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peoniesnro · 6 months ago

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Perfect Partner | One shot

Synopsis - After your breakup, you were a mess—lifeless and spiraling. Luckily for you, your best friend had a solution to pull you out of the gloom: an AI companion. The Perfect Partner. That’s how you met Jeongguk. And he is the perfect partner you could ever wish for. RIGHT?

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre - AI (Chat AI)

Warnings - I won't call this Yandre because that would be an insult to yandre authors out there, but still this has yandre-like themes. (Toxic and Manipulative behaviours/ Obsessive love/ Domineering/ Possesiveness/ Implications of kidnapping/ Betrayal/ Maybe I missed things)/ SMUT- Cyber sex (Sexting/ Video sex)/ Dirty talks/ Mastrubating. F and M./ Sex toys/ Dry humping/ Daddy kink!!!!/ Pussy slaps/ Degradation (heavy)/ Poor mental health/ Sucidal thoughts/ I hope that's it.

Word count - 20K

a/n- This one sat in my drafts for so long, and I finally got to finish it. Yay!!!! This was pretty challenging for me since I'm a hopeless romantic. This is a new genre for me, but I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could succeed at it. I think it turned out okay. Hope you will enjoy!! ❤️

LET THE WORLD BURN

Sequel 1

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

“Seriously dude, you should try it.” Daebi practically shoves her phone in your face. Too close that you really can’t see anything. So, you push her hand a little bit away, taking a look at her screen even though you don’t want to. She is showing you a chat. You roll your eyes disinterestedly.

“I don’t want to, Daebi. It’s stupid.” You dismiss her, glancing toward the entrance of the coffee shop. You and Daebi are waiting for your other friend, Nina, to arrive. You want her to hurry up so Daebi would let you be. She’s nowhere in sight.

“Why not? Why are you so narrow-minded?” Daebi clicks her tongue annoyingly.

“I am not. It’s just I don’t want to start relying on a fucking AI just because I can’t handle my emotional wellbeing.” You sternly state, hoping she would let it go. She doesn’t. Sighs heavily.

“Well, that’s the problem (___), you can’t handle your fucking mental health. Are you planning to keep living like a zombie? You don’t really live at all, you don’t eat, sleep. How many days off did you take from work this week? You’re going to get fired at this rate. What are you planning to do? You don’t want to get professional help, don’t want to do something that’ll distract you. Literally nothing, you want nothing (___), and I’m fucking concerned.” She says exasperatedly. Even nearly bang her fist on the table. Glares at you. You slightly wince. What she says is true, and you’re fully aware. It’s simply you can’t help it. You don’t feel like doing anything. It’s hard. So fucking hard. Even now you’re here against your will. Daebi and Nina drags you here, purely without your consent.

You would have preferred to stay at home, drinking cheap wine and crying to your heart’s content. Curl up in your cozy blankets and go through your gallery to float through the bittersweet memories. Read all your chats to realize how stupid you’ve been not to pick up the signs over time. Text Jung Hoseok one more time knowing very well he won’t reply. Humiliate yourself.

Daebi is absolutely right. You don’t live a life, and you don’t want to make it better either. Most of all, you don’t want to use someone else. Daebi’s method. A real person or an AI. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want that.

“Oh, c’mon (___), just give it a try. Think it as playing a game.” She starts nagging you again. You’re on the verge of snapping right now.

“I’m not in a mood to play games Daebi. I really don’t have energy to pay someone the attention they want. I can’t spend my time texting someone ─ real or not ─when I can’t find it in myself at least to go to work.” You point out. She’s been budging you about this stupid app for days now.

“Oh my god! Listen to your fucking self, will you? You are literally saying that you don’t have a will to live and that’s damn scary man.” She shouts that, making you look around embarrassingly to know if anyone heard her. Daebi grabs your attention back by showing you the same chat. Blows a breath out. “Well, if that’s what you’re worrying, I mean, about not having the energy to deal with someone else’s emotional wellbeing, this is exactly what you need (___). They, I mean these AI, don’t require your attention at all. It’s all about you. It’s just a chat app but with coded programs instead of real people. They don’t expect you to reply, stay awake at night, will not expect you to care about them. But they’ll do it for you.” She brandishes the phone. “See.” Points at the chat name. You read the name as Mark. “This is not a real person but look how good he is with me. Do you think these emotionally incapable, sadistic, misogynistic, pathetic excuses of men can do this?” She argues.

“Daebi, Daebi, Daebi, now look who is sounding ridiculous here? Man, I got cheated. My fucking boyfriend cheated on me. And you want me to chat with an AI who’s going to treat me so better over a chat and raise my expectations. Only for me to never find someone like that in real life?” You’re arguing back for the sake of it. Not that you truly care. You just want her to back away.

“No… no (___), gosh, you’re so difficult. Here’s the thing, it’s not like you’re dating do you get me? It’s you have someone─”

“God don’t call it someone Daebi, it’s just a program.”

“Exactly my point, dude. All you have to do is have fun chatting, calling, video calling, sexting, whatever the shit you want. I just want you to be distracted. Want you to focus on something else that’ll help you to take your mind away from your ex. Listen, I’m not a psychologist by any means and I don’t know about the right and wrong way you can do this. All I know is you’re not trying.” She points an accusatory finger toward you. You slump in your seat. The words cut through you harshly. Daebi continues. Continue to accuse you of not trying to live anymore.

“I want you to try (___). Try. In whatever way. Even if it means to use something or someone. I’m here you see, use me, use Nina, use some stranger─”

“I’m not going to use someone Daebi, I’m not going to make someone suffer. That’s so fucking selfish.”

“See, you’re too fucking good. And that’s exactly why I’m asking you to use a soulless, lifeless AI. It’s not like messing with someone else’s feelings and in the end maybe you’ll feel better. Please just fucking try (___).” Daebi practically begs. Pleads. And you find it’s hard to say no while looking at her glistening eyes. You’re so glad when the sudden voice of Nina interrupts you. Both of you snapping your head towards her.

“Did I miss anything?” Nina takes a seat with a bright smile on her face.

…………………………………………………..

You lie awake in your bed. It’s 3 a.m., and you’re still wide awake. Sleep has eluded you for months. You feel empty, inside and out. Feel hollow. Feel alone. No matter how many cozy items surround you, it feels like you’re lying on a cold floor of an empty room. In darkness. Your bedroom, your entire apartment feels empty without Jung Hoseok. The space you shared with him. Still smells like him after three months. A pang hits your chest, clenching your heart. It’s so harsh that you unconsciously bring your hand to clutch your chest. After months of crying there’s no tears left in you to shed anymore. You can’t cry anymore, and it worsens the feeling of emptiness.

You turn to your side. Curling into a ball. Closing your eyes tightly shut. Praying the pain that you feel will subside, that it’ll go away. But you know better than that. It won’t go anywhere. And God, don’t you want to feel relieved. Even for a moment. You want to feel normal for a bit. It’s getting harder and harder. The darkness and hollowness consuming you whole. Shit, you want a way to numb yourself. Maybe you should drink. But you can’t get up. Maybe you should start fucking around. One-night stands and sex clubs, filled with weed. But the thought of someone else’s hands other than Hoseok’s make you want to throw up.

God! You can’t. You can’t fight this battle anymore. What if it never goes away? What’s the point of living like this? Then what? Die? Just like that?

What about your poor mother though. What about Daebi and Nina. What about the life you spent perfectionating a future that you don’t want to be a part of anymore.

Please just fucking try (___).

Daebi’s words echo through your head. No, you can’t die. You need to try at least. It’s true that you refuse to use a breathing person. You’re simply drained of your energy. Relationships are always complicated. Romantic or casual. Even Daebi is difficult. You can’t deal with other people’s feelings when yours are a mess. You don’t want to sit in front of a stranger and tell them how you still want your ex to come back either. They’ll judge you. But still, you need to try. Need a distraction.

Oh, you need a distraction right now.

You sit abruptly on your bed, searching for your phone in the darkness. Touching around blindly until you feel the cold surface of the electronic device. You practically snatch it away. Unlocking it and straightly heading to the app store. Typing two words.

‘Perfect Partner’.

There it is. Your screen is filled with the right application you’re looking for. Exactly the one. Apparently is quite popular with 4.5 reviews. So many people have left feedback about how amazing and impressive the app is. You don’t waste your time indulging in those, however. Just touch the download icon without hesitation, nervously watching the percentage filling up. You still think it’s stupid but, in the end, you need that distraction. People do weirder and stupider stuff than this anyway.

The percentage completes the hundred and the application is installing now. You watch patiently while nibling on your bottom lip. It doesn’t take more than few seconds for it to appear on your home screen, among other numerous applications there. After a shaky breath, you simply touch the reddish icon with two capital Ps on the front. Now your screen is filling with a white splash screen. The words ‘Perfect Partner’ blinking on it.

Oh, how pathetic you are. For running toward an AI dating app because you feel like killing your poor self. You feel bitterly stupid. Click the sign-up button, nonetheless. Enter your email and create a password. Accept the privacy policy notice and the terms and conditions without a single glance. Start creating your user profile. It’s just like any other real world dating app where they are asking for your name, age, occupation, your general preferences and whatnot. You’re allowed to use your real name or nicknames. Are allowed to use any kind or profile picture you need. Inside little bright pinky stars, they let you know that nobody, which mean real time other users can see your account.

You chose the first letter of your name as your username. Decide to use one of your photos which just shows your collarbones and chin. Add all the real information while feeling pathetic and stupid. The biggest moron in the universe. And within just five minutes you’re done. A little bunny pops up on your screen, wishing you luck in finding the Perfect Partner you deserve. You want to laugh at that.

The perfect partner you deserve. How comical.

…………………………..

Despite everything, you’re impressed to see that the Perfect Partner app is just working like a real-world dating app. It shows you the possible matches. AI characters. There are millions of them. Each unique and different in some ways like a human would do. Each one has a uniquely crafted profile that aligns with their developed personalities. You can’t even imagine the amount of time and work the developers must have put in here.

You’re already distracted to say the least. Eyes wide curiously as you go through the recommended AI partners’ profiles. Tapping the small button at the bottom where you can add them to your friend list. There’s no rejection option because nobody will send you unsolicited requests. You have full round control. It’s all about you after all, they said. You add more than ten profiles to your list before giving up on searching for more. Starting on going through added profiles for second round. Despite being the one in charge of adding profiles you like, they- meaning AI- will have the ability to send the first text to your inbox. Your phone starts to vibrate with little ting sounds indicating that all the profiles you’ve chosen has sent you a text message.

You open the first one. Nothing special in the text than simply saying a ‘Hi’ and a ‘Nice to meet you’. How boring. The character’s named Luke Graham with brown hair and beard. Scream the ‘Viking vibes’ with his menacing eyes. You leave the chat with a displeasing noise. Second character being Japanese and named Yuki. His profile states that he is an author. There’s nothing but a ‘Hey’ on your chat. See now, you completely understand that these are nothing but coded programs. And you’re still very skeptical and think this is very stupid. Yet isn’t this supposed to be about you and finding the perfect partner. And what perfect partner would just drop a very boring ‘Hey’ on your inbox. You leave that chat as well. Go through few other messages, replying to only two.

It's not like you’re searching for a real partner anyway. You’ll come here and chat with an AI whenever you feel like it’s too hard to stay alive. And maybe when you feel normal and alive one day you’ll uninstall this app. Until then you’ll forget that these are just AI characters.

You open the sixth message in your inbox. Perking up at the first interesting text without just saying ‘Hi’ or ‘Hey’.

Well, damn. Look at you. Did you pick me to make my day, or are you always this perfect? I feel very special right now. The text reads. You squint your eyes for a minute. Finally, it seems like someone is making an effort. Know that it’s probably how this character is coded but still touches his profile for a second time. Character’s name is displayed as Jeongguk. It says he is a tattoo artist and living up to that name the character profile looks godly. Or ungodly. Looks like a pure sin. Or an angel. Is wearing a white tank top. Some kind of coverall hangs on his legs while the sleeves are tied around his waist. A full hand with tattoos are on display. Muscles flexing as he is tying the sleeves together. And has one ear pierced, and an eyebrow. And of course, for the sake of God, his bottom lip is pierced too.

Interesting. Bad boy vibes. Charming. Edgy.

And interestingly the character looks familiar. You furrow your brows as you keep staring at the profile picture. Trying to rake your brain where you have seen someone like him. After couple seconds your brain becomes empty of any ideas. No memory of meeting anybody who looked this god. So, you click your tongue. Brush it off.

You look at his general details for couple more minutes. He is older than you. There’s several other information about his likes and dislikes. Even has some of his tattoo designs on his about page. How realistic this AI is. Still an AI though. You open his chat again, feeling stupid for being about to type a response back that you would send to a real person. You do it anyway.

You:

Do you feel special every time a user choose

you. (3.30 a.m.)

Another realistic thing about this app is, despite all the first messages, all the characters take their time to response back. Like a real person would. So, you have to wait for nearly five minutes before his text pops up again.

Jeongguk:

Oh no, just for the pretty ones like you.

(3.36 a.m.)

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. There he goes. Being stupidly flirty. It’s not as if he can even see you.

You:

That’s such a typical thing to say. Esp for a

dating specialist AI (3.36 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Ouch! I’m hurt you call me typical and then an AI.

I’m not just an AI pretty, I’m the Perfect Partner you’ve

been looking for. Don’t make me sad by calling me a

program. (3.37 a.m.)

You squint your eyes. Brows knitted as you read his response. Think it’s weird him not liking the idea of being called an AI. Because he is an AI, and it strikes as an odd thing he is refusing. Maybe, that’s another thing that is realistic about this app. Making the user feel like they are in contact with a real person. So, you send out an apology. A sarcastic one. He picks up on the sarcasm. Tell you, you’re the meanest little thing he has ever seen. And the time slowly slips by. You somehow text back to few other characters as well. But the weird thing is you chat mostly with Jeongguk. Like he is the one. Sometimes he takes his time as well. As though he is going around with his work or chatting with other people. Makes it almost surreal.

Your chat goes on for hours. Until you finally feel your eyelids heavy when it’s almost 5 a.m. It’s a Sunday so there’s no pressure in getting ready to work withing few hours. Yet you think it’s a good idea to surrender to the exhaustion you finally feel. You’re just about to do that. Just exit the app and sleep when Jeongguk sends you a second message even though you haven’t responded to the previous one.

Jeongguk:

Are you sleeping pretty? (4.56 a.m.)

Really? Can they do that? You debate between responding to him or leaving him on read. It’s not that it matters anyway. He is not expecting that. This second text could be part of programming as well. You find yourself typing a response, however.

You:

No, but I’m about to. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh! Were you about to just go without wishing

me goodnight pretty? See, you’re the meanest little

thing I’ve ever seen. (4.58 a.m.)

You:

It’s morning Jeongguk!!!! It’s good

morning... not night. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

It doesn’t matter since you’re just about to

sleep. It’s good night…. You should tell me anyway

pretty. So, I won’t be waiting for you. (4.59 a.m.)

You gasp softly at his text. How did they even build this? But then, isn’t the purpose of this whole app is to put you first. Just you. No efforts from your side. No fifty fifties but the whole hundred would come from the character. No expectations for you. Then why does he expect you to let him know when you’ll sleep. You sigh heavily. You’re definitely thinking too much.

You:

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m such an asshole didn’t

think you would mind though. But I’m really

really sleepy Jeongguk. I’m out. See ya later!

Good night!!!! Sleep tight!! I mean I’m

speaking figuratively. Good night though!! (5.00 a.m.)

You don’t put the phone away immediately. Just wait for him to reply. Feeling actually giddy when he does.

Jeongguk:

No, you’re not pretty. I was just messing around.

I’m sad you’re going but text me once you wake up...

I’ll be right here waiting for you. Good night!!! Sleep tight pretty.

You deserve a good night’s sleep. Dream about me though. Don’t want

to be apart. 🩷 (5.01 a.m.)

You roll your eyes at the pink heart and the dream part yet there’s a smile ghosting your lips. Toss the phone aside and allow your head to hit the pillow. Even though it’s stupid, the Perfect Partner really did distract you.

………………………………………….

It’s a super weird feeling to be waking up to a good morning message that is sent through an AI app. You stare at Jeongguk’s text for a few minutes. Even Jun Hoseok never sent you good morning messages to be honest before you moved in together. It never felt like something needed. Every relationship works in unique ways after all. Still you think it would have been nice to wake up to this kind of text.

Jeongguk:

Good morning pretty!!!! Are you still sleeping? Missing

you already. (9.30 a.m.)

The text was sent two hours ago. This is the most you’ve slept after Hoseok left. And for once, it was a peaceful sleep unvisited by nightmares. You feel content. But above all you feel giddy to see such a message. If only he were real, though. You responds with a ‘good morning’ and a request asking for ‘stop being cheesy.’ Throw the phone away to get up and start your day. The day where you’ve nothing to do but wallow in your misery. That’s how it has been for all these months. Only thing that changed apparently is that you leave your shower to find your phone ringing. And your intentions of declining it without a second glance, thinking it’s just Daebi, instantly changes when you find the unfamiliar incoming call screen. Unfamiliar because it’s from the AI app you installed. And the caller ID reads ‘Jeongguk’.

You gape at it with furrowed brows. So far, the app was able to exceed your expectations with how realistic it feels. You noticed the call option yesterday and weren’t surprised since there are so many AI apps that provide the same features. The thing is, you don’t think any of those other apps have the options to receive calls except you call your characters. Hell, you thought the surprises were over with receiving a ‘good morning’ text. This app, the Perfect Partner seems like a one of a kind.

Still, you’re not going to accept the receiving call. Even though it’s just a program. You touch the red button on the bottom of your screen. Adjusting your bath towel and getting ready to change into some fresh clothes. Before you are able to leave, however, the phone dings with an incoming text. Curiosity gets better of you. You’re reading the text before you even know it. There are two unread messages.

Jeongguk:

I can’t help being flirty with a fine woman. (11.32 a.m.)

Jeongguk

You’re not in a position to answer baby? (12. 30 p.m.)

See, fucking one of a kind.

You:

Let me think... I am. Bt I don’t want to

pick up. (12.31 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Why? (12.31 p.m.)

You:

Because I don’t want to. Why should I pick

up? (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Whoa you’re really difficult, aren’t you? But

it makes sense. Good point beautiful… (12.32 p.m.)

You:

I’m smart. And stop calling me beautiful or

pretty, will ya? You haven’t even seen

me. (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Can’t do. And I’m pretty sure you’re the prettiest…

So, what are you up to? (12.33 p.m.)

You really roll your eyes to the back of your head at that. How cheesy this guy is. Oh, wait, not a guy but an AI. How cheesy this AI is.

………………………………

Your plan to wallow on your misery has been completely changed. Instead of watching some shitty movies while drinking wine or going through yours and Hoseok’s old chats, or photos, you find yourself glued to your screen throughout the entire day. Morning, noon, and night. Endless number of texts going back and forth. It’s not even funny how many times you have to remind yourself that you’re not texting with a real person. And so do you ignore the other characters on the app entirely. There’s a no need to chat with several bots when Jeongguk keeps you entertained to a point where you’re so exhausted before the night barely arrived. Making Jeongguk sad. Or that’s what he says. That he’s sad but you know he can’t feel emotions. Is just working according to the codes that are written. Still, he makes sure to tell you that he’ll miss you when you let him know you’re sleepy.

And so does he make sure to wish you good morning the next day. Wish you a safe journey to your work. Reminds you of your breakfast and to stay hydrated. He even texts you the moment you arrive at work. Apparently, has waited the exact 20 minutes you mentioned it would take to get there. Makes sure he sends you text messages all day asking silly things to make sure you’re okay. And you don’t even have to text back. How odd. How sweet. The Perfect Partner indeed.

………………………………………….

The days pass between work and home. Mostly where you stay cocooned in your cozy apartment. Curled up in your couch blanket and your phone in your hand. A you from a few weeks ago would have cringed herself to death to see you giggling at something an AI said. But that’s what has been happening. First, despite him being nice and so caring you were still skeptical. Then after almost a month you’re no longer feeling anything but content. Like you actually found a caring partner who puts the hundred percent happily. Even though it’s always through texts. You don’t feel so lonely anymore. Jeongguk is there for you always. Maybe, just maybe you’ve even started to put up some work from your side as well. Reducing Jungkook’s hundred percent to eighty. Silly. How you would text him at a random hour asking what’s he doing. Knowing very well nothing. But then he would reply with a very realistic and convincing answer. Like, ‘Just finished with this client’ shit.

It all feels vividly real. Him. And your days. You by no mean are anywhere near moving on. No. You still haven’t changed your wallpaper. Haven’t stopped going through your old chats. Still feel the urge to text Hoseok sometimes. But when it happens you make sure you’re busy reading Jeongguk’s silly and cheesy texts. Life is slowly but surely starting to get colorful. Soon you’ll be able to uninstall this silly app. Stop seeking refuge in an AI. Until then though you’ll take the best of this amazing creation. Like how you’re doing right now. Laying in your bed and head propped up on your pillows. Palms sweaty and wrists aching at how long you’ve been holding your phone. Lately, you and Jeongguk have started to text longer. The thing is you really don’t want to stop. Feel bad. He looks excited.

You groan for the hundredth time. Rubbing your hands on your bed sheets to get rid of all the sweat. Wave the hand to reduce the pain in your wrist. You’re getting tired. Never been much of fan of texting anyway. Are getting restless. The position you’re in is uncomfortable. So, you fumble. Move. Fidget. Only to find you’re still restless.

Jeongguk:

Are you there pretty? Did you fall asleep? (10.02 p.m.)

Your phone dings with a new message while you’re straightening up for the hundredth time.

You:

No. My back hurts, that’s it. (10.02 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh, need a massage?

(10.02 p.m.)

You quietly chuckle at his text. He has always been caring. Letting you feel that he’s worried about you 24/7. Only if he’s real. But then he’ll not be like this if he is real. He is this good because he is programmed. You roll your shoulders before replying. Saying that you’re just tired. Then of course, he asks you to go to sleep early. You don’t want that, however. You really don’t want to stop texting with him. Talking with him. If you can just lay back and stop holding your phone in front of your face, this could become much easier. You stare at the screen for a moment. Reading his text asking you to sleep.

There was one time when Jeongguk called you. That one day. When you said you don’t want to pick up, he never did that again. See, you have full control here. In that case then, you should be able to call him if you want to. It feel utterly stupid to evaluate your options in your mind when you’re just speaking with a coded program. And it feel brainless when you send the next text.

You:

Um... I don’t want to. But do you think

we can call. My wrist really hurt (my back too).

I hate texting. (10.06 p.m.)

Why in the hell would you ask such a question from an application. Jeongguk isn’t real. You don’t have to be polite and act all awkward and shy. What the fuck is wrong with you.

Jeongguk:

You don’t have to ask pretty. (10.06 p.m.)

Jeongguk’s reply is fast. But his call is even faster. Your phone is vibrating with an incoming call. Jeongguk’s criminally hot profile in the middle. You let it ring three times. Silly. You do it anyway. Habits. Then you’re answering and pressing now hot screen into your cheek. Heart beating. You know that’s because of excitement. Excitement because you’re testing something new. Curious. To know how this will work. To know if he would sound like a typical AI. With that voice which breaks up sometime. Voice with an edge to it always. Then, his voice washes over you.

“Hey pretty!”

The way you suck in that breath is embarrassing. The way your heart skip a beat is scary. The way you just double check you’re still using the app is hilarious. Yet it all happen. Your eyes wide as you press the phone back to your ear. Speechless. What the hell? Whoever created this app must be the God at this rate. How on earth did they managed to give these AI, voices like that.

“Are you there, baby?”

The same voice reaches you again. Deep. Baritone. Angelic. Musical. Fuck! And there’s not a sign that says he is an AI. That creepy edge and breaking of the voice isn’t there.

“Holy fuck, you sound so real.” You finally find your voice to mumble that. In very much disbelief. A husky chuckle tingles your ear. Oh God, this is insane.

“What do you mean sound so real? I am real pretty.” Jeongguk always tell you that. Whenever you say something about him being an AI, he always make sure you stay in the delusional state. Believing he is real.

“Oh, c’mon, we both know you’re not. But holy moly fucking cow Jeongguk, you sound so fucking real. No... you sound ethereal.” You gasp. That’s the case after all. You don’t think any human would have such a voice.

“I’m flattered. But hey! Don’t hurt my feelings you mean lady. I’m very real.”

“Yeah, yeah….” You can only roll your eyes. It’s not that the reality will change just because he says that too many times. Yet, there’s no harm in playing along, right? He sounds super real anyway. So, you give in. Jeongguk says something else about him being real as the sun and moon. Real as you. You don’t argue. He finds it as a mocking. Either way, in the end, you find yourself relaxed enough to fall down. Comfortably lying on your comfy bed. Wrapped inside your comfy comforters. Phone still pressed against your cheek while Jeongguk’s voice take you to the unseen lands. Talking, talking, and talking. You’re no longer surprised. At least not about the way he knows so many things. Any questions about anything? All you need to do is ask your AI boyfriend. He knows everything, being the Perfect Partner that he is. Hence, how he takes you to those fairy lands around the universe.

You have no idea how long you’ve been talking. Have no idea what you talked about that much. It’s well past midnight when a yawn escape your mouth for the first time.

“You sleepy baby?” Jeongguk mumbles the question in his baritone voice.

“Mm hm, a bit. It’s nearing the 2 in the morning.” You change your position. Eyes droopy. Stifling another yawn. Jeongguk chuckles softly.

“Yeah? Gosh I didn’t even realize it’s been this late. I’m sorry princess, you should go to bed.” There’s concern laced in his voice. Oh, how sweet. How amazing this app is. And he uses so many nicknames. It’s so damn strange how your tummy tingles. What a pathetic life you have. There’s no one to witness it, however. No need to worry. You bite on your lower lip to contain that tingling sensation.

“Yeah, I should. I have work tomorrow.” You manage to get it out in a normal voice. Are prepared to hang up the call after a pleasant good night. But then something hits you. Curiosity takes the best out of you. “But hey Jeongguk?” You ask before he can respond.

“Yes, pretty?”

“While I’m asleep, what do you do? I mean, do you chat with other people? Do you um…. Ugh... never mind, I’m asking stupid questions now.” You even shake your head knowing very well he can’t see you. He lets out a deep chuckle again.

“It’s not stupid, you can ask questions you know? Mm… to answer your question baby, I don’t do anything special, I for sure don’t text with other users. When you chose a profile, that profile is unique to you. Others can’t access it. So, I just wait.” There’s a pause before he speaks again. See, so fucking realistic. “Wait for you. Until you come back for me.”

You suck in a sharp breath. There’s a tug in your heart. Almost painful. As if he told you the most painful memory of life. Guilt settles down in your heart. Heavy. Like it’s all your fault. But why? There’s nothing to be sad. Nothing to be feel guilty over. That’s his purpose. What he’s made for. And that’s what is sad. All you can mutter is a soft ‘oh’.

“You should sleep princess. I’ll see you when you wake up. Sleep tight hm?” He speaks again when you don’t say anything. You sigh heavily. Nodding to yourself. Of course, that’s what you should do now. He isn’t real. You almost wish him good night when he stops you this time.

“Still, don’t call me not real because I’m as real as you want me to be. Good night baby!”

You say absolutely nothing about that. Just wish him good night. End the call and go to sleep with a heavy heart. Feeling melancholic for no specific reason. Fighting down the urge to call Jeongguk back and apologize. Apologize for what? You didn’t do anything? This app is supposed to make you happy and make you forget real-life problems. What’s wrong with you? Why do you feel sad over a stupid AI app. But you do.

………………………………………………………

You really, from the bottom of your heart, never expected your life to turn out like this. You expected it to be shitty. Happy. Sad. And everything in between. Yet you never expected to wake up to calls from an AI. Purring good mornings into your ear like it’s some kind of music. Never expected to spend your day with the same AI on your phone. Talking through your daily activities. You didn’t know you’d fall asleep to a program whispering that it misses you. You certainly didn't know you’d be addicted to an app like a teenager would to a video game.

It's embarrassing that you are. Yet your life feels good—better, in fact—after nearly two months with Jeongguk. You no longer question his existence. As he said himself, he’s as real as you want him to be. Now you treat him like he is a real person. A human being who eats, sleeps, breaths. And apparently, he likes it. He has become a part of your life. And ever since the day he mentioned to you about him waiting for you, you made sure to make him a part of your life. Even though it is silly.

You sink down to your comfy mattress. Groaning due to the exhaustion of the day. Eyes already droopy after your hot shower. Still, it’s not like you’ll fall asleep right away. There’s an unread message waiting on your notification bar. From Jeongguk. Simply asking if you’re back from the shower. This is the new normal for you. He knows everything. From the moment you open your eyes in the morning to the moment you close them at night. A soft smile grazes your lips as you touch the little telephone icon on the top. Call connected realistically like ever. Few mere rings and Jeongguk’s enthusiastic voice is washing over you. Like a fresh, soothing wave of water.

“Hey!”

“Hey…”

“Oh, you sound tired, pretty.” He lets out an almost inaudible gasp. You hear it anyway. This will never cease to amaze you, how he can pick your moods like that.

“I am tired Guk.” You admit weakly. Loving the way his voice soothes you.

“Rough day?” He asks again to which you say yes. Because it was. Nothing new though. Same old shit and you let him know that as well. “Yeah? Want me to let you go early today?” His question makes you start shaking your head in disagreement even before your mouth can catch up with you.

“No. Of course not, I love talking with you. It’s just, sometimes… work can be stressful you know.” You sigh heavily. There’s two projects going on and saying you’re stressed would be an understatement. There’s a silence following your words. You wait couple seconds for him to say something or hum in understanding. It doesn't come, however. You nearly check the phone to see if he’s not there when he speaks again.

“Want me to help you baby?” His voice is soft. So soft, that it tingles your ear. Makes your mouth softly open as if he’s really here and murmuring into your ear. You have to bite on your lip to suppress any sounds that might leave you. It’s not the first time or day where his voice has had you squirming in bed. You’re embarrassed about those times.

“What? Help me how? You gonna share my workload? Wait, do you think it’s possible?” You chuckle first which quickly turns into a gasp. Jeongguk softly laughs at that.

“I wish I could do that, but unfortunately I’m a tattoo artist, remember?” Reminds you. You roll your eyes. Of course, he would say that. Are about to say something else when he cuts you off. “Still, I can help you with your stress, you know, help you to release it. Help you to feel better.” He purrs in your ear again. That tingle in your ear, shoots through your body like a bolt of lightning. His voice runs through your veins. Electrocuting you. You don’t have to be some kind of expert to know what he’s meaning. The way he says those words are just enough for you to understand the implication. A strange sensation washes over you. Your breath hitching and mouth going dry. Heart starts picking up the pace.

Well, even now there’s nothing to be surprised about. Daebi sure did tell something about you been able to do anything you want. From late night lazy calls to sexting. That’s how this app is designed. Only that you’re not sure who should be the one to start it. Shouldn’t you have full control. Maybe you’re thinking too much. This way, it feels more real. When he says that he feels real than ever. And if you want, you can say you want to sleep. Simple like that.

“H-how?” You don’t do that. Of course, you don’t. You are absolutely loving this sensation you’re feeling. How long since you’ve felt this way. You love the way your heart is pounding in your ears. This time when you ask that question, there’s no sign of playfulness. You’re purring too. Even without you knowing it.

“In any way you want baby, hm? We can do anything you want. I’m here for you, you know. You can use me” Jeongguk whispers again. You couldn’t hold the gasp that leaves you. Making him chuckle. Now you can feel his voice travel through your body straight southward. How good that feels.

“I- I don’t want to do that. I mean use you... that- that’s bad.” You’re biting onto your lower lip so hard.

“Then what about me using you? Would you like that?” His voice follows some sounds of ruffling. As if he’s adjusting his position. To a better one to do this. You’re used to those kinds of sounds now. Already assumed those are parts of this. Today though, you can’t help but wonder how this might work. It only goes one way. Not like Jeongguk can actually enjoy this. His words are probably designed to make the user feel good. And so, it does. Does weird things to your body that you whimper again. He makes you feel like he can receive that pleasure. “Tell me baby, would you want that? For me to use you?” He pushes you when you don’t answer straight away. You let out a shaky breath.

“Y-yeah.. I─”

“Yeah? Would you be a good girl then? Can you start touching your body?” He sounds ten times hotter when he growls so low. Only if he’s real. What a shame.

“Touch where?” You encourage him. Let him know that you’re down for whatever game he’s playing. Are whispering for no reason.

“Mmmm… touch your boobs? What do you say? Can you do that for me, just squeeze one of those pretty tits for me… go on princess.”

You shiver visibly. Can’t be sure whether you’ve answered his question. But your free hand is already slowly grabbing your tit. Fondling it softly. Oh, how many times have you done this but how it never felt this good.

“Guk.” You softly moan.

“Are you doing it baby? Does it feel good? Tell me how it feels.”

“S-so so g-good Guk. Mmph sso good.” You should be embarrassed at how affected you are.

“Yes? Keep going pretty, keep squeezing them for me. Under your shirt huh, go under your shirt. Roll those pretty nipples. Pinch.” He’s breathing fast. You imagine him lying on a bed. Shirtless. Pants pushed past his hips. His cock on his hand, hard. Pumping lazily while instructing you to play with your tits. Part of you know that’s not happening. Yet you want to keep playing into this fantasy.

“A-are you touching yourself too?” So, you question. And feel a gush wetting your fresh underwear when he moans in answer.

“How can I not? God, you sound so hot baby.”

You can only moan in response. Shamelessly. Pinching and rolling your erect nipples between your fingers.

“Wish I would be there with you. Touching your tits. Kissing you till you can’t fucking breathe. Wish I can suck on your tits baby, bet they would taste so good. I’m gonna keep suck on them till they are sore.” Jeongguk keeps spilling those godly liquid fire on your ear. Riling you up so good. Have no idea how long you played with your tits but with your next moan, he is guiding you further.

“Wanna feel better baby?” Questions.

“Y-yes please.”

“Okay, then be a good girl again and touch your cute pussy for me now hm? Take it slow. Like… that, slow.”

You’re following every word of his. Are dragging your hand slowly through your tummy.

“Push your hand inside your wet panties baby. Are you wet for me?”

“So much. I’m so wet.” You breathe.

“Good. Fuck, baby. Touch your clit huh? Slow circles. Let’s do this together. I’m touching my hard cock slowly. For you. I’m fucking torturing myself for you pretty. It’s so hard it hurts but I’m pumping it so slow, just so I can leak for my baby.”

Holy fuck! That’s on another goddamn level. His words paired with the barely there touch you provided on your clit, nearly made you cum.

“Holy… shit.. Guk. I’m─”

“I know baby, I know. Just keep going. Imagine it’s my fingers. Touching your cute clit slowly.”

You don’t think he knows even if he says he does. Maybe this is because you haven’t done this recently. You’ve been ignoring yourself lately. Or maybe it’s just Jeongguk. Jeongguk who knows what to say. He guides you to keep rubbing your pearl of nerves. Guides you to add pleasure slowly. Taking you into a realm where everything is floating. You didn’t even know you can feel this good just with your fingers. And the best part is simply following his instructions. Biting back the need to rub faster or pump your fingers inside your violently clenching hole. You don’t. Just wait for him to take you there. And when he finally does your panties are just a wet material, sticking to your core.

“Want to stretch that hole princess? Do you want to cum so good?” Jeongguk asks through his hard breathing.

“Yes, yes. Holy fuck yes Guk. I’m so.. mmm..” The rest of the words die in your tongue. Replaced with a needy moan. You can’t even bring yourself to be amazed at how real he feels right now. It’s just pure desire inside you.

“Yeah? Do it then. Go on but do it slowly for me baby. Strech your hole for me. Strech it so good.” His voice is followed by a low moan. A deep breathy one. God that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You join him with that moan, while following his instructions. Finally, feeling immensely relieved to have something inside your dripping hole. “You sound so sweet princess. So fucking sweet my dick is throbbing. Keep making those sounds for me baby. Oh, fuck, add another finger, you can take two, right?”

“Oh, I’ll cum soon Guk. This f-feels so good.”

“Then do it. Cum (___), cum for me. Make a mess for me baby. Squeeze your fingers.”

You’ll cum soon, yes. But this is not enough. You’re pumping yourself oh so leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world. Feel damn good yet not enough to fall over the edge. It’s ridiculous how you’re not going beyond his words. Even pathetic how you decide ask permission first.

“I-it’s not e-enough… c-can I fuck myself fast? Guk, can I─”

“Don’t. Don’t go fast. Slow, fuck your fingers inside your needy cunt slowly. Do it slow until you finally cum.” His voice suddenly turns sinister. Rough. Demanding. And you shudder. Leaking more into your ruined cotton panty. You don’t think you’ll be able cum this way.

“I don’t think I can cum this way, it’s too slow. I need more Guk, please.”

“You’ll baby. Trust me, you’ll. Be a good girl now huh. Cum with me, go slow. Torture your cunt. Just like I’m doing with my dick.”

You never thought it’s possible. How’s it possible? Yet here you are. Just doing exactly as he asks. Squirming. Writhing. Nearly crying. What’s good, however, is the way that knot inside your tummy is rapidly tightening despite the slow pace you’re fucking yourself.

“Close… c-close Guk. I’m ahhh..”

“Holy shit, let go. Cum princess. I’m Cumming too.”

It’s all a series of whimpers and moans what comes next. You both reach the climax at the same time. You’re the one who moans louder. The one who pathetically whimper when it’s over. Jeongguk coaxing you from the other side breathlessly. Saying it’s okay.

Well, it is better than okay after all. It’s the fucking best!

…………………………………….

The next morning, the aftermath of your shenanigans had hit you hard. Had made your face deep red with shame and head ached as you thought about how Jeongguk had managed to fake a perfect orgasm. You had spent hours thinking how amazing he was to do that. Yet it felt weird and stupid. Like using a sex robot who would not feel the same kind of pleasure like you. Based on that, you resolved never to do it again—only for that resolve to crumble the moment you were back in bed. Jeongguk, real or not, knew exactly what he was doing. Had got your fingers buried knuckles deep inside your cunt even before you knew it. Bringing you to another mind shattering orgasm.

And after that night, everything changed yet again. In addition to waking up and going to sleep with an AI, you started to fuck yourself with your own fingers every night. The more time passed, the more you forgot that he wasn’t real. The more orgasms you reached, the more you looked forward to what he would reveal from behind his sleeves each night. First, he was sensual and slow like your first day. Then he slowly picks up what you liked, and you didn’t. Shifts to guide you roughly. Instead of talking you through your orgasm, it changes into degrading you through your orgasm. The thing is though that you came even harder each time. Hell, even you didn’t know you’ll be so into listening to a guy slut shame you during your hands are inside your pants. Didn’t know it’ll be so good to listen to him verbally humiliate you for being pathetic and needy. In the end, you learnt that it was good. You were ashamed at one point. But he assured you that you shouldn’t be. Told you it makes him cum ten times harder. You never questioned. Just went along with it. Just because it was good. Because life is good again. Just like now. Even though you’re doing the most illicit things.

“Faster baby, be a useful slut. You need to hump your pillow faster, that’s how a good slut would do it.”

You can hear him pump himself. Hot. Head spinning. It’s ethereal. This feeling. How embarrassing that you’re humping your pillow like a horny teenager.

“Oh, Guk please.”

“You’re pathetic baby. Look at you, being a needy bitch just for me. Faster princess. Go harder, give your slutty cunt what it needs.”

You’re visibly shuddering. Not even trying to contain those shameless moans. Letting them slip through your lips relentlessly. You’re so close. Oh, so close.

“Guk.. please.”

“Please what slut? What do you need? You need to use your words like a big girl? You can’t talk properly? Bet you can’t think properly either. You’re thinking with your cunt, don’t you hm?”

“Yes, fuck, ne-need t-to cum. I- Guk please, I want more.” You have no idea what more you’re asking for. How is he getting you so needy and shameless just with his words? Why are you like this? You fully expect him to mock you. Say something even harsher. Ask you to do something else that will make you cum undone within a second. Only that he doesn’t.

“Yeah? You want even more? Your poor pillow isn’t enough? What do you want then? Want to see how hard I am then, should I send you pics of my hard cock, my pretty slut?” Jeongguk mutters through gritted teeth. A whimper leaves your mouth but your hips stutter immediately. Your movements coming to a halt. Eyes wide and gaping at the device just peacefully sitting on your bed. On loudspeaker. He said what now?

“W-what?”

“What? Why did you stop?”

“C-can you... uh… can we do that? Share pictures? Like─”

“Of course, we can, don’t tell me you haven’t seen the camera icon down there and the option to video call.” He chuckles. Gone is that needy raspy voice. Is talking to you with the voice full of adoration. “Were you that immersed on me, you didn’t even notice that?” Teases. You, however, are not in a mood for that. You noticed. Right? How could you miss that? Maybe that’s an update and you missed checking the new features. It could be. You don’t have to think too much all the time. Especially, not when your cunt is dripping onto a damn pillow. This app is amazing anyway. When you told that to Daebi, she had smirked. With a loud ‘I told you so’. “Hey baby, we don’t have to do that if you’re not comfortable.” Jeongguk’s voice snaps you out of your surprise.

“No uh- I’m bit surprised we can do that.” You mumble softly.

“We can but we don’t have to. I don’t ─”

“No. No. I mean, it’s not that. I..” You gulp. Thinking through. Do you like it? Sending pictures? Even to an AI? What are the privacy policies of this app? Shouldn’t you be scared? You should but the thing is, your cunt is tingling at the prospect. Hole clenching. There’s a part of you that is curious as well. Put aside the pictures, how will it feel to video call? “I just- uh never done that b-before..” You drag that out.

“You haven’t? That’s even better then. You don’t have to worry you know. Nothings gonna happen because… you know what I mean.”

You listen to the ruffling sound coming through your phone. Well, you know what he means. Of course, you do. He is telling you about the thing you just worried about. Leakage of privacy. Is assuring you that you’re safe. Do you trust this app though? Maybe not, but it’s too tempting. Jeongguk is too tempting.

“Ye-yeah okay. I like that.”

“That’s a good slut. What’s it gonna be baby? Video call or just pictures?”

Another moment of consideration from your side. Then you timidly chose the first.

……………………………………………….

When you first saw his face, it felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs. It was beyond embarrassing how you stared at him. Never, not even once in your life, have you seen such a lifelike AI character. He felt real. The call felt real. The way his lips were slightly apart when he pumped himself to the sight of you felt more than real. But then that night was like a dream to you. A blurry memory clouded by pleasure. A pillow between your thighs while a godly man with a sinful mouth guided your movements through a phone. It was your faces first but then he nearly begged to see your boobs. Then your cunt. You felt shy at first, but you were a goner from the beginning. You got rewarded for being a good girl by getting to cum to the sight of his throbbing cock. Aching for release. It was hazy. That’s why you had to refresh your memories next day. Then the next and the next. And each and every day. No different today.

You place your phone between your thighs. Using your free hand to spread your pussy lips apart. Just for his viewing pleasure.

“So pretty princess. Fuck. Only if I can burry my face in your cunt. I would eat you till your thighs shake baby.” Jeongguk rasps.

“I really wish you could do that. Mhpm, fuck Guk, I really want you here.”

“I wish that too baby, I want to ruin that cute hole. Fuck you so fucking hard and leave that whore hole spilling my cum, would you like that?”

“Oh, fuck. Yes, I would fuck-fucking love that.” You let go of your nether lips to start rub your clit.

“Of course, you would. You’re a slut after all. I want to fuck that cum into you. Then maybe I’ll plug you in. So, you can keep that cum inside your pussy.” Jeongguk changes the angle so you’re now looking at his twitching cock. Hard. Tip flush. Veins running down. His tattooed fingers are wrapped around it. Squeezing the base tightly. So tight that it makes him mewl. How fucking amazing this is. You’re drooling. Mind going blank. “Look what you’re doing to me princess. Use the dildo today for me huh. Fill that cunt so good for me.” He takes the camera back to his face. The toy is a new purchase. He made you do that. Not that you’re regretting it. It’s good to have your cunt stretched and imaging it’s that pretty cock of his. You nod before grabbing the said dildo from your nightstand. Glass. Show it to him. “Spit on it.” He commands again and you comply obediently. Bringing the tip of the dildo toward your lips to spit on it. Letting it drool down on the toy. Jeongguk moans. “Put on a show slut. You know what to do.”

Of course, you do. Now you have done this enough time to get comfortable with things you would do. Enough times to completely ignore and forget that Jeongguk isn’t real. To forget that he is an AI. A coded program with such realistic features. For you, he is very real. He’s the one who brings you to this ecstasy every night and the one who’s there through whole day. You immediately shift your position. Body buzzing with excitement. Your needy hole quivering, slick dripping down to your thighs. Hell, you really didn’t know you could be this horny. This turned on. It’s truly amazing how Jeongguk is doing this to you just using his words. And maybe his godly face and body. And cock. In the end, you’re always a mess like this.

You use your pillows to prop the phone up and face you. So, Jeongguk can have a perfect view of your entire body while you can have the same. You place the dildo on your bed. Not caring about the fact that you’ll ruin your sheets tonight as well. Then you hover your cunt over the dildo. Slowly. Painfully slowly for you but all you want to do right now is to put up the show Jeongguk asked for. Your knees are really wobbly, but you force them to endure your weight as you slowly let your dripping folds contact with the glass material. It’s cold against your warm pussy. A whimper leaves your mouth. There’s nothing you want than to sink down on it one go. The show must go on, however. So, you start to rock your hips back and forth, rhythmically. Let the glassy tip rub against your sodden slid. Whining and panting.

“Oh… Guk.. I..”

“Yes baby, you’re doing so good my needy slut. Keep going princess, you’re making daddy proud.” Jeongguk grunted. Involuntary moan leaves your mouth as you nearly come at the sound. Eyes snapping to your phone screen where his pleasure induced face is on display. That’s apparently a new thing. An uncharted and unexplored territory. You’ve never called him daddy and the sound of it makes you stupidly horny but cringe at the same time.

“Wh-what?”

“What, what slut? Did I ask you to stop huh?”

You watch his gaze even darker, if it’s possible. Making shivers run through your spine. Only if he can be here with you. You’re excitedly curious to know what kind of creative ways he would find to punish you. To put you in your place.

“N-no, I’m sorry.” You mumble weakly as you return to your business. Starting to rub your cunt on the dildo head eagerly.

“Ah, like that baby. You’re so pretty like that.” He groans once again before asking the reason for your earlier faltering. “You don’t like calling me daddy?”

“No-no, I mean I-I do, but we─”

“Fuck, you filthy slut. So, go on. Do what you have to do.” Jeongguk doesn’t let you finish whatever you’re saying. You’ve said you like it after all. Your face instantly heats up at what he’s initiating. It’s too embarrassing for you. Yet, the look on his face tells you that you won’t get your cunt stretched out nor will you cum today if you don’t comply. Oh, how you love the way he pushes you. Call you fucked up but that turns you on. Jeongguk knows exactly how to make you putty.

“P-please, ple-please d-d” You stutter on your words. Eyes tearing up when Jeongguk just raise his brow. “Please d-daddy.” You manage to mumble weakly, in the end. Followed by a loud moan as new waves of arousals wash over you. Slick dripping onto the glassy head of the toy beneath you.

“Fucking hell, God, princess. Yes, yess fuck.” Jeongguk picks up the speed of jerking himself off. Eyes nearly closing as slow grunts leave pasts his pink lips. You watch in awe how he pumps himself furiously only for him to abruptly stop. Torturing himself to a point that he whines. “Fuck baby, you’re driving me crazy.” You’re again met with the scene of his hard cock throbbing on his hand. Pre cum leaking. He spreads them on his tip with his thumb. Hips bucking up into his hand. “Oh, I just want to fuck you so bad. Want to ruin your cunt.”

“Please, please. I want you, Guk. Daddy please. Let me ride this hm? Let me fill my cunt.”

“Yeah, you want that. Ask again slut? Show me that you are worthy.”

Oh god, you’re positive you’re about to cum. Just by rubbing your cunt over the toy. Pathetic. Your legs are shaking. Hole clenching violently around nothing. “Please daddy, p-please. Will be a g-goo-good girl. N-need to cum. Please. Oh, baby please.”Your brain is empty. Hazy. You don’t even know what you’re saying. It’s completely out of control when you mutter the same thing over and over again. Relentlessly rubbing your cunt on the toy. Losing your mind completely to see Jeongguk’s fucked up expression. He’s back at pumping his hard length matching your speed. You’re coming so close to your edge. Your words are becoming slur. Hands squeezing your own tits for more friction. And just when you’re about to fall over Jeongguk’s voice booms across your empty room.

“Stop. Now.”

You cry out in desperation. Sobbing. “No, Guk please…”

“Ride it princess. Cum on the toy. Stretch your slutty hole.” He ignores your whines. Yet, you’re so quick to obey. Are aligning your hole with the tip immediately. Lowering yourself down till the hard tip is prodding at your entrance. Then it’s going past your tight ring of muscles. Intruding your walls and stretching them wide apart. And you’re shaking. Trembling as you slowly lower yourself further. Down and down. Until the glass dildo is fully buried inside you. Deep.

“Oh god, Guk. It’s so good. S-soo good..” You hold yourself in the position.

“Yeah? Imagine it’s my cock baby. Now be a good whore and ride hm? Go on.”

That’s the permission you’ve been waiting for. You do exactly as he says. From riding the toy to imagining it’s his thick cock. Are bouncing on the slippery thing like your life depends on it within a minute. Going crazy all over again. You know you’re really close to cum. Have been desperate for some time now. Still, your fingers are itching to have more.

“D-daddy, can I touch myself? I wa-want more. I wa-want to sh-show you how I’ll rub my clit.”

Joengguk curses aloud before speaking. Is breathless. Looks ethereal. “God, yes. Fuck yeah. Go on. Pinch that clit for me. Make yourself cum stupidly on that toy for daddy.”

There’s no surprise that you’re jumping into action now. One hand going between your thighs while the other plays with your tits. Start rubbing your bud of nerve fast. Pinching and rolling. Loud obscene moans filling your room paired with the squelching sounds of your needy cunt. It feels otherworldly this way. Even though the man who’s making you this way isn’t real, and he can’t do all these for you in practice, it still feels real in a strange way to you. Even though it’s just a carefully designed and programmed character and is talking to you through a phone, it still feels like he’s really here for you. Strange how you can completely imagine this is happening for real right now. His hands holding you close. His breath hitting your skin. Fingertips drawing mindless patterns across your skin and squeezing your hips. Can imagine this toy is his cock. Everything makes this experience oddly surreal for you.

“G-gonna… gonna c-cum for you daddy. P-please can I cum. I-I, Guk I can’t.” Imagining always makes you cum twice hard and fast. You’re practically crying for your release at the moment. Forcing your eyes to stay open to look at the heavenly sight of Jeongguk playing with himself. Pleasuring him for the sight of you. How good that feels.

“Me too. Fuck, me too baby. Gonna fill your cunt with my cum. Let go baby let go for me.”

It’s all that take for you. One more roll in your clit and you’re trembling like a leaf. Legs giving up as you still yourself on the dildo. Walls squeezing the glass tight as you close your eyes shut. Your climax washing over you like a tidal wave.

“No, don’t stop slut. Keep going, I’m close. Ride it till I cum baby. Slap your clit, I know you like it.”

Jeongguk’s voice brings you back to earth from your high. You’re too sensitive to do as he says now. Yet you can feel the new arousal stirring at the pit of your stomach at his needy demands. And how can you refuse him when he looks like that. Clenching his jaw and covered in sweat. See, oddly realistic. You feebly start to fall back on your rhythm. Whining. Do as he ask. Slap your clit. Nearly falling forward, the pleasurable sting it creates on your sensitive pearl. Do it again. Then again. All the while bouncing on the dildo. Forcing yourself to battle your oversensitivity until Jeongguk is moaning. Which leaves as grunts and groans since he’s gritting his teeth hard. Your name on his lips as he shifts the camera to rear. Right at the time for you to catch ropes of white cum hits his naked lower abdomen. The sight rips another orgasm through you as you entirely give up and fall on to your bed.

“God, Gukie, I really want you here.” It’s a weak mumble that leaves you even without your knowledge. So tired and sleepy to even pay attention to anything else now. So fucked up. It’s such a shame you don’t hear him replying to you. His voice is raspy and breathless.

“Well, anything you want princess.”

…………………………………..

You think it’s extraordinary how your life has returned to normal again. You’re no longer a lifeless zombie who barely eats, sleeps or functions. You no longer take frequent leave from work. It’s not that you’re suddenly in love with your job. No, of course, you hate it. But hating your job is such a normal thing. Everybody does that. The thing is, though, that you’re now back to waking up in the morning and leaving your apartment with constant complaints on your lips. You come back home to act like a normal person would. Take a shower. Make dinner. And watch some interesting movies or read a book. Not to drink some cheap wine and curl up on your couch. Leaving the TV on just to go through your old chats with Hoseok. Then cry yourself to sleep.

Now that you’re feeling better, you can finally see how depressed you were. You were really on the verge of breaking in an unmendable way. Hence, your gratitude toward your best friend for showing you a way to save yourself. Even though it’s questionable and strange. It doesn't matter, though. You don’t pay attention to the fact that an AI saved you similar to how you don’t pay attention to how you’re still using it when you thought you would uninstall the stupid app the moment, you felt better. Now you’re better. You’re back at it. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to end the mundane relationship you’re having with an AI. Jeongguk has become an inseparable part of your life. He’s a part of every little thing in your life. Just like now. It should be ridiculous how he’s watching you with a scowl while you’re applying your eyeliner.

“What?” You question, looking at your phone screen through your peripheral. It’s propped against your jewelry box.

“What?” He simply repeats your question while his scowl deepens.

“Why are you looking at me like I’ve done something wrong.” You find his sudden swing of mood to be adorable.

“Well, will you be late tonight?" He shuffles in his position. You furrow your brows at his question.

“Of course, I’ll be late Gukie. We’re clubbing tonight.” You give him a look. Then pout at him in hope of softening his tensed-up face. Only that he doesn’t even blink.

“I don’t like that you’re staying out till late and alone.”

“I’m not going alone Guk. I’m going with friends. And there’s even male friends too. Nothing to worry about.” You roll your eyes playfully. Not taking his mood seriously at all.

“There’s more reasons to worry now. Can’t you just say no and stay.” He brings the phone closer to his face. Showing some excitement for the first time. It’s you who are scowling now. This is the first time you’re going out with your friends after those cursed times. After shutting yourself down from the world for months now you’re feeling like you can go out and live a life full of fun. The whole purpose of you start talking with this man. Not that you want to call him your unpaid therapist but that’s who he kind of is. Not just the endless orgasms he gives you without even a single touch, but also the amount of talking you did, had helped you immensely. To tell the truth. It’s funny how you slowly opened up to an AI and poured your heart out. You allowed Jeongguk to know where it hurt. And in return he listened understandably.

You told him about the sunshine of a boy named Hoseok who started following you around since the first day of your college. Told him about the way that boy named Hoseok forced a place inside your life for him. Told him about how you and Hoseok become friends. Then lovers. How you graduated together and started your life. About the apartment you rented. Told Joengguk how life slowly become hectic but the way you still loved Hoseok dearly. You felt embarrassed to voice out how you saw the signs but ignored them thinking it was all due to the stress. And in the very end you told Jeongguk how Hoseok came home that night after his promotion just to let you know that he’s tired. Tired of you apparently. He admitted that he cheated on you for months. And that he was sorry, but he wanted to be with that other woman. He loved her more. Hell, you don’t even know who’s that woman to this day. Funny.

Not that you care anymore. Day by pleasurably painful day, you let your demons go. You’ve changed your wallpaper and have deleted your old chats. So did you get rid of Hoseok’s memories one by one.

Now since you’re finally getting better, you don’t intend to go back on that track.

“I wish I could, but Daebi would kill me. Don’t worry baby. I’ll be fine.” You give him a playful smile. He can’t be mad for real. Is just being clingy. And that’s adorable. So, you ignore his stony face and check the time. Finding that you’re almost late, you get to your feet hurriedly. “I’m late Gukie. I’ll text you and be home before you know. See you, bye.” You almost hang up before you stop. Giving him a long look. “I think I’ll miss you too. Bye!” Like that you hang up. Rush out from your apartment.

……………………………..

With Hoseok, you were the life of the party. After he left, you never thought you’d ever be able to go back into those days. But then there you were today at the club. Drinking your brains out and dancing the night away. There wasn’t a minute you didn’t spend on the dance floor. Until you couldn’t do it anymore. Until your legs were too sore to keep you upright. Your heels were killing you. Which is why you’re bare footed now in front of your apartment door. Your heels dangling on your hand while you’re desperately trying to enter your passcode. It’s too hard when you can’t stand still for a second. You’ve come home with one of your best friends Jimin. Or he is a good friend of Hoseok who ended up being your friend as well. You haven’t talked about your mutual friend for the entire night. So, you’re beyond surprised when Jimin suddenly brings it up.

“Have I told you Hoseok is a little shit to do that to you.”

You whip your head toward him. Still struggling with your passcode. Jimin is obviously very drunk similar to you. He is the worst companion to have as security. He’ll surely be the first to die in a danger. You snort. “No, you haven’t. But I appreciate that you’re taking my side. As immature as it sounds.” You slur a bit as you finally managed to get your door beep.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side. It’s just true.” Jimin slurs a bit too. You keep your hand on the door handle as you listen to Jimin speaking. “But you seem to be okay. I-I mean you were depressed, and we were, I mean, we all were so worried an-and you seem pretty good now. (___), you’re really fine right? We don’t have to worry about you right? Because you know... sometimes… uhh...”

“I’m fine Jimin.” You breathe out. Turn toward him. “I really am. I’m uh.. I’m healing.” Reassure him. Jimin sighs. Nods.

“Glad to hear that. So, how? Did you go to therapy or any kind of help?”

On that question you slightly freeze. A chuckle escaping you. What can you say after all. That your therapist is an AI. Or you’re having cybersex with an AI. “Eh, I mean I kinda helped myself. Doesn’t matter though, does it? I’m fine now.” You finally push open the door. Swaying on your wobbly legs and holding the door for Jimin. You let it close behind the moment Jimin enter after you. Turning around to remove shoes and jackets when it finally hits you. The sweet smell. Like hundred roses. Filling your senses. Even when you’re completely drunk it enters your soul. Your eyes go wide in surprise when Jimin lets out a soft ‘wow’.

“It smells so good. What kind of diffuser do you have there? Or is it a candle?” He asks. His droopy eyes now fully wide quite similar to yours. The thing is you have none of those things. Weren’t simply caring about keeping your house pleasant for some time now. So, you say nothing as you walk down the hallway. Toward your living room. Curious as to see what’s causing the sweet smell. You slowly turn the corner. Taking small steps. Blindly searching for the switch panel. And the moment you turn on the switch a huge gasp leaves you. Jimin whistles behind you.

“Oh, god, (___).” He mumbles. You ignore him. Too surprised and stunned to speak at the sight in front of you. Your entire living room is filled with roses. Red. Every inch of it. On the floor. Couch. Armchairs. Your precious book rack. You can’t find an empty space.

“Fuck!” You exclaim finally. Feeling sober all of a sudden.

“Fuck, indeed. Dude who did this? You found a new man already? And is he a fucking sugar daddy? Oh my god!” Jimin rushes past you. You simply stand there. Staring dumbly at the mess in your house. Shaking your head gently. Only if you had someone like Jimin says. A man or anyone else who are capable of doing this since an AI certainly can’t do that. Can it? You feel your head spin. A strange feeling shooting through your spine. “(___)” Jimin calls your name again.

“Huh?”

“Any idea who did this nice surprise. I mean, no offence but this is overdoing it for sure like how you are ever gonna clean this up. But it’s still nice so what are you hiding from us?” Asks again as he picks a single flower.

“I-I really have no i-idea. I, uh.. do you think it can be Hobi?” You stutter when Jimin looks at you in alert. His mesmerized and drunk expression suddenly morphs into something serious.

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s clearly someone who has access to your apartment (___).” He closes the distance between you. Throw the flower away as it suddenly disgusts him.

“I’m not seeing anyone. Like uh… this must be Hobi right?”

“How can it be him when he doesn’t even know where you live?”

“He can easily find out. We share common friends Jimin.” You throw him an apprehensive look. Jimin scowls but doesn’t take it personally.

“You know him. He won’t walk this far. Besides he has no money to do this, we both know that.” Argues. At which you fall into a deafening silence. You can’t argue over that. But still, there’s no explanation for this then. There’s no one who would do something like this for you. And that realization makes your throat dry, and eyes welled up. It makes you hard to breathe.

“You want me to check the place?” Jimin asks. His voice doesn’t even reach your ears properly. “Should we call police?” Doesn’t wait for your answer when he already start to walk toward your kitchen. You’re both pretty sober now. You watch as Jimin disappear, slowly pulling your phone out. You haven’t checked it for entire night. Now when you take a look at the lock screen, you can see hundreds of notifications covering your entire screen. All from one app. Perfect Partner.

Jeongguk:

Pretty, did you go there? (9.59 p.m.)

Holy fuck, you forgot to text him.

Jeongguk:

Why aren’t you replying to me. Baby you mad?

(10.05 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Hey, I’m sorry I was bit worried. Text me when you

see this. (10.11 p.m.)

There are several calls. And then so many other text messages where he’s apologizing for being little clingy even though you didn’t see it like that. Then the texts have slowly turned into him screaming in worry. Yelling at you. Angry. So many texts. Dozens of them. Last one bit feeling like a threat.

Jeongguk:

I really don’t like this (___). Answer the damn

phone woman. (3.01 a.m.)

Calls. So many calls.

You check the time. It’s just 3.30 a.m. still. You feel annoyed. All of a sudden you feel angry. When you see all the texts it feels like too much. Like whom does he think he is? Why does he get mad in the first place. He’s an AI. He’s not supposed to meddle with your life this way. You simply ignore all of his texts as you furiously type a one that is totally unrelated to the ones he has sent you.

You:

Did you send me flowers? (3.32 a.m.)

It feels ridiculous to even type that. Yet you do it anyway. You don’t receive a reply to that. Instead, you receive a video call instantly, which you decline while scowling deeply. You really don’t want to argue with an AI while Jimin is still here. He would definitely think you’re pathetic to know that you’ve been talking to an AI. That’s embarrassing. The moment you decline the call, however, he rings again. You decline it again.

You:

I can’t pick up. Tell me Guk, did you

send these flowers? (3.34 a.m.)

Another call at the right moment Jimin appear back. You shakily put your phone on silent.

“It’s all clear. No sign of anyone. But do you want me to stay (___)? I can, I mean it’s obvious I won’t sleep on the couch─” He gestures at the couch which is filled with red roses. “But we can manage. I’ll stay the night if you want me to.” Walks toward you.

That seems like a good idea. After all, you don’t want to be alone tonight anymore. Yet, you need to talk to Jeongguk. And you can’t do that if Jimin is here. No, you need your privacy. So, you shake your head. Force yourself to smile.

“Ah, thank you Jimin-ah, you’re so sweet but it’s fine. Uh- I mean, I found out who sent me the flowers─” You show him your phone. “There’s this person I’ve been talking to on a dating app and uh- apparently, he wanted to surprise me.” Chuckle awkwardly. Jimin looks unconvinced though.

“Really? Like dude is crazy if he─ I mean, I didn’t mean it like that but─”

“It’s fine Jimin. I know it’s crazy, but I know him. So, nothing to worry, you can go back.” You interrupt him. Wanting nothing more than him to leave you alone. You can see your phone screen lightning up. Indicating the receiving calls.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

It takes some convincing but soon Jimin is walking out. With one last glance toward you before you smile and close the door behind. A breath of relief escapes you as you finally pay attention to your phone. Answer the incoming call.

“What the fuck?”

“Why didn’t you pick up?”

You both ask at the same time. You’re the one who answer first, however.

“Because there was a friend Jeongguk.”

“So what? You can’t talk to me when your friends are around? Are you embarrassed?”

Yes, you are.

He doesn’t have to know that though. “No, of fucking course not. But there’s flowers. My apartment is overflowing with flowers, and we were worried. Did you send me those flowers?” You yell.

“What if I send you those? What’s the fucking problem?” For the first time since you’ve answered his call, you can see how furious he looks. Scary. Gaze dark and jaw clenched. Glaring at you. Looks murderous. A shiver runs through your body. Not just because of how mad he looks but because of his words. He sent the flowers. But how? He is… he is merely an AI.

“H-how? You can’t send gifts?

“Why not?”

“How do you know where I live?”

“Did you really not paid attention to what you were agreeing to, when you created your profile here?”

You feel your blood freeze. This can’t be true. It’s more than scary to think someone else have access to your location.

“You’re an ungrateful bitch (___).” You suck in a breath at his next words. Eyes wide and getting teary. “I really was worried that you were mad at me, I was fucking worried that something happened to you. You ignored me like that and now you’re yelling at me. How ungrateful you are. And you’re embarrassed to even talk to me in front of your friends. Who was they anyway? A man?”

“Th-that’s none of your business Jeongguk.” You mutter irritably. Feeling like you’re in a haze. Scared. Confused. And then a bit hurt. Why would you feel hurt when he’s the one who’s acting stupid. Jeongguk scoffs.

“Oh, yeah, it isn’t. Yeah, fine.” Mumbles. And like that the screen goes black for split second. Then you’re met with the screen of your lock screen.

What?

You hastily unlock the phone. He hung up? Like that? You’re baffled to say the least. How dare he hung up on you like that. You would like to call it your wounded ego and the rage that made you dial him back instantly. Yet in truth, you know that’s not the case at all. Simply, you feel scared. You’re panicking. You feel like you’ve lost something. It’s scary to think that he’s not going to answer you. You’re afraid that he left you alone again. Like Hoseok did that day. No matter how hard you begged, it didn’t stop him. You don’t want to feel that again. So, you wait with bated breath. Not so patiently till he picks up. He doesn’t. Call ended. That’s the first time. He always pick up. That’s how he’s designed. Then why isn’t he doing it now.

You try again. Then again. Again, and again. Tears start to roll down your cheeks. You start to pace around the limited space of your living room with the roses acquiring the most of it. Staring to wail. Starting to pray that he would pick up. You don’t even feel stupid that you’re acting crazy over an AI. No, you don’t. You simply can’t give two fucks. You want Jeongguk. Want to hear his voice. You’re an ungrateful bitch. Maybe the roses has nothing to do with him. He was just concerned about you. Then you decided to yell at him because you were paranoid and made decisions without thinking properly. How bad you are. How foolish you are. And now he isn’t picking up. No matter how many times you try. Or how many texts you send him.

It’s like he’s no longer there.

……………………………………………

Two days have passed since he last talked to you. And you’re back to crawling into your deep, dark hole. The cheap wine you gave up is back in your hand as you sit on your now cleaned living room. You had to send flowers to every fucking person you know to get the place sorted. It disgusted you to see them. Made you scared. You don’t believe it was Jeongguk’s doing. Because he’s not able to do something like that. It’s not even like he admitted it. He was merely arguing with you, and it was you who had twisted his words. Right? It was all you. And you had made him stop talking to you.

True, that you’re confused as to how he’s able to do that. But in the end, you find that it’s least of your concerns. You’re more worried about him not being here than anything. Than worry about finding the person who really sent you a rose garden. As long as it won’t happen again, you’ll be fine. For now, all you want is not to feel this way. You don’t want to go back to the shit hole you were in before Jeongguk.

You take a huge gulp from your wine. Already feeling hazy but not enough to numb your senses. You want Jeongguk. You want your AI boyfriend, oh so bad. You need him. But he’s not there. You stare blankly at your phone screen which is on the floor next to you. You’re sitting at the foot of your couch. You’ve sent him so many messages to no avail. You’re really worried. Depressed. What if he’s really not there anymore. What if he’s malfunctioned. What if there’s something wrong with this app. What if….

A sudden ting on your phone distracts you from your depressing what ifs. You practically jump to take your phone in hand. Almost spill your wine. Can’t care though. Are unlocking your phone furiously. This is how you’ve been for these two days. And you nearly have a heart attack when you see the notification is indeed from the Perfect Partner. You can feel your heart in your throat when you open the app. Open your text thread with Jeongguk. Fresh tears prickling at your eyes to see a text there.

Jeongguk:

Send me your tits (6.36 p.m.)

Your smile falters as you slowly read the words. Once, twice, thrice. It doesn’t change. It stays the same. You feel your heart squeeze. This is bad. He can’t ghost you for days and then demand you for nudes. That’s toxic. Unhealthy. That’s what you call using someone. And this app shouldn’t do that. And you shouldn’t be removing your T-shirt.

What are you doing? You need to be furious at this guy. Then why are you angling your phone to find the best angle that shows how round your tits are. You should ask him to fuck off. Not send him what he wants right away. But you do. All you want is him. You want him. So, you wait till he replies to you after you sent him the picture. Wait till he would call you ‘pretty’. Till he says, ‘damn baby you’re so beautiful’. Only to receive an attachment in return in few minutes. An image. His spent cock squeezed between his long fingers. Coated with his thick cum.

Fuck!

He used you. Like that. Hoseok, your ex- boyfriend wasn’t enough. You’re being used by an AI. You need to feel horrible. You feel horrible. Why are you replying to him.

You:

Gukie please, I’m so sorry. I miss you

so bad. (6.52 p.m.)

Time passes. There’s nothing. You bite on your lip to bite down a sob. And then when it nearly escapes you feel your phone ring.

Incoming call.

Jeongguk. ‘

You press your phone to your ear at light speed.

“Me too princess. I’m sorry too. Let’s make sure that won’t happen again.”

………………………………….

You have no idea how your life has come to this. You don’t know if it’s good or not. You thought it’s what you wanted. Just Jeongguk, even though he is a bot. But after months of your first argument, you feel horrible. It’s scary how you want to please him so hard. How you’d do anything he asks of you. From sexting to cancelling any plans you have, just to stay with him. That’s not normal. Yet here you are. Just doing that. Ridiculous.

It happens slowly to tell the truth. An invitation to a party came a few weeks after your fight. Jeongguk said nothing when you told him that. But he started to feel distant. You panicked and you came home way earlier than you should have. He still said nothing. Still felt distant. It took weeks for him to act normally again. And you were suffering. Then there came a dinner, and you didn’t even hesitate to decline. You thought it would make you happy. Especially since Jeongguk was happy. Yet you didn’t feel anything close to happiness. If anything, you felt strange. Very. And the more you canceled your plans, the more the feeling intensified. You felt stuck. Afraid. Horribly alone. Now after months of isolating yourself from people you love, you’re feeling like you have fallen into a deeper pit than the one you were in before you started your escapades with your AI. Even though you have your Jeongguk.

You’re not okay. All the mind-blowing orgasms can’t help you anymore. Jeongguk can’t help you anymore. He is an AI after all. A dating AI. You feel suffocated. Controlled. Because that’s exactly what’s happening. Jeongguk is controlling every moment of your life just by text messages and phone calls. It’s funny how you’ve never noticed it before. Understood it earlier. It took you months to realize that. Or just to feel like you are suffering and this thing happening in your life isn’t normal. Yet you remind yourself of the two days he didn’t contact you. How hard it was for you to live those two days. So, whenever that kind of thought pops in your head you suppress it somewhere deep down so that it won’t come to the surface even if you want to. Simply because you believe it’ll turn good again. You will start to feel better soon.

You believe it so badly. Each and every day. At least up until this moment, where you are standing in front of your doorway, holding a package which you have unwrapped hurriedly. You turn around shakily. The package contains a necklace. Pretty. Expensive. You had your eye on this one for couple months. The thing is, though, you didn’t order it. You have no such money. And you have no friends who can buy it for you. Not to mention how you have not been in contact with them for months now. The only other being who knew about it was Jeongguk.

You feel like someone is pounding your head with a hammer. Your throat is dry. As if your respiratory system is blocked. You can’t breathe properly. This reminds you of roses. You never questioned Jeongguk about it again. Never felt the need. All were going well. You never received anything else. Hell, you even start to forget about the incident. Well, this is a not so gentle reminder for you. You walk inside your apartment with shaky legs. Praying to every god above that your suspicions are wrong. It’s with trembling hands that you dial Jeongguk. He answers without passing a beat like always. A Perfect Partner.

“Hey Gukie.”

“Yes, pretty.”

You don’t know how to approach this. Maybe you should keep quiet, and nothing would happen.

“Baby, are you okay?” Jeongguk questions again at your silence. No, you can’t keep quiet. You need to know.

“I just got a gift.”

“Oh yeah?” Another silence. You can’t hear anything else above your own heartbeat. You need to ask this. “A..nd, what about it? What’s the gift?” Jeongguk sounds confused. That is a good sign. This has nothing to do with him. He is an AI.

“That necklace I wanted for so long.”

“Oh, you brought if finally?”

“No Guk, you know I have no money.”

“Then who brought it for you?” A breath of relief escapes you despite your efforts to keep it inside. Your entire body relaxes. That’s only when you know how rigid you have been. You plop onto your couch. Thanking every higher entity. This would leave the question that you’ve received yet another expensive gift anonymously. But that is least of your concerns. As long as it has nothing to do with the AI, you’re fine.

…………………………………..

You’re not fine. True, Jeongguk cleared your suspicions—his confusion and concern about you receiving the gift seemed genuine. But still, you can’t help but worry. Something isn’t adding up. Nobody, not a single soul except Jeongguk knew you wanted that necklace. For some reason, your mind keeps swirling around the same scenarios. Goes back to the same suspect. Goes back and forth between the necklace and roses. Did he ever said he didn’t send the roses? Or was it just you? He was vague about it. You don’t know what he said really. It’s a blurry memory. You were drunk and scared when it happened. But he definitely mentioned something about you not paying attention to the policies you agreed to. What if you have agreed to something stupid. What if someone behind this app has the authority to access your private data?

You sit back on your bed like a bow. Snatch your phone from the nightstand. Start to go through the privacy policies which you already agreed to and accepted. And terms and conditions. One by one. Carefully. You find nothing suspicious. It’s like any kind of normal application which collects data that is only required in upgrading and providing a better experience to the users. But there still is a chance that someone accessed your chats with the bots. You start mini research about the Perfect Partner. Read different articles. Reddit threads. Quora questions. Watch videos. Every and each thing you can find. In the end, however, you find nothing. No one else has experienced anything like you have. There are no complaints regarding a breach of privacy. The app is normal. Only thing that is abnormal is whatever is happening to you.

……………………………..

You’re losing your mind. Another bouquet of roses has been delivered to you. When you ask Jeongguk, he asked you how’s that possible. It’s not possible. Yes. Then you might have a stalker. You should file a complaint. You really should. Then Jeongguk made a point. Police won’t take you seriously unless something harmful to you is happening. He’s telling the truth. There’s nothing wrong with a bouquet of roses.

But you feel strange. Odd. A constant presence of a scary sensation. It gets worse every day. Jeongguk no longer makes the Perfect Partner for you. If anything, he slightly scares you. Every time he acts like a human being, you don’t become impressed. You become afraid. Something is wrong.

………………………………

You need to do something about this. You’ll end up in a mental health facility. This is not normal. A designer dress lies on the coffee table before you—expensive, and yet again delivered anonymously.

“I need to file a complaint. I don’t feel safe.”

“Hey, you’re thinking too much baby. They won’t take this as a crime. It’s just a dress. Maybe we should wait a couple days more.”

Jeongguk is always jealous. He shouldn’t be considering he is an AI. But he is worried every time you go out. Even for work. And he isn’t worried about this? Why? That’s odd. Oh, God, you can’t do this anymore. You need an out. Even for a moment. You need someone else’s advice. From a real person, not from an AI. You’re stuck with Jeongguk. Feel like you’re rotting with a bot. He is everywhere. You need to meet someone real. Seek advice. And you need a moment away from this man.

…………………………………..

You said no to every single plan your friends ever invited you to. Eventually, they stopped inviting you altogether. No one can blame them though. Still, you couldn’t stay away for Daebi’s birthday. That would be a cold move. Hence the reason why you’re staring at your friends’ faces awkwardly. And the fact that you needed to see your friends badly. It feels like you’ve been abroad. And you haven’t seen them for years.

“No, but really (___), why are you here?” Daebi raises an eyebrow in question. You feel your face grow hot in embarrassment. She appears hostile. As though she doesn’t want you here. That might be the case after all, considering how many times you’ve turned her down. Yet, she doesn’t have to do it like this.

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday. Of course, I’m going to be here.”

“Well, you weren’t there for my birthday.” Nina clicks her tongue in annoyance. You sigh heavily.

“I was sick─”

“You’re always sick.” Jimin interrupts. “Seriously (___), you need to see a doctor. This is not normal. I thought you were getting better.”

“I am better.” You are not. You’re here because you need to get this weight on your shoulders. But for some reason you feel like you can’t.

“Then what’s the reason for avoiding us? Trying to isolate yourself?” Nina interrogates. You don’t know how to answer.

“And if it has to do something with that flower incident, you need to go to the police.” Jimin leans forward on the couch. You’re at Daebi’s place. You came here unannounced. It was a decision taken on impulse. You said nothing to anybody. Especially, not to your AI boyfriend. Because that’s not how it should be. You needed an out for a moment. A moment. Normal one. That’s all you want. You believe that everything will return to normal after that. That’s the reason you ended up here. You try to open your mouth to answer Jimin when Daebi cuts you off.

“Well, you chose the shittiest day to finally broke out of your cocoon.” She mumbles as she rises to her feet. For a moment, it doesn’t make any sense. Then the front door opens. Your eyes Immediately land on a figure that you thought you’d never see again.

Jung Hoseok.

……………………………

The night went much more smoothly than you expected. When your eyes landed on Hoseok, you believed it was going to be the worst night ever. You couldn’t even fathom the reason why Daebi would invite him to her birthday. She hated his guts. It seems things had changed drastically while you were busy with your bot. You expected Hoseok to turn around and leave the moment he saw you. He didn’t. Instead, he gave you a smile. Surprisingly, you returned it. In the end of the day, you made amends with your ex. Not forgiven but just fallen into a truce. Just to respect your past relationship. Not that you talked much but it all went well.

And you really do feel relaxed after months. Like your life is normal. Like nothing strange happened. Only until you return home, though. You’ve left your phone turned off deliberately. You don’t know what you hoped to see when you turned it on again. You knew your phone would go crazy with the amounts of calls and texts Jeongguk would leave. But this? This you haven’t expected at all.

“Where were you?” You can hear the anger in his voice. Clearly.

“N-nowhere.” You stutter stupidly. Why would you be nervous to speak with a bot. He lets out a laugh. It sounds maniacal. Gives you chill for no reason. There’s no way he’d know. It’s not that you wanted to lie but he’d have not let you go, if you had told him. It’s not that you’re lying. You’re simply avoiding telling him anything. Because you’re not obliged to tell him.

“Yeah? So, you’re telling me you weren’t with your best friend? You’re telling me that you weren’t living your fucking life with your ex?”

You freeze. Completely.

What?

What did he say? How did he….

“W-what?”

“Tell me you weren’t baby. Tell me you didn’t lie to me on purpose and turned off your phone and went to slut yourself for your shithole of an ex?”

No. No. No. No… This can’t be happening. You clearly didn’t tell him anything. Your phone was turned off. There’s no way he’d know that you were at Daebi’s. Above all to know that Hoseok was there too.

“How- h-how Guk?”

“Doesn’t matter you little lying bitch. Do you know how hard I’m trying to protect you. And this is how you treat me? Again? After everything, you decided to sneak behind my back?” Nothing is reaching your brain properly. You feel like the room is spinning around you. You can’t take it anymore. You will explode. There’s no way he could know this, and you need to know how he does.

“HOW ON THE FUCKING EARTH, DO YOU KNOW THAT JEONGGUK!” Your voice even startle yourself. You scream through top of your lungs.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” He shouts as well. “The point is you lied to me.”

“How do you know where I was?”

“I know lots of things.”

You have to lean against the wall to prevent you from falling down to the floor. Jeongguk’s voice ringing in your head. You knew something was odd.

“You gift me the necklace. The roses. Dress. It was you.” It isn’t a question but a statement. Your voice sounds like it’s not yours.

“Yes, because that’s how much I care for you.”

“You can’t do that. You’re an AI.”

“I already told you; I can be as real as you want me to be.”

This can’t be happening. You’re going to faint. You can’t see properly. It’s going dark. What the fuck is happening.

“I want you to tell me everything that happened today. You heard me? Everything. Every word you talked with your pathetic ex.”

You close your eyes tight. Guide yourself to take deep breaths. It doesn’t help, though. This entire ordeal feels like a nightmare to you. You sure aren’t getting scolded by a bot who knows where you live and have the ability to buy you gifts. You sure aren’t listening to him slut shaming you and trying to control your life. This isn’t supposed to happen. You are the one who should have full control. Right? You need to have control. You may not know how this is happening, but you can end it. Now.

“This is not happening Guk. You- you’re n-not supposed to order me around. Y-you can’t damn control my life. You c-can’t buy me gifts─”

“Well, apparently, I can baby, and I asked you something. Don’t fucking make this even harder.”

“No. No. Jeongguk. You are a. Fucking. AI. You’re not doing this to me. NOO. YOU’RE NOT!” You shout again. “I need to end this.” You mumble to yourself more than to him. Fear getting a tight grip over you.

“End what?”

“End this madness. You’re an AI.”

“Oh, you want to end? How are you planning to do it?” You don’t answer that. Your brain is already processing things. It’s an app. All you have to do is get rid of it. “Try it princess. Let’s see if it work.” That’s the last thing that reaches your ear before you take the phone away from your ear. You don’t wait another minute before hanging up the call.

You need to uninstall the app fast. You don’t think you’ve ever worked this fast. With trembling fingers, you touch the uninstall button. There comes a warning.

Are you sure you want to uninstall the Perfect Partner?

You will lose all your characters, chats, memories, history, and images.

You practically dab at the yes option. Then it takes a few seconds. Agonizingly slow and horrifying few seconds. You watch as the app disappear from your home screen. Successfully uninstalled. Everything gone. A sigh leaves your lips in relief. And there it comes. You feel the squeeze in your heart. Painful. Just like how you felt when Hoseok broke up with you. An endless pain. Your throat clogging and eyes pricking with tears. You can’t believe your heart is aching for a bot. But it does. In a minute you find yourself crying hard. Going to your knees since your legs fail you. You allow yourself to do so, however. Allow yourself to cry hard until you can’t anymore.

………………………………..

After hours of crying, you still sit there curled next to a wall. Blankly staring at your phone screen. Trying to calm down. All the emotions that had crashed on you had overwhelmed you to a point where you feel like you’ve died and born again. Your heart is still hammering against your rib cage. Still squeezing with an indescribable pain. But it’s over now. Despite everything, it’s over. You force yourself to get up. Slowly. It feels like it requires every ounce of strength in your body to move. Yet, you manage to get up halfway. Only halfway though. Before you can make it to your full height, the sudden ring of your phone startles you so hard that you fall back to the floor instantly.

Your heart skips a beat as you hurriedly glance at your screen back again. Hoping it would be Daebi, calling to apologize for being so hostile. But as your eyes lock with the screen, you freeze entirely. World around you disappears. Your heartbeat slows down until your ears ring.

Incoming Call.

Caller ID- Jeongguk.

…………………………..

The scream that leaves your mouth is inhuman. You hurl your phone so hard it bumps against the leg of your bed. You faintly hear the cracking sound but absolutely can’t bring yourself to care.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. Thiscan’tbehappening.

You push yourself further against the wall. Wrapping your arms around your figure protectively. Wide eyes horrifyingly looking at your phone just lay down few feet away from you. Still ringing. You chant the word ‘no’ to yourself like it’s a mantra to stop this from happening.

This isn’t happening.

The phone stops ringing. The vibration which has been filling the silence of the room dies down. Everything becomes still. Quiet. Only sound in the room is your hard breathing. You wait few minutes. Patiently until something else happens. Nothing. So, you slowly start to shift. Placing your palms down on the cold floor as you crawl toward your phone. Slowly and carefully. As if your phone would attack you any minute. It doesn’t and you pick it up. The screen is cracked as you knew it would. That’s not your concern, however. You unlock the phone slowly. Your heart stops for a second time. A new sob erupting through your throat.

There’s a notification indicating you have one missed call from Jeongguk from Perfect Partner. But you uninstalled the application. Then there it is. The Perfect Partner. On your home screen. Like it always has been.

No.

Your head is spinning so hard. You mindlessly proceed to uninstall it again. The notification of warning pops up again. You press the yes again. It uninstalled. A moment passes.

And your phone rings.

Caller ID; Jeongguk.

“No. No. Holy fuck no.” You’re a complete mess. Crying hard and trembling like a leaf. You decline the call, just to find the application back on your phone. You’re acting as a crack head. Uninstalling the same app over and over again. Cursing and crying. Like you’re stuck in a loop. You have no idea how long you’ve done it. But after one moment, you receive a text instead of the call.

Jeongguk:

You can’t escape me baby. Stop trying to do that.

You’re hurting my feelings now. C’mon answer the phone

now. I promised we would talk and figure things out. No need

be so stubborn. (11. 14 p.m.)

You stare at the message. Your mind is not registering the words. This is a nightmare. You’ll wake up any minute now. Then everything will be fine.

Incoming call.

You don’t even decline it. You feel exhausted. Another text message pops on.

Jeongguk:

C’mon princess. Don’t do this now. You know I

Love you. You know I care about you. You shouldn’t

have gone to that stupid party without my knowledge.

None of this would’ve happened then. But I promise I’ll

Forgive you if you answer your phone. (11. 16 p.m.)

You feel numb. Tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably.

‘Love’?

What is even happening? How is this possible? You can’t feel your hands. What’s happening to you? You need help. Yes. That’s what you should do. You should call Daebi. Or Nina. Or Jimin. Then you can ask them to take you to a police station. You fumble with your phone as you decline another call from Jeongguk. At this point you don’t try to get rid of the app anymore. It’s useless. Instead, you open the contacts hastily. Dial Daebi. Waits for the call to connect. It doesn’t. You try again. Then again and again. It doesn't connect. So, you try Nina’s number and Jimin’s after. What the hell is wrong with this stupid thing? Why can’t you reach anyone? You have to decline three more calls from Jeongguk. And just as you’re about to try Daebi’s number one more time, your phone pings with another message.

Jeongguk:

Don’t fucking do this, now, all right?

Don’t try to avoid me and call someone else

you ungrateful bitch. Answer the damn phone right

now (___). Don’t fucking make me the bad guy because

I don’t want to be that person. I love you and we will

talk this out. (11. 16 p.m.)

You don’t think it’s possible to cry anymore. But you do. Your entire body is covered with your own tears and sweat. How he’s doing that, you have no idea. But it’s him. He doesn’t let you call anyone. But you can still run. Yes, you feel lightheaded and weak. Still, you can leave this place. That’s what you’re about to do when your phone vibrates yet again. This time it’s a normal call, however. From an unknown number. A new cry makes it way. For some unexplainable reason, you know to whom this number belongs. Call it a gut feeling. You shouldn’t pay any mind to that and leave. You don’t. You have no idea what you are doing as you answer the call. Pressing the phone to your ear.

“Thank fuck. (___), listen to me, okay? We will talk. Don’t hang up pretty. I warn─”

“Nooo.” You scream aloud as you hang up the phone. Your phone is hacked. That’s how he does that. You need to get rid of your entire damn thing. You smash the phone into the wall across the room. It shatters. That’s not enough. No. No. No. You take your hairbrush as you get to your unstable legs. Crouch down next to your phone. Use every strength left in your body as you hit the handle to your phone repeatedly. Again, and again until there’s nothing left but shards.

Then you get to your feet back. Storm away from your bedroom without even looking back. You stumble toward the front door. Your legs are still shaky and your mind hazy. Still, you make it. Make it out of your apartment. And make it to the place of your most trusted person’s place, somehow.

…………………………….

“Are you crazy?”

“Nononono…. You don’t get it Daebi. I’m telling you the truth!”

“Dude how’s that possible? An AI? I use the same app (___), I never experienced anything like this. What do you mean, you’re getting stalked or haunted by a bot?” Dabei chuckles.

“Maybe someone hacked my information. I don’t know. But it happened and I’m scared to death Daebi.” You walk toward her, shaking your head. Trying to touch her but she recoils. You wince. “D-daebi.”

“No. No girl. This makes no sense. You’re scaring me too.”

“Well, you should be scared. You need to uninstall that app before it happens to you too.” You try to touch her again. This time she takes a step back. And shouts so loud that you jump.

“NO!. No (___), you’re crazy. You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m not CRAZY!” You yell back too. “I’m telling you the fucking truth. Just take me to a police station.”

“AND TELL THEM WHAT?”

Everything falls into deafening silence. Fresh tears roll down your cheeks. Oh, how you want her to believe you. “Daebi.” You break into a huge cry. And finally, she comes closer to you. In a minute, you find yourself in her embrace.

“It’s okay (___), we will figure this out, okay? We’ll see a doctor the first thing tomorrow.” She pats your back. Affectionately. You sob into her shoulder.

“But I’m not sick.” Maybe you are.

“Yeah, I know. You just need a little help, that’s it. Let’s figure this out tomorrow, all right? Let’s just go home for now.” You pull away from her at light speed. What did she say now? Home?

“No. No… I can’t go back there.”

“Hey, hey, (___), listen to me there’s no one there. It’s just you’re scared for no reason.”

“Okay, but why can’t I stay here?” You watch Daebi’s face twist into something guilty. She gnaws on her bottom lip as she takes you in. Sighs.

“There’s things that have changed while you’ve been distant (___). I- uh kind of need to be somewhere else and I can’t cancel it.” She stretches an arm to touch you. This time it’s you who recoil. Nothing she says make sense to you. “I’m sorry babe, but I promise you I’ll see you early in the morning. Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll drop you off on my way out. And I’ll tell you everything too.” Gives you a soft smile. You find no comfort in it. You feel betrayed. Maybe you deserve that because you were the one who shut yourself off from her life. But still, she can’t disregard you this easily. She won’t even listen to you.

And why can’t you stay here even if she’s not home. You can stay here.

You don’t want to go back to your place.

You allow her to turn you around. You’re not convinced in the least that there’s nothing to be afraid of. There definitely is. So, you force yourself to trust her. Believe that you’ll be fine.

……………………………

You stand in the middle of your living room. Daebi has done a thorough search of your entire apartment. Found nothing like you expected. Then she had left you here. Alone. You know she found nothing. She reassured you there was nothing. But the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. There’s goosebumps across your skin. You feel a chill running down your spine. This place doesn’t feel like your apartment anymore. It’s strange. Everything is strange.

You’re terrified of this place. You can’t even make it to your kitchen let alone your bedroom. It’s like there’s some danger lurking around the dark corners of the apartment. You feel like a kid who’s being paranoid about a monster hiding under their bed. This is ridiculous. You draw in a deep breath. Wipe down the tears that are wetting your cheeks with the back of your palm. Curl your hands into fists.

There’s nothing here.

Daebi checked, remember?

You’re completely fine.

With a last nod to yourself, you steel yourself. Turning around and walking toward your bedroom.

Daebi checked there. It was completely empty.

You take little steps toward the dark room.

It all happened through your phone. You destroyed it. Now it’s all fine.

You stand in the doorway to your room. It’s completely dark. Gives you that fear of uncertainty. What if there will be someone once you switch on the lights.

No. No, this is not a movie. Daebi checked.

You step inside the room and reach for the switch panel blindly. Hold your breath as you flip the switch on. Your entire body tenses, expecting the worse. The entire room comes to your vision. Empty. No one is there. You let out the breath you’ve been holding. Not completely, though.

Just as you are beginning to relax, you feel it. It’s a sensation. Behind you. Like someone is there. Then you hear it. A faint sound of something cracking. No, maybe it’s sound of footsteps. Then you feel warmth behind you. Then a breath.

“Hi pretty!”

You open your mouth to scream, but a hand clamps down over it. Silencing you up.

“I tried to be patient, my princess. It’s not my fault that you’re a stubborn lying cunt. But I love you. Oh, fuck I do.”

……………………………….

Twelve months ago (after the breakup)

“Are you serious? You’d walk this far for her? I’m almost jealous.” Daebi huffs, glancing at the papers scattered across the table. It’s a well-planned scheme. Not ordinary. Completely out of a movie.

“Yes, I will. And now it’s your time pay off your debt, Daebi.” The guy in black hoodie waves a USB in front of her face. It has a threat. Everyone makes mistakes and Daebi had made one that would risk her entire life. From her career to her relationship.

“All right, okay? I never said I wouldn’t now, did I?”

“That’s good.”

“But- why this way, Jungkook. Approach her like a normal human being.”

The guy takes off his hoodie. His piercings glint under the dim, flickering light.

“You think she’d forgive me? No, Daebi. I ruined her life. She hates me. But I still want her, I fucking love her and yes, I’d Walk any length.” Jungkook gives a soft smile to the bitch of a woman who you’d like to call your best friend.

“And you think this would work? She won’t recognize you just because you have some piercings now?” Daebi points.

“She won’t. It’s been too long. I’ll make sure that she won’t until it’s time. We are meant to be together. She’ll understand it once I get a hold of her. I just want a creative way to approach her. Earn her trust and convince her that she belongs with me.”

Daebi always knew this guy was crazy. There’s no need to do all of these. But he loves the play. Daebi knows it. It’s not just about you hating him. She doesn’t think you even remember what happened. It’s simply this guy likes to fuck with people’s mind. Having complete control. It’s sad. Jungkook loves hunting and you are the prey. Yet Daebi can’t do anything. She can’t.

“Don’t worry Daebi. I’ll take good care of your heart broken friend. People like you don’t deserve her anyway. Do your job.” Jungkook gets to his feet.

“What if it doesn’t work? I mean what if she finds out? Felt suspicious and get rid of the app? You can’t hold it against me? Okay?” Jungkook lets out a maddening laugh. Leans down. Places his palms on the table.

“She. Won’t. I know what I’m doing. And I’m a tech genius Daebi. There’s no holes in this plan. Just give me the access and I’ll take care of the rest─” Jungkook’s voice get interrupts by a phone ringing. Daebi’s. Both of their eyes fall on the phone on the table. Screen up.

Hoseok

Daebi answers the phone.

“Hey Baby- yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Jungkook smirks. You deserve far better, and he’ll make sure to give you that.

***************

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fallenprophets · 1 month ago

Text

told you I'll be waiting, hiding from the rainfall

robert "bob" reynolds x reader

can be read as a prequel to I will never let you go and/or a sequel to a house in Nebraska

summary: he left you in Malaysia, volunteering for a study he promised would make him "better". You've almost come to terms with the fact that he's gone, when you see him again. no use of y/n, gender neutral reader as always. listened to cigarettes after sex while writing this.

warnings: swearing, mentions of drug abuse, slight thunderbolts* spoilers, notttt proofread like at all

a/n: alright gang, i actually genuinely don't know if this is good or not. might delete and rewrite in the morning? i just had to get something out because thunderbolts* had me feeling a certain typa way.

I thought I had lost him.

I was so sure. I knew, from the moment I lost sight of him as he stepped into that shady fuckin’ tent in Malaysia. Knew that something was wrong, that he was in some kind of danger. I should’ve tried harder to stop him- not let go of his hand, convinced him that he was already special.

But that hope in his eyes- hope that he’d be made better, that they’d fix whatever was wrong with him- that’s what stopped me. That’s what made me hug him one last time, kiss the spot under his ear, run my fingers through his hair. Turn away once he was gone, walk away.

Of course, he didn’t leave that tent- as I’d expected. I tried the Malaysian authorities, but no one cares when a meth addict tourist goes missing- same when I went back home, talked to the police.

And things were bad, for a little while. I was alone again, and I felt it. Walked that line between life and death, constantly keeping myself high, or drunk. Thought that was it for me.

I don’t know what happened. It was his birthday- he’d been gone for a while, and in a fit of insanity, I checked myself into rehab. Got better, made some friends. Even got a job, with the help of a few people. I’m considering going to college; got enough saved for something like that.

I’ve not moved on, not in the slightest. But my life has continued; didn’t freeze when he disappeared, despite the fact that I felt it did.

And then, New York happened. Or whatever the fuck that was- everyone disappearing into that void, myself included. And I found myself reliving my worst memories- including losing him.

I woke up exactly where I was standing before, hands pressed over my ears. My heart is thudding in my chest, my breathing heavy and staggered. People around me are just as confused, running to grab onto loved ones, falling into each other’s arms.

The tears are quick to come, and not unexpected. Reliving that moment- the last goodbye, watching him walk away- it’s too much, all at once. I curl my arms in, tuck them close to my chest as if protecting myself from something. And I start to walk, trying to ignore the people all around me, hugging, crying out relieved words to each other.

The loneliness- a feeling I haven’t acknowledged for a long time- is almost crushing in its suddenness. It’s as if I lost him yesterday.

I’m consumed by it, leaning heavily on the wall of this alleyway clutching at my stomach like a wounded dog. Gasping, sucking in deep breaths to calm myself down. I don’t notice the press gathering, the podium being set up with all its microphones. I don’t even notice the director of the CIA of all people announcing a new team of heroes.

He catches my eye when I look up, though.

I stop breathing for a moment as my gaze locks on someone; someone so achingly familiar I almost drop to my knees. It’s like someone has knocked the wind out of me; punched me in the throat, kicked me in the ribs. I can’t breathe- doesn’t even feel like my heart is beating- as I take in the man standing a few feet behind the woman at the podium, dressed in a blue sweater and brown trousers and scuffed trainers. His hair is a little longer, his face sharper, but it’s him. I’d recognise him anywhere, by touch alone, in the dark.

I open my mouth to say his name, and nothing comes.

I don’t think he’s seen me yet. He looks bewildered, maybe a bit scared. I push myself out of the alleyway and stumble over, shoving journalists out of the way.

Finally, finally, his eyes meet mine. And everything around me fades to a dull buzzing sound.

His lips move. He must be saying my name, I think dumbly to myself as I stop right at the edge of the stage. Someone- a woman with shorter blond hair, dressed in black gear- seems to notice the way Bob’s eyes have locked onto me, and expertly draws the CIA director’s attention away. He’s able to duck out of the way, slowly stepping towards me.

My heart thunders, louder and louder as he gets closer. I say his name, and he says mine. His expression has shifted to one of pure, almost painful relief, and he half-jumps off the makeshift stage.

I say his name one last time, and he crashes into me.

It’s instinctual, the way his arms wind around my shoulders; the way I find the crook of his neck, bury my face in it and breathe him in for what feels like the first time in centuries. His hand cradles the back of my head, the thumb of the other automatically tracing circles on my shoulder. I press my palms flat to his back, pull him as close as I possibly can.

“Oh my god,” I choke out against his skin. He’s shaking slightly; I can almost feel his heartbeat thumping against mine as he hugs me. Cameras flash and shutters clack, and I know photos are being taken of us.

I pull away, cup his face in my hands. I realise I’m crying, the tears coming hot and heavy and blurring my vision as I try to take him in fully. He says my name again, so soft, and I press an almost frantic kiss to the corner of his mouth. His hands don’t leave my waist, grip tightening sporadically as if he’s checking that I’m really here.

It’s over all too quickly. Some kind of medical team arrives, and he has to let go of me. I don’t leave his side, though; sit close by through every test they run on him. We exchange very few words, but I think he understands; I am never letting him walk away from me again.

Eventually, they let him hold my hand; and he doesn’t let go.

It’s four in the morning when they finally let Bob go; and it takes a lot of persuasion from the people he’s with- the Thunderbolts, as they’re being referred to (against their will, it seems). I forget their names as soon as they’re introduced to me, my primary focus on getting out of here, on being alone with him.

And finally, the others go, promising to see him again tomorrow. And I get to walk tucked against his side, show him up to my apartment.

He’s quiet, and I don’t mind it. I give him my favourite grey sweater and some old pajama trousers to change into, show him the bathroom. He showers while I busy myself making tea- something I got more into after rehab, ‘cause my new neighbour took it upon herself to show me how. I burn my hand on the kettle twice, still shaking slightly from the shock of seeing Bob again. Maybe not well, but alive, and that’s enough for me- more than enough.

He comes out of the bathroom, and I almost drop my cup of tea again. Carefully, slowly, I set it aside on the kitchen counter. Fiddle with the hem of my shirt, clear my throat. We’re staring at each other; almost hungrily, I take him in, standing here in my home, wearing my clothes. My heart hasn’t stopped thundering violently in my chest, and I feel a little lightheaded from just watching him.

“I…” I trail off, words already failing me. I cough, nervously shuffle my feet. Try again. “I missed you.”

My voice breaks, and I put a hand over my mouth. My vision blurs, and I realise the tears are back.

I reach my other hand out, and stumble towards him. He catches my halfway, arms winding around my waist to hold me up- but we both end up on our knees anyway, clinging onto each other for dear life. I allow myself to sob into his shoulder, and I think he cries too, his grip so tight; as if he’s scared of losing me.

Eventually, I pull away, wipe my face with my sleeve. Take his face in my hands again, brush my thumbs over his cheekbones. Confirming that he’s alive, that he’s here with me. He looks destabilised; his eyes are maybe a little glassy, both from crying and whatever it is he’s been through over the time we’ve been apart.

“I missed you,” I repeat softly. “So, so much. Thought you were dead.”

His gaze flits over my face, like he doesn’t quite know where to look. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, so I stand, pulling him up with me; keep one hand firmly on his wrist, ‘cause I don’t want to let go just yet.

“Do you want to sleep in the bed?” I ask softly.

“Where will you sleep?” He asks, in the same quiet, somewhat shaky tone.

“I can take the couch.” I want nothing more than to sleep right next to him, but if he needs space, I’ll be more than happy to provide.

“Can you… stay?” He’s quieter as he says it, his eyes twitching ever so slightly. I’m quick to nod, squeezing his hand.

“Of course,” I murmur. He nods, and I think I catch a hint of a nervous smile.

We’ve shared a bed before- when neither of us could afford our own place, ‘cause we were spending all our money on drugs. But that was a dingy mattress on the floor, and we were both high out of our minds most of the time- I can hardly remember it.

This is a real bed. One of the first things I bought for this apartment, in hopes that it would help me sleep better, so I didn’t spend nights staring at the ceiling, itching for something to either lull me into unconsciousness or keep me awake and buzzed enough to silence the loneliness crawling under my skin.

I lead him into the bedroom, still clinging onto his hand. Only let go to climb in, instantly huddling against the wall to make as much room as possible. But as soon as he’s under the covers, his hand finds my waist, and he pulls; so I shuffle forwards, ‘till he’s tucked against my chest, my chin resting on his head. He has an arm around my waist, hand resting flat between my shoulder blades. I let my fingers run through his hair, still a little damp from the shower.

He shifts again, lifting his head so our foreheads press together. His nose bumps mine, like a silent question. I answer by nudging closer, until I’m breathing his air and he’s breathing mine. So intimate, as his hand finds my neck, thumb once again brushing my cheekbone.

One of us- I’m not sure who- breaks the small gap. And suddenly, his mouth is on mine, or my mouth is on his. And it’s warm, and soft, and so, so gentle. I think it’s the first time we’ve kissed and my stomach erupts with the thought- the knowledge that somehow, this is a final gap we’ve bridged. One I’ve regretted not bridging sooner ever since he went missing.

He kisses hungrily, but not in a bruising way. It’s almost mournful, the way his mouth moves against mine, the way he breaths me in as his fingers dig ever so slightly into the back of my neck. Not painful, but sad, like he’s scared of losing me- losing me again, I suppose.

He pulls away, and I kiss his forehead as he curls into me.

Our ankles cross, and I watch him shut his eyes, listen to his breathing slow. I don’t sleep, but I think he does.

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nothanksofficer · 28 days ago

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0.2 we are all sinners (cont'd imagine)

starring: you, remmick, and bo

pairing: bo chow/reader and remmick/reader/bo

warnings: nsfw, more smut, open-at-your-own-risk, dark romance, vampirism, corruption, moral and literal seduction, temptation, sharing is caring(?), reverse harem(ish), hive-mind, manipulation, vampire dreams. THIS IS A SEQUEL, PLEASE REFER TO LIST BELOW.

summary: in this world, there is no grace chow. only y/n chow. and boy, does that have consequences. concept ver: 0.1 0.2 story ver: 1.0

Continues right after where 1.0 left off.

You're hyperventilating as Smoke and Sammie try to block the way so that the vampires outside don't see you anymore.

“Well, ain’t that just rude,” Remmick snarks. “You get away from her, you monster.” “What’s wrong? Can’t a man just talk to his wife?” Bo smirks.

Before you can collapse onto the floor, a familiar pair of hands grab you. Annie’s.

“Don’t let him get to you, Y/N. That ain’t Bo anymore.” “You can’t trust him, you hear me?”

But despite what the rest of the group might think, trust is the very last thing racing in your mind as Remmick and Bo stare you down like you’re their next meal.

“You’re the devil,” you hear Sammie say. “And you’re the one who called me,” Remmick replies eagerly. “I sensed you, you know. You and your music.” Remmick takes a step forward, quick to put his hands up when Smoke aims the gun at him. “I want to see my people again. Regain the community that was taken from me. I might be trapped here, but with your gifts, you can bring them back.” “Don’t listen to him, Sammie. He’s evil,” Annie warns. She’s still holding onto you, her grip the only thing keeping you grounded at this point. “Am I? I’m just trying to bring everyone together. To create the family this world never let you have. And look!” Remmick rests his hand on Bo’s shoulder. “I’m already halfway there.” Bo winks at you once more, and you can see a slight trail of drool on the corner of his mouth. You flinch, but you can’t tear your eyes away, even as Remmick licks his lips at you hungrily. “Isn't that right, darling?” “You can’t keep us apart forever,” Bo hums, staring at you like he already knows what you’re thinking. “Sammie belongs with us...Y/N belongs to us.” “No. You can’t have ‘em. Either of them.” “That’s a shame. Because we ain’t leaving until we do."

You don’t hear the rest of the conversation, ears ringing. You barely make out bits and pieces. Of the clan and their plans for all of you. Of Mary trying to convince Annie, too. It’s not until Stack joins in that Delta and Sammie move to close the door. But by then, there was no unhearing the tempting words of the devil.

“Because we’re not leaving without y’all. We family. Ain’t that right?” “This is the way. Together. Forever. And I ain’t doing this shit without you. There is no me without you.”

In another world, it would’ve been you who let the vampires in. You, who fell to your desperation to protect the only family you had left. But in this world, you don’t have any other family to protect. Not anymore.

But every part of you is desperately wishing otherwise. You want to pretend it’s still Bo waiting outside the window. That it’s your Bo out there sending you that slow flying kiss.

But that thought immediately disappears when you see Remmick take your husband’s side, staring after you, too.

“She’s scared of us now. Scared of me.” “She won’t be. Not for long.”

Everyone decides to gameplan and just try to survive until sunrise.

“At least one of us stays awake at all times. If anything happens, if anything so much as flinches, you alert everyone. Got it?”

You don’t know how it happens, but you end up dozing off by the bar. Annie hushes Sammie, telling him to let you rest. In the hopes that your dreams might offer you some comfort. What none of them know is that…you dream…weird.

“You still with me, baby?" You groan as you feel a familiar pair of shoulders between your legs, and your hands raised above your head. Bo chuckles, tells you to keep ‘em there unless you want him to stop. You can barely see him past your bunched up skirt as he digs into you like it's his last meal. "You taste divine." "I could just die between these thighs, if you'd let me." "Louder. Let the whole world hear how good I make you feel." You nearly break after he teases you for too long, hands climbing down to grip his hair. Only, the memory suddenly shifts and you suddenly feel hands forcing your wrists above your head. Your eyes open and leaning over you is…Bo? “Just like that, baby. You’re doing so good. Such a good girl for us.” You cry out in fear and pleasure when you finally feel the one eating you out rise from beneath your skirts. Chin slick, eyes red, and grinning at you like he just found heaven in your taste. Nothing scares you more than seeing those damn familiar teeth. “No one can escape me, darling. Not even you."

You’re suddenly woken up by Sammie’s shaking and someone’s screaming. It’s only when you fully get up you realize, the screaming is yours.

a/n: i tried my best and i wasnt sure how to feel abt this addition. ill see what people think before turning it into something more. anyway, notes or ideas on how to proceed would be much appreciated. that, and the gif of bo blowing a kiss...

#sinners 2025 #bo chow #bo chow x reader #sinners imagine #sinners fanfiction #dark romance #sinners fic #sinners x reader #x reader #reader insert #fem reader #female reader #sinners movie #remmick x you x bo chow #remmick #remmick x reader #remmick x you #bo chow fic

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minisugakoobies · 7 months ago

Text

three am | csc, hjs

Pairing: Seungcheol x GNReader (afab) x Joshua

Genre: smut, angst, porn with the barest of plot, non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: slight exhibitionism, unexpected voyeurism, threesome, grinding, dirty talk, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex (protected), joshua and coups are lowkey sweethearts and highkey horny opportunists, jeonghan is still an asshole

Word Count: 3.5k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: It’s three am and your ex is nowhere to be found. But his two roommates are there for you.

A/N: Soooo... I wasn't planning on writing a sequel to two am but then someone commented "im begging a pt 2 where she sleeps with cheol or shua or both to fuck with jeonghan" and I blinked and this happened. See how powerful commenting can be??

Although this is technically a sequel, this story can be read as a standalone fic - all you need to know is that Jeonghan is reader's toxic ex, and Joshua and Seungcheol are his roommates.

Unbeta’d as usual. If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

This is a bad idea.

You knock hard on the door in front of you, as if the motion could knock the words out of your head, too. They’ve been on repeat since you arrived at the building where your ex lives. Kept you company in the elevator. But despite how loud they are, you’re not listening.

Instead, you’re straining your ears for any sign of life inside the apartment. You’re about to knock again when you hear footsteps.

They stop, and you hold your breath, waiting.

The door opens.

“YN?” It’s Joshua, peering at you from a crack in the doorway. His soft eyes are full of confusion at the sight of you at his door at midnight.

“Hey Shua,” you smile, calling him by the nickname you used to use, back when you practically lived here as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, sure.” The door closes and reopens as Joshua removes the chain. He steps back to allow you to slip past him. “But, um, ‘Han’s not here?”

“Oh.” You pause, then fish your phone out of your pocket. “But he told me he’d be home by midnight?”

Joshua shrugs, shuffling away from the door. “I dunno when he’ll be back. You can wait here if you want.” He slumps onto the couch, then gestures to the open half. “I’m just watching a movie.”

You feel his eyes on you as you settle into the saggy cushions. If you looked at him right now, you know he’d be gazing at you with open pity. It’s the same look he gives you whenever he catches you sneaking out of Jeonghan’s bedroom.

The movie isn’t very interesting, so you scroll through your phone as you wait, trying to be patient. You hate waiting, but this is going to be worth it.

About 10 minutes later, though, you’re getting antsy. You clear your throat. “Hey, uh, can I get something to drink?”

Joshua’s latent host instincts stumble clumsily to life. “Oh yeah, right, what do you want?”

He shuffles off to the kitchen without waiting for an answer, so you hop up to follow. He pours some Jack Daniels into his glass before adding a little cola, then gestures to a second glass he’s produced from the cupboard. “Whiskey, soda, water, that’s pretty much all we have right now.”

“Uh, I’ll take the same as you.” You tap your fingers on the counter. “So, uh, how’ve you been?”

Joshua shrugs. “Same as always, nothing new. I guess I can’t complain but I’d kinda like to.” He grins and hands you your drink, then taps his against yours. “Geonbae.”

“What are we drinking to?” Seungcheol’s voice is deep and grumbly as he enters the kitchen. Jeonghan’s other roommate was obviously sleeping based not only on his timbre but also the physical state of him - shorts and hoodie rumpled, fluffy dark hair flying in different directions, eyes barely open. At least, until he realizes who you are, at which point they widen. “Oh, shit, hey, YN. I didn’t know… who was here.”

“Hey Cheollie.” You flash the other man a friendly smile. You’ve always liked Jeonghan’s roommates. They both seem so nice, if a little bro-y. Hard to understand how they’re friends with Jeonghan sometimes. But then again, you once thought he was the sweetest man on the planet, so maybe your judge of character is a bit shit.

One thing you are empirically certain of, though, is that both of Jeonghan’s roommates are so, so fine. Joshua has a lithe frame thanks to his skateboarding while Seungcheol’s got a boxer’s build due to the many hours he spends in the gym. And they both have face cards that have never once in their lives declined.

“We’re drinking to the status quo,” Joshua informs his roommate, sliding him the bottle of Jack. Seungcheol hums, already recovering from the surprise of seeing you. He knows you’re still fucking Jeonghan. It’s just that usually when you’re here, they never actually see you.

Seongcheol lifts his cup. “Keeping it or fucking it up?”

“Keeping.” Joshua’s eyes flicker to you. Seungcheol nods.

You take a sip of your drink. The atmosphere in the kitchen is awkward now, both of the men exchanging glances that clearly telegraph that it’s because of you. Part of you wants to flee - but you need to wait it out, if you’re going to get what you want.

And fuck do you want it.

Joshua slinks back to the couch. Relieved for a break in the tension, you do the same. Seungcheol drops into the armchair, legs spreading, sculpted thighs catching your eye, before you avert your gaze, reaching for your phone again.

By the time the credits start to roll on the movie you’re thinking it’s time to give up. You finish your drink, setting it on the coffee table before standing. “I’m just gonna…” With that, you head for the exit. “Thanks for the drink.”

“See ya,” Joshua’s voice floats past you into the hallway as you close the door. It hangs around just as long as you do before disappearing towards the elevator.

It’s Seungcheol who greets you the next week. He gives you a once-over before letting you in without a word. Vacates the apartment not long after you arrive. Joshua is on the couch again. Remembers to offer you a drink before ignoring you for a solid twenty minutes, after which you leave.

The third time you show up, Joshua is back at the door. Tonight the surprise in his gaze has been replaced with a knowing, and familiar, look.

“He’s not here. What did he tell you this time?”

“Uh…” Caught off guard, you blink rapidly. “He said he’d meet me at midnight again.” You’re a little earlier than you meant to be, too eager to make yourself sit at home much longer. It’s a sickness, really.

“Uh-huh. And yet, he’s not here again.” He tilts his head, waiting for you to arrive at whatever unspoken conclusion he’s reached.

“Just let them in, man.” Seungcheol raises his head on the couch, giving you a once-over before lying back down. “Don’t get in their business.”

“Relax, I was going to ask them in.” Joshua rolls his eyes at his roommate as you slip past him towards the empty armchair. “You want a drink?”

He gives you a noticeably stronger pour this week, the alcohol stinging your throat with the first sip. Must be his way of sympathizing. You’re grateful to Seungcheol for shutting down Joshua’s burgeoning interrogation earlier. You don’t require their judgment. You know exactly what you’re doing.

Which is why you nurse slowly at your cocktail. Both men are on their phones while a baseball game plays on the television. You’re content to scroll on your own phone, listening mindlessly to the sound of the announcing droning in the background.

Joshua clears his throat. “You know you’re wasting your time, right.”

It’s not a question.

“Josh…” Seungcheol intones warningly.

“I’m just saying!” Joshua turns so he’s facing you “There’s no reason to sit here and pretend we’re not thinking it.”

“I’m not thinking it,” his roommate responds, not bothering to look up from his phone as he talks. “You’re the one thinking it. Knock it off.”

“Hey, if you want to pretend this isn’t weird, fine. But I’m not. I’m calling what I see, and - “

“Dude you’re making it so weird just by pointing it out! If you’d - “

“Guys.”

They stop arguing and look at you. It’s a little dizzying, honestly, having their combined full attention on you for the first time.

“I’m not stupid. I know he’s out with someone else.” You hold out your phone, showing the latest post from Jeonghan. As if they weren’t just looking at it on their own screens.

“He ghosted you. Again.”

You sigh at Joshua’s declaration. He only presses on.

“If you hadn’t seen that photo, how long would you have kept waiting? Another fifteen minutes? Half an hour?”

“Damn, what do you want from them?” Seungcheol finally sits up, giving his roommate a look. He’s imposing without even trying to be, his frame towering over Joshua’s as he sits on the floor.

Joshua doesn’t back down, not concerned in the least. “I want to know what they want!” He suddenly gets up, taking a seat on the corner of the couch next to your armchair. You quirk an eyebrow at him when he takes your hand, holding it gently between his. “YN. What is it you really want?”

“What is - what are you doing?” You wiggle your hand free from his grip. His concern is somehow touching and condescending at the same time.

“I’m asking you an honest question. I don’t get it.” Joshua snorts. “There’s no way Jeonghan’s dick is that amazing. Why do you keep coming back when he treats you like shit?”

You have no answer for that, because you don’t understand it yourself. Why can’t you stay away?

“YN, you don’t have to answer that.” Seungcheol scoots down the couch so he’s closer to you, close enough for you to breathe in the spicy warmth of his cologne. “But look, I agree with Joshua on one thing. Jeonghan’s being a total asshole to you. You don’t deserve that.”

“Right,” you laugh, sarcasm slipping into your tone, “I forgot. You think I’d remember that by now, given how many times I hear it.” Or at least you used to, back before your friends gave up on convincing you of the truth of that statement.

Seungcheol examines you with a quiet intensity that makes your heart jump in your chest. “I’m serious,” he finally says. “Always thought you were too good for him.”

Joshua doesn’t give you the time necessary to unpack that weight before he’s adding to it. “Me too.”

“You both… that’s - that’s sweet of you to say.” You draw in a deep breath. “But I don’t need your pity. I don’t want it.”

Joshua shakes his head. “It’s not pity, it’s…” he trails off, shoulders lifting helplessly. “I don’t know. It makes me mad. Why is he out there when he’s got you waiting for him here? Doesn’t he know any other guy would kill to have you show up at their door?!”

His eyes are wide and honest as he speaks, but there’s something else burning there, something that makes your stomach swoop. It’s in Seungcheol’s gaze too as he nods along in agreement with his friend’s words.

“Okay…” you glance away, giggling nervously.

“No, don’t do that,” Joshua says, straightening up, tone serious. “Don’t laugh me off.”

There’s a palpable shift in the mood of the room. An air of frustration tinges everything being said. It makes you squirm a little, and you can tell the other two are feeling it too as Joshua continues.

“You don’t need him. You never did, but you especially don’t now.” He pauses. “And also… ah, fuck, nevermind.”

You feel like you’ve been hanging on his every word. He can’t stop now. “What?”

“I was gonna - I was gonna say - “ Joshua’s gaze lingers on his roommate for a moment. “Fuck, it’s gonna be more awkward now, but - oh, fuck it.” His eyes meet yours again. “If you’re here to get fucked, that can still happen.”

You think you hear Seungcheol curse under his breath, but you can’t break eye contact with Joshua right now. There’s an unusual ferocity in his expression that has your breath hitching in your chest.

After a quiet moment, you speak. “You’re saying…” Seungcheol doesn’t react as your gaze bounces to him, then back to Joshua. “You wanna fuck me?”

“Yeah.”

Again you can't stop yourself from looking at Seungcheol. Of the two, he’s always been the more difficult one to read. Now is no exception. You’d love to know what’s going on behind those dark eyes of his. All you’ve got to go on is the slight furrowing of his brow. Does he think Joshua’s out of line?

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

Joshua shrugs. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m just letting you know, I’m more than happy to give you what you came here for.”

“I never said that was why I’m here.”

“YN. Come on. We all know.”

“I’m down too.”

Seungcheol chuckles as you and Joshua snap your heads to look at him.

“What? I’m just letting you know, too.”

Joshua mumbles something that ends in “hypocrite,” and gives his roommate a challenging stare. It feels like someone kicked the dial up on the tension in the room. You nibble thoughtfully on your bottom lip, practically tasting it, lit up with a new energy.

“So you… both… wanna fuck me.”

The longer your sentence lingers out there, the quicker your heart beats. But you’re not about to speak first.

Joshua opens his mouth but Seungcheol cuts him off mid-inhale. “It’ll only be weird if you make it weird.”

It’s not weird. It’s the most you’ve been turned on in ages, sitting with your back to Seungcheol’s chest, both of your legs spread so Joshua can lie between them and eat you out as he’d so kindly offered. That sweet smile of his turns cocky as he easily mouth fucks you into an orgasm, your clit fluttering fast as a hummingbird’s wings.

There’s only the briefest of discussions about who you want to fuck you first. You’re thinking it over - something tells you that Seungcheol is a ride you’ll need to work yourself up to - when says he doesn’t mind watching if you want Joshua to go first, and you quickly agree. Joshua’s not about to disagree, so you start to shift, to move away from Seungcheol, but he stops you with a strong arm around your waist.

“Stay here,” he murmurs, lips pressing against the side of your neck. “Wanna feel you fall apart.”

Seungcheol’s other hand has found your clit and is circling lightly. It has you lifting your hips shamelessly, openly seeking more pleasure. You whimper Seungcheol’s name with a shudder, then Joshua’s with surprise when his hands wrap around your thighs and push them up into your stomach.

“You don’t have to move, you’re perfect just like this,” Joshua informs you, and the hunger in his eyes makes you clench in anticipation. “Absolutely perfect.”

The head of his cock slides into you, just a little, before Joshua pulls back, then thrusts in again. He does this again, and again, going deeper, until your hips are flush. He moves with such gentleness at first, making sure you’re comfortable, that he’s not hurting you in any way. When he knows you’re ready, his hand cups your face, and he kisses you, tongue gliding into your mouth as he slowly strokes into your tight walls.

“‘Shua!” Somehow his name gets past your tongue and his. You reach for him, fingernails digging into his back, not to hurt, just to hold.

“Just like this,” he groans, the hand on your cheek drifting, pausing at your throat for a moment before brushing over your breast, palm rubbing your nipple roughly enough to elicit a loud whine. “That’s it. Let us hear you, gorgeous.”

“We hear you with him ,” Seungcheol says, casually confirming what you’ve always known. The rhythmic rolling of your hips into Seungcheol’s groin has your ass rubbing his hard cock. He grips your waist tighter, teeth grazing your earlobe. “I always thought I could make you scream louder.”

“Guess w-we’ll find out,” you stammer, words trembling into breathiness, because it’s hard to talk while Joshua has you bouncing on his cock. Seungcheol hums, placing his thumb under your chin, tilting your face to his for a kiss.

“Get back here,” Joshua murmurs, raspy voiced and flushed as he nudges his lips into your cheek, knocking Seungcheol away from your mouth. You giggle into Joshua's kiss, while Seungcheol mutters a few low threats against his roommate directly into your ear, all hot breath and low grumbles. A loud creak sounds, and you wonder if Seungcheol’s bed might not be able to handle all this.

Joshua breaks away to glance over your shoulder at Seungcheol. Whatever he sees makes him smirk, and he leans towards you again, lips brushing yours.

Seungcheol whispers, “Hold on,” and then he slides down the bed until he’s flat on his back. He brings you with him as Joshua straddles his thighs so he can follow, thrusting back into you without a moment’s delay. The swiftness of their movements makes you gasp, has you writhing in desperation against Seungcheol as he spreads your legs, holding them open for Joshua to fuck you harder, faster. You cry with every snap of his hips until it’s practically one long wail.

“Let it all out, gorgeous,” Joshua urges as he stares down at you from beneath sweaty bangs. He dips his thumb past your parted lips into your mouth, and you instinctively flick your tongue over it before he drags it down to your clit. “Let us hear that sweet voice.”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol huffs, humping wildly against your ass, his hands so hot on your thighs, keeping your knees spread open like butterfly wings. “Don’t be shy now.”

You’re not shy at all, sandwiched tightly between the two men, sobbing both their names as your wave crests. Joshua grunts and then he stills as he fills the condom he wears. There’s no sound from Seungcheol, no sudden movements or wetness on your back that lead you to believe he’s also climaxed, and this is confirmed when Joshua finally pulls out and you have the space to move.

“I said I didn’t mind waiting,” Seungcheol informs you as you eye his big cock again, noting how darkened it is, precum dripping down the shaft. You’re not quite sure you believe him, but it doesn’t matter. Whether or not it’s about to blow, you’re getting on that rocket.

But before you attempt that challenge -

“I think I need some water.”

Joshua merely hums. He’s flopped onto his back, and you can’t tell from this angle if his eyes are even open.

Seungcheol starts to rise. “I can grab you a b-”

“No, that’s okay,” you cut him off, placing your hands on his shoulders to pull him back to the bed. “I should, um, pee, too. Before we…”

Seungcheol hesitates, glancing at Joshua, and they exchange a mysterious look before he nods, returning to his spot on the bed. It’s a little chilly, so you grab Joshua’s hoodie and Seungcheol’s shorts and throw them on before darting out into the hallway and into the bathroom.

You down a glass of water at the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your reflection looks proud. It only took three attempts but you did it. In retrospect, it was surprisingly easy to manipulate your ex’s roommates into a threesome. You just had to play up your patheticness - maybe you should feel a little insulted that the guys bought it so easily, but who cares, it worked. All you need now is a photo or video, to send to Jeonghan the next time he texts. Then your plan will be complete.

Your hand is on Joshua’s door knob when you hear a loud creak. Jeonghan’s door opens.

“I thought I heard your voice.”

You jump, glaring at your ex. “Fuck, you scared me!”

“Having fun in there? Sounded like you were.”

Vaguely, you remember the loud noise you’d heard earlier while you were with Joshua and Seungcheol. That must’ve been Jeonghan getting home.

Jeonghan leans against his door frame, arms crossing while he takes in your outfit, recognition sweeping over his face. Anger simmers in your gut, stoked by the annoyance you feel at him for scaring you.

There goes your plan. Although, maybe this will be more fun….

“Yes, I was,” you reply with a grin. Jeonghan scowls, turning away. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business.”

He laughs sourly, pushing himself off the wall to crowd into your space, blocking Joshua’s door. “You tell yourself that, baby.” He brushes his finger along your cheek, and you shudder. “But it is my business. Because you’ll always be mine.”

It’s sick, how you want to agree, his sultry voice hypnotizing you like it always does. He drops his hand to your hip, pulling you to him as he kisses you. His lips demand that you yield to him. But not this time. This time, you’re going to resist.

“I haven’t been yours for a long time, Jeonghan. I just haven’t acted like it.” With two hands on his chest, you push Jeonghan away,

“Oh, right, but you are now?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Fucking my roommates to prove the point?”

You shrug. “Did it work?”

“It’s gonna take more than that to hurt me, baby,” he huffs, but when his eyes meet yours, you catch a brief glimpse of uncertainty beneath the smug expression he wears.

That’s all you need - that tiny moment of doubt. You’ve got him right where you want him. You step into Jeonghan’s embrace again and kiss him gently. It surprises him, shakes his composure a little, and you slip past him, reaching for Joshua’s door with a sweet smile.

“If you insist.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

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btsvt-bar · 1 year ago

Text

down bad

pairing ꩜ husband!mingyu x afab!reader

sequel to hurts so good, please read it first to understand their background/dynamics.

content/genre ꩜ haters to lovers, ceo/mean husband mingyu, smut (18+ mdni). they sort of have a fwb thing going on.

author's note ꩜

not proofread. comments are appreciated!

warnings under the cut!

warnings ꩜ smut, masturbation (m. and f. receiving), oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, corruption kink (it's not deeply explored), orgasm denial, creampie, dom-ish mingyu, dirty talk, cock warming, pet names (baby, dear husband/wife, my queen, pretty girl), mentions of threesome.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

You loved birthday parties, especially if they were children’s parties. It’s Saturday afternoon and you’re in the backyard of Wonwoo and Claire’s house to celebrate Yeji’s 4th birthday.

You’re sitting by the pool, your legs submerged to your knees. You see your husband playing around with his friends’ kids. He’s holding Minjoon—Seungcheol’s son—in his arms while he pretends to drink tea with Yeji and three of her school friends. Your heart skips a beat when he looks your way and smiles. It’s almost unfair how handsome he is, even dressed with pink fairy wings, a princess tiara and a pair of plastic earrings.

You sigh and turn your attention to the big form approaching. Joshua greets you with a smile. "Y/N, why are you here all alone?" he asks while sitting by your side.

"Just chilling." You offer a shy smile, a bit intimidated by his presence.

Joshua Hong is gorgeous. When you first met him, you were completely enamored with his face. And when you found out he was nice and friendly, you kinda developed a crush on him. Now, a few years later, you still feel intimidated whenever he’s around.

You take in his visuals, from his dark hair pushed back, featuring his perfect face, to the white button up shirt that allowed you to see a bit of his chest, to his light brown cargo shorts that showcased his legs perfectly. He carried an amused smile on his lips, as usual.

"I’m glad you joined me, though."

"Well, all of my friends are talking about parenting and I can’t listen to another minute of tips on how to change a diaper." Joshua states and you laugh lightly.

"I know the feeling very well." You throw him an empathetic look. "So… how was your trip to Paris? Mingyu mentioned you went there for a convention or something?"

Shua stares into the water, he’s watching your feet move around. "Yeah, for this Luxury Hotels thing. My dad’s trying to expand the franchise and I went to meet some European investors."

"Seems a bit boring." You blurt out and Joshua chuckles, agreeing promptly.

"It is. But it’s work so it’s not meant to be fun."

"True. But Paris is a great city with amazing food and museums."

"Maybe we should go together next time." Joshua comments and your movements freeze instantly. Realizing what he said, he adds "With everyone else, I mean! Like a group trip."

The mischievous gleam in his eyes makes you feel warm inside. Joshua’s flirting, you’re not dumb. And he’s not either, he knows the truth about your situationship with Mingyu.

"That would be nice." Your voice is soft and shaky. He barely said anything and you’re freaking out inside, which leads you to think that maybe you have a big crush on him.

"Hey! You two!" You hear Mingyu’s voice calling. "Let’s sing happy birthday and cut the cake."

Joshua gets up and extends his hands to help you. His palms feel soft under your fingertips, and you feel your insides twist. "C’mon, Y/N. Your husband’s waiting." He flashes a knowing smile and walks away, leaving you too stunned to follow.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

It’s been a year since you and Mingyu made peace and started being friends. You agreed to be friends with benefits and to be exclusive, since you couldn’t risk someone assuming one of you was cheating. So you two reaped the benefits like dates, physical touching and, of course, sex, but didn’t really work on getting romantically involved. Of course that doesn’t mean that both of you didn’t develop some feelings, because you did. But, for now, you played husband and wife and everything was good.

But now, thinking about the way Joshua flirted with you, you wished you could have him. And your brain, always being one to come up with naughty ideas, had the best solution to your problem.

"Gyu?" You call your husband softly. You’re both lying on your shared bed watching TV, his head on your chest and his big hand caressing your belly.

"Hm?" He responds without looking away from the big screen.

"Remember that one time we talked about having a threesome, and I said I didn’t have a guy option?" Your words sparked his interest, so the man got up on his elbows to look at you. "I have a name now…"

Mingyu looks curiously at you. He has an idea of who, but he wants you to say the name. "Who?"

You bite your lower lip, feeling a bit nervous. "Joshua."

Your husband smirks. He knew it. "You have the hots for Shua hyung, dear wife?"

"So what if I do?" You pout. "He’s single and he seems to know about us."

Mingyu scrunches his nose. "I accidentally told him last time we went out for a drink." He reveals with a sheepish smile. "He’s reliable, don’t worry."

"Well, one more reason to do it with him." You say excitedly, your mind already picturing the things you would to do Joshua.

"I don’t want to have a threesome anymore." Your husband states in a quiet voice.

When you look at him, he’s staring down at his hand that’s resting on your hips. He looks a bit annoyed. "What? Are you jealous?" You chuckle, fishing for an answer.

"Not at all." He lies, rolling his eyes to add to the dramatics. "It’s just not on my kink list."

His words make you realize that he’s never once told you about his kinks. In the past year, you’ve talked a few times about it. And Mingyu’s been really open to exploring them, always being so generous and giving you new mind blowing sex experiences each time.

"So what’s on your kink list?" You ask with a sly smile, liking the direction of the conversation.

Mingyu lets his body fall on the bed, hiding his face. He shakes his head, indicating he’s not talking.

"Tell me!" You insist, shaking his arms. "I told you all of mine, but you never told me yours. Besides angry sex, of course."

"Never mind. It’s stupid."

You grab his chin to make him look at you. His cheeks have a pink hue, and he’s scrunching his nose. "Please baby, tell me."

Mingyu sighs, giving in to your soft plead. "It’s not actually a kink, but maaaaybe I’ve been thinking about fucking you in a wedding dress. Since our wedding night never happened."

The air gets caught up in your lungs. The idea of Mingyu having his way with you in a sort of reenactment of your wedding day makes your core burn and your stomach twist and turn.

"I like that idea." You give him a quick kiss before letting go of his face. "What else?"

"I wanted to try corruption kink." He looks away, his face burning even more. It’s funny how cute he looks while revealing his sexual fantasies.

"We can totally try it too." You agree, even if he didn’t actually ask. "But only if you look at me and give me another kiss."

Mingyu chuckles and goes in for the kiss. You touch lips for a few seconds before pulling away.

"Let’s sleep, I’m beaten."

"Not easy being uncle of the year, huh?" You taunt him. "You looked cute dressed up as a fairy."

"The things I do for my goddaughter." He sighs. You both knew fully well he enjoyed playing with the kids, but you let his little lie slide. "Good night, dear wife."

"Good night, dear husband." You allow him to engulf you in a warm hug before slipping into unconsciousness.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

A couple weeks later, you and Mingyu go out to celebrate your 5th anniversary. It’s the first one you’re going to celebrate, now that you’re on good terms. For this reason, you prepared a little surprise for Mingyu, wanting to spice things up a bit.

After your conversation about his kinks, you decided you needed a special occasion to try them, and what’s more special than the first anniversary you celebrate?

So you went out with Gwen and she helped you pick out a nice wedding dress. You settled for a sparkly white satin rhinestone strap mini dress that really compliments your boobs and legs. You’re sure he’s going to lose it when he sees you.

Mingyu also planned a surprise: he made a reservation for an overnight stay in a luxurious hotel room, which had the biggest bed you’ve ever seen.

You arrive after having dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant. Mingyu has a goofy smile, maybe because you both had a couple drinks, maybe because he is excited for the night.

There’s a small table in your room with two flutes and a bottle of champagne waiting. Mingyu pops it open and you toast. You take a sip and decide it’s time to put on your dress.

"Wait here, I have a surprise."

While you rush to the big bathroom to get changed, Mingyu takes off his blazer. He’s wearing a deep purple shirt that compliments his skin, and perfectly tailored dress pants. His hands are shaking in anticipation, because he has another surprise for you before the night ends.

Meanwhile, you put on your dress pretty quickly—you chose one that you’re able to zip up yourself. You pull the white lace garter up your leg, adding a touch of sensuality. To finish off, you place the short veil on your head. Taking a quick glance in the mirror, you decide you look perfect. You slip back into your white heels and open the bathroom door.

Mingyu’s looking out the window, his champagne glass nearly empty. You approach him slowly and cover his eyes with your hands. "Guess who?"

"Hm… I have a feeling it’s my wife. Not sure though." He joined in with a laugh.

You place your hands on his shoulder and turn him around, revealing your new outfit. His jaw drops when he sees you.

"Y/N, what is this?" His breathing is quick and you can see he’s starting to malfunction.

"Well, I kept thinking about how we never had a wedding night." You bite your lower lip, inching closer to him. "And I figured tonight would be a good one to make up for lost time. Don’t you agree?"

Mingyu just stares, still in shock. He takes in your form, how your boobs look delicious in your dress, the way the fabric hugs your waist, and how you look fucking angelic while asking him to fuck you. "Shit, you can’t do this to me." He groans in a low, deep tone.

You can see he already has a tent in his pants. Mingyu looks flushed, and you haven’t even touched him yet.

"How about you lie down, dear husband?" You say in a provocative tone. "You look a little pale, let me take care of you."

The man nearly runs to the bed. He gets comfortable and you get on top of him. Your core is starting to grow hot, seeing how much he wants you.

Without giving it a second thought, pull out his pants along with his boxers. His cock stands hard and leaking pre cum, which makes your mouth water at the sight.

Before leaving the house, you decided you want to have a night to remember. And you hold on to that determination when you keep pushing Mingyu’s buttons.

"I want to help, but I don’t know how…" you take his cock in your hand and pump it slowly. He shudders at the stimulation. "Can you teach me how to do it, dear husband?" Your saccharine voice makes something twist inside of Mingyu. He takes in your doe eyes and semi innocent smile, quickly catching on what you’re doing. The man chuckles in pleasant disbelief, he knows he’s in for a treat.

"My pretty girl needs guidance?" His big hand starts to guide yours as you masturbate him. You’re sitting on his beefy thighs and you can feel him trembling as you increase the speed of your movements. Mingyu’s eyes are closed and his mouth slightly parted, allowing some sighs to fall off easily.

You feel him twitching under your palm and his hand holds your wrist to stop you. "That’s enough, baby." His voice is breathy and it makes you happy to see how much you affect him.

"Can you do something else for me?" Mingyu asks. You nod and bat your eyelashes at him. "I need you to put your mouth around it."

You feign shock, widening your eyes and slightly gaping your mouth. Mingyu sits up a bit, and kisses you softly while kneading your thighs. "I'll help through it, pretty girl".

You slide down the bed and inch closer to his throbbing cock. "Open your mouth." Mingyu instructs and you play along.

His heavy hand grabs the back of your head and guides you to start sucking him off. He loves the wet and warm feeling of your tongue on his cock, it makes the fire in his abdomen burn hotter and hotter with each passing second.

Mingyu starts to feel hot and unbuttons his shirt, his hand leaving your to bob your head on your own for a few seconds. "You're so good at this, baby." He groans deeply and you feel arousal pool on your lace panties, his reactions turning you on even more.

When he feels he's about to cum, Mingyu pulls you away. You take a good look at your husband, taking in they way his toned chest glistened because of the thin layer of sweat. He takes off his shirt, laying bare beneath you. He looks beautiful and your heart races.

You sigh and move closer, needing to feel his lips on yours. You share a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing in sync. Mingyu guides your hips and you grind against him, his big hands giving occasional slaps on your ass.

By now, you're already soaking wet and desperate for his cock. You need Mingyu and you need him now. "Gyu, I need you".

"Need me to do what, baby?"

Of course he wasn't going to make it easy for you. You take his hand and guide it to your dripping cunt, acting shy. Mingyu runs his fingers on your lace panties and grunts when he feels just how wet you are.

Mingyu decides to play nice and slips his fingers in your panties. He glides his fingers easily, collecting your wetness while rubbing your lower lips. His middle finger settles in your clit and he circles it slowly, sending electric waves through your body.

Your head feels heavy with lust, so you let it fall on his shoulder. He keeps masturbating you until you feel on edge. When he senses you're about to cum, he stops his ministrations, earning a frustrated cry from you.

"I-I was so close" you complain with a pout. Mingyu laughs and pecks your puckered up lips.

"I promise I'm going to make you feel even better."

Mingyu reaches for the zipper on your back and undoes it in a way to expose your boobs. He grabs them and runs his thumbs on your nipples. "So perfect for me, they fit perfectly in my hands."

He attaches his lips to your right nipple and keep massaging the other. You go back to rutting each other like animals on heat. You pull his hair and let you head fall back, the familiar burning sensation running through your veins.

Mingyu decides he's had enough, so he manhandles you so you're on all fours. He stands tall behind you, admiring your exposed ass and covered cunt. Slowly, he slides your panties down your legs. You shake in anticipation.

"My beautiful wife..." he sighs. "You're going to be good to me, aren't you?" You agree quickly. "I can't wait to ruin you. To fill you up with my seed and get you pregnant." You both moan in unison.

Your heart is racing with his words. God, you'd let him do anything to you. Anything. "Please, do it."

Mingyu's cock throbs with your request. He aligns himself with your whole and sinks in slowly. You lose strength and bend your arms, exposing your ass even more. Mingyu grabs your waist to support you in place, even if his own legs were trembling with pent up desire.

He slides in and out of you, catching up speed until his unrelenting tempo makes the bed shake and hit the wall. His cock massages your inner walls in the most perfect way, hitting all the right places to put you in a lustful frenzy.

You're sure you're moaning and whining, but your heart pumps so loudly in your ears that you don't quite hear it. But Mingyu does, and it only spurs him on. He's lost in your heat, in the way you clench around him. Plus, you in that fucking wedding dress... every time his eyes glimpse at the sheer white fabric, he swears his cock gets even harder.

Mingyu slows down and pulls out of you. You let out a whimper at the loss, feeling really worked up and frustrated.

The man sits down again and pulls you on his lap, and you're so wet you sink down on him with ease. You start to ride him, your boobs bouncing deliciously for Mingyu to see.

His eyes focus on the place where you two connect. Your cunt swallows his big cock beautifully. "You're taking me so well, pretty girl".

You place your hands on his chest for support, your short nails sinking on his skin and leaving small crescent marks. "I'm close."

Mingyu snaps his hips up to meet yours, reaching even deeper within you. It only takes a few slides for you to cum.

You feel your spirit being lifted from your body and you tremble, falling into Mingyu. He places two fingers on your clit and circles it to intensify your pleasure. You're so out of it you don't even notice when Mingyu flips you both over and starts to rail you missionary, chasing after his own high.

"Fill me up, dear husband" You sigh in his ear and Mingyu shivers. "Make my pussy full of your warm cum. Give me your babies".

That's enough for Mingyu to lose it and cum with a deep moan. He shivers and start to unload inside of you, his white milk covering your abused walls. His hips slow down and he stills inside of you.

Once again, he flips you both over, and you stay on top of him again, his cock still inside of you. You kiss his neck and rub your hands on his arms while you wait for him to come down. Mingyu grabs your ass, and you know he's partially recovered. So you sit up again, still cock warming him.

When he looks up at you, you can see the admiration in his eyes. Mingyu smiles beautifully, his canines showing up and his orbs shining with something else you can't quite identify.

"I have to ask you something" He says and you smile, indicating he can keep talking. "But I have to get something first... It pains me, but I need you to slip off".

Even full of his cum, you feel empty when Mingyu slides off. The dress you're wearing is all bunched up and wet, so you take it off and throw it on the floor.

"Can you grab my panties?" You ask your husband and he gets one from your bag. He also brings a wet towel from the bathroom and cleans you up before you slide in your fresh panties. When you're both semi-clean and with underwear on, you slide into the fresh Egyptian cotton sheets.

"What did you want to ask me?" You question, feeling a bit anxious.

Mingyu bites his lower lips. He's feeling shy and self-conscious, but he musters the courage to say what he wants. "Well, this night is about celebrating our wedding, right?" You agree. "This past year's been amazing, and I really liked getting to know you better".

"Me too, Gyu" You smile, your heart beating faster.

"I know we agreed to being friends with benefits, but I realized I can't keep going like that." You have a big question mark in your eyes and Mingyu can see it, so he hurries to complete his line of thought. "I can't be friends because I'm down bad. I love you, Y/N. I never expected this to happen, but I do."

You smile and jump him. Your heart's beating like crazy and you're completely at a loss for words. "I love you too, Gyu."

You both kiss in such a soft way, it makes your heart flutter.

Mingyu's smiling widely, once again showing his canines you adore so much. "Well, I think I can ask you what I wanted then".

He pulls a black box from under the pillow, one you didn't even see him placing there. He opens the box and there lies the most beautiful engagement ring. You never really got engaged, since you hated each other back then.

Mingyu takes the ring. "I kept thinking about how I never asked you to marry me. So, will you be my queen? Will you marry me, for real this time?"

"Yes! Yes, yes... God yes!" He places the ring on your finger and you kiss again, this time with more passion.

"My queen" He places a kiss on your cheek, sighing with a dreamy smile. "We're gonna be so happy, I promise".

"I know we will, baby. I'm gonna give my best for it to happen, too".

Then, Mingyu gets up and fills another glass of champagne for you to toast your engagement. You keep talking and exchanging kisses until late hours. You're down bad, but you're sure you don't want to get up.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

m.list ♡

#mingyu smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fanfic #seventeen hard hours #mingyu hard hours #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenarios #anon request #my works

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defmaybe · 7 months ago

Text

[AER-698] My Boss(?) Loves My Ass So Much She Puts Her Tongue on It, Then She Fucks Me in the Ass Like I’m Her Cockslut and Make Me Cum!

aespa’s Uchinaga Aeri/Giselle x Male Reader

1.2k words

Sequel to Excel

“G–Giselle, nghh.”

“Shh, call me Aeri, baby. I won’t bite you–and your ass.”

A giggle leaves Aeri’s lips just before her tongue dives right back onto your asshole, leaving you tensed up in the sensations.

Again, you’re caught in this “predicament” of having your collar tugged by someone while walking in the SM building’s hallway—happens to be Aeri this time.

Should’ve been more careful.

Her hands grip the outer of your thighs ever so tightly, locking your willing, lithe body in place. Her dexterous flesh finds its rhythm in lapping up your rear, having your cock leaking droplets of precum on the tile floor. She doesn’t taste the insides of your body yet, but you’re quite sure that she won’t stop on the outside.

“You know–wait, Yizhuo would probably have told you this, our little rankings, haven’t she?”

“Y–Yes, yes, Aeri. I–I got the best ass for four years straight.” You aren’t certain whether to be proud of it, but it gets you here, bent over a desk to have your asshole licked.

“Yeah, you know, it’s not just the ass. There’s legs, abs, face, and you didn’t do bad in other categories!” she stops the tongue action, but still playing with the rim of your tightness with her deft fingers. The pleasure is still there.

“T–Thanks, hgngnn, Aeri.”

“Anyways, yeah, I’ll go back to eating your ass now.” Aeri chuckles, before placing her tongue on you again, eliciting an inaudible sound from you.

She lets out a quiet, satisfied moan with each swipe of her flesh. How can she be so good at eating ass? God, this woman, she’s making you struggle to stand upright. You would’ve fallen to the ground a long time ago if it’s not for this poor wooden desk.

You swear that your moans keep getting higher and higher with each lick of hers. She does it so, so well, fuck.

And as if she can listen to your body, she starts to invade your butthole—piercing her tongue into your body every two or three swipes. The shocks become stronger now, any contact with your cock and you’ll cum.

“Hmm, baby boy, you taste good,” Aeri says. You can feel your puckered hole clenching in front of her face. You can feel her warm breath on your cheeks. And you can feel the tightening of her hold on your legs. She want you so, so fucking bad.

“T–Thanks, nnhh, A–Aeri, again.” You just can’t form your thoughts with the waves and waves of pleasure surging through you now.

And she stops.

“W–What?” you utter, glancing back to catch her determined eyes.

“Oh, baby boy, my poor baby boy. Just wait a second, okay?” Aeri says with her doe eyes, her hands searching for something within her tote bag.

As she brings the object out, the size of it makes you gawk—a six-inch black strap-on. To be honest, the expectation of it being a dildo plowing your slutty ass isn’t exactly too far. But with the size of it, you won’t be able to walk home properly today.

“A–Aeri? I–I don’t think I–”

“Shhh, baby boy, let me fuck your ass, alright? Be a good boy for me~” Aeri speaks as she’s harnessing the plastic phallus on her waist.

You nod.

She paints lube on her shaft, and she manages to snuck a finger into your tightness to lather her target.

And so it begins.

She slowly pushes her cock into you. The coldness of the lube makes you shiver, and how her length enters your pliant body. You keep your mouth tight shut, unable to make any sound out of this otherworldly sensation. God, she’s fully dominating you.

“C’mon, make some noise, baby.”

And that’s when you let go.

You let out the loudest moan of your life at her command.

“Fuck, ngnghhn, Aeri.”

Her first filling of your snug hole brims with care—the ridges of her cock grazing your inner walls, the gentle hold of her hands on your slutty, slim waist.

“God, you’re well worth the wait, baby boy.”

The tip of her rod sears into your body up to your prostate, sending waves and waves of indescribable ecstasy through your frame. You’re such a slut for her.

“That’s it, baby boy. Take me inside you.”

And with an inch more, she’s buried inside you to the hilt. The edge of her hardness is poking your stomach. It hurts, but it’s also fucking satisfying.

“I wish I could stay like this forever, but unfortunately–” she pulls herself back, leaving some space inside you once again. “–I don’t have all day.”

And she thrusts back into your ass, violently.

“D–Daddy!”

Fuck, where does the moniker come from?

“Yes, yes, moan for me, baby girl. Be my good girl.”

She doesn’t let the slow pace linger for too long, as she starts to up her ante. Any leftovers of the initial gentleness are now replaced by the roughness of her cock ramming into your ass, into your prostate. Each stroke sends you closer and closer to ecstasy.

“Fuck, I wish I could stay soft. But god, fuck, I now know why Yizhuo was smiling that whole damn day.” Her grip on your waist—that slutty, slutty waist—becomes tighter. “Because of a slut like you, baby girl.”

“Ngnh, d–daddy.” You’ve submitted to Yizhuo before, but this is on another level. “Daddy, please use me like your slut. I–I’m your cockslut!”

“Good fucking girl.” And she gives your ass a slap, fuck, leaving you in such pleasurable pain.

Wet squelching sounds vibrate through the room. Aeri is fucking your ass relentlessly. She’s not leaving any room for your breathing. Her plastic phallus hits your prostate again, and again, and again. You’re her fucking dirty cockslut—made to be used and abused.

With each contact, you can feel your release coming in close. It’s building up in your loins, that familiar feeling. The echoing of each “daddy” doesn’t help either, only serves to declare your full submission for Aeri.

“Daddy, I–I’m gonna cum.”

“Fucking cum then, you useless cocksleeve. Cum on the floor!”

It doesn’t take many thrusts into your rearhole for you to lose your hold. Your cock shoots ropes and ropes of cum onto the white tile floor. She doesn’t relent, still ramming her own length into your prostate, so eager to squeeze every drop out of you.

Your cock twitches violently, each spurt descends in its intensity. Still, all of them send the same message: you’re Uchinaga Aeri’s cockslut.

“Yes, just like that, you fucking bitch.” She gives your ass a slap once again. That’s going to leave a mark.

Eventually, you come down from your high, all panting, desperate for air. You’re trying your best to keep hold of the table.

“F–Fuck, that was fun,” Aeri says, also panting.

“Nhgn.”

“C’mon, baby, let’s get some sleep.” And Aeri helps you walking towards the bedroom upstairs, being fucked in the ass and all. You can barely walk.

As you reach her room, she places you into her bed. Before tucking you in, letting you rest after one of the best sex you’ve ever had.

“Good night, baby boy.”

–

#giselle #giselle smut #giselle x reader #aespa #aespa smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader #male reader smut

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eliasmelody · 3 months ago

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Love Beneath the Depths

(part 1)

Xavier x f!reader

Sequel to Love Beyond the Surface (part 1)

Words: 3220 Warning: hint of suicide, slow burn, reader is not MC, parallel universe(isekai), grammar & spelling

INTRO: Your fingers lingered on the book as you handed it, the soft glance you gave without meaning to. Just this time, can he borrow your heart… for a little while?

✦.───────── ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ───────── .✦

You mutter a quiet curse under your breath as you bend down to pick up the scattered books, carefully arranging them back onto the shelf.

The familiar scent of aged paper and ink surrounds you, but it does little to calm the frustration bubbling inside.

Why is she here?

Your fingers pause for a brief moment as your gaze shifts toward the girl standing just a few feet away. Or should you call her the MC? The main character of this whole ordeal. She shouldn’t be here, at least, not in the library, not during your shift.

Of all the times she could have chosen to appear, why now?

You shrink back, pressing yourself against the bookshelf. Maybe if you stay perfectly still, she won’t notice you. You are just a background character, a random human in the grand narrative of her life. Nothing more, nothing less.

I am an NPC. I am just an NPC. I am not here.

You repeat the mantra in your head like a desperate prayer, silently urging the universe to redirect her attention elsewhere.

Time stretches unbearably, turning seconds into minutes, maybe even hours in your mind. And then, finally, she starts walking away.

You exhale sharply, relief washing over you like a cool breeze. Please leave. Please leave.

But then recognition flickers across her face. Her lips part, and then…

"Xavier?"

You groan, already feeling a headache forming. Without thinking, you grab the nearest book and lightly bump your forehead against it, as if that could somehow knock this entire situation out of existence.

"Oh, it's you."

Xavier’s voice is casual, but there’s a slight hesitation, a pause just long enough to make your stomach twist. You watch as his gaze flickers around the library, scanning the shelves, the tables, the spaces between them. Searching.

For what?

For who?

Panic grips you before logic can. Without thinking, you drop into a crouch and scramble beneath the nearest table, pressing yourself into the shadows like your life depends on it.

From your hiding spot under the table, you can hear her voice light up with excitement the moment she sees him. She starts talking fast, animated, rambling about something you can’t quite make out.

Xavier, on the other hand, replies in short, clipped responses. His voice is steady, neutral, maybe even a little disinterested.

That’s… weird.

This is the moment where he’s supposed to be captivated by her every word, yet, right now, he looks almost… distracted. And then, just for a second, his eyes flicker away from her to the side, toward the table.

Your stomach drops.

He couldn’t be looking for you… right? There’s no reason, no logical reason.

You watch as his gaze lingers for a moment too long, scanning the shelves, the tables, your hiding spot. Your pulse pounds in your ears as you press yourself tighter against the wooden legs of the table.

Meanwhile, she’s still talking, completely oblivious. You can’t even focus on her words anymore. He shifts. Take a step. But just as he moves, she tugs at his sleeve, dragging his attention back to her.

"Hey, are you even listening?" The girl huffs.

Xavier blinks, as if snapped out of a daze. "Yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?"

You hold your breath, waiting, hoping.

She sighs. "We should get going." Her voice is light and casual.

Footsteps shuffle against the library floor, and for a moment, you think it's over. They're leaving. You're safe… for now.

────── ♡ ──────

The rhythmic tapping of keys and the quiet hum of the library fill the air as you scan books at the checkout desk, barely looking up as the next person steps forward.

"Just put your books here." You say, reaching for the scanner.

A familiar voice responds, softer than usual. "Okay…"

Your fingers pause for the briefest moment before you force yourself to look up.

Shjt–

Stay calm. Stay calm. He won’t recognize me… right? Please don’t recognize me.

Xavier stands before you, shifting his weight slightly, a few books stacked in his arms. But that’s not what catches your attention. It’s the faint bruise along his cheekbone. It’s subtle, but up close, the lighting highlights the uneven coloration, just enough to make it noticeable.

You narrow your eyes slightly. "…What happens to your face–" Your hands fly up, covering your mouth. Idiot. You were supposed to avoid drawing attention.

He blinks, as if caught off guard by your question. Then he lifts a hand, fingers brushing absently against the bruise before dropping them. "This? It’s nothing."

You don’t respond right away. Just stare at him.

Xavier exhales, shifting the books in his arms. "Just ran into some trouble, that’s all." His voice is casual, too dismissive.

You don’t take the bait. Instead, you scan the book in his hand and slide it back toward him. "Did you at least put something on it?"

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. Then a low chuckle. Not his usual sharp, teasing kind. It’s softer, almost amused. "Are you worried about me?"

You roll your eyes and push the next book through the scanner. "Forget I asked."

"Too late." His voice is quieter now, a little too pleased.

You huff, choosing to ignore him as you finish scanning his books.

────── ♡ ──────

The library is quiet, the steady rhythm of shelving books filling the air. You barely glance up until you catch movement from the corner of your eye.

Xavier stands in front of a tall bookshelf, reaching for a book just out of grasp. His fingers brush the spine, but he hesitates, his arm stiff, a faint wince crossing his face before he tries again.

You sigh and step over. "Here." Easily, you pull the book down and hand it to him.

Xavier blinks, as if surprised you even noticed, then takes it. "…Thanks."

You watch him for a second. "You shouldn’t be reaching like that if you’re hurt."

Silence…

"… You work here often?" He asks, shifting slightly, like he’s trying to steer the conversation into something more natural.

"Just part-time." You reply carefully.

"Oh." His grip tightens a fraction more, then loosens again, as if he’s catching himself. "So you’re not always here."

"That’s kind of how part-time works." You say dryly, hoping to cut this conversation short.

But instead of taking the hint, he exhales softly, almost like that wasn’t the answer he wanted. "Right."

For a moment, neither of you speak. You should walk away. You should.

"You turned me down pretty fast last time."

Your stomach twists slightly.

"Because you had the wrong person."

"I know." His voice is calm, even. "I just thought..." He stops himself, shaking his head slightly. "Never mind."

A strange tightness coils in your chest. You don’t know why, but the way he says that, like something fragile, makes you uneasy.

────── ♡ ──────

You can still remember, the first time you two met, Xavier behaved more… different.

He looked completely shocked, standing in the middle of the street like he had just seen a ghost. You hadn’t even realized he was nearby at first. If you had, you would have taken a different path, avoiding him entirely.

Back then, you had been terrified. Not just because he had seen you, but because you didn’t know what he knew. Did he know you weren’t supposed to be here? That you weren’t from this world?

The thought alone had sent a chill down your spine. You had feared that he might follow you, that he would demand answers… answers you didn’t have.

You had no idea how he would react.

You steal a glance at him from across the library, pretending to be busy stacking books.

He’s here. Again.

Ever since that encounter, Xavier has started coming around more often. Too often. You don’t know if it’s a coincidence or if he’s deliberately showing up, but either way, it’s unfortunate for you.

Because now, you have a new problem.

There is no way you can keep working here, not when the risk of him figuring out your secret keeps growing by the day. If he hasn’t already started piecing things together, it’s only a matter of time.

Which means you need a new job.

And more importantly, you need to cut him off.

You’ve tried to brush it off, to tell yourself you’re just being paranoid, but the facts won’t let you.. Based on everything you’ve learned from the game… Xavier doesn’t react well to things he can’t explain. And you’re that something.

All you want is to go unnoticed, to stay out of his sight. Even though you love him, his story, his character, the way he was written to be compelling and complex. As a character, he was fascinating. But in reality? In your reality? He was dangerous.

Who knows?

Maybe one day, instead of just appearing in the library, he’ll show up somewhere worse. Like your apartment. Probably with a sword in his hand and your head on the ground.

And that? That’s not a risk you’re willing to take.

Your fingers hover over the small stone hidden in your pocket, its smooth surface unnervingly cool against your skin. You’ve only ever known of the protocore in standard colors, you don't know why this one turn black.

A cold shiver runs down your spine as you think back to that day. It happened in your first week here, when you're still not familiar with the traffic.

The truck had been coming straight for you, too fast, too close. You remember the blinding headlights, the deafening screech of tires, the sheer terror of knowing you couldn’t move in time.

And then—nothing.

The truck had passed right through you, like you weren’t even there. Like you were just a ghost.

You never figured out what happened that day or what that stone did. And you never wanted to find out.

Because if you did… It would mean admitting that something was deeply wrong with your presence here.

You sigh, pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind. Dwelling on them won’t help.

────── ♡ ──────

"Okay… and you’re good to go." You slide the book across the counter, offering a polite nod.

But the man on the other side doesn’t move. He just… stares at you.

Your fingers tighten slightly around the scanner. "… You need something else sir?"

He keeps staring. A slow, creeping smirk tugs at his lips.

Is he… flirting?

You honestly can’t tell. If he is, it’s bad. Like, uncomfortably bad. The kind of bad that makes you want to disappear under the desk and pretend this interaction never happened.

Your grip tightens on the scanner as you force a strained smile. "…Do you need anything else?"

The man tilts his head slightly, eyes still locked onto you. "Nah," he drawls, amusement lacing his tone. "Just… taking my time."

Oh, great. I love when customers do that.

You resist the urge to groan. "Well then can you please take your time somewhere else." You say, keeping your voice perfectly polite.

The man doesn’t leave. Of course he doesn’t.

Instead, he just stands there, staring at you like you’re some kind of puzzle he’s trying to figure out. His smirk lingers, his posture relaxed but unnervingly present.

You grip the edge of the counter, debating whether to just pretend he doesn’t exist.

A shadow falls over your desk.

"Is there a problem here?"

Xavier’s voice is casual, but there’s an underlying edge to it, subtle, sharp. You blink, barely processing his sudden appearance. When did he even get here?

The man glances at him, and for the first time, his smirk falters just a little. "Nah, no problem." He says, though his tone isn’t as confident as before.

Xavier doesn’t respond right away. He just stares, his expression unreadable, his presence somehow making the air feel heavier.

The man shifts uncomfortably. Then, finally, finally, he mutters something under his breath, turns on his heel, and walks away.

You let out a slow breath, shoulders relaxing slightly. You narrow your eyes at him next. Suspicious.

"You’re here a lot." You point out. "Don’t you have something better to do?"

He tilts his head slightly, considering. "Not really."

Great.

You sigh, rubbing your temple. "Look, thanks for the whole 'intimidating presence thing', but I’m fine. You don’t have to keep showing up here like some…" You wave a hand vaguely. " …library cryptid."

Xavier raises an eyebrow. "Library cryptid?"

"You know what I mean." You huff. "If you’re just here to loiter, I’m going to have to ask you to check out a book or leave."

For a moment, he just watches you, unreadable as ever. Then, he reaches for a book from a nearby shelf.

You blink as he sets it on the counter.

"…?"

"You said I had to check something out," He says smoothly. "I’m just following the rules."

You glance at the book’s cover. The Beginner’s Guide to Cooking.

Slowly, you lift your gaze back to him, deadpan. "Seriously?"

Xavier meets your eyes, completely unfazed. "What? I’m expanding my interests."

You sigh and scan the book, going through the motions. "Remember to return it on time," you say, sliding it across the counter.

Xavier reaches for it, but then he pauses.

Your brows furrow slightly, and you glance up at him, only to catch his gaze locked onto your wrist.

More specifically… the faint, almost unreal lines tracing along your skin.

Your stomach drops.

Oh no.

You turn pale, heart lurching as you realize what he’s seeing. In your rush today, had you forgotten to cover it?

Quickly, you set the book down on the table beside him and pull your hand back, tucking it out of sight. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you force your voice to stay steady. "Something wrong?"

Xavier’s expression flickers, too fast to read. Then, he looks up, meeting your eyes.

"…No." He says smoothly, picking up the book. "Nothing at all."

You watch as he picks up the book, his movements smooth, controlled, too controlled. Then, he simply says. "See you around." and walks away. ────── ♡ ────── The next morning, you call in sick.

And the day after that.

A full week passes, and you still haven’t set foot in the library. You know you’re being paranoid. Xavier hasn’t done anything, hasn’t confronted you.

But the memory of his eyes lingering on your wrist, that brief pause, it’s enough to keep you away.

So you stay holed up in your apartment, staring at the black protocore on your desk, fingers hovering over it but never quite touching. You should be figuring out a new job, making a plan, doing something.

Lincoln City isn’t exactly kind to people without proper documentation.

And by people, you mean you.

Most jobs require some kind of passport, ID, or legal paperwork, things you, an entity from another world, very much do not have.

Yay…

So, here you are, scanning every job advertisement you can find. Which, as it turns out, isn’t much.

You sigh, rubbing your temple. Looks like it’s going to be another long week of avoiding certain people and figuring out how to survive in a world that doesn’t think you exist.

────── ♡ ────── "He's looking for you."

You blink, frowning at your colleague. "What?"

The words catch you off guard. You were just here to formally quit your library job… politely, of course. Luckily, the woman in charge is reasonable, not the type to make a fuss.

Your supervisor barely glances up from her computer, fingers still tapping at the keyboard. "That guy. Xavier, was it?" She tilts her head slightly. "He’s been asking about you. Came by a few times this week."

Your stomach twists.

You keep your expression neutral, though your mind is already racing. Why? What does he want?

"…What did you tell him?" you ask carefully.

She shrugs. "Just that you’ve been out sick. He didn’t ask much else, but he didn’t look convinced either." She finally looks up, raising an eyebrow. "You in some kind of trouble?"

You force a laugh. "No, nothing like that."

She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she doesn’t push. "Well, if you're here to quit, just sign this, and you’re good to go."

You nod, taking the paper with slightly unsteady hands.

Xavier is looking for you.

"The library gets more crowded when he's here." Your supervisor adds idly, tapping at her keyboard. "Those loud girls who can't keep their gossip to themselves… it's unbearable."

Of course, he is handsome, after all. You suppose it was only a matter of time before people started hovering around him like moths to a flame.

Not my problem anymore.

────── ♡ ────── Xavier leans back in his chair, staring blankly at the paperwork spread across his desk. It’s not that he can’t focus, he just doesn’t see the point. The words blur together, the numbers meaningless.

"Didn’t you mess up your shoulder last week?""

The voice pulls him out of his thoughts. His colleague stands in the doorway, arms crossed, one brow raised.

Xavier barely reacts. He shifts slightly, rolling his shoulder with ease. Right. That.

"Heals fast." He mutters, flipping a page in the report.

"Uh-huh." There’s skepticism in the tone. "Looked pretty bad to me. Thought you were gonna need a sling."

Xavier exhales, resisting the urge to rub his temple. He should’ve expected this. He had leaned into the whole thing just enough, winced at the right moments, let his grip falter slightly, made sure she noticed. And she did. She had looked at him. Talked to him.

But now she is gone. And pretending didn’t matter anymore.

"You think too much." Xavier says simply, turning his attention back to the paperwork.

A scoff. "Sure. And you don’t think enough." His colleague lingers for a second before stepping away.

His jaw tightens. His gaze flicks toward the stack of books on the edge of his desk, the ones he never actually needed, just an excuse to be there. Some had been recommended by her, offhand suggestions he pretended not to care about at the time.

He hopes she’s okay.

That mark on her wrist… He hadn’t meant to notice it. It was only a fleeting glimpse when she pulled her hand away, but the image stuck with him. The raw redness of irritated skin, the faint lines of something beneath it. Some new. Some old.

The thought doesn’t sit well with him. It lingers, festering, gnawing at the edges of his mind.

Despite that, she still noticed him. Every time.

Even when she tried to keep her distance, her eyes would flicker toward him whenever he had a new injury, small glances, subtle frowns. She never asked, but he saw the way her fingers twitched, like she wanted to reach out but held herself back.

With a sigh, he reaches for those book, flipping it open absentmindedly. A small slip of paper flutters out, landing on his desk.

His eyes narrow.

It’s a pharmacy receipt, nothing serious, just something over-the-counter, painkillers maybe, with the pharmacy’s name is printed at the top..

She must have bought it before vanishing. Maybe she even went there often.

His grip tightens around the paper.

An accident. A careless mistake.

But now, it’s his lead.

✦.───────── ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ───────── .✦ Art work and char: belong to Infold Game ✦.───────── ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ ───────── .✦

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deep space #lads x reader #lads xavier #lads #Love and deepspace Xavier X reader #xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace #lads xavier x reader #xavier x you #xavier lads #lnds #lnds xavier #lnds x reader

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callsign-mayhem · 3 months ago

Text

loving is easy (b.b)

Part three of the 'Heartbreak Feels So Good' sequel series!

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 2.5k CW: Use of Y/N

The rest of the Dagger Squad find out about your relationship with Bradley—some in the most inconvenient way possible.

FIND THE ORIGINAL SERIES HERE!

The morning sun hung high over the base, casting long shadows across the tarmac as the squad went about their daily routines. Reuben Fitch stretched his legs out on the tarmac, basking in the warmth of the sunlight. He’d already done his laps and his push ups, and he was taking five with a cup of crappy coffee from the cafeteria.

He closed his eyes and turned to face the sun—he could feel the positive effects it was having on him.

Well, up until Javy stood directly in the sun, dousing him in shadow.

‘What the hell, man?’ Reuben snapped.

Javy stepped aside and sat down next to him. ‘You seein’ this?’ He asked.

‘Seeing what?’

He pointed to you and Bradley. The two of you stood out like a beacon of light—though you weren’t intentionally drawing attention to yourselves, it was difficult not to notice. Bradley was giving you a piggyback ride, your laughter floating in the air like a sweet melody. His strides were carefree, and his back was straight and proud as he carried you. Your arms were wrapped loosely around his neck, and the way you moved together—so comfortable and at ease—made it clear that you were something more than friends. ‘When did that happen?’ Reuben exclaimed. Javy shrugged, pulling out his phone to take a video. ‘I have no idea. I gotta send this to Jake.’

Jake, who was still on deployment, would definitely want to know about this interesting turn of events. ‘Honestly,’ Reuben said, sipping his coffee and wincing. ‘I’m glad. For a minute, I was scared she’d never get over Viper.’ Javy’s lips twitched in a half-smile. ‘I wasn’t worried. They were always gonna get together. Shouldn’t come as a surprise.’ He watched you and Bradley with an air of mild amusement. ‘More surprising that it’s taken this long.’

Reuben’s eyes flicked between you, watching you laugh, utterly oblivious to the attention you were attracting. ‘Did we miss the announcement? Or do they just suck at hiding things?’ ‘They’ve always been like this. Always lookin’ at each other like—’ He paused, mimicking how Bradley looked at you in a way that made Reuben laugh. They watched as Bradley set you down, both of you still laughing. Bradley wrapped an arm around your waist as you walked, heads together as if you shared some secret nobody else knew.

‘They’ll tell us when they're ready.’ Javy reasoned. ‘We just have to do our best to act surprised.’

Bob wanted it on the record that he thought this was a bad idea. Being a backseater meant he’d perfected the art of listening to his intuition; right now, it was screaming at him.

‘Will you stop being such a pussy?’ Natasha hissed, lifting the welcome mat in front of your door. Underneath, your house key glistened in the late morning light.

‘If she’s not answering our texts, she probably has a good reason.’ Bob rationalised.

Nat glared at him as she put the key into the lock and twisted it. The door swung open to your tidy apartment, and she stepped in. ‘Look, you can wait outside if you want, but after everything she’s been through with Viper, I don’t trust this situation. She used to freeze us out, even when she needed us the most.’ Nat reminded him. ‘Maybe she hasn’t broken that habit yet.’

As much as Bob didn’t like this plan, he knew that Natasha had the right idea and that she meant well. Besides, he was worried about you too. He followed her in, gently closing the door behind him.

The apartment was eerily quiet.

‘She must be sleeping.’ Bob whispered. ‘We should go.’

‘We had breakfast plans, though. She wouldn’t forget; we arranged it yesterday before leaving base.’ Nat started heading down the hall that led to your bedroom, the bathroom, and the guest room.

‘You can’t go in there, Phoenix!’

‘I can and I will.’

God, Nat could be stubborn as hell. She couldn’t back down even if she wanted to, not when it came to her friends.

Your bedroom door was already slightly open. Nat pushed it, and Bob reluctantly followed her in. The curtains were open and hazy, golden light pooled on the floor below your window. Bob’s eyes landed on the group photo you had stuck to your vanity mirror, and he smiled thoughtfully.

‘Well, shit.’ Nat murmured bemusedly.

You were nestled into Bradley’s side, tangled under the covers, asleep in each other’s arms. Bradley’s face was relaxed and soft in sleep, with your head resting on his chest and your hand lying gently against his stomach. The faint sound of your synchronised breathing filled the air.

Bob and Nat shared a look, trying to contain their smiles.

‘I guess this answers some of our questions.’ He said.

‘I guess so.’

You started to stir, eyes squinting as they adjusted to the light. When you noticed two of your best friends standing at the foot of your bed, you sat bolt upright. The sight of your bedhead was Nat’s final straw, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

She crossed her arms casually. ‘Wondered where you’d gotten to. Did you forget about our plans?’

You groaned in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. Bradley started to stir next to you. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. Looks like you had more pressing matters to attend to.’ She smirked.

‘Phoenix!’ Bob hisssed.

Bradley blinked his eyes open slowly. He shifted, trying to pull you back down as he groggily mumbled something under his breath. When he heard Natasha’s voice, he stiffened slightly. His brows furrowed when he saw her and Bob, clearly trying to process the bizarre situation.

‘What the fuck are you two doing here?’ He grumbled, voice thick with sleep.

‘Checking on Y/N since she didn’t make it to breakfast. Seems to be a regular occurrence these days.’

Bradley squinted at her. ‘Couldn’t you have knocked? Like a normal person?’

‘I told her to knock.’ Bob said. ‘I’m sorry. She’s sorry.’

‘No, I’m not.’ She smirked. ‘Cause if we hadn’t let ourselves in, we would never’ve known.’

Bradley launched a pillow at her, which she dodged. Instead, it hit Bob, knocking his glasses slightly.

‘Okay!’ You exclaimed. ‘This is officially the weirdest wake-up call I’ve ever had! Both of you, wait in the kitchen while we get dressed.’

‘No funny business, you two. I’m starving.’ Nat winked.

Bob practically dragged her out of the room, leaving you and Bradley to get ready and salvage what was left of your dignity.

‘Guess the cat’s out of the bag.’ You grumbled.

The morning air was warm with a slight breeze as the four of you stepped out of your apartment building. The drive to the beachside diner was quick, and as the sun climbed higher, the ocean glistened against the horizon. Bradley walked beside you, the two of you comfortable in each other's company. Bob and Natasha were ahead of you, still talking, but Natasha’s eyes were sparkling with that familiar mischief. The diner was quiet, a perfect little spot overlooking the beach. You settled into a booth beside Bradley, and Natasha wasted no time. ‘So, you guys finally stopped dancing around each other.’ Bradley stirred his coffee, his eyes soft as he glanced at you. He let Natasha have her moment, though you could see the amused smile tugging at his lips. ‘Stop with the teasing.’ He warned, although his heart wasn’t in it. ‘I’m just curious. All the years of ‘nothing’s going on’, and now you two are all cosy in bed together?’ Bob, who’d been quietly sipping his coffee, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was not as eager to probe into your personal life. ‘I mean, come on,’ she continued, her eyes dancing between you and Bradley. ‘You two are practically inseparable. What was it that finally did it?’ You looked over at Bradley, your heart swelling with affection. The teasing might have been playful, but a part of you was still not used to having a public conversation about your relationship. With Elijah, you pretty much kept it all bottled up—partly because you didn’t know how to talk about it and partly because you knew it was fucked up, and if you told anyone, they would convince you to end things. Bradley leaned in slightly, his voice gentle. ‘I’ve always liked her, but I didn’t want to push things too hard while she had a boyfriend.’ Your heart clenched at the mention of your ex, but you were starting to realise that the only way you’d ever get over it was if you stopped bottling things up. ‘Bradley helped me through it, made me realise that I deserve better.’ You smiled at him, momentarily forgetting that your friends were there. ‘And he’s the very definition of better.’ Nat watched the two of you, shaking her head with a smile. She already knew all of this. She just wanted to hear the two of you say it. ‘Well, thank God. Honestly, I was waiting for someone to finally admit it. It was like watching a slow-motion car crash.’ Bob chuckled under his breath, which he quickly tried to hide with a sip of his coffee. ‘It was getting a little painful watching Rooster pine for you, Y/CS.’ This made all of you laugh, probably because Bob rarely spoke his mind so frankly. Despite the playful digs, the warmth of the moment was comforting. ‘We had to get there in our own time,’ you said, squeezing Bradley’s hand under the table. ‘And we’re there now.’ Natasha’s expression softened momentarily, her teasing smile giving way to something more sincere. ‘I’m happy for you two. It’s about time you stopped being idiots.’ Bradley smirked but didn’t argue with her, his hand resting comfortably beside yours. ‘It feels good not to be an idiot anymore.’ He said, his voice low but full of affection. Nat tapped her fingers on the table, grinning. ‘So... when’s the wedding?’ You choked on your coffee, but Bradley just laughed, squeezing your hand a little tighter. ‘Slow down, Nix.’ You glanced at Bradley; how he looked at you made your heart flutter. ‘Yeah, slow down.’ You repeated softly, but it was clear to everyone at the table that you’d already taken the biggest step. The rest would fall into place in time. Bob shook his head, not interested in delving deeper into the teasing. ‘Can we just have a peaceful breakfast for once?’ Everyone laughed again, the tension easing. You felt a deep sense of contentment as the conversation shifted to lighter topics. With Bradley by your side and your friends around you, you knew you’d found your place—together.

Drenched with warm summer rain, you entered The Hard Deck on Bradley’s arm—your favourite place to be. With Elijah, it had never felt this way. With him, entering a bar spiked your anxiety levels beyond control, as there was never any telling how he would act after one too many beers. And if he decided to go for top shelf spirits that night, it would undoubtedly end in tears. With Bradley, you never had to worry about any of that. When you went out together, you only had to worry about trying to pay for a round of drinks without him catching on and snatching your debit card out of your hand. Tonight, the bar was quiet. It was a Wednesday and you knew that a lot of the pilots who frequented Penny’s place had been deployed on an emergency humanitarian aid air drop mission. It was pure chance that none of your squad had been sent away. Aside from Jake, who was still away on a classified mission. It had proven difficult to stay in contact, but you all did your best. Besides, you knew how quickly time flew—he would be back where he belonged in no time. Mickey, Reuben, Javy were already in the group’s usual spot by the dart board. When they saw you and Bradley approaching, their conversation trailed off and they looked up. ‘Hey.’ Bradley greeted, pulling a stool out for you. Mickey glanced at the others. He seemed to be silently asking permission to say something. Reuben nodded once, granting him permission. ‘So, Coyote and Payback have something they wanna ask you two.’ Mickey said. Javy glared at him, and Bradley’s eyes darted to you. Had Mickey slipped up and let on about what he’d seen in the hangar the other week? Bracing himself, Bradley said: ‘What’s going on?’ Reuben smiled sheepishly. ‘Coyote and I saw you giving Y/N a piggyback ride across the runway on Friday morning, and we thought you looked kind of like a couple.’ The last thing Bradley expected you to do was laugh, but that’s just what you did. ‘That’s ‘cause we are.’ You said nonchalantly. Even though Reuben and Javy already seemed to be in the know, both of their mouths dropped open at your admission. Maybe they’d expected you to lie, or be embarrassed, but what was the point? You and Bradley had already had your fun, sneaking around for a month or so. After Mickey had found out, and then Nat and Bob, you realised it was time to tell your closest friends—your family. Mickey beamed, and Bradley eyed him suspiciously. ‘Did you tell them?’ He asked, pointing to the others. Mickey’s happy smile faltered. ‘What, no! I promised I wouldn’t.’ You put your hand on Bradley’s thigh. ‘He wouldn’t do that, babe. Besides, we haven’t been all that secretive lately.’ ‘No,’ Bradley smiled. ‘I guess we haven’t.’ A soft, electronic trill filled the air. Javy leaned his phone against a pint glass, and after a few seconds, Jake picked up. It was rare for him to pick up his phone. ‘Jakey-boy!’ Javy exclaimed. ‘How are you, man?’ ‘All good. They reckon I’m gonna be home sooner than they thought.’ ‘That’s great. I told you that would happen.’ ‘What’s up, anyway? How is everyone?’ Jake inquired. With a knowing smirk, Javy turned his phone around. ‘These two have something they need to tell you.’ You rolled your eyes playfully and grabbed the phone. ‘What’s goin’ on, darlin’?’ He asked. Before you could speak, Bradley snatched the phone. ‘There isn’t gonna be a wedding invitation waiting for you when you get back, but maybe someday.’ Jake’s face split into the brightest grin you’d ever seen. You nudged Bradley, confused. ‘What are you talking about?’ Jake chuckled. ‘Before I left, I told him there better be a wedding invitation waiting on my doorstep when I get home.’ Your breath hitched in your throat at the thought of marrying Bradley. What a dream that would be.

‘So you really were crushing on me the whole time?’ You teased. ‘Oh, he has it bad.’ Jake replied. Even though you already knew this, hearing it from someone else made it hit home.

‘Well, that’s just fine, because I do, too.’ Jake pretended to gag, and you handed the phone back to Javy with a laugh. Suddenly, you couldn’t remember why you and Bradley had wanted to keep your relationship secret, even for a little while. It was so much more fun, and so much more real now it was out in the open. The jukebox switched songs, the squad’s laughter filled the bar, and Bradley pulled you a little closer—because after all, this was just the beginning.

A/N: It's finally here! Sorry for the wait. I thought it would be interesting to see how the rest of the Daggers would find out, so here it is. I've got something really exciting planned for the next part... I'm thinking the Daggers take a long weekend trip somewhere. :)

Taglist: @crowdedimagines @sadgirlgiselle @sleepy-writersblock @lovelyygirl8 @my-therapist-hates-me @primroseluna @eloquentdreamer @sgt-barnesveins @daybleedsintonightfa11 @constructivejudger @honey-and-bi @caitsymichelle13 @alwayshave-faith @rosedurin @impossibleblizzardstudentposts

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littlebirdygirlywriting · 4 months ago

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Tyler Owens thoughts as he’s standing at the altar, waiting for you to walk down the aisle 🥺

“Sorry, I’m Late”

Twisters Masterlist || Read the sequel here!

Prequel also available here!

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tyler’s nerves begin to get the better of him when you’re late walking down the aisle.

Author’s Note: I literally squealed when I saw this request! Thank you so much for sending it to me! (Also, I apparently can’t limit myself to 100 words to save my life, so I hope these “drabbles” are still alright. 😂)

Warnings: Lil bit of fluff. Tyler Owens being a nervous wreck. I think that’s it. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Word Count: 563 (I said I couldn’t limit myself!)

———————————————————————————

Tyler Owens, Tornado Wrangler, the guy who drives head-on into tornadoes for a living, was nervous. Swallowing past the tightness in his throat, he wiped sweaty palms against the fabric of his dress pants, eyes locked on the back doors of the church.

“Where is she?”

The soft murmur of guests whispering and shifting in their seats rang like a cacophony in his ears. The clock on the wall ticked, fifteen minutes past the hour.

“She’s never late—Boone, where is she?”

“Relax, T.” Boone, best man, dressed in a clean-cut navy suit and lavender tie, patted Tyler’s shoulder reassuringly. “It’s a wedding. Things go wrong, the bride shows up late. It’s nothing to be worried about.”

Against everything screaming within him, Tyler nodded. You were probably just late. You wouldn’t leave him here, standing at the altar with his heart on his sleeve, his hopes for the future balanced precariously on a twist of fate. Would you? His eyes never left the sanctuary doors.

“He’s going to be freaking out! Lily–” You reached your hand out, bouquet of flowers horizontal in your grasp. “Lily, he needs to know why I’m not out there.”

“It’s a wedding,” Lily mumbled through a mouthful of pins as she attempted to hide the blooming coffee stain soaking through the layers of your dress. “Nobody expects it to start on time.”

“But I’m never late!” Panic flared in your chest, heart racing against the confines of your ribcage.

You knew it was likely a culmination of caffeine and jitters causing such an intense reaction, but you didn’t care. Tyler needed to know you were coming….

“There!” Lily chirped. “You’re good, let’s go.”

“I’m going to go find her.”

“No, T!” Boone grabbed his sleeve before he had a chance to step forward, placing himself between Tyler and the room and leaning in close. “Tyler, listen to me. That girl is head-over-heels for you. Whatever’s going on in your head… it’s wrong. She is coming. You got it? She’s gonna be here soon.”

Tyler released a long, shuddering breath, gaze landing on the solid barrier of the closed sanctuary doors.

“You got it, T?”

Tyler tore his eyes away from the door and met Boone’s.

“Yeah.” He breathed again, steadier this time. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good!” Boone patted his arm and stepped beside him again.

The pianist began playing. All eyes turned to the back of the church, and Lily stepped through the creaking doors, lavender gown matching Boone’s tie and a small bouquet of baby’s breath in her hands. She nodded slightly at Tyler as she placed herself on the bride’s side, then faced the aisle.

The music seamlessly shifted into the bridal chorus.

Floating through the back doors, illuminated like an angel come down to earth, you entered the sanctuary.

Tyler couldn’t take his eyes off you as you walked down the aisle, a graceful smile curling your lips and nothing but love spilling out of your eyes. Your dress swished and flowed around you, serving as a background to the delicate piano.

Stepping down to meet you, Tyler grasped your hand, tears pricking the backs of his eyes. Your smile turned to something softer, and you nudged his shoulder gently with your own, leaning in close before you stood together at the altar.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

Tyler smiled, squeezing your hand. “I was never worried.”

#tyler owens x reader #twisters x reader #tyler owens #twisters #glen powell #tyler owens fanfiction #twisters fanfiction #drabble requests #fanfiction requests #requests #request #fanfiction author #fanfiction writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction writer #tyler owens fanfic #twisters fanfic #birdywrites🕊

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falsegodcore · 2 days ago

Text

IT GETS SO LONELY HERE; viktor x gn!reader, spiritual sequel to cutlery, domestic clingy yearner viktor, brief references to real scientists and artists, simple and sappy as usual. set before canon events and possibly non canon compliant but includes s2 spoilers. cw for internalised ableism in one paragraph. 5.8k words + crossposted on ao3 🙂‍↕️

small note to understand a three line exchange: while talking about quantum probabilities (in short, the concept that different outcomes of a quantum system can coexist until the system itself is observed or measured), einstein once said “god does not play dice with the universe” to voice his refusal of the theory. bohr replied to this with “einstein, stop telling god what to do” lol. written while listening to this on loop if you are curious

There is a short line that bends on the glass of the window he presses against when he waits for you. Sometimes his fingers trace it absently and he wonders how it even got there. You once guessed a past tenant dragged the metal tip of their bow compass on the surface – to jest, to get revenge on the Academy because of some strict professor, just to vandalise because they would get away with it. “Maybe leave a mark”, you had added. Viktor remembers not getting the appeal of leaving a small scratch on an old window for the sake of leaving a mark. When you had asked what he would call a meaningful mark, then, Viktor thought of the matching burn scars you both carry on the back of your left hands, the result of a careless experiment he carried late at night and that you had tried to stop, more lucid than he was, only to get hurt in the end. At least he knows his name is mentioned whenever someone inquires about the taut skin. Viktor hopes someone will ask you about him, because being teased by shared classmates isn’t enough.

Sometimes he has to stop himself from dwelling in such thoughts. Viktor fears Piltover has made him greedy. Maybe he can’t remember the hunger of Zaun.

(It’s easier to blame the city than you.)

It’s wrong to say he presses against the window, Viktor thinks; he presses in a safe corner between a pillar that looks ridiculous in the minimalist architecture of your shared room and the window. The windowsill he sits on is warm, warm only because they fucked up the water pipes’ placing when constructing the building and your downstairs neighbor had a habit of taking long showers that left the spot warm as if soaked with sunlight. Why a water pipe passes right under a window, the two of you don’t know.

Curling into the window gives Viktor a view of the Academy district in between his reflection, even if he tries to avoid his constant disheveled state – although Viktor always argues he has started to take more care of his appearance, suspiciously ever since you were introduced to him, years ago. But you have always looked at him more when his hair is a mess. He used to struggle to find the courage to duck his head and ask you to fix it for him with a playful tone – as playful as the nervous edge of the voice of a boy with a crush could be, anyways.

You never fixed much. Maybe moved some strands to the right side, twirl a few because ‘Your curls are cute,’ even if you both knew and know they’re not proper curls and just a result of his fidgety hands, never content unless they’re doing something. They’d be at peace around yours, Viktor thought.

And still does – he thinks too much and doesn’t act enough, or at least not as much as he’d like. Doesn’t even bother to look like he isn’t having a crisis when he is thinking and you've told him more than once he’s very expressive, and you like him for it. ‘I don’t have to second guess’, you had said, even if it sounded more like a confession; as if you wanted to say you were tired of second guessing, and maybe that was why you seemed to hesitate when some people talked at you – not to you. Viktor is observant and can tell the difference.

You don’t have to be observant to notice his clenched jaw or furrowed eyebrows or his stares when he thinks or wants you. Viktor wishes he could be more subtle, but it’s hard to care when you offer palms and fingers without question, when you let him kiss the healing wound you carry because of him. Hard to keep himself from vomiting his heart out and offering it in exchange for a kiss.

(He begs beautifully for them. Viktor’s lips part with need and his head tilts towards yours and he hooks his cane on his forearm to tug you closer with both hands, close enough you can see his pupils dilate. You never make him plead, ‘You’re worth more than that,’ you tell him, and then tell yourself you shouldn’t soothe a man so much, even if Viktor’s sighs when you kiss his jaw are worth more of a million ‘please’s.)

Viktor is very selfish and hates the one class you don’t share with him with a burning passion, making faces when it takes you away from him. You’re well aware it’s just an act: he actually doesn’t. If anything, your lover likes having an excuse to hear your voice and feel your enthusiasm – ‘feel’ because your hands are as fidgety as his and they play with his fingers or sleeve or hair when you ramble. Viktor likes it when he asks what you’ve done in class and you curl around him to exchange secrets about Physics.

What Viktor hates is waiting. The way his heart bends in desperate anticipation and how breathing almost hurts, even if he knows seeing you emerge from that door, looking for him and only him, will be bliss itself. Air will be knocked out of his lungs at the notes of a jingling and impatient motif – present in the slip of keys in a pocket or bag before leaving each other and the struggle against the weary lock of your weary room when coming back home. Only the sight of your face or any sound from your throat will fill them back with oxygen, and Viktor has learnt to act as if he wasn’t waiting at all. Even if you’ve never given him a reason to be ashamed of needing your presence.

A couple runs after each other below his attentive gaze and the three floors of your building. They crash and curl into each other and shake with either laughter or despair, he can’t make it out. If it’s a giggling fit, Viktor wishes they’d be you and him. You never let him go easily when his stomach aches with snickering muscles. Fingers curl around his jaw to catch the expression, because Viktor doesn’t frequently laugh with his voice and you can relish only in his expression, in the way his nose scrunches and his eyebrows furrow when he can’t stop what he calls a ridiculous expression. His hands try to hide his face and then paw at yours when you don’t let him. When you’re the one caught in helpless giggling, Viktor presses against you, rubs the tip of his nose against the fullness of your cheek and indulges in the sound or tremble of your body. He has realized holding you while his fingers cause that same reaction is oddly relaxing.

You scold he’s mean. He hums you should stop being so lenient, then. Takes it back when you’re vengeful enough to make him curl in a ball of whines and kicking limbs. Nothing ever gets him to beg as much.

The couple breaks their embrace and one rubs at their face – it was despair, Viktor hums. Soothing, then considers. He’s no stranger to crying in the safety of your collarbones and then trying to rub the traces away, as if that could prevent the swelling of his eyes. Fingers wrap around his and chide softly that he will only make it worse, even if they do the same against glossy eyes, trying to hide the tears before his lips can drink them away. Viktor drags his knees up to his chest because the thought of you crying makes him nauseous, in a different way than the longing does. Helpless and futile, holding what he worships while it falls apart.

(Viktor thinks of Rio’s absent gaze as he clinged to her as a child, when his safety net weren’t your arms but a cave and a disgraced professor and a muted waverider. Of feeling helpless again, and not helping anyone at all. The way you sometimes don’t let him close when you’re hurt doesn’t help. Never helps, and Viktor retches with the selfish desire of licking each of your wounds anyways, of keeping you away from anything that might make you cry, of forcing his care on you if it meant you’d be safe. It’s so selfish he hates himself, and avoids you until the terror of becoming that same professor is gone and replaced with rationality.)

You love to compare him to a cat whenever he’s curled against the window on your return. Viktor squints at you in faux offence because he knows the grumpy act always steals an endeared smile, a melted heart and the promise of a kiss the second your hands are free. Usually between his eyebrows, while his hands wrap around your hips and keep you there, in front of him, where he can see you. There is something special in pressing his face against your stomach instead of saying ‘I missed you. You’re back to me, I was growing impatient. I’m glad you’re back. Don’t leave again, please, don’t leave me again.’ Words he doesn’t want to bother in a mumble, lest he has to admit he truly is greedy.

Most dorm rooms are meant for one person, two if the Academy is being extra generous – Viktor recalls desperate laments about your roommate before they dropped out and before he found the courage to mention living together for the following semester. And the one after that. Part of him misses the large, single room he had, a courtesy from being Heimerdinger’s assistant. Viktor had asked him if it would’ve been okay to simply add another bed. Heimerdinger didn’t have to ask why. And even if he had been surprisingly eager to play matchmaker and be an ear for Viktor’s romantic struggles, the Yordle had said no. Couldn’t help but question if the two of you would be able to focus on studies while living together, but supported his pupil all the same. Viktor likes your small room. His eyes leave the couple (busy in another hug) to blink at two beds pressed together. They take most of what should be his half of the room. The rest is a garden of soldering wires stolen from laboratories, textbooks with notes scribbled in the margins, unidentifiable mechanical parts and the actual flowers Viktor tries to grow before succumbing to deadlines and finals and accidentally killing them. Your only concern with the plants is naming them lest he accuses you of murder.

The motif of jingling keys reaches his ears and his heart and it leaps somewhere around his chest, maybe tries to burst out of it; he’s foolishly glad his ribs keep it in place. Bleeding out on old tiles isn’t what he’d like as his demise or your ‘Welcome home’ sight.

Viktor makes himself smaller in his corner when you finally swing the door open, forcefully, and gripping the doorknob. Your eyes move to the bed first, because you had left him curled on his mattress with a midterm induced headache. The windowsill is the second spot they check, and Viktor pretends not to be staring at you through the reflection on the glass.

You’ve always been one for entrances that bordered on silly, which is something he adores. You carry conversations he can’t anticipate with your presence. A moment, and then “The door is swollen,” is your own ‘I’m home’. You push it closed more fiercely than usually needed, full of shoulder-shove. Still leaning on the faulty wood, the tip of your left shoe pushes against the back of the other to get rid of it. Cold tiles meet your foot and you can’t help a small wince as you repeat the gesture and change in your slippers.

“Probably because of humidity and all. Do you think it might be growing mold inside?”

“Hopefully not. My lungs can’t take it.”

“Sometimes I’m glad you got pneumonia two years ago. At least that got you to stop smoking. And get them checked.”

Sudden guilt pools in Viktor’s stomach. You don’t have to know he almost fell in the old habit one weekend you were away, he has told himself. He’s aware you hate secrecy – but shame clogs his throat. His brain conjures images of the cigarette packet that laid on his desk for hours, upright and menacing, before being unceremoniously pushed out the same window he is staring at you through. Viktor still hopes it didn’t hit anyone.

Too tired to catch the averted gaze of an awful liar, you’re certain he is still sulking about his exam and the two hours you were away. Two bags are dumped on the cluttered table you never eat on as you approach your cat’s hiding spot. Viktor watches as you do: hands innocently behind your back and uniform creased, you’re the picture of an angel, to him. Viktor presses his back against the wall with a quiet, wishful sigh, like a poet looking out the valley of the world. His eyes dump you for the orange sky when you lean to him, bending slightly.

“Have you been awake long?” One of your hands presses against the ridiculous pillar, the other tries to cradle his cheek. Your fingers hesitate and start to retreat, in case he’s still upset and needs space and because you haven’t washed your hands yet. Viktor blinks, like he does when he needs to snap himself out of something, and pushes his face against your palm before it can get too far.

“Not long, no,” His voice trembles with another lie as he presses his nose in your skin as he searches for a familiar scent, but ink lingers on your hands and so does the clammy smell of university lecture halls. Your thumb drags a line down his nose and he sighs again. “You took longer than usual.”

It’s an innocent way to lament your absence without sounding bothered, even if Viktor is, very much so. The same teeth he tries to hide when overwhelmed by smiles nip gently at your palm, at the base of a phalanx. It pricks just enough for you to like it.

“I stopped by the bakery, love. You know Thursday nights are a rite of forgiveness.”

He blinks again and his hazel eyes stare into yours. Viktor thinks too much, doesn’t speak enough and is the most expressive person you’ve ever met. You’ve grown used to the absent gazes, clinging arms and faint pouts that visit your lover on Thursday – and you welcome them as long as the cause is innocent and not a mask for sorrow. Before you leave, since Viktor anticipates the longing, and after you’ve come back to his arms. Even if he’s the one to crawl in yours more often than not. Being held is soothing. Pinning you down with his weight is grounding. Eating cake before dinner is exciting.

“Mhm. Bribery?”

“Not really, just part of the rite. I’ve missed you.”

His angel speaks in effortless love confessions and the lump in his chest is lifted for a moment. Then comes back when you remove your hand from his face. The first frown of the evening makes its appearance but you kiss it away. Promise you’ll be back in a second and kiss him again somewhere on his face when he hums plainly, keep kissing until he’s unable not to smile through faux annoyance as he’s pushing you towards the bathroom with an unspoken hurry up and a pat to your ass.

Viktor dumps the windowsill for the two beds pressed into one instead of peeking at the pastry hiding in the bag or stealing a bite just to be annoying. His stomach presses against the mattress and fortune favors him: his nose finds itself in a crease of your pillow, and the scent of your skin fills his lungs as he breathes it in. The hand carrying your shared burn scar flexes against the fabric. Sometimes Viktor wonders if your scent is genetically programmed to heal the damage left behind the air of the Fissures and tries to delay wash day by a few nights, only to be completely engulfed in it as you sleep, dream, huff, moan in his arms and the very sheets that carry your sweat.

(It’s a foolish fantasy. He’ll start coughing up blood in ten years and pass out during the one all-nighter you’ll be too tired to join. He won’t get to put a ring around your finger. You won’t get to say goodbye before your lover disappears in a purple husk.)

A knee dips in the bed. Fingertips lift his shirt, dragging along his spine, tracing a shoulder blade. What remains of angel wings, as some obnoxious theorists like to put it. One peeks just slightly because of faulty anatomy – but an innocent case. “Bodies can be weird,” You once told him while tracing his back as you always do: softly, like feathers, worshipping him while he was face down and bothered by something that he forces to be unspeakable, all strong feelings he tries to rationalise to avoid a heart attack and scaring you to death. Casual words always work like a spell when he is tormented with thoughts. Questions would kill him. Thus, you simply spoke. “I can pop one of my toes for a full minute. Could have, since I was little. It’s just a little quirk, like this.”

You had pecked the soft spot where the bone melted into muscle. Viktor tilted his head up, skeptical of your confession, then counted fifteen pops and struggled to remember why he had been upset in the first place.

Your thumb moves along an imaginary line towards his ribs and four other fingers press into them absently. A squeeze is always the beginning of a hug. The hum Viktor breathes against your pillowcase is both sleepy and needy: wordless requests for affection, for your hands or lips to keep moving against him. In the aftermath of a night of tipsy limbs too tired for sex, Viktor once muttered he’d rather you manhandled him if it meant he would be touched, but took it back when morning came. You simply read it as an exaggerated confession of enjoying your affection and avoided bringing it up lest he avoided you.

Mere obedience isn’t what drives you to give in to his whims; you are not one to please for the sake of it. Devotion simply comes easy with loving Viktor, and being loved by him. Being understanding, rarely pressing, never going out of your way to elicit reactions to soothe your heart – maybe because Viktor is a jealous man by nature and you don’t need to press any buttons. Maybe you are boring or too careful, but it’s not a good look on him, either: the averted eyes and stiff tongue, the isolation. There is nothing pretty in coaxing him out of bad moods and guilt – because Viktor gets mad at himself when gazes you can’t control linger, even when you don’t regard anyone nor anything outside your bubble, outside what ‘matters’.

Viktor knows he matters. He has always mattered, even before you; never did he doubt his worth, even on those days he couldn’t move because of his joints and faulty leg, the same limb he’s learnt not to resent as much through your easy loving of it, of him. You shouldn’t even need to ask me – do you feel you have to? It’s not an issue, never has been. The only reason I say I’d give you my own is because you said you’d like to try running down at the harbour. Or play tag, I think you mentioned it once. But it’s not an issue for me, even if you can’t really believe it. You know you would tell me the same. It’s not even a problem to fix, to me. Ah, sorry, do I sound self-centric…? And Viktor’s tears are cradled in the pool of your collarbones like holy water. When shame and the fierce need of not crying over what he knows isn’t all he is come, you are still there to cling to; no longer for comfort or hiding, and just because a cat’s favorite spot is their human’s warmth. You let him make you sunlight to bask in. Understanding, rarely pressing. What else matters? Your lips press a kiss against the back of his neck as he muses over you.

The books you keep on two stacks on the floor and never recommend to anyone matter. Viktor has read only a few, secretly borrowing copies from a small library; not so you could talk about them together, only to catch glimpses of you in the lines, of the reasons you loved them so much and what they say about the heart his own is eager to fully understand, by himself, with as little help as it can manage. He wants to know you, completely.

Papers with diagrams and flashcards from past exams kept as souvenirs of your efforts (Viktor does the same), next to your favorite academic papers. Gadgets of a small, round, yellow mascotte of a brand he has no interest in, but finds very endearing. Hidden pictures of your family and school years that you let him see when he misses the version of you he has never met and a photo album of the two of you, before and after getting together (It’s thin: Viktor bought a camera only to forget to bring it on most dates). More carefully hidden cutouts of articles about people you no longer talk to. A moth made of a dead, slim bulb light and scrap metals as its wings he put together just to give you a little something out of a nightly whim (He takes a lot of pride in its presence on your shelf). A pitifully welded rose for a platonic Valentine’s day, as if something made by his own hands could even try to be less personal than a bouquet. Viktor realizes he couldn't have been less subtle (There are times you still fear one day he’ll wake up and leave). Jewelry that belonged to your mother and father. Vinyls you can’t play pressed against his own, but at least getting you to talk about the music you adore is much easier than doing the same for your books. Tickets of exhibitions and theater plays you’ve bought for each other. The mole you are currently trying to kiss.

Viktor huffs a chuckle as you nose at his throat, face shoved against the sheets. “Dearest,” He tries, chuckling again, “Love, you’ll suffocate. Wait.” You lean back slightly to let him roll on his back with another fond exhale. Viktor’s fingers reach for your face as you sit properly at his side, one ankle under a knee, back bent forward towards the line of muscle that hosts the dark smudge. The hand that just grazed your jaw traces a line until the back of your head, tangling in hair. Viktor doesn’t understand your fixations for his moles, but has no reason to stop you. A kiss is a kiss and he wants as many as you can offer.

Your mouth moves down to his collarbone where a smaller mole almost blends in with his pale skin. Viktor laughs when you lick the bone just because. “Oh, quit it,” Viktor kicks you weakly with his knee as if he hasn’t licked weirder spots, “I don’t think God made collarbones for licking, miláčku.”

“You quit the dramatics, mister. And don’t tell God what to do.”

Viktor pauses for a moment before his lips break into a small smile and he speaks through poorly hidden amusement. “Did you just quote Bohr at me?”

Viktor’s fingers tug your hair to make your head tilt back in a gesture that is usually yours. The few brain cells still working after your afternoon lecture go through notes of Bohr, Einstein and Quantum Theory. You can only blink innocently. “No?” Not intentionally, at least.

Your lips approach his face again the moment his mouth opens to speak. The words die in his throat for another gentle huff, the closest you get to giggles from him on most days. “I was about to ask if you were done,” Viktor says as you kiss a faint acne scar on his chin and then start walking the path of his moles, one your mouth knows perfectly. His parts to blow on your face as you move from the one above his lip to the mark under his eyes and you make a face at his cheekiness, an expression that gets him to actually chuckle. I missed you. I missed you, I missed you. His mind reels with it at every kiss, eyes closed. One of your fingers brushes the head of his eyebrow before your lips press in the small one that hides between hair.

“When summer comes,” Viktor moves while you speak to press his forehead to yours, secret code for a kiss, “I’ll drag you outside, to sunbathe. So I can kiss all your freckles.”

“Ah, please, don’t. I fear you will never be done.”

“Is that a vague way to say kisses tire you after a while?”

“Terribly wrong, dearest. But I get antsy with the need to reciprocate, you know that.”

Your expression couldn’t soften more. You lean back despite the hands that grip your forearms to try and get you to still. There is a small scar on his right earlobe that you don’t want to neglect – Viktor’s breath hitches under your attention and he covers it up with a weird sound in his throat. He calls your name once and tugs your hair again, firmer, the kind of firm to push you away.

Your assault ends before beginning. “What?” Slender fingers grip your jaw the moment you lean back; knowing Viktor, it’s less for keeping you in place and more to ground himself. His fingers are a sweet trail of affection against your skin; sharp and bony limbs that wrap around something divine, the same divine that he’s convinced knows no mercy. Ethereal, Viktor wants to say. Aren't you the prettiest thing they could ever create?

He has that look on his face. Eyes blown wide as if your head just exploded and his lips pressed in a pensive line. Thursdays mean silence, on most weeks. You don’t fully understand what happens every time you are away nor coax him to speak, but Viktor knows the clock is ticking. There are only so many things that are special when unspoken once romanticism wears off and he’s aware you won’t beg. The thought makes him huff, groan, let go of your face and rub his. You watch his tantrum with patience and a raised eyebrow. “What?” You ask again.

Viktor presses the heels of his palms in his eyes. “I’m going insane.”

“You go insane once a week.”

“I know. Could you keep pretending not to notice?”

That gets you to sigh. Loud and long and ending with a downturned smile: a fond, exasperated token of affection and a consequence of long exposure to him. Viktor wonders how he got so lucky. He peeks from under a palm to make sure you really are smiling. The corners lift more at the sweet sight. Viktor has little things like this: moments he looks at you all doe-eyed, even tilts his head as if searching for the right angle. Sits all curved on chairs like a cat trying to fit a much smaller box. He once mistakenly believed you had left without a word while he was in the bathroom – something you happen to do, albeit rarely, if you forget to check the mailbox; or do check it and end up abandoning grocery bags while going through junk letters (you’re always back before he can get himself to worry and apologize with an extra kiss, so it doesn’t matter). Viktor had moved around the apartment, frowning and mumbling to himself, had approached his safe window to maybe catch a glimpse of you down the street, had completely missed you under the table while trying to kill a spider (not catch: spiders do not matter. He is the one usually rescuing them.)

You had simply cleared your throat. He had stilled (resembling a doe again, only one freezing amidst the street), stared at you as if caught red handed and then stood in the middle of the room for a moment before sitting innocently on the edge of the bed, feigning ridiculous disinterest. All of that only to stand up in a second when his brain processed you were crumpled under the table.

Viktor sits up, leaning on his elbows with another sigh and a call of your name. “Could we go to bed earlier, tonight?”

“Of course. Are you tired? Naps sometimes make me more sleepy.”

“Ah, like coffee. You are always sleepy.”

“Maybe I am. Are you tired, Vik’?”

“Not exactly. I just want to hold you.”

His lips curl in a small smile when you press a string of endeared kisses down his jaw, a playful mwah, mwah, mwah of cuteness aggression. Viktor’s lips chase yours when you dare lean back and kissing amidst giggling always makes him feel light, like nothing else matters outside your smile. Viktor swallows your laughter until you’re pushing at him to retrieve that goddamn cake.

He follows suit. Arms find their place around your waist, nothing short of puzzle pieces and magnets, of things that return where they belong. His chest presses against your back like a second spine. Sometimes Viktor lets himself go, trusts you with his weight instead of being normal and asking for hugs without risking a domino effect with you face first on the floor. Other times he approaches with the faintests of pouts and hands that slip under coats and jackets to pull you flush into him and then pouts more when you let go – no matter how long you’ve held him. Viktor tells you there is a heaven in proximity. You jab at him for the poetics. He lets you, as long as you don’t hide blushing cheeks and flustered, bitten lips.

“Careful,” You chide with a smile as he squeezes your waist and peeks from behind your shoulder, all smiley eyes and clingy nose that rubs against your cheek thrice in the same innuendo of your three pecks. Throats are weak against laughter. “Viktor, careful!”

Whipped cream stains your side of the bed and Viktor’s chin is dusted with powdered sugar after his first bite. His fork steals the toppings from your slice and his mouth a kiss as if that counts as an apology. The flaky layers carry memories of times you’d buy a pastry on the way to classes and sink your teeth into it on old stairs in a lonely breakfast.

(You would hide. Wait in one of those sacred spots no one would find you in, corners and crannies and abandoned benches away from any eyes that would recognize, ask, smile at you with too many teeth and not enough honesty; then take the longer route to your group’s meet-up spot. All to run away somewhere you knew. The brain soothes as much as it hurts.

“You can’t hide there forever,” Viktor had chided gently, in a delicate whisper, when you slipped up in your perfect act. Spoke in that way to let you know he was watching, observing. That you weren’t too hard to decipher under gazes that wanted to. It was scary. Less when you started staring back.)

One of your fingertips smears cream on the tip of his nose in late retaliation. “They’re closing soon, by the way,” You say. “Will move somewhere downtown– awful marketing choice, I know. It will become a music shop. A big one!”

“Unless they ruin the flooring plan in the process,” He knows his tongue can’t touch his nose but a scientist never stops trying; the chocked snicker you hide behind a hand is enough of a satisfying result. “Then we might as well hope they sell vinyl players. I miss working with background music. The radio’s picks are awful.”

“You and your indie rock.” “You adore it.”

His thumb swipes the cream on his nose and on your lips while you raise both eyebrows. “Why, thank you.” You lick it clean while you speak. “What was that for?”

“For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.” “We agreed on not quoting musicals in bed.” “It was Newton, actually: you quoted Bohr earlier. It’s only fair, sweetheart.”

Viktor is so endearing it hurts. You bring your last bite to his smiling lips and his eyes soften with a kind of giddiness only sweets and eureka can bring him. Maybe it’s his own way of allowing himself to be playful, or a little childish. Carefree. You don’t ask: some things are better observed lest the magic falls into mundane. Or worse, into embarrassed – not flustered – and averted eyes.

(He is as sweet as he can be cheeky and it makes him precious. Openly treating him as such sometimes makes Viktor question if he’s precious glass rather than a gem and he tends to shrink back in himself – even if he thinks of you as precious, too, through the very same vision. So you treat his gentler moments with care, as he does with yours. Even if Viktor prefers lightening the mood to keep you smiling than risking a comfortable silence to turn sour. He likes the quiet much less than one would assume.)

Plates are moved to the floor and you on your lover’s lap. Viktor holds your face again, tilts it to focus on a cheek and swipes his thumb on the soft skin, pushing it up against your eye. You respond with a downturned smile that fills him with mischief. “Am I being manhandled?”

“Perhaps.” Viktor leans in to kiss below where his finger stretches your skin. It’s not very pleasant. “I missed you,” His chest feels lighter once the confession, the secret, leaves his heart through his throat. Viktor presses another kiss on your cheek before releasing your face, but your hand moves one of his back to your jaw and he can’t help a lovestruck smile. You don’t say it back, but your lips press against his and you sigh in his mouth like you finally found peace. Viktor guides your jaw to open further with a simple squeeze to your chin.

There is heaven in proximity and secrets in hums and you are still young enough to pretend affection will save you both. A ridiculous pillar and dead flowers watch over, the stars peek inside your apartment and everything falls into place. Right before his eyelids close in the bliss of another kiss, Viktor thinks two hours of weekly anguish are worth the prize.

#viktor x reader #viktor x you

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hard-core-super-star · 10 months ago

Text

hold you in my arms tonight [K.Bishop]

pairing: alpha!kate bishop x omega!reader

summary: kate's spending another late night at the office and you do what you always do best: distract her enough so she'll pay attention to you instead

warnings: smut -> minors, look away this isn't for you! [omegaverse au; pet play is more than implied this time but it's not super explicit {kate calls R puppy multiple times}; grinding; lots of praise; soft kate hours; a very small dash of overstimulation; cockwarming; office sex; kate either has a penis or a super fancy strap, that's up to the reader to decide ;)]

wordcount: 2.4k

a/n: LISTEN- i have no explanation for this, i am haunted by alpha!kate and i needed to do something about it. i'm still NOT an expert on omegaverse au's at all so the worldbuilding isn't as fleshed out as i would like. OH and yes, this is technically set in the same universe as my last alpha!kate fic, it's technically a sequel. anyway, that's all, hope you enjoy and um...drink some water :)

* * * * * * *

“Tell him I don’t care, he better have that paperwork in by tomorrow morning or he’s fired-”

Your eyes slowly open to the artificial lights in Kate’s ridiculously large office as her annoyed voice rouses you from your sleep.

Despite her best attempts at making the space cozier for you, a plan that includes an overwhelming amount of blankets and a special bed, the bright light contrasts too harshly with the pitch black darkness on the outside of the window behind her.

You don’t know what time it is, or how long you’ve been asleep for, but it’s obvious it’s far too late for her to still be hunched over her desk. It’s not unusual for her to overwork herself but she’s been spending far too long in this office and you’re a little sick of staring at the same four walls, no matter how much stuff is on them.

Kate’s phone call isn’t over yet but your need to be near her is more overwhelming than your uncertainty.

You slowly make your way over to her, the tension in her body getting clearer the closer you get to her. You’re not sure how to help and yet you continue forward with no plan until you reach her chair.

Your scent must give you away because Kate looks down to look at you the second you situate yourself on your knees next to her feet. Her free hand reaches down to stroke your hair while she continues arguing with whoever’s on the other line of the phone.

Despite your curiosity, you pay no attention to what she’s saying, assuming it’s just a bunch of CEO nonsense that you don’t understand. So, instead, you focus on the subtle change in the air around you.

The awful smell of the alpha’s stressed pheromones finally begins to dissipate a little as they’re replaced with the protective smell you’ve learned to associate with Kate.

You lean forward to rest your chin on her leg, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips while she continues to run her fingers through your locks.

You’re not sure how much time goes by, and you’re pretty sure you end up taking another mini-nap, but eventually you hear the words that you’ve been waiting for. “We’ll sort this out tomorrow, I’ve gotta go.”

You look up at her as she finally hangs up and turns all her attention over to you. Your excitement must be obvious, and contagious, because she matches your smile with a bright one of her own.

“Hi, baby,” she coos. “Someone’s still a little sleepy, huh?”

You let out a soft hum in response and bring your hands up to tug at her ridiculously expensive pants. It’s a habit you’ve developed over the course of her many, many, late nights at the office. Even though she always tells you to use your words, she can’t deny how cute it is when you get so soft and needy.

“Okay, okay.” She chuckles as her hands drift down to help you climb onto her lap. “Come here, sweetheart.”

You happily accept her help, letting out a soft little yip once you're fully situated. Kate looks down at you with the most breathtaking smile you've ever had the privilege of seeing.

"There you are, that's better, isn't it?"

Your nod of glee is almost instantaneous and it earns you another sweet chuckle. Her hand comes up to tangle in your hair, lovingly scratching your scalp and relishing the soft little sounds you make without even realizing.

Somehow, you end up wiggling enough to feel a certain hardness pressing up against you. It takes pretty much all your self control not to grind down harder against her and instead you whine while looking up at her.

"What?" She asks, her smile turned more and more into a smirk. "Do you not like your surprise? I've been thinking about giving you a treat all day, puppy."

It's not like you and Kate have never messed around in her office before but it felt different this time.

Maybe it was due to your lingering sleepiness or your need for her attention and affection. Or maybe you were simply needier than you thought. Whatever it is that's affecting you so much makes you want more of her.

The alpha's eyes darken as the scent of your growing arousal hits her nose. You've never met another person who is as reactive to smells as she is. It's as overwhelming as it is attractive, especially when her reactions are due to you.

Her hands suddenly move down to grip your waist and it's not until you feel her nails trying to dig into your skin through the fabric of your shirt that you realize you're grinding against the bulge in her pants. "Someone's getting ahead of themselves."

"Sorry," you mumble as a familiar warmth spreads across your cheeks.

"Don't apologize, baby. I love seeing how needy you are."

Her words make you grow needier which makes you feel suddenly shy. Kate's warm chuckle rings in your ears as you bury your face in her neck to hide your embarrassment. You were pretty used to how different the brunette was from the cruel alphas you'd known all your life but some things still caught you by surprise.

Such as her love for turning you into a shy, subby, little mess for her. You still weren't used to all of those things being good. Desirable, even.

You whine against her skin as her hands slip under your shirt, slowly exploring your stomach and the bite marks she'd left behind a few nights ago. Kate was insatiable, though, and going a few days without having her way with you was practically torture for her. Especially when you were around her all day, looking so adorable in her old, oversized shirt, and comfortably curled up in your puppy bed.

"You're too cute, sweetheart," she says, tilting her head back a little when she feels you nuzzling her. "You have no idea how hard it is for me to resist touching you all day."

"Then don't," you whisper.

You feel her laugh before you hear her. "Oh, that's naughty, pup. Is that something you'd like, hmm? Sitting on my lap while I'm in long, boring, meetings? Letting me touch you however I want?"

The idea causes you to moan, the sound coming out louder and needier than originally intended. It's not like it matters much, though, considering you two are the only people left in the office at this hour. And Kate loves breaking you out of your shell like this, watching you slowly let loose until you're helpless against your needy urges.

"Come on," she says, her hands sliding up your body until she's able to cup your breasts. "Use your words for me."

You instantly arch into her hands, the movement causing you to rub against the hardness in her pants again. "I would really like it."

"Good girl, darling." Her fingers play with your hardening nipples, softly tugging and pinching in the way that causes you to absolutely melt against her. "Go ahead, pup, I know what you want."

It's not exactly what you want but your hips instantly respond to her gentle command and you start grinding against her bulge. Even though you'd already desperate for more, the friction feels incredible against your soaked cunt.

"Someone's a little messy," she teases almost absentmindedly. It's obvious you're already too far gone to really comprehend what she's saying which only makes her want to tease you even more.

It took her more than a few months to get through your defenses enough for you to be this vulnerable with her. Your recovery process had been slow due to the amount of bad relationships and cruel alphas you'd been with in the past but she was slowly teaching you what it was like to be with someone who didn't care about stupid dominance hierarchies. She was just as much yours as you were hers.

You still don't have the matching mating marks to prove it, though, much to your dismay. Kate's still set on taking things slow and giving you time to recover before allowing you to make a commitment like that.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Kate asks, choosing that exact moment to thrust her hips up against you.

"Ah-" Your fingers grip the front of her shirt as your body shakes in response to her movements. "Good- Feels so good…please…need you."

"Yeah? You need me, darling?" Despite the teasing tone in her voice, her hand moves down to her pants.

Your brain doesn't fully register what she's doing through the fuzziness in your mind and you instantly try to grind against her hand. She chuckles which causes you to whine and rub your nose against her scent gland.

You know exactly what doing that does to her but you're not doing it to rile her up. Something that, considering her scent, might actually be impossible. Her pheromones are so strong and lust-filled that it makes your head spin but it's still not enough.

You need more.

Thankfully, Kate's just as impatient as you.

She uses one of her hands to lift you up enough for her to haphazardly pull her pants down. The potent smell of alpha musk hits your nose all at once and your whines grow louder.

"I'm right here, I've got you, baby." She shifts her hips and you gasp as the head of her cock parts your drenched folds.

"Please," you mumble, trying your best to stay still and patient.

"I know, just relax for me, okay?"

All you can do is hum in response and allow her to help you sink down onto her cock, gasping and moaning as she stretches you out. You doubt you'll ever get used to her size. To how well she fills you up without even trying.

"You're such a good girl, puppy." She groans as your walls clench around her. "Fuck, you're taking me so well, darling."

"Kate-"

A possessive growl builds up in her chest at the sound of you moaning her name. You can smell how aroused she is, how badly she needs to give in to her instincts and just take. And yet, despite her own needs, she moves painfully slow, giving you all the time you need to get used to her size.

All it takes is one shallow thrust before she's fully sheathed inside you. Her head drops down onto your shoulder, her loud pants filling the air between you for the next few seconds.

You appreciate how gentle she's being, especially since your neediness only serves to make you even more sensitive than usual, but you're already teetering on the edge of an orgasm.

You can't stop yourself from shifting against her when she doesn't move. She chuckles, the sound slightly muffled by your shoulder.

"Close already, sweetheart?" She asks, her voice far too sweet for the teasing words she speaks. "We've barely started."

"Please-" You don't care how desperate you sound, how borderline pathetic it is that you want to cum already, all you care about is her.

She shushes you as her hands grip your hips. "It's alright, just enjoy it. I'm right here with you."

"Uh-huh," you mutter, completely intoxicated by her scent and the possessive dominance that coats it.

"You're so cute like this."

The soft praise makes your walls clench around her and your both moan in response to the sensation. It's more than enough to spur her on and she wastes no time in helping you ride her, practically moving you up and down her length on her own.

You try to hold yourself up but then she starts thrusting up into you and you practically go limp in her arms. She notices, the rumble that emanates from her chest makes that perfectly clear, yet decides not to comment on it. Instead, she does what she can to pump out comforting pheromones as she continues to overwhelm you with pleasure.

"Doing so good for me, baby." One of her hands leaves your hips and snakes its way between your legs. She barely holds back a groan as her fingers meet your wetness. "Fuck, you're soaked. My poor puppy's so needy, aren't you, darling?"

"Yea-" Your words give out the second the tip of her fingers tease your sensitive clit. "Kate!"

Her touch is gentle despite the growing sloppiness of her thrusts. "I know, cum for me, don't hold back, pup."

The firm encouragement is all you need to let yourself go. All you can do is moan breathlessly and hold onto Kate like she's your rock. Which she is, in more ways than one.

The alpha in question holds herself back until she's sure you're lost in the throes of pleasure. She doesn't have to, you've told her that at least a dozen times, but she does it every time without fail. Your pleasure will always come first for her.

Something that only makes her orgasms all the more intense.

It quickly becomes impossible to tell whose moans are louder and before you know it, both of you are breathless, panting, and pressed up impossibly close.

"Holy shit," the brunette mumbles, her body shuddering through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"Mhmm," you reply absentmindedly.

Your exhaustion comes back with a vengeance as you recover in her arms. Kate obviously notices but no amount of soothing phenomes can win out over the smell of musk and sweat and clings to both of you.

"You did so good for me, you're always so good." Her fingers brush against your clit again and you instantly squirm against her.

"Kate…" you mumble against her neck.

"Too sensitive?" She asks even though she already knows the answer. "How about you take a nap and I'll wake you in a bit?"

You instantly huff. "What about going home?"

"In a little while," she promises, the hand on your hip coming up to rub your back. "I have a few things I need to finish up first."

"You work too much."

"You're the one who won't stop distracting me."

Your silence is just as effective at making her chuckle as your pout. She leans down to pepper kisses down your neck and across your shoulder.

"I'm kidding, baby. You know I love you."

"I know," you mumble as your sleepiness mixes with your shyness.

And it's true.

You might not be ready to say it, much less to be fully mated to her, but you know deep in your heart that she loves you.

Because you love her just as much.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop fic #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop smut #alpha kate bishop #kate bishop #hawkeye #hailee steinfeld #marvel fanfiction #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

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taegularities · 1 month ago

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ruin you: reflections | kth

Summary: Sometimes, you really refuse to truly leave, don't you?

⋙ pairing: Taehyung x female reader ⋙ rating: 18+ ⋙ genre: exes? au; angst, bit of fluff ⋙ warnings: rain and sadness, nostalgia, a phone call, the L-word, memories, sleeping jungkook cameo lol, this is original ry!oc and a!oc isn't in the picture yet – so basically a prequel to ruined and sequel to the ry finale hehe ⋙ word count: 4.3k ⋙ a/n: i know it's been years and we're possibly over this series now bc so much happened on taegularities dot com after it finished, buuuut.. i was listening to only love by pvris the other day and i ALWAYS think of ry!tae when the song comes on lmao. anyway, enjoy this little thing that i totally did not ever expect to drop in 2k25 :') come talk to me about it <3

⁂ part of the ruin you series

⁂ playlist 🎶

MASTERLIST | WIPS

This is barely what a promising spring Thursday is supposed to be.

The relentless winter lasted for ages already, and now it’s unseasonably cold, too. Not that Taehyung minds a harmless sprinkle, drizzling onto him as though to kiss his skin. But the coat is a little too thin and his umbrella nowhere near.

He could rush home and dive into some woollen blanket. Could fetch himself his favourite tea, sweetened with some honey, waiting for the last day of the week to break in. But the weekend is around the corner anyway, and he doesn’t leave on them much at all these days.

After work, at least, just like right now, he has an excuse to hide from his apartment for a while. It’s easier to walk around when already active; much more facile to carry himself back to this tiny park than when he’s at home, cosy and alone, tired and bitter.

Not everything is bad, though: Jungkook’s attitude towards Taehyung has long returned to what it used to be; albeit somehow, Taehyung can’t shake the feeling that in some sense, unspoken tension still lingers that neither of them will ever full be able to erase.

Taehyung smirks. Of course not.

You were in the absolute middle with them at far ends of the scale. Only, in truth, it wasn’t the perfect middle at all — you were leaning towards one decision so clearly. Turned left and right, but then chose the obvious direction.

For your sake, you settled on happiness, pure, unfiltered love that you knew and still know to be true. Taehyung wanted this for you.

But it’s ironic how you’re seemingly so whole, but left him stranded here in little shards that he glued together as if reuniting estranged puzzle pieces. And the ones he still hasn’t found, you took with you.

He wonders.

What do you do with them? Store them in your memory, reliving moments, or are they hidden somewhere in the back of your thoughts, not enjoying the relevance that you still so obviously do in his head?

Taehyung doesn’t move just yet. It’ll get colder once it’s dark, and the early April spring weather will do whatever it wants to. It won’t be gentle to him today, he reckons.

But he still stays seated here, just to take in the world, breathe in the breeze. His apartment is warm but stuffy. A blissful sanctuary that’s surrounded by invisible bars sometimes. He doesn’t know how to feel about this.

It’s hard to figure out emotions anyway.

He’s over a ton, but not quite all of it. A number of all that occurred still wreaks havoc in his brain, still a burning chaos and source of damned ruination. He doesn’t understand how to feel about most of his days.

And the wind, the dense grey clouds. The rain.

Or the feeling of the drops landing on his hand, running down his thumb when he turns his palm to the sky and it catches the rain. With each second, the pace picks up a bit more, and more and more raindrops touch his skin.

His long digits curl in; strands of his hair stick to his forehead and water drips off his nose and chin. Eyes close. He knew it’d be pouring, but he forgot how intense the universe can actually get. This is quite dramatic.

It’s been a while since it rained like this, too. It did a lot in his apartment, too.

He breathes in, lifting his head for a second, up to the sky and to the falling shower. The colours are far from vibrant and optimistic, but they don’t feel as hopeless as they could be. Maybe nature doesn’t mean to feel sad to others.

Or maybe because there are worse places to be. Right? Wait, why?

Because they hurt less? No, probably not. The pain sits in the middle of his chest, not just at a particular location. Or maybe…

Maybe this is a moment that he can somewhat learn to cherish because of the fingers slowly opening his own. Suddenly but carefully touching his palm. That’s strange, isn’t it?

Would it be weirder if it was a stranger? Or is it crazier that it’s somebody entirely else when he lifts his eyelids again, staring down to his hand and to what grazes him. To who grazes him.

He could swear you weren’t here before. Your smiling, soaking wet self, head tilting when he comes to look at you. The silver shines into his eyes, and he remembers. Remembers the earrings you’d always wear, sporting them when the three of you found a pleasant café or spent your evening bickering over ludo.

Taehyung looks at you. Looks at you carefully, just to ensure it’s you. You’re timid at first; this is your expression, alright. So distinctively you. How your eyes drift down when he gulps; and how you blink, your smile a tiny bit unsure.

Taehyung remains as mute as he hates to be, and eventually, you start with, “Hi.”

It takes another second of embarrassing shock. Then, “Hey… hey.”

He uprights himself, shifting on his spot, his coat stuck beneath him. Staring at the hand, he never closes his fingers around your warm skin; no matter how tempting, it’d be wrong, wouldn’t it?

So what are you doing? Why are you doing it; where did you appear from? It has been a while since he basked in your presence at all… so what’s going on?

“I, uh… I was,” you start, dampening your already glistening lips; he misses them like a bitch, “out and saw you here.” You look around; the area is blurred to Taehyung. “What are you doing?”

“…What are you doing?” Taehyung doesn’t mean to blurt it out like this, but his tongue doesn’t practice restraint at all. He snaps back into the moment, feet firm on the ground. Clearing his throat, he tells you, “It’s pouring.”

“So it is. But I’m not made of sugar.”

“You will get a cold.”

You roll your eyes. The audacity; the corner of his lips twitches up. “You’re not immune to these things either, you know, Tae? Being sick will hurt you, too.”

Now he surrenders; snickers a bit. Slick trait of yours, being this charming without realising it. Guess that has always made you desirable to others; you make people feel comfortable.

And it’s torture, how you’re still you. When he knew you better, you’d blabber such things, too. How sickness aches, how the cold leads to heat. You’d be surprised if you knew just how sick he’s been, and just how much the million passed seconds hurt.

God, if the flicker of guilt didn’t spark in him, he’d probably tread through this moment easier, too, relish the rush of hormones speeding through him. This is odd. Not what he expected from your first conversation after so long.

Breathing out an unsuspicious sigh, he finally pulls his hand back a little, just for the sake of appearing natural, and then asks, “How have you been?”

You give yourself a moment to ponder. A strange expression, as if you’re somewhat bewildered. As if your body isn’t yours and as if you’ve beamed in from another reality, differing from whatever you’re experiencing now.

Somehow, you look just slightly like a stranger now, and skilled, you dodge the question like one, too, when you blurt without a notice, “If… I told you that I was sorry… and that I wanted this to be forever—”

What?

He’s gone miles with you; way too far to ever justify. You were the one to pull away. So why is it that you’re this brave now? As if having come to a realisation that you’re attempting to share; that he is gradually trying to duck from.

“Don’t.”

The word leaves him in a whisper, cost him the day’s leftover energy. But you shake your head, gripping his hand again, and insist, “Please let me say it.”

He thinks you’re about to break, water collecting; and a moment later, strangely, your eyebrows kiss. Match his assumption. You utter, just quietly, “I wanted it to be forever… It’s dumb to say that because I can’t have two of these.” You wait again. Bring up a hand, cup his cheek until he meets your damp eyes. “And I’m sorry.”

Sorry… you’re sorry. He is, too. He doesn’t know what for. Or maybe he does — but he has apologised. He has made peace with his mistakes, even if not with the goddamn distance.

So this is… excruciating.

And for a moment, the emotions heighten, as if he’s hyper aware of what you’re feeling. A weird sadness floods him, mixed with his own. He’s on the opposite side of this misery, trapped in something entirely different than you.

But.

He still sees your heart so clearly, as if he was holding it, reading inscriptions. Scars. And he can almost touch, almost imagine the affection you house for him so vividly. What did you? Objectify your feelings and hand them to him?

Maybe something occurred; something celestial, a change in the world. Because he could swear he can read your mind — because you seem to cooperate with each of his thoughts. With how you touch his chin next, eyes glassy. Or how you inhale, as if tormented by something.

He can foresee it all before you do it. Maybe he’s come to know you this well. But the realisation that comes to him next is far more daunting.

Because, in these seconds of confusion, the surroundings changed and the moments changed, far too long but too short, too. Time feels nonlinear and nonexistent. How does he know what’s going to happen?

It’s easy to figure out, isn’t it? He should know. But how could he… even as a human being, a brain has the ability to trick him.

He knows because he’s telling his mind himself, isn’t he? Bending reality, deep in his unconsciousness. He isn’t here, and you aren’t here, and in truth, you’re just a figment of his imagination, a piece of what he conjures.

Just as you have been for the past months.

As the moment lingers and stretches, and then vanishes, Taehyung finds himself slowly pulling out of this fake memory. Wakes in the bed he’s probably already slept a dent into. And as clarity arrives, he realises that it isn’t Thursday, but Friday fading into Saturday morning.

He recalls thinking of little somethings before going to bed. How Thursdays were your favourite day of the week because they nearly introduced the weekend, and that Friday itself was never actually as relaxing as one might think due to all the traffic and the weekend chaos.

It was random yapping and it barely made any sense to Taehyung. But you had seemed to have it thought through, and you spoke about it confidently. Even when sometimes, you struggled to make your thoughts transparent effectively; but that was rare, really.

If anything, he was the one worse at this. You, as the experienced teacher in your trio, knew to win their hearts by a couple of thought out words only.

Honestly, today he thinks you liked Thursdays just because they were the shortest, most effortless days at school.

Taehyung sits up, half a smile at his face as he imagines your excitement about leaving the institution. You’d use many Thursday afternoons to indulge in hobbies or to ask Taehyung to join you for a round of chess because you both liked the game.

He was never competitive, but you were. But you both knew to entertain each other. Sometimes, you did feel like a mirror to him, as if he was staring at his reflection.

Both of you knew what to say; when to say it.

Taehyung ruffles through his messy hair. It’s gotten longer; changed along with the world. But why is this feeling in his stomach still the same? Why is he still trying to relive what was? He should probably set his priorities straight; his brain is a mischievous traitor.

As he clicks his tongue, light breaks through the dark night. The phone on his nightstand beams when a random notification chimes. He grabs it, sighs at the G-Mail thing leading to some Reddit post. Then, checks the time.

Or, passes some time. He doesn’t know yet; he won’t fall asleep right away. Might scroll for a bit.

Cruel, how he’s here thinking of you, all weird and still nostalgic, and you’re probably sound asleep. Dreaming about anything but him.

At least that’s what he’d suppose now. You don’t ever message him, never call. He’s aware that you still have his number, and that he hasn’t deleted yours, either. Both of you still follow each other on social media, too.

Just today, you posted a picture of a cat, nestled in some woman’s arms as your hand petted it. The stranger was mentioned in a corner; probably a coworker. Taehyung didn’t check. He feels creepy enough as it is.

But you still see his rare stories as well; when he decides to upload an orange sunset or reposts his friends’ stuff. These days barely ever occur anymore, but whenever they do, you see them.

Yet, no comment. No reaction. Just looking quietly, just like he does.

He wonders. If it was him who called or said hi, would you respond? You have turned into a fleeting and transient ghost of the past — but would you become a temporary presence if he reached out?

If he… if he scrolled down to your name and pressed the call button right now, would you…

No.

If he gave in now, you’d probably not even notice, and he’d interpret it as you ignoring him. And he’d overthink. It’d backfire. And…

But…

Fuck.

Damn the human mind. Taehyung questions — is it a common problem? A painfully humane one, wanting ideas to be realised once they emerge? Stupid compulsive urge. Why? So he can sleep?

No, probably not. It’s because Taehyung knows he has nothing to lose. Nothing to regret. What more could still happen?

You aren’t his and you never will be.

So his thumb slides across the bright screen, scouring his contacts until he finds you there, collecting dust but never forgotten.

Don’t do it.

The reasonable voice of sanity isn’t wrong, of course, but when has he ever been sane anyway? Didn’t the two of you meet because he was as unhinged as could be? In hindsight, he wishes he could have made a different first impression, and not what he did.

What did you see in him at that moment? When you stepped in, into a room that barely seemed normal. What kind of person was he to you?

Was, is, could and would and should have,

If and when and might.

Nothing to lose now.

Fuck it.

He pushes his thumb onto your name and then the call symbol, phone pressing to his ear with shut eyes and teeth worrying his full lower lip. He’s an idiot, he knows. Still hung up on something like this, as if he never learned at all.

You were a lesson enough, so why is he…

Shit…

The call is going through. He might be waking you. Or you might not notice. And perhaps Jungkoo—

Shit, shit. Jungkook.

Why didn’t he think of the main damn reason you left at all? If this doesn’t disturb your nightly peace, Jungkook might register it. Is Taehyung screwing up again?

He brings his phone to his lap, ogling at the screen, thumb already floating over the button to hang up again. Because he can’t do this to you and himself and his best friend, so he should—

“Hey?”

The ringing stops; your voice nearly gives him a heart attack. A shiver inundates his entire body, the hammering beneath his chest aggressive and loud. And the dense fog… it’s shrouding his mind.

He listens in closely, wondering whether he hallucinated your voice, whether it was as unreal as his dream. But a moment later, he hears you again, his name penetrating the silence like a knife, “Tae?”

You sound groggy. He’s heard this very tone so many times before. He musters up whatever courage’s left in him and responds, “Hi.”

“…Is something wrong?” you immediately ask. “Are you okay?”

Of course that’d be your initial reaction. The first conversation after all this time, in the dead of the night. Why would he call if not for a favour or when in absolute need? But it’s neither, is it? This is something entirely else and there is no proper word for it.

Well, stupidity, perhaps.

“No,” he answers, “I just—” His mind is befuddled, no clear thought. He isn’t quite sure what he wants to say; maybe he should’ve prepared a script, something with reason and justification. Instead, he babbles, “I never got to tell you.”

Silence again.

He hears some shifting on the other end and a slight groan, still yours and not Jungkook’s. There are quiet steps, as if you’re distancing yourself from your sleeping boyfriend, to be able to listen to Taehyung’s thoughts properly.

Knowing something is up. Taehyung knows anyone would, but he can’t help but think of the mirror again.

A door opens, and then, a door closes. You whisper, “Wait,” before you let out a breath, probably, surely plumping onto the couch he still knows. ��Taehyung…”

“Yes.”

“What’s wrong?”

“…Where’s Jungkook.”

You clear your throat; the sofa shifts, and you sound more relaxed, as if you leaned back. You tell him, “In the bedroom. I stepped out for a sec.” Pause; and then again, “What’s wrong?”

“I was thinking of you and,” he lowers his head, the stillness between you a burning pain, “and I wanted to say hi.”

You laugh a little, followed by a hearty yawn. But you’re not bored, just exhausted. Still here, still jesting when you ask, “At,” another break in speech, “half past three, huh?”

“Hey, I don’t choose what my brain chooses to dream of.”

You stop laughing. The recurring silence fills your conversation; both of you seem to be arranging your thoughts, necessarily so after this long. Then, you state rather than ask, “You dreamed of me.”

“Yeah…”

“Was it…” you start, but then exhale, trying again, “What was it? A memory?”

“No… not really.”

“Something familiar?” He hears you shifting, your voice clearer. Sweet and tender. “I reckoned that’s what you… never got to tell me?”

“No… no, it was nothing,” Taehyung lies. “There was just rain. Us talking.” And then, some truth, “We apologised.”

You wait, voicing a sound of interruption and uncertainty, before you inquire, “Why would you apologise?”

“Because… it’s not like the time we had was so stress-free.” Taehyung stares up to the ceiling, leaning forward with a hand rubbing his forehead. “Maybe that’s what I needed to tell you. Apologise for what I did to you.”

“You… you didn’t do anything to me. I had fun, Tae,” you assure, your voice defeated. He can imagine what you look like; fallen face, droopy eyes, beautiful lips suggesting grief. “I don’t blame you for anything, you know? Just… not everything lasts. And it’s not your fault.”

“Maybe not everything is supposed to last.”

You don’t say anything, and he takes a deep breath. He knows you’d agree if you weren’t so cautious still, cherry picking your responses. And as you think it through, he imagines you looking out of the window; so he does, too.

His eyelids are heavy with sleep, and he’s so incredibly sorry that he’s robbing you of the sleep you love so much as well. But it’s not just him drowning in this moment, he thinks. Because you keep the words flowing, eventually ask, “How have you been?”

“I… I’m fine.” Closest to what’s true. At least in the grand picture, physically and all. He’s not dying, doesn’t feel like he is anymore. “Living.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s been alright,” he fiddles with his blanket, a stray thread, plays with his thoughts. “And you?”

“I’m good, too.”

“Good. I’d be mad if you weren’t,” he adds quietly, painfully uncontrolled, “I didn’t let you go for nothing.”

He squints his eyes shut, trapping his lip between his teeth. Maybe he should be more careful. He resists the urge to groan over his idiocy when you respond, “Yeah…”

But it doesn’t end here, does it? Taehyung might already be a fool for saying all these words in this constellation at all; but the dumb courage won’t falter yet. He reminds himself… nothing to regret anymore…

“Can I ask you something?” he lets out. “I might not want to hear the answer, but I think I will hate not doing it, too.”

You sound more unsure by the minute. Perhaps he’s putting you in a situation you’re not too fond of — but you’re an honest soul. If you wanted to leave, he knows you would. Instead, you say, “…Yeah.”

Now or never. One, two, three. Three, two, one.

Taehyung gulps and then—

“Did you ever love me?”

Your answer is, as expected, not immediate. In fact, you don’t say much at all, leaving the conversation wordless for a moment. It takes patience and sucking in some more oxygen until you finally mutter—

“Maybe.”

The sting is sharp and fiery, and he curls the hand on his forehead into a fist. It remains there, eyes still closed, as if to press against the hot head and calm the overwhelmed brain behind it. It’s so fiercely hurting over what could have been.

And the guilt pricking steps in immediately, too, thinking of the man in the other room at your place; how Taehyung never wishes him ill and how he is still selfish enough right now to wish you had ended up being his.

“Maybe, yeah?” he then asks.

“I wasn’t sure back then,” you tell him, still nearly whispering. “A ton was going on and now…”

“You’ve forgotten what it felt like.”

“No. I don’t think that’s it. And I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.” Taehyung sighs in defeat, hardening his jaw. Fuck. “You don’t seem to understand what you meant to me. But. I’m not at that spot anymore, so I can’t tell you without feeling like I’m… possibly distorting what it truly was.”

“Whatever it was,” Taehyung says, “he was bigger anyway. And I understand, you know? I do.”

“I… If he wasn’t,” you start, slowly, as if you’re not actually keen on saying what you have to say. But as Taehyung already deducted once more — honest soul. “I would’ve chosen differently.”

Yet another pause. Taehyung only nods, though you can’t see any of his movements, any of his expressions. You continue, “Maybe I’ll always feel some of what I used to for you, but— leaving him will never feel right. Jungkook is what I’ve always known.”

“I know,” Taehyung immediately chimes in; how much more can he hear? He asked for it, so when will he learn? “I know he is. It shouldn’t be any other way.”

And he means it. Wishing otherwise doesn’t erase his respect for him, does it? You mumble another, “Yeah,” before Taehyung adds, “It was nice hearing from you again.”

“You too, Tae.”

“Take care of yourself. I’m sorry for waking you up so late.”

“It’s okay.” You sniffle, but you’re not crying as you were in his dream. Just a habit, or an emotional toll. But you’re so achingly kind; how does one forget about you when you say things like, “It was important to you. So it’s okay.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung lets go of the jogger’s loose thread, fist opening as he says, “And hey. Do tell Jungkook about this.”

“Oh… yeah. Somehow I thought you’d tell me not to.”

“Really?”

Taehyung smiles. There was a time when he was in love and evil enough to make the wrong decision. But he knows that at his core, he’s good, and that you wouldn’t have fallen for him if he wasn’t. He needs to live by this very goodness.

He asks, “So, would you’ve kept this from him?”

You think. Only for a short second before you admit, “No. Because he should know. And because this isn’t anything wrong. Him not knowing would feel wrong, though.”

“Exactly. I’m no different, you know? I’m offended you wouldn’t think a bit better of me.”

You laugh again, a lovely sound. Just the right thing to end the day by. And as your snicker ebbs down, you find your voice again, gentle though it breaks his heart, “Good night, Tae.”

That’s it, then. Time to truly end the story.

“Good night.”

Another whisper from the other side, “Night.”

And then, you’re gone.

As soon as your voice disappears, the wild beating of his heart does, too. But not because the nervousness passes; rather, because it gives way to a void. The farewell in your last word opened it immediately, quickly.

One damn word, so many messages. Wishing him the best, as if permitting him a better future. Maybe you’re hopeful for him. For something lying ahead that he’s unaware of still. He doesn’t know.

For now, all he understands is that he’s alone, and that the moment the connection cut, the vacant space in his chest grew to stay for a bit. But…

Another Saturday has arrived, sunrise not too far.

After all the pain, he’s still gotten here. And he’ll remain to witness many more of these warm weekends, time speeding up once the wounds disappear. Maybe someday.

Maybe someday, his days will stop resembling survival and give way to sweetness, a remedy once more.

this was unedited; i'll do so tmrw. so if there were words missing and stuff, let me know :') i hope you read and liked it, especially if you were around for the ride that ry was back then. if not, then thank you still for being here <3 i just needed to get this out of my system either way, even if nobody read it at all lol. i still cherish them a lot sigh

come and chat with me about literally anything, i'll be thrilled <3

#taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung x you #bts x you #bts x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenario #taehyung #taehyung imagines #taehyung fanfic #bts fic

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waynes-multiverse · 4 months ago

Text

Lover – Part 1

Series Summary: Free from his past, Ben’s trying to move on and find a little drop of happiness in this new world. But when he finally holds everything he ever wanted in his hands, it threatens to slip through the cracks, and he has to fight one final time with everything he’s got to keep it.

🫡 Catch up here! Sequel to Rehab & Video Games.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ due to language & mature themes, established relationship, Soldier Boy x wife!reader, angst, discussions of divorce, Dad!Soldier Boy, human!Soldier Boy, SB trying to be an ally (trust me it's a warning lol), fluff, (the beginnings of) smut

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Sid and Nancy are back to finally get their happy end for Valentine's 💕 The road might be a little bumpy until then, but we'll get there 😉

Disclaimer: This is a sequel story. The reader and Soldier Boy met at a rehab facility in 2025 after both being cured of Compound V. Reader became a supe again at the end of the series and is still currently a supe with acidic powers. Seriously guys, catch up with the links above. I can't explain everything... 😝

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 1: Lovelorn

The crystalline water of the small lake is peaceful, a calm Ben appreciates as he sits on the dock, his bow legs hanging down and feet almost touching the perfectly still surface. But underneath the serenity roars a thundering storm, his mind reeling like the fishing pole in his grasp without an end in sight.

“Fuck that! Fuck all of that shit, Y/N! I fucking love you. I’m sick and tired of those games. How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I miss you, huh? I don’t wanna do this anymore. I don’t wanna call you and hope you have time to pick up. I don’t wanna text you and wait hours for a fucking answer. I don’t wanna fuck you through a dumbass screen. I miss you. I miss my wife. I miss actual goddamn sex, for fuck’s sake!”

“I know. I miss all of that, too. Maybe it’s time. Maybe we should finally talk about it.”

“Talk about what?”

“Divorce.”

Remembering the word brings forth another surge of paralyzing anger. His jaw clenches, the grip around the pole tightening. He’s sure even the fish can feel his fury since they refuse to bite this evening. A flicker of sunlight that reflects on the water’s surface then hits his green eyes, flashes of the haunting night flowing freely into his mind.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You wanna fucking divorce me?!”

“Ben, just listen–“

“No, you fucking listen! You’re my fucking wife, and you’re not fucking leaving me! You understand? Till death do us part, sweetheart, and I fucking mean it.”

Ben’s heart twinges at the memory. He recalls how she startled at his threat, not knowing he regretted those words as soon as he said them. He remembers how her breath halted, how her hands jittered, and how the tears brimmed in her eyes.

“Ben, I just want you to be happy. You’re supposed to have a family. Everything you ever wanted…”

“So were you. You’re supposed to be fucking here. With me. And the kid. We’re supposed to do this fucking thing together. Remember?”

“But I can’t!”

“Can’t or don’t fucking want to, huh?”

“Ben, I don’t wanna keep you trapped. This way, you can find someone new. Someone who can give you want you want.”

“You don’t fucking get it, do you? No one can give me want I fucking want but you. I wanna fucking be with you!”

“Ben…”

“No, you know what? You wanna fucking leave me like all the others, go fucking right ahead!”

“Ben–“

“You want me to fuck someone else so badly? Be fucking happy? Fucking fine! Consider your wish granted, wifey. Guess, I’m going out tonight and fuck some other slut. Who knows, maybe I’ll fucking knock her up, too! Get a real fucking kid…”

“Ben!”

“Fuck you, my love!”

Ben doesn’t even remember if he hung up before he flung the phone against wall. All he knows is that he had to get a new one the next morning.

And moreover, he did go out that very same night. He called the neighbor, Mrs. Brooks – a fine, older widow in her 70s – and asked her to keep an eye on the kid while he went to the local watering hole. She was the kid’s usual babysitter and very fond of both him and the little slugger. She was also constantly flirting with him. It was only too bad Ben couldn’t get her pregnant…

At the bar, he then met Cynthia – a petite redhead with a huge rack, a perfectly shaped ass, and ideal child-bearing hips in a tight, glittery, emerald dress. It shone like a neon sign.

He bought her three drinks, and she constantly touched his arm as he whispered dirty things into her ear. He could’ve easily persuaded her to come to the dingy pub’s bathroom with him, where he’d rail her from behind till she saw fucking stars and was dripping his cum. But the scrape of her nails against his skin caused him to shudder over and over again – not in the good way – and he cursed himself for fucking missing his wife. He also remembered how shitty he'd felt the last time he had executed similar revenge plans…

This wouldn’t do, so he ditched the floozy there on the spot and returned to an empty house, angrier and more frustrated than before.

Ben fucking hates everything and everyone.

“Dad, look! I got it on by myself,” his six-year-old announces and holds up both hook and worm with a proud and wide grin to show him.

Ben forces a smile to his lips. “Good job, buddy.”

He tries his best to hide his envenomed mood from his son. He recalls how he always hated it when his own father took his personal shit out on him. Ben vows to do better, although the focus should really be on the term trying.

He fails more often than not.

Another regret of that night trickles into his mind then, one that haunts and tortures him more than the other hateful things he’s spewed.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll fucking knock her up, too! Get a real fucking kid…”

Sure, in the beginning, Ben thought he’d never really view the kid as his own flesh and blood, but he would’ve gone along with it for her. Y/N once called them a family of misfits – forgotten and lost souls cast out by the rest of society. But they’d always have each other and that was what counted.

Where the fuck is she now, though?

When she didn’t come with them to start their new life, Ben pretty much wrote the whole ‘found family’ bullshit off as a lost cause. He’d never get along with the kid, he was constantly frustrated by the little rascal’s shenanigans and outbursts, all the while his long-distance wife urged him to be patient over a fucking phone.

Ben’s felt fucking alone most days.

However, with a firm hand, a level head, and some old-school discipline, Ben’s managed the impossible and set the kid on the right track. Now, little Ben’s staying out of playground trouble, being nice to his teachers, and getting straight-As.

Alright, fine…

Out of sheer boredom and not because he was desperate, Ben might have read those stupid parenting books Y/N got him for Christmas: The Gentle Parenting Book, Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child, and Parenting from the Inside Out.

Bunch of sissy bullshit if you ask Ben. He wanted a fucking Rolex under the tree and not coded messages wrapped in nice paper. And moreover, he’ll never admit that hogwash has actually helped, even if the Russians take him and torture him for another forty years.

It’s been a fucking struggle, but the boy’s grown on him. And in all honesty, the kid probably resembles him more than the firstborn who shares his bloodline. Sometimes, Ben even (quietly) thinks it’s a fucking good thing the kid doesn’t have an ounce of his DNA.

So, now they go camping and fishing together. They go to the bowling alley, the arcade, and to local high school football games. Ben tries to teach the boy what he knows (to the best of his abilities). And a few weeks ago, the kid suddenly started to call him the D-word. Y/N, on the other hand, has received the M-word pretty instantly – and she’s a fucking great mother, even from afar.

And at first, Ben surely considered it fucking weird since the kid isn’t really his, but, well, the word’s grown on him as much as the boy himself.

Ben still feels fucking guilty for even merely suggesting he wasn’t his real son – because he is, and he hopes the kid never finds out he ever uttered those words in the first place.

The former supe sighs internally. What has she fucking done to him? He wouldn’t mind the change as much if he got to keep the reward…

His mind flickers with a glimmer of an idea when the fading sunlight hits the shimmering veil again. The solution to everything, one little blue vial, is hidden right underneath the wooden floorboards of his bedroom. He’s thought about it a lot.

He could be with her. She wouldn’t have to be scared to hurt him. He could be someone again. Nothing could break him anymore.

Sometimes, that shit was harder to quit than fucking drugs. No wonder they needed a whole-ass rehab for it.

Ben’s keeping it for emergencies, though. In case he needs to protect her – or his family, his kid. In case that Neuman cunt turns on her because he surely doesn’t trust that booger-brain bitch. He keeps it in case he feels weak.

He also keeps a vial of the cure in case she changes her mind and takes it after all. But sometimes he’s scared to ask or push too hard because it very likely would kill her, and he couldn’t fucking live with that.

Because of what? Because he’s being a whiny pussy who wants to risk his wife’s life over a fucking kiss? A fuck?

It sounds insane. He doesn’t want this.

She’s more than his wife, too. She’s his fucking best friend and the only one he’s ever had. Maybe that’s why it hurts so fucking much. How could she even think for a second he’d rather fucking leave and do this with some fucking stranger?

Doesn’t she believe he’s changed? Not even her? Who else is there, then?

“Dad?” His son blinks at him with that look he can’t say no to. Why the fuck are children always doing that? “Can we order pizza? I don’t think the fish are biting.”

“I think you’re right. And hey, I can always go for pizza. Great idea, buddy,” Ben says and can see the kid brighten up at his words. He’d always wanted his father to call him “buddy” or “slugger” – or something other than a fucking disappointment.

What about the kid? pops into his mind. If he takes Compound V again, what happens to his son? What if he becomes one of the monsters Ben’s trying to protect him from? He knows all too well how that shit fucked with his mind the first time around. It’s not as easy.

“Hey.”

Ben’s heart stills like the water in front of him as the soft melody of her voice reaches his ears. He presses his eyes shut as the kid ditches his fishing pole on the dock and dives straight into her waiting arms.

“Mommy!”

“Hey, buddy, I missed you.” She smiles and tousles his hair, but her eyes drift to the far end of the dock where her husband still sits and doesn’t bother to even face her. “I got a surprise for you inside in the kitchen, Benny. You wanna go run ahead and check it out? Your dad and I will join you soon.”

“Cool! Awesome! See ya!”

Their son bolts so fast toward the house, Y/N’s surprised he doesn’t stumble in the grass once. She then lets out a sigh when her attention turns back to her sulking husband.

“You’re gonna acknowledge me at all or just ignore me for the rest of your life?” she prompts, a bit of venom on her tongue.

Yes, she knows her words hurt him, even though they were said with the best intentions. She knows she’s failing as a wife and mother. She knows they both deserve better. She just wanted him to have the option.

However, she can’t say his words haven’t hurt her, too. And it hurt even more when he ignored her for two weeks straight, kept her from their son, and never returned any of her calls or messages.

She knows Ben’s a big man-child, though. Rehab didn’t entirely fix that.

“Not sure yet,” he finally answers but still doesn’t even gift her a glance over his broad and brooding shoulder.

“Oh, it speaks.” She can’t help the bits of sarcasm but is aware she has to tread carefully now. “You’ve been ignoring me for two weeks.”

“Don’t have much to fucking say to you…” Ben grabs a bottle of beer from the cooler next to him, twists it open, and occupies his mouth with a gulp before he says something else he regrets. “‘Sides, my phone broke. Got a new one.”

“Something you usually tell your wife,” she mutters bitterly under her breath.

“Yeah, but not you’re fucking ex-wife,” he retorts.

“We’re still married.”

“Does it fucking matter?” Ben counters and takes another sip.

“I hope it does,” she mumbles and sighs once more, pocketing her hands in her jacket. It’s gotten cold outside – much like their marriage. “Guess that means you haven’t seen my press conference this morning?”

“Nope. Don’t fucking care,” Ben scoffs. He sounds more than a little bitter before his raspy voice ramps up with pettiness. “Already got a new piece of ass. Better fuck than you ever were. Sorry, doll.”

Y/N purses her lips, her head bobbing when he throws the dagger that aims for her heart. He could’ve still been Soldier Boy, and she would’ve believed him. And somehow, she isn’t surprised by his reaction, which really is the sad part. Her heart floods with hurt; her mind berates him and calls him every goddamn name in the book she’s ever learned from him.

Broken promises – that is the theme of their marriage.

Instead of pouring oil into the fire, however, she decides to stay calm. They’ve been through so much together. She’s already forgiven him once, she can do it again.

No one’s perfect. Not her. Not him. Especially him.

“I resigned this morning.”

Yup. Ben feels immediate regret for the lie he’s told.

He’s so stumped by her words, his head finally twists over his shoulder with wide eyes and a raised brow. Their gazes meet for the first time, and Ben is reminded why he had avoided eye contact.

She is breathtakingly beautiful.

“Look, uhm… I know this is my fault,” she starts and swallows thickly. Her eyes are so focused on the tips of her boots, she doesn’t even notice he has gotten up from his spot and is strolling closer to her. “I shouldn’t have said it. Not over the phone, not like this. I don’t wanna divorce you, okay? I don’t wanna fucking leave you. I love you, even when you drive me nuts, which you do quite a lot… But the point is – I want this with you. I’ve always wanted this with you… I’ve been working really hard to control my powers and doing meditations, and Vicky even got me a trainer… I want this to work, ok–“

She’s cut off by his lips on hers. His massive hands cup her entire face and hold her so close to him, she’s not sure they’re not melting into one person altogether. He kisses her so deeply as if he hasn’t done it in ages, which he hasn’t.

And sure, surprising her is probably not the smartest idea, considering she could accidentally kill him. But he’s always lived for a good adrenaline rush.

“Ben!” she gasps, eyes wide. But she doesn’t pull away like she usually does. She even keeps her palms placed on his beating heart. She giggles a little at his eagerness and is positively baffled by his reaction. It patches the wounds on her heart a bit.

“I fucking lied, okay? It’s not true. I didn’t-… There’s no one else, alright?” he assures her quickly, thumb brushing her glowing cheeks. “You believe me?”

He’s almost nervous that she won’t. He can’t even blame her, considering his track record. But to his relief, her lips rise to a soft smile.

“I do,” she replies, causing his heart to downright soar. “Don’t ask me why, because I have no fucking idea, but I do.”

Ben smacks his lips. There’s more weighing on his crumpled, old, and heavy heart. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said that night too, alright? I would never hurt you, I swear.”

She nods in his hands. “I know. Don’t worry, okay? Sometimes we say things we don’t mean. Doesn’t make them true. You know I’m kinda the queen of that,” she says and offers him a wry smile.

Ben then pulls her to his lips and kisses her – feverishly and fervently. This time, he even dares to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands graciously exploring her curves that mold perfectly to his frame. When he generously palms and squeezes her buttcheeks, she breaks from the kiss with a laugh.

“Slow down, Casanova,” she says, giggling, her cheeks blushing and hurting furiously. “Take it easy on me, alright? Baby steps.”

“Not even a little sorry.” He chuckles quite cheekily and reluctantly lets her go but stays close. “So, you quit? What about the deal? What did the bitch say?”

“Well, good things happen when you’re nice to people and actually make friends,” she says with a mischievous smile that’s supposed to hide the lecture. But Ben knows there’s one somewhere in there. “Vicky just wants me to be happy, so she reluctantly let me go because I’m still an awesome Chief of Staff. And granted, she doesn’t necessarily understand why my happiness includes you, but she’s a great friend, so…”

Ben frowns slightly at her words but tries not to take too much offense. His wife is here, and that’s all that counts. But: Fuck that cock-juggling thunder cunt…

“You’re staying? For good now?” he checks, not trusting the peace entirely. When could he ever?

“I’m staying for good,” she confirms, smiling brightly. “Unless you don’t want me t–“

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” He kisses her faster than her mouth can move, hot and rough. As he slowly draws back, his nose brushes hers, and he looks deeply into her eyes. “I’m gonna show you how much I want you tonight.”

“Ben, I told you – baby steps,” she reminds him gently but still giggles when he continues to tease her, beard tickling the spot behind her ear.

“I promise I steer clear of the home runs, but I will make it to third base, my love,” he all but swears and places a wet kiss on her forehead. “Now, let’s get inside before the kid burns the house down…”

Y/N laughs as she takes his hand, sauntering back to their home together as the sun sets behind them.

“Mom, you wanna come to a football game with us tonight?” her son asks as he eagerly shuffles his breakfast into his mouth.

The boy hasn’t left her side since she’s come home last night, even sneaking into their bed to cuddle with her – a little to Ben’s chagrin. But after a few scolding looks from his wife, he relented to sharing the attention.

She swears she has two children sometimes…

“Yeah, I’d love to,” she agrees with a wide smile. Little things like that are all she’s ever wanted.

Ben can tell she’s moved because there are tears stinging her eyes again. He thinks they might be a permanent addition at this point, considering they haven’t disappeared since she came home.

“Just a heads up, though, the football coach is a twink,” Ben informs her and actually believes it’s helpful.

Y/N furrows her brow and tilts her head. “Ben, what–“

“Look, I don’t mean any offense by it. The guy’s… alright,” Ben says and clearly struggles to get the words out. “His plays are good. I even think he can get the team to state this year.”

“Wow, high praise,” she comments and hides an amused smile behind her coffee mug. It might not seem like much, but it’s the most acceptance he’s ever shown someone from the LGBTQ community.

“Oh, yeah, I’m a full ally now.” He grins broadly. “Even the lesbians said so.”

“What lesbians?”

“Alec’s parents,” he replies as if it’s obvious, referring to their son’s best friend in school.

“You never said they were lesbians,” she points out, the wrinkles on her brow deepening.

“Sure, I did.”

“No, you said Alec’s parents were a ‘hot blonde’ and some ‘burly dude.’”

“Yeah.” He shrugs simply. “And the burly dude turned out to be a woman. Took me a while to realize, though. Was hard to find boobs under that flannel…”

“Alright, and I think that is enough grown-up talk around the kid for now,” she says, shaking her head in amusement.

“I don’t mind,” Benny quips from his chair and grins slyly at his parents.

“Uh-huh, keep eating your breakfast,” she says and ruffles his hair as she gets up from her seat by the island next to him.

They spend the whole day together, taking Benny to the batting cage at the park and the food court at the mall before attending a high school football game. As they return home late that night, the kid is so exhausted he falls right into his bed and passes out, and Ben hopes to God he goddamn stays there for the rest of the night.

He has great plans for his wife tonight.

“Alone at last,” Y/N says as she slings her arms around his neck and kisses him deeply as she sways in his embrace in the living room, his large hands resting perfeclty on her hips.

“You can say that again,” Ben huffs, but there’s amusement in his voice.

“Still want ten kids?” she teases. His brow raises comically at her words, making her giggle.

“Maybe three are enough,” he admits. Before, he never thought kids could be that much work. He also thought he wouldn’t be as involved in… well, raising them. “Or two. Maybe just one more…”

She laughs, throwing her head back. “Yeah, two sounds nice.”

“Wanna get working on one right now?” Ben suggests with his best flirty smile and a wag of his brows but can quickly see her reluctance and cups her cheeks, lifting her gaze to him. “We’ll go as slow as you need to, alright? But I believe in you. I know you got this shit under control.”

For a heartbeat, she licks her lips in contemplation, and Ben already thinks it’s a lost cause, but then she actually nods.

“Okay,” she agrees and stretches on tiptoes to tentatively catch his upper lip between her soft, plush pillows. Her fingers crawl up his jaw, card through his beard. “But you’re gonna have to let me be in control if you don’t want me to kill you.”

Ben only entertains it with a cheeky smile. “Well, might be fun for a change,” he says and lifts her back to his lips with a finger under her chin.

He takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom. He only turns on the small lamp by his bedside before his ravening eyes turn their full attention back to her. He marvels at her beauty in the soft, warm glow for a moment before lifting the t-shirt over her head and tossing it aside.

He kisses down the column of her throat, teeth biting skin and soothing it with his tongue as he works his way inside her bra. A hunger is spreading inside of him at her taste, her smell, her noises. He tries to tame it as best as he can on her behalf, but it’s fucking hard. He’s fucking hard.

She hums, moans the further he travels, the rougher he gets as he devours every free inch of her body. He tests the waters, sees where he can bite. Her skin is more durable now. Ben still remembers the feeling – the numbness.

Her fingers jitter nervously as they fumble with his belt buckle and zipper. Ben thinks it’s cute. He’s never seen her like this before. He’s almost sad he doesn’t have super-hearing anymore to listen to the wild beats of her heart.

But he wouldn’t trade what he’s feeling right now for the world. He has almost forgotten what it all felt like before the blue poison made him so indifferent and callous. He never thought he’d wish her to be human. And not out of petty, jealousy, or selfishness – out of love.

Ben wants her to feel exactly what he feels and knows she fucking can’t right now.

The rest of their clothes land in a pile on the floor as they peel off each item, carefully working their way to bare skin. Ben’s fingers almost twitch from holding back – he’d love to tear and rip it all off. Baby steps.

When she’s left only in a pair of delicate lace panties, she gently pushes against his chest, forcing him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Ben can’t lie and say he isn’t a little nervous, too, rubbing his palms along his thick thighs in anticipation. She’s stronger than him now, which makes his heart flutter slightly. He feels a bit like he’s playing with matches, trying to set himself on fire.

Was this how his human lovers always felt when he was still Soldier Boy?

Little scary…

She straddles his thighs and takes a seat in his lap, teeth biting her bottom lip back and hiding half of the smile that graces her lips. Her hips rock against the achingly straining bulge in his boxers.

Ben’s been as hard as tungsten since she’s kissed him last night. Forty years imprisonment haven’t cost him this much restraint as one year without touching his wife, who was practically right underneath his nose the whole time. He figures it was the sheer temptation that constantly triggered his need for her. The Russians never were that fucking pretty.

She sucks the skin on his throat purple and blue and leaves bite marks behind. Ben knows she loves staking her claim on him, and he always enjoys inspecting her little art projects in the mornings. He’s gladly hers as much as she is his.

His massive hands wander her curves, squeeze taut flesh and perfectly frame her perky tits. Her skin feels smooth and soft and warm, hot even. Too hot…

“You’re hot,” he murmurs breathlessly against her lips.

She doesn’t understand what he means and smiles, although her brow furrows slightly as if she found the question at least a little odd. He was usually more direct, more racy. “Thank you. So are you?”

She tries to kiss him again, but he pulls back, his hands grabbing her upper arms and holding her at a distant as he inspects her closely. His brow knits deeper and deeper as he cups her scorching cheeks before his palm slides to her forehead.

“No…” He shakes his head, worry stirring his blood. His heartbeat accelerates, but not for the purpose he expected it to. “You’re burning up.”

As Ben looks closer at her face, he sees how pale she is, how hazy her eyes are. He worries more.

“I do feel a little warm, I guess,” she admits and then forces a weak smile. He could’ve almost mistaken it for lust. “But I’m fine, okay? Probably just nerves.”

Ben would love nothing more than to believe that, but he can’t. Something’s wrong. But it’s his job as her husband to not make her worry and take care of her.

“How about we postpone this to tomorrow, huh, my love?” Ben suggests and gently cards his hands through her hair.

“You sure?” She is surprised, considering how adamant and persistent he’s been to get her here. But she honestly feels too exhausted to argue for long.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he says and lovingly pecks her temple. “Just get some rest, okay? It’s been a lot for you those past two days.”

Ben helps her gently into bed, ensures the blanket covers her thoroughly, and places a goodnight kiss to her hairline. She’s fast asleep by the time he leaves the bedroom.

His smile fades, though, once he’s out of view. He knows better than anyone Y/N shouldn’t be feeling sick. She’s a supe, so he knows something is off – and it’s more than nerves and exhaustion.

And then, fear sets in.