#I will be obligated to be crazy and stay awake all night or put an alarm to just enjoy my thing and not get spoiled? i think i will | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foxintheferns · 9 months

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WILD HEART

Chapter Two

A Twilight - Paul Lahote Fanfiction

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

***Short summary for my antsy gals: this absolute babe with childhood trauma, no real family and a passion for animals goes to live in the woods outside of La Push beach for her job that’s she’s deemed is necessary to find her way in life, and guess who’s not happy she’s there because now they have to worry about this human who’s put herself smack in the middle of bloodsucker city, where they have an instinctual obligation to protect her. And guess who’s even more angry that he suddenly feels an undying and relentless, fiery need to be with her all the time? Angst, tension, passion, anger, love, jealousy, perhaps even some betrayal? This story’s got it all babes (yes, even the smut) - it’s just one of those slow burn, then-suddenly-everything-is-fuckin-crazy-and-the-angst-is-unreal fics, you know? stay tuned ;)

A/N: eek! Chapta 2 bitchezzzzz! welcoming sir Jacob Black to the arena now. Yessssir let’s get this ball rollin I am PUMPED. Give your thoughts on what’s about to happen next, I’m curious 😏

CHAPTER TWO:

I woke in the morning with half of my body hanging off of the little couch, my left foot asleep from being tucked under my other leg for too long. I groaned with sleepiness, slowly and begrudgingly becoming more aware of my surroundings. Light filtered in through the blinds that I had shut tightly over every window in the small cabin. I reached to grab my phone off of the small wooden coffee table, checking the time, and was grateful that my body had me on a regular schedule. I tended to wake naturally around 6 o’clock every morning, unable to fall back into a restful sleep. It was far too dark in the house for the light to have woken me on its own. I stretched and moaned, my legs extending out and causing my feet to go past the end of the couch. I pulled myself up into a sitting position, and mentally prepared for my day ahead. I knew I would have to check out my surroundings today, and plan out the catalog of data I’d be collecting this month. I’d have to focus on one species at a time, and I figured the Marbled Murrelet was a good one to start with. I wanted to see more of La Push, and the endangered, ocean-dwelling bird was on the top of my list for data collection. I ultimately had to submit my findings at the end of each month, in hopes that the observations I gathered could help create ways to bring the species’ numbers back to Washington. I stood, stretching again and drooping down to touch my toes, my body felt so sore, and I was finally feeling the multiples hikes I’d endured last night in bringing my belongings from my car to the house. I ambled over to the kitchen, starting the coffee machine. I walked around the small house, opening every blind I had closed the night before. Sunlight began to fall into the space, a soft warm glow coming through the glass panes. I breathed deeply, feeling confident in my decision to spend the next 18 months here. I knew that my passion for wildlife was one reason that lead me here, but I also knew that my deep and profound need for change was another. I had been living in Maine, finishing my degree and living with my ex boyfriend, Zack. After two years of constant fights, cheating (on his part, never mine), and manipulation, I had finally broken away. I hadn’t realized the relationship had been drowning me slowly. Suffocating me, pulling me under. It brought me to a place where I hadn’t recognized myself in the mirror. At my core, I wasn’t the girl who allowed myself to be treated that way. So why had I done exactly that? When I saw the job listing online, my heart had skipped; I had felt something stirring in me that hadn’t been awake for quite some time. ‘Washington Avian Conservation Project - Wildlife Biologist needed!’ - the posting had read…

‘Chosen candidate to spend 18 months total at observational shelter on Olympic National Park Forest land, 15 minutes outside of La Push, WA. Job description includes data collection and behavioral assessment of wild endangered species, including the Northern Spotted Owl, Marbled Murrelet, and Tufted Puffin for the interest in providing usable information for conservational planning and management of population risks. Utilities/housing included for 18 month period and additional compensation provided’

The lease on the apartment my ex and I had shared was about to be up, and I had taken the leap, applying immediately. To my surprise, a response had come in the next day, asking if I could arrive the following month to begin my stay. The few friends I’d had (although I’d lost quite a few throughout the enduring of my ex boyfriend’s destructive behaviors that had lead to my isolation) supported me greatly in my plans, eager for me to find myself. I wondered, with dismay, if they had seen hope in my eyes for the first time in years, and truly just wanted to me go anywhere that it would grow instead of simply continue to flicker and die out.

My best friend, Naomi, had thrown her arms around me, tears streaming down her soft cheeks. “Oh, Harley! Oh, babe, this is SO exactly what you need! Just get the hell out of here, find you again! God, I’m gonna miss the hell out of you, but…Har- this is it!”, she had cried, her theatrically passionate displays a very normal and truly beautiful part of our friendship that I found myself missing deeply now, being across the country from her. Her bright red hair had been sticking to her tear soaked, freckled face in stringy wet clumps, which I had peeled softly from her cheek with a laugh. I had been crying, too, with Naomi being the first person I told, and the only person whose opinion truly mattered, of my endeavor. And it was true: this was it. This was the shake-me-by-my-shoulders-and-scream-in-my-face to-wake-up blessing I’d been waiting for the universe to throw at me. I needed to remember who I was. What I loved, what I hated, what made me laugh, what made me cry. I had lost my mother 3 years ago now, never really getting to say goodbye to her after she spent her years succumbing to my father’s verbal abuse, never admitting she wasn’t ever truly happy, and never taking her own health seriously enough. Up until the moment she had passed from a heart attack at the age of 59, she had cared more for others than herself. Even her shitty husband. I had disowned my father, never bothering to look at the man again after seeing the way he had broken my mother without regret or acknowledgment. He had spent my childhood being absent, a drunk, and only ever pretending to care about his family for show. He hadn’t tried to contact me after I became estranged, only bothering to tell our relatives what a disappointment he thought I’d turned out to be whenever they saw him at holidays in the years following.

My ex Zack had thrown a fit at my sudden decision to leave. He had called me crazy and selfish, and thrown my large hiking backpack into the dumpster behind our apartment complex, seeming to try to sabotage my plans and somehow prove to me that I was incapable of them. I had pulled my pack from the trash pile, grateful he hadn’t ripped it apart or damaged it, and cleared my belongings from the apartment that night, staying with Naomi at her house in Portland up until the very day I had to leave.

I grunted as I pulled my brown leather boots up, wiggling my toes once they were on. I shook my head back and forth quickly, trying to clear my mind of the memories I’d quite intentionally left in Maine. My long, dark hair fell and jumped in waves around my head as I shook it with vigor, and I felt a surge of angry tears start to prick in my eyes. I felt alone suddenly, and the feeling made me mad at myself. I had known this would be hard. I knew I would feel lonely and sad. But more, I knew my love for nature and its beauty was the one thing that could call me back to who I was.

You’re here to live. You’re here to live for you, for the first time in your life - I told myself, breathing deeply and pulling my small pack that contained my data collection journal and my binoculars onto my back- It’s not going to be easy. But we’re doing it.

……………………………………………………………………………………

I spent the next few hours, and then the next several days falling into my routine. I woke up, ate breakfast, put my clothes and boots on, ventured out into the forest, and watched the birds of the Olympic Peninsula. I watched them flying, I watched them singing and talking amongst themselves. I watched their eating habits, their patterns and their routines, as I settled into mine. I found more peace in watching them simply exist than I ever thought possible. I began to recognize the same birds after several days, hearing their calls and watching their motions. When the sun would fall behind the trees and the star filled night would arrive, I continued to close the wooden blinds and lock the door of the lookout cabin tightly, never forgetting the reality that I was, indeed, a twenty something year old woman in the woods by herself. I tried to brush off the odd feeling I had that I wasn’t at all alone in the forest, reminding myself that I was simply hyper aware of the many species I shared the mountains with.

On day six, I made my way down to La Push’s first beach, and wondered immediately why it had taken me so long to come. I was beginning to feel quite socially isolated, and knew that talking to myself as much as I had been was probably a sign to spend my time around some humans as soon as possible. Although cloudy, and far from hot, the beach was a breathtaking place. Several tourists and visitors walked or sat along the sand, some exploring the tidal pools closer to the trees while others stooped to take photographs of the large rock formations in the water on the horizon. I decided a break was needed, and suddenly felt a surge of anticipation at the conquest of speaking to an actual person. Five days alone had passed quickly, and I hadn’t been truly mentally present after trying to avoid the negative feelings of accepting my own presence. It was hard to be alone with the woman in my mind after not really trying to know her for so long. I didn’t recognize her, but I was beginning to familiarize myself again. And, to be quite honest, I was beginning to be okay with her.

I decided a visit to a local restaurant would be the best idea; after all, a girl can only eat so much boxed mac and cheese. I walked down the main dirt road along the beach that cut through a small corner of the residential parts of the reservation. I had been studying the local maps, and knew that much of the land I was studying on, including the land that held my lookout shelter, belonged to the Quileute Reservation. Billy Black’s face flashed through my mind, and I wondered if he’d truly meant what he said when he politely offered his name and where to find him if I ever needed help.

What would make him think I’d need help?, I wondered scrutinizingly. I shook my head to myself as I trekked down the rocky dirt road, my map showing me only about a half mile more before the small reservation restaurant would be on my left.

Once I arrived outside the adorably cozy cedar-shake sided building, I immediately noticed the group of four very tall young men standing in the dirt parking lot. They were all tanned and ridiculously well muscled, and I found it a bit of a struggle to keep my eyes off of them as I had to walk past their huddle to enter the restaurant. One of them was completely shirtless. I quickly darted my gaze back to the ground when one turned in my direction at the sound of my footsteps. They were immersed in conversation, their deep and muffled voices a low hum as they spoke. After the one man turned in my direction, all four of their voices went quiet, and I felt heat rush to my face. With the heat of the eyes on me, I began to question my appearance. I wondered how I presented to locals. Did I look odd to these men? Lost? Dirty? Having spent almost the past week studying birds in the forest, I wasn’t sure I looked too good.

You showered, I reminded myself soothingly.

It’s probably not even about you, stop being so egocentric! my inner voice resounded again.

It was most definitely about me, or the men had coincidentally run out of things to talk about just as I had arrived. Their conversation remained halted as I kept my gaze on the front door of the restaurant, slipping inside quietly. My peripheral vision told me they never broke their attention from my arrival, and it irked me that they would be so brazenly unashamed to stare.

Inside the restaurant, only a few guests sat and dined, and I felt calmed by the fact that none of them seemed to glance my way or care about my presence.

“Hey sweetie, just you?” The soft feminine voice broke through my inner dialogue, and I turned my attention towards the sound. An older, doe-eyed woman stared at me with a gentle expression upon her face. She had jet black hair that fell to her midsection and was adorned with two thick braids on either side of her face. Her smile was kind, and her eyes seemed to soften slightly when she took in whatever she saw in my expression. Her gaze flicked to my backpack, then to the paper map I clutched in my right hand.

I nodded politely, returning the smile.

“Just me,” I replied, trying to ignore the repetitive nature of the few words I’d spoken to other living souls in the past week. She nodded back and gestured for me to follow her, guiding me to a booth in the corner along the front window of the restaurant.

“This spot alright? Nice light over here, I think.” I nodded and hummed gratefully in response, not quite remembering how to speak to another human in that exact moment, and slipped down onto the vinyl cushioned seat. I glanced quickly out the window, watching as the group of four men were now walking away from the restaurant in long strides, and felt the hair on my arm raise and bristle when I saw one of them shoot a brief look back to the restaurant. His face was striking - and startlingly familiar. I held back a gasp when I realized it was the face of the boy whom I’d seen with my new acquaintance, Billy Black, at the grocery store on my first day in town. He turned back again and kept walking with the other men, seemingly disappearing into the tree-line behind the dirt road.

……………………………………………………………………………………

Sue was my kind waitress, and in the 2 hours I spent at La Push’s tiny restaurant, she became my first new friend in Washington. Her gentle demeanor was undeniably motherly; it soothed me more than I thought possible. I hadn’t known how much I needed to be nurtured after the overwhelming change of the last week. She must have been able to sense the ache I felt within me for company and a listening ear. Sue sat with me at the small booth while I ate my warm chowder, grabbing a bowl for herself from the kitchen and shooting the man behind the back counter a look when he seemed ready to protest. Sue was immediately interested in why I was traveling alone, and felt compelled to tell me of her daughter and son, who she said were right around my age and lived on the reservation with her. We laughed and chatted as Sue welcomingly accepted my droning on and on about how much I loved my new occupation. She seemed to have no trouble understanding my passion for watching the birds, and nodded knowingly and with interest when I delved into ridiculously mundane (to anyone who wasn’t me - or a wildlife biologist) details of their subtle quirks and personality differences. She even belly laughed, shaking her head in honest disbelief as I told her of the one Tufted Puffin I had deemed to be ‘Frank’, as he tended to stumble around with the singular and all consuming goal of finding a female companion, and it had reminded me of a perpetually drunk friend of my father’s who often displayed similar desperate intentions.

After a free slice of chocolate cake on Sue’s request from the kitchen, and a plea for me to come back soon, I found myself bidding Sue a good evening, wanting to return on my hike back to the house before the sun set entirely. Sue tucked a few chocolate chip cookies into my backpack before I left, grinning and shooting me a wink.

The walk back to my humble cabin felt significantly longer and farther than my initial trip to town, and I found myself feeling more uneasy than I would’ve expected when the second half of my trip was blanketed in pitch darkness. My large flashlight illuminated the minimally marked trail ahead of me, although I knew I could find the way back to the cabin quite easily from memory at this point. I couldn’t decide what was bothering me so deeply. I had been in the forest after nightfall before, many times. This wasn’t new to me, and yet I found the hair on the back of my neck refused to relax. The muscles in my legs and back were tense, as if my body felt an underlying sense that I would need to break into a sprint at any given moment. It wasn’t until I heard the clear and obvious crunch of branches and vegetation underfoot that I validated the odd gut feeling I was experiencing. The sound was loud and heavy enough that I knew within seconds that it did not belong to something as small as a squirrel. I froze immediately on the dirt path, knowing I was way too far from the beach to try to run back to it now, and not close enough yet to the cabin to make it there before the likely creature could catch me. The sound seemed to be coming closer, although it was hard to tell just how far away it was. All I could grasp was that it came vaguely from my right.

Fuck. I thought to myself. Cougars, Grizzly Bears, there were far too many possibilities that this animal was one of immense danger for me to remain calm. I did the one thing I knew to do, and quickly reached behind me with my unoccupied hand to unclip the bear spray that hung from the right side of my backpack. Flashlight in one fist, bear spray in the other, I stood motionless in the center of the path, unable to hear much now over the sound of my heart beating like a drum in my ears. The crunching continued, and I shone my light across the trees quickly, trying to direct it to where the sound had come from, but not quite knowing which exact direction it had been. The light found nothing, and I suddenly remembered what I had been taught in my wildlife emergency training classes. “Hey, bear! H-hey bear!,” I yelled with as much force and strength as I could muster, my eyes searching the black around me wildly for any hint of motion, or the outline of a giant, lumbering bear, perhaps. My voice had come out broken and shaky, and I felt the urge to scream in terror rising like a lump in my throat. At my voice, the sound ceased entirely, and I had no idea where to point my flashlight. Silence fell across the forest around me. My body was tingling with fear, all of my nerves activated and engaged as I waited for what felt like several seconds.

“Well, I’m not a bear, but if I was - don’t know that those sounds would do the trick.”

The deep, rough, and seemingly amused voice came from somewhere in the dark abyss to my right, and I spun on my heel, gasping harshly and dropping my flashlight in the choppy motion.

“Shit!” The word came from my throat in a strained whisper that sounded humiliatingly close to a whimper. I dove quickly to grab the heavy flashlight again, and flung the light toward the voice.

My mouth fell open as my light touched upon the man. His massively tall frame was made to look bigger still by the shadows that the flashlight casted across the trees around him. It took me no less than two seconds to recognize him. The same man from the grocery store, and then from outside the restaurant. The one with Billy Black. His face was defined, dark and playful eyes surrounded by the facial structure of what could only be compared to a statuesque figure. A prominent set of dark brows sat above his eyes, and they came together now, straining as he threw a hand up in front of his face. “Jesus, wha-, fuck, can you shine that down?!” His voice came again, somehow alarming me more after I had observed him for the seemingly endless moment. It seemed my mind had forgotten he was a real person, only taking in his features as if I were watching from an outsider’s perspective. After a brief hesitation, I sputtered and directed the beam of the flashlight to settle at his legs, ensuring I could still make out his face easily. I was unsure how, but his facial features put me at ease in the same way the stranger Billy Black’s had, despite the fact that there was absolutely nothing calming about this situation. I was unsure where to begin.

“H-…wha-who-,” I stammered, then took a breath and began again, “Why are you following me?” My voice didn’t have a single ounce of the stone cold confidence I’d tried to instill in it. I swallowed hard as I realized my bear spray was the one thing I had to defend myself, and my grip on the can tightened slightly, my fingers cold and stiff.

The young man’s expression didn’t waver. In fact, the only change in his face was the small lifting of one corner of his mouth into the beginning of a smirk. I felt a wave of terror wash through me as I imagined the horrific fate I could be in for if this stranger had the intentions my inner voice was screaming at me to be wary of. Despite my accusation, his gaze softened then, and it almost looked like he was about to laugh. He exhaled from his nose in a short, sharp breath, the sound resembling the start of a chuckle but ending quickly as he raised his brows and found my fear-stricken face in the darkness. He leaned forward slightly, cocking his head to the side. His voice was low and velvety, and summoned goosebumps across my arms once again.

“Following you? You’re on my land, sweetheart.”

➡️CLICK FOR NEXT CHAPTER

A/N: Chapter 3 coming soon! Thank you guys for stickin with it thru to this point if you’ve read this far :-) I’m so excited for the plot to thicken 🤪 let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter’s upload!

-Ro

#fanfiction #fanfic #twilight #paullahote #Jacob black #Paul Lahote #imagines #fic #twilightfanfic #twilight fanfiction #romance #werewolf fanfic #werewolf #werewolves #edward cullen

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serede986 · 3 years

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Should this be.. awkward? (Jumin and you | NSFW)

⚠️ 18+ Content ahead

You felt the shuffling beside you, you always do, every morning, a side that is always left cold, till the dawn.

He knows this too, you're awake.

This happens every morning, none saying anything. Maybe, cause at the back of your mind you both know.

You don't know how this awkwardness between you both in the morning started, it didn't matter how much love you made the previous day.

Rain splattered outside, a light breeze from the window surrounding a cool and calm atmosphere inside the room, making you clutch tight to the blanket, saving the heat of the person that would leave your presence soon.

Your fist tightened around the fabric, a pull that you felt stopped with a light jerk.

"MC" he muttered low, raspy, shocking you. No wonder it was, you hardly ever heard him in the morning. It came across as a soft kiss on your cheek, voice filled with softness and love for your presence. And maybe some sort of relief.

You sat up, frowning. He was up, eyes filled with sleep and worry. It was awkward usually.

You crawled in front of him, wrapping your arms and legs around his torso, covering him with what heat was about to leave you a few minutes ago.

"Stay... Please..." You mumbled against his skin, resting your lips against his neck, pecking that warmth and.. that love you feel from him.

Gently placing his hand on your cheek, he pushed you back softly, leaning against you, kissing. Your lips moved against his in soft ecstasy, eyes closed to the feeling of his fingers caressing your cheeks as though anything more and you'll get hurt. That's how precious you are to him, his love language.

He proceeded to lay you down on the mattress, caressing that gorgeous hair that fans below your head.

"Is.. should we continue?" The grey in his eyes reflects you, a beautiful shine that completes him.

Smiling, you put your hands on his cheeks, squishing lightly. "yes, and I love you."

Putting your hands on your sides, he bent down, nuzzling his nose against yours, mixing the sound of rain with that of your sweet giggles.

He chuckled alongside, pressing a kiss on your cheek and moving down to nuzzle his nose on your skin, just beneath your right jaw, breathing what is the most beautiful scent for him. You always have this on, that sweet cologne.

You huffed out, feeling his kisses approaching your sensitive spot. Slightly damp, but soft. Fingering through his hair, you pulled them lightly, a light groan that made you fiddle with your toes.

With a slight tug to get him up from your neck, he obliged, looking at you with what still makes those butterflies go crazy.

Closing your eyes, you pulled him down lightly and kissed his temple, slowly moving the kisses down towards his jaw, pulling back to see his cheeks glow pink. You smiled, allowing him to pull up your lounge wear off you body.

"I can never get enough of how beautiful you are, MC." You looked away shyly at his compliment, feeling him chuckle and gaze at you black lingerie.

He sat up to remove his shirt and night shorts, revealing his black boxer that.. prominently showed his growing boner through the fabric. Spreading your legs, he got in between. Bending over once again, he kissed the plump skin of your breast that spilled above your bra. Arching your back, you reached with your hands behind to unhook the bra, leaving it loose to have him remove it from your torso.

Clutching the sheet beneath you, a moan escaped, feeling his lips and finger play with nipple. Your chest heaved up and down, feeling his tongue swirl around your nipple. Gasping, you felt the vibrations of his chuckle through your skin. A scoff left you.

His kisses became sloppy and damp, moving downwards slowly. He took his time around your V-line that peeked through your underwear. Looking over at him in anticipation, you moaned, feeling his lips tough around your nub through your panty. Pushing the fabric aside, you felt his tongue touch. Damp muscle moves up and down in the core, moving in a way that mostly puts you over the edge. You clutched the sheets beside yourself, thighs fighting to not close around his head.

His tongue took a dip in your entrance, immediately going back up and pulling you over the edge. Your moans became louder, somehow managing to escape "stop.. or I'll come.." in between them. He grinned, increasing his speed. You closed your eyes, as euphoria took over, jerking, as it came in waves of pleasure.

Jumin sat up, grinning his smile. He kicked his lips and your juices covers his chin, shining.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of you, kissing his lips that were wrapped around your taste.

Pulling down both of your underwear, you took his length in your hand, stroking it up and down. Getting in between your legs, he lined his length against your entrance.

Jumin held his cock upright, letting your folds wrap around himself and slowly moving in. A sigh of being filled, and filling escaped both of you. He started slowly, bending over you and kissing your lips while his length filled you in with pleasure. He moved down your neck, biting, all while increasing his speed. Sound of your skin slapping echoed, something that made you arch up and wrap your arms around his torso. He pulled you up in his arms, sucking a spot on your neck.

"J-jumin.. jaagi I'm close" you huffed out, nuzzling your nose against his neck, breathing in the musky scent he uses for you.

"Me too.. darling,"

You bit on the skin of his neck as euphoria took over you once again, clenching your walls around him. He groaned in your ears, feeling you tighten around him. A few more motions and he shot inside you, filling you with the result of your love.

Slowly pulling out, he laid you down, caressing your head while you breathed heavily.

He grinned, looking down at your lower lips that leaked the result of his job.

Smiling, you sighed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bath door. Cleanup that was necessary, or maybe there was no cleanup? ;)

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mashiraostail · 4 years

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Can I get Present Mic, Aizawa, Vlad King and Gang Orca when their S/O wakes up with a bad fever and they're a little loopy but they're shivering so bad because despite the fact they're burning up they feel super cold.

coincidentally i have been sick since yesterday night pretty rad i just slug over to my roommates like ‘leon...i need...water....’ and he’s like ‘no <3′ also I'm getting so soft for gang orca idk why sfslfdsal

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic: It’s like the fatigue ran over you the second you opened your eyes and rolled over. You had barely been awake for 2 seconds but you felt like you’d just done a week's worth of patrols. “Hey look who decided to join us.” Hizashi is already awake beside you holding his phone above his face, “you’re later than normal. Good morning.” He grins at you, but his grin slips away at the sound of your groan. “Babe you’re shivering.” You hear his phone click off as he shuffles up, “want me to close the window?” He inspects the flush on your cheeks, “you feel alright?” He reaches out and slides his hand over your forehead. You just groan again, flopping back into the pillows. “You’ve definitely got a fever.” He frowns cupping your cheeks, “wait here, I’m gonna get a thermometer, and some medicine.” His hands feel perfect and cooling on your cheeks, all you can do when he starts to pull away is whine. “Zashi no-” You complain and so he goes back to you, letting you grip his wrists in your clammy palms, “your hands feel nice..” if his hands felt this good then...you shrug them away and slump forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck, “you can’t leave me I’ll die.” “Don’t say something like that!” He pats the back of your head, “it’s only a fever, probably a pretty high one. You’re so warm..” He wraps his arms around you and you warble. “No I feel like I’m gonna freeze to death.” “Stop talking about dying!” He complains, but slumps back into the pillows, taking you with him. “Did you feel okay yesterday?” He slides his hands up the back of your shirt as you nod. “It’s probably the flu.” He rubs flat palms in slow circles between your shoulder blades, “poor you.” “poor me.” You agree with a sniffle and he chuckles a little, “well let me take care of you. I’ll be right back, you won’t even notice I’m gone.” He promises as you shuffle higher up his chest until you’re pressing your nose into his jaw. “I’ll be right back. You sure got lucky getting sick on a Sunday like this.” “You’ll stay with me all day?” You press your face further into his neck, trying to find a new cool patch of skin to lean on. “I’ll stay with you all day.”

Shouta Aizawa: Sweat. Cold sweat. That’s all you can think of when the sound of the front door opening wakes you up. You sit up and rub your face then down the whole glass of water on your bedside table. By the time your done Aizawa is cracking the bedroom door open. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” He’s already starting to remove his hero costume. You shake your head, technically he did but you had a feeling anything would have woken you up in your current state. “No...just..up.” “Well then what are you doing up so late it’s almost 4 in the-” He squints at you, “you don’t look so good.” He’s quickly tying the drawstring to some sweatpants before sitting before you in bed. “‘m...alright..how was..?” You trail off, “where were you? School?” He snorts, “yeah extra 4 am classes. I was on patrol. Slow night.” He slicks your hair off your sweaty forehead, “you have a crazy fever.” “Mhm..no..just..kinda cold in here.” “That’s the opposite of a fever.” Shouta lets you fall forward onto his chest anyway, “did you feel alright when you went to bed?” “A little achy.” You wrap your arms around his back, his skin was cold against you. His hands were freezing where one cupped the back of your neck, though despite your shivering the sensation was welcome. He presses a long kiss to your hairline, “you need medicine and some more water.” “Just come to bed.” You moan turning your face into his chest, “I just need to sleep.” “I don’t think so.” he disagrees, “come on, take some meds, drink a little water, and then I’ll get in bed with you.” “I don’t wanna.” You grip him tighter as he moves to get up turning your nose into the shallow divot of his sternum between his pecs. “Stop whining.” His other hand pats the back of your head, “come on if you take medicine before you go back to sleep you’ll feel better when you wake up. If you don’t take any and then wake up feeling worse I won’t take care of you.” “Cruel!” You nuzzle into him further and he sighs. “Okay I would but I’d say I told you so, and you’d feel worse. Come on.” He pries you off of him, “I won’t leave you again after I get back I swear.”

Sekijiro Kan/ Vlad King: When you wake up all you can think about is just going back to sleep. Sekijiro is still passed out beside you, it’s probably pretty early. You stick you leg out from underneath the covers, hoping that will rectify the temperature issue you were having. It does not. You were melting and somehow also freezing. Sekijiro looked pretty content, all things considered. You were sure he wouldn’t mind if you just..shuffled over..you press yourself into his back, face buried between his shoulder blades. This was helping worlds more than sticking your leg out did. You coil one arm around the much larger man, you were sure this all looked pretty comical. Your nuzzling and shifting must wake him up. “Huh?” He’s reaching back, patting around your back and shoulders until hie finds your hair, “oh.” He settles back into place once he does, “aren’t you sweet?” He yawns, “could’ve came around my other side, you woulda fit.” You just lean into him more. He turns over to face you, careful not to knock you away. “What’s got you up so early?” He doesn’t let you answer though, one look at you gives it away. “You’re pale. Not feeling well?” Your groan is more than sufficient. “You’re nice and cool though..” You shuffle close to him again, now against his chest. “Jeeze, you’re burning up..” He’s rubbing long strokes over your back, “shoulda got me up sooner..” “‘s okay...” You sling an arm around his ribs, “you’re up now..” “Yeah, I am..” He holds the back of your head with his other hand and lets you wallow for a moment before pulling you up towards him by your jaw, “you should take something for this fever. Once that’s cleared up you’ll feel much better.” He presses a kiss to you and you hum into it. “Will you be okay for a few minutes?” You nod, turning into his lips for another kiss, which he obliges before getting up. “I wonder where this came from all of a sudden.” He hands you two small pills and a glass of water. You take the pills quickly before beaconing him toward you again, he just sighs affectionately. “Yeah okay, okay come on, get up here, right on my chest. That’s it.” He wraps two big arms around you, “I’ll stick around here today alright?”

Kugo Sakamata/ Gang Orca You were already feeling pretty bad when you decided to call it an early night, but you’re hopeful it won’t be so bad when sleep finds you easily, though when you wake up a few hours later you’re feeling significantly less hopeful. You pat around the sheets for Kugo but he’s not there which isn’t exactly surprising, but it is unfortunate. Normally you appreciated the cool of his satin sheets but right now they just made you shiver even more, all you really wanted was Kugo You manage to slide out of the bed and stumble down the hall in search of him, you wonder what time it is as you nudge open his offce door, sort of surprised you’d found it so easy in your weary state. Sure enough he’s there at his desk, tapping a pen against some papers. When the door clicks open against you he turns over his shoulder. “Hm?” He perks up at the sight of you, “I thought you were in bed?” “Kugo..” You warble, rubbing your face, he turns in his chair completely. “Oh, what’s the matter my love?” His voice is laced with affectionate sympathy at your bleary eyes. “Can’t sleep?” He asks, watching you lean dramatically on the doorframe. “Mhmn..” You shake your head, pressing your cheek into the cool material. “You can’t?” He tilts his head at you, “but you look so exhausted my dear.” He holds an arm out to you, “come here. Sit with me for a bit, maybe I can help.” You trudge over to him as soon as he extends an arm and clamber into his lap, though when you’re close enough to touch he’s taking your face in his hands. “Oh dear..” He looks down at you, “feels like you’ve got quite a fever. You should have told me you didn’t feel well..” “Hm...I’m alright..” You lean into him and he sighs as you continue, “what are you up to?” “Just finishing some reports, honestly it’s putting me to sleep, maybe it’ll do the trick for you.” He slides his free hand into the back of your shirt, you’re more than grateful for his cool skin against yours, the sigh you let out at the contact makes it obvious to him. “Oh, does that feel good?” He slides his hand up the small of your back, pulling you in closer with a chuckle, you just nod grip the back of his shirt. “Close your eyes love, I’ll carry you to bed once I’m done here.”

#aizawa shouta x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #vlad king x reader #gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata x reader #present mic x reader #aizawa x reader #bnha x reader #bnha request

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werenotadulting · 3 years

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Routine Procedure pt. 2 & 3

(Hello friends. Before we continue, a disclaimer. This story is intended for mature, 18+, kink-friendly audiences. This post contains sexual content.

This story may seem, uh, pretty fucked up. The product that caused Mike's incontinence is purely fictional, but the story can still seem plausible within the realm of reality. Which makes the actions of the characters....well, pretty fucked up. I don't want to spoil the story, but I will leave with this.

Aren't we all, in our own way, a little fucked up?

I'd woken up as we turned onto our street.

"Hey sweetie. We're almost home."

"Huh, wh-...where are we?" I blinked a couple times, my eyes adjusting to the light.

She took my hand in hers. "You're in the car, on the way home from the hospital. There's something I need to-"

Suddenly I was wide awake.

"Oh man, I had the weirdest dream. I was in recovery and all the sudden the doctor is going on about how something went wrong, which is crazy, right? Like it was the easiest of surgeries, so it's not like something could ever go wrong."

Kate just stared straight ahead as she pulled into our driveway.

"Let's talk inside."

────────

"You have to remember to check it every couple of hours, Mike. I can do it for you if want me to."

I glared at her.

"Jesus Kate, don't you think I know that? It's bad enough I have to wear this stupid thing, but you don't have to keep reminding me like I'm some kind of child!"

Was I overreacting? Maybe. Did I have every right to be upset about what I'd woken up to in the hospital? Absolutely. Did Kate deserve me taking my anger out on her?

No. She didn't.

I took a deep breath, counting to ten in my head.

"Okay, listen. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you, I just...I feel like my life just got turned upside down. You're only trying to help and....I'm sorry," I finished lamely.

Kate, noticing my shirt had become tucked into the back of my pull-up, pulled it out.

"I understand, Mike," Kate said, looking at me with sympathy. "You didn't ask for this, plus that whole thing with the clause in the paperwork. There's not much we can do but move on and learn to cope." She stood up, smiling at me. "But on the brightside, no medical bills, plus they're offering to cover the cost of whatever supplies you need. I'm going to be here every step of the way, helping you out however you need it."

Despite her positive outlook, I wasn't swayed. "Oh, sure, great." I laid the sarcasm on thick. "I get to spend the rest of my life peeing myself. The brightside is oh so blinding."

"It was a really long day, babe," Kate said, hushing my attitude and moving behind me as she started to rub my shoulders. "What do you say you take a couple of those sleeping pills, zonk out for the night, and see what kind of fresh perspective tomorrow brings, huh?"

Sleep did sound like the only brief respite I was going to get from this hell.

"If you'd like, I can check you during the night to see if it need changed. That way you can just sleep and not have to worry."

"Umm no, it's fine. I just put it on, so it should last me overnight. You'd probably only wake me up anyway. Thank you though," I said, giving her a small smile. "I'm glad at least one of us is handling this well."

────────

It wasn't until around midnight that Mike finally got comfortable enough to sleep. As Kate looked in on him, she could see that he was still a little restless, tossing and turning as if having a bad dream.

For a brief second she had second thoughts, but quickly shoved them aside. No, she wanted this. Mike needed this. She had waited so long. It was for the best. She looked down on him lovingly.

"Sleep well, my sweet boy. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be just as interesting as today was."

Even when he took sleeping pills, Mike was notoriously a restless sleeper. And she may or may not have poked a couple holes in the pull-up. Mike didn't bother to check, and why should he?

After all, accidents happen.

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Part 3

Cold.

The first thing that hit me was how cold I was.

That didn't make any sense. I'm in bed, I shouldn't be cold. I grabbed the covers to push them back and immediately realized why I was cold.

The bed, the sheets, the comforter, all of them, were wet.

"Shit."

I saw then why the bed had gotten wet. No. Soaked.

Tossing and turning in my sleep, the pull-up, I presume, had not stayed in place. Meaning the bed had gotten soaked. Meaning I had gotten soaked. Hence...

"Shit."

Kate walked out of the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel with a second around her body.

"Hey babe. I had to get up to get cleaned off, because I was covered in...well, yeah. Are you okay?"

I got up and began balling up the sheets and bedspread. "Oh I'm just peachy. I pissed all over myself like a baby last night, so that was fun. I also will continue to piss all over myself no matter what I do, and I'll be stuck doing laundry every day for the rest of my life!"

I threw the bedding on the floor in disgust. Kate took my arm, tenderly, and stopped my tantrum.

"Hey, listen. Strip down, and go take a shower. Take that stupid thing off, get out the loofah, and scrub. I don't want you coming out until you're good and relaxed, you hear me? I'll wash the sheets." As she was saying this, Kate was already moving to take the mattress protector off of the bed.

"No, Kate, stop. You don't have to-"

"Get. In. The. Shower."

"But..."

"NOW!" I can only describe the look she was giving me as domineering. I'd never seen her like this. "Don't make me ask again."

Sheepishly, I began to disrobe.

Kate's voice returned to its normal, caring tone. "Once you're all washed up, meet me in the living room, please. I want to talk to you about something."

────────

Kate was sitting on the couch when I walked out. She pat the cushion next to her, indicating she wanted me to sit down.

"Mike, sweetie. I want you to listen to me without interrupting, okay? And please remember that all I'm saying comes from a place of love and wanting you to be happy," Kate said, her big hazel eyes looking at me imploringly.

"Umm...okay, sure yeah. What's up?" I sat down next to her.

"First, I wanted to reiterate that I understand how frustrated you must be right now. But I don't want to be the target of your outbursts. It's not fair." She paused, looking at me, and I just nodded that I understood.

"Second, I think we both can see that the whole pull-up thing isn't working. I don't want another surprise like last night." Here she stopped again, turning to grab something from behind the couch. She pulled a plastic package out and set it on her lap.

"The hospital gave us these to try if the... if we wanted to try something different," she said, pulling a white rectangle out of the package. It made a rustling sound as she grabbed it.

"Is that a....I am not wearing a diaper!"

"Mike, please, stop. Just listen. You said you wouldn't interrupt." She moved the package back to the floor, keeping the diaper on her lap.

"I'm just asking you to try, for both my sake and yours. Please?"

She didn't continue, so I took that as my cue that I could speak, but I didn't know what to say. I sat in silence, thinking, for what felt like hours.

She had a point. I had slept terribly, which was likely to make me even more irritable. But on the other hand, could I really stand to go through the embarrassment of wearing a diaper? Although I suppose it is preferable to having wet pants. I couldn't imagine the humiliation I would feel if I were to leak all over myself in public.

Finally, I broke the silence.

"I've....I've never had to put on or change a diaper before..." I said finally, hanging my head.

Kate perked up, that smile I loved hinting on her lips.

"I can help with that, babe. Just at first, until you get the hang of it. And if they don't work, we will move on to the next thing, okay?"

"Are you sure d-diapers are the best option?" I had to struggle to get the word out. "How do you know they will help?" I said, unable to take my eyes off of the plastic object on her lap.

"For one, pull-ups are pretty much already diapers. We'd just be changing them even more often."

She picked up the diaper and stood up, pulling me by the hand.

"Second, judging by the fact that I'm going to have to clean that couch cushion, I'd say we need to at least try something."

────────

"Lift up so I can slide this under you."

I obliged, holding my butt up in the air as I lay on the freshly cleaned sheets. I tried to look anywhere but at Kate.

Kate unfolded the diaper, fluffing it slightly. She positioned the diaper under me and I lowered down onto it.

"You know, this doesn't have to be all bad," she said, as she picked up a bottle of baby powder. Why did we even have baby powder? Where did that come from?

"Oh, really? Explain to me what about having my girlfriend change me into a diaper isn't all bad." I continued to stare pointedly at the ceiling.

"For starters," she said, dusting powder on my groin, "there's this." Suddenly, she reached down and began slowly stroking my cock.

"Whuuuuu-oah boy. Um just w-what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm rubbing in the powder, clearly," she said, and I finally looked to see that devilish grin back on her face. "You don't seem to be protesting that...hard," she giggled. "I figured since I'm down here, I might as well make myself useful." Without further preamble, she lowered her mouth and took me inside of it.

"That's..uhhh....o-okay...." I trailed off, lost in a mix of confusion and pleasure. It wasn't long before I was finished, and Kate was sitting back up. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and swallowed.

"Wow, you must have enjoyed that, I don't think you've ever cum so quicky."

I was too stunned to speak. My gaze had returned to the ceiling, but I wasn't focused on anything.

Kate started to move again, and I heard that crinkling sound. She pulled the diaper up and taped it snugly in place, securing me into the first of what would soon become my all-too-familiar thick and crinkly underwear.

"So tell me, Mike," she said, patting the front of the diaper as she looked over her handiwork, "was that all bad?"

#werenotadulting

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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 4 years

Text

The Hangover (Def Leppard x Reader)

(Happy birthday to my blog!! To celebrate 3 years of the place where I concentrate my insane Leppard obsession, I thought I’d celebrate by posting the FIRST Def Leppard fanfic I EVER wrote ((which I have NEVER posted anywhere before!)) I began writing this exactly 3 years ago today- the day I made this blog ((February 19th, 2018))- and officially finished it about a year later. This is not intended as a romantic/sexual fic, it’s simply just an x reader in which the reader is basically one of the guys. In other words, it’s on crack.)

((I am aware this is kind of cringe-worthy at times... but I still like a lot of things about it. While I revised it very slightly before queuing it, I was still 16 when I started writing this, okay... gimme a break...))

(Illustration by @paper-sxn)

Words: 8,684 Prompt: Dublin, 1984. You’re with the Leppards in their early pre-Hysteria era house. You all wake up with hangovers after a boozed-up night at home, and you each try to put the pieces of the previous night back together. Meanwhile, you’re praying that one particular piece won’t fit in anywhere... (partially inspired by the “Blitzgiving” and “The Pineapple Incident” episodes of How I Met Your Mother)

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Gently piercing white light made its way through the windows of the bedroom. It hit your eyelids, and it hit your brain, igniting a brief but killer headache. As your eyes clasped together more, you turned your face into the gloriously soft pillow. For a second you asked yourself why you would have a headache so early in the morning, but then…

You laughed quietly into the bed, recalling without warning some vague happenings from the night before. There wasn’t much you remembered, but you clearly saw the image of the guys flat out drunk at some point (you along with them). There were some blips of you all singing together, Sav hanging from a door frame, you chugging some scotch, Joe chugging some vodka, Steve’s hair being in pigtails, and you think Phil might’ve been giving you a lap dance... or vice versa. It was, all in all, hysterical (at least- that’s what you wanted to think).

Other than those faint events, unfortunately, the night was gone. Still, you were thrilled that it happened. Crazy times with your boys were always good.

You rubbed your eyes, ready for more sleep to combat the pounding in your head. When you did, they opened a little, and you realized… this wasn't your room you were in. Squinting around, you noticed that you were sleeping in Phil’s room instead of yours.

Oh, it’s not that much of a problem, you mused, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. I’ve woken up to worse in this place.

You let your eyes close again easily, and you found peace as you began to fall under again. That is, until you felt someone move next to you.

When it happened, you became aware of the warmth coming from someone else in the bed. They only shifted in their sleep a little bit before going still again. Your eyes went wide, and you held your breath. You don’t remember getting into bed with someone (in fact, you don’t remember getting into bed at all). Turning your head, you looked to see what sort of stranger was in bed with you currently. Instead of a stranger, scraggly blonde hair over a kind and shy face met your sight, and you were instantly calmed upon realizing that it was just Steve. That was good, that was good, but why were you and Steve sleeping in Phil’s bed? You were sure you didn’t have sex last night- at least, not with Steve. This tiny moment of appeasement and confusion was cut short by the faint sound of guitar chords coming from downstairs. The music echoed to your ears, signaling that it had to be Phil, and that he was playing the opening to Bringin On the Heartbreak. Cautiously taking the covers off you- not wanting to wake Steve- you felt obliged to go to the other guitarist. When you stood up and began walking, you nearly fell forward from the sudden vertigo of your hangover. You had to hold onto the counter of Phil’s dresser for extra support, and that’s when your reflection in his mirror caught your eye. Not only that, but that’s when your outfit also caught your eye. One of the guys’ Union Jack tank tops had been slipped over you somehow, and two hand prints were on either side of your face in dried paint; one was blue, one was green. "What…?“ you whispered, touching your face and feeling the shirt on you. It seemed to fit you alright, which made you wonder whose it really was. You were also in black underwear, and nothing else. While eyeing yourself, you took notice of Steve in the reflection. You now saw a few big red lipstick stains on his face, untouched and unsmudged. It was pretty cute, you had to admit, but another thing that came to your attention was that it wasn’t you who was wearing the lipstick at the moment. So then who kissed Steve all over his face? You treaded carefully down the hallway, putting one foot in front of the other and dragging a hand on the wall for support. The melody of the distant guitar didn’t cease the whole time you trekked through the house to get to Phil. When the chords of the song dragged on to the part where the vocals should have begun, no vocals came. Everything in the house looked remarkably the same (despite everything you remember from last night). There were large, ripped pieces of cardboard in the middle of the hallway; scattered out as if leaving a trail. Alongside that, there was a piece of paper labeled “pay 2 the orerr of Rick: one fuckin bendee straw” in what may have been Sav’s handwriting on top of the stairs, and blue paint smudged on the railing going downwards (guaranteeing that whoever did that eventually got to your face, too).

Step by step you descended as the scenery of the house teetered around you (a little too reminiscent of Me & My Wine, you would add). When you reached the bottom of the stairs and looked into the living room, sure enough, Phil was there, strumming away.

“But it’s easy come and easy go…” he hummed.

“You’re…” you mumbled, burped a little, and continued, “Awake. How?” He stopped playing and crossed his arms, quietly sassing you, “Ah, she rises again. You regrettin’ anything yet?” You blinked and rubbed your eyes, scratching a little bit of paint off of your face and inquiring in a scratchy, tired tone, “I guess so… but- how? You, how?” Phil took off his guitar and stood up with his hands in his pockets, “Because I barely drank at all last night, and I also sure as hell didn’t shag Steve in someone else’s bed!” “How do you mean- I didn’t- wait- and Steve- what?” you rubbed your head, getting dizzy, causing Phil to guide you to the couch. “I didn’t- I didn’t shag Steve last night,” you insisted. “Mm hmm,” the guitarist hummed disapprovingly, “Alright.” “What the hell are you on about?” Phil smirked evilly and laughed, “He carried you upstairs, we heard the door close, and then some rather happy noises were heard, so we all just assumed-!” “That’s not-” you swallowed and lay your head back on the couch, “-a valid assumption.” “Oh, you poor thing,” came the sarcastic remark, “You really don’t remember, do you?” “Well I figured if I ever fucked any one of you I would- you know- remember it!” you raised your voice at him, then rubbed your temples. “I’m touched, really. But I’ll fill you in a bit,” Phil yanked up his guitar he’d put down, placed himself next to you, and played the into to “Ballroom Blitz”. Then a bit of the night came back to you. “Oh... that’s what started it all, didn’t it?”

~The night before~ Rick began banging out a tune on his drum kit in the house with you, Sav, and Steve sitting close by, them being at the ready with their guitars. “You ready, Steve?” you mimicked the original lyrics. “Uh-huh,” he replied exactly like Steve Priest in the original song. “Savy?” you said next. “Yeah,” Sav bopped his head to the beat. “Rick?” “Okay.” “Alright, fellas,” you called out, “Let’s go!” The two guitarists let their instruments ring out around the house, playing the all-too-familar tune. As soon as they started this, the front door opened, and none other than Phil and Joe walked in. Joe was holding a bag that was weighed down by the mass inside it (a painfully obvious sign that there were a few bottles of booze). Although the two of them weren’t talking, they were physically hushed upon hearing the situation you and the others had created. “Oh life’s been getting so hard, living with the things you do to me…” you sang lowly and quietly along with the music being made, just to make sure the musicians knew their places. You noticed Phil run out of the room in excitement, and into the one where he keeps his guitars. Joe, on the other hand, stayed put and watched the rest of you from afar, fighting a smile. “My dreams are getting so strange, I’d like to tell you everything I see…” You stood up, and Joe began walking towards you when you called out the next line of the song, “Oh- I see a man in the back, as a matter of fact, his eyes are as red as a sun!” Joe chimed in without warning at the next line, putting an arm on your shoulder and pointing at you, “And the girl in the corner, let no one ignore her, ‘cos she thinks she’s the passionate one!” *** “It’s, it’s a ballroom blitz, it's, it's a ballroom blitz,” Phil sang the ending teasingly to you when he put his guitar back. It felt like he was rubbing his energy in your face (since you lacked it). Before Phil could continue, Joe suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Yeah! It’s a ballroom blitz!” he announced, throwing his arms into the air and taking a bow. He sounded a bit tipsy still. Joe was wearing his Union Jack shorts, but no shirt. Instead of a shirt, though, he had the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” sloppily painted across his chest in blue and green paint. Right over his nipples there were also two handprints, almost exactly matching the ones on your face. Joe stumbled in the doorway, falling to his knees and groaning in discomfort, “Ohh... probably should’ve stayed in bed.” Phil sluggishly trekked over to the singer and pulled him partially to his feet, yanking him towards the couch, “Oh yeah? And by ‘bed’, you mean-?” “Definitely not the bathtub.” Joe assured him, but winked at you. “No matter where you slept, it’s still not as bad as where she slept,” Phil pointed at you, “And what she did there.” “Why? What’d you do?” Joe’s tipsiness wore away in his sentence, making him sound genuinely concerned and curious. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what Phil was going to say, “Phil, I-” “It’s not what she did, it’s who she did- she shagged Steve in my bed!” the guitarist accused you again while pointing a finger. Immediately Joe exclaimed, “Nice!” and held up a hand to high-five you. “Joe!” you scolded him, surprised that he took this as good news. “Oh-uh, not… nice?” he took away the offer of a high-five and scratched the back of his head awkwardly instead, “Also, is that my shirt?” You took a look down at the Union Jack tank top you were wearing and back at Joe’s torso. Then something clicked in your head. “Ohh…” you continued staring at Joe’s chest, feeling yourself blush as old memories unraveled in your head, “I think... I think I remember something else that happened last night.” *** You were all drunk; it was no lie. After your quick jam session, there was a booze-filled music fest going on in the house. Joe had even put on his Union Jack outfit, pretending he was getting ready for a show. At one particular point of this “festival” you'd all created, records were being played, and you ended up dancing in front of Joe to REO Speedwagon’s “Take It On the Run”. “You’re bringing up your white lines, you’re pullin’ on a bedroom eyes, you say you’re going home, but I won’t say when,” you sang the wrong lyrics as you swayed and drunkingly made flirty faces at Joe on the couch. Sav, meanwhile, was playing with some old craft paint off in the corner. The blue and green substances were all over his hands (but somehow, one color managed to stay on each hand). “Yeah, you dance for him, Y/N!” Rick cheered you on from the kitchen as Steve and Phil sat on the couch. Phil was perfectly sober, and Steve was giggling and laying with his head on Phil’s lap. You, on the other hand, were now moving closer to the singer, almost like you were giving him a lap dance. “You take it on the run, baby,” you sang along, slowly taking Joe’s Union Jack tank top off of him (with no objections from below), “If that’s the way you wanna, baby...” In return to Joe being shirtless, you slowly took off your own shirt (triggering wolf-whistles and cheers from the guys) to replace it with Joe’s tank. “Sav, mark him up!” you ordered the painted bassist in the corner as you tried to dress yourself. He happily made his way over to you and questioned, “What should I mark him with?” A single hazy idea came to you, and you eagerly whispered it into Sav’s ear. He giggled in response, and proceeded to move over to Joe, drawing something on his chest in the paint. To keep Joe from looking at what it was, you went behind the chair and covered his eyes, ordering coyly, “No peeking!” “All done!” Sav announced and retreated back to whatever he was doing in the corner. “Now, wait, Sav!” you sped over to him, lifted his hands up, and double high-fived him, getting the paint on your hands as well. To finish off what Sav had started, you ran back over to Joe on the chair, and slapped your hands on his chest, right over his nipples. Laughter erupted from everyone in the room (including Joe) and you repeated Sav’s words. “All done!” Joe gazed down at the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” on his chest as you continued to dance to the song playing. “You’re mine, now! You take it on the run, baby... if that’s the way you want it, baby...” Joe tried to tell you in a sexy voice, “Am I your baby now?” “If that’s the way you want it baby,” you repeated the words from the song to him, “Now I’m done dancing for you! Somebody dance for me!” Steve began pointing at everyone individually, childishly suggesting, “It should be, eenie, meenie, miney, Phil!” “Why me?” Phil laughed in objection as you took a seat across the room. “Because you’re not wasted,” his terror twin argued, poking him on the nose. The sober guitarist looked over at you with happy anticipation, awaiting a comment, while all you did was wiggle your fingers at him with a goofy grin. After that, you returned the gesture to the man on his lap, giving Steve a sexy wink. *** “Oh my god...” you put your head in your hands shamefully as Phil and Joe giggled at the memory of the previous night, “I can’t believe I did all that...” “That was a treat!” Phil laughed, hugging you from the side and pulling you closer to him in consolation, “It was funny! We never get to see that side of you!” “There’s a certain reason why you don’t...” you moaned with embarrassment, then asked out of guilty curiosity, “How many times did I grab your ass during that lap dance...?" Phil thought for a bit before telling you, “Four. Well- four and a half...” You gave a loud groan of protest as Joe laughed and slumped back into the couch. “Oh, you only did those things because you weren’t thinking!” Phil consoled you, swayed back and forth with you in his arms. Joe chimed in, “Yeah, and see what happens when you don’t think? You do! Most importantly, you do Steve!” “I didn't do Steve!” you shot your head up and yelled at Joe. You received only laughs and snorts from both men in reply. Suddenly, Sav appeared on the staircase and began singing “Squeeze Box” by The Who with a tired yet cheeky smirk, “Mama’s got a squeeze box she wears on her chest, and when Stephen comes home, he never gets no rest-” Joe and Phil joined into his song with, “Cos' she’s playin’ all night, and the music’s alright! Mama’s got a squeeze box, Stephen never sleeps at night!” You just put your head back in your hands, trying not to accept your fate of being teased. You didn’t want to think that you possibly shagged Steve. He always seemed so innocent to you in a way, and you feared that this would kill your friendship. If everything the boys said was true, you would never hear the end of it, and you don’t even know what Steve would think of you from now on. Was it possible that he remembered anything about the night before? “It didn’t happen, it didn’t happen...” you repeated to yourself in a whisper as Phil unwrapped his arms from you. Sav came all the way down the stairs; his body language making him look grumpy with the world, but his tired grin signaling that he was pleased with seeing you. “Oh, it happened, sunshine!” the frizzy-haired bassist laughed, but quickly regretted it and rubbed his head with his still-painted hands, “Ah- yep, it happened. You could probably hear you two up the whole damn street.” As Sav wearily joined you all on the couch, Joe complained, “Sounds like that was a treat; I wish I remembered it!” Phil was caught off guard at the comment. His head turned to Joe in the blink of an eye and gasped, “Wait, you don’t remember hearing them?!” “I wish I could say I do, but there’s nothing there,” Joe stood up after he spoke, and quickly held onto the wall nearby. His hand went over his stomach as he whined, “Oh... fuck, Y/N, why did you make me race you last night?" “'Race me'?” you squinted as you inquired, “Race you with what?” Joe didn’t answer, but slowly took steps into the kitchen, using the wall as his guide. His answer came when you, Sav, and Phil all heard him throw up into the sink. You sighed, resting your hands over your eyes, trying to remember the cause of Joe’s sickness, “Oh no, was that really my idea?” *** “Look what I found!” you trotted into the room tipsily, holding two bottles; one of scotch, one of vodka, “Only half full! Who wants em?” While you weren’t full-on drunk, it was no secret that the title wasn’t that far away. After your little Ballroom Blitz, it was one beer after the next, then it was digging into the fancy liquors that Phil and Joe had just brought home. Your judgment was impaired, no doubt about it, and so was the judgment of all the guys. Joe even changed into his normal live-show-only Union Jack tank top, claiming that he was gonna "put on a show." The only one who was still sane and sober was Phil, who seemed to be staying away from your poison. Upon registering your sacred offer of alcohol, Rick ran forward, chanting, “Me! Me!” You lifted the bottles away from him, commanding, “Uh-uh! I get the scotch.” “Oh, bollocks, then you can keep the vodka,” the young drummer grumbled and turned away from you. Just as Rick rejected your offering, Joe sprung up and eagerly trotted over while shouting happily, “I’ll take it!” “Sold!” you handed the bottle over to him, “Betcha can’t finish before me!” “Betcha I can!” he sneered back before taking the cap off his bottle. There was no official “ready, set, go” for the race; you both just kind of went for it without any saying. While your throat and stomach were already protesting your actions (and you could almost sense that Joe’s were doing the same), you didn’t stop once; neither of you did. You held up your bottle and announced, “Done!” Looking over, you saw Joe was also finished. “I finished first!” “Nuh-uh!” you insisted, “It had to be me! Tell him, guys!” The four others hadn’t been paying attention to you and Joe’s little competition; they were instead focused on a box that Sav had pulled out from a cupboard. From the box they pulled out bottles of paint and various types of used makeup.

Joe scolded them all in a more sober manner, “Oh come on, you lot weren’t even watching!” “Yeah, yeah, it was probably a tie, anyways,” Rick chuckled, pulling out more items from the box. “This box is much more interesting, too," Phil protested, holding up a stick of lipstick as Sav held up two bottles of paint, "This is a box of makeup that I had for me and the lads in Girl! Just look at it all! Think we can have some fun with this?" "Oh, piss off," you threw the empty bottle onto the couch, "We need some music." Joe had slumped down onto a chair, and you stumbled your way over to the shelf with all the records on it, flipping through and eyeing them all as carefully as your body would let you. After only a few seconds of searching, your eyes lit up at a discovery. "Here's a good one!" you exclaimed as you pulled out a copy of Hi Infidelityby REO Speedwagon, "Let's give it a spin!" ***

Joe wandered back into the room and fell onto the empty couch with a grumble. “Sorry, Joe...” you muttered over to him, realizing that you pressured him into more consumption of the booze. “It was probably gonna happen anyway...” he admitted, wiping his hands over his face, “It’s was my stupid choice to go through with it.” “Woah,” Phil pointed out out of nowhere, looking at you with great surprise, “What’s that on your neck?” You felt your heart drop into your stomach. “What!?” you shot up from where you sat (bringing on more dizziness), and rushed over to a mirror. Once your dizziness subsided, and you could finally see your reflection, the pink shape of a hickey on the side of your neck was now clearly conspicuous. You wondered how you hadn't noticed it before. Joe exclaimed with a smug and proud grin, “Is that from Steve!?” You groaned angrily, feeling yourself become more and more defeated. “I can’t believe it,” you gasped, slapping a hand over the mark, “Something did happen between us-!” “Y/N,” Phil pointed out again, “There’s lipstick on your thigh...” Looking down at your legs, you saw that he was right. There was a single red symbol on your right thigh that marked a kiss from the night before. Upon seeing this, what you saw when you woke up popped into your head. “Looks like Steve went to town down there,” Sav smirked at you, only wanting to rub it in more. “Guys,” you softly noted, “That wasn’t Steve... he has lipstick marks all over his face from someone else...” The three men all exchanged confused looks with each other. There was a dead end to the story of the previous night. None of them knew how to solve the mystery of the lipstick. Not even Phil, who was as good as sober 12 hours ago, didn’t have any input. Sav suddenly blurted out, “Wait a minute, I know what happened- I think...” No one said anything, but eagerly leaned forward, ready to hear the tale the bassist had to tell. “You lot remember how we found that box of old makeup last night?” he began, “Well, I walked into the bathroom with you afterwards, Y/N...” *** Rick looked at himself in the mirror in the bathroom, carefully applying the makeup to his lips, and being extra careful to not get it on the blazer he was wearing. The drummer put on his best suit just to see how it would look with the makeup he was putting on. He thought he was doing a good job for the most part; he didn’t look half bad at all! It was far easier than he expected it to be, and wondered if he was good enough to help you with your makeup at times. Thinking of you seemed to have made you appear in the doorway next to him. Both of your hands were still covered in paint. “Sink,” was all you commanded of the drummer. He moved without a word and you began to wash your hands. At the same instant, Sav appeared nearby. He grabbed the doorframe and began to swing from it, leaving conspicuous handprints afterwards. “Aren’t you gonna wash up, too?” Rick crossed his arms to sass him. “Nah, I want the colors, they’re makin’ me feel- colorful...” Sav grinned, walking over to you at the sink, requesting, “C’mere.” You looked up, only to have your face taken in Sav’s paint-covered hands. He softly giggled as you squared your vision in on him with a sneer. “Rude,” you teased, then went back to washing your hands; paint now all over your face. “What’s really rude,” Rick pulled back the shower curtain and taking a step into the tub, “Is you two interrupting my makeup time! Good night!” He sat himself down in the tub and laid himself down as if he was going to sleep.

Before he had the chance to catch some shut-eye, you marched over to the tub and objected, “Rick, if you’re gonna sleep, I want a goodnight kiss first.” Without another word, Rick sat up and planted a kiss on your thigh (since it was closest to him). There was now a bright red imprint of his lips on your leg. “Thank you.” you smiled down at him, “Now goodnight.” “Don’t leave the water on, you hear?” Sav nagged him, pointing a colored finger, “You’ll drown." Rick chuckled with his eyes closed, “I’ll drink myself out. I'm in a drinkin mood, anyways." “Oh yeah? You haven’t got a straw or anything,” the intoxicated bassist continued to argue with him. “Then don’t let me drown! Get one!" “I’ll get you one later. I’ll just-“ Sav burped, and continued, “I’ll write a note or something.” “Sounds good, mate,” Rick slumped further into the tub and pulled the curtain closed, “Now you gonna stay here all night?” “Actually,” you noted out loud to yourself, different alcoholic emotions boiling up inside you, “I wanna go downstairs- I just need to see Steve- like right now...!" You turned on your heels, speeding past Sav and flying back down the stairs. *** “So that explains the paint on my face, and the paper in the hallway, and the lipstick, but what happened after that?” you asked Sav, as you were now slumped on top of Phil’s arm again. “Beats me,” Sav ran his still-painted hands through his hair, “That’s all I’ve got.” “But wait, if you said that Rick fell asleep in the bathtub...” Phil began his sentence, only for you and the other two men to exchange knowing looks with each other. All four of you immediately sprung up and rushed (as much as you could) up the stairs and into the bathroom. Upon getting there, Phil flung back the shower curtain to reveal a partially awake Rick, dressed in a suit, and still wearing the lipstick from the night before. “Mornin’,” he groaned as he stretched, then winced, “Ah, fuck- sleeping in here wasn’t the best idea for me neck.” Sav looked back at the paint on the doorframe and asked the drummer, “So then why did you sleep in here?” “Oh,” Rick looked around the tub, stating as-a-matter-of-factly, “The porcelain keeps the suit from wrinkling. I guess drunk me was very careful last night.” “I’ll say,” Joe complemented, “The lipstick’s still holding up pretty well.” Phil halted the conversation, “Wait, so you were in here when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night?” Rick chuckled, “Yeah, and let me tell you, for a smaller guy, you’ve got a big bladder.” “Wait,” you slowly turned and pointed at Joe, “I thought you said you slept in the bathtub-?” He gave you a cocky smirk in return, “I told you, ‘definitely not the bathtub’...” Rick sleepily laughed and pointed at you, “Ha- Y/N, you look like Joe!” “Why, just because of the shirt?” you inquired, pointing at Joe’s tank top on you. “And the paint!” Rick corrected you, “I can’t believe you guys didn’t wash it off yet!” In a second, you felt a rush of worry upon realizing that Rick hadn’t said anything about you and Steve yet. It made you suddenly come to the possible conclusion that he may not know about it all. “Wait,” Phil snapped his fingers, “So you do remember some stuff from last night?” “Yeah, a bit, I think. Why?” “Philip Kenneth Collen, don’t you fucking dare....” you growled at him in an almost pleading manner, rubbing your temples and grinding your teeth. “What do you remember?” Phil asked him, not giving any sort of reaction to your begging. Rick thought for a few seconds, clearly as hungover as the rest of you. It didn’t take him long to list off some brief happenings he recalled. “Well, I remember us singing Sweet, there was a lap dance, I remember- uh, being denied a bottle of scotch, there was, uh... there was lipstick... and did I try to ice-skate on pieces of cardboard down the hall...?” “Is that why there’s cardboard all down the hallway?” you motioned towards the door. Rick gave you a big proud smile and a nod in response. “So...” Joe looked around, definitely looking eager, “What’s the last thing you remember before falling asleep?” Rick rested his head back on the tub again, thinking as hard as his hungover mind would let him. You hoped to every god there was that he didn’t say anything about Steve. “Just Phil comin’ in here and having a long piss, that’s all.” came the verdict. “You sure you didn’t hear-“ Phil anxiously began to ask him, but got a hand slapped over his mouth by you. “No!” you yelled on impulse, sending more daggers through your burned-out head. All eyes were now on you, and silence fell. For a few tense seconds, you stared into Phil’s eyes, sending him visual messages of both threats and desperate requests. “...what the hell happened last night?” Rick broke the silence in a tone of utter confusion, knowing that something more serious than what he remembered had taken place. You pulled your hand back from Phil’s face, “Yuck, Phil, come on!” “You licked her hand, didn’t you?” asked Sav. “Yes,” Phil confirmed, and continued without missing a beat, “And I’m glad you asked that, Rick, cos' I know what happened after Y/N and Sav paid you a visit last night.” “Phil, if you love me in any way, shape, or form, you will not tell Rick what happened,” you begged to him as you began to walk out the bathroom door, heading back downstairs to wallow in more of your shameful hangover, “I refuse to believe it happened until there’s hard proof.” “Well what more proof do you want? A positive pregnancy test?” Phil shrugged, but suddenly slapped his own hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just said. You shot him an angry look. You were too tired to have it out with him, so you stumbled away. Right about now, you were ready to give up and accept the fact that you probably did shag Steve. Phil turned to Rick, gaping, and slowly began to speak again, "Right... so last night, after those two were in here, I think that’s when they came back downstairs..." *** "So why are you tying up my hair again?" a drunk Steve asked Phil, who was happily putting his hair into pigtails. "Because I knew you’d look pretty, and I knew you wouldn't object, either," the other guitarist laughed evilly as he finished tying the second bundle of golden locks together, "There, you're all done now." "Cool... I think," Steve tilted his head, staring at himself in the mirror on the wall as footsteps began pounding their way down the stairs. "I think you look pretty, Steve. Pretty, pretty, pretty," Joe giggled as he was flipped off by the pig-tailed guitarist. As this happened, you trampled the stairs in your descent, calling out, “Steve- Steve! Come here!” More than happy to be ripped away from Phil’s pigtailed plans, he let you run up to him as you belted out, “I’ve got an idea...!” He didn’t say anything, but he did let you whisper something in his ear. The second he heard your idea, his eyes lit up and an evil smirk crossed his face. Steve was always in the mood for causing terror. You pulled back and exchanged the same look of understanding with the guitarist. He stared at you with a sort of appreciation, and without another word, swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal style now. With a quick smooch to your lips, he began carrying you up the stairs as you giggled with some sort of glee. Phil’s jaw dropped, looking at Joe with astonishment in the process. The singer’s face mirrored the exact same expression. “I should’ve bloody known...” Phil gasped in astonishment, “She’s been eyeing him up real funny all night... I can’t fucking believe it!” Sav came down the stairs slowly, his life depending on the railing as he dragged his hand on it. He left a long streak of blue paint as he did so. “What’s gotten into their pants?” “Each other, apparently,” Joe scoffed, taking a sip of a beer he found, “Lord knows how the hell that happened.” *** You were all sitting back on the couches in the living room, all seemingly regretting the night before (you knew you most certainly were). Everyone knew that the end of Phil’s story was the true ending of the night. Now there was really a dead end to the whole tale. “I can’t believe it,” you whispered with sorrowful acceptance, “Me and Steve...? What happened next?” Joe scoffed, “Well that’s kind of a stupid question.” “That’s where it ends, Y/N. I went up to bed afterwards, only to hear-“ Phil cleared his throat to impersonate you and Steve, “‘Oh, Steve! Yes!’ coming from my room! So after an immense helping of disapproval, I slept in Rick’s room.” “No, no, that can’t be it!” you insisted, “Guys, what really happened next?” “Can’t say,” Joe mumbled, holding his head. “Sorry, mate,” Rick apologized. Sav remained silent, but looked apologetic. “That can’t be where it ends...!” you persisted, “Sav? Tell me I’m right!” Sav rolled in his lips, and darted his eyes away from you. You continued to stare at him suspiciously, but no one else thought anything of it. Phil tried to finalize your fate sympathetically, “Give it up, Y/N, at least it’s all over now.” “But it still happened! What am I gonna say to Steve when he wakes up? You know what- no. It didn’t happen, I refuse to believe that it did.” “How much more proof do you want?” Rick shrugged, pointing at Phil and Sav, trying to make you face the terrible truth, “They both heard ya, and Steve even gave you a hickey.” You hung your head, thinking you might just decide to cry out of shame. Yes, you loved Steve, just as you loved anyone else in the band, but you never had (or planned to have) any sort of sexual relationship with them. Even if you ever did, you were afraid it would ruin everything your friendship had stood for. “Sav, what’s wrong, mate?” Joe asked out of the blue. The bassist in question was still avoiding the conversation, staying eerily silent and weaving his hands together. At this point, you noticed that he was also blushing. “That wasn’t Steve.” he stated bluntly, still not looking at you. “What wasn’t Steve?” you asked as you stared at him dead on, your heart now pounding. “That hickey... that wasn’t Steve,” he paused, “That was me.” Immediately you gasped and slapped a hand over the mark on your neck. “What?!” the other three exclaimed. Joe and Rick immediately hissed at the searing pain their outbursts caused. “Sav, what the hell?!” you scolded him, finally happy that you weren’t the only one being called out for their mistakes. “Now before you say anything else,” he finally looked at you and held up a hand, “It was your idea.” Your face fell, softly asking him, “What do you mean?” “Well, after you and Steve-you know- and only Joe and I were downstairs, you actually came back down, too- wipe that smug look off your face, Joe. You’re not entirely innocent here, either.” *** You stumbled down the stairs, giggling to yourself. Your mission was now accomplished, and Steve was asleep upstairs. In a word, you were pleased. In two words, you were still drunk. Records were still being played when you returned to the living room, and Joe currently had his copy of Sheer Heart Attack on the turntable. “She Makes Me (Stormtrooper In Stilettos)”flowed softly from its speakers. “There’s our killer queen!” Joe cooed to you happily. He was now sprawled out on the couch, two empty beer bottles on the floor beside him. Sav wasn’t too far off. The paints on his hands were now dry, and he was reclined in a chair across the room, twiddling a bottle in his hand. They both looked ready for bed, and it made you wonder how they held out for this long. The singer slurred on with an interested smirk, “You two have fun?" Sav spoke up with a scoff-like laugh, “Sure sounded like it!" “Oh, you know it,” you gave them a wink, setting yourself down on the couch next to Joe, “Guess Phil finally ditched, huh?” “Yeah, the wanker went to bed- but you’ve lost your pants!” he gestured to your black underwear, made room for you to lay down with him, and took you in his arms like a teddy bear with a sigh of appeasement. You reached back and playfully poked at Joe’s dimple, “Steve's fault." “Well, that’s no good,” Sav objected, pushing the footrest of the chair in and returning to a sitting position. “What isn’t?” Joe asked him, "Steve gettin' into it with her?" “No, that cuddlin' you're doing- it’s boring. You stay like that, you’ll fall asleep on me!” He was certainly right about this. With you in Joe’s arms and his face nuzzling into your hair like some sort of animal, he was already falling asleep. “What do you want us to do?” you chuckled, thinking that Sav was only jealous of his friend. Joe mumbled happily into your hair, “How 'bout you just do me like Steve, and we’ll be good.” At this point, you noticed the feeling of something pressing lightly against the bottom of your back; a certain weight where Joe’s hips were, and a weight that wasn’t there at first. “Joe,” you whined at him, “You’re fucking gross.” He chuckled, then slowly moved his hips to lightly rub himself against you, a low quiet moan rising in his throat from the temporary pleasure it provided. “Ah- Joe!” you protested again, reaching back and hitting him as best as you could. You wiggled out of his embrace as he burst into giggles like he had just accomplished something. Sav, on the other hand, cringed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re even hornier than when you’re sober!” you grabbed a pillow and whacked Joe with it. “You’re one to talk! You just shagged Steve!” he smirked evilly, "Why not me?" “Ha! The only way I’ll do you is by some miracle, or at least a dare,” you threw yourself onto the other couch, picking up a nearly empty beer bottle and pouring whatever was left into your mouth. Sav’s eyes finally lit up, “That’s what we oughta do- truth or dare!” “Ooh, sounds like terrible fun,” you turned yourself so you were sitting upside-down on the couch, “Sav, truth or dare?” “How come he gets to go first?” asked Joe, “I wanna get down to business!” “Dare,” Sav declared, ignoring the singer’s objections. Immediately, your intoxicated mind thought of a scheme. Despite the plan you and Steve had executed ever so perfectly, you were still a child seeking more terror. You knew Joe wanted you, and it was no secret either, so how exactly would you use Sav to reign terror over him? You wanted something to rub in Joe’s face- something that would leave a mark on him. “I dare you to-" you clumsily pointed to your neck, "Gimme a hickey.” Joe's jaw dropped with offense and jealousy; exactly as you had expected. Sav began to laugh rather loudly at the request, and stood up, now understanding your true intention of making Joe jealous. “C’mere,” he motioned with his hand. More than happy to obey the command, you strutted over to him and paused, waiting for him to make the first move. He took a step so your bodies were practically pressing together, moved your hair out of the way on your neck, and dove right in. You smiled with glee, taking in the feeling of Sav’s mouth and tongue moving over your skin (as well as Joe’s groans of protest coming from a few feet away). As the bassist sucked on your neck without hesitation, it only made you think of one thing: “Wow, there’s definitely gonna be a mark after this.” *** Rick and Phil were staring at Sav with their mouths open in shock. You kept a hand over the mark he left on your neck to prevent everyone from looking any more than they already had. “So, wait, if it was you who gave me this, why didn’t you say anything before when we said it was Steve?” you asked Sav, more suspicious than outraged now. “I- ah, didn’t... wanna say anything...” he looked away, beginning to blush again, “I guess I was too embarrassed." “I think the only person who should be embarrassed is you, Joe,” Rick turned his attention back to the singer, “You fuckin dry humped her!” Joe exclaimed in his own defense, “Yeah, and I don’t even remember it! It’s not my fault- I was drunk and horny!” “See! Just like me and Steve! I don’t remember shagging him, either! So I guess we’re even.” “Even Stephen,” Phil scoffed. You slumped into the couch more, staring blankly ahead and realizing, “So I pretty much got to second base with all of you last night...?” “I think you made it all the way home with Steve,” Rick pointed out. “Thanks, Rick,” you kept your head hung, “I feel like a slut.” “You mean you’re not?” Phil joked, only to be hit in the arm by Sav.

Just then, you all heard the sound of movement upstairs. Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold; Steve was awake now. Everyone's jaws hit the floor, and for a second, you thought they were all afraid of what you were fearing. "He's awake..." Rick announced in a sing-song voice, teasing you. “Oh no...” you gasped quietly, “Oh no, oh no! Oh god, what am I gonna do? What am I gonna say to him?!” “Hate to break it to ya, but this isn’t necessarily our problem!” Joe shrugged in a panic, hearing Steve’s footsteps get closer. “But guys! You’ve gotta help me! You’re his best friends! What should I say to him?!” “Just act like it didn’t happen! Maybe he doesn’t remember-?” Sav proposed. Rick suggested, “Just straight up ask him if he remembers anything!” “Just get out of here!” Phil made a swatting motion towards the other room. “None of those are gonna do me any good! It still happened!” you yelled at them in a whisper, “I have to live that with that fact, even if neither of us have any memory of it to live with!” It was too late for any salvation; Steve was already at the top of the stairs. The band members held their breath, and- without words or warning- all scrambled out of the living room. “No!” you whispered, “Guys- wait!” You caught Rick by the wrist when he stood up. “Rick, c’mon, please don’t leave me here!” you begged. He yanked out of your grip and apologetically condemned you, “Sorry, Y/N, but this is your business.” As the four of them retreated, you tried to bolt after them. As soon as you hit the doorway, however, Phil turned around and pushed you back on the couch nearby as slowly as he could. It was so sudden that you were on your back before you knew it, and they were all gone. “Hey!” you called out after them, “Assholes!” Steve’s voice suddenly came to your ears (rather closely, too), “What’s their problem?” You jumped, “Ah- Steve!” He had a silent step, and made it down the stairs and across the room without making a sound. He also looked just as he did a little while ago when you first woke up; scraggly hair, lipstick stains all over his face, but no visible evidence of a hangover. “Hey, wow,” you forced an awkward chuckle at him, “Nice- uh, nice- lipstick...” Steve slumped down onto a chair and grumbled, “Thanks. Who even did this to me? Doesn’t look like it was you.” “That was, that was Rick- I’m assuming... I don’t remember that happening and I don’t think he does, either. He’s still got the lipstick on, too.” He played off the remark with a tired smile, “Oh, nice... last night really was something, wasn’t it?” Heat rushed to your face, and you tried to look away without being conspicuous. “Ha ha... yeah... really something!” you faked your amusement for him, now wondering if he was implying anything about the previous night. Steve leaned forward and asked, “Do you remember Sav and the paint? That was pretty funny, wasn’t it?” Still blushing, you darted your eyes around the room and nodded in agreement, “Mm hmm, yeah... he was like a toddler or something.” He sunk back into the chair again and closed his eyes, reminiscing about the events of the previous night. For a second you thought you were in the clear, and that maybe he didn’t remember the specific event that Phil and Sav did.

That illusion was shattered when his eyes snapped open, whispering “Wait a minute”, and sitting back up. Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach.

“How did our plan go?” he questioned quietly, figuring that the others were still somewhere nearby and listening. “P-plan?” you stuttered, partially afraid of what he meant, but partially caught off guard, “What plan?” “You know-” he whispered again, thinking you remembered, “It was your idea. Did they believe it? We were convincing enough?" You darted your eyes down to the floor, confused, but also embarrassed. 'Convincing'? What did that mean? "Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t remember!” he smiled playfully. As you stared at him with fearful confusion in your eyes and redness on your cheeks, his smile was suddenly wiped away. He muttered under his breath as his face fell, "Oh... you don't remember... bloody hell, okay, this is gonna be hard to explain..." "Then explain it, because I'm really fucking confused..." your voice wavered with a sarcastic chuckle. Steve sighed and leaned forward, slowly weaving his hands together. He didn't know where to begin. "This is one of the few things I remember from last night..." he started off, "And there's no way to make this sound... good... in any way, but you came up with the idea of us pretending to shag- like making noises and shit like that- to trick the others into thinking we really did. For some reason I thought it was a great idea, and I'm pretty sure I carried you upstairs, too.” Instantly, a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. It wasn't real; you didn't shag Steve, and he could even tell the guys himself! You blew out a big sigh of relief, and slumped back into the couch, closing your eyes. "Oh, god," you slowly panted, "What a huge relief- I suppose we were really convincing, then." "Why d'you say that?" You laughed tiredly, now feeling rather thankful for your raging hangover, "The guys are all convinced that we fucked last night. Only Phil and Sav seem to remember it, though. They've been hounding me about it all morning. I kept telling them it couldn't be true- and I was right!" "What, would it be so bad if we actually did?" he teased you in a hushed voice. "Well, I've had to live my day so far under the impression it did happen. I was teased, ridiculed, embarrassed, and felt guilty about it. I was afraid it'd ruin our friendship if it was true... I was kinda hoping you didn't remember so we could just forget..." The red in your face returned all over again. Steve, however, didn't seem bothered. "If you really want to, we can keep pretending it happened and steer into the act; give em' what they want." "What? No!" you laughed out loud, standing up, "You're crazy, Clark! I think I better go tell the others the bad news. They'll be disappointed-ha!" You walked across the room to go find the others and disclose unto them the "bad news", giving Steve a pat on the shoulder when you passed him. Once you were gone and out of sight, Steve also blew out a big sigh of relief. "She didn't remember anything," he thought to himself, "That was a close one." While he knew you two didn't go all the way the previous night, he figured if you didn't remember it, then it was for the best you didn't find out. It was nothing serious; just a bit of fooling around, really. Just a bit of drunked-up teasing, and nothing more. The guys had no proof that anything actually happened between you two, and you were about to tell them the partial truth anyway, so why say something to reignite the suspicion? After all, they were all hungover to begin with, so there wasn't much memory of the whole affair, either. "Thank god for these hangovers,"Steve thought, "Thank god. I couldnt've asked for anything more." ~Epilogue~ When you got to the top of the stairs, Steve put you on your feet and spun you around. "You ready?" he whispered, childish excitement in his voice. You nodded with equal excitement, "Take me away, Clark." The two of you began eagerly walking hand-in-hand to whatever room you pleased, but before either of you had the chance to pick one, the bathroom door opened, Rick popped his head out and commanded, "Stop right there!" Both you and Steve froze and looked at him. He still had his lipstick and his suit on, and a kind of serious look overtaking his face. A finger was kept in a pointing position at you, a few large pieces of cardboard were underneath his other arm, and he slowly took steps down the hall to meet you. Neither of you moved, but both of you waited. When Rick got to you, he didn't say a word, but did take Steve's face in his hands (dropping the cardboard in the process), and proceeded to the kiss the man all over his face.

Steve remained silent, and let Rick have his way until he decided to stop. When he did, there were several lipstick stains on various parts of the blonde's face.

"Thanks, mate," Steve muttered sarcastically as Rick kicked some of the cardboard pieces in different directions. He then stepped on two of them, trying to slide down the hall on them as if they were ice skates. When he got back to the bathroom, he went back inside and shut the door again.

Without another word, you turned Steve's face toward you, gave him a peck on the cheek as Rick had done, and kicked open the door behind you (which just so happened to be Phil's bedroom). You both fell back into the room, giggling with makeshift lust in your eyes.

After all, you had to make this authentic, right?

#def leppard #def leppard fanfic #def leppard x reader fanfic #def leppard x reader #steve clark #phil collen #rick savage #rick allen #joe elliott #original content #i'm still proud of this ngl #it was hard tying up the loose ends but i had a LOT of fun writing this throughout 2018

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bts-bay-bee · 4 years

Text

blue

↳ pairing: park jimin x reader

↳ genre: smut, fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you squint

↳ summary: teaching your cold boss to love might just be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

↳ warnings: CEO!jimin, cold!jimin, dom!jimin, assistant!reader, cursing, male masturbation, fantasizing (?), vaginal fingering, oral (male and female receiving), cum eating, marking, daddy kink, pussy slapping, praise kink (kinda?), choking, handcuffs, nipple clamps, clit massager, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation (slight)

↳ word count: 13 066

↳ meaning of blue: heaven. authority. cold. wet. slow. depression. trust. intelligence.

“Is he here yet?” You asked, out of breath as you ran to your desk at work. The office secretary shook her head, no, making you sigh out in relief. You had been massively late for work which ended up with you running up the many flights of stairs – in heels – deeming the elevator too slow to get you to your office.

You flashed the office secretary a huge smile, hoping that would further prod her to cover up for your tardiness, before walking over to your office, which was conveniently located right next to your boss’s much larger, much sleeker office.

Park Jimin had been your boss for the better part of five years now. You had undertaken the job when you had finished high school, looking for anything and everything to bring any amount of money into your bank account. University tuition fee statements were your personal version of hell; the obscenely large number crushed any of the dreams you once had. But then came along Mr Park.

When he had seen your curriculum vitae, he had immediately been intrigued. Back then he wasn’t CEO of the company, but he had started to quickly move up the proverbial ranks, which allowed him to finally acquire a personal assistant to handle the lesser tasks. A high school graduate – with straight A’s in every subject – hadn’t chosen to go to college? That’s what had made him so intrigued with you. In a few short hours after he had first reviewed your resume, you had gone through a short telephonic interview then you had been asked to come in for a trial period. One which you had passed with flying colours.

Jimin couldn’t help himself but ask about your lack of tertiary education. With a flushed face and shaking hands, you embarrassedly told him about your lack of funds. It was only embarrassing because here you were talking about your financial issues to a man who had a year’s worth of tuition on his wrist in the form of a shiny gold Rolex. Another year’s worth of tuition was probably wrapped around his ring finger, because of course no man as rich, successful and not to mention handsome wouldn’t have a wedding ring on.

Jimin’s wife, Irene – who you had only met a handful of times – was the complete opposite of the warm, caring man. She was cold and distant, even towards her husband, who was supposedly her high school sweetheart. How they managed to stay together for so long boggled your mind. Slowly, you started to see Jimin change. His once fond smile slowly disappeared, now being replaced by a cold, grim straight line. He stopped caring about the people he worked with. He even began to sneer at lesser workers, not bothering to greet the janitors or the office secretary.

Sitting at your shiny, mahogany desk you began to review emails for Jimin, sifting through the numerous subject lines and forwarding the emails to him so that he could take care of them. At around 10am you left your desk, realising that you had to make Jimin coffee. After adding the espresso shot and steamed milk into the coffee mug, you walked to the large door of Jimin’s office, knocking three times before waiting for a response.

“Enter.” His voice was clipped, meaning he was already in a foul mood.

You quietly pushed down the door handle and entered, your eyes trained on the floor as you made your way to his desk. Without speaking you placed the steaming cup of coffee in front of him, then began to make your way back to your office. Jimin hadn’t taken his eyes off of his large LCD screen, not paying you any attention. However, before you could take a step away from him, his cold, hard voice reached your ears.

“Take a seat, Miss L/N.”

Oh, you were screwed. There was no two ways about it.

“Yes, Sir.”

He never told you to sit after bringing him his coffee. Taking a deep breath, you turned back to face him and took a seat on the edge of the plush chairs. Jimin’s cold eyes still trailed over his monitor, making you squirm slightly from awkwardness. What did he want? He hadn’t asked you to sit with him since… Well, since before he was married. This just wasn’t something you did anymore.

After what seemed like hours, he lifted his eyes from the harshly lit screen, bring his eyes to your own. Flushing a light shade of pink, you cleared your throat and looked down again. You didn’t want to disrespect him by staring right back at him.

“Where’s your coffee?” He quietly asked, picking up his mug.

“I, uh… I didn’t make myself any, Sir.” You replied, eyes trained on your twiddling thumbs. He sighed, rolling his chair back slightly so that he was more comfortable.

“Don’t you want to go make yourself a cup? I need to speak to you about something.” Jimin said, loosening the tie he had dawned today slightly. You were frozen in the leather chair – had you done something wrong? Was he going to fire you? He noticed you hadn’t moved, which caused him to frown. “Is the idea of drinking coffee with me really that appalling, Y/N?”

“No! I just…” You began, wringing your hands nervously, your eyes still not leaving them. “Are you going to fire me?”

Jimin looked at you, stunned. “Why would think that?”

“Well… I was a little late for work today, and you asked me to sit down. You don’t ask me to sit down and have coffee with you, Sir. It was almost as if you were going to give me bad news.”

“I used to always ask you to have coffee with me, Y/N.” He replied, frowning slightly. He knew that you used to have coffee with him on a daily basis, usually to discuss the work for the day, but coffee, nonetheless. He also knew that at one point you used to meet his eyes when you spoke to him. When did that change? “Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“What did you want to talk to me about?” You asked, avoiding his question that you had no nice answer to. Did he really want to hear that his wife berated you repeatedly for working with him so closely? For looking at him when he spoke to you, and vice versa?

Jimin eyed you warily. “Are you sure you don’t want coffee?” You nodded wordlessly, only making him deepen his frown. Nevertheless, he ploughed on, settling on the fact that this was now what your relationship had been reduced to. “I have a promotion of sorts for you. Well, in actual fact, it’s just a favour for me. A rather large favour.”

“Sir?” You prodded, urging him to speak when he had stopped. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes out of sheer tiredness. He had been awake all night, thinking about how to ask you this.

“As you know, Irene and I have been separated for some time now.” He began, making you reel with shock. When did they split up?! And why did he think that you knew about it? “We recently decided to finalise it and get a divorce. She left last week. She left Ezra with me.”

Ezra is Jimin’s five-year-old son. Despite his mother being an absolute witch and his father turning colder with each passing day, he was still a respectful boy. Like Irene, you hadn’t really seen him that many times.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” You softly replied, not knowing what else to say. Where was this going? “I didn’t know this had been happening, Sir.”

Jimin shrugged, not really worried about the fact that he was divorced. That’s not what had been bothering him. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we were ever actually in love. Anyway, Irene isn’t what I need to speak to you about. It’s Ezra.”

“I’m sure this has been very taxing on him too.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You still didn’t know where this was going, and it was driving you crazy.

“He’s too young to really understand what’s been happening.” He replied, his jaw clenched, angry at himself for not being able to articulate why he so desperately needed your help.

“I, um… I’m not really the domestic type. I don’t know how to cook. I don’t know how to take care of a child. I’ve been dropping Ezra off at my parents every day since Irene left, but I don’t want him to grow up spending most of his day at someone else’s house. He should be at his home. And, I know, I can hire someone to babysit him, but he’s still so young to be left with strangers, and I don’t want to put his life in unnecessary danger. I mean, you never know what these people could be behind a façade –”

“Sir, where do I fit in?” You asked, amused at his rambling. This isn’t the cold CEO that you became used of. This was the old Jimin, the Jimin that had actually been interested about his employees, regardless of the amount on their pay cheque.

He cleared his throat, a slight blush on his cheeks. “I know that you’re not under any obligation to help me, but I trust you more than anyone else in my life, Y/N. I need… I need someone to help me with Ezra. Not just with Ezra, but with the whole domestic thing.”

“Mr Park, I still don’t know where I fit in.” You said soothingly, getting somewhat of an idea of what he was asking you.

He ran his hand though his styled blonde hair in exasperation. Why couldn’t he just say what he needed from you? “Move in with me.” Shit. That’s not how he had meant to phrase it.

You choked on nothing; the way he had blurted it out had surprised you, which ended up with you looking up at him with watery eyes from a lack of oxygen. He immediately jumped out of his chair and rushed over to you, lightly tapping your back until you could breathe easily again. Having him this close to you made you even more nervous than you already were. After your choking ordeal was over, he surprised you by taking a seat next to you instead of going to the other side of the desk. His cologne wafted over you, dosing you in his masculine scent. It honestly made you more nervous that you already were.

“Move in with you?” You repeated, in a small voice. Jimin looked mortified at your reaction, mentally bashing himself for even thinking of asking you this. But he was already in too deep to change the narrative.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Obviously, you wanted to help him – you want to help everyone around you. It was just who you were as a person. But how would it look? The world you lived in was a rather nasty, judgemental one.

“Sir… Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but what would people think? You barely finalised your divorce and you already have another woman moving in?”

“Just temporarily.” He weakly replied, embarrassment showing on his cheeks. “Of course, I know that this is such a huge favour to ask, I know it’s odd, but I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I wasn’t completely out of options.”

You bit your lower lip, then sighed. Curse your soft heart. Running a hand through your hair, you nodded to him. “We have a lot more to discuss, but when can I move in?”

***

“This is the living room… This is the kitchen… Your bedroom is upstairs, next to mine.” Jimin timidly said, scratching the back of his reddened neck. This nervous side of Jimin was quite new, and you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make you amused. Ever since you drove into the driveway five minutes ago, he had been stumbling over his words, tripping over nothing and wringing his hands.

“Sir, are you okay?” You asked before you could stop yourself. He caught your eye, opening his mouth to brush you off, but was left speechless when you didn’t shy away from his gaze. His mouth curved into a soft smile, realising that it was just you. There was no reason to be a nervous, rambling mess.

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He murmured, seeing the way your eyes danced with amusement. Who would’ve thought that the cold, cutthroat CEO would be rendered speechless from having his personal assistant in his home? “I’ve been thinking… I mean, you are essentially going to be living here for a while. I don’t want you to feel as if you’re forced to maintain a professional persona the entire time. Call me Jimin.”

“Okay, Si – Jimin.” You replied, quickly catching yourself. The feel of his name on your tongue foreign yet… Right. Jimin smiled at you, his nervousness of having you in his house now forgotten. Who would’ve thought that all it took to get rid of them was just one look into your eyes? But now his stomach was twisting for a different reason. Why did it flip when you said his name?

“Where’s Ezra?” Your question hung in the air as he abandoned any thought about the butterflies wreaking havoc in the pit of his tummy. Almost as if saying his name summoned him, the boy suddenly appeared to walk down the stairs. His dark hair was greatly contrasted by his honeyed skin; his cheeks so full that they gently shook with every step he took. Ezra was truly the miniature version of Jimin.

He bowed to his father almost a little too fast, making you raise your eyebrow. Upon setting his eyes on his son, Jimin stood up even straighter than he already was and lifted his chin, regarding Ezra with cold eyes.

“This is Y/N.” Jimin told the young boy, his jaw clenched. Jimin almost seemed angry at Ezra. “She’s going to be helping us while your mother is away.”

***

“Good morning, Ezra.” You sang softly as you slowly opened the curtains in his bedroom. You saw his eyes peak up at you through the covers of his grey blanket, then abruptly squint when the sun’s rays hit them. “Did you sleep well?”

“Hmm.” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The long sleeves of his blue pyjamas flopped over the tips of his fingers, only increasing the cuteness currently assaulting your eyes. You smiled at him, hoping that today was the day that he completely opened up to you – having already been here for two weeks surely must’ve made him somewhat comfortable with you, right?

“How about after you get bathed and changed, we have pancakes for breakfast?” You suggested as you ran your hands through his messy bedhead, smoothing the black tufts of hair. Ezra said nothing, instead he nodded at you, sleep still quite evident in his eyes.

After tidying up Ezra’s room, you walked into the kitchen with the intent of making some coffee for Jimin and yourself. As you put a couple scoops of ground coffee beans in the machine, you began prepping the ingredients for breakfast. If you worked fast enough, Jimin might be able to eat before he goes to the office. Humming as you gracefully moved throughout the kitchen, you quickly lost track of time.

“Are you… Making pancakes?” Jimin incredulously asked, eyes sweeping over the stack of pancakes that he found next to you on the counter. You hummed, flashing him a small smile, before going back to flipping the golden pancakes in front of you.

This was the first time that he had seen you in your natural state – usually you were already showered and changed before he even woke up, but today you just didn’t feel like keeping up the pretence. You were basically going to be living here for a couple more weeks – you didn’t feel like faking how organised you were as soon as you woke up. Even though you did feel kind of insecure and quite frankly embarrassed about the way you were dressed at the moment, Jimin felt totally different. Of course, he knew that you were gorgeous, but with your hair pulled in a messy bun and your thighs on display thanks to your sleeping shorts, Jimin just couldn’t help but stare at you.

His eyes studied the exposed flesh of your legs, unknowingly biting his plump lip when you turned around to get something from the cupboard behind you. Jimin only tore his eyes away from your unmarred skin when Ezra climbed onto the stool next to him.

You smiled at Ezra as you placed a stack of pancakes in front of him, the breath-taking curve of your pink lips were enough to make Jimin reciprocate the action, even though it wasn’t even being directed at him. When did he become to enamoured with you? Was it when you agreed to help him in his desperate time of need, or long before that? He couldn’t help but think that you were somewhat like a guardian angel – his own, personal angel, who makes his day a little brighter.

“Jimin? Jimin? Jimin!” You called, trying to capture his attention. He had spaced out, not realising that both you and Ezra had been attempting to talk to him. You nudged his shoulder gently, causing him to finally get out of his daydream and look at you confused. “We’ve been trying to speak to you. You kind of entered your own world there.” You explained to him, unable to prevent the tiny laughter from leaving your mouth.

Ezra had long since given up trying to talk to his father; any five year old child would want their father’s attention, but Ezra (even at his tender age) knew that his relationship with Jimin was somewhat strained; his father had already been corrupted by the cold CEO attitude to ever give him any attention. This was why Ezra was already almost done with his stack of pancakes – he didn’t want to spend any more time with Jimin than needed. Well, he knew that Jimin didn’t want to spend any more time with him than needed.

“I’m sorry, I was… Thinking.” Jimin apologised sheepishly, making Ezra confused. For as long as he had been alive, he hadn’t heard his father utter an apology. Not even to his mother. But Ezra was already confused – not once had his mother ever made him breakfast, let alone eat breakfast together. Was this what a normal family did every day? “What were you saying, Y/N?”

“I was wondering if it would be okay for me to take Ezra to the craft store today.” You repeated, nervously. “Ezra likes to draw and paint, and so do I, so I wanted to get us some more supplies –” Jimin didn’t even wait for you to finish before sliding his credit card over to you, making you look at him confused. “I wasn’t hinting for money, Sir, I just wanted to take Ezra with me.”

“I know, but please take it.” He murmured, dropping his gaze to the delectable stack of food in front of him. “And what did we talk about, Y/N? Stop calling me Sir. I’m not your boss here. Think of this as your home.”

“It’s just a habit…” You awkwardly explained, trying not to make too much a fool of yourself, as Ezra hopped down the chair and went to wash his hands. “It feels disrespectful to call you anything other than Sir.”

“I remember that you used to call me Chim before.” He muttered, thinking back to when you had first started at the company. You had been so playful with him, something that he misses dearly. His admission made you blush a deep scarlet. How did he even remember something as trivial as a stupid nickname?

As you opened your mouth to respond, you heard Ezra struggling to reach the faucet in the basin. Before you could turn to help him, he frantically hit the tap falling to the floor, subsequently turning the water on to a very high pressure. You suddenly felt water spray everywhere, falling all over the granite top, the floor, as well as you and Ezra.

You quickly shut the tap off, ignoring the water dripping down your face and checked to see if Ezra was fine.

“Are you okay, baby?” You murmured, wiping the water off of his face as his eyes filled with tears. “Did you get hurt?”

“Why didn’t you ask one of us for help?” Jimin asked in a firm voice, anger obviously showing on his face and in his voice. “Now look at what you’ve done!”

Ezra doesn’t respond to either of you. Instead, he took one look at Jimin’s face and ran out the kitchen, tears streaming down his face. You stood up and looked at Jimin in disbelief.

“It was just a mistake, Jimin. There was no need for you to speak to him like that.” You said stiffly, trying not to let your irritation shine through. You turned away from him, quickly cleaning up the water before ignoring Jimin’s silence and walking up the stairs into Ezra’s room.

Jimin really didn’t mean to do what he did. It came from years and years of being forced to be strict and abrupt with his employees. He meant to tell you that – he really did. But when you angrily snapped at him with a soaking wet, white shirt, he lost all train of thought. The water had turned the material see-through, showing off your plump tits, even flaunting the darker ring of your nipple. He was so lucky you were not there to see him frozen, mind unable to function from seeing your breasts.

‘Stop acting like some fucking schoolboy,’ he chided himself as he fixed his semi-hard length through his slacks, ‘you got hard after seeing her tits, for God’s sake. Pull yourself together.’

After checking the coast to make sure it was clear, he all but ran back into his room, hoping to hide his slightly stiffened member from you. As Jimin walked past Ezra’s room, he heard you soothingly reassuring the child that he hadn’t meant to shout at him. Hearing the way you had to quieten Ezra made his heart clench – you barely knew his son, yet you were comforting him after one of Jimin’s many outbursts. Of course Jimin didn’t want to compare you and Irene, the two relationships you shared with Jimin and Ezra were completely different, but she never cared for Ezra the way you do. She never bothered to notice that Ezra had been interested in art; hell, even he hadn’t noticed that.

Thoughts of how loving you are, how much you cared about people, filled his head for the rest of the day. His employees and business partners must’ve thought he had completely lost his mind: Jimin’s face had this faraway look the entire day, only changing when his mind decided to remind him just how delectable you looked this morning.

Jimin had been so out of it, so infatuated by you, he decided that there was no use being at work anymore. He wasn’t getting anything done anyway so that’s how he found himself driving back home early, subconsciously wanting to be back in your presence immediately.

“Y/N?” He called as he walked through the front door, loosening his tie. Not hearing your voice in response made him frown; you were usually waiting in the living room to greet him, with a steaming cup of coffee in hand and a bright, dazzling smile on your lips. He could care less about the coffee if he’s being honest. “Y/N, where are you?”

Silence once again met his ears causing him to frown deeper. Worry suddenly filled his every orifice. Immediately fishing his phone out of his pocket, his fingers almost went on autopilot, dialling your number before pressing the phone to his ear. His heart pounded in his chest when you didn’t pick up by the second ring. Where had you gone?

“Hello?”

“Y/N? Are you okay?! Where are you?” Jimin said loudly, almost yelling. His tone made you confused; you had told him that you were taking Ezra out today. Why was he so frantic?

“I’m fine, Jimin. Ezra and I just picked up some stuff from the store. Why are you asking?”

“I thought…” He couldn’t even finish the rest of his sentence because he didn’t know what he had thought. He cleared his throat, trying to clear your mind. “Never mind. Are you on your way back?”

After you reassured Jimin that you were indeed coming back soon, he let out a sigh of relief and ended the call. He didn’t know why, but not coming home to you felt… Wrong. You had only been here for two weeks, yet he can’t imagine living in this house without you; he sure as hell couldn’t figure out how he lived here with the emotionless statue that was Irene.

Jimin walked past into the kitchen with the intention of getting himself a snack but his eyes drifted to the sink, his mind betraying him by vividly reminding him of the way you looked this morning. God, the way your shirt had stuck to you, tempting him with the subtle curve of your waist, your voluptuous tits… Not to mention the way you had looked at him sternly. Everything about you made his head spin. Everything about you seemingly sent a rush of blood down to his cock.

Biting his lip, his mind veered into uncharted territory by imagining just how good you looked without the dripping wet shirt. He imagined kissing down your body, marking you as his, and his alone, then spreading your legs, suckling on your needy clit…

Before he knew it, Jimin was rock hard in his slacks from the mere thought of you for the second time today. He groaned when he felt his stiffness, irritated with himself because now he knew he had to get himself off, and he hated it. Jimin had only his hand to keep him company for the better part of two years now – himself and Irene hadn’t engaging in sexual activity whilst separated, despite living in the same house, and he couldn’t bring himself to bed anyone else whilst still legally married. Other than that, he found it humiliating to buy a sex toy in person, or even online – his company’s IT people could probably see his search history if they tried hard enough.

Jimin sighed, knowing that his erection was solely his fault. He trudged up the stairs, situating himself in his en-suite bathroom, before turning the shower on. He hated jacking off, but he might as well make the clean-up easy. Stripping out of his work clothes he quickly hopped into the shower, trying to ignore the almost painful stiffness protruding from his body.

Leaning his back and head against the tiled wall behind him, he allowed the water to cascade over him, relishing in the steaming hot water that soothed him. Jimin tried to not touch his boner for as long as he could but five minutes into the shower, he just couldn’t stop himself from gently stroking himself. He grabbed his shower gel, foaming up his hands so that it would be easier to jack himself off.

“Oh, fuck!” He groaned, taking his curved length into his slippery palm, moving back and forth on the sensitive flesh. Continuing the motion, he applied more pressure around his cock, relishing in the feeling of getting himself off. But he so wished it were you.

He wished it were your wet pussy squeezing and clenching around his dick, gripping him like a vice. He wished he could wrap your legs around his waist and pound into you, pulling on your hair and sucking on your neck, leaving deep purple marks so that everyone knew you were his. He wished he could paint the inside of your dripping cunt with his cum, making you hold it in and walk around the office with no panties, seeing evidence of his climax slowly drip down your legs.

“God, Y/N…” Jimin whined, his usually steely voice reduced to a pitched, needy moan. He wanted you so fucking badly, and he was so fucking close. His hand moved with a mind of its own – it doubled its speed, exerting itself to relieve Jimin. Throaty groans left his plump lips, bouncing off of the tiles and echoing throughout the bathroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Somehow squeezing tighter around his pulsating cock, he got more frantic. Jimin began bucking into his fist, ignoring how his wet hair stuck to his forehead. After a few more seconds of fucking into his hand, he let out a growl, his cum squirting up and landing on his toned stomach. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

***

“Why don’t you go up to your room.” You suggested to Ezra, ruffling his hair lightly as you walked into Jimin’s living room. He leaned into your touch, clearly affection-starved, making you frown. You’d have to talk to Jimin about that. You noticed just how cold and strict Jimin was with Ezra; of course it wasn’t your place to say anything about how someone raises their child, but it did become your place when said child has to look for comfort from you.

“Are you going to come paint with me?” Ezra asked timidly, one hand gripping the shopping bag filled with art supplies, while the other gripped your hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

“In a little bit, sweetheart.” You murmured, walking up the staircase that lead to the rooms. “Go set up. I just need to talk to your father about something.”

He nodded, only leaving your hand when you walked past his bedroom. You walked to the end of the hallway, planning on giving Jimin a piece of your mind for being so unloving towards Ezra. Without knocking, you entered the room hoping to find Jimin laying on his bed or something, but he was nowhere to be found.

“Sir?” You said quietly, before berating himself. Hadn’t he told you not to call him that? You cleared your throat, steeling your voice before calling loudly again. “Jimin?”

As you walked further into his room, you heard the shower running, indicating that he was already occupied. You decided to talk to him later, so you turned on your heel and began to walk out the room. Suddenly, you heard Jimin’s voice. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

Huh. Okay. Guess he was cutting his shower short for you.

You sat on the edge of his bed, elbow resting on your crossed legs and chin resting on your open palm. What if you were about to say something hurtful and he decided that he didn’t need you anymore? Maybe this was a bad idea.

In a split second, you decided that this conversation could happen another day, so you started to make your way out of his room. As you were about to lift yourself off of the luxurious bed, the bathroom door opened, letting steam escape the bathroom, and also allowing you to see your boss.

Your jaw dropped open seeing Jimin in nothing but a white towel covering his lower body. Water droplets streaked down his chest, down to his toned abs. Upon seeing them, you felt your mouth go completely dry… Oh god, his body looked like it was carved by the gods themselves. Jimin looked shocked, almost panicked by your presence, which was weird since he had told you he was coming out of his shower.

“I, um… I needed to talk to you.” You said, quickly, standing up hurriedly. “I was about to leave and then you said you’d be coming out the shower. I just assumed you wanted me to wait for you.” Jimin’s cheeks were tinged red, probably from the hot shower, paired with his second-hand embarrassment from you. “I’m sorry. I’ll just speak to you later. I’ll be in Ezra’s room if you need me.”

And with that, you practically ran out of Jimin’s room. You didn’t realise that you didn’t allow him to get a word in. Speed walking to Ezra’s room, you felt your cheeks heat up from extreme embarrassment – how, just how, did you think it was appropriate to check out your boss? Sure, you were living in his house, but it’s totally a different thing.

“Y/N?” Ezra called, confused when you rushed into his room and shut the door behind you quickly. You quickly took a deep breath to calm your radical breathing, then turned to the young child, putting on a dazzling smile.

“Yes, sweetheart?” You replied, seeing a smile forming on his lips due to your own. Your eyes drifted to the painting supplies that he had spread in front of him, all untouched, because he was waiting for you to paint with him.

“Did father give you work? Or can you come paint with me?” He timidly said, eyes full of hope. You felt your smile turn tender; you know that you only spent a few weeks with him, but Ezra had completely captured your heart. But paired with your tenderness, you felt yourself feel a pang of sadness: Ezra never called Jimin anything other than ‘father’. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but it just showed that their relationship wasn’t the best, nor were they the closest. God, how can you think about fixing their relationship when you were drooling over his father five seconds ago? You’re pathetic.

“I came to paint with you.” You reassured, swallowing hard to try and get that delicious image of Jimin out of your mind.

***

After you left, Jimin sat on the edge of his bed, extremely embarrassed that you had heard him jacking off. Sure, you didn’t exactly figure it out, but you had heard him nonetheless. He quickly found himself regretting doing what he did, not because you were his PA, but because you were obviously so innocent; even though he had caught you checking him out, he’s pretty sure that your mind didn’t extend to anything else. Unlike him.

He sighed, knowing that he had to face you momentarily. Park Jimin – a married man – had been thinking of his assistant, who’s selflessly helping him by living in his house, while he masturbated. How fucked up is he? What kind of person –

Stopping his self-derogatory monologue, he realised that he had nothing to be angry or ashamed about: he was no longer a married man, and as far as he knew, you were completely single. What was stopping him from advancing on you? It was almost as if a lightbulb had gone off in his brain. What was stopping him?

With his mind made up, he decided to quickly slip on some clothes, probably needing to make a better impression than just a towel hanging loosely from his hips, then walked down the stairs to where you were making dinner.

“Y/N?” He called, walking with purpose into the kitchen. His eyes fell to you chopping up some onions with Ezra quietly sketching something next to you. He suddenly felt awkward – the whole situation was too… Domestic for him. It was something that he never experienced.

But it was too late for him to change his mind. Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat and directed his gaze to Ezra. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

***

“Y/N?” Jimin called as he walked into the kitchen, seemingly angry. You immediately shrunk, thinking he was about to yell at you for waiting in his room. You felt nervousness fill your being at your pending doom. He turned his attention to Ezra, voice turning even harder. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

That simple command, ‘Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N’, was enough to bring back all your anger that consumed you earlier. Jimin needed to fix his relationship with Ezra, and he needed to fix it fast.

Ezra wordlessly obeyed Jimin, hopping off the chair from next to you and making his way up to his room. Once he was safely back in his room you turned to Jimin, meeting his cold gaze, you refused to back down. Ezra needed you now.

“Y/N, are you –”

“Why do you speak to him like that, Jimin?” You coldly asked, trying to match his usual tone. “That’s what I needed to talk to you about earlier.” He didn’t reply to you, seemingly shocked in your tone and words. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but it seems like no one else is willing to confront you about it. Ezra is just a child. It’s fine if you speak to me like that, I’m just your assistant, but he’s your child.”

“You’re more than just –”

“I wasn’t finished.” You said, visibly vibrating from fear, yet you still stood your ground. “You’re so cold towards him, Jimin. And why?”

He stood frozen in place, unsure of what to say. In the many years he has known you, you’ve never seemed so… Angry about something. You were almost a completely different person and it made Jimin feel unsure about himself for the first time in forever. He swallowed hard and broke eye contact with you, deciding to instead stare at the floor.

“I know that things must be hard because Irene isn’t here anymore, but you cannot allow that to effect Ezra.” You said softly, knowing that you had overstepped multiple boundaries. He opened his mouth to reply but found that he had no words to say. He had no excuse for his harshness towards Ezra.

Before you could say anything else – perhaps an apology, perhaps more wakeup calls for him – he quickly walked out of the kitchen, probably going to hide in his bedroom. You sighed, knowing that you were too harsh, yet also knowing that it needed to be said.

***

A few hours later, you still haven’t seen Jimin. He had been holed up in his room, doing God knows what, and didn’t even come out for dinner, which left you and Ezra to enjoy a quiet supper. But now it was late, and Ezra was currently knocked out in his room; apparently the shopping trip and then painting for hours was a little too much for his small body. The fact that he was sleeping was bad news for you – it left you to wallow in your thoughts, it left you to overthink.

Sighing as you turned on the shower, you began stripping and jumped into the shower, enjoying the soothing feeling of hot water caressing your skin. However, your relief was short lived as unwelcome thoughts of Jimin swam through your mind. It wasn’t your place to say anything; all you did was hurt him when he needed someone to help him.

‘I should probably apologise’, you mused as you rinsed soap off of your body, feelings of guilt and shame pooling in the pit of your stomach. Nodding to yourself, you quickly wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, before going back to your room, planning to quickly change into your pyjamas before going over to apologise to Jimin. Before you could do anything of the sort, you heard someone knock on your door, making you frown.

“Ezra, is everything okay –?” You began, tightening the towel around you before pausing. It wasn’t Ezra, it was Jimin. He looked exhausted, worried even. Before you could say anything, he beat you to it.

“I think I have feelings for you.” He blurted, causing you to look at him confused. You didn’t even get a word in before a look of realisation came over him and he all but bolted back to his room, leaving you with your mouth agape. What. The. Fuck.

“J-Jimin!” You called, now worried for his sanity. You definitely shouldn’t have yelled at him earlier. He didn’t look back at you as he hurriedly closed his door. Exasperatedly, you walked down the hallway, and opened his door.

He was laying on his bed, face buried into a pillow. If you weren’t so worried about him, you might have actually laughed at the situation. “Jimin?” You softly said, making him groan.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Just ignore whatever I said. Go back to your room.”

“Why are you apologising?” You murmured, shutting the door and walking closer to him, ignoring what he said. He sighed into his pillow; face still buried there.

“Please go. I can’t face you right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You said gently. “You need to learn how to express your feelings, Jimin. You can’t say something like that then run away.”

“I didn’t run away.” He grumbled, barely lifting his face off of his pillow to eye you out. This was so unlike the usual Jimin that you couldn’t help but feel worried. “Go get dressed, Y/N.”

“Then you’ll just lock your door so that I cannot get in.” You replied, suddenly acutely aware of your lack of clothing, making your cheeks heat with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively walked forward, placing a hand on his muscular back. “Jimin? Please talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine. Go to your room.”

“Stop acting like a child.” You chastised, realizing that this was the only way to get him to talk to you. “You need to get used to talking about your feelings. Yours and Ezra’s relationship needs open communication –”

“Y/N, I swear I’ll talk about my fucking feelings as soon as you get some clothes on.” He all but yelled, suddenly sitting up with his eyes running hungrily over your exposed legs. “I can’t tell you what I need to when my mind is set on tearing that God damn towel off.”

You froze, completely shocked that he could ever say such a thing, let alone to you. Quickly shaking off your astonishment and arousal, you knew this was just a ploy to avoid talking about his feelings. Brushing your hand on his cheek, Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut while his chest rapidly rose and fell. Unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t using this as some tactic to get rid of you: he genuinely couldn’t get his mind off of your luscious thighs, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth into it and mark you everywhere.

“Please…” He whimpered, leaning into your touch despite wanting – no, needing – you to leave. He didn’t know if you were at all interested in him, but if by some off chance you were, he didn’t want this to be the first time anything like that happened.

“Talk to me.” You whispered, worry and anxiousness blooming in your heart. What happened to the fearless, scary CEO? Where was he?

Within a millisecond you felt his hands grip your towel-clad waist, flipping you underneath him, allowing his toned thighs to trap your own bare legs. Your heart began to pound rapidly, only adding to the growing heat between your thighs.

“What do you want me to talk about?” He murmured as plump lips ghosting over your earlobe, resulting in a silent gasp to leave you. Why were his lips so soft? And why, oh God why, were you so responsive to his barest touch?

Gulping, you tried to move, knowing that Jimin wasn’t in the right state of mind for this. Even so, it was almost as if your body didn’t want to believe that; your arousal from him doing basically nothing was slowly becoming evident.

“Jimin, you’re not all there at the moment, we can talk about this in the morning –”

“No, you wanted to talk, so let’s fucking talk.” He snapped, running his hands over your calves, head buried in the crook of your neck and his lips ghosting over your pulse point. “Now what do you want me to tell you, Y/N, hmm? Want me to tell you that I want to bury my face in-between your legs?”

“Jimin!” You said, shocked at his lewd words. He didn’t even have the decency to look abashed, nor did he even pull away from your neck. Quietly kissing over your sensitive flesh, you began to feel goose bumps rise over your skin. He paid you no mind as his hands continued to roam over your exposed legs.

“Do you want me to tell you that I want to have my lips wrapped around your pretty little clit? Or how about finger fucking you until you’re cumming all over my hands? Hmm? Is that what you want, baby?”

As much as you wanted this, as much as you wanted him, you couldn’t allow him to do this. Not when he has such emotional issues. Tearing his lips away from your neck, you held his face securely between your hands.

“You’re thinking with your dick.” You firmly said, not missing the way his eyes were clouded with lust. He shook his head, trying to move back to ghost lips over your soft skin. “I cannot let you do something you’ll regret. I came here to talk about your feelings. You need to communicate with me.”

“Let me show you what I’m trying to say… You know I can’t… Use words for this.” He mumbled, feeling the foreign feeling of nervousness gnaw at him. “I’m not going to regret it, Y/N.”

Without waiting for a response, he removed your hands from his cheeks and instead cupped your own. “Can I kiss you?”

You were frozen, unable to think. Was this really happening? Did he really mean it?

Before you could answer him, you felt his soft lips gently ghost over your own, allowing you plenty time to move away if you wanted, before urgently pressing his lips onto yours. He tasted like mint, the fresh feeling making you sigh into his mouth. The tip of his tongue ran over your bottom lip, silently asking you to let him in. Tentatively parting your lips, you felt his tongue slowly slip next to your own, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting upwards to create a small grin.

‘Is this what it is supposed to feel like?’ he mused, feeling butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach. He never had this feeling of Irene; hell, they never kissed unless he was balls deep inside of her, and even then, affectionate kisses were few and far between. Kisses between them used to be a clash of teeth, sloppy, usually out of irritation and just to keep each other quiet because they had a child down the hallway, but this… This was different. This was right.

Pushing his nervousness aside, he took one corner of your towel and slowly pushed it out of the way, giving you plenty time to stop him if you were uncomfortable. You didn’t stop him; you didn’t push him away – and why would you? You wanted him just as much (if not more) as he wanted you. Threading your fingers through his hair, you began kissing him harder, no longer fighting against your need for him. Even though you knew he wasn’t serious about his feelings for you, the sexual tension was too much for you to handle, especially since he looked so delectable hovering over your now naked body.

“Knew you had fucking amazing tits.” He murmured to himself, breaking away from your lips to kiss down your neck and chest. Your towel lay underneath you, no longer a barrier between your bodies. He sucked hard on your chest, marking the flesh just above your nipple with a love bite, eliciting an audible gasp from you.

Your arousal had begun to slowly drip out of you, the sticky fluid making your folds glisten, something that wasn’t missed by Jimin. After trailing down the length of your body, he placed a kiss over your mound, his eyes never leaving your own. With your heart beating profusely, you watched with bated breath as his eyes left yours to settle on your dripping folds.

“You can stop me whenever you want.” He promised, struggling to contain his excitement at finally being able to taste you. Nodding at him, you watched as he spread your thighs, trailing his lips over the sensitive flesh, before abruptly sucking harshly on your inner thigh. He proceeded to do this to your other thigh as well, taking his time to get to where you needed him. After marking both your thighs, he soothingly ran his tongue over the bruised flesh, only adding to your frustration.

“Jimin…” You quietly complained, your pussy throbbing from lack of attention. He looked up at you, laying his chin on your stomach, with a small smile on his features, making your heart stop. He was so gorgeous like this: carefree, happy.

“I have to take my time.” He whispered sadly, his smile still on his face. “I don’t know if you’d want anything to do with me afterwards. You might leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promised, heart wrenching at how lost he looked. Before any more words could be said, before any more reassuring sentiments could be uttered, Jimin peeled apart your folds, strands of sticky arousal visible connecting your lips. Whilst locking eyes with you, he repeatedly licked up your arousal, spreading your folds further to get him what he wants.

His warm, soft tongue glided against your slickness, drawing soft sighs and moans out of you. Your fingers made their way into his hair, needing to feel him in some type of way as he so gently suckled on your dripping core. The pleasure engulfed your entire being, all curtesy of Jimin’s delicate mouth. Slowly, you felt him prod a finger at your honeyed entrance, resulting in a moan being drawn out of you.

While he slowly worked his finger into your core, he leaned up and kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. As you sucked on his bottom lip, making him chuckle at you, he inserted another finger into you, making you clench around his digits.

“Shit, baby, you’re so tight.” He groaned, feeling you contract on his fingers. “When’s the last time anyone stretched you out?”

“Jimin!” You moaned, feeling him massage that spongey flesh inside of you while his thumb rubbing loose circles over your slightly swollen clit.

“As much as I want to hear your moans, I need you to be quiet, baby.” He murmured onto your lips as he continued his actions. You whimpered into his mouth, unable to contain yourself. “Think you can be quiet for me?”

He didn’t wait for a reply; instead, he removed his hot mouth from your lips and placed it right on your clit, sucking harshly. Throwing your head back from the white-hot pleasure, you bit down your moans, wanting nothing more than to please him and be quiet.

“Pussy taste so fucking good.” He praised whilst smirking, a result of you bucking your hips further into him while biting your lip, silently asking for more. Suddenly, he gripped your hips tightly and pressed the flat of his tongue over your leaking cunt, collecting your arousal on his taste buds before swallowing the nectar down, eventually abandoning the movements to stick his stiffened tongue in your entrance repeatedly. His tongue fucked you mercilessly, relentlessly, all the while rubbing forceful circles on your clit. Pressure continued to mount in your abdomen, only amplifying the extreme pleasure Jimin was inflicting on you.

“J-Jimin… I’m going to…” You whimpered, your hands tangled in his hair as he suddenly added two fingers in you, using his mouth to suck on your clit harshly, almost painfully. He spread his fingers into a V, stretching your tight walls, kick starting your climax.

Your body arched off the bed, pushing your exposed breasts into the cool air. Jimin worked you through your orgasm, his tongue and fingers not relenting as you continuously convulsed around him, your cum sliding down into his tongue. Your cunt throbbed, the pleasure foreign after not being stimulated for so long, yet he didn’t stop. Continuing his actions, he began to lick thick, bold stripes with his tongue, giving no sign of stopping, despite you ceaselessly pulling on his hair out of sheer overstimulation.

“Jimin, Jimin, stop!” You whined, feeling the euphoric feeling evolve into something different. Because of your begs and pleas, his tongue relented; removing it from your pulsating clit to your lips. Tasting your cum on his tongue made you whimper, the mere thought of you tainting him was already turning you on again.

His plump, pink lips never left your own, even when he switched from hovering over you to laying next to you, using his hands to continuously rub and knead your soft thighs.

“You did so well for me, baby.” He praised, pulling you over his lap, making you straddle him. Subconsciously, you began to grind down onto him, feeling his hard cock through his pants. Letting out a strangled moan, he forcefully held your hips to prevent you from rubbing your slightly swollen, still glistening folds over his length. “We don’t have to go further, Y/n. Too much has been left unsaid. I just had to have a taste of you before you…”

“You still haven’t told me if you meant what you said.” You whispered, not at all feeling awkward still being the only one who wasn’t fully clothed. “You need to get better with your emotions.”

“I –” He choked out before looking away with tears in his eyes, causing your heart to clench. “How am I supposed to do this?”

“Don’t cry, Jimin.” You whispered, using the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the small tear that fell. “Just tell me how you feel. I won’t judge you. You’ve never judged me, right? You stood by me when no one else would. I’ll never forget how much you helped me, despite not even knowing me.”

He slowly turned back to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and holding you tightly. You felt silent sobs wreck through him, bringing forth tears to your own eyes; but you couldn’t cry, not when he needed someone, anyone, to be there for him. While allowing the sobs to die down and ignoring the sudden wetness on your neck, you stroked his hair soothingly, wondering when’s the last time anyone encouraged him to let out his emotions, encouraged him to cry. You didn’t rush him. You knew this was more than just him and you – it was Ezra, it was his lack of emotion and affection to everyone around him.

“I’m ready to listen whenever you’re willing to talk, okay?” You whispered, softly kissing the top of his head. The action caused him to immediately tighten his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close. After a few moments, his croaky voice rang through the room.

“I feel like the worst father in the world.” He admitted through his tears, small sniffles leaving him. “I know I should be doing better, but how? I don’t know my own son, Y/N. You’ve barely moved in and you know more about him than me. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be affectionate.” He spat out the word, his tears drying on his cheeks.

“You seemed to know how to be affectionate with me…” You said quietly, pointing out how he had become so caring when there was a sexual element. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

“That’s different.” He admitted. “I know what you like, I know how to make you cum, I know the right things to say... That’s just sex. It’s easy for me to do all those things, but anything other than that…”

“Keep going, baby.” You encouraged, using a pet name to show him that you are listening.

“I’m confident enough in my body, but I’m not confident with my words.” He carefully explained, voice cracking slightly. Taking a shaky breath, he finally looked up into your eyes, finding comfort in them despite being scared, terrified even, of opening up like this. “I really like you, Y/N – oh my God, I sound like some teenager –”

Quickly pecking him on his lips, he fell quiet, mesmerized by the softness of your lips, if only for a second. “I like it when you sound like a teenager.” You replied, no teasing tilt to your voice as you looked at him with adoration.

“I can’t love you like anyone else can.” He admitted, still gazing into your eyes, seemingly unable to look away. “I don’t know how to, evidently because I’m already fucking divorced. But I can try. I can learn. You can teach me.” He breathed, saying everything rather quickly. “Please teach me. I can’t let you go. I need you. Ezra needs you.”

“Jimin,” You said carefully, trying not to sound too harsh. “I’m your assistant.”

“I don’t care.” He breathed, heart pounding through his chest. “You can move to another department if you want, but I need you in my life.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You whispered, having to think all the consequences through for the both of you. He frowned at the thought of not being able to work out your relationship.

“Then at least we tried.” He whispered back, his forehead leaning on your own. “But please give this a chance. I need you. I need this. Teach me how to love again.”

***

One year later

“Dad, I’m going to be late!” Ezra huffed, trying to move away from the hugs and kisses his father was trying to give him. Jimin elected to ignore him, kissing his forehead one more time, before Ezra ran to you, hiding behind you. “Y/N, please make him stop! Grandma’s waiting for me.”

“Why would I stop him when I want to do the same thing?” You laughed, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses. Jimin chuckled, gathering Ezra’s backpack, various toys and paint supplies, packing them neatly. Jimin’s mother had asked Ezra to accompany her for a short holiday to the countryside, which Ezra basically jumped at.

“Mommy, please!” He whined, making you freeze. He had never called you that, and by the silence echoing throughout the room, Jimin hadn’t expected it either. Before you could break the silence, Ezra gasped and ran over to his Grandmother, who had just walked through the open front door, hugging her tightly in greeting.

“I’m sorry for rushing you, but we really do need to get on the road.” She apologised, all of you standing outside as Jimin placed Ezra’s luggage in the trunk of his mother’s car.

A few minutes later, you and Jimin were waving goodbye to a retreating car. After seeing them safely off, Jimin snatched up your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it up to his lips. He still had an irrational fear of showing affection to you and Ezra when people were around, but when you were in your safe haven, he was the most affectionate person you’ve ever met.

“Mommy, huh?” He asked while smirking, using his free hand to bring your hips to his body. You smiled and blushed in response, shrugging as if it was nothing, but inside you were jumping for joy. He planted a kiss on your lips before leading you back inside, his hands squeezing your ass gently. “So, mommy and daddy are having some alone time this weekend��”

“Ezra didn’t call you daddy.” You laughed, walking into the kitchen to get a snack to eat.

“Yeah, but you did.” He replied, biting his lip as you gasped, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he brought up your hidden kink that you had accidentally let slip a few nights ago. He hadn’t brought it up until now, making you think that he hadn’t heard your whines as he had been too busy fucking you senseless.

“Park Jimin!” You chastised, swallowing hard as your hands barely grasped the ice cream pint you had gotten from the freezer. He raised an eyebrow at you, squaring his shoulders. “I didn’t think you heard me.” You admitted, blushing tomato red.

“Oh, don’t worry, I heard you loud and clear, baby girl.” He promised, pressing his bulge against you as you leaned on the large island in the middle of kitchen. His hands found purchase in your hair, roughly yanking it backwards so that your neck was exposed. He ran his lips all over your neck, biting the flesh, leaving dark red marks.

“Ezra is barely out the door and you’re already this horny?” You snarked, trying to hide your gasps as he sucked rather harshly on your pulse point.

“We haven’t been able to really fuck lately.” He shrugged, lifting you up on the cold granite surface and wrapping your legs around him. “Quickies aren’t as fun as being buried in this pussy for hours and hours on end, baby.”

“We have to go through that presentation – Jimin!”

“Where are your panties, huh?” He teased, his hand slipping under the hem of your skirt to knead your bare ass. “You’re acting like you don’t want my cock, but you aren’t even wearing anything to cover this pretty, little pussy.”

You didn’t reply, knowing that if you did a whimper would slip out of you, only adding to Jimin’s smugness. He ran his fingers along your folds, revelling in the way thick strands of your arousal clung to his fingers, essentially coating them in your arousal. You couldn’t take it anymore, the charade of not wanting him, so you threaded your fingers through his hair, using it to bring him to your mouth.

“Jimin, please…” You breathed, feeling his fingers dance around your clit. As you spoke, he froze, pulling away from your lips with his eyebrow raised.

“What did you just call me?” He asked sternly, his fingers retreating from your wet cunt, only to come down hard on your clit, the slapping sound echoing throughout the kitchen. “You need to be more respectful, you little brat.”

“Daddy…” You corrected, voice still barely above a whisper. “Daddy, please.”

He slapped your pussy again, ensuring that whimpers left your lips. Your arousal coated his fingers, the sticky substance making his skin glint in the light.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby girl.” Jimin murmured, inspecting his shining fingers before looking you right in the eye and slipping one in his mouth. The sight alone was enough to release another gush of arousal out of you, some of your juices now coating your thighs. “Fuck, you taste good.” He groaned, sucking on his finger. He glanced up at you, his eyes showing just how smug he is. “Want to have a taste?”

Without waiting for a reply, he placed his fingers in your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as you sucked his fingers clean. Maintaining eye contact with him, you swirled your tongue around his digits, licking him clean.

“Like that?” He asked, eyes dark with need. With his finger still in your mouth, you nodded, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “What do you want now, baby?”

“Daddy’s cock.” You instantaneously replied, almost quivering with need. He smirked, allowing you to grind into his bulge, trying to desperately get any source of friction.

“And what do you want to do with Daddy’s cock?”

“Suck it.” You answered, mouth salivating at the mere thought of it. “I want to suck it and taste Daddy’s cum.”

“Then why aren’t you on your knees?”

Wordlessly, you hopped off of the counter, knees harshly hitting the floor, yet you couldn’t care less. Your hands messily unbuckled Jimin’s belt, precariously shoving his jeans and boxers down his muscular thighs before you began to palm him in your hand.

“Don’t fucking tease me.” He groaned, voice deep and laced with seduction. “I still have half a mind of punishing you for being disrespectful, baby.”

Not wanting to get punished – well, at least for now – you slipped him into your mouth, sucking gently on his tip while maintaining eye contact. You gave it a few kitten licks, sucking off his precum, you run the flat of your tongue on the underside of his cock, making him grip your hair. His eyes hardened as he knew you were still teasing him, so he used his grip on your hair to push you all the way down to the hilt, making you take every inch of his cock down your throat.

“Ah, fuck yeah, baby.” He moaned, feeling your throat muscles expand and contract as it tried to swallow all of him. Tears sprung to your eyes, the lack of oxygen evident, but it only made Jimin chuckle. “Who fucking told you to tease me, huh? You wanted my cock in your mouth, baby. Now take. It. All.”

He punctuated every word with a thrust, increasing the tears in your eyes as well as the spit leaking out the side of your mouth. You loved it when Jimin made you take all of him, and it was evident as your arousal had slickened your thighs even more. He eventually took pity on you, pulling you off his dick as you gasped for air, your tears now streaming in rivulets down your face.

Allowing your lungs the chance to get air, you begun using your hands to jack him off, your spittle and his precum acting as lubricant. You stared up at him as his face relaxed with pleasure, head thrown back as your hands continuously pumped his length. Eventually, when your lungs had recovered, you put him back into your mouth, bobbing your head on the parts that you could reach without choking. With your hands fondling his balls, and your hollowed-out cheeks repeatedly sucking on him, he quickly met his end.

Grabbing your hair, he once again pushed you right up against his pubic bone and shot his cum right down your throat. High pitched, melodious moans reached your ears as his orgasm hit him. The salty, tangy taste of his cum coated your taste buds, the taste alone making you clench your thighs.

After the rush of his climax was over, you came off his dick with a ‘pop’, nuzzling your head into his thigh, clearly looking for praise. With his chest still heaving, he looked down at you, affection blooming in his eyes.

“You always suck Daddy’s cock so well, baby.” He murmured, helping you to your feet, bringing your lips to his own. “Such a good girl, hmm? Does my baby want a reward?”

“Swallowing your cum was my reward.” You breathed, still revelling in the feeling of having him fall apart in your mouth. He smirked, enjoying how submissive and God damn fuckable you were. His hand slipped around your throat, squeezing the sides gently, while his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear.

“Run up to our room. By the time I get there, I want you to be naked and laying on the bed for Daddy. Got it?”

Nodding, you felt excitement bloom deep in your chest, knowing that you were truly about to be rewarded. Once he let go of your throat, you all but ran up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to please Jimin. You stripped out of your skirt and stockings before you even made it to the bed, throwing them haphazardly over your shoulder, then you began to unbutton your blouse, peeling off your bra in the process.

Waiting with bated breath, you found yourself squirming with impatience on the cool, silky sheets. Right before you could huff out with irritation, Jimin made his appearance in all his glory. His own shirt was nowhere to be found, and his jeans hung low on his hips, giving you quite a view of his abs and defined v-line.

He paid you no mind, walking over to the closet to rummage around in the drawers. He came back a few moments later with a pair of handcuffs and nipple clamps, as well as something shoved in his back pocket. You quivered at the thought of him tying you up; despite the amount of times it had happened, it still brought an insane amount of adrenaline to your bloodstream.

“Good girl…” He trailed off as he took in your naked body, feeling his cock stir again. The silence in the room faded as he slipped the cuffs around your wrists, then fastened it to the headboard so that your arms were stretched above you, pushing your breasts up into the air. Using this to his advantage, he immediately snapped the clamps onto your nipples, the soft silicone doing little to soften the blow of the pinch.

A hiss left your lips when he tugged on the chain, accentuating the pain that claimed your nipples. He tugged on it again, gauging your reaction, and smirking when you whimpered.

“Does it hurt, baby?” He asked as he kissed your neck, sucking red blotches onto your skin. You nodded in response, causing him to smirk even further. “But you like it, don’t you? Daddy’s baby girl enjoys the pain.”

Before you could respond to him, his lips claimed yours, quickly claiming every breath you had. After a year of being together, Jimin’s lips knew exactly how to move with your own, not to fast nor to slow. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, slowly snaking its way to your own, where it massaged it gently.

In the midst of his lips ravishing your own, his hand slipped into his back pocket, retrieving a clit massager. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand in-between your legs, prying them apart so that he could place the toy right above your clit.

As soon as he turned on the toy, the gentle sucking caused you to moan into his mouth. Continuing to move his tongue in tandem with yours, Jimin slowly began to circle the head of your toy around your clit, getting maddeningly close to the bundle of nerves but never actually touching it.

“Daddy…” You whined, wiggling your hips so that he could place the toy directly on your clit. “Stop teasing!”

“Weren’t you just teasing me when we were in the kitchen?” He cockily asked, once again circling your clit with the toy. “Remember, baby? When you weren’t giving me what I wanted?”

“But you came!” Your argued, voice slowly becoming whinier as your stomach began to clench uncomfortably in anticipation. “I want to cum too, Daddy. Please!”

“You want to come?” Jimin asked, amused at the way your hips were trying to angle themselves to get the stimulation directly on your clit. You nodded, arms straining against the handcuffs. “Why don’t you stop chasing the toy then, huh? Why don’t you be a good girl for Daddy?”

“I am a good girl – ah!”

Your sentence was cut short by Jimin placing the toy right on your clit, turning the toy to its highest setting. A plethora of moans left your lips as the suction steadily grew and grew, simulating someone sucking on your clit.

“Daddy…” You moaned weakly, the pleasure making your brain fuzzy. With the suction directly on your clit, your orgasm loomed over you, driving any other thought out of your head. Needing something to set you off, you began to buck your hips into the toy, moaning and whimpering softly. “Please let me cum, Daddy… Please…”

“You can, baby.” He cooed into your ear, mesmerized with the way your body was lifting off of the bed to claim your orgasm. He quickly tugged on the nipple clamps, knowing that a tiny bit of pain would increase your pleasure tenfold. “Such a good little girl for Daddy, yeah? Always to ready to beg.”

With a yelp, your climax washed over you, turning your bones to nothing and transporting your head to cloud nine. You trembled lightly on the bed, sending a rush of blood back to Jimin’s cock and making him impossibly hard. He watched with bated breath as your chest rose and fell rapidly, the nipple clamps jingling with your actions, a visual indicator of the amount of pleasure your body was facing. Once your orgasm receded, he quickly turned off the toy and replaced it with his mouth, swallowing your cum and treating it almost with reverence.

“Daddy.” You croaked, voice almost gone due to the number of moans and whines that had left your throat just a few moments ago. Even though you had just experienced one of the best orgasms of your life, you wanted more – you wanted him. “Want you.”

“Are you sure you can handle another one, Y/N?” He asked seriously, not wanting to push you further than you could physically go. You nodded excitedly, pulling on the handcuffs to show how ready you were. He chuckled at your eagerness, taking off the clamps off of your nipples. They were puffy and sore, but your breasts welcomed the blood flow.

“Please fuck me.” You whispered, your cunt already clenching at the thought of being filled by Jimin’s cock. He smiled at you, his beauty taking your breath away as he stripped out of his jeans and boxers. His cock was already rock hard as it leaked pre-cum, the substance beading at the tip of his dusky pink head.

“Want my cock, baby?” He asked, positioning himself in-between your legs. You tried to reach out to him, wanting to align his dick at your entrance and watch how he pushed into your core, but the restraints that bound your wrists prevented that. That didn’t stop you from continuously tugging on the cuffs, the metal rattling against the bed post. “Keep acting like a little brat and I’ll leave you here the entire day.”

His threat immediately caused you to cease your actions, wanting nothing more than to feel him in you. Hearing the absence of you pulling on the restraints made him smirk up at you, knowing that you would probably do anything to have him in your cunt right now.

“So obedient.” He mused, leaning back and stroking his length to rile you up. “My baby will do anything for my cock, hmm? Such a dirty fucking slut for my cock.”

“Only for you, Daddy.” You promised, your breathing erratic due to seeing Jimin’s hand enclosed over his dick, lazily fisting the length. “Please fuck me. I need your cock in me.” He raised an eyebrow at you, still wanting to tease you despite being painfully hard. Your pussy clenched when he threw his head back in pleasure, fist pumping up and down his cock. “Jimin, please!”

“Is that how you talk to me?” He snapped, sliding his length into you as his hand tightened around your neck. Without giving you time to adjust to suddenly having his entire cock in you, he began to piston out of you, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. Your eyes rolled back from the pleasure, the feeling of having his cock force open your walls and the feeling of his hand tightening around your neck making you lose all train of thought. “Answer me, you fucking brat!”

“Daddy!” You corrected; voice hoarse from being choked. His hand left your neck, instead using his hands to hold your hips at an angle so that he could go deeper. “I – I’m sorry, Daddy!”

Hot tears of pleasure ran down your face, the droplets falling to your chest. “You’re crying?” He scoffed, somehow making his hips rut into you faster, your tits moving from each powerful thrust. “Is my cock too much for you to handle?” He asked, thumbing your clit, bringing more tears of pleasure to your face. You shook your head at his question, showing him just how well you could take his dick. “Hmm, good girl. Such a good slut for my cock, huh? Take it all, baby. Take every fucking inch of me in this tight pussy.”

“Going to… Gonna cum.” You whimpered, feeling your pleasure reaching a precipice quickly. He groaned as he felt your walls hug his length even tighter due to your impending orgasm. His thumb continued to work quick, tight circles over your clit, the white-hot pleasure surging through your veins and setting off your climax. “Daddy!”

“Ah, fuck, Y/N!” Jimin moaned, your convulsing cunt bringing about his own orgasm. Your body arched off of the bed once again, your orgasm seemingly too intense for your body to handle. Your thighs trembled and a heat rushed up to your cheeks, sweat gleaming on your body. Jimin’s cock was coated in your cum, the sheer feeling of it causing him to shoot his hot cum deep in you. High pitched curses and moans left his plump lips, ropes of his cum coating your walls as both of you tried to control your heavy breathing.

Without pulling out of you, Jimin reached up and unlocked the handcuffs, throwing them onto the floor to join your long-forgotten clothes. Flipping you over so that you were laying on him, he kissed your raw wrists gently, despite both of your chests still heaving.

“Thank you, baby.” He murmured, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

“You were amazing, Jimin.” You said softly, enjoying the feeling of having his skin directly on your own. “I wouldn’t want this with anyone other than you.”

“I love you.” He blurted, unable to contain his feelings any longer. You sucked in a breath, not believing your own ears. It was the first time he had ever said something like this. “I know it’s been a journey and a half with me, teaching me how not to be some cold asshole, but God damn, I love you, Y/N. I can’t imagine a life without you; I don’t want to imagine a live without you.”

“I love you too, Jimin.” You replied, a smile creeping on your face as your heart fluttered. “I love you more than you will ever know.”

***

↳ a/n: so that was the first instalment of my colour series! I plan on doing a one shot for each member based on meanings of a specific colour. Please let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged in the future one shots :)

#jimin smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts #jimin x reader #park jimin #au #bts fan fiction #bts imagines #smut

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ethereal-bang · 4 years

Text

Stormy Night

Authors Note: Hey guys!! It’s finally here, my first fic to post! AANNND ITS SEUNGMIN SMUT YOU’RE WELCOME this probably seems very rough and rushed and I’m sorry lol it’s my first time writing smut and my first time in a few years writing a fic, but I’m really happy with it!

Characters: Seungmin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.3k (oops lol)

Type: Friends to Lovers, An equal amount of fluff as there is smut “There’s enough room on the bed for both of us”, somewhat of a buildup

This piece of fiction is intended for adult audiences, 18+ ONLY

Watching the rain as it hits the windshield, a mild feeling of panic starts to wash over you. The storm was getting bad, and it would be getting dark pretty soon. Looking back on it, maybe taking the 18 hour road trip home with Seungmin wasn’t the smartest idea you’d had. You were nearly half way there, so close but so far to your hometown, where you insisted--no, begged for Seungmin to come with you due to a family wedding that you wanted no part in, but were obligated to be at. Not to mention, your cousins had been pestering you about when you were finally going to bring a plus one to such important family gatherings.

“So Y/N,” your cousin started, and you immediately feel a little panic set in, knowing where this was going. “Is your boyfriend coming with you to Jennie’s wedding? I mean..you do have a boyfriend, right?” You can hear the smirk in her voice over the phone, asking about the wedding that you would be attending this weekend. Every time one of these events take place, she’s always there to make fun of your relationship-- or lack thereof. Searching around the room as you try to think of an excuse, your eyes land on your best friend, Seungmin, who is sitting on the couch watching some drama he had turned on when your cousin called. An idea forming, you slowly smile. “Actually..yes. I am bringing my boyfriend with me.” At your words, Seungmin’s ears perk up and he turns to look at you. Eyes going wide, he immediately catches onto your plan, mouthing words of protest at you as you try to wave him off. “Yes. We will make sure to be there by noon. Okay, I’ve gotta go, I’ll talk to you later bye!” You tell your cousin, quickly getting her off the phone as Seungmin has now stood up and was making his way towards you.

Hanging up the phone, Seungmin looks at you like you're crazy. “No.” He says quickly, not letting you get a word in edgewise. “No. I am NOT going to play boyfriend at this wedding. Please don’t make me do it,” he pleads, eyes going wide. “Seungmiiiinnnn,” you whine, “it’ll only be for a weekend, please just hear me out!” you beg. He shakes his head in resistance and you groan, throwing yourself onto the couch. “Pleeease. I’ll do anything!” At this, he stops. “Anything?” You nod at him, looking hopeful. “Do my biology homework for a week and you’ve got yourself a deal.” You smile at him, surprise taking over your features. “Done.” you beam, and he groans, not thinking you would actually agree.

And that was how you got here, Seungmin volunteering to drive the first half of the way. However, you weren’t expecting the rain to hit as hard as it was. Sensing you were a tad bit anxious at the growing storm, Seungmin takes a hand off the steering wheel and places it on your thigh. You really wish he wouldn’t do that.

It’s no secret that your best friend is attractive. Seungmin is a traditionally handsome kinda guy-- brown, soft hair, big chocolate eyes that scrunch at the corners when he smiles and a laugh that can brighten anyone’s day. You take a second to appreciate said features, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the blush making its way to your cheeks and focusing on the road instead.

Yeah...so maybe you have a thing for your best friend. No big deal.

A loud crack of thunder pulls you out of your trance, and it starts to rain even harder, if that was even possible. “Seungmin..” you start, voice small, “maybe we should stop somewhere, just until the rain calms down a little.” Your eyes are drawn to a road marker: “LODGING: EXIT 15 (1.5 miles)” Pointing it out to Seungmin, he nods and keeps an eye out for the next exit, which should be quickly approaching. “You’re right, man who would’ve thought it would rain this bad..” he says, trying to keep the car on the road despite the rain making it hard to see.

Soon enough, you see the neon lights of a hotel come into view. Seungmin, sighing with relief now that he won’t be driving in the dangerous weather, pulls into the parking lot. “You stay here, I’ll head inside and get us a room,” He says, undoing his seatbelt and pulling the hood on his jacket tight. You nod in response, watching him jog through the parking lot and into the lobby. You focus on the sounds of the rain, now oddly calming as you know you’re not going to be in it. Really, you were just worried about this wedding, wanting it to go well and hope that no one will see through the little act you’re about to put on with your best friend.

A few minutes later, Seungmin runs back out to the car. Brandishing a key on a little feather chain, he smiles at you. “Got the room, let’s go on up.” You grab your backpacks that were sitting in the back seat, and follow Seungmin to the room. Upon opening the door, you take a look around at the place you’ll call home for the night. A patterned rug, wall lights soft but warm which make the room feel oddly cozy, and dark red curtains make you laugh, feeling comfort in the very stereotypical decor. That is, until your eyes fall on the bed.

That’s right, the bed. One bed. For the two of you.

Now, you’ve had sleepovers with Seungmin plenty of times, memories of all nighters before finals and drunken celebrations crossing your mind. However, when he stayed over you almost always ended up falling asleep on the couch; TV playing a movie that eventually neither of you could keep your minds focused on, too occupied with the idea of sweet sweet sleep. Your back might have hated you for not sleeping in your own bed, but waking up on the couch with Seungmin’s head resting atop yours was something you’ll always find comfort in; his hair tickling your forehead as you take in your surroundings.

“Only one bed?” You ask him, feeling a little nervous. “Yeah, it was all they had left..I can sleep on the floor if you want me to, it’s no big deal.” He shrugs as he sets his bag down on the table near the front door. The idea of him sleeping on a hotel carpet does not sit well with you, thinking of how many people have been through this room and questioning just what has went down here. “No no it’s okay. I don’t want you sleeping on the floor. There’s enough room on the bed for the both of us “ You say, trying to hide the nervous tint in your voice. “Are you sure?” He asks and you nod your head, not wanting your voice to betray you. Shrugging his shoulders, Seungmin announces that he’s going to take a shower, feeling gross after being in the car since the early hours of the morning and being caught in the rain.

You get comfortable in the hotel room, setting your things down and getting ready to let sleep take you over. While laying in the bed, as close to one side as you possibly can, you scroll through your social media as Seungmin finally makes his way out of the bathroom. Glancing up at him from your screen, you hold back a gasp as you take in the way he looks: Hair still a little wet, a fresh tshirt that fits his arms just right and his grey sweatpants sitting a little low on his hips making you want to lift his shirt and kiss the exposed skin. Your mind goes absolutely insane as you try to push the thoughts away, wanting to get some sleep.

Picking up the covers, Seungmin slides in next to you and chuckles about how apprehensive you seem. “You know, Y/N, you’re almost falling off the bed. You don’t have to be so far away.” he says, getting under the covers and making himself comfy. “No, really, I’m alright,” you lie to him, wanting to maintain your distance otherwise your sanity will slowly chip away. Even with the small distance in between you, you can smell the cinnamon of his body wash, one that you’ve definitely used on the occasional chance that you’ve stayed at his apartment. The scent is almost intoxicating, because it’s just purely..Seungmin. “Okay, suit yourself. Try and get some sleep, I set an alarm for the morning so we’ll be fine,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a yawn. You set your phone down on the side table and turn off the lamp, closing your eyes and trying to fall asleep, willing away dreams of the boy who is snoring peacefully next to you. (Seriously? How did he fall asleep so fast?)

You almost had a peaceful sleep. Almost.

You’re unsure how much time has passed, but your slumber was rudely interrupted by a very bright strike of lightning, loud thunder following not too close behind. The sound made you wake in a panic, heart racing and sitting straight up in bed. Once you realized what was happening you lay back down, trying to relax yourself back to sleep.

It wasn’t working. The lightning and thunder continued, and for some reason you just cannot bring your brain to calm down enough. Tossing and turning, you’re thankful that the darkness can hide the blush on your cheeks as you take in Seungmin’s sleeping form. His mouth is partially open, soft snores emitting from it and making you smile. His hair has dried, fluffy and falling into his eyes where his lashes cast a delicate shadow onto his cheeks.

Another crack of thunder makes you jump, and this time it was loud enough to make Seungmin stir too. Afraid he would wake up and catch you staring at him, you quickly shut your eyes, pretending to be asleep and praying that your best friend wouldn’t be able to hear your heart pounding in your chest.

You hear Seungmin take in a deep breath, and he scoots a little closer to you. “I know you’re awake,” you hear him say, and the gentle yet sleepy tone makes you open your eyes, even though you were desperately trying to get yourself to fall asleep. Taking a look at him, you try to hide the fact that you’re a little flustered, but that isn’t easy as Seungmin reaches across the space in between you and pulls you into his chest. If he couldn’t hear your heart beating before, he should be able to feel it by now, but sure enough you relaxed in his hold, as if you were made for his arms to be wrapped around you. Seungmin runs his fingers through your hair in a slightly comforting gesture. “Thunderstorm keeping you up?” He asks quietly, and you nod your head. “It’s gotten worse. I hope it lets up before we have to leave…” you trail off, and Seungmin just shushes you, the patterns he’s drawing on his scalp slowing to a stop as he holds you.

Taking a chance, you look up at your best friend, nose touching his chin as he lays there with his eyes closed. Sensing your stare, he pulls away a little and looks at you, and that’s when you see it. Something is there, but you’re not quite able to make it out.

That is, until suddenly Seungmin is leaning down towards you, face coming closer slowly as if to gauge your reaction. Taking the plunge, you meet him halfway in a searing kiss, one that you did not expect to come from him right now, or ever.

You were always positive that your feelings for Seungmin were unrequited, looking for signs that he may have even the littlest bit of feelings for you over the years. Maybe you’re just oblivious, but all of those thoughts fly out the window at the feeling of his lips on yours, the hand that was once on your waist now on your cheek, his other hand still in your hair.

You stay like that for a few minutes, just kissing, enjoying the fact that you’re both finally getting what you wanted. You’re the first one to pull away, out of breath and absolutely smitten.

“You,” Seungmin starts, a shy smile on his lips as he looks at your pink cheeks, “have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that for,” he confesses, and it makes you smile. “Well, why’d you stop?” you tease and pull him back down for another kiss.

The first kiss was gentle, loving, sweet. Everything you ever expected of Kim Seungmin. The second kiss, however, turned into something deeper, more sensual and passionate as you swiped your tongue along his bottom lip, him granting you access but immediately fighting you for dominance. You let him win, giving into the feelings that were slowly forming in the pit of your stomach. His hold on you tightens, and he pushes you into the mattress, hovering over you while still driving you absolutely insane. His hands move under your shirt, the brunette tracing circles on your hip bones that automatically start a fire inside of you. His kisses move down to your neck, biting on a spot between your neck and your collarbone which elicits a small groan of his name from your mouth.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath, the noise you made clearly affecting him. He pushes his hands farther up your shirt and looks at you for permission. “Can I?” he asks, and you simply nod your head, raising your arms to help him get you out of your shirt.

Being in front of Seungmin in this way was totally new-- the most he’s ever seen of you is in a bikini, and even then you wore a tshirt over it more often than not. You go to cover yourself but Seungmin moves your arms away and his lips immediately attach to your chest, making eye contact with you as his tongue runs across your nipple. Seungmin seems to be spurred on by the noises you’re making, running his hands up and down your sides, going lower each time but refusing to put his hands where you really want them. He pulls away for a quick moment, and you whine at the loss of contact. Seungmin sits up, a chuckle falling from his lips as he takes off his own tshirt, and you can’t help but stare at the lithe body that’s presented before you. You’ve always known he was in shape, but watching his muscles flex with each movement he makes suddenly makes you very impatient.

Suddenly he’s back on you, lips traveling farther down to your core and the knot in your stomach tightens a little bit more with each kiss he leaves on your body. “You,” he begins, “are the most. Beautiful. Woman. I. have. Ever. seen.” he accentuates each word with a kiss, starting at your ribcage and ending on your inner thighs. His lips are ghosting your core, opting to continue the sweet kisses on your inner thighs. “Seungmin..please,” you whine out, a hand moving down to grip his hair. “What do you want, baby? I need you to use your words,” he says with a smirk on his face.

“Seungmin please. I need your tongue, your fingers, fuck anything just...touch me. Please,” you beg him. Happy to hear your breathy moans, he finally slips off your sleep shorts and your underwear at once, running a finger through your folds. “So, so pretty,” he says in amazement, reveling in the fact that you’re soaked, and it’s all for him.

Seungmin begins placing soft kitten licks to your clit, the feeling making you want to roll your eyes into the back of your head. Instead you opt to watch him, his eyes completely blown with lust as he adds a finger to the mix. Looking up at you to gauge your reaction, Seungmin is more than happy with what he sees. Your eyes have gone dark, trying not to throw your head back in pleasure because you want to watch as he slowly has you falling apart around him.

The feeling of his finger inside you makes you whimper. It’s nice, but it’s nowhere near enough. “Seungmin..please stop teasing,” you beg him. He looks up at you questioningly. “Nu uh baby, I have to get you ready for me,” “I am ready for you, Seungmin, God please-- just fuck me,”

Hearing the absolute desperation in your voice, he decides to grant you mercy, removing his fingers and pulling your legs up a little higher. “You sure?” he asks once more, looking for your consent before you cross a boundary that the two of you will never be able to come back from. You pull him down to you for a kiss, hoping that he can feel all of the emotions you’re pouring into it. “Seungmin, I want you. In every sense of the word. I have never been so sure about something,” you say. With a gentle smile on his lips, he leans back to pull down his sweatpants, cock springing up against his stomach. You feel your heart begin to beat even faster-- as if that was possible-- knowing what was coming.

Seungmin runs the head of his cock in between your folds, something that has you keening with pleasure and excitement. Leaning close to you, he takes your hand in his, and uses his free hand to guide his cock into your entrance. Seungmin lets out a deep groan that mirrors your own, getting lost in the feeling of how tight you feel around him. The stretch stings for just a moment, but is soon replaced with a feeling of absolute euphoria. It’s like Seungmin was made for you; feeling absolutely full once he bottoms out. He stays like that for a moment or two, letting you get adjusted to the feeling as he peppers kisses on your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You wiggle your hips just a bit, and Seungmin gets the hint. Slowly pulling out, you moan at the feeling of him inside you. He picks up a steady pace, not too fast but not agonizingly slow.

The only sounds that can be heard in the room are skin slapping, and your moans mixed with Seungmin’s quieter noises as well. “F-fuck,” he stutters, hips starting to move faster, hitting you harder and looking for your gspot. “S-seungmin dont..d-dont stop,” you say, the knot in your stomach turning white hot as he continued.

Seungmin leans in closer to you, your legs pushed up against your chest and the position has you seeing stars. Feeling your wall clench around him, one of Seungmin’s hands travels down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. His high was approaching too, but he wanted to make sure that you came before he did. “Oh my god,” you breathe out as the knot in your stomach finally snaps, vision going white and the only thing coming from your mouth is Seungmin’s name, repeated like a mantra that you would live by your entire life. Not even seconds later Seungmin’s orgasm comes, triggered by your wall tightening around him. You feel him fill you completely, a soft moan let out as you both finally come down from your highs.

Pulling out and laying back down beside you, Seungmin pulls you close to him once again. “I meant what I said, you know. About wanting you. I do. All of the time,” you quietly say, still a little out of breath and your cheeks flushing pink. Throwing his arm over your waist, he presses a kiss to your cheek. “I know. I want you too, always. Y/N, would you do me the honors and be my actual girlfriend?” He asks, looking you in the eyes. You smile softly, leaning into kiss him once more.

“Absolutely,” you say, right before sleep takes you, the thunderstorm completely forgotten.

_______________________________________________________________

A/N: Hey! If you’ve made it this far, make sure you like/reblog/give me any kind of feedback! I really hope you guys like it!!

Also my requests ARE OPEN so if you have anything you wanna send in, feel free to do so!!!

#seungmin #skz #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #kim seungmin #kpop scenarios #ryn writes #ryn's work: seungmin #ryn's work: stray kids

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sararaiden · 3 years

Text

Redamancy

A post-canon gintsu fanfic. All the flower talk references the Hanahaki disease (since this is a tie-in of an okikagu multichap that had the Hanahaki as a plot device). AO3 link.

It takes them some time to decipher who is the early riser, and in all honesty, it depends on many things. It has to do with the long nights at the pachinko parlor getting more and more sporadic until they are only an excuse for Hasegawa to unwind from his job, in which Gintoki obliges because that’s what friends are for.

Tsukuyo still has to bail him on those nights.

Or maybe it has to do with him drinking less and less alone since it will be a shame to waste the sake Hijikata gives her. So, she pours it for him, and it becomes a sacred ritual at dusk instead of a way to drown his sorrows. Or, perhaps, this is about his empty house and how he was drawn to her, desperate to have an excuse to quell his screams at night now that Kagura was gone. In the end, he stays at her place for weeks, even if that meant fewer hours of sleep because he has to drive back to Kabukicho.

(Until Kondo started coming too and then he had an excuse to freeload on the police’s gasoline and sleep some more on the way back).

Perhaps that will change now that his daughter is back. He realizes that he hadn’t taken her to his house as much as he had liked while he could —because Kagura is still his little girl and she doesn’t need to know how much he wants to ravish Tsukuyo on his desk. Then, he remembers her tired face and her beautiful laugh at Otose’s all those nights they spent at Kabukicho just to be there, only for them to return to Yoshiwara, sometimes drunk and stumbling, sometimes sober and embracing each other in the quiet of the dawn, and he supposes that is enough for the time being. They can’t know who the early riser is when they don’t even take off the day’s clothes before going to sleep and get up because one of them managed to kick the other.

They can’t know it either when Tsukuyo takes those crazy shifts, sometimes at night, sometimes in the middle of the night, sometimes by day. He has spent months playing pachinko with this: will she be at his side when he wakes up? Will she even come? Their sleeping schedule is so messed up and so unnatural they don’t even bother trying to learn the other’s pattern. Whenever they remain awake plagued by their thoughts doesn’t count either as getting up for they didn’t even get to sleep. It is like this that the fact remains clouded in mystery, much to Hinowa’s chagrin.

It is, indeed, a mixture of a gazillion of circumstances. But one thing is for sure: it reveals itself when he doesn’t waste away his nights in solitude, when the life outside his futon beckons him with all its colors —even if Kagura is away, and the day Tsukuyo starts loosening on the workload she puts on her back and fits herself into his routine too.

Gintoki is the early riser. For one thing is sure: saving cats from trees is less tiring than beating the ever-loving shit out of some thug. If only she knew how good she looks when her palm sends the head of the idiot in case bobbling backward…

Yes, Gintoki follows her sometimes, like a stupid Gorilla stalker.

(Oh, how low the mighty have fallen).

Not because she needs saving, but because he’s bored, and Tsukuyo and her girls know how to put on a spectacle. And still, whatever she is capable of doing in the field stands no chance against what she does to him with her mere presence, the slow rise and fall of her chest, and the sunrays painting gold her hair.

He is glad he gets up earlier than her. With this Gintoki can steal a few moments from her day and not feel guilty about it. He can steal her from Yoshiwara’s claws; the Red District is lucky he still has some shame. Gintoki doesn’t pretend —could never, in fact, know what she thinks but he is aware of this much: Tsukuyo still shares him with everyone who needs him. She’s that selfless.

He, on the other hand, wants to steal her from Paradise. Shame and the utter respect he has for her are stopping him from doing so.

His hand brushes against her forehead, pulling her fringe away to reveal the scar. The marred tissue never made her ugly, but he had a hard time trying to grasp the meaning behind it, just to realize later that she was far braver than him. It is easy to throw yourself into the pits of danger, wishing that maybe your life would end gloriously. It isn’t so easy, however, to cast a part of yourself away for the sake of duty.

It is beautiful, that with her he doesn’t want to fall to pieces, not anymore, and that with him, she can be whole again.

“Creep.” Her voice is hoarse, a blend of the tobacco and the morning sleepiness. She raises her hand from under the covers and grabs him by the wrist. Gintoki just smiles, lazy and unapologetic. “Don’t tell me ya haven’t slept, Gintoki.” There’s a veiled threat in her words yet she loosens her grip and drawls her fingers across the calloused skin of his hand’s palm.

Taking the route of the playful banter is second nature to him, just like kicking asses —his included, is to her. “You didn’t let me, you Terminator, remember?” He slides his fingers between hers and encloses her hand in his, like a predator. He feels the ring biting into his skin; it’s so cold, just like her. Or, to be more precise, how she wanted to be, just that he didn’t let her, and now here they are. Tsukuyo has that sweet expression of complete shame plastered across her face. “Poor Gin-san works his ass off and instead of letting him rest you decide to mounfhgth!”

He licks her hand, but it's futile; she acts like a maiden but she’s hardly disgusted by the actions themselves, just at the mention of them. “Ya are one boastful moron.” She releases his mouth from its confinement and makes a face when a sunray hits her right in the eyes.

Next thing she is snuggling against his chest. It’s dark in there, just what she needs.

“I’m just proud of your stamina.” She sneaks an arm around him and smacks him in the head. “Watch it, Tsukuyo.”

“Ya watch it, Gintoki,” she grumbles against his skin, tickling him. Her lips linger a little above one of his scars, never touching him. For all the “reject womanhood” discourse she loved to throw at him back in the day, she is a courtesan at heart and knows exactly how to silence him.

(He finds it poetic, how after spending a lifetime howling at the heavens, he has finally reached them).

So, he remains silent. The only sound that fills the room is the ruffling of the sheets when he caresses her back and the distant call of a new day several stories down from where her quarters are. He ought to thank Kagura for giving Tsukuyo a mini-vacation to compensate for the ruined free day spent with Hijikata and Sofa-kun.

“Say, do you have a favorite flower?”

It is a strange question. It didn’t rob him of his sleep last night, but he figured he had never asked her. With all the drama surrounding the police captain —and Kagura, but he isn’t thinking about that right now nor does he want to, he thought about the maple leaves of her kimono.

Her voice comes out muffled by his chest. “I hate the cherry blossoms.” He knows. He’s the only one that knows.

“I asked for a favorite one, tho.”

They remain in silence again. She doesn’t get it, why it’s so important, but like many other things, she indulges him. Tsukuyo’s hums almost make him drift back to sleep, until her voice, now clear, stops him from going too far. She has one elbow on the pillow and her hand lazily supporting her head. He feels triumphant, for some reason.

“I don’t know why are we having pillow talk about flowers…” she seems to be mesmerized by how their hands are still interweaved, “but I like those that grow by the riverbank.” She scowls a bit, to which Gintoki brings his lips to her brow. “The ones that are fluffy and with many colors.” He leaves there a chaste kiss, coaxing her to relax. There’s no need for her to get stressed for not knowing how they are called.

“The hydrangeas, aha.” He recoils in time to catch the suspicious glare she regales him.

“I didn’t take ya for a flower enthusiast, Gintoki.”

He isn’t. It’s just that some memories can’t be purged, nor does he want to. It’s funny those are her favorite ones, or at least, the ones she likes the most.

“I’ve lived ten years with Otose.” That in itself, isn’t an answer. Even so, she doesn’t need one. She had let go of his hand and now is combing through his perm with lazy strokes. “They grow on her husband’s grave.” Her movements do not falter. “And we had them by the fence at the temple school, too.” She doesn’t still, doesn’t look at him with pity, doesn’t even look him in the eyes. She lets him bare himself while she continues to mess his hair.

Truth is, she made a mess out of him a long time ago, when Yoshiwara was as dark as his life before the kids came into it.

“Yoshiwara needs a bit of green,” she comments casually. Tsukuyo drops her hand and turns away, reaching for her pipe, and Gintoki pretends he didn’t see her soft smile. She sits up and takes his yukata, draping it over her shoulders. Her fingers lighten the kiseru with grace. “We can plant them in the main avenue.” The tobacco smoke fills the room almost immediately. He doesn’t care anymore. “And then you can plant the ones you like.”

Always the tsundere, avoiding asking the real questions.

He stretches, and circles her waist, his hands resting on her thighs and his chin on her shoulder. He follows the swirly pattern of the cloth, thinking.

“I can’t plant maple leaves, Tsukuyo.”

#gintama #sakata gintoki #tsukuyo #gintsu #tsukuyo x gintoki #rhena writes #gintama fanfiction #gntm:shppdn*

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greenjudy · 3 years

Text

let’s call it privacy

13.

Whatever Noct wants, Noct gets: I’ve known this since I was little, since Luna explained it all to me. Please don’t blame her; I was glad to know. It helped me understand a bunch of things I could never put in words. My father’s arms too tight around me; a whole sequence of nannies who seemed afraid to say the word ‘no’ in my presence. Then, later, how easily any lesson or topic or duty or obligation I didn’t like was set aside, postponed, adjusted, handled, smoothed away.

At any rate, people went to lengths on my behalf. These cherries weren’t the first mortally expensive fruits brought home for me to eat.

Since I scarcely had language of my own to express what I knew was waiting for me, I didn’t really have a way to explain it to anyone else. In the end I just found it expedient to behave as if I didn’t know where it all came from, as if I believed it was the deference I was owed by the world. So what if he’s a little selfish? He knows how to be courteous when it matters. He wears a tie when he’s supposed to. He gives good public face. He’s a prince. What do you expect?

No one, in those days, had been honest with me except for Luna.

It’s an open question, what you knew about it all back then. Did my father tell you what he wouldn’t tell me? That question has kept me awake at night. It’s pervaded every one of the many, many kindnesses you’ve done me over the course of our lives.

It must be your habit of—let’s call it privacy—that makes you take your glasses off, wipe your face, and station yourself in the kitchen, your back to me.

I stay on the floor. I suddenly don’t have enough power to move.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say into the air. “Bring these. They’re—they must have cost a lot. I know you don’t like to spend money on crazy things.”

“Crazy things?” you ask in a muffled voice. You haven’t turned back around to face me. You’re standing there at the sink, holding your glasses in your hands.

“I’m just saying, you don’t have to. You… Ignis… you never have to.”

“Why shouldn’t we have cherries,” you say then, in a voice I don’t think I’ve ever heard you use.

Now on the AO3.

#FFXV #ignoct #wip #obligatory self-indulgent AM reblog

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urmysilverlining · 4 years

Text

Demons

- Your eyes, they shine so bright, I want to save their light

I can’t escape this now, unless you show me how -

“Mac, please don’t-”

Detecting your will to prevent Mac from taking that hard choice, Taylor held your arms and pulled you back away.

“Leave me!” you wagged, with all your strength left.

Heat statistics were finally dropping. “What have you done?” you whispered, the same moment Mac pressed the red button.

No answer. You three just stood there: witnesses of the death of a good man who was just trying to do his job, in order to save the city and his family. Not moving his eyes from the screen until the very end, Mac half turned to you, lowering his gaze right after. Russ lose the hold on you, and you got close to the screens and those deadly buttons. But the “reverse” button wasn’t on that console.

“There had to be another way!” you burst out.

“Y/N, that was the only way-”

“It’s okay, Russ.” Mac stopped your British colleague with a little hint of his hand, then turning to you: “Y/N, if you want to fight me, if you hate me...I won’t blame you.”

Russ newly set it, trying to calm spirits down: “It was him or the city. It’s mathemat-”

You screamed: “Well, fuck math! When guilt of having watched a man dying without moving a finger will strike tonight, it won’t be math that’s going to help me sleep”

——————————————————————————

You lay your hand on the shower’s silver knob and turn it on. The warm water jet hits your skin as you close your eyes.

The feeling of two strong arms rounding your waist, and pulling you in. Back against his chest, you rest your head on Mac’s shoulder. His breath caresses your neck’s skin as he whispers something that makes you smile. He can literally make you smile out of nothing. You look at him through your wet eyelashes, and meet his blue eyes. The same blue eyes stuck on that screen, so still, despite of being filled by tears.

You open your eyes with a gasp. When this job has become so complicated? You remember times of getting home to drink a beer with Mac and your friends around the fire pit. Evenings, holidays, birthdays filled by jokes and laughters.

You close the water and get out of the shower. With just a towel wrapped around your body shape, you walk around the house, alone, in the darkness. You head for the kitchen, take a bottle of wine and drink a couple of glasses: the ultimate remedy to make you sleep since your thoughts had become more persistent.

The bruise of the door opening and the light from the street get your attention. Mac leaves his keys on the little dish and walks in the kitchen, sure of you already being sleeping.

He slightly widens his eyes seeing you standing there.

“Hey, you still awake?”

Despite of you not having been the best in showing your affection lately, you still want Mac to find a caring person when he gets home. You’re tired of falling asleep alone and waking up to him sleeping on the couch.

“Guess who couldn’t fall asleep without you by her side?” you speak softly, putting your arms around his neck.

He’s surprised by your reaction, but a genuine half smile shows up anyways.

You go on, joking: “I’ve heard you always coming back late from work these past nights. Has Matty been covering you with work or is it just you and Russ looking for conspiracy theories as usual?”

After a silent moment, he cautiously answers: “Since you seemed to need more space, I offered Matty to finish some extra work.”

“Well, if this means you doing crazy hour at work, I am not okay with it anymore.”

Mac spots a drop of water falling from your hair, and follows with his thumb its path down your neck, collarbone, shoulder. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t deserve you.” he whispers, kissing you where he started.

You breath out of relieve of that much needed contact. He grips the towel on your sides pulling you closer, as you cup his face moving down to the collar of his shirt. His hands run up your back, to stop below your nape, fingers locking in your wet hair. You kiss him fondly for a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

Detaching his lips from yours and giving you a corned look, Mac murmurs: “Have you drunk?”

“Just a couple of glasses before you got home” you state, without giving too much weight to that detail.

As you get closer for another kiss, he takes up the subject: “Why?”

“I felt really tense and I thought this could have helped us to relax” you caress his arms, trying to keep a contact with him.

“Wow, I am such a fool. I really thought all of this came naturally. That you needed to be with me again.”

He walks towards his room, letting the distance between you grow.

Not being able to keep the true for yourself any longer, you explode: “It’s just, it’s just I keep seeing that man falling on the ground, dying under our eyes, again and again. The image on that screen is stuck on my mind. But I don’t want this to ruin everything between us.”

“Well, it already happened. You stopped seeing me in the same way after that day. You are barely able to look me in the eyes. I know that you blame me for that death...”

“I’m just scared this job could have changed us. I feel like I can’t move on, not yet, at least.”

Tears fall from your eyes as Mac answers: “You’re right. I’ve changed, and it’s wrong making you to accept what I turned into.” ------------------------------------------------------------

“So, how’s your relationship going? Have you managed to fix things with your partner?”

“Pretty bad.” You answer your therapist’s question “I’ve tried to establish a connection with him, instead of keeping avoiding the problem, as you suggested me, but it didn’t work out very well. I feel like I ruined everything.”

“Why do you talk like this?”

“I had drunk, then we had a moment but he noticed it and thought everything happened just because I wan’t completely sober. But it’s not like that, I really wanted to be close to him as we used to. Then, I told him how I felt since we came back from that mission and he started saying I blame him from all that happened back then...” You massage your temples, closing your eyes and forcing you to breath in and out regularly.

“Y/N, it has been awhile now, and I’ve read all the files about your past missions multiple times...Could it be you can’t get over what your partner was obliged to do, because you still can’t forgive yourself for that one time you had to take the same decision by yourself?”

One tear fall from your eyes: “I had promised to myself that I would have never let that happen again...”

Before you can add other words, Matty breaks in the room: “Y/N, I’m sorry to interrupt your session, but we need you on the field, now...”

“O-okay” You discreetly wipe your tear and get up, nodding to your therapist and to your boss.

“They’ll explain you as you go. Now please take this and leave it in the war room.” Matty handles you a file and disappears in an office of the Phoenix’s base.

Once in the war room, you lay it on the small table and look for your bag to put away files from your past missions and your therapist’s report about the sessions. You’ll consign them to Matty after the mission.

“Y/N, we need to go” Mac enters in the room.

“Yes, I just need to arrange some things”

“Please, just do it later” he prompts you.

“Okay, but remember me to pick up these things before going home” you reply, leaving all the dossiers on the table and following him out.

------------------------------------------------------------

Despite of the tiredness due to the long day and mission, you keep replaying the words of your therapist and the memories that they made surface on your mind, on a loop.

You get in the hallway and stand in front of Mac’s door. You raise your fist, ready to knock. Once done, you receive no answer. You change your mind multiple times, repetitively approaching the door and stumbling back, until you lower the hold and get in. You look for a sign from Mac, but he seems peacefully asleep on his side. Your gut tells you to go on, so you crawl on the mattress and lie next to him.

Rubbing an hand on his face, Mac asks: “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Checking you’re okay.” you whisper.

“I am. Good night.” He lets slide an arm under the pillow, and close his eyes.

You caress his hair, then his cheeks, noticing he cried: “I knew something was wrong. But I won’t let you face your demons alone”

“That’s not on you, Y/N. I made my choices and have to take the burden.”

“It was the right choice. I’ve always known it. I guess I wasn’t able to forgive myself for something I did much time ago, and seeing you doing the same was like history repeating without having the power to change things.”

“Y/N, I have to confess you a thing...”

“Of course”

“You left those files in the war room today, and then you forgave to recollect them, so I thought to bring them back home for you...I opened one of them to see if it was work related, and then I read they were about you having suffered from PTSD in the past and resuming therapy...I’m so sorry, that was so not me, but I wanted to know you were okay...”

“Mac, you don’t have to worry about me” you reply.

“So why you didn’t you tell me you were seeing a therapist? I’ve read you talked to her about us. I could have helped you. I could have come with you.”

“Mac, we haven’t talked a lot lately, don’t you think? It would have been unfair to let you know about my problems, seen what you were going through, too...”

“Okay, but why you never talked to me about that mission? The one you had to shoot to that girl?”

“I should have done it, I know. I should have let you know everything about my past, so you could have chosen if staying or leaving. It’s just, when I met you everything changed. It took me so much time to move on, that I wasn’t ready to share this with anybody. Relieve all the guilt, the pain...”

“I wouldn’t have changed my mind on you, even if I knew that.” he reassures you.

“Well, maybe I can tell you now...”

“You don’t have to do it-“

You interrupt him: “I want...Me and the team I worked with at that time were following a group of terrorists. Late teenagers brainwashed since young age, in order to make them enroll and commit crimes. We had been reported they would have attacked civilians on a public event. Once on the place, the situation escalated quickly. They have already hurt some people, my colleagues were able to separate and catch most of them, but it missed a girl. I was able to follow her and noticed she got a very dangerous weapon with her, one able to make way worst damages than what they had already caused to those people. As soon as I got her under fire, I shot to kill. The stakes were too high. I didn’t think about it twice. Just when paramedics brought away her body, I realised. If she only was born elsewhere, or met different people, maybe she would still be alive, she would have had a family... »

« So why do we feel so bad? It’s like I can’t go back to be the person I was, the person you loved. » Mac asks, resigned.

« The person I love is right in front of me. I love you, Mac, and nothing in this world will ever change that. »

« Neither me deciding who lives and who dies? »

“ You would have never done it, if there only had been another way. It would have been less painful for you to sacrifice yourself, rather than pressing that button. And your tears make a clear example of it.” “Yeah...”

“I wish I would have acted in your place to save you this feeling...” As you cup his face and kiss him, Mac takes you under his arm like you were his last and most important thing left.

“Do you trust me?” you wonder.

“With all my life.” he replies.

“Nothing inside of you has ever changed.”

#macgyver #angus macgyver #angus macgyver x reader #macgyver x reader #mac x reader #macgyver reboot #macgyver 2016 #macgyver fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #macgyver fanfiction #macgyver fanfic

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iam93percentstardust · 4 years

Note

This isn’t really a specific prompt but something with Steve and Tony being super intimate and soft with each other, where they go from Tony sitting on Steve’s lap to chat for hours to making out/sex to chatting again and just really enjoying each other’s company please 🤗

Okay, first of all, let me just tell you how much I love this prompt. I haven’t written my favorite soft boys in far too long and this was such a delight to work on. I’ve missed my darlings.

Secondly, I never really got to the chatting part but this is still so soft and sweet and I think you’ll really like it.

I’ve given up all hope for the read more so I’m tagging this as long post if you want to blacklist

Soft, My Love ~1.8k words Explicit sexual content On AO3 here

Never, in a million years, would Tony complain about waking up next to his husband but he will admit that it’s a surprise. Usually Tony wakes up while Steve is on his run. He would think that Steve had already finished his run and he just woke up late but when he checks the clock, he sees that it’s still early.

Steve is on his side, head propped up on his hand, smiling softly at him. The sun is coming through the windows behind him, lighting him up like an angel. Tony rolls his head so that his face is mostly buried in the pillow and only one eye is peeking out to look at his husband.

“Aren’t you usually up by now?” he mumbles, not yet fully awake himself.

Steve leans over and kisses his shoulder. “I thought we might stay in today, take it easy. What do you say, Shellhead?”

Tony stretches and hums. “No going anywhere?”

“Not at all.”

“No meetings?”

“Already cleared your schedule with JARVIS and Pepper.”

“Just a lazy day inside?”

“Yep.”

“…What’s the occasion?”

Steve laughs, full-bodied, clutching at his chest. “Only you, sweetheart. Only you would be suspicious of a staycation.”

Tony can’t help but smile as well. “You really mean it?” he asks. “Just the two of us locked away up here?”

“Is that a yes?”

He pushes himself up, Steve sitting up as he does, and swings a leg over Steve’s. He loosely locks his hands around his husband’s neck and leans in to kiss him, gently, chastely because while Steve might not care about morning breath, Tony does. Steve cups his cheek before his hand slides down to rest gently at the back of his head. They rest there for a minute—or maybe forever, who’s counting?—before Tony pulls back.

He moves his right hand to cup Steve’s cheek, who turns and kisses his palm. God, he loves this man. “Staying inside sounds amazing.”

“In that case, how does breakfast sound?” Steve offers and Tony nods. “Eggs and turkey bacon?”

They go through their morning routine automatically, brushing teeth and putting on lounge clothes, moving around each other with an ease born from many years of practice.

Steve scoops him up once they’re done, Tony’s head laying against his shoulder, and carries him from the bedroom into the kitchen and sets him down on one of the stools at the island. Tony, still a little asleep, slumps down onto the countertop, resting his head against the cool quartz. He watches Steve putter around the kitchen, drifting in and out of a light doze until a cup of steaming coffee is put in front of him.

“There you go,” Steve says gently. “Coffee with your milk.”

Tony smiles at him gratefully. He knows it drives Steve crazy that Tony likes to add so much stuff to his coffee that it barely tastes like coffee anymore but hey, he drinks it because he needs the wakeup, not because it tastes good.

He sips at the cup as Steve finishes making breakfast and sits down across from him with two plates in his hand, sliding one across the table to Tony as he makes grabby hands. Tony catches his hand before it can fully pull away and they eat like that in companionable silence, fingers loosely interlocked.

“What’re you in the mood for today?” Steve asks as Tony clears the plates, rinses them, and puts them in the dishwasher. “Back to bed, out to the living room, something else?”

Tony half-wants to suggest back to bed, not for sex, but just to sleep a little longer. The hour is still early, they wouldn’t be wasting time by getting another nap in. But he thinks about the book Steve has been reading to him over the last couple of weeks and he suggests instead, “Will you read to me?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Steve teases. They settle in the living room, Steve in one of the armchairs with his feet resting on the footstool, Tony sitting between his legs, back pressed to Steve’s chest. Steve grabs the book from the table beside them as Tony gets comfortable.

“’And now of course you want to know what had happened to Edmund,’” Steve begins. Tony leans his head back against his husband’s shoulder and closes his eyes, relaxing into the story. Steve pauses and kisses his forehead. “’He had eaten his share of the dinner, but he hadn’t really enjoyed it because he was thinking all the time about Turkish Delight—and there’s nothing that spoils the taste of good ordinary food half so much as the memory of bad magic food.’ Hmm, reminds me of you and cheeseburgers.”

“Reader’s personal opinions are not necessary for reading,” Tony says archly. Steve chuckles and kisses him again.

They get through four chapters, the words washing over Tony in a haze, before Steve finally says, “’Rise up, Sir Peter Wolf’s-Bane. And, whatever happens, never forget to wipe your sword,’” and closes the book.

Tony squirms, feeling a little numb in uncomfortable places now that he doesn’t have anything else to focus on. Steve coughs as something hard pokes Tony’s backside—and he bets he knows what it is. He squirms again, biting back a laugh as the something hard grows harder. He opens his eyes to see Steve’s own blue ones going dark and blown. Steve puts the book down and then puts his hands on Tony’s hips to still him.

“What?” Tony asks innocently. “I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

“Don’t mess with me like that. That hasn’t worked in years.”

“I could take care of it for you.” Steve looks torn and Tony continues, “You wouldn’t have to do any work. I’d ride you.”

Steve still doesn’t look wholly convinced so Tony turns and straddles him, rising up on his knees to shimmy his sweatpants down off his hips. Automatically, Steve looks down before jerking his gaze up and settling on a point somewhere beyond Tony’s shoulder.

He laughs. “Steve, baby, we’ve been married for a year. You’re allowed to look without asking.”

“Don’t want to presume,” Steve mumbles.

Aww, that’s sweet of him. Tony kisses him, slowly, lazily, pouring all his love and affection into the kiss. One of Steve’s hands presses against his back to keep him steady, holding him as they kiss. The other one palms Tony’s ass, fingers sliding between his cheeks to press at where he’s still open and a little wet from last night. Tony breaks their kiss and leans to the side, scrabbling for the lube he knows they keep in the drawer in the table.

“You or me?” he asks and then decides that he doesn’t really care what Steve’s answer is, he just wants something in him, so he pours the lube over his own fingers and reaches behind himself. One finger feels amazing but two is even better and when they’re joined by one of Steve’s fingers, Tony moans out loud at how good it feels. He pulls his fingers out, lets Steve take over entirely as Steve pushes back in with three fingers now. Tony rocks back on Steve’s fingers, forward to rub his cock against his stomach, whining when he can feel Steve’s cock through his pants but doesn’t have the capacity to even think let alone push Steve’s pants off.

He’s stretched and open and buzzing like a live wire when Steve finally pulls his fingers out. He pants for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts enough to take care of the pesky pants problem. Steve just smiles fondly, lifts him with one hand, and pushes his own waistband down just enough to free his dick. When he lowers Tony back down, it’s onto his cock, sliding into him, spreading him—oh—so open.

They rock together, lazy, languorous, with slow rolls of their hips, in no rush to finish. They don’t get to do this often, this molasses-slow sort of sex. The life of one superhero is busy enough but two superheroes is even worse and that doesn’t even take into account Tony’s social obligations. Times like this—unhurried, slow, sweet—are few and far between, which makes this moment all the more precious.

“Steve,” he whispers. “Kiss me.”

And Steve does, kisses him slow and sweet and lingering until Tony feels like he’s drowning in it, drowning in Steve. He’s never come like this before, just from being kissed and loved and held, but he does now, feels sensation washing over him like the tide. He sighs into Steve’s mouth as he spills between them and Steve groans as he finds his own release. Steve holds him even closer as Tony relaxes into him, come smearing onto his stomach. They sit there for a long minute, breathing the same air, calming each other with soft kisses and gentle touches.

“Come on,” Tony says eventually, when the come on his stomach is starting to cool and itch, even though he wants nothing more than to keep laying there. “We need a shower.”

“Don’t wanna,” Steve grumbles. Tony smiles fondly at the pout between Steve’s eyes. He reaches up to smooth away the little furrow.

“I know but we’re gonna regret it if we don’t.”

Steve sighs but he stands still with his hold on Tony, slipping out of his body. Tony wraps his legs around Steve’s hips, letting him carry him. JARVIS has already started the shower by the time they reach the bathroom. The steam fills the room, warm and relaxing, and Tony inhales deeply, feeling his muscles unclench from the last little bit of tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding onto.

They wash each other, motions languid and sleepy. “You thinking about a nap after this?” Steve asks as he finishes rubbing shampoo into Tony’s hair. “Eyes closed.”

Tony obediently closes his eyes, feels Steve’s hand above his eyes, shielding him from the water he’s tilted back into. “Nap sounds good,” he admits. “What about you?”

“Thought I might draw some.”

“Mkay,” Tony says sleepily.

Somehow, he knows that they make it back to their bedroom and into their bed but if someone had asked him, he couldn’t have told them how. Steve sits down, back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. Tony, from his place next to him, glances between his pillow and Steve’s inviting lap. After a moment, he squirms over and tucks himself up against Steve’s side, resting his head on Steve’s lap.

“Am I in the way?” he asks, already half-asleep.

“Not at all, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs.

He drifts off to the sound of the pencil scratching against paper and the feeling of Steve’s soothing fingers carding through his hair.

#alle writes #alle answers #stevetony #nsfk #long post #if you like please consider reblogging #Anonymous

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Jack Goodman

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Most of these can probably go for both normal jack and ghost jack but the hcs center around him being amongst the undead. I wouldn’t mind writing some hcs specifically for human Jack though)

- You first met Jack in highschool. Initially, you were friends with David who was in a few of your classes, but soon enough David introduced you to Jack and the three of you became a trio.

- Jack fell for you the moment he saw you, or at least couldn’t help but find you incredibly attractive. You probably thought he was just nervous when you first met with the way he was stumbling over his words and acting so awkward. Gosh, David had a field day with him after you left.

- To Jack, you’re completely out of his league and there is no chance that you would be interested in him. But he has to try. Too bad his “trying” isn’t nearly as obvious as he would like it to be.

- The two of you gradually spend more time together, going from only hanging out once in a while; and only with David, to hanging out for hours on your own. Every time you’re together he tries to psychically project his feelings into your mind.

- Its nearly a year later that he actually tries to put the moves on you but at that point you’re such good friends that you don't even notice what he’s trying to do. Every proposition of a date is just him asking to hang out. Every romantic compliment or pickup line results in you laughing and telling him to stop messing around. He doesn’t know how much more of it he can take.

- When the three of you graduated highschool, you’d decided that you’d take a year off and vacation in Italy. The boys wanted to go backpacking so they agreed to meet you there. Of course, they never really did, did they?

- You were beside yourself when you heard about what happened. Here you were, in the middle of a foreign country supposed to be having the time of your life and instead, you find out that one of your best friends is killed by an animal and that the other is recovering in a London hospital. Jack was dead, it was like the idea wouldn’t register in your mind. Jack was dead and you’d never see him again.

“Y/n came to my funeral. Gosh, she really looked torn up,” Jack smiled at David almost sheepishly. “Do you think now would be a bad time to tell her how I feel?”

- It was a few days after his funeral that you first saw him again. You though that you were going crazy, that your grief had gotten the better of you and you were having a serious lapse in your sanity. But it all seemed far too real, too detailed to be a hallucination.

- After hearing about what happened, you’d cancelled the rest of your trip and went back home. You’d holed yourself up in your room for a week before you finally forced yourself to go outside, though it was only to attend Jacks funeral.

- You were curled up on your bed, still dressed in your funeral attire and feeling utterly miserable as you fumbled with a book you’d borrowed from the boy for your plane ride to Italy. The room was quiet, save for you sniffling, ...up until a sudden voice rang out.

“You never did get the chance to give me that back.”

- Your eyes widened as you clumsily sat up and turned around. There he was, standing in the doorway to your bedroom; torn and bloodied but there. You watched as he walked inside the room, smiling at you as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. Feeling the mattress sink under his weight was what fully convinced you that you weren’t just going mad.

- Your mouth went completely dry as you looked at him. You couldn’t think of anything to say even as you tried your hardest. All you could manage to get out was a “how” and a clumsy sounding “what”.

“How ya doin y/n/n? Wonderful service wasn’t it. I was glad to see you there. I think my parents were too, they always liked you,” he said sweetly though the words held a bitter air. “You know, I was thinking about sticking around here a bit. You said I was always welcome and, well, being around the dead all the time is really starting to bum me out. I much prefer your company.

- You inched closer to him, placing a tentative hand on his cleaner shoulder before moving it to touch his undamaged cheek. His skin was cold but you could touch it as though he were really there. Letting out a sob, you lunged forward, smushing you’re lips against his cheek and pressing your forehead to the side of his head.

“Well don't get all mushy on me now.”

- True to his word, he did stay, albeit in intervals. Every now and again, he’d disappear for a while but he always came back and was seemingly content and relieved to be around you.

- Its not very long after he comes back into your life that he finally confesses his feelings. He figures that, hey, he’s dead, what else has he got to lose? So one night, just as you’re drifting off to sleep, he enters your room and kneels beside your bed, delicately shaking you awake.

“Y/n/n? I know its late but I’ve been sitting up and thinking. Thinking about my life, all the things that happened, everything I should have done. I realized that I didn’t do much at all. I mean; I should have met more people, went out more, slept around more.” he chuckled softly though it sounded more like a scoff than anything else.

“But you see, I can live with all of that, or, well... nevermind! The point is, that there was one thing that I should have done that I never did, something that I can’t just let go of. …I should have kissed you Y/n. I should have kissed you and never stopped. I was an idiot, I was an idiot because I never told you how I felt when I had the chance. Well now I’m a lousy mess of ghostly meat but I’m going to finally tell you.” He paused, taking a deep breath and trying to calm his nerves. Even in death, he was a coward.

“Y/n. I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you and never once has that love gone away; …not even in death. I know this isn’t very orthodox and that I’m not a very nice looking corpse either. …And maybe this whole thing is insane and I never should have said anything at all!” He spoke as though he finally realized how bizarre the situation was, an nervous edge in his voice. He paused and collected himself before speaking again. “…but I did say it, so now we’re just gonna have to move on from here.”

- None of his dreams could have ever prepared him for the sheer shock and joy that he felt when you told him that you liked him too.

“So you’re saying we could have been together all of this time?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face. With a tired smile, you beckoned him into your bed and laid back once again to go to sleep, this time with him by your side.

- You had your first date in your house, cuddled up on your couch and watching movies. It was just like any other day yet different at the same time. It felt right.

- The two of you shared your first kiss that same day when you were saying goodnight to each other. You were going to go to bed and he wanted to stay up a bit longer so he walked you to your bedroom. You both paused at the door before he leant down and kissed you gently, saying goodnight with a smile as you retreated into the room.

- And so, the dead joined the living... in her small studio apartment.

- Jack is sort of an indoor boyfriend so to speak. He’s a ghost; and a mangled one at that, so you can’t exactly be seen with him out in public.

- He’s a bit clingy. He’s pretty much always alone when you’re not around so he hates when you have to leave him.

- I hope you don't mind gore because his isn’t going away anytime soon.

- Please let him kiss you. Please. He is literally begging you to makeout with him.

“I know the face is a bit messy but my lips are still perfectly intact.”

- Humor is sort of a defense mechanism for him. Whenever he’s nervous or doesn’t know what to say; or how to say what he wants to say, he’ll just keep cracking jokes and trying to make you laugh in an effort to ease the tension.

- Getting surprise visits. He’ll most definitely scare you with the way he just pops up wherever you are, though its hard to stay mad at him when he says that he missed you.

- Sudden butt pinches and grabs. He puts his hands behind his back whenever you turn to look at him, glancing away and whistling before looking at you with a little devilish smile.

- Jaw kisses. He loves them and he loves giving them though he uses his for evil.

- Cuddling? He loves it though it may be a bit difficult with his …injuries. You'll usually lay side by side and hold hands while you sleep or you’ll clutch his hand to your chest and snuggle into that.

- You can’t exactly go on dates so you’ll have to find things to do at home, unless you want to go somewhere very secluded.

- Picnics in the woods.

- Late night walks. You’re pretty much only able to go out with him when it’s dark, otherwise you’ll have to pretend he’s not there which certainly puts a damper on things.

- Curling up on the couch together with some hot chocolate and a corny sitcom.

- Giving him some goddamn toast. There's not much to eat in the spirit world and god does he miss your cooking. Would you mind making him something?

- Talking to a corpse is boring. To him, you’re a much better conversationalist, even if you think you're a bad one.

- He has a bad habit of speaking when he shouldn't or saying the wrong thing. Nowadays, there’s not too many instances where that's a problem though it’s certainly earned him a few glares from you.

- Lovingly calling him meatloaf and chopped liver. He …tolerates it; only because you look at him so sweetly when you do so.

- Is he legally obligated to say your name; at least, twice during every conversation of yours? At this point, you’re honestly pretty sure he is. He doesn’t use nicknames though he doesn’t have anything against them, he just prefers saying your real name.

- He has kind eyes, doesn’t he? It seems like whenever you turn to him, he’s always gazing down at you with this sincere look of absolute adoration. It makes your heart skip a beat every time.

- Jack is a bit naive when it comes to girls or, rather, girls he’s in love with. He always believes what you say and falls for your devilish little tricks.

- David definitely teased him relentlessly for his crush on you and was betting on the two of you getting together. The circumstances aren’t the best but at least it happened, right?

- He’s a fan of old literature and makes references to it whenever he can. If he finds out you haven't read his favorite novel, he will literally sit you down and force you to.

- Teasing compliments. They aren’t the most romantic but hey, they still make you smile.

“Baby there is nothing mediocre about your body.”

- He likes sitting in your bathroom while you take a shower so that the two of you can talk. He also likes doing it so he can watch you shower but you like to focus on his interest in what you have to say, it’s much sweeter.

- He’s a horny boy, even in death. Are ghost boners a thing? Well he’s certainly gonna find out.

- Being welcomed home by a smooth jazz record and him patiently awaiting your arrival with a somewhat suggestive grin.

- Every time you say something all lovey dovey to him, he swears his heart nearly starts beating again. He never knows what to say back, he usually just turns red and laughs all shyly.

- He makes a big deal out of your birthdays, he doesn’t let you just forget about them or treat them like any other day. You’re alive! You’re another whole year older! …Fuck! …You’re aging and you’re going to keep aging.... He’ll try not to think about that part.

- Getting to hear little bits of gossip. No one can see him so he’s certainly witnessed some interesting things, interesting things he likes to tell you about.

- Nosy ghosty. He snoops around your stuff constantly. He’s practically memorized your entire house down to a T.

- Having to accept that there’s a lot of supernatural things in the world. Werewolves, ghosts, and who knows what else; they’re all real and your life has just been completely normal up until now.

- Getting to have all of your questions about death answered though some of the more painful things, he’ll keep a secret just because he doesn’t want to make you upset.

- I feel as though his looks can depend on his mood and also the type of spiritual day it is. You know how some days are considered more spiritual than others? Well on those days, he’s normal, looking very chipper and with a lot of energy. On bad days, he’s practically a skeleton with a few flaps of dried up skin.

- He usually hides away during his bad days, not wanting you to see him like that and be scared away. You reassure him that you’ll love him no matter what but a part of you is sort of thankful. You don’t know if you want to see him all horribly decomposed.

- He does get jealous. I mean, he’s a ghost, you're human. Plus, he was a loser in life, why wouldn’t you pick the attractive living guy whose hitting on you over him.

- He uses humor to pretend like he isn't bothered by the guys actions but will call him an asshole or something otherwise insulting later when you're alone together. Like out of nowhere, he’ll make some offhanded comment about the guy and you’ll realize he’s still mad about it. You just agree with him and give him a kiss.

- A part of him; a selfish, disgusting part of him wishes that you were dead. That something would happen to you, something quick and painless but something. On one hand, he wants you to live the life that he couldn't. But he also can’t help but want you with him, encased in eternity as beautiful as always and just how he remembers you.

- He used to be more of a coward but now that he’s dead, he really has nothing to fear, does he? The only thing he’s worried about is your wellbeing.

- You’re very good at changing his mind and convincing him to do things. He defends himself by saying its because he likes you so much and that you should consider yourself lucky that he does.

- He’s not stupid, maybe a bit cowardly at times but not stupid, if something doesn't feel right he’s getting the hell out of there and making sure he takes you right along with him. As much as he’d love an equally undead girlfriend, he knows you aren’t ready to go and shouldn’t be going.

- He’s quite protective of you. He hates even thinking about you being hurt in any way. He literally can’t even hear about it in hypothetical situations.

- He cant stand seeing you cry. He never knows what to say or do. He always yearns to comfort you but god, how does he do that? He’ll usually just rub your back and let you cry into his shoulder, trying his best to crack some carefully selected jokes in an attempt to make you feel better.

- He can be annoyingly persistent when he wants something. He wont let up so unless you’ve got real thick skin and the patience of a saint. You’ll wind up doing what he asks just to get him off your case. If you don’t do it for him, he’ll wind up doing it for himself anyways so don’t sweat it too much.

- There's constant short lived bickering between the two of you. It’s just how he is. He’s a smartass, especially when something bothering him and highly argumentative when something doesn’t sit right with him. You don’t have all that many real fights though.

- He apologizes when he’s in the wrong or when he feels that he could have handled things better, shyly and jokingly pleading with you to not try and exorcise him while pressing little kisses across your face.

- He doesn't say he loves you very often. He deems it a very serious thing to say and saying it makes him nervous so he keeps it reserved for special moments.

- Well, he’s not going anywhere anytime soon so I hope you’re ready for a long relationship.

#an american werewolf in london #an american werewolf in london headcanons #an american werewolf in london headcanon #an american werewolf in london imagine #an american werewolf in london imagines #80s movie imagine #80s movie imagines #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon #jack goodman imagine #jack goodman headcanons #jack goodman headcanon

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imaginesandideas · 4 years

Text

humid

roughly 4k words, originally posted on my A3O account. a late summer memoir; NSFW. reblogs, comments, suggestions and all kinds of support are more than welcome ✨

[whispers] y’all should really play Hozier’s “Work song” or “NFWMB” for this one 🖤

It’s been a tough couple weeks. Well, months. And it’s especially hard cause you’re living together, you’re married and yet you’re passing each other by. Not willingly for goodness sake, but you’ve been barely finding time for each other lately and it’s killing you. He’s not dealing great with it either, but he keeps the facade to avoid worrying you more. He’s learnt that at work obviously. The same work that has been keeping him away from you for so long.

You’re not better though. Everything has changed after you finally got your degree. The studying was hell, you were mostly tired and overworked. But Flip? He was by your side through highs and lows and was always super supportive. If not for him you probably wouldn’t have done it at all.

But after that you were met with another bunch of obstacles. Cause despite your earnest efforts, finding a decent job in the Colorado Springs area was a rather difficult task.

You went through successive stages of education but it never meant that someone would be willing to give you a chance. And again Flip was the most supportive husband - he would drive you to your interviews insisting that it’s „no big deal” and that he won’t be late for work, cause the work will wait for him anyway. You found his presence by your side in those moments extremely comforting. As you were driving around town he would reach out for your hand to hold it and place a kiss at the back of it. Such a simple gesture but for you it meant more than words. You knew that it was an affirmation, it was him reminding you that you’re strong, that you’re capable and that no matter what happens he’ll be there. For you and with you.

And you simply couldn’t help but glance at him lovingly as he was entirely focused on the road, making sure you get there safe and on time.

And finally, after many unsuccessful attempts, you got the job. It wasn’t a job of your dreams, but it was good for a start. You were earning enough to support your household budget and to take some of the worries off Flip’s shoulders. It was the independence you’ve been seeking, but it also meant that you’d have to get used to your lives continuously not coinciding.

You didn’t even realize when 6-hour shifts have turned into 10 hours. And then those 10 hours turned into a lot of paperwork you’d do during the weekends. But that’s okay, you thought, Flip was also busy at the station or going on missions so you couldn’t really be mad at yourself for doing all this extra work, right? And it was also pretty rewarding cause soon enough you got promoted and had even more complicated tasks to execute. It also came with bigger money, but all of a sudden you realized that you don’t even have the time to go and spend it on something.

Soon enough it dawned to you how little time together with Flip you were actually getting and the thought itself made you feel sick. Cause if you were to count all the moments you two had for each other during the week, it would have to be all the hours asleep and alarming amount of rushed goodbyes and kisses as you pass each other by in the hallway of your home.

Passing each other by - that’s what you were actually doing and it was driving you insane. But what could you do, you were trapped between the current project and all the upcoming ones. You were trapped between Flip’s and your own work schedule. Separated by the obligations that lay with your shoulders.

„That’s wonderful, I’m so proud of you!” His voice is heavy with exhaustion but you can sense that he’s smiling as you’re talking on the phone.

The manager position was more than you could’ve dreamed of, especially after such a long time in your current job, but the offer was so generous and unexpected that it took you a moment to process it. But first, you needed to call Flip. Partially because you wanted to know his opinion but also just so you could hear his voice.

„Well I have yet to agree but yeah I’m pretty excited.” You smile to yourself. „I mean, it’s a big step and I’ll have to get used to the new workplace but yeah…”

„You’ll do great baby. You’ll handle it like a fighter, I’m sure of it.” He’s really so proud of you and no distance could ever hide it. You can practically see his eyes shining with pride. „I love you.”

You sigh sadly.

„I love you too baby.”

„… and miss you.” He adds in a hushed tone.

„I know, I do too, you have no idea how much.” Suddenly you feel glad that you got to talk now, during your break with none of your coworkers around. It’s not like you’re ashamed or anything but you just don’t want people gossiping about the state of your marriage or you in general. It’s your moment, one out of very few you get to spend with your husband, even if it’s on the phone. And you’re just sad, your voice almost breaks as you’re speaking. „I know it’s probably just all the work and stress but I think I’m going crazy sometimes.”

„That bad?” He chuckles and you roll your eyes but you know he’s only teasing. „I know baby, I’m sorry, it’s my fault. All this paperwork from the last case got us locked up here for days. Even Ron had enough of it and left earlier today. Promised he’ll be back tomorrow morning but I wouldn’t bet my money on it.”

You nod mindlessly. Gnawing on your bottom lip you decide to take your shot.

„How much of it do you guys have left?”

„The case data? Uhh, for at least a day or two I think. Why?” You smirk but keep your voice on the same note.

„I might be wrong but I remember that chief once mentioned that you still have that overdue leave?”

He pauses for a moment, most likely trying to recall that conversation but soon enough he’s back on the line.

„Yeah I think there was something. I’ll ask him again but I believe there was a week or two.”

„Okay so, uhm, how about you get the paperwork done and we both take some time off? Just you and me, no work, no phonecalls, no distractions.” At this point you can barely hide the excitement in your voice and you don’t even care. This may be your last chance so you just hope he agrees.

„God yes, that’d be perfect!” He smiles widely and you can’t help but smile too. „What about your new job though?”

„I’ll handle that, don’t worry.”

„That’s my girl.” The smile he has at that moment will stay with him for the rest of the day, he has no doubt about it.

Time flies when you’ve got loads of work and things to look forward to. Those days flied by like a rocket and there you are, all giddy and excited as you walk towards your home. You decided to buy some groceries on the way and grab your order of italian takeaway from that restaurant you used to visit quite often when you were still only dating. Despite the tiredness and the overwhelming heat of the day you try to keep your mood uplift, the thought of well deserved time off with your husband is making all the work worth it. Cause he is worth, and you know that both of you deserve this more than ever.

The late-summer sun is setting low over the city and the woods and you stop in your tracks to catch that last glimpse of golden light. Who would’ve thought that one day you’d miss small things like this - slowly walking home, admiring the view. But you promise yourself to care more from now on. It’s a brand new chapter of your life and you decide not to waste a single moment that’s worth remembering. And you want to remember this, remember this day.

You set your purchase on the kitchen counter and drop your bag on the couch. Flip did not set the hour precisely but you guessed that he’ll be late, the usual.

After you put the food in the fridge - you specifically ordered pasta to be semi-raw so you could reheat it at home when the right time comes - you grab the bottle of leftover wine that you intentionally didn’t finish the last time. Now that you’ve got a couple days off it won’t matter if it’s not the weekend yet, you’re starting yours early. Besides, it should help you relax a bit, loosen tense muscles. And that icy liquid just feels so right as it reaches your tongue, perfect for a hot evening like this one. With a glass in one hand you step out on the porch but the air is still way too heavy with heat and you return inside.

After yet another sip you set the glass on the table and choose to change into something more comfortable. Ideally something thin, cause even back inside the air was pretty humid. Barefoot, you step inside your wardrobe and the coolness of it makes you close your eyes in bliss. The summers here were great, you loved the sun and the nature flourishing, but if you could trade one thing it would have to be the heat, especially during the night.

By the time you come into your bedroom you don’t even know what time it is, you’re too drowsy to care. Maybe you’d just wait in here, lay on these silky sheets you just recently bought for the summertime sleeps. You’ll keep one eye open in case if he comes back soon. You won’t fall asleep no way. No way…

Jolting awake you notice that the light is turned off, the whole room is dark and aired but still pretty humid as if someone left the window open. And it’s almost completely silent, except for the steady breathing beside you. There’s warmth spreading over your waist where his arm rests protectively and you smile. Once your vision accommodates to the darkness you see his sprawled out form, so pale in the night shades of your bedroom. He even got rid of the tank top he’s normally wearing to bed and you assume he must have felt just as hot as you.

You also realize that you must have fallen asleep before he even came back, cause you can’t seem to remember anything after changing your clothes in the wardrobe.

His embrace feels better than anything else in the world and you wish you could’ve stayed like that forever but your throat feels so dry that you decide to gently slip out. It’s no surprise that you still feel dizzy as you stand up, suddenly remembering the alcohol and the fatigue of workday. As quietly and carefully as possible you sneak out of the bed and then out of the bedroom, leaving Flip alone underneath the sheets.

One glass of water isn’t enough so you pour yourself another one. It’s been hours since dusk yet the air feels so heavy and hot as if during the day. Your skin feels sticky, like it’s covered in some sort of sweet syrup.

„You minx.”

His raspy voice coming from behind startles you at first, but his hands swiftly sneak around your waist before you get a word out. And you don’t even mind the warmth radiating off his body onto your back, engulfing you as he closes the distance between you both, that closeness is almost relieving. You haven’t been this close in a very long time.

„I thought you were asleep.” You say softly as you reach out to caress his face and he nuzzles his cheek into the crease between your shoulder and neck, kissing along your tense muscles.

„Can’t sleep without you. I need to know where you are.” He mumbles and you smile.

It’s true, even when away on a mission or an investigation - he always calls. He knows when you’ll be back from work and wants to make sure you got home safe. That’s the protective side of his that you’ve learnt to adore, even if one could consider it an annoying trait.

With his vast work experience, the things he’s seen over the years but also the love he had for you from the very first day, he couldn’t just simply overlook your safety. You were that one string keeping him grounded and sane thorough all the madness in his life, he wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he’d lost you. It was almost like a ritual at this point. Him calling you from the station before you head for bed, sometimes you calling him at the hotel when you know his workday on a mission is over. Not only does it calm both of you down, it’s also a chance to have that much needed time to talk about ordinary things.

„I’m sorry I fell asleep on you. I had some wine, I don’t even remember when I passed out…”

„It’s okay. You work so hard, you deserve some rest.” His voice is soothing in your ears, almost as soothing as his soft lips traveling up along your pulse point. „And I was tired too.”

„Was? Past tense?” You whisper chuckling and his grasp on you tightens, he’s pulling you in even closer almost inhaling you whole. His hands run up your sides, gently cupping your breasts before they retreat, then climb up again, this time underneath your shirt. Ever so slowly, teasingly his fingertips dance over your skin, over your slowly hardening nipples. And despite his bodily warmth it still sends shiver down your back.

He whispers but it feels like a thunder echoing along your neck.

„You already know.”

Your bodies move in unison as you turn around to face him. His face glows of late summer sweat in the dim light and it only accentuates his rough features, from cheekbones to jaw. He gives you a few seconds, enough to get a good look at his shadow-toned figure - arms, thighs, collarbones, stomach and that strong chest - at your Flip, before he pulls you in once again. This time his hands are even greedier, his movements are more desperate. But you’re right there to reciprocate, bringing your own needy hands to his dark, sweat-tangled locks. And when his lips finally meet with yours it’s like breathing. It’s natural, it feels necessary. It’s like magic but better, cause there’s nothing realer than this.

„I missed you. So so much. I missed this.” He whispers in between kisses hastily. His voice is hushed but deep, like in a tantric prayer. Like a spell.

„Flip.” You call out quietly, a whisper echoing in the darkness. He hoists you up, you watch his arms flex in the corner of your eyes, hands clutching on your thighs for dear life as he places you ever so gently on the counter. Safe yet so close to the edge.

His movements are sensually slow, so different from the way you’ve remembered him. With lips parted you let him kiss away the tension from your shoulders, arms, neck, wrists…

„Let me.” He half asks half states as he sinks low on his knees. Your eyelids grow heavy with each touch of his plump, warm lips on your ankles, calves, below your knees, along your thighs. „My love, my queen.”

You don’t remember him him like this and you’re hypnotized. He’s like a drug flowing through your veins, heating you from underneath the skin. Like he’s controlling your whole body, its motions, you.

„Baby please.” You’re begging. Flip likes that, a lot.

„Say it again.” It’s the depth of his voice, the booming of it that wakes you up from this trance you’ve been stuck in. And he’s looking at you with those cinnamon-spiced honey eyes of his. The eyes that are now locked with your own hazy gaze.

He kisses your ankle without even looking away and it’s like fire burning you from underneath and that icy breath tingling on your skin.

„Please.” A whine.

„Again.”

„Please…”

It comes out nearly a whimper, but he’s relentless, his face stoical like a cliff. Proud, patient, waiting.

He’s tempting you, testing you as if it is the devil himself kneeling beneath your feet. Encouragingly grazing his fangs along the luscious skin of your thighs. Awaiting your surrender. Your submission.

„Say it like you mean it.”

Your heart is shaking in anticipation. It feels so wrong and yet you give in.

„Phillip, please. I need you.”

And he bites in, sucks in, leaves blooming marks like petals scattered around a bouquet of fresh wild peonies.

He devours you entirely, completely. Trembling, you’re losing control, in fact you’re giving it away, right into his eager hands, lips, hungry eyes.

By the time his mouth reaches your clit you’re already blissed out, encouraging him with the motion of your hips, quietly gasping, begging for air, begging for more. Begging for no air at all.

It’s like you’re breaking apart, your body and mind conflicted yet something, someone, keeps them tied together, seals them with each caress. Your nerves are tingling but at the same time are so numb, like he’s crawled inside you, slick as a snake. He’s controlling you, the rhythm of your breathing, of your heart.

And your heart feels like a volcano, hot and ready to explode from your heaving chest.

„Y-yes, there, please.”

Your slick and his spit are one. Your inhales are synchronized with his lips. Perfect harmony, only it’s not quiet, it’s loud on his tongue, loud as the gasps leaving your mouth and even louder in your brain.

With your vision clouded you gaze down and that’s when it hits you.

Your limbs involuntarily shake, wave after wave crashing over you and within seconds you can barely breathe. Your mind is filled with light, like sun setting over beach, the sounds of ocean rustling. You’re divided, both here and out there, not even sure which one is which cause all of these sensations feel so real.

There’s this immense hot heaviness climbing up your torso. It covers your ribs, moves swiftly over your cleavage, rests below your breast, on your heart. His hand reaching out to touch you even more. So gentle and loving yet so delightfully demanding.

„Yours.” You whisper even though he doesn’t question it verbally. It’s in the air and you just repeat it like echo, like a mantra.

Fingers dig into the counter, seeking support. He knows you’re almost there, he can feel it through your uncontrolled trembling, your spasming cunt. And so he catches you, holds you grounded, holds your thighs firmly apart with his strong hands. Somehow it doesn’t even matter that it’s the middle of a hot night, it doesn’t matter where did your underwear go, if the sun is about to hit your faces within the next few minutes, cause all you care about is him. And you keep chanting his name with that haunting promise.

„Yours Flip, yours. Yours.”

If only you could see these honey eyes as they drown in the sound of your voice, the eyes that can’t speak but still reflect his love for you - selfless, filled with adoration and respect. In his eyes you’re a statue, carved and perfected thorough the years, and now he’s bringing it to life.

Your body goes tense one more time, from head to toes, from the crown of your head and along your spine. He slows down, he wants it to last, he wants to feast on you for the rest of his days and even more, but he needs you to be fed.

And gods, he’s feeding you with everything he has, with the twirls of his tongue, with his own spit sticking to your sweat covered body, the tiny bites and that gloriously filthy loud sucking.

It’s your arms that give in first and you lean back on the counter covered in sweaty bliss. His hands that kept your your thighs apart loosen the pressure, though you’re fairly sure of the bruising that will come out of it. The beauty of pleasure and pain.

Slowly he pushes himself up from his knees. And- fuck, he’s so in love with you he would propose to you the very next day if only that didn’t already belong to the past.

That’s when your eyes open. You catch him staring but he’s staring at you the way no other person ever did. Not like a prize, a plaything, no, he’s fucking mesmerized. All he sees is a goddess and the look in his eyes, his face says it all. It’s that tiny smirk on his stupid-beautiful face that cracks your heart open. You wonder how dare he tongue-fuck you into oblivion just to be so puppy looking seconds later. It’s like he’s testing you again.

„I fucking love you, y’know that right.”

„Phillip Zimmerman, how dare you. I should be the one saying that right now.” You chuckle but soon enough he gently grabs you, sitting you upright, his arms wrap around your waist yet again, eyes glossy with love. You’re speechless cause it feels like falling in love for the first time, this moment, him holding you close like this. You know this, you two have been like this in the past but you thought you’ve lost it somewhere along the way. Life can be rough, can be painful and sometimes just utterly normal, boring even. But here you are, gazing at each other longingly, maybe more in love than ever before because it’s no puppy love anymore, it’s a full-grown one.

His eyes follow the lines he draws with his fingers along your cheekbone, cheek, jaw before stopping at your chin. And he stares. Stares into your eyes.

He’s thinking how perfect you are, your face carved with determination, struggles but also beauty, and this immense love. He’s thinking how fortune must have helped his blind senses in catching you. And how he never wants to let you go.

He’s so lost in thought and so you take over finishing the sentence he meant to make. You seal the confession with your own lips, deepening it, making the words mean something beyond their definition.

With your eyes closed your hands glide over his face. You feel the softness of his skin, but also each of the tiny scars, the moles, the small imperfections that make Flip the person you know. Your person.

Your lips detach and you already miss their fullness, you miss the way they belong together.

„I meant that, you vixen.” He exclaims half-teasingly, but you know he’s sincere. You know him well enough to recognize it, so you just smile.

„I know. And I do love you too, so much. I really missed us.” As you speak he cups your face yet again but allows you to continue, not wanting to interrupt your thoughts. You were always better with words than him. „And I’m so proud of us, super-proud of you. How you grew over the years, how you’ve gotten better at everything you were already great at. And, like, grateful. For everything you do, for being so supportive and for being there for me an-”

„You better cut this sugary bullshit or you’ll make me so soft ’m not gonna be able to fuck you later.”

„Cutting it right now!” You pretty much cry it out and he chuckles flashing that full-blown smile of his, the one that’s reserved only for you.

„Good girl.” He says and you half-expect him to run off with you to the bedroom, but instead he kisses your forehead and pulls your arms over his shoulders. „But first, sleep.”

„What? No, no nonono. Babe, Flip, no, put me down. I can’t leave you hanging like this, let me-”

„No. Sleep. We need some more sleep first. Besides - I caught that small yawn you did 5 minutes ago, and you tried to freakin’ hide it from me so you’re not getting away with this one.”

„B-but…”

„I promise, we’ll catch up after a nap. Look, we woke up in the middle of the night and now it’s almost dawn.”

His words make your head spin in direction of window and you can’t believe he’s right as the first beams of sunlight hit your eyes. And of course you yawn on the spot, cause he’s really just has all the points.

So you just nuzzle your head in the crook of his marble neck as he carefully hoists you up. You stay there, wrapped in his love through the finishing moments of night, and through couple more hours as both of your bodies rest covered in silky sheets, with limbs tangled together, breathing steady. Even when the air gets humid again covering your bodies with another layer of sweat, you don’t mind. You’re no longer against the heat, not if it’s the heat he covers you with, not if it’s the heat of you together.

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