietly, "is to have you, and just you." "You've got me," Feyre responded. "No," Rhys argued. "I don't. And that's the problem." He sighed, and his breath blew out against her bare shins. Her hands stilled, and he looked up at her.

Rhys' beautiful, pleading eyes stared at her for a good minute while Feyre sat and pursed her lips. Finally, she stood.

"Alright," she said. "Let's go." "Where?" Rhys asked. "Anywhere you want," she said.

In the end, Rhys drove all the way out to the mountains. Drove until it was dark and the Spring had not caught up yet, drove until the city lights dimmed and the stars peeked out and the cold night air sharpened its nails on the craggy hillsides. Then he parked in the middle of nowhere, and they climbed into the tray of his pick-up truck and stared at the sky. Sat there, just breathing, for some time. Feyre waited, and eventually Rhys spoke.

“These past four years, I've tried to let you go. God knows I've tried. I'm moving around and keeping away and trying to give you at least a shot at not being stuck with me all the fucking time. College helped, you know? I have to go to school thirty hours away. I have to travel and hand in work and impress people.

“But the second it was over it was like, why the fuck am I all the way over here when you're not? I came straight down here as soon as I wasn't needed there."

"I'm sure you're always needed," Feyre said. "You've got so many people who love you and look up to you now." "And I hate every, single one of them," Rhys said, his voice straining with emphasis. "I just hate them, I cannot stand one person, I just need everyone to fuck off away from me, and I need you here where I can hold you in my own two hands. Because god I just hate everyone but you."

Feyre was quiet. Listened to Rhys’ angry breaths.

“I know,” she said. The silence yawned.

"Can I stop now, Feyre?" Rhys said, still facing forward. "Stop what?" Feyre asked him. She leaned her head against the cabin of the truck, and watched him. "Stop trying so hard to let you go, when all I want to do is hold on tight until you love me back." Feyre's heart thudded in her chest.

"I never wanted you to let go," she said.

And then Rhys looked at her, and she was surprised to see how much pain was in his eyes.

"But I always want just you," he said. "You'd be stuck with me all the time, like you were all through school. It's so unfair."

Feyre moved then. Climbed into his lap, settled her arms around his neck as his came up automatically around her even as his mouth opened in confusion.

"But I like it when you've got just me," she said. "I keep seeing you with all these other people and you know what?" Rhys' hand came up and massaged the back of her neck. "What?" he asked. "I hate other people." Rhys grinned, his teeth white in the dark. "Now you're talking," he said.

And then she kissed him while the stars watched and the mountains leaned in.

****

Oh oh she is wicked, she is just leaving it there after days of angsty build up! Where is the smut? Where is the fluffy dirty smut that was foretold?

It's coming.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @thalia-2-rose @f-cursebreaker

[cinnonym]

take the day off, get a massage (cause we've got this one all under control)

Written for Day 8 - Winter Solstice of 12 Days of Supercorp @supercorpbb

Read on AO3

***

9:15 am

“Golly, am I looking forward to this day.” Kara yawns and huddles closer against the curve of Lena’s back. Her breath tickles Lena’s neck, warm and comfortable. Lena hums.

“Four.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s the fourth time you’ve said this,” Lena murmurs. “Not that I mind.” She can feel sleep tugging at her eyelids once more and relishes in the thought that she won’t have to fight it. That she can succumb to the weight guiltlessly.

Kara doesn’t reply. She’s probably drifted off again already and will wake in half an hour with the same sentence on her lips once more. Lena smiles a bit about the predictability of it all, before a yawn overcomes her and drags her down with it.

***

9:51 am

“Golly,” Kara says, sleep still blurring her words. “I love this, I really do. What a good idea.”

Lena makes an affirmative sound, somewhere between a sigh and a purr. She hasn’t felt this relaxed in months, maybe even years. The warmth of Kara’s arm around her waist, the cold of Kara’s nose against her neck, what more can a woman ask for?

“I am starting to become a bit hungry though,” comes Kara’s voice from behind, and Lena has to suppress a chuckle as she rolls around to face her girlfriend.

“Of course you are.”

“Hey!” Kara’s eyes were still closed, but they open now, blinking slowly several times until all traces of tiredness have given way to a semi-offended glare. “It’s – “ she pauses and squints at the clock “ – more than two hours after my usual breakfast time. Of course my stomach is demanding attention.”

Lena lets out a laugh. “Demanding, huh? And that although you so dislike to be ordered around.”

Kara’s on her suddenly, pinning her down so quickly that Lena strongly suspects the involvement of superspeed.

“Damn right,” she says in a low voice, letting her gaze wander over Lena menacingly. Unfortunately, the effect is somewhat undermined by Kara’s stomach releasing a protesting grumble just then. Kara blushes, and just like that she rolls off of Lena again.

“Boss said no,” she murmurs, shrugging helplessly.

Lena grins. “Good thing we’ve got all day.”

“Golly, am I looking forward to that.”

***

11:38 am

The phone rings just when Lena is beginning to contemplate a nap. The sun still hasn’t peeked through the clouds once, and so it continues to be exactly the kind of dreary that you could wish for on a day like this. The kind of dreary that practically invites you to sleep.

But the phone is ringing, and that means Lena has to make a decision. She groans as she lifts her head from Kara’s chest to look at her.

“Reject or ignore?”

Kara shrugs. Her fingers are drawing lazy circles on Lena’s back, and she looks about as sleepy as Lena’s felt just a minutes ago.

“Maybe I’ll look who it is and choose then,” Lena decides, reaching for the vibrating device. It’s Jess, and apparently it’s not the first time she’s tried to get through to Lena. They have somehow managed to miss three calls, and if that isn’t proof of a dedicated sex life, then Lena doesn’t know. She chuckles quietly.

“It’s Jess,” she tells Kara, “for the third time.”

“What does she want?”

“I wouldn’t know.” The call stops. A small flutter of worry stirs in Lena’s stomach, even though she doesn’t want to feel it. Doesn’t want to leave the comfortable bubble Kara and she have created for themselves today.

Kara seems to sense where her thoughts are going, because she takes the phone from Lena and puts it on the nightstand again.

“No work,” she says sternly, “no outside world, and no leaving the bed unless it’s for food or bathroom breaks. Those are the rules.”

Lena bites her lip. She swallows the ‘What if’s’ that lie on the tip of her tongue. She banishes the thought of work to the remotest corner of her mind and kisses Kara on her collarbone instead.

“You’re right,” she murmurs, “they’ll get by without me for one day.”

***

2:01 pm

It turns out that Kara is much less relaxed when it’s her phone that’s ringing. Or maybe it’s the amount of calls she gets. But with every time her ringtone sounds out, she gets quieter and quieter, until at one point, she grabs her phone exasperatedly, turns it off, and tosses it into the armchair at the opposite corner of the room.

“One day!” She exclaims. “One day, the darkest day of the year, and a Sunday at that! You’d think the criminals would stay at home voluntarily, snuggle up to their girlfriend maybe, enjoy a good 32 hours in bed, and just take. One. Day. Off. It’s not that hard, or is it?”

“It’s not,” Lena concurs, finishing one braid in Kara’s long and unfairly soft hair and starting another.

“I work the year round, every day. And night, mind you. Weekends, holidays, always. And I do it gladly. I do it selflessly. I do it with a smile on my face, even. But one day off. One day. Is that really too much to ask for?”

“It’s not.” Lena pauses her braiding to put a soothing hand on Kara’s head. “You’re just doing such a good job the rest of the time, people have forgotten how to take care of themselves without you.”

Kara leans into the touch with a sigh and a grateful smile. “Is it wrong that I kind of like how much they depend on me, even though it annoys me today?”

“Of course not.” Lena lightly scratches her nails over Kara’s scalp, drinking up the contented sighs that fall form Kara’s lips. “I think everybody wants to be needed. It gives us purpose. It gives us strength.” She leans down to press a gentle kiss to Kara’s forehead before she takes up her braiding again. “It’s one of the greatest paradoxes of humankind that this strength doesn’t suffice to sustain you. That you need breaks from being useful, lest your strength depletes.”

Kara nods, momentarily upsetting the row of braids Lena has already finished.

“I love you,” she says.

Lena smiles. “I love you too.”

***

3:45 pm

“I think my butt fell asleep.”

“I call your butt and raise you two legs.” Lena groans. “How do teenagers do this?”

“Do what?” Kara asks, giggling a little at the exaggerated noises Lena is making.

“Do this.” Lena gestures at the two of them, sprawled out on the mattress. “Lie in bed all day, barely moving, except to change the video game or whatever they occupy their brains with all day.”

Kara laughs, loud and hearty. “Rao, Lena, sometimes you are so odd.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Not all teenagers spend all their time in bed, dummy,” Kara says, and it’s only her fond tone that saves her from the pillow Lena almost hurdles at her. “I, for example, was a very active teenager.”

“You hardly count,” Lena retorts, sticking out her tongue when Kara narrows her eyes at her. “Because you’re always active.”

Kara wrinkles her nose, but Lena’s point holds. She huffs.

“What about you then, what did you do as a teenager?”

“I,“ Lena says dignifiedly, “didn’t experience an adolescence.”

“Lena, your adolescence was less than ten years ago.”

Lena sighs dramatically and rolls over, facing her girlfriend with a regretful stare.

“Tell that to my back pain…”

***

4:09 pm

“Isn’t it sad,” Kara muses, kneading Lena’s trapezius muscle with blissfully strong hands, “how it’s already getting dark again?”

Lena moans softly when Kara hits a particularly tense spot. “Is it?”

“Yeah.”

They are silent for a while, Kara moving slowly and methodically up and down Lena’s back, Lena shimmying in and out of consciousness. No phone has rung in over two hours, nobody has disturbed them in their self-imposed solitude, no rule has been broken so far. They are doing exactly what they’ve planned for the day, and it is nothing.

“What a good day,” Lena murmurs, “What a good idea.”

Kara gives her ass a squeeze, and Lena, well on her way to another nap, almost jumps.

“The hell?” She exclaims, which immediately earns her another slap. “What?”

Kara’s voice is a melange of amusement and indignation. “You forgot the golly!”

***

6:37 pm

They start speaking at the same time.

“It’s almost Christmas,” Kara says, and Lena murmurs “How am I already tired?” and then they look at each other and laugh.

“What did you say?” Simultaneously. “You first.”

Lena recovers faster, so she pokes Kara, who’s still laughing, between the ribs.

“Tick, your turn, please speak now.” She presents Kara her fist as a mic, which only results in another burst of laughter. Then Kara’s hand closes around hers, pulling her closer.

“Hello hello, can you hear me?”

Lena giggles. She feels carefree in a way she hasn’t felt in possibly all her life. “Loud and clearly. Please repeat your question.”

“Yes hello,” Kara says, pompous in a way that is exactly like on real TV interviews. “I didn’t so much ask a question as rather observing a fact. That fact being of course the upcoming holiday, namely Christmas.”

At this point they have to drop the act, because Lena is laughing so hard that the mic is shaking and “the connection seems to be bad, hello hello?” And Kara grins at Lena like she did when Lena first fell in love with her, wide and open and with her heart in her hands, ready to give it to anyone she thought worth fighting for. Even a Luthor. Even Lena.

“I’m looking forward to Christmas,” Lena says, but what she means is that she’s never liked the holidays much, until Kara came around and made them worthwhile.

And somehow Kara understands.

“Yes,” she says, “me too.”

***

8:52 pm

“There’ll be much work to catch up on tomorrow,” Lena sighs, playing with the thought of looking at her phone and deciding against it. “But that are tomorrow’s problems.”

Kara hums. She’s floating half an inch above the bed because she finds the mattress is too warm after bearing her body all day.

“I’m still looking forward to that somehow.”

Lena chuckles. “Yes, me too. Isn’t that weird? I thoroughly enjoyed today, but I couldn’t do it again tomorrow.”

“It’s about the – “ Kara forms the chef’s kiss gesture minus the kiss “ – purpose.” She turns on her side to look at Lena. “Or so a wise woman once told me.”

“Sounds very wise indeed. Did she also say something about the reason why I’m tired even though we did nothing all day?”

“Nope.” Kara pops the p, then lets herself fall back on the bed. “But here’s my theory: inaction is like negative action. And at the end of the day, it’s the absolute value that counts, minus or plus doesn’t matter. So if you’ve balanced action and inaction, you won’t be that tired, because they cancel each other. But if you have an overload of either action or inaction…”

“… you’ll feel about as exhausted as I do right now,” Lena finishes, her eyes already closed. “Seems reasonable. It’s compatible with my strength theory, I like that.” She yawns, and feels blindly for Kara’s hand. “Either way, all in favour of an early night, raise your hand.” She lifts their entwined hands off the mattress. “Whooo.”

Kara breathes out a laugh. “Also, if we go to bed now, then tomorrow will come faster.”

“Scientifically incorrect,” Lena murmurs, “but golly.”

“What?”

Lena snuggles into Kara’s embrace until all she can smell is Kara, and all she can feel is also Kara. She yawns again.

“Golly am I looking forward to tomorrow.”