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jimlingss · 4 years

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Maybe Baby Retreat

➜ Words: 12.7k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut

➜ Summary: In an attempt to conceive, Taehyung discovers a five day retreat dedicated to help with the impregnation process but you're fairly certain that the entire thing is a scam.

[Day One] Taehyung should be fucking you. It’s a bit crass to be grumbling that he’s not sticking his sperm in you, but your fertile window begins today and if he really wants a kid as much as he says he does, you wouldn’t be on a godforsaken bus. The yellow school bus jumps and jolts as it goes down the jagged, unpaved road. Every bump is felt in the back by ten folds as you’re rocked from side to side on the seat and not on your husband’s dick. Said man is too busy singing along with the guide that’s living it up with a mic in hand and his voice on the intercom. He’s trying to bring up the morale, but you’re not having it. Instead, you turn to the window and stare out at the empty countryside that stretches across the horizon. There’s not a car in sight and if you swear to god if you’re being shipped to a serial killer’s farmhouse, you’re dragging Taehyung down to hell with you. “You’re frowning, sweetheart,” he says while leaning over to you, flashing a blazing grin much to your chagrin. “You know stress isn’t good for the baby.” “It’s not like it matters. There is no baby.” “Not yet.” Taehyung throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you scoff. You’re aware being a Debbie Downer isn’t going to help anyone but it’s hard to loosen up when you’re so on guard and skeptical about this whole thing. When you’re surrounded by noisy strangers who are all too overfamiliar. You suppose it was your fault to begin with. All those nights of staying up to read about tricks and tips of conceiving led Taehyung to discover the Baby Retreat. A five day sanctuary that ensures people will be able to conceive. The moment you saw it, you were certain that the whole thing was a scam, but your sweet summer child husband was wholly convinced and no matter what you said, it wouldn’t change his mind. “Who knows, it might actually work, right?! And if it doesn’t, then it looks fun anyway! When was the last time we had a vacation together?” It’s also your fault for being so soft. You couldn’t shut Taehyung down when he was so enthusiastic, so here you are. You took off a week off work and on your fertile day, you’re shipped onto a school bus out into the middle of nowhere. “Oh! Looks like we’re here, folks!” The vehicle slows as it turns into the gravel parking lot and the guide smiles as he peers out the windshield. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope you leave with a few buns in the oven! And if not, then don’t worry, you can still eat for two here!” There’s a few snickers and once the bus parks, everyone gets up, slowly shuffling out and stretching their legs. The air is sweltering hot and the sun beams down onto the back of your neck, making it uncomfortable to breathe. You’re panting with sweat built on your hairline as you drag your luggage through the grass. But no one seems bothered by it. Maybe because they’re excited that they’re here, they have the energy to fill the field with their chatter. Even Taehyung is grinning and he’s a certified whiner when it comes to hot weather. The guy blasts the air conditioner during summer until it feels like it’s winter. Though you have an inkling it’s just a tactic so you can cuddle up to him for warmth before bed. “Come on, slowpoke!” Taehyung breaks through your train of thought and then abandons you by running ahead like a hyperactive five year old. “I’d be faster if you helped me!” Taehyung doesn’t hear you. You wonder if you married a child — but you suppose that’s why you called him the light of your life during your vows. Like Yoongi once said at the dinner reception, Taehyung’s excessive energy is indeed a double-edged sword. You follow the stream of people to the center building, a modern wooden structure in the middle of the fifteen yurts that form a circle. It surprisingly looks alike to the advertisements, each with a porch and steps up to the door. The grass is verdant and pliant beneath your feet, the numerous trimmed trees around providing some nice shade and the flower beds give bright splashes of colour to the place. If this retreat wasn’t oddly centered around impregnation, you would’ve been convinced that it was a fancy camping resort. “Welcome everyone! Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope the trip here wasn’t too bad!” You finally join Taehyung’s side and look towards the stage in front of the main building. There’s a man with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks in a loose tunic and taupe pants. He stands next to a woman in a baggy poncho holding a ukulele for reasons beyond you. “I see some familiar faces here! To all those already familiar with the Baby Retreat, welcome home. I’ll try to keep this short and simple, so you’re not too bored.” He claps his hands together with a bright smile. You look around at the crowd to see elated expressions. “My name is Park Jimin and this is my girlfriend, Song Hyunjin. A little about us, we’ve been together for over ten years and yes, we have an open relationship with each other, but that does not mean we aren’t in love with each other.” He draws her in, nuzzling into her without shame and she giggles. “To our new faces, trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.” Jimin pulls away with an enormous grin. “We haven’t had any children ourselves, but don’t worry. We’re reproductive endocrinologists with proper training and medical degrees. But we started this retreat four years ago to take a more unconventional approach to reproduction. And for the next five days, we have the honour of hopefully helping you ladies conceive and you males impregnate your partner!” There’s some exchanged smiles and Taehyung looks at you with hopeful eyes. It feels better to hear these people aren’t uneducated and talking out of their ass, but you’re still unsure how to feel. Hyunjin laughs. “Not only that, our goal is to help you relax and truly deepen your relationship with your partner. While we can’t promise a hundred percent success rate, hopefully you’ll leave this place feeling more refreshed than you did before. With that being said, please feel free to come up and ask us any questions. We’re very open people who are more than happy to help you in your process of expanding your wonderful families. There is nothing more beautiful than pregnancy and birth.” She jumps off the stage and grabs a wooden crate. With a smile, she begins passing out packs. Jimin continues, “For the next five days, we’ll be helping everyone improve their diets and exercise habits while getting plenty of vitamin D. What my lovely Hyunjin is handing out now are your survival kits!” “For men, fenugreek supplements are given to improve your sperm counts and for the ladies, there are prenatal vitamins and folic acid. There’s also a guide to the activities provided around here and a map, some sunscreen and other knick-knacks to remember your time here. Don’t worry, we won’t bombard you with any pregnancy pamphlets or information. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about that.” It’s a bit refreshing to hear. You’ve been neck deep in research about conception that it’s been hard lately — another reason that you agreed to Taehyung’s whims. “Are you the Kim family?” Hyunjin asks and when you confirm it, she hands both you and Taehyung cute pouches. You reluctantly take it, but when you thank her, she happily smiles. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat.” The introduction drags on for a bit more before Hyunjin admits that it’s hot and that everyone’s probably tired, so the meeting ends and you open your pouch and find information on your yurt. “Not too bad, right?” Taehyung can tell by the look on your face as you gaze up at your white-tented yurt. “We’ll see,” you mumble and he takes the luggage, following behind you. “I thought we were going to spend five days in an orange tent, so I guess this is better by default.” “An orange tent?” He laughs. “But I showed you the commercial! Did you not pay attention?” “People lie on advertisements all the time, Tae.” But to your surprise, the interior of the yurt is even better than expected. It looks like a cozy cabin, wooden panel walls that separate the full kitchen from the full bathroom and provides some privacy to where the queen sized bed is. Light comes in from the top, filling the space with luminescence. There’s a mini-fridge filled with goods, plush towels set on the table with a personalized welcome card, down duvets that are soft to the touch. And it’s wrecked the moment Taehyung jumps on the bed with his arms and legs wide open like a starfish. He rolls over and props his head up with his hand — in the position where he often asks you in a breathy voice to paint him like one of your french girls. And he uses the same voice on you now while wiggling his brows, “Wanna ruin the sheets with me?” You burst out laughing, but it sounds all too tempting. He could probably dump a load in you within five minutes, though you’re not sure if anyone could hear you from the outside. “Didn’t they say there’s planned activities in an hour? What if we don’t show up.” “It’s fine. People come here for one reason anyway.” There’s a pause. “To fuck.” You roll your eyes, setting your suitcase next to the bed and you look at the nightstand to notice mineral oil lubricants. You’re mildly impressed at the details. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” “They won’t miss us.” Taehyung’s own attention is taken to a wooden basket on a shelf of the irregular shaped bookshelf and he comes over, only to grin when he sees what’s inside. “Honey. I think we should have some fun tonight.” You turn around, wondering what he’s up to now. But any snarky remarks die on your tongue when you find a leather whip in his left hand and a ten inch, neon pink dildo in his other hand. “Is that...even sanitary?!” You can’t imagine how many people have used it. “We can find out.” Taehyung fiddles around with it, pushes a button and the dildo begins to rotate, making the both of you laugh. “Honey, we gotta give them five stars on Yelp! They have a communal sex toy bin for us to use! We can’t get this anywhere else.” “Oh god. I’d rather not share my sex toys with anyone.” The two of you are interrupted by muffled folk music that begins to leak inside and it persuades you to go out. “C’mon, we should go check out what they have. If we have to spend five days here, we might as well meet some other people too and be social or whatever.” Taehyung grins, tossing the dildo back into the basket and joining your side. “You’re liking this place, aren’t you?” “No. I just think the yurt’s half-decent.” Taehyung can see right through you, but it’s a bit too early for the ‘told you so’ spiel so he holds back and the both of you step outside of the yurt. There’s a few people hanging around and the weather is more bearable as the sun slowly begins moving and setting over the horizon. You meet friendly newlyweds who are surprisingly having their honeymoon here. “We just can’t wait to have kids,” Rose, the young twenty three year old, says as she embraces her husband, Hoseok. They’re no strangers to publish displays of affection, openly kissing up on each other. It would make you a bit uncomfortable if not for how touchy Taehyung is as well. When you first got together all those years ago, your friends teased you about it but it’s been years since. No one’s a stranger to how you plop yourself down on Taehyung’s lap or how he might kiss you and then steal your food right off of your own plate. “When we saw that the retreat offered a honeymoon package, we just couldn’t resist,” Hoseok says, but you’re not sure if he’s talking to you and Taehyung or his wife with how much he gazes at her. It’s a sweet sight though. You remember that honeymoon period. “Remember when we were that young?” you ask as you leave to the other side, giving the couple some much needed privacy. It was obvious they weren’t up for more conversation with the way they’re shifting and staring at one another. “When you were still hot? Yeah. I do—” Taehyung bursts out laughing when you jab him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You’re still hot, okay? The hottest chick here and you’d make the hottest MILF too.” “Damn straight.” The pair of you also run into another couple that’s older and appears a lot more comfortable with the place. “Oh, this is actually our second time here! The first time gave us the four year old troublemaker running amok back at home.” You blink in surprise, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “This place...worked for you?” “It sure did.” The woman, Dahyun, smiles. “Some people didn’t have as much luck as we did, but we had so much fun last time that we knew we just had to come back. We were actually staying in your yurt last time.” She points and you swivel your head over, intrigued. “Huh.” Taehyung raises a brow, noticing how engaged you are and the corner of his mouth tugs. Her husband, Seokjin, chuckles heartily. “We thought it was time to give our son a younger brother, so here we are! Tonight’s the welcome party and just a word of advice, I really recommend getting some of that grilled salmon. It’s absolutely delicious.” “Just let them eat whatever they want, Jin,” his wife sighs in exasperation. “I’m just saying! I would’ve liked to know last time — I would’ve gotten two plates before they ran out.” “This is why the doctor told you to eat less of everything. You ate more than I did when I was pregnant with Youngjae.” “I can’t help that I’m eating for three! For your information, I’m carrying the entire family on these broad, broad shoulders of mine. Soon, I’ll have to start eating for four.” Dahyun turns to you and Taehyung who are amused at their bickering. “I’m sorry. Please ignore him.” It’s not a bad place, at least not so far. You weren’t sure what you were anticipating, but on the entire way here, you were worried that it was a scam your poor husband fell for. Luckily though, it seemed like the accommodation is good and the people around are friendly and welcoming, coming from different kinds of backgrounds and walks of life. It makes you feel better about not having internet connection or being murdered in the middle of the night. The welcoming party turns out to be fairly nice too, and like Seokjin said, the food is delicious. It’s a buffet style with tables set out, full of what Jimin declares is antioxidant-rich foods. He and Hyunjin go on a tangent about the benefits, how soy and estrogen foods have been limited, how there’s an emphasis on fruits, vegetables, carbohydrates, proteins and folic acid, and you’re sorely impressed at the attention to detail they provide. “Oh my god. The salmon is amazing and have you tried these beans, Tae?!” Taehyung laughs as he watches you eat, eyes lifted to look at you across the rounded table. “I thought you hated beans.” “I do. But try it.” You lift your fork and he happily leans over, taking a bite. He swallows it down and smiles at how you stuff your cheeks. After dinner, the pair of you gather with the rest to watch a few performances held on the main stage. Jimin introduces other staff members who sing, dance and Hyunjin even does a number with her ukulele, belting out some indie songs while standing bare feet. It’s bizarre and a bit surreal to be sitting back in a lawn chair and watching some chick with flowers in her hair jump around and try to entertain you, but it’s not completely unwelcome. If anything, you were sort of having fun. The sun had set, making the weather milder. The breeze was warm against your cheeks and the fairy lights strung above were twinkling. The whole atmosphere lulled you and with your head leaning on Taehyung’s shoulder, every blink became heavier and heavier. “This is nice,” you mutter and he catches it. Your husband turns his head with a tiny smile. “Yeah?” “Mhmh...” You feel a wet kiss being planted at the top of your head and you decide to indulge, closing your eyes for just a moment. But the next time they open, you realize that the crowd has thinned, they’ve put on music on the stereo and Taehyung’s windbreaker is draped on top of you as a makeshift blanket. “Hey there, sleepy head.” He grins at you when he notices your lashes fluttering. “Want me to carry you back to the yurt?” “I’m fine.” It takes a second to get up and you stretch your arms out before the both of you make your way back to the yurt. There were a few younger couples lingering around and still taking in the scenery, but the years were catching up to you quickly and all you wanted was to dive into the sheets and satiate the rest of your sleepiness. “How long was I out for?” “About half an hour?” Taehyung fishes for the key and opens the door. “I didn’t even realize I was so tired.” You manage to kick off your shoes and beeline to the bathroom to brush your teeth. “Of course, you were tired. You didn’t even sleep on the bus and for the past few days you’ve been up late doing research.” You mumble incoherently, not having enough energy to argue with Taehyung and he grins, nudging you aside so he can grab his own toothbrush. In the next ten minutes, it’s lights out. You’re rolled onto the bed, tucked into the warm sheets like a burrito, and Taehyung’s settled in as well. You hear his exhale and you allow your muscles to relax in the comfortable darkness. The exhaustion that’s been built from the entire day washes over you. But before you can drift off, in the quietness of the room, you remember. And you reach out, arm stretched, feeling for your husband. Taehyung hums when you tap his shoulder. You feel him shift and mumble, “What’s wrong?” “I’m fertile,” you mutter with your eyes closed. “You need to stick your dick in me.” He bursts out laughing and his arm slings over your abdomen. “It’s okay if we don’t have sex tonight, you know.” You sigh, too fatigued to get up and do the job yourself. “We’re gonna miss our opportunity, Tae.” A soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel yourself losing the fight to keep your consciousness. “We’ll have other chances. Relax.” “Relaxing….isn't gonna give us a baby.” “No, but it will keep my current baby sane.” After being together for so many years, Taehyung knows how to make his words sound sweet and enticing. And before you can even damn him for always catering to you and babying you, you’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

[Day Two] Breakfast is as incredible as dinner was. There’s a full fruit platter that’s apparently all organic and a number of carbohydrates to fill yourself all the way to lunch. But you begin to regret eating so much with the scheduled activity that follows. “Couples yoga is a way to build intimacy and trust with your partner.” Hyunjin and Jimin smile brilliantly and you wonder if they’re happy go lucky all the time. It must be fucking exhausting. “Taehyung.” You nudge the man beside you who’s intently listening and he turns his head. “You know I’m not flexible at all.” “Don’t worry.” He flashes a blazing grin. It’s way too early for this. “This is just for fun and I’ll catch you if anything.” “No. Last time I tried doing yoga, I pulled a muscle in my thigh—” “Oh look. They’re doing the first pose!” Your husband excitedly lugs you down and you’re forced to comply, crossing your legs and facing him. It’s simple at first. There are basic poses with him leaning against you. Although it is hard to find a good balance considering how tall Taehyung is and even for being lanky, he’s quite a bit stronger than you are. But when Hyunjin and Jimin begin to twist themselves around and Jimin holds her up by the feet with a single hand, you know it’s impossible. Unlike Taehyung, you never did cheerleading or any acrobatics. “You’re going to drop me or I’m going to snap your spine, Tae!” “Don’t you trust me?” You look at your half-monkey, half-clown of a husband. “Do you really want to know the truth?” The both of you collapse into a heaping mess before he can confirm or deny. He laughs and starts tickling you for not being able to listen until you’re begging him to stop before you look more like an idiot than you already do. There’s a few couples who do a good job and you giggle when Taehyung mutters passive aggressive comments on how they’re teacher’s pets or that their form is awful. But there’s the fair share of other pairs who do as bad as you, namely Seokjin and Dahyun, the old couple from last night, bickering at being unable to do any poses. You can’t say that couple’s yoga is particularly relaxing, but it’s silly and you find yourself having fun. Hyunjin leads the cool down exercise and Taehyung nearly whacks you in the head with how he stretches. Your glare gains his exaggerated pout then cheesy smile. “Now as the very last cool down exercise, we’re going to take our partners by the hand.” You mimic her and clasp Taehyung’s hands, awaiting further instructions. “And we’re going to gaze into their eyes.” What? “Focus into the colour of their irises, how brown or blue or green they might be, or even the pattern of them. Sometimes we don’t truly look at one another like we should.” “What are they even saying?” you mutter and the corner of Taehyung’s mouth twitches. In spite of how bizarre it is, you follow and stare into Taehyung’s rounded eyes. They’re brown. Like they’ve always been. But you must admit, when the morning sunlight catches his irises at particular angles, the colour is a lighter shade than usual. They’re quite bright too. “They say if we gaze into the eyes of someone we love, our heartbeat synchronizes together.” What? Your brows furrow skeptically and you’re about to turn away, but suddenly Taehyung grabs a hold of your chin. “Don’t look away,” he commands with an authoritative voice and you swallow hard. “Okay.” You focus your eyes to enlarge and focus. “I’m looking.” You wonder if this is a staring contest, but even with his wolfish smile and being married for so long, Taehyung’s intent stare starts to make you feel vulnerable. You wonder if he’s always looked at you so affectionately. More importantly, you realize that even with all his dumb antics — like deciding to paint the fence green and then stopping halfway or ripping out the cabinets in the kitchen and never replacing them like he intended — you still love this sweet and kind dummy. “Alright. Everyone can relax now,” Jimin announces softly as he claps and you finally blink a few times, eyes stinging from how you forced them open. “That’s the end of this session. Thank you for joining everyone.” Yet, Taehyung holds your gaze a moment longer. And before you can pipe up and tell him it’s over, the man leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. He smiles when he pulls away. “As much as sweat is a good look on you, I think it’s time to shower, Mrs. Kim.” You scoff and he holds your hand with an enormous grin, dragging you back to the yurt. The two of you hop into the shower together, a habit that Taehyung insists is to save water for the good of the environment, but you swear half the time, you end up wasting more than if either of you do it separately. You’re sure that right now is one of those times. “Hey.” You turn around as he’s lathering up his shampoo. “Hey, yourself.” He smiles and shifts towards the stream of water before screaming at how hot it is. Taehyung quickly adjusts it, dissipating the fog on the glass. “Why do you like bathing in molten lava, woman?” “You always make it too cold.” You scoff, but don’t dwell on the argument as you lean into his backside. “Listen, should we get a quickie in?” Taehyung frees himself of the soap and looks at you. “If we do, we’ll miss lunch and then the hike.” “We’re going on a hike?!” “Yep, so hurry up cause if we don’t get lunch, we’re not gonna make it!” He gets out of the shower, leaving you to be bludgeoned by the ice, cold water. You sigh in exasperation. The purpose of coming here is to conceive, not go on a hike. But with how enthused he is, you begrudgingly join. Afternoons are the worst out here. The sun is sweltering and there isn’t an ounce of a breeze or a wind. As a result, the heat stifles and lingers without dissipating, causing sweat to dampen your clothing and stick to the back of your neck. The weather exhausts you and you feel your creamy lunch pasta up your throat again as you lug your legs up the steep, rocky incline. No matter how much you try to keep up, you fall behind from the group. Taehyung twirls around with a big grin, mouth perfectly symmetrically. “Are you okay?” “W-What does it look like?” you pant. It’s unfair that Taehyung works out once a year and treats his body like a candy trashcan but is still more fit than you are. “I can carry you if you want.” “You’re going to snap in half carrying me.” You pass him as he laughs. You hear him catch up, feet skipping along like he’s playing hopscotch. Then suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted off the ground and you shriek, arms looping around Taehyung’s neck. You’re scooped up in his arms like he’s about to kick down the door into the bedroom, but instead, he starts sprinting up the path like a maniac. “Taehyung!” you squeal and he laughs again. “Isn’t this better?” “Aren’t you tired?” “If I say yes, you’re gonna think I’m trying to tell you to lose weight, but for the record, I like how soft you are.” You roll your eyes, embarrassed as you pass a few couples, but none of them seem to find it bizarre and they even smile warmly at you and Taehyung. Yet, he starts to slow down tremendously after a few minutes, panting and sweating profusely. You ask him if he’s going to put you down yet, but you underestimate just how stubborn your dear husband is. Taehyung refuses until you’re up at the top of the trail, making it to where Jimin and Hyunjin are by the waterfall. There, you’re finally on set on your feet again. You pass him your water bottle. “Drink it before I’m the one dragging you down.” He grins and downs it. Up here, it’s much more refreshing and easier to breathe. There’s a tiny waterfall coming from the higher mountains and there are trees around to provide shade. When you squint, you can see the campsite at a distance with all the yurts. “We should take some pictures!” Taehyung declares when he steadies his breath and pulls out his selfie stick from the hideous fanny pack that you still won’t admit is pretty convenient. “Your mom is gonna want a copy so don’t pull any ugly faces, Tae.” “My face is never ugly.” He tugs you beside him and snaps a few shots before reviewing them carefully. Taehyung always had an eye for these kinds of things. “We didn’t get a good angle of the water.” “I can take it for you.” “What’s the point if we’re not together?” His thick brows are furrowed, lips lopsided, sighing. A matronly and friendly voice pipes up next to you, “Do you need any help?” Dahyun is smiling with Seokjin beside her and Taehyung appears relieved. “Yes, please.” She takes his phone as he folds back his selfie stick and she stands off to the side, capturing you and Taehyung smiling with his arm around you. “One. Two. Three. I’ll take another one.” Dahyun changes the angle a bit and Taehyung leans over to pull on your cheek while you feign a glare at him. The second picture is taken while the woman and her husband laugh, endeared. “There we go. You can check them to see if they’re good.” The phone is handed back and by Taehyung’s expression, it seems acceptable. “You two are too cute. When did you get married?” “Oh, I think three years ago? Yeah. Three.” It’s much longer than it actually feels. It seemed like it was a week ago when you first met in class and thought he was annoying. Like yesterday, he was supposed to propose at a fancy restaurant but failed when you found the ring box the night before — how he screamed at you to stop, but it was too late and he ended up going with it. They’ve all become memories that you cherish. “We met back in school and dated a while before getting married.” Dahyun smiles. “Have you decided how many kids you want yet?” You hitch a thumb to Taehyung. “He wants four, but I’m fine with two.” “The bigger the family, the better, right?” he says, looking up from the screen of his phone. “Wait until you have kids, you’ll end up wanting more,” Seokjin chuckles, “That or you’ll want to give them all away, but personally, I could raise a whole football team if she’d let me.” His wife jabs him in the ribs. “Yeah, because you’re not the one who has to give birth to them.” “And that’s why you’re the boss of the house.” He pouts at her while the corners of his mouth tickle up into a smile, and she relents. “Let’s be honest, the real boss of the house is our little troublemaker. I swear he took after all your bad traits.” Seokjin gasps. “Excuse me, Youngjae is my most masterful creation...even if he painted all over our leather seats and popped our car tire with his batman toy.” She shakes her head with a light sigh, but it’s hard to hide her beaming expression. “I should’ve known he would give me trouble when he went past the due date for two weeks.” “T-two weeks?” you sputter. Dahyun nods, finally having the sympathy she was trying to fish out of her husband. “My stomach was as big as a watermelon and I was in labour for fourteen hours before I ended up getting an emergency c-section and he came out a whopping ten pounds.” Your head is swirling as you try to imagine a ten pound baby in this petite woman. It almost seems like a horror story that’s waiting to be picked up by Hollywood. “But honestly, the hardest part wasn’t the whole pregnancy or birthing process. It was afterwards.” Her exhale is long and fatigued. “Suddenly there’s another human being you’re responsible for and you have to take care of them while you’re still in recovery. I remember when Youngjae couldn’t stop crying in the middle of the night. I always had an idea that having kids was a lot of work, but you really don’t have time for yourself once they’re born, and not to mention my bladder was completely done for after the whole thing.” “Alright, alright.” Her husband pulls her close. “I already know you’re a woman warrior. I saw it with my own eyes.” Dahyun smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes and she turns to him, deadpanning, “No, you didn’t. You passed out half-way.” “I was there in spirit,” Seokjin insists humorously. Dahyun scoffs while Taehyung grins at their back and forth that’s reminiscent of his own dynamic with you. “But were they worth it?” “Oh, a thousand percent,” Dahyun responds without needing a second to consider, expression softening. “Enough that I would want to do it all over again.” She doesn’t get a chance to say much else when Jimin’s voice pierces through the chatter and everyone gathers together with the last stragglers who have finally made it up. “Thank you, everyone, for coming all the way up here. This is Serenity Falls that was actually…” But his voice drowns out. You linger on what Dahyun said, about child rearing and birthing, and there’s nothing that can be done to the uneasy emotion swelling inside of you. The walk back down is silent. Done without a single complaint from you about the hot weather or how your feet ache. Taehyung notices, glancing at you several times. He doesn’t say anything until you’re back at the yurt. “What’s wrong?” You look at him from across the room. “Nothing, why?” “You’ve just been quiet.” “I just….” You inhale and decide to divulge him. “I was just thinking about what Dahyun and Seokjin were saying. Do you think we’re cut out for this, Taehyung?” His head quirks to one side. “Why wouldn’t we be?” “You and I can barely take care of ourselves.” “That’s not true.” “We forget to buy food all the time.” “That makes midnight snack runs fun.” He grins. You exhale an unsteady breath and Taehyung approaches you. He doesn’t mind how sweaty you are and wraps his arms around your waist. “We’ll figure it out. You said it yourself, right? One step at a time.” “But what if it’s too much and you decide you don’t want to do it anymore? Or that...you don’t want to be with me?” He opens his mouth, but you keep going before he can jump in. It’s not just about you being self-conscious or needing reassurance. You’re simply trying to imagine the worst case scenario as realistically as you can. “Like when I’m still bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do.” “I’ll still love you no matter the changes,” Taehyung murmurs earnestly, searching your expression. “Even if you’re bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do. I’ll use google to figure it out and get the baby to calm down and I’ll get you some chocolate and I’ll rub your feet.” You scoff lightly. “You make it sound so easy.” “Maybe because it won’t be as hard as you think. I’m great with kids and we got killer teamwork, you know, plus this baby’ll be the best project we’ve ever done together.” “A project that’s gonna last us eighteen years.” You smile. Taehyung laughs, the sound mellifluous in the room. “Which isn’t that long considering how fast time moves.” You hum and encircle your arms around his neck. Taehyung gets the hint and leans in to seal your lips against his, slotting them together to kiss you the way he knows you like it. It’s slow, comforting, an opportunity to revel in the softness of his lips. Taehyung gives you courage — he always has and when you break apart, smiling against each other, you feel worlds better than before. “I’m gonna start a bubble bath. You can join me if you want.” It’s less of a suggestion and more of a demand, one Taehyung fully recognizes and makes him smile in amusement as you saunter away. Taking advantage of the tub in the bathroom, you lower the stopper of the drain and dump in the soap they offer. The water gets filled three quarters way with a layer of bubbles and you strip. You sigh as you get comfortable in the tub. “Is it warm?” Your husband leans against the doorway, arms crossed and the corner of his mouth curled. “Uh-huh.” You loll your head on the edge of the tub and lift up your foot, watching the way the water cascades off your skin. “Are you not going to get in?” “Maybe later,” Taehyung surprisingly replies. He rarely rejects any chance at jumping your bones when you’re being this forward about it. There’s no hike or lunch to catch that’s preventing him from having fun with you either. But as your husband walks out, you catch him unceremoniously stealing the clothes you have prepared and the stack of towels by the sink. “What are you doing?” “There’s no point in covering yourself up if I’m gonna strip you anyway.” He flashes a mischievous grin and you sigh, relenting in his antics. You simply lay back to enjoy the water, muscles relaxing and your brain that’s constantly in overdrive empties. After ten minutes, your skin begins to wrinkle, so you drain the water and get out. But the moment you stand up, the cool air conditioning slams into you and your body starts to shiver. “Taehyung!” you shout and hear silence. “At least give me a towel!” Fortunately for you, there’s a smaller one on the rack he missed so you swipe at it and wrap your shoulders to protect yourself. But you’re still dripping wet and in need of your clothes, so you stomp out to find your ridiculous partner who’s apparently five years old and— “HA!” Said man you’re searching for bursts out of the closet and you scream, startled half to death, nearly falling to the ground. Taehyung starts to laugh like a maniac. “Are you serious?!” You gawk at him. “How long did you even wait there for?” “Like five minutes ago.” The bastard wolfishly grins. “Worth it though.” You cock a brow at him, sighing. “So that’s why you didn’t join me in the bath?” “No. I didn’t join you, so I could do this.” He yanks the towel where your breasts meet, leaving you nude. Goosebumps rise all over your skin and your nipples harden in the frigid air. You screech, arms trying to cover yourself. “Taehyung, it’s cold!” “I can warm you up,” he says but then runs away when he reads the glare on your face, giggling boyishly. It’s completely childish. If anyone was watching, you’d be mortified, but it’s been a long time since there was any shame in your marriage, so you stomp after him while nude. You hunt the man down while he tries to evade by rounding the coffee table. It’s no longer about grabbing clothes or covering yourself up, it’s time for revenge. Luckily, the yurt isn’t big enough to have a game of tag. You manage to reach him and you steal the opportunity to yank his pants down. Taehyung, mid-laugh, trips on his feet and stumbles on the carpet. You burst out giggles, looking at his ass in the air and he giggles too from the infectious sound bubbling up your throat. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now,” He mutters in a low voice with half-lidded eyes and you scramble away with another shriek. “You started it!” You jump onto the bed and Taehyung kicks off his pants. You don’t ask why he’s skipped out on wearing boxers, but you notice he’s already half-hard and that only makes you laugh louder. He chases after you as you duck and steal his own tactic of rounding the coffee table. But unfortunately for you, Taehyung has always been destined to win with his longer legs. He catches you within two strides and snatches you as you scream. You’re thrown over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes and he smirks. “Caught you.” “Taehyung! People are gonna hear!” You laugh in spite of being the one who’s making most of the noise and he tosses you onto the bed. Usually, you hate to be manhandled, but your husband’s the only exception to the rule. “Let them hear.” He hovers over you and the laughter dies down. Taehyung stares earnestly into your eyes and your breathing becomes shallow. But you don’t like to lose and as his wife of three years, you know his one, true weakness. Your fingers lift to Taehyung’s armpits and he seizes when you start tickling him. You laugh when he does and once he doubles over, there’s an opening to the left, a perfect escape route. You steal the opportunity while you still have it and start to climb off the bed, but he regains his breath and grabs your ankle, tugging you back to him in one swift motion without even needing to try. Taehyung grins. “God, you’re such a brat sometimes.” “Yeah, and I know you like it.” He grabs your wrists before you can make another tickle attack and pins it above your head. You can tell that there’s no more time for jokes or any more playing around, not when you can feel his hard cock against your stomach. “You smell good,” he sighs into your neck, inhaling deeply. “Cherry blossom? Peony?” “Strawberries,” you answer. “You smell like sweat.” “You’re gonna end up like me anyway.” Taehyung smiles and leans in to kiss you. It isn’t shy or chaste. His tongue licks into your mouth and you exhale, a strangled moan muffled against his lips as you melt against him. He finally has you where he wants and you let him take control. The pair of you swap spit for a few minutes until he releases your hands, allowing you to curl your fingers into his shoulders as he caresses your waist. Taehyung eventually breaks away with a playful glint in his eyes. “You wanna try the toys?” You both look at the basket half across the room and he rolls off of you. You get to your feet to inspect it for yourself and discover an array of colourful gadgets, some that you’ve tried before and others that you’re sure needs to have an instruction manual with it. “I’m not putting any of these dildos in me, Tae. I don’t know where they’ve been.” “I know.” He lays with his head propped up by his hand and you eye something at the bottom of the basket. You pull out a leather whip and look at him. “Ooh, a classic pick there, sweetheart.” A whip seems more sanitary considering it doesn’t have to go in anyone’s orifices. “Is it?” You approach with a tiny smile, staring down the innocent man. “Roll over.” “What?” “I’ll whip you.” You grin and he blinks at you. More often than not, you’re the more submissive one in bed, but the idea of having Taehyung crying out and the idea of you cackling at his pain has him immediately rolling face down in intrigue and you stepping up on the bed. He turns his face to the side. “Do you know how to do it?” “How hard can it be?” There’s a pause. “But tell me if it hurts.” “The point is to make it hurt, Y/N.” “Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt you-hurt you.” “I can handle it.” Taehyung smirks and you scoff. Even in this position, he’s trying to maintain his dominance. You grip it tightly and don’t count. Simply, with a flick your wrist, you slam the whip across his backside. It makes a loud cracking sound and you hear Taehyung sharply inhale. His teeth grit and you freeze, watching his expression carefully. “How was it?” “Is my back split open?” he asks, trying to look over his shoulder. “No.” “I think I might have to go to the ER.” He sits up completely, overdramatic in the way he fumbles around and his tone filled with some mischief. “I think there’s internal bleeding. Or my spine is broken. I wouldn’t be surprised.” “It’s fine, Tae.” you laugh. So much for telling you to go for it. But you already had an inkling Taehyung wasn’t one for receiving pain. After all, he’s still your whiny baby who only eats vanilla yogurt. “Not your thing?” “Not my thing.” He takes the whip from your hand and tosses it across the room. “I have a better toy in mind.” You’re about to remind him you’re not gonna put any of those communal toys inside of you, but he instead walks over to his suitcase and starts tearing some clear packaging open with something pink inside. You read the label — it’s a remote control vibrating egg. Your brows furrow. “When did you get that?” “Two days before we left. Amazon prime, babe.” “So that’s what you were looking at when you told me you were doing some online shopping?” “Precisely.” Taehyung grins and you’re not sure if you should be pleasantly surprised or in dismay since the two of you have already made a pact not to buy anything else online. The treadmill bought on an impulse is still taking up half the space of the living room. Before you can think too much, Taehyung gets it open and comes over. He nudges your thighs to open and you lay back, leaning against the headboard. You’re not that wet yet, if at all, but it doesn’t stay that way when his long fingers rub against your clit in circles. With his other hand, he strokes against your slit and then sinks his index finger in knuckle deep. You throw back your head, moaning his name at the intrusion while he remains silent, intently watching your pink cunt squeeze. Taehyung curls his finger and swallows hard. The sloppy sounds of your cunt fill the room and he hums in satisfaction. “Okay. Ready?” “Uh-huh.” The head of the cold egg meets your folds and it slowly enters. While the toy might not be big or long, the girth stretches against your warm walls and you keen. Taehyung makes a low noise, encouraging you to take it. When it’s in, he smiles brilliantly. “Good job, sweetheart. You did it.” “Now what?” “This, of course.” Taehyung dangles the remote in front of you and then like a psycho, he ramps it up to the highest possible setting. Intense vibrations are felt through your body instantaneously and you cry, head knocked back against the headboard as your velvet walls squeeze and tremble. “T-Taehyung!” “Good?” “I-It’s too much!” You’re completely at his mercy and he takes advantage of it, drinking you in with a wolfish smile. You’re unable to muster a glare at him, reduced to a complete mess while your center leaks and drips onto the sheet. Still, you try to reach over to the remote. He dodges when you lunge at him. “Nu-uh.” Luckily, you get a hold of your husband and climb over to him. His arm is extended straight up, laughing as you try to snatch it from him. He waves it inches away to mock you while enjoying the sight of you quivering on top of him. “T-Tae!” “Okay, okay.” He laughs and transfers it into his other hand, about to turn the setting down a notch. But right at the moment you’re about to snag it for yourself, the remote flies out of his hand. It falls through the gap between the wall and the headboard. It clatters to the ground. “Oh shit.” “Taehyung!” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rolls off the mattress and looks underneath the bed before abruptly standing. “I’m going to need a long stick or something.” He starts to look around the room, searching for a tool to grab the remote that’s out of reach, and you don’t know if you should suffocate him with a pillow or facepalm yourself hard enough to get knocked out into a coma. You can pull out the egg yourself, but the violent vibrations were beginning to thrum pleasure through you, so as your useless husband goes fishing for the remote, you finish the job. Your fingers play with your clit, rubbing the bud as your slick drips down your thighs and you come hard on the toy. The same moment light flashes beneath your eyelids and your toes curl, Taehyung grabs the remote with the help of a rolled brochure and shuts it off. The both of you are winded for different reasons. “You know, I'd say that was pretty hot if not for how stressful that actually was.” “You’re an idiot.” You tug the toy out of you and bat him over lazily, feeling spent on how hard you came. “Now dump some sperm in me, idiot.” Taehyung has a cheesy grin and climbs over you. Despite the struggles of grabbing the toy’s remote, he’s fully hard from the noises you were making. “I’d tell you to ask more nicely, but I’ll let it go.” He aligns the head of his weeping cock to your swollen cunt and leans his weight into you. He starts to push in and you whine, gripping his forearms. As wet as you are, Taehyung is still well-endowed — less girthy than the toy, but there’s a considerable length to him. When he bottoms out, you can feel him all the way to your throat. He tucks sweaty strands of hair behind your ear and kisses you. “Sorry about earlier.” “’t’s okay. It was fun,” you admit and he smiles, starting to work up a good rhythm. You feel hot in your face with the pressure of his body on top of yours, hardened nipples brushing against his chest. Your cunt pulses and squeezes around his length. It draws Taehyung’s groans into your neck. “F-Fuck. You’re so tight.” It feels good and you know he’s reveling in the pleasure too. His eyes are shut tight, the scrunch made between his brows and it entices you to reach up and kiss him to which he sweetly indulges you. Your tongues twine as you pant against each other and Taehyung starts to lose his pacing. He bends your knee, hitting you at a deeper angle as his strokes become increasingly frantic and quick. You egg him on and he groans once more before he thrusts himself as deep as he can go and cums. Ropes of white paint your walls, the head of his cock against your cervix and filling your cunt and womb up. You can feel some of it dribbling out, seeping past your folds and when Taehyung’s about to withdraw, you quickly grab his forearm. “Wait. Just stay put for a second. I have to keep it in.” He nods and kisses your lips. “Okay.” Taehyung nestles into you, nuzzling into your neck and you hope this is the one.

[Day Three] There were lots of activities and amenities offered and advertised by Jimin during the introduction of the retreat, but you realize you might’ve missed over the most important one of all. “How does that feel?” the massage therapist asks as she works a knot out of your shoulders and smooths your skin with the oil. “Amazing,” you murmur from the corner of your mouth, melted against the table. Couples massages were something you always scoffed at, but holy shit, it’s absolutely paradise. With the breeze blowing through the pitched tent and the glowing humidifier releasing a fresh scent, you’ve never been more relaxed as all the stiffness is worked out of you. You open your eyes to see Taehyung enjoying it as well — though not as much as you are since he’s quite ticklish. Sometimes, he squirms a bit too much and his massage therapist is at a loss of what to do. But when it’s all done, you feel like you’re in a new body. “Oh my god. I think I’m more flexible than before. Look, Tae!” You stretch your leg and he giggles at how happy your mood is. “If I knew you liked it this much, I would’ve signed us up for one at the spy near the gym.” Your eyes are wide, catching the sunlight. “Do you think they’re as good as this place?” Taehyung grins. “Probably.” “We should go when we get back then. Oh, do you wanna check out the library?” “Sure.” You grab his hand, lacing your fingers together and he smiles to himself. It’s a free day without many planned activities, giving you both an opportunity to look around the retreat for yourselves and take it easy. And the pair of you take full advantage of the opportunity. Since morning, you were lazing around the yurt and after breakfast and the massages, you decide to lay in one of the hammocks by the trees while Taehyung naps with you. Said man hasn't seen you this stress free in a while, so he happily indulges you in all your wishes. Even when night falls and you step away from the stage where Hyunjin is performing again to stargaze. It’s an odd activity for you since mosquitoes love to especially swarm around you when given the chance and on numerous occasions, you’ve been a moth landing spot. But tonight, the breeze is soft and gentle, and you don't feel any tickles on your skin that isn’t Taehyung’s hand grazing against yours. The grass is pliant beneath your feet and the fairy lights twinkle far away enough that its luminescence doesn’t obstruct. You knock your heads back to view the horizon, allowing the darkness to engulf you and the stars to emerge. “Remember Bali?” “When you lost your passport?” “When we went stargazing with the tour group,” Taehyung corrects. “It still wasn’t as beautiful as this.” “You think everything in front of you is the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You said that about the Eiffel and then Tokyo Tower.” He laughs. “Hey, my mind doesn’t change that often. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.” You scoff, looking away from the sky towards him with a pout. He always knows how to lay on the sappiness without needing to blink. Your dear husband has always been shameless in that aspect and you adore him for it. “So I’m a thing to you now?” “You know that’s not what I mean.” He wraps his arms around your waist. The both of you stare up at the sky. “Is that the big dipper?” You look at where he’s pointing to the large clusters of stars. “I can’t see it. Maybe that’s scorpio.” “Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung tries guessing, “It might be taurus or gemini. Or libra.” “Aren’t you just naming astrological signs now?” “Maybe.” He grins. “I’m a capricorn.” “Yes, I know.” You two of you clearly don’t know anything about constellations or how to find them, but it doesn’t make the moment any less enjoyable. Yet when your necks start to ache, he takes your hand and strolls down the path through the trees. “Taehyung. What if we get lost?” None of you have your phones or any flashlights. There’s only the crescent moon giving off its light. “Don’t worry. I have a great sense of direction.” “You and I both know that’s not true.” “You have a great sense of direction, so we won’t get lost,” he says and you sigh without putting much of an argument up. Not when you knew he was headed to the lake you had peeked at earlier in the afternoon, and now it was shimmering with the moonlight, reflecting the starry horizon in its water. There’s a certain kind of peacefulness, a serenity that you would never get back in the city or even the suburbs. Certainly not without light pollution or the occasional car whizzing past. Here, there is none of those noises, none of those distractions, just you and Taehyung savouring the view⁠— “Hey.” But of course, your mischievous husband has to have ulterior motives for coming all the way here. And you know there are ulterior motives by that glint in his eye and the sly smile he has. “What?” “Wanna take a dip?” Your brows shoot to your hairline. “Are you crazy? It’s probably freezing! What if we get hypothermia and die?” “For the record, you’d make one beautiful angel. But I’ll warm you up before it gets to that point.” Taehyung grins and starts stripping, tugging his shirt right off his head. It’s always been like this — him proposing something out of your norm, you try to voice your concerns, and then you’re the one who’s diving head first into it without hesitation and end up having more fun than he does. “God, it’s so cold!” The moment the water touches your toes, you recoil. But you brace yourself and continue onward with your entire body shivering. It’s your first time skinny dipping ⁠— something normally reserved for rebellious teenagers and most certainly not for late twenty-some year olds. Yet neither of you have qualms, even if you’re shrieking and Taehyung is laughing and following behind you. “It’s freezing, Taehyung!” “Come here.” He pulls you to him so your backside is pressed to his front and you wonder how Taehyung can be so warm all the time. The pair of you get waist deep into it and you turn around to grip him. Your husband smiles and holds onto you, eventually going far enough that the water reaches your shoulders. “See? Isn’t this nice?” You hum, gazing up at the stars and the moon, the sight reflected on the water and how you’re pressed to Taehyung. “Seems like the beginning of a horror movie.” He laughs and your feet try to reach down to find stability, but you realize you can’t touch the ground anymore and your grip on him tightens. “Walk back a bit, Tae.” “Why?” “You know I can’t swim.” His mouth curls. “But I like how you’re holding onto me. I won’t let go,” he adds after a long pause, “if you beg me not to.” Your arms immediately come to loop around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, latching onto him in a vice grip like a koala does to a branch. “Taehyung! I’m not kidding.” “Oh...oh!” The bastard pretends that he’s gonna let go of you and actually does for a split-second. He laughs at your panicked expression. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” You feign a pointed glare that turns out to be more of a pout. “You’re lucky I like you.” “You only like me?” “Yeah and if you keep going, I’m going to demote you from husband to friend.” Taehyung makes a pained, sharp sound. “Can’t let that happen then.” He suddenly hoists you up higher, grip secure on your thighs and smiles brilliantly while you scoff. You savour the view and the warmth of his body heat, but you’re slightly distracted. “Do you think anyone’s gonna steal our clothes, Tae?” You squint at the small pile near the shore. “Who would?” “I don’t know. What if a bear comes from the bushes and takes them? We’ll have to walk back naked.” “I’m pretty sure there aren’t bears here, Y/N. Stop overthinking it.” Taehyung suddenly grabs a hold of your chin and turns your head for you to look only at him. Then, he kisses you in a soft and gentle way before the tip of his tongue meets the seam of your lips. You happily oblige, parting them and allowing him access to your tongue and giving him a taste of you. The man hums in satisfaction as soft smacking noises fill the surroundings. You lean into his firm frame while Taehyung’s large hands slinks from your thigh to the curve of your ass. You feel his thumb probe against your folds. “T-Taehyung.” His hard length is beneath you and you grind down on him, feeling empty. It draws a groan from his throat. After a moment, you get his cock inside of you. The stretch soothes the itch you had, filling your cunt deliciously. But unlike the movies, it’s not enough for you. The water washes away the lubricant, each stroke rough and the glide slower than you’d like. So you beg him and the both of you are dragged up onto the shore again. You turn on all fours. The pebbles uncomfortably dig into your knees, but it’s a distraction that blurs into the background when Taehyung pounds into you. You feel all of him, his body heat against yours, each thrusting movement flicking off the droplets of water from your skin. And when Taehyung turns your head to kiss you while rubbing at your clit, you cum around his cock. He finishes as you beg for it and Taehyung’s sticky fluids leak down your thighs on the trek back.

[Day Four] Taehyung blinks blearily, slowly coming to consciousness. He scratches his bed head and groans at how his muscles ache. But when he turns his head, the other side of the bed is cold and empty. His eyes widen in confusion and he feels more awake than before. He checks the time and realizes he slept in, a total of ten hours, which isn’t a surprise considering how last night’s rendezvous continued and was more intense than usual. What is unusually, however, is that you’re gone. But he soon finds you outside. Bathing in the sun. Laying in a hammock. Napping with a book next to you. Your eyes flutter open as his shadow covers your figure. The corner of his mouth pulls. “Morning.” You sheepishly grin. “Morning.” “What time did you get up?” “Like an hour ago. The breeze was nice so I thought I’d do some reading, but I guess I accidentally fell asleep.” “Looks like you’ve gotten comfortable.” Taehyung’s enormous smile aches his cheeks. You’ve fallen in love with this place more than he has, but he doesn’t mind whatsoever. He loves watching you have fun. The two of you have breakfast, inhaling in the food, and then head to a meditation class on the grass led by Hyunjin. Typically, Taehyung has to convince you to take part in such a session and you’d usually wave it off as a waste of time. But there are no qualms or an ounce of hesitation in your expression when you head over. “Now breathe in, and out, a steady stream of breath. Think about all that you are grateful for. Everything that has made your life amazing, and let that positive energy surround you as the negative energy releases.” But while you’re eager, Taehyung, on the other hand, finds out that meditation is not cut out for him. He’s bored out of his mind from the lack of stimulation. Time feels like it’s dragging on slower, each second a minute and a minute is an hour. Somehow, meditating makes him feel even more exhausted than before and his mind ends up wandering. Taehyung thinks about how he’s really craving some fatty burgers instead of the organic oatmeal and yogurt he had — how hot the weather is — how it’s hard to breathe — how sweat sticks to his skin. “Hold your breath for three seconds and release for three seconds.” He sighs and peels back an eye to see you with your hands pressed together, concentrated in following instructions. The corner of his mouth tickles into a smile. As bored as he is, it’s worth seeing you happy. // The more excited you are about something, the more you run around from place to place and Taehyung’s resorted to looking for you. Luckily, the resort is small, so he finds you in front of the main building, chatting to a certain brunette with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks. “—heard that doggy actually works for some people, but for me, it doesn’t feel right...like…” “The head of the cock isn’t right up against the cervix?” Jimin hums thoughtfully. “Have you tried angling your leg better? Sometimes you need to bend a bit and he needs to be leaning towards the side rather than just hovering straight on top.” What. Taehyung’s brows lift and he quickly approaches. Your face lights up when you see him. “Oh, hey.” “I was looking for you.” Taehyung throws his arm over your shoulder and subtly tugs you into his chest. He looks at the other man, eyes narrowed in on him which he doesn’t seem to notice. “Sorry, I was just caught up with Jimin.” “What were you talking about?” “What position is best for conception.” You blink innocently like it’s not a big deal you’re exploiting the details about your sex lives to another guy, and while he’s not embarrassed whatsoever, it was a bit too much information being shared for Taehyung’s liking. “Turns out elevating the hips might not help as much as we thought it does.” “Huh.” Taehyung deadpans, “That’s interesting.” “I know, right?” Your expression is bright, oblivious to his turmoil. At the same time, Hyunjin exits from the building in yet another flower crown and flowy skirt. She smiles at the both of you and joins Jimin’s side, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek and holding his hand. “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.” You smile at her. “No, it’s okay.” The woman nods and looks to her partner while her voice drops into a more private tone. “Just wanted to let you know that Taehoon and I are done.” As if to validate her words, a timid yet tall man exits the building and they wave goodbye to one another before he walks off towards the parking lot. Jimin smiles. “Did you have fun?” “Yeah. It was nice.” Both you and Taehyung exchange expressions. He wonders if you’re thinking what he is or if he’s understanding the insinuations correctly. As if they catch the inquisitive looks on your faces, they smile in a relaxed way. There’s no need to explain anything to either of you when you’re strangers, but they’re open enough and Hyunjin says, “Taehoon’s my second partner.” “Second...partner?” “Hyunjin and I are in an open relationship,” Jimin clarifies in a friendly manner. “It’s not really traditional, but it works well for us.” “Oh.” Taehyung and you wordlessly bob your heads. He’s pretty sure they mentioned it during their introduction but it slipped his mind. They must get asked a lot of questions too since Hyunjin answers what he’s thinking, telling the both of you there’s not a lot of jealousy involved since they trust each other wholeheartedly and communicate a lot. And rather than finding it bizarre, you’re left intrigued. Taehyung notices as you walk away. “Do you want an open relationship too?” “You know it would never work for us.” You lean over, hugging his arm. “I’m too possessive for that.” He laughs. “Then what about talking to Jimin about our sex positions?” “He’s a professional.” You shrug. “I thought I could get helpful advice. Why?” “Nothing, it’s just kind of weird.” Jimin doesn’t look like a professional. He looks like just some dude in khaki shorts and a white shirt, obnoxiously bulging biceps, probably has rock hard abs, and he’s in an open relationship and clearly doesn’t mind chatting up you, aka Taehyung’s wife. “Are you jealous?” “What? No.” Taehyung scoffs, suddenly defensive and you give him that look like you know him better than that. “I just don’t think we don’t need to ask for help yet, and at least not about our positions. We’re gonna have a baby one way or another, Y/N. We just have to be patient.” “Tell that to my dying eggs.” You walk off and Taehyung grins. “My sperm’s strong enough that it’ll rescue your dying eggs.” // Evening eventually comes and you try to revel in the surrounding sights, the atmosphere of the entire place and the very cozy yurt you’ve grown to adore. It’s sad knowing that tomorrow you’ll have to depart from the resort. You regret not coming here with a more open mind. That way, you could’ve enjoyed and embraced this place much sooner. “Actually, I’m kind of glad. I’m getting sick of them serving the same food.” You’re shocked at your husband’s apathy. “But it’s antioxidant-rich—” “I just want some fried chicken or a burger.” You scoff. “That’s why the doctor told you to lower your blood sugar and you’re not even over forty yet.” But still, you’re taken aback that he’s not in love with the resort. “Out of everyone, I thought this would’ve been your haven. I was expecting you to beg me to build a cabin here or something to stay.” Taehyung hums, leaning back into the chair. “I’m not saying the resort is bad. As long as I get to spend time with you, I like it. And I like that you like it.” “Psh.” He always knows how to say the right thing, especially when he’s doing it absentmindedly and not trying to get something out of you. You lean over, hand lifting to squeeze his cheeks together and you turn his head to kiss him. Taehyung smiles at the soft and affectionate gesture. But you look at him with half-lidded eyes that mean more. “Wanna ditch?” It’s the final celebration that Jimin and Hyunjin are happily hosting, but you don’t mind leaving for some more quality time with Taehyung, and he happily agrees. The both of you sneak out of the crowd, stumbling back into the yurt, giggly and giddy like you’re still teenagers trying to be stealthy at midnight. Taehyung kisses you silly and soon, your back is hitting the mattress. He almost rips your dress with how hastily he tries to tear it off your head and you’re stuck for a moment until you manage to get it off. But in spite of how childish your antics are or how Taehyung blows raspberries on your tummy, each one of his touches is intimate and loving. He holds your hips down and eats you out until you cum twice. Then you’re flipped onto your stomach with him on top of you — his cock is dug into your pussy, every draw and thrust delicious. Your walls pulse along his length and you moan his name and clutch the sheets with tight fists. You relish in the pressure of his body pressed on top of yours as he pounds into you. It only takes a few minutes before he’s releasing into your womb, cumming hard enough that you feel it too. He rolls off of you, spent, but you gather your energy and hold him down for a second round. You’re a woman on a mission and you’re going to make sure you leave this resort with Kim Taehyung’s baby inside of you.

[Day Five] The final day of the resort has arrived much to your dismay, and you feel sad enough to cry. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done.” “It’s our pleasure.” Hyunjin grins, her arms wrapped around Jimin’s. “We just hope you had a great time at our resort.” “Yes, I really loved it.” “Our doors are always open,” Jimin affirms. “If nothing’s stuck, you can always come back or if you’re ever looking for more siblings for the little one, you can come again too. We’re happy to welcome anyone that’s family back.” You’re moved by their words and much to Taehyung’s dismay, you give a brief embrace to each of them. You also manage to see the newlywed couple, Hoseok and Rose, who are still smiling and somehow look even more in-love than when they arrived. Dahyun and Seokjin, as well, wish you luck on your adventures. “We might be coming back real soon.” The woman sighs, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “That husband of mine is planning to book another trip next month.” “So soon?” Dahyun nods with a long exhale. “I think he’s hoping I’m not pregnant so we can come here again.” Your laugh spurs on her own and you’re able to resonate with the hopelessness of husbands. Everyone is boarding the same bus, but this is the last opportunity to gather when people are getting dropped off from different places. So you make sure to savour the moment, get your last goodbyes in, and Taehyung pulls out his phone to snap several pictures of you for keepsakes. Then, the two of you board the bus with your luggage and settle in your seats. “You know,” you pipe up and Taehyung turns to you. “Even if we didn’t conceive, it was still fun.” He smiles while taking his hand. “Yeah? I’m glad.” Taehyung laces his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder as he, too, leans his head on top of yours. The bus pulls out of the lot and onto the road. Jimin and Hyunjin wave with brilliant grins, and together, you and Taehyung watch the little resort become a particle in the distance.

[Epilogue] This is terrible. Unexpected and spontaneous. “I have bad news.” You’re leaning against the door frame of Taehyung’s office and at your tone of voice, your husband looks away from the computer screen with wide eyes. “Are you divorcing me?” “No.” “Did you lose your job?” “No.” His entire body deflates in a sigh of relief and he leans back, hands grasping the armrests of his swivel chair. “Thank god because I just bought those new shake weights that were shown on TV.” “Yea— wait. What?” Taehyung’s bubbling laughter comes from his chest. “What is it?” He doesn’t notice the stick in your hand, so you throw it at him. Luckily, Taehyung’s reflexes are still in good shape and he claps his hands together, catching the stick before it hits his head. But then his brows furrow in confusion. “You’re probably going to need to wash your hands after that. I peed on it.” He doesn’t answer. Your oblivious husband instead takes a long second to inspect the stick and his pupils dilate. He finally realizes what it is and looks carefully. In the meanwhile, you hitch your breath, feeling unsettled. But then the most enormous smile stretches into his cheeks. It almost looks like his smile is about to break his face. “You’re pregnant,” Taehyung murmurs. “I sure am.” He looks at you. And then the stick. Then he looks at you again. Taehyung searches your expression in alarm as your words echo back to him. “Why is this bad news? D-did you change your mind? Do you not want kids?” You shake your head. “No. This is fantastic news. I just wanted an excuse to go to the retreat again.” He laughs and exhales a long breath. Taehyung scoots his chair over using the heels of his feet and comes to you. He throws his arms around your torso in a secure embrace while his ear is pressed gently to the flat plane of your stomach that’ll soon swell in the coming months. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.” Taehyung’s brown eyes are lit with mirth and you ease into his hug as your fingers comb through his dark locks. Finally, you’re going to be parents. After waiting and hoping for so long, it was now on the horizon. There’s a sense of fear in you both, but you’re overwhelmed with euphoria and excitement. “We can always go back for the next kid.” “I haven’t even had this one yet and you’re already thinking of another.” “I can’t help it.” Taehyung grins, looking up at you and you lean down to kiss his smile. You have a feeling this baby’s going to be loved beyond belief.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fluff #FINALLY i can use the smut tag again looooool #BTS TAEHYUNG AS A SWEET GUY WHO'S NOT AS SWEET IN THE SHEETS #AND OC AS A GRUMBLING SIMP FOR HER HUSBAND

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geminiwritten · 3 years

Text

heatwave ; bucky barnes

fandom: marvel

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: you’re not a huge fan of the hot weather until a certain super soldier finally gets his arse out of bed and gives you a reason to love it

notes: i wrote this over quite a few days so i’m really sorry if its disjointed, and i’m so sorry if its repetitive of my last piece! i’m still trying to get through a bit of writer’s block, so i hope y’all enjoy!

word count: 3359

The heat seemed to wash over you in waves. Pulses of warmth rolling through your body and stealing your breath. Every inch of your skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, drawing all the hydration from your body and draining any energy you might have possessed if it wasn’t for the heatwave currently sweeping through New York City.

“Ugh,” you groaned, your head lulling to the side where Natasha laid, “I think I’m dying.”

She let out a breathy laugh, “You’re not dying.”

“I might be.”

“Oh, come on you two,” Sam hollered from the pool a little way across the balcony, “have some fun for once in your lives!”

Natasha propped herself up on her elbows and squinted over the top of her sunglasses, “With you idiots? No thanks.”

“Why are you always such a killjoy, Romanoff?”

“Why are you always such a pain in the ass, Wilson?” you called back, mimicking Natasha on your elbows.

He scoffed, “That’s rich coming from the whiniest member of the team.”

Your frown deepened, this time out of anger and not because of the bright glare from the sun.

“Watch it, Wilson,” a voice called out from behind you, “or she’ll come over there and kick your ass.”

Both you and Natasha whipped around to find Bucky. He had probably only just woken, his mop of hair tied up into a loose bun with escaped tendrils sticking to the hot skin of his neck and forehead. This time, it wasn’t the heat that knocked the air from your lungs.

“Nice to see you’re alive, Buck,” Steve chuckled as he waded through the pool toward where Sam was leaning against the edge.

Bucky rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to say something smart but having his breath stolen as he stepped out of the shade and into the sun. “Holy shit,�� he gasped, “it’s hot.”

“Sharp observation skills, Einstein,” Natasha quipped.

“At least Barnes will get in the pool unlike you two party poopers,” Sam said, before copping a volleyball to the back of the head thanks to Bruce’s poor aim.

He spun around quickly, ball in hand and ready to hurl it back at his attacker.

“Well then,” Bucky sighed, now standing beside you, “I guess it’s time for a swim.”

He looked down at you sprawled across your towel, one arm draped over your eyes to shield from the sun and the other resting on your bare stomach. You suddenly felt exposed, nervous under the gaze of his pale blue eyes.

“Want to join me?”

Your pulse thudded in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to get in the water with him, but the sound of shouts and spraying water reminded you of the rest of the team.

“I’m sorry, Buck, I’ll have to pass,” you replied.

He pushed his bottom lip forward, “It’s your loss, doll, this heat is a killer.”

Your limbs turned to jelly at the sound of that pet name rolling off his tongue.

“Ugh,” Natasha scoffed beside you, “you two are sickening.”

You wanted to turn around and bite back at her, but what happened next had you paralysed. Every nerve in your body ignited, goosebumps rising across every inch of your skin in spite of the steamy weather. Bucky’s fingers curled under the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head to reveal his sculpted body beneath. His abs rolled and tensed as he rid himself of the material and discarded it on the ground, making your mouth water and your head spin with a thousand different unholy thoughts.

A shriek from the red headed woman beside you broke you out of your trance, and only then did you notice the spray of pool water that had washed over you and most of the balcony.

“You’re an arse, Barnes!” Natasha yelled, standing and angrily snatching up her towel.

You pushed your sunglasses further up your nose as you let your gaze settle on the giggling men in the pool. Bucky’s now wet, broad shoulders glistened under the sunlight, his alabaster skin taught across the landscape of muscle.

“Do you want some lunch or are you just going to keep staring like a creep?” Natasha asked as she stood over you.

Your gaze hardly wavered, “I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed, her lips curling into a smirk, “because I think you’ve got a little bit of drool on your chin there.”

If Bucky wasn’t pulling himself out of the water right at the moment, you might have turned around to poke your tongue at her, but instead you opted for flipping her the bird while your eyes remained trained on the pool area.

The rest of the steamy day went by far too quickly. Despite your hate for the heat, you stayed out on the balcony until the sun began to set. Only when Bucky and Sam wrapped themselves in towels and declared that it was time for dinner did you finally put your book away, not that you had managed to read even a single page of it.

“Is it supposed to be this hot again tomorrow?” Sam asked as the three of you stepped inside.

“Yeah,” you replied, “and the day after.”

“I bet you’re happy about that,” he chuckled, watching disappointment sweep across your face as Bucky pulled his shirt over his head

“Shut up.”

He chuckled at your feeble attempt to jab his side, easily evading your attack.

“Alright, children,” Tony called from the kitchen, “dinner’s ready.”

Like moths to a flame, the rest of the team gathered around the kitchen bench where Natasha and Tony had laid out the pre-cut ingredients for everyone to make their own burgers.

“I’m going to have a shower before eating,” Bucky said, to no one in particular as he draped his damp towel over his forearm.

“Do you need any help?” Sam asked, his grin evil, “Because I’m sure Y/N would love-”

“Sam!” you snapped.

Thankfully, Bucky remained oblivious, his brows knit into an adorable frown.

“Never mind, Buck,” you said, “I’ll make sure they save you some food.”

His face broke into that familiar smile that melted your heart, “Thanks, doll.”

Once again, your legs wobbled like jelly and you had to steady yourself on the back of the lounge.

“Ugh,” Sam groaned, “I can’t wait until they day you two finally fu-”

“Language,” Steve interrupted with a disapproving glare at Sam.

You poked your tongue out before turning toward the array of burger ingredients, your empty stomach rumbling at the sight.

The next day rolled around just as the weather forecast had predicted. The air was thick with humidity and the sun blared down just as it had yesterday. Once again you found yourself on a towel beside the pool, half of the team splashing around while the other half laid languidly in the shade.

“Still not getting in today?” Steve asked as he approached the bar fridge near where you had placed your towel.

You shook your head, “I’d rather not get caught in the crossfire of an overly aggressive game of chicken.”

“I mean, you could play the game with us, maybe even get to climb onto Bucky’s shoulders.”

You whipped around, your glare lethal, “What the fuck, Rogers?”

He chuckled, “Sorry, Sam told me to.”

“You are the last person I would expect to stoop to his level,” you said, crossing your arms indignantly.

He shrugged, “Well, no one has told Buck, if that makes up for anything.”

“I’m guessing everyone else knows, though.”

He didn’t respond, only smiled sheepishly.

“Ugh,” you sighed.

“In my own defence, Natasha told me about your crush months ago and I haven’t let it slip once. It’s been-”

“Sam,” you interrupted him, “I know.”

He took a generous sip of water before crouching beside you, “For what it’s worth, I think you should tell him how you feel.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

Steve knew he couldn’t say anymore. He knew nothing he said would convince you to tell Bucky how you felt, and he knew he couldn’t betray his best friend’s trust by divulging the fact that Bucky really had confessed his feelings for you before. He decided to let you be, gathering three more bottles of water before heading back to the pool.

The day passed almost identically to the one before it, and so did the next. It wasn’t until two o’clock in the morning on the third night of the heatwave that you felt a sudden change. You awoke abruptly, a shiver running down your spine as cool air blew through the open window and brushed across your bare skin. You frowned at the night sky before tiredly pulling your duvet up to your chin and falling back asleep.

By morning, the heat was well and truly gone. Clouds blanketed New York City, threatening to rain as they rolled angrily across the grey sky.

“I guess it’s back to work today, Avengers,” Tony said from behind his tablet.

Almost everyone was awake, crowded around the kitchen bench awaiting Clint’s famous French toast.

“What work?” Peter asked.

“Homework for you, kid,” Steve replied, earning an indignant frown from Peter.

You couldn’t help but giggle into your mug of coffee, before almost spraying it back out at the sight that then exited the elevator.

Bucky. Shirtless. Again.

You began to wonder what you had done to be so lucky, your heart thrumming against your rib cage so hard you worried that someone might hear it.

“Oh, my, Barnes,” Tony gasped, “you know it’s still in the A.M., right?”

Bucky simply rolled his tired eyes before slumping onto the lounge, mumbling, “Hungry.”

It wasn’t long before Clint served breakfast, everyone scoffing their food as if they hadn’t eaten in days, and soon after that, Peter dismissed himself for school and Tony and Bruce made their way to the lab.

“I think I need to get back into the gym today,” Clint sighed, stretching his arms above his head.

You sighed, “Same.”

“Bucky and I were planning on heading down there in the afternoon actually, we could do a group training session,” Steve said as he filled the sink, ready to wash everyone’s dishes.

“I’m in,” Natasha replied, “I was going to head into town for some groceries this morning, so the afternoon is better for me.”

“Yeah, alright,” Clint added, “Count me in.”

“Me too,” Sam said through his last mouthful of toast, “and obviously Y/N will be there too.”

You turned to him quickly, a frown already etched between your brows, “What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckled, “Steve said that he and Bucky were planning it, so obviously you-”

You elbowed him sharply in the gut before standing from your seat at the dining table and stomping over to the kitchen.

Natasha sighed, “You better be careful, Wilson, you’re playing with fire.”

“But it’s so obvious that they both like each other, why can’t they just fuck already.”

Steve’s ears turned red and Natasha laughed, but neither of them seemed to notice as Bucky finally made his way over from the living area.

“Who needs to fuck already?” he asked, brows knit.

“No one,” Steve answered quickly, “Tony wants help moving a new delivery, I said we’d help him out. Come on.”

He ushered the confused Bucky out of the room, but not before shooting daggers at Sam.

After breakfast you decided to go with Natasha into town. The compound was running low on a few things that Tony always forgot to add to the weekly grocery delivery, so you took your time shopping and chatting. It was nice to simply enjoy the feeling of not having sweat drip from every inch of your skin, though you couldn’t help mourning the sticky weather that would encourage Bucky to constantly walk around shirtless.

It was almost four o’clock when you finally changed into your workout gear and headed for the gym. Most of the team were already in there, and those that weren’t had kindly declined the offer of a group training session.

Steve, Sam, Tony, and Bucky were gathered around the sparring mats each taking turns at attacking the training dummy, while Clint was over by the weights alone. You quickly found Wanda and Natasha on the treadmills and decided to start there.

“Afternoon,” Wanda greeted you, her smile sweet as she swiped the sweat from her brow.

You grinned back, “Fancy seeing you out of your room.”

“I don’t do heat,” she said, “but Nat has just been telling me about how much you’ve been enjoying it.”

You tossed your gym towel at her, gasping, “Oh, shut up!”

The two red heads giggled, thankfully too amused to notice the way your eyes drifted across the gym to where Bucky was training.

After almost an hour on the treadmill, chatting idly about nothing in particular with Nat and Wanda, Steve called the team to attention. Everyone moved in from around the gym, forming a misshapen circle around the sparring mats that he and Clint had just hauled from the storage room.

“It’s a bit stuffy in here,” Sam said as he plopped down on the floor and began stretching his legs out in front of him, “is the air on, Tony?”

Tony, who was chugging half a bottle of water, simply shrugged and waved haphazardly at the control panel by the main entry doors.

“I’ll check it,” you offered before turning on your heel.

You tapped the screen and it came to life, but the display wasn’t the same as the one in your room. It had more options and dials for more variables than just the temperature, but on the top right of the screen was a little green button that you assumed meant it was on. You chose the dial that looked like it controlled the fan speed and turned it all the way up.

“All good, Y/N?” Steve called.

You nodded before hurrying back to the group, bending your right leg up to your buttocks in a quick stretch. Steve and Nat then took their positions in the middle of the circle and began demonstrating the fight sequences that they wanted the team to practice.

“Now partner up, pick a mat, and practice until you can do it as fast as you can,” Steve said, before looking directly at Sam, “without hurting each other.”

Sam sighed with exasperation as he turned to his partner, Bucky. You turned to Wanda while Nat joined Clint on a mat and Tony stepped up to where Steve was. Each pair started slowly mimicking the moves that had just been demonstrated.

“It is hot in here,” Wanda said, her breath heavy as she ducked your fist.

You simply nodded, too focused on your movements to be able to speak.

Grunts, huffs, and the thud of heavy feet on the vinyl mats echoed throughout the gym for fifteen minutes before Steve called a break. You practically dove for your water bottle, only to choke on the first mouthful of water when Bucky yanked his sweat-soaked shirt over his head. Wanda caught your eye, giggling as you spluttered.

“I thought the heatwave was over,” Clint said.

Tony nodded, “It is, I think the air-con is playing up.”

“It’s broken?” Wanda gasped.

He shrugged, opening his mouth to respond but stopping when Steve spoke first, “Alright, enough chatting, let’s get back into it.”

Over the next thirty minutes, Wanda’s fist made contact with your shoulder, your abdomen, and almost your jaw if she hadn’t quickly noticed that you were too distracted to block her swing. Her foot then collided with your hip twice before she finally gave in on trying to get your attention.

Your eyes were glossed over and glued to the super soldier duelling Sam. His exposed skin glistened with sweat, muscles rippling under taught, alabaster skin. His stare was hard, eyes almost grey as they narrowed on every move that Sam made. Your palms began to sweat, knees wobbling as you watched his tongue swipe quickly across his pink lips.

“Y/N!” Wanda snapped, her fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to face her, “focus.”

“Shit, sorry,” you muttered.

You raised your shaky hands, trying to block out the shirtless man still in your peripheral vision.

By the time Steve called the training session to an end, the air was almost as dense as the storm clouds outside. Everyone was soaked in their own sweat, hair clinging to sticky skin and muscles beneath burning from use.

“I swear to God, Tony,” Wanda said as she draped her towel over her shoulder, “if the air-con is broken, I’m not going to let you sleep until it’s fixed.”

He chuckled, fingers already moving swiftly across the tablet in his lap, “It’s not broken.”

“Then what the fuck is this?” Sam exclaimed, arms gesturing wildly toward the gym’s huge windows that were completely veiled in condensation.

Tony nodded toward you, “Y/N turned the temperature up instead of down.”

Heat blossomed in your chest, crawling up your neck and to the tips of your ears. Every pair of eyes landed on you, a mixture of irritation and amusement etched across the faces of your teammates.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I got confused.”

Most of the group simply chuckled or shrugged, collecting their things and heading for the door, but Sam took his time. The devilish smirk adorning his lips made your pulse begin to race.

“Far out, Y/N,” he said, “you didn’t have to torture all of us just to get Barnes to take his clothes off.”

Your eyes went wide, brows shooting up toward your hairline as every coherent thought left your head. Your heart pounded deafeningly in your ears.

The team was suddenly silent, those closest to the door hurrying out and the rest quickly rushing after them. Wanda stuck her elbow into Sam’s side before dragging him out by his shirt collar.

Bucky remained, paralysed feet still glued to the ground as he quickly tried to catch up on what had just happened.

“Sam was just joking,” you finally managed to speak, “he’s an arse.”

Bucky blinked slowly, “Yeah… such an arse.”

You nodded, mouth dry as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, “Okay, well, I’ve got to-”

“He is an arse,” Bucky interrupted you, blue eyes wide with curiosity, “but he doesn’t usually lie.”

You didn’t know what to say, your nervous fingers tangling behind your back. His stare was heavy, pressing down on your shoulders and holding you still as he slowly stepped closer.

“Do you like me?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I like you, Buck, you’re-”

“No,” one last step and his breath fanned the exposed skin of your neck, “do you-”

This time, it was your turn to interrupt. Every bit of pent-up tension and suppressed desire propelled you toward him, coming up onto the balls of your feet and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. Your lips crashed into his, so hard you might have worried about bruising them if the thought of a mark left by Bucky wasn’t so thrilling.

He hesitated only for a moment before his hands found your waist, practically lifting you off the ground and squashing your body against his. Your fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue glided across your bottom lip, begging for entry. A low, almost feral growl rumbled up from his chest once you allowed him in, tongues clashing.

You only parted when breath became absolutely necessary, your lungs burning for air. He let you back onto your own feet, though his strong arms stayed wound around your waist.

“Um, yeah,” you said between gulps of air, “I really like you, Buck.”

He chuckled, “Well, that’s a relief because I really like you too.”

He pressed his lips to yours once more before pulling away completely and wrapping his gym towel around his shoulders.

“I need a shower,” he said, taking your hand in his and tugging you toward the door, “and it’s your turn to take your clothes off now.”

END.

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ssa-pretty-boy · 4 years

Text

Love and Thunder

Summary: When a thunderstorm rolls in and the power goes out what will Spencer and his girlfriend do to pass the time?

Word Count: 4.4k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smuttttttt - fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT KIDS), penetrative sex

——

The smell of coming rain had been in the air for days. So when dark clouds rolled in, threatening to open up at any given moment, no one really gave it a second thought. But as the day progressed the normal hustle and bustle of the city grew into something more palpable, its people trying to get indoors before the torrential down pour that was sure to come.

Spencer Reid was no exception. Though there was something about a good thunderstorm that he found extremely relaxing, he didn’t want to be caught outside in one. Like the rest of the city’s inhabitants he was speed walking down the concrete sidewalks, eternally grateful that his apartment was only a couple of blocks away from his metro stop.

He managed to make it into the lobby of his building just as the first drops of rain started to sprinkle down. With a grateful sigh, he shucked off his rain coat as he watched the droplets slide down the glass door. The drizzle was slow and lazy, honestly more like a fine mist than true rain. Maybe this was just going to be an average summer rain shower after all.

Taking the stairs two at a time up to the fourth floor, he made it to the last landing with an astonishing amount of grace. For someone who was as uncoordinated as Spencer tended to be, it was a surprise even to himself he made it without so much as stumbling. He unlocked the door and was greeted with the sound of pots and pans clinking together coming from the kitchen. Rounding the corner into his tiny kitchen he saw Y/N at the stove, stirring what smelt like pasta sauce with one hand and holding an open book up to her face with the other. She was mouthing the words as she read and Spencer smiled, he found it incredibly endearing and told her as much as he left his satchel and raincoat on the small table tucked into the corner of the room.

Y/N laughed, glancing up over the top of her book with a warm smile as he came over to her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and settled his chin on the top of her head. “Wasn’t expecting you home yet.”

The book forgotten, she tossed it to the counter and leaned back into him, tilting her head up to place a soft kiss on the underside of his jaw. “I was just extra help today so I got cut loose early because of the storm.”

He hummed again, certainly not complaining that his girlfriend was home. “What are you making?”

She took the wooden spoon out of the pot and held it up to Spencer’s mouth for him to taste, smiling when he groaned and nodded his approval. “My mom sent me a new recipe for a creole Alfredo sauce. Everything else is ready so I just have to it throw in and let it simmer for a few minutes. Why don’t you go wash up and I’ll start setting the table.”

——

When Spencer and Y/N were in each other’s company, they had a habit of blocking out the rest of the world. Spencer had always thought it sounded lame and cheesy when he heard couples say such things but when he met Y/N he understood it instantly. They were just so comfortable around each other, so…compatible, that nothing else mattered to them as long as the other was happy. Especially when they were in the comfort of their own home.

They had been so wrapped up in each other, in fact, that they failed to notice the changing atmosphere outside. It wasn’t until they settled into bed for the night, when Spencer finally flipped on the TV and mindlessly turned to the weather channel in hopes of seeing a sunny forecast for the following day, that he realized just how intense this storm was going to get. So much for that picnic in the park with Derek, Savannah, and Hank they’d so been looking forward to. Spencer studied the swirling diagram of colors, noting that area which he and his girlfriend called home was already far into the red and it didn’t look like they would be in the green any time soon.

A flash of lightening brought his attention away from the television and towards the window on Y/N’s side of the bed. Pushing the thick duvet back, Spencer climbed from the warmth of the bed and padded towards the window. He reached out with a little hesitance and pulled the curtains back, eyes widening at what he saw on the other side of the glass. Several of the small trees lining the street had been blown over, the street itself in front of the building was flooded, and a few blocks away it looked as though the power had gone out.

“It’s nasty out there,” he mumbled more to himself than Y/N. She was so preoccupied with painting her toenails, a shade of deep red that Spencer secretly found incredibly sexy, that she hadn’t even noticed him get out of bed to walk over to the window.

“Is it?” She wasn’t really paying him any mind as she finished painting her left pink toe, the very tip of her tongue sticking out between her lips in concatenation as she did so.

He mumbled a soft ‘yeah’ as he sat down in front of her. Grinning at him, Y/N leaned back against the headboard of the bed and screwed the cap back onto her nail polish before tossing it into the small canvas bag sitting on her bedside table.

“You like?” The question was rhetorical, she knew how much he liked the color on her and maybe she picked out specially for that reason. She lifted her foot just in front of his face and wiggled her toes to show off the color of the polish.

Smirking at her, Spencer grabbed ahold of her ankle and pulled her down the bed closer to him, laughing at the squeal that the action got from her. Holding her foot up to his mouth, he pressed a kiss to each toe before slowly beginning to kiss up her foot to her calve then her thigh, all the way up to her waiting lips. “I fucking love it.”

He let put a playful growl as he dove into the crook of her neck and began to place sloppy wet kisses all over the exposed skin, his fingers ghosting over her sides to start tickling her relentlessly. Her giggles ringing out through the small bedroom were like the most beautiful music he’d ever heard. Their playful fun was cut short though by a bright flash of lightening that washed the room in a bluish hue, both of their head snapping towards the window. Holding his breath, Spencer began to count in anticipation for the clap of thunder that was sure to come.

1…

2…

3…

4…

There was the deafening crack of thunder he had been waiting on. It sounded like it was directly over head, the very walls of the building seeming to quake. Y/N let out a squeak, clutching onto Spencer’s biceps for dear life as she hid her face in his chest.

Trying to lighten the mood however he could, he laughed and and pulled back to look at her face. “It’s alright, sweet girl. Just a little thunder and lightning, nothing to be scared of. Well, there’s no need to be afraid of thunder, anyway, seeing as though its really just a sound caused by the lightning. Lightning, on the other hand, can be quite dangerous if-”

With a playful swat to his chest, she silenced him. “As much as I usually love your facts and tangents, that one really didn’t help. Like at all. You know how I am about bad weather! It just freaks me out a little." She admitted the last bit sheepishly, no matter how many times he assured her she had no reason to be embarrassed by her fear of storms, she still hated to admit it. Everyone is afraid of something, he always told her.

Brown eyes flashing, he looked down at her with a smirk before leaning back back down and pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth before working his way to her jaw.

“Well then, why don’t we do something to take you mind off of it, hm?” He was kissing her throat again as he suggested it, pressing the words into the column of her neck with wet, open mouthed kisses. Her head was already swimming, thoughts foggy as his mouth trailed lower, pulling at the collar of her shirt to get access to her collar bones now. The only response she was able to supply him with was a mumbled “mhm” and a shuddering gasp as his cold hands slipped under her T-shirt to find her bare chest, much more purposeful than the playful tickling had been. His thumbs ghosted over her nipples and she arched into touch, moaning when he pinched the hardening peaks between his thumbs and forefingers.

Just as he pulled the old Caltech shirt off of her, the lamps on either side of the bed along with the TV began to flicker. “Shit,” he cursed as he rolled off of her. “The power is probably about to go.”

Spencer stood from the bed and grabbed his phone from the bedside table just as the electricity flickered off entirely. Switching on the flashlight that was built into his phone, he shone it into Y/N’s face. She squinted into the light, holding up her hands to shield her eyes from the blinding brightness. “I’m going to go get some candles and a lighter. Stay in here, bubs.”

Quickly making his way down the dark hallway, Spencer headed for the hoard of scented candles he knew Y/N had stashed in the linen closet. He scanned the shelves, and spied the decorative basket tucked into the corner of the top shelf. Honestly, he didn’t even want to know how Y/N had managed to get up there. Even for as tall as he was, he had to stand on his tip-toes to reach it.

He pulled the basket down and rummaged through it, crinkling his nose at a few of the names… Pink Sand, Midnight Cashmere, Home Sweet Home. Why did they all have to have weird names? Why couldn’t they just be named what they were supposed to smell like? Eventually he gave up on trying to find normal ones, just deciding to take the entire basket before going to the kitchen to retrieve a lighter from the junk drawer under the microwave.

Once back in their bedroom, Spencer began to scatter the candles all over the small space, lighting them as he went. Before long the entire room was aglow with a soft, flickering light. After finally lighting the last few, he tossed the lighter down onto the dresser before going to flop onto the bed next to Y/N.

Still half naked, she was sitting up with her knees pulled her to chest and staring absentmindedly out of the window. She was too busy worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and watching the rain slap against the glass to pay the slightest bit of attention to Spencer. So he turned onto his side and took the opportunity to watch her.

Right arm propping his head up, he shamelessly let his eyes rake over her from the top of her head all the way to the tips her toes. On their fifth date, he’d noted that candle light made her look ten times as gorgeous as she already was. The tiny flickering flames illuminated her features in ways a light bulb or even the sun failed do. Every date night he had planned since usually involved a lot of candles for that very reason.

Not being able to resist the temptation any longer, Spencer reached up and cupped her cheek in his hand. Y/N turned her face into his palm and pressed a kiss to the center of it. Their eyes locked and Spencer swore he felt his heart swell in his chest as she stared down at him with what could only be called adoration. It was funny how time seemed to stop completely when she looked at him like that. Like he hung the stars and the moon in the sky just for her. It made him feel like he could fly.

She moved to lie down facing him, so close that their noses were just centimeters apart, and ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders. The muscles of his arms tensed in the wake of her touch and she batted her lashes up him, feigning total innocence at her actions as his pupils blew wide. Her hands slid back down his chest, her nails pressing into him just hard enough to leave faint red lines in their wake. “I think we were doing something a minute ago.”

“Yeah, I think we were.” His words were husky as he cupped her cheeks in his hands again and leaned in to kiss her. Winding her arms around his neck, she pulled him on top of her and he fell to rest perfectly between her thighs.

One of his hands slipped into her hair and gripped tightly at the roots, snapping her head back so that he could have even more access to her throat and jaw. A wanton moan accompanied the sharp sting of her nails raking over his shoulders when he bit down hard enough to bruise. He bit and sucked relentlessly at her pulse point, fully intending to give her a rather spectacular hickey to sport the next day at work. When he pulled away to inspect his work he smirked at the mark, his thumb brushing over it with just enough pressure to have her whimpering.

Becoming desperate for some sort of relief from the growing tension between her legs, she started grinding herself down onto Spencer’s thigh. The cocky bastard was smirking down at her as his iron grip forced her hips back down onto the mattress. She was already so blissed out she didn’t even realize his hands had left her neck and hair. “Be patient, princess.”

The use of the pet name had her eyes fluttering shut, the asshole knew the effect it had on her and used it to his advantage every change he got. Kissing her swollen lips once more, he pulled away and sat back on his calves to drink in the sight of her; pupils blown wide, lips red and swollen. When she looked like this, all flustered just from his touches and kisses, Spencer could barely control himself. Before going to crawl back over her, he grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and quickly tugged it over his head before tossing it to join her’s on the floor.

Y/N sat up on her knees, meeting him in the middle of the bed, to kiss him. It was feverish and sloppy, their teeth clashing and nipping at each other’s lips. Both were breathless when they finally parted, heads swimming from the lack of oxygen.

Placing a firm hand on her chest, Spencer pushed her back to lie back down on the bed. Hovering over her again, he dipped his head down to her chest and took her one of her nipples into his mouth. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as he bit down and tugged at it. He released her after a moment and laved over the bite marks with his tongue before he moved to her other breast. She arched up into his touch, hands tangling in his hair as he continued to lavish her chest with attention.

“I love your tits,” he told her shamelessly, placing a kiss on each raw nipple before licking up the valley between them.

Despite the filthiness of the words and actions, she snorted out a laugh and shoved his head away from her chest. He was laughing as he pulled away, “I do though!”

“I know you do. And I love your cock but I would really love if it were inside me right now.” She reached down and started palming him through his pajama pants to emphasize her point.

“Remember what I said about having p-patience?” He choked on the words as she gripped him tighter, his head dropping forward onto her shoulder as he shuddered. When he lifted his head back up his cheeks were flushed and his pupils had blown so wide there was only a thin ring of honey brown surrounding them.

He sat back and hooked his fingers into the waist band of her sleep shorts and underwear and jerked them down her legs. When she was completely naked under him, he cupped her sex and practically growled,“I want to play a little first.”

The words alone were enough to have her moaning and bucking up into his hand, aching for some sort of friction. Spencer ran his middle finger up her slit, gathering her arousal on the digit before bringing it up to her mouth. Without having to be told, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, taking his finger in her mouth and moaning at the taste of herself as she sucked it clean.

She released him with a soft ‘pop’ and he instantly brought his hand back down to her core. He ran the same finger up her slit again, ghosting over her clit with a few slow, lazy circles this time. Y/N gasped, her hands flying to Spencer’s biceps as he slowly slid the offending digit into her and began to pump it in and out of her.

She moaned out, arching her back off the bed as he started to pick up the pace, curling it up to perfectly stroke against her front wall each time. “More.” It came out as more of a breathless moan than an actual word but Spencer understood her none the less. “Gimme another one, Spence.”

“So fucking needy, aren’t you?” Despite the comment he complied with her request instantly. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe as he slipped another long, nimble finger into her aching heat, not even bothering to give her a chance to acclimate to the slight stretch. Spencer’s fingers were fucking into her at a relentless pace, still curling them at just the right angle to have her seeing stars. She had asked for more and damn if he wasn’t delivering.

She was slack jawed as her eyes were rolled back in her head and god damn he had never been happier to have an eidetic memory. The look on her face was going to be what got him off when he was in those cold, lonely hotel rooms across the country.

“Ah god,” she was panting now, her chest heaving as she chased after her high. “Please don’t stop. Please. Please. Please, Spence.”

He added his thumb to her clit and started pressing small, tight circles to the swollen bundle of nerves. A lewd moan ripped from her throat as her hips bucked up into his hand, much to Spencer’s amusement. With a deep chuckle, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Please what, princess? Use your words.”

A delicious warmth started to settle in her belly as she clenched around around his fingers and Spencer had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at the tightness. “Please let me cum. Please,” she was begging, her voice raw and breathless. And he would be lying through his fucking teeth if he said it didn’t go straight to his cock. He hummed and sped up his fingers, still making sure to curl upward with each thrust.

Stars flashed in front of her eyes as that warmth in her belly burst into a full blown flame, the fire licking up her body from her toes all the way to her head. Her nails dug into Spencer’s tensed biceps as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her, milking her high for all it was worth. Even as the pleasure started to ebb, he kept up his ministrations to the point where her mewling moans turned into whimpers. She was spasming around his fingers, her walls gripping so tightly around him that he couldn’t help the bucking of his hips into the mattress below them.

“S-Spencer,” she moaned, her hands finally finding his and trying to shove him away. She could already feel another orgasm building, riding the tails of the aftershocks from the first.

“C’mon,” he purred. “You can do it, baby. Give me another one.”

Her skin felt like it was on fire as her toe curling second orgasm hit her. She was trembling as Spencer worked her through it, his fingers slowing and eventually pulling away from her aching pussy altogether. Another lewd moan was the only sound she could manage at the loss of contact.

“You did so good, princess,” he mumbled as he pressed sweet kisses to the side of her face while she came back down to earth. “You took my fingers so well. Think you can handle my cock now, baby?”

Bleary eyes fluttered open to look up at him and she nodded slowly. Spencer smirked down at her and made quick work of wiggling out of his pajama pants. Y/N reached down to take him in her hand but he swatted her away. His cock was aching and he knew if she took him in her very capable hands he wouldn’t last long at all. “Trust me baby, I’m good to go.”

Grabbing her by her forearm, Spencer hauled her up to sit on her knees before climbing back on the bed behind her. Still fucked out and pliable, she didn’t fight it when he put a firm hand between her shoulder blades and pushed her face down into the mattress. With one hand firmly planted on her hip and the other gripping his dick, he lined himself up with her entrance and slowly pushed in.

Every nerve ending in her body felt like it was a live wire; everywhere he touched he left fire in his wake. She was a mewling mess beneath him as he set a slow but purposeful pace, pulling out almost completely before slamming back into her. There were sure to be finger shaped bruises along her hips in the morning but she didn’t care, couldn’t care as he started pounding into her like his only purpose in life was to fuck her into sweet, sweet oblivion.

“Fuck,” he panted, “you feel so fucking good, baby. So tight and warm.”

The sound of skin slapping and Y/N moans filled the room as he settled into a quick and brutal rhythm, his hips snapping forward even harder. One of his hands slid up her back and gripped onto the back of her neck, hauling her back to rest against his chest. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, her eyes screwing shut at the deeper angle the position allowed. He was so deep and she swore she could feel him in her belly when he took her this way.

“Nu-huh,” he breathed in her ear, thrusts not faltering in the slightest. The hand on the back of her neck came to grip her jaw and turn her head towards the mirror resting on the dresser directly across from the bed. “I want you to watch yourself get wrecked.”

Her eyes fluttered open and looked at her reflection in the mirror, moaning at what she saw staring back at her. The hand he had on her hip slid around her and dipped down to spread her open so they could better see where he was fucking into her.

“Touch yourself for me,” he told her, his voice husky and commanding. She did as she was told, sticking her fingers in her mouth first to wet them with her tongue before bringing them down to her clit and swirling them in small, quick circles. With a particularly sharp thrust Y/N was cumming again, crying out as her vision went completely white this time around.

Her walls clamped down around his cock like a vice and Spencer’s head dropped to her shoulder as he groaned, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. “S-Shit. I’m right behind you, baby, just hold on.”

A couple of thrusts later he was cumming, groaning out a string of curses as he spilled into her. His arms around her waist were the only thing keeping her upright as they caught their breath. As gently as he could manage, he pulled out of her and her lie down before collapsing to the mattress beside her.

After a few minutes of basking in their afterglow, Spencer pressed a kiss to the crown of Y/N’s head before he got out of the bed to get a washcloth to clean her up. As he turned off the faucet he realized there was a sudden lack of howling wind and pouring rain. Making his way back into the bedroom, he peeked out the window before returning to bed.

“It stopped storming,” he mused as he gently brought the warm washcloth up between Y/N’s legs.

She winced at the sensation but was otherwise quiet for a moment before admitting, “Honestly, I had forgotten it was even storming in the first place.”

Mission accomplished then, Spencer thought to himself with a soft chuckle as he tossed the washcloth in the hamper next to the dresser. He settled back down on the bed with her, pulling her back to him. He had just about drifted off to sleep when Y/N started to giggle uncontrollably. He peaked an eye open to look down at her as her shoulders started to shake from the fit of laughter.

“God, the neighbors probably thought we were making a porno.” She was still laughing as she said it but knew fully well that the elderly couple next door probably did hear them. And would no doubt make comments about it the next time they ran into each other in the stairwell.

A wicked grin took over his face as he looked down at her and laughed, “Now there’s an idea.”

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction

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joontier · 3 years

Text

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xiv

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: none to note

word count: 2.4k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

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Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

“Do you really have to leave me?” you drag the words out as you chew your dinner, one you insisted on having inside Ayoung’s apartment on her last day. You even add a cute little pout afterwards, hoping that Ayoung might reconsider her moving last minute.

“_________, that was literally the third time you asked me tonight. One more and I think I might change my mind.”

You sit up straighter, an expectant look on your face. “Really?”

“I’m afraid not, __________. I’m even surprised you kept asking when you literally helped me pack the last of my stuff. Shouldn’t you have been doing the opposite if you wanted me to stay?”

You let out a rather unattractive burp and a pretty loud one at that, then you sigh again for the nth time tonight, knowing it’s going to be a while before you find another neighbor that is as unbothered by your poor table etiquette as Ayoung.

Speaking of neighbors, a coworker’s face pops into your mind and you’re suddenly reminded of your embarrassing encounter with Jungkook just the other day in the very corridor just a door away from where you were seated. “By the way...that guy you brought over the other day…”

“Oh him?”

You brace yourself for the bad news, tilting your head towards Ayoung while you wait for her response. “Yeah, I don’t think he’ll be moving in anytime soon.”

“Oh,” comes your reply, shockingly nonchalant enough to mask the joy of not having Jungkook as your neighbor. Giddy, you prod her on, wanting to hear the rest of the story. “Shame though, he was such a hottie.”

“How did you even meet him in the first place?”

“Just last week I went to a cafe to study and partly cure a hangover from the previous night, I checked the post I uploaded for new possible tenants and Jungkook...that’s his name by the way...he was one of the first who sent a message about wanting to see the apartment in person, so we agreed to meet up on a later date.” Ayoung pauses for a moment, stacking a box on top of another.

“But just a few moments later while I was reading, this boy came up to me and asked if I was...well me and he told me he was Jungkook. Eventually, he asked if I was free because he mentioned that he had nothing else to do that day and he would’ve appreciated it if he got to see the place and have a drink at the same time.”

There’s a funny look on her face and you raise a brow questioningly. “Have you ever seen a man more attractive in just sweats?” Oh Christ.

“I mean, most guys would look like a hobo in those, plus he’s probably dumb for just walking around in sweats with only 25 degrees outside but damn.... You know only truly hot men can pull off looks like that. And he surely was packing.” Shocked to the core, you stare at her with your mouth hanging open, not wanting to believe all of these were coming from your sweet sweet Ayoung. Especially not when they’re about Jungkook.

“So I thought, why not right? I guess the hot chocolate I made wasn’t the only thing that was warm that night…” A suggestive smirk graces her lips and you scoot farther away from her, absolutely scandalized.

Much to your chagrin, your mind betrays you with rather raunchy images. Goosebumps line the skin on your arms as the embarrassment comes back to you in waves. “Gosh Jungkook, that little fucker.”

Ayoung creases her brows. “You know Jungkook?”

Crap. Ayoung wasn’t supposed to end up knowing this.

“Yeah I know him. Sort of.”

“Oh, too bad. It would have been great if he moved in so you won’t have to deal with a total stranger for a neighbor. Where do you know Jungkook from?”

You contemplate for a moment, wanting to weigh if it would be of any benefit having to tell the story of how you met Jungkook. Ultimately, you ended up sharing a brief background, missing out on a few vital points aka Jungkook being a total prick.

You help Ayoung bring down the rest of her stuff to the lobby, wanting to see her off. “I wanted to bring you to your new apartment but I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, and being late won’t be a good record this early in my job.”

“It’s alright, silly.” Ayoung leans in for a hug. “We’ll see each other again soon, yeah?”

“You’re making it sound like I’m moving overseas, stop it!”

You wait until she gets inside the cab she booked, waving at the car’s rear until it fully disappears from your sight.

The next day you wake up freezing your ass off, even with you wrapped in a duvet burrito. You take a peek outside your window, grunting as a blanket of snow envelops everything in sight. Everything is white, and the gray trails on the road are the only thing that distinguishes the street from the sidewalk.

You do your morning routine fairly quickly, spending the rest of your spare time watching people outside your window while you finish your coffee. As a motorbike moves along the length of the street in front of your building, you silently wish the driver a safe trip, hoping he or she didn’t have to use such a vehicle in this weather.

You take another sip and Jimin instantly enters your scrambled thoughts, remembering how he mentioned he uses a scooter to and from work. There’s a side of you that is assured the Jimin is responsible enough to know how risky it is to use a scooter during the winter.

The other half of your brain, though, isn’t convinced. Quickly, you set your mug aside, replacing it with your phone and dialing Jimin’s number. He answers after three rings. “_________?”

“Hey Jimin, I know it’s too early for me to be calling you but I was wondering if you were going to use your scooter on your way to work today?”

“I was--”

“Because if you were planning to, don’t. It’s snowing really hard outside and I’m worried you’ll be taking your friend’s scooter on the slippery road….Would you mind if I’ll offer you a ride?”

You know you were risking a lot, with your own car - your very own Camry which you don’t even trust. It has aged gracefully, and was clearly nearing its end but you knew four wheels was better than two in this snow.

“I don’t...but I also wouldn’t want you to come all the way here to pick me up when I can just take the subway? Or the bus maybe…”

“Would you rather pick one that asks for a fare or a free ride?”

“You’re not exactly giving me a choice here, _________.”

“Great! ‘Cause I’m already on my way to pick you up.”

“Thank you for the ride, sunbaenim.” Jungkook pulls on the handbrake before setting his hands on the Porsche’s steering wheel for the last time.

‘Someday’, he says to himself, someday he’ll get a car of his own. Someday.

“Thank you for also letting me drive your car…”

“She’s a beaut isn’t she?” the younger doctor nods, wanting to rub his palms over the dashboard in fascination, but then he wouldn’t have wanted the senior resident to think he was some sort of lunatic.

Jungkook decides to keep his hands on his lap instead.

“You live around the area?”

“Yeah, just a few blocks from the garage…”

“Really? Which apartment do you live in? I’m quite familiar with the area.”

Jungkook is hesitant to mention the name of the building knowing that the apartment complex he stays at most likely has a reputation because it’s the cheapest he could find around the area.

Before the intern opens his mouth to reply, Seokjin’s phone rings just on time, the sound startling the latter. He opens the car door and alights from the vehicle to get more reception. Jungkook grabs his bag from the back and follows after shortly. Seokjin points to his phone, mouthing that Jungkook doesn’t need to wait for him, so the intern bows to his senior in gratitude, before heading off to the main building.

As he passes a vending machine, he remembers he wasn’t able to bring his jug with him today so he approaches the machine, scanning other options he could take with his water. He comes across a small carton of banana milk and a thought crosses his mind, a smirk playing on his lips as he adds the beverage to his purchase.

Jungkook hurries to the on-call room, hoping his tiny plan will fall into place.

“Thanks for the ride, ________. I owe you so much already. You’re too kind.”

You wave Jimin off, expressing your worry and how you thought you wouldn’t be able to handle your conscience if you didn’t ask about his mode of transportation to work today. Jimin gives you a warm smile in return.

“You’re a good friend, _________.” Jimin leans over the center console and gives you an awkward side hug, catching you completely off guard.

“Woops! Sorry! I didn’t… wasn’t…” Jimin has his hands waving around in the air as he tries to apologize for hugging you out of the blue. “It’s fine, Jimin,” you laugh as you put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”

Tilting your head outside, you tell him that you both should get going and that you’ll be heading to the toilet first to get changed. While Jimin heads to the surgery department, you make your way to the parking lot’s toilets, bumping into the one and only banana-milk-thief Jeon Jungkook.

“Hi _________, good morning!” He chirps, the uncharacteristically wide smile on his face throwing you off for a moment.

At least somebody woke up on the right side of the bed today. Jungkook chuckles, and you realize you weren’t supposed to say that out loud, but you’re somewhat proud that you did, making your sentiments towards the guy as clear as day.

“Bit rich coming from you miss grumpypants.”

Your mouth falls open. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, darling. See ya later....grumpy.” Before Jungkook leaves, he manages to give you a quick noogie, definitely messing up what’s left of the quick messy bun you made before leaving your apartment.

Taking in a deep, long breath, you calm your nerves down, deciding today wasn’t going to be the day Jungkook was gonna get to you.

After your brief encounter at the parking lot, Jungkook heads quickly to the on-call room and looks for a place inconspicuous but visible enough for you to see. He plucks a sticky note from a stack from the shelf just above the table and grabs his pen from his chest pocket.

Jungkook folds the yellow square into half and writes your name on it, just in case nobody would dare take a carton of milk for someone named after a dwarf from Snow White. He then sticks the note on the moist packaging, hopeful that the slight sheen of water will help stick the paper onto the carton.

Recognizing Jimin’s voice from the door, Jungkook quickly hides his peace offering behind the files on the table, and pretends he’s reading the patient’s charts before Jimin nears where he’s standing. You and Soomin enter the room shortly afterwards.

“Just in time!” Namjoon says, adjusting the large frame of his glasses. “Right, as you may already know from the orientation, I’m Kim Namjoon, resident, and specializing in neuro. I’ll be guiding you all throughout admissions and reports this morning while I am waiting for my Chiari decompression scheduled in a few hours.”

Namjoon gathers the rest of the surgical interns before proceeding to the wards to do rounds with the group. He partners with the head nurse and another doctor from the night shift, updating the patient’s condition before moving on to the others.

As soon as his rounds are done, he leads the group back to the on-call room to brief the interns on using the EMR system to keep a patient’s chart updated at all times. To speed up the charting, he asks everyone to come up in pairs and update the patient records.

True to the plan he’d come up with at the spur of the moment, Namjoon and the interns manage to get the job done quicker than expected. With the night shift’s updates already uploaded, the group disperses to carry out the orders and responsibilities.

Jimin, with his throat parched after having come up and down multiple flights of stairs, decides to return to the on-call room to get something to drink. He breathlessly pages Jungkook about it, telling him he’ll get back to his partner after drinking.

He no longer waits for Jungkook’s okay, too thirsty to even think straight. As Jimin goes through his stuff, he realizes he must have forgotten his jug inside your car but having to call you about it would have been too bothersome for you and him both.

There’s a water dispenser in the room but there are no cups or mugs free for him to use - and too unsanitary as well. Jimin searches the room in desperation and spots a carton of banana milk just behind some of the patient’s charts.

He makes a grab for the small carton, checking if it’s got any owner. There’s none written on the carton and no note stuck to it to indicate that it belongs to someone. He spots Yoongi on his phone just by the other corner of the room and approaches the senior resident.

“Excuse me, sunbaenim. Is this yours?” He points to the carton in his hands. Yoongi shakes his head no. “Any name written on it? Some note perhaps?”

“I couldn't find any.”

“Well, it’s yours then. All food on the table is communal unless it’s otherwise labeled.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders as he explains, giving Jimin a thumbs up afterwards.

“Alright. Thanks sunbaenim.”

Throat as dry as the Sahara, Jimin grabs the drink and punches the straw in as quickly as he could before finishing the drink in a few gulps. ‘Thank god for free banana milk.’ He thinks to himself before throwing the packaging away, now more energized than ever.

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #doctors au

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dekatsu · 3 years

Text

There is a chill in the air when Katsuki throws the door to his apartment open at three in the morning and grumbles at Deku to wait for ten fucking minutes ‘cause Katsuki ain’t leaving his apartment without some extra layers.

It takes him only five minutes to find a thick coat and follow Deku down the steps to his car. He’s freezing, his mind is still groggy from sleep and somewhere in the distance, a fucked up bird chirps at the wrong damn time.

Deku reaches out to fasten his seatbelt because Katsuki won’t be taking his hands out of his pockets until his shivers stop and Deku knows that well enough. Then he turns the seat heaters and the AC on before he starts driving.

“It’s cold,” Deku observes and Katsuki has to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying something spiteful. Instead he closes his eyes and tries to get some more sleep. He vaguely comes to when Deku drapes his own jacket across his torso and then drifts off again.

It’s not until his newfound warmth escapes him again that Katsuki squints his eyes open, burrowing deeper under Deku’s winter jacket. “Where?”

“I don’t know,” Deku admits, looking a little lost as he reaches out and takes his jacket before unfastening Katsuki’s seatbelt and pulling him out of the car by his arm.

Katsuki refuses to pull his hands out of his pockets. He shuts his eyes against the strong wind that makes a mess of his bedhead and complains to damn Deku. “It’s freezing.”

“I know. Need me to carry you?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Katsuki scoffs, pushing Deku away to stand on his own two feet. He’s waking up slowly so it takes him a while to register why the wind is so damn strong. They are by the fucking ocean.

“Let’s find somewhere to take shelter, Kacchan.”

“Shelter,” Katsuki repeats, befuddled. He’s still staring down at the ocean, waves crashing against the cliffs beneath them. The view makes the freezing November night even colder. “I’m going to throw you off this cliff,” Katsuki says, only half meaning it.

Deku gives a short laugh but pulls him down the street by his arm. “I ran out of gas, sorry. But according to my navigation there is an inn only a few minutes from here. We can go there until morning.”

It dawns on Katsuki that it’s still the middle of the fucking night and his pyjama really aren’t meant to be worn out. He lets Deku pull him along, only grumbling every now and then to make his displeasure known.

When they reach a crossroad, Deku stares at his phone before he pulls them down the wrong road. Katsuki doesn’t bother to correct him. Instead he pulls on Deku’s sleeve until he relents and takes his jacket off.

Katsuki immediately pulls it on over his coat. Lucky for Deku, he’s wearing proper winter clothes but Katsuki isn’t and he doesn’t see why he should suffer this harsh weather when Deku is the reason they are stuck out here.

Once they are ten minutes down the wrong road with nothing but forest and ocean in sight, Katsuki says, “You took the wrong turn earlier.”

Deku startles at the sound of his voice but turns to face him. “When?”

“At the crossroad.”

“You knew?”

“Of course I did. I can actually read a map, unlike you,” Katsuki mutters and turns back around to lead them where they need to go.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier, Kacchan,” Deku mutters, only pulling slightly on Katsuki’s arm to keep up with his sudden pace. “We could have been warm by now.”

“That’s not what you wanted though.”

Katsuki sees Deku open his mouth, about to say something before he thinks better of it and shuts it again. He grins at the small victory and doesn’t even rub it into Deku’s face. After being dragged out of his apartment for the nth time, Katsuki has grown used to this.

“What set you off?” He asks instead. Deku hesitates to answer, trailing behind Katsuki as they reach the crosswalk and go the right way this time. He’s still keeping his silence as they reach the small inn right farther up the cliff. Katsuki has no idea where they are but they will find their way back home somehow.

They get a room with an ocean view and Katsuki immediately shuts all windows and pulls the drapes down before he gets rid of Deku’s jacket and his coat and burrows down in his futon. “You ain’t getting me out of here before ten. It’s my damn day off.”

“Sorry for dragging you along, Kacchan.”

“Shut it. Did I ask for an apology?”

Deku shrugs and takes Katsuki’s discarded coat to hang it by the door. He pulls his thick hoodie off and pulls off his socks before he sits down on Katsuki’s futon.

“Yours is over there.” Katsuki points with his chin. He isn’t about to pull his hands out of their newfound shelter and ruin the bit of warmth he has shared with it. “Get away from me.”

“I’m running pretty hot, you know,” Deku mutters and reaches out to pull on Katsuki’s duvet but Katsuki is faster and tightens his grip from within to stop Deku’s attempt.

“No,” he hisses, a little peeved. “You always run cold like a fucki-”

Katsuki doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Deku presses their foreheads together. The sudden proximity stops his words short. His eyes go cross as he tries and fails to meet Deku’s because the damn nerd is so fucking close, Katsuki can feel his exhales on his own lips.

He closes his mouth around Deku’s exhalation, swallows and is about to make a snide remark when he finally registers the burn against his forehead.

His hands immediately reach for Deku’s arm, suddenly acutely aware of exactly how unsteady Deku is. He’s been half asleep the whole fucking time and hadn’t registered that Deku is running a fever so high, he might as well volunteer to produce Katsuki’s sweat for him.

“Fucking say something, idiot.” His words have no bite though as he pulls the duvet aside and makes room for Deku. Katsuki pulls him closer to the center of the futon and immediately engulfs him with the duvet.

Deku’s eyes are already shut by the time Katsuki has arranged them on the futon and lied down to press their foreheads together again. “Did you take something against the fever?”

“I took some medicine before I came for you,” Deku mutters, opens one eye to see Katsuki’s glare. “I thought you would be less angry if I did,” he admits.

Katsuki presses his forehead harder against Deku’s, until the nerd winces and pulls back to escape the pain. “The fuck would you let me take your jacket for, when you are burning up like this?”

“I was hot.”

“Fucking idiot.” Katsuki mutters, refusing to feel guilty for Deku’s stupidity. “Do you need water?”

Deku shakes his head. Katsuki sneaks a hand out to press it against Deku’s neck and then behind his ears. “Is this why you couldn’t sleep?”

At the words, Deku closes his eyes again and doesn’t reply. But it’s enough of an answer for Katsuki. “Was it fever induced or a bad day?”

“I don’t know. The fever, I think. Or both.” Deku leans into Katsuki’s hand and presses his face into the pillow. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then you’re shit out of luck.” Katsuki brushes Deku’s hair off his forehead and smoothes it back. “I need to know what set you off. Remember our deal.”

“I think I’m dying.”

“I think you’re trying to run from this conversation.”

“Water?”

“You didn’t want it.”

“Kacchan, please,” Deku whispers and burrows down until his forehead hits Katsuki’s collarbone. “I’ll talk after sleeping.”

Katsuki opens his mouth to protest but Deku beats him to it.

“Please. I promise to talk. But I feel like death right now. Can we open a window?”

“No,” Katsuki tells him and leaves it at that. He rests his nose against the crown of Deku’s head and pulls him in. “Sleep, right now.”

Deku chuckles tiredly against him, his hot breath leaving dampness against Katsuki’s chest. “I can’t just fall asleep on command.”

And then he proves himself wrong by nodding off the next instance. The fever must be stronger than he expected if it knocked Deku out the second he felt safe enough to sleep.

After a few moments, Katsuki carefully untangles himself from Deku and braces himself against the cold outside of their little room with his coat. He needs to get Deku some water and cold patches.

They give him everything he asks for at the reception and wish him a good night. Deku is still fast asleep by the time Katsuki joins him and presses a cold patch against his forehead.

Idly he wonders if Deku will stop dragging him out of bed in the middle of the night once they move in together. The thought catches him off guard and drags him right back from the edge of sleep.

Katsuki grumbles, pulls Deku’s patched forehead away from his neck and shudders at the chill that settles between them. Then he pulls Deku closer again and thinks to fuck with it all as the cool patch presses against his skin.

He doesn’t know why he lets Deku drag him out in the middle of the night like this. He doesn’t know why he agreed to a deal in which Deku tells him the reason for those nightly outings if he wants to continue dragging Katsuki along. He doesn’t know why he cares whether Deku feels safe in his own skin or not. He doesn’t know why he cares about Deku's trauma. He doesn’t know shit but all of it makes his blood boil anyway.

He doesn’t want to know when the fuck they eliminated any speck of personal space between them but what he does know is that Deku needs him to feel safe a few nights every month and Katsuki, for whatever reason, cares about him too much to let him run away from the night with no company by his side.

And because he doesn’t know, doesn’t want to fucking know and refuses to understand, he presses his face into Deku’s hair and blames their proximity for it.

Fuck Deku. He better talk in the morning and agree to move in together because Katsuki would rather share a bed every night than get dragged out again like today, freezing his ass off. And should Deku still drag him out of bed, he will at least be woken up by warm hands instead of his shrieking doorbell.

As he drifts off, Deku’s hair tickling his chin, he thinks Deku better dress him up warm before they leave.

#bkdk #my writing #mine #bakudeku

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Text

Still Like the Letters in Your Name and How They Feel, Babe | Five Hargreeves

✦ pairing — Five Hargreeves x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 3.4k

✦ modern AU

✦ loosely based on the song Still Feel Like Your Man by John Mayer.

✦ summary — you get snowed in with your ex-boyfriend.

✦ warnings — angst, mentions of alcohol, language, fluff, dry humping.

✦ author’s note — the lovely @ohdangitsjay wanted me to write dry humping with Five for kinktober but the slot was taken already so I decided to add some of it here.

════════════════════════

Parties weren’t Five’s thing, much less work parties. He would have skipped the event if he hadn’t gotten a promotion less than four months ago.

He always sat on his own, not interested in his coworkers’ lives. He knew more than he needed already, not only because of their loose tongues but because they were open books.

He would’ve rather been at his place, alone like he had been spending his time for the past months.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to get close to you.”

Five lifted his head out of courtesy, he had recognized his coworker’s voice immediately. She was pretty, he could admit that, but he had read her intentions months ago and he wasn’t interested. “Mmhmm. I know.”

“I’d like to get to know you.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He felt buzzing in his pants and he didn’t know whether to thank whoever was calling or kill them for bothering him now. Lifting a hand so the woman in front of him wouldn’t speak furthermore, he withdrew his cellphone from his pocket.

Vanya’s photo almost blinded him. He cursed — he hadn’t lowered the screen brightness like a fucking idiot.

Excusing himself, he pushed his way out of the venue. Letting the phone ring in his grasp, allowing himself to take in a deep breath of fresh air, he stood under the cold night.

Vanya insisted which confused him, she always knew when to stop bothering him. And that night, even his coworker insisted. He shook his head as he saw her walk out of the venue, wrapped in her coat.

Taking the call just to avoid her, he grunted, “What?” He pinched the bridge of his nose as Vanya explained that she needed him to pick you up from a bar. Thinking the worst, he exhaled, “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Leaving so soon?”

“Not soon enough, it seems.” He dropped his phone in his coat this time. His coworker’s expression of hurt didn’t faze him, but he still explained himself, “Look, you’re not the problem, it’s just that I know your intentions and I’m taken.”

Five had never wished a lie he had told was true until now. He wasn’t taken anymore, but he was still yours, at least he felt like that. He’d never find another you, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to start looking either.

Tugging his car open, he withdrew his cellphone from his coat and slid into the driver seat. Five introduced the key into the clutch, yet he didn’t ignite the engine.

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, considering the option of turning his phone off and coming up with an excuse days later. But he didn’t have it in him, not this time when he had a chance to see you — so many days after the morning you left.

The quicker he got it over with, the quicker he would be able to drown himself in alcohol to pretend it hadn’t happened.

His sister was already waiting for him near the entrance of the bar. Vanya turned her head to the side. Five followed the movement with his eyes and ultimately you came into vision. Only you would wear a dress in this weather, always claiming you never got cold.

He knew it wasn’t true, but you were stubborn. His siblings often said he wouldn’t have been so smitten if you weren’t as stubborn and they were right, he liked the challenge. And although he would never admit this out loud, he liked giving in to your stubbornness. He missed it.

You hadn’t realized he was there, head on your friend’s shoulder as they all talked. He could tell how drunk you were just by the lazy position of your hand on your lap.

“Why can’t you take her home?”

“No, God, no! You misunderstood what I said, Five. I need you to take her with you.”

Five gave his sister an incredulous look, hoping she was joking. When he realized Vanya was serious, he shook his head. “You know she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. Besides, she’s drunk out of her mind, she might hug you instead of breaking your nose.”

He glared at her. Although his nose was more than fine, that punch hurt.

“Please? For me? I haven’t spent enough time with Sissy in weeks.”

“Too much information, Vanya!” he chastised, shaking his head as he walked past his sister.

It bordered on cruel, having you so close and knowing you would’ve been against it if you knew he was there.

Vanya placed a hand on his shoulder, not reassuring whatsoever as he defeatedly sighed. Only the two of you could convince him to do anything, and his sister still used it to her advantage.

He stood before you and your friends. Chatter died, you didn’t react. His eyes crossed your closest friend’s after Vanya, and as she nodded downward he understood that everybody thought you would be safer with him.

“Come on, (Name),” he said softly, hoping you wouldn’t make a scene.

You turned your head to the side, facing him. His breath faltered. Frowning, you just stared, mind too hazy to come up with a question to blurt even though a few crossed it.

How was work? Did Grace like the jacket you got for her? Are we going home soon?

He nudged his head to the side, signaling toward the exit. “Come on, you’ve got things to do tomorrow.”

Your friends tensed at his comment, but he didn’t think much of the gesture.

Sissy handed him your coat, watching him carefully. Five held the coat for you to slide your arms in, and out of habit helped you to fold it close and button it up.

You interlocked your arm with his, head lulling toward his shoulder. Vanya shoved your purse into his chest, prompting him to hold it in his hand as he gave her a final nod in goodbye.

════════════════════════

You woke up in an all too familiar room. Absolutely nothing had changed, the walls were the same blue walls you had stared at for hours as you waited for someone who cared more about their job than their girlfriend to get back from work.

By the looks of it, Five had been so busy that he didn't even have time to get rid of things you had gifted him. They were in the place they had been the last time you visited him — books stacked up, music records leaned against the other... the painting you had helped him choose still hung over his desk.

“Ah, you’re awake." His voice made you jump. "Coffee? An aspirin?”

You shuffled, pushing the duvet off your body in order to leave the bed. “Why am I here?”

The cold floor made you shiver. You searched for your shoes, looking down as you inwardly cursed yourself for wearing a dress when Vanya told you not to.

“You don’t remember going out last night? Vanya called me.” He tilted his head as he asked, frowning.

“Yes,” you deadpanned, slipping your shoes on before lifting your head to look at him. “But why didn’t you take me home?”

He winced. “Well, Vanya needed the apartment to herself.”

Dragging your eyes off him, not able to look at his face for too long, you whined, ”Unbelievable! She ditched me to get some pussy!”

Realizing your purse had been on the bed all this time, you popped it open and withdrew your phone. You looked at the time and your eyes widened. “Fuck, fuck. I’ll be late!”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Your gaze snapped in his direction. He looked so serious that it made your blood boil. “Excuse me? Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?”

He groaned. “We’re snowed in, idiot.”

“No, no, no... this can’t be happening. Not to me. Not today.” You stood by the window and peered out. He hadn’t lied, the streets were covered in white as snow, which was still falling, piled up. You would’ve found the scenery gorgeous if you weren’t so stressed. “FUCK!”

Only you had such bad luck... getting snowed in with your ex-boyfriend today from all days.

“I’m sure your mom will understand,” he tried to assure you.

In any other instance you would’ve found it sweet that he remembered you visited your mom every Saturday, or that he was trying to comfort you.

You corrected him, “I have a date today.”

“Oh.”

Unlocking your cellphone, you scrolled down your contact list. Your finger hovered over the call button. What would you say? ‘Hey, I’m sorry I can’t meet up with you today, I’m stuck in my ex-boyfriend’s apartment’?

Seeing your exasperation as you went through your phone, he painfully said, “Don’t be dramatic, your date must understand you can’t control the weather.”

“We had been putting this off for a while,” you confided him like you used to when he was your best friend, back when he hadn’t broken your heart yet and he still had time for you. “He’s so nice and sweet... “ you trailed off before sighing, “I was hoping not to ruin it.”

“Why didn’t Vanya call him if he’s so sweet?” he asked, voice laced with venom. He was challenging you to lie to him.

Honestly, you answered, “I’m guessing she doesn’t trust him.”

A shiver ran through you, prompting you to rub your arms.

Five walked toward his closet and opened the doors. “You left some clothes here, I’m sure you can find something in case you want to take a shower or get changed... ah! Your red sweatshirt is in the laundry room.”

Unable to keep it in, you shrieked, “You lent my clothes to other people?!”

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, no malice in his tone, “I wore it myself.” Turning around, finding it hard to read your expression, he blurted, “Once.”

You did find something to wear, and for the second time that day, you felt as though nothing had changed. Nothing made more sense than having a space for your own clothes in his closet.

You entrenched yourself in the bathroom as soon as possible. Being around him was worse than you ever anticipated, you wanted to be angry and hostile yet you were too emotionally exhausted for that.

Failed interpersonal relationships were your norm. The day you met Vanya you felt as though you were having a friend for the first time; then Five came around and became your best friend, your confidant. Having him around used to be easy, even when you developed feelings for him.

The day you left him was one of the hardest days of your life. You didn’t cry, only numbness enveloped you in a tight grip — a grip you had gotten free from a little too late.

Your friends tried introducing you to people multiple times, but it never worked. It wasn’t because of Five, not entirely, you simply weren’t good with new people. And you missed Five, but that was different.

Missing him had become an afterthought, work kept you busy in the same stupid way it kept him. Guilt never took over you, why would it when you hadn’t neglected anyone because of your job? In fact, you were sure you would get over him soon when work became your priority.

Until a few minutes ago, the illusion had been good. What a sweet lie you told yourself for weeks and weeks.

You regretted entering the shower the second you turned around to grab some shampoo. Tears prickled your eyes the moment they fell on a familiar bottle. It didn’t have any marks of use, not a single gram dripped down the bottle, dry product was nowhere to be seen around the cap.

You confirmed that the bottle was brand new when you tested its weight in your grasp. A sob escaped you. Why would he keep your favorite shampoo in his shower?

You couldn’t bring yourself to use it, so instead, you grabbed Five’s shampoo and squeezed some onto your palm.

After a tear-ridden shower, you quickly got dressed and stood behind the door for a prolonged moment.

A heavy silence greeted you as you stepped into the living room. You had expected the sound of fingers against a keyboard or page flipping, but instead, you found Five slouched over his stomach with a piece of red fabric on his lap.

Feeling your presence, he murmured, “Here.” Five offered you the sweatshirt which you took hesitantly.

“I don’t use that shampoo anymore,” you blurted before you could process the words your entire being was desperate for him to hear.

He hummed, avoiding your face at every cost as he stared past you. He really needed to decorate the living room, at least a little bit. “You found a better one?”

“No,” you mumbled. Sliding the sweatshirt on, you waited for him to say something. Five didn’t, he stayed in the same position until you sat down beside him.

As he twisted his body to face you and his eyes landed on your face, you were able to see he had been crying too.

“What did your date say?” he asked, ever the masochist one.

You shrugged. “I haven’t texted him.”

“You should at least call your mom. Tell her you’re safe.”

Nodding slowly, you then turned your face to the other side. He didn’t mean anything more than exactly what he said and yet your heart thumped in your chest at a rhythm you had forgotten it was able to beat.

“She misses you. The whole family does.”

“Tell them I miss them too. Please.”

You sniffed, bolting off the couch. Walking into his bedroom, you tried to ignore the strong smell of his cologne as you blindly palmed the bed in search of your phone.

“Are you okay?”

Tears didn’t allow you to see him properly, but you could tell he was leaning on the doorway.

“I don’t want to talk about anything,” you warned him, scared a fight would ensue if you spoke your mind. “My head hurts.”

You heard him move around the room, opening and closing a drawer. Then you felt him close, so close his breath fanned on the side of your face as he spoke, “It’s paracetamol, it’ll be gentler with your stomach.”

Blinking the tears away, you faced him — this time fully. Opening your palm, you waited for him to drop the pill onto it. Five looked down, softly placing the white circle on your palm.

Closing your fist around the pill, you threw your arms all over his neck. Taken by surprise, he felt his hands tremble as he placed them on your lower back.

Nothing extraordinary happened, and you loved it. He was just as warm as you remembered, and you were as comfortable in his arms this time as you had been before.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, careful not to move you too harshly as he pulled you onto his chest, “so, so, so sorry. You can’t even imagine how stupid I feel.”

“Shhh, it’s fine.”

“We both know it isn’t.”

“Don’t wanna talk,” you reminded him.

So he hugged you tighter. And once again, it felt like nothing had changed — because nothing had, because the idea of moving on was nice on paper and nothing more.

“I’m pretty sure the pill melted in my hand...”

He snorted, begrudgingly parting from you. “I’ll get you some water and another one.”

You stared at your reflection in the mirror as you washed your hands and immediately splashed water onto your face. It was cold, but that was exactly what you were looking for in attempts to make your face less puffy after all that crying.

Five watched you in silence, ready to give you the pill and the glass.

Drying your hands, you thanked him and then proceeded to take the glass from his hand.

“Don’t go out with him,” Five pleaded, unable to keep it in for longer. “I don’t deserve it, but please give me a second chance.”

You glared at him as you snatched the pill from his open palm. Instead of giving him an answer, you swallowed the pill.

He took this as a sign that you needed more convincing. “I promise I’ll spend every second of my free time with you.”

You lowered the glass before you could take another sip of water, scoffing as you walked toward the window once again. “Oh, come on, Five, I never asked for that. I just wanted you to put some effort.”

“I’ll do that, then. Anything.”

“Can you really do that?”

“Yes.”

You nodded, placing the glass down onto the bedside table. You were always so eager to believe in him... you could only hope this time your heart didn’t end up in tiny pieces. “It’s obvious that I don’t need much convincing.”

“That’s fine by me.” Five shrugged, looking down at his hands.

You grabbed his hands, making him look at you. He intertwined your fingers with his, biting his bottom lip as you lifted your eyebrows.

He huffed a laugh upon realizing you were waiting for him to kiss you and for a millisecond considered teasing you, but you knew him so well that you had seen through his nervous demeanor.

Leaning in, he stared into your eyes in search for permission. You tilted your head, brushing your nose with his, fanning your breath on his lips. Five’s mouth met yours in the middle, slowly at the beginning.

You let go of his hands, snaking your arms around his neck to bring him closer. His hands found home on your waist, just as he picked up his pace.

As a moan slid past your lips, he slipped his tongue in your mouth. Five moved one of his hands to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss.

Breathless, you were forced to barely push him away. You stared at his red lips as you gasped for air, ragged breath mingling with his own.

And then his lips were on yours again. The hand on the back of your head fell to your spine as he walked you backward. Five laid you on the bed, careful not to hurt you yet never taking his lips off yours.

Pressing kisses on the side of your neck, he roughly grabbed your hips, making you moan as his hard-on was pressed against your crotch.

Your hips worked against his in sync, so naturally that you still had half a mind to wonder how the fuck you had lasted this long without him all over you.

Five’s groans grew deliciously deep as his hands trailed down to massage your thighs. His mouth sucked on your neck as he pulled you flush against him.

You inwardly thanked whichever God existed for the cold weather. Not only did Five look amazing in sweatpants, but the soft material allowed you to feel the outline of his hard cock even through your leggings as he humped you.

“Would really love to fuck you,” you panted, “but there’s no way I’m taking my clothes off right now. I’m freezing!“

He laughed against your skin. One of his hands left your thigh and he tugged on the covers, draping them over both of you, covering yourselves from head to toes.

Five continued to kiss your neck, still moving his hips against yours albeit more slowly.

“I missed you,” he spoke before you could mutter a teasing comment about how desperate he was for you.

You played with the small hairs on the back of his head, humming as you rocked up against him. “I missed you too. But don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late,” he said cheekily, letting his weight fall on top of you as he leaned into your touch.

You relaxed against the mattress as his warmth combined with the shielding covers seeped through you. Five slipped an arm under your head, fingers brushing your neck as his other hand came up to softly grip your face.

You hummed in acknowledgment, knowing he wanted to say something.

“We didn’t call your mom.”

You breathed out a small laugh. “I wasn’t supposed to see her today, don’t worry.”

He tensed over you, frowning as he processed what you had just said. Deciding to ignore the fact that you were probably planning to hook up with your date, Five slowly lowered his head so it would rest on your chest.

It didn’t matter what you had planned to do when you were there under him. He was still your man, he had felt as such ever since the day you met — and he wouldn’t fuck it up a second time.

#five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x plus size reader #five hargreeves

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live-laugh-lenney · 3 years

Text

The One Where YN Meets Will.

Hello, hi!

I’m Emily, I’ve had this blog for a few months now and I’m not sure what I want to do with it, apart from reblog gifs of Will and catch up on all things Youtube and the Eboys and the Sidemen and all that. Thought about giving writing a go, since I’ve done some before on another blog for another fandom, and this came from my brain as an attempt at writing for WillNE.

I am willing to take requests or write anything that anyone wants me to write about, if anyone would like one written for a specific idea.

Hope you like it. x

A consistent buzz came beside her.

Rumbling on top of her bedside table, her phone laid overturned and ringing with an incoming call from someone, charging on the thick Stephen King book that she was halfway through reading, ripples rolling over the surface of the water in the tall glass placed next to it, that she took to bed with her the previous night. She glanced at the salt lamp, small and jagged-looking and emitting a dull orange glow behind the sunlight that streamed through her windows, and gave herself a tut for leaving it on overnight; she couldn’t remember leaving it on although she couldn’t help but give a mental clap at how truthful the benefits of having a Himilayan salt lamp had been.

‘MUM’

The three letter word flashed at her in bold text, above a candid photo that someone had taken of her and her mum in a heart-to-heart chat in the middle of a family barbecue that had taken a turn once her father had found the alcohol stash in the garage and turned a casual family get-together into a night where everyone stumbled over the front doorstep on their way out. A heart-to-heart conversation that had them both smiling brightly at one another.

“Mum, hi.”

“Hi, darling.” Her voice sounded so soft, so sweet, inviting and warm and YN missed her more than anything; if she had anything to say about moving miles away, she would always give the advice of making sure distance was something you could handle. “You sound tired, did I wake you? I thought you’d be on your way to work by now.”

YN looked at the red numbers on the screen of her alarm clock, reading 7:45, and she had a tiny freak-out for a brief moment before she came to the realisation that it was her day off and she wasn’t due into work until after the weekend had finished.

“You did, yeah. I’m not due at work today though. They gave me the day off since my boss’ schedule is just meetings out of town today. He’s up North for conferences and such and it was late notice for me so he didn’t mind me not accompanying him. I wouldn’t have been able to do much anyway,” YN clarified and she used her free hand to push herself up from the mattress. Her hair was knotted and pillow-messed, sticking up in all directions and falling loose from the ponytail she’d thrown it up in before she fell asleep. Her t-shirt twisted around her middle which she adjusted with her fingers, bringing her knees to her chest and staring out the window as the sun continued its rise in the horizon. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t fuss about me,” she heard her mother tut from down the line. But YN couldn’t help but fuss over the two of them; if she lived closer to them, she wouldn’t worry so much because they’d be just a short distance away if they needed her help. But she didn’t live close and she hadn’t done for almost two years; she lived almost 300 miles northeast of where she used to live with her parents and it wouldn’t take her more than twenty minutes to tend to their needs. “We’re both fine, stop worrying yourself, darling. Your dad’s been back doing his gardening so he’s out there already. Watering his flowers, spraying fertiliser, cleaning all the fox poo up. He’s been growing some veggies in the plot next to the greenhouse so you can take some back when you next come to visit.”

YN smiled to herself, bringing her shoulders to her jawline before dropping them and relaxing against her headboard. The back of her head resting against the plush velvet, coloured a clean white, and her toes curled into the sheet beneath her, her fist clutching the duvet as she brought it tighter to her body.

“You can always send me some in a box? Or you could come and visit and drop them off yourself? You know I’ve got the spare room in the new place if you want to come up for a weekend. It’s vacant, just full of my empty moving boxes and bags that I haven’t gotten rid of yet,” YN said, a yawn creeping up her throat that she hid with the palm of her hand, “I need dad’s handyman work to come and help put some shelves up. You’ve not seen it yet.”

“Your dad said it’s a lovely flat. Lovely view. Lovely building. But, you know what he’s like when it comes to describing things. Everything’s lovely,” her mother snorted and YN laughed softly; her father had always been vague and she’s pretty sure that she’d never heard him use any other word to describe something other than ‘lovely’. “We’ve been talking about paying you a visit.”

“Please do. It’s a little lonely here by myself. I’m yet to meet new friends or have a chat with the neighbours. Everyone’s either back in Cornwall or back in Hackney and both are a hefty distance away.”

YN had never considered herself as an introvert so to call herself lonely felt strange.

She was always the friend who asked for the bill, she was the friend who made the complaint in a restaurant when a plate of food came back wrong, she was the friend who made advances on blokes in pubs and clubs because her friends were too shy to go and introduce themselves and she was the friend who always carried the responsibility of making polite conversation with people in pubs when they needed a table to perch themselves at. She was that friend. So making friends with strangers and starting conversations with her co-workers and approaching others who she found had kind features was never something she struggled with.

Moving to a new place and having to make new relationships and form new bonds, regardless of how far it was from the bonds and relationships you already had, she found it daunting to start fresh.

“What are you doing today?”

“I’m not sure. The weather is really nice and it looks warm out so I might go and explore Canary Wharf and see what’s around. I need to do some shopping, food and furniture, so I might do some of that,” YN rolled onto her side and let her cheek rest against the cold side of her mattress, the backs of her thighs exposed to the cool air of her bedroom as her t-shirt rose up her body; and she made a mental note to buy herself so proper pyjamas because knickers and an oversized t-shirt could cause more problems than expected. “We’ve got a lovely grass area outside the block of flats so I might sit out there, soak up the sunshine, read a book and eat some lunch. I don’t know. Might see how the day goes, I have a good feeling about it.”

“Go exploring. You can find some places to show us when we come to visit,” and YN smiled.

“I’ll do that. You’ll love it mum. This place is amazing. I feel so lucky to have been given something as beautiful as this. I had a crack den for my first flat so this feels like a dream,” she stared at her ceiling. There was no yellow tint from how the previous tenants smoked inside and there were no unusually coloured stains on the ceiling’s coving that caught the eye because of how a stain of that colour shouldn’t have been there, leaving the mystery of just how it got there… and YN didn’t need that kind of stress over something like that. “It doesn’t smell like pee, there’s no syringes outside and there’s no sign of vomit or shit stains on the floor because it’s all laminate.”

“You deserve it, darling. You really do.”

“It’s clean, mum. It came clean, it smells clean, it looks clean. Everything looks brand new and,” YN pauses for a moment, rolling onto her stomach and she sighs with content, “I love it.”

After hanging up, she contemplated getting up and getting dressed for the day.

It felt rather tempting to stay in her comfortable loungewear and enjoy the silence, the time to herself and the time off she had been after for so long, taking advantage of Deliveroo and ordering food for breakfast, lunch and dinner rather than cooking something homemade and having the leftovers the next day (or for when she woke up in the early hours with a hankering for something to nibble on, because she could, because she didn’t have an authority figure to tell her no).

By the time her phone call ended with her mother, it was a little over forty-five minutes later and her alarm clock showed a time that she didn’t want to see on her day off; 8:35am. She expected another hour or two added on to her usual sleep schedule, to make a difference to the usual 6am alarm call that had her detesting her job just a tiny bit, but it wasn’t frowned upon because she’d take any given opportunity to speak to her mother. The one person she called her best friend because she really was the only person, apart from her father, that she’d drop anything and everything important for. Her sleep didn’t matter when she got to her the voice of someone she missed so dearly.

Porridge and fruit, a colourful array of strawberries and blueberries and bananas and cranberries in her bowl, and a warm cup of tea had been her breakfast as she caught up with the lifestyle Youtube channel she had been in the loop with. A Youtube channel that she had been a big fan of from the moment she moved to London, one who she turned to in times of need, one that she stumbled across when googling aesthetically pleasing ways to decorate a flat because she really needed to do something about how her Hackney flat had looked before a lick of paint and a hanging plant, one that she continued to view and like and followed tips from, even when it came to her new flat.

“Don’t be afraid to like monochrome and definitely don’t be afraid to follow a colour scheme that might seem ‘out there’ and in your face. If you like lime green then go paint a portion of your wall that colour. If you like the brightest shade of pink then go mad and add some colour to your life. You can never feel more organised than when your surroundings follow a consistent pattern that brings immense amounts of joy when you enter.”

The young girl on her screen, with space-buns either side of her head and an outfit that definitely came from a trendy thrift store clothes rail, sat before a wall of a delicious shade of peach that YN thought looked lovely; not for herself, because she’d stuck with the whites and the greys and the blacks that her flat already consisted of, but perfect for the young twenty-something year old.

“There are loads of websites where you can buy hanging plants, or artificial hanging baskets, and hanging canvas prints and wall art. I’m always looking for new things to buy so I’ll link some of my favourite online stores for you to check out; hit my Instagram mentions up with photos of things you’ve brought, too. That’s what I love to see.”

YN’s spoon clinked against the ceramic bowl in front of her as she pushed it away from her, reaching for her television remote and turning off her Youtube app, her television turning off completely and leaving a black screen behind. The flat falling silent. She looked around her, drumming her fingers against the tabletop, eyes squinting as the sunlight streamed through the wall-to-ceiling windows and made everything feel bright..

As much as she warmed to the idea of staying inside and ordering furniture and decor for her home, scrolling through online stores to buy something she thought she needed but really didn’t need, she had a good feeling about the upcoming day.

“Listen, love, I’m not sure if you could tell but I’m not exactly a people person. I don’t know you, don’t want to know you, have no plans to get to know you. You might live in the building but that doesn’t mean we need to be friendly.”

He spoke with such vigour in his voice that YN could only keep quiet so as to not entice a negative reaction out of him in such a confined space because confrontation was something she was never comfortable with. Sure, she’d endured confrontation before but that was from people she had been acquainted with, the ones she was friends with, people she saw on a daily basis and from people she worked with, from those who were supposed to confront her when something was wrong or hadn’t been down in a way it was supposed to be done; her boss, mainly. This man was a complete stranger, someone she didn’t know,someone she’d never seen before so instant regret filled her veins. She thought he looked friendly enough to start a quick conversation, to make the lift ride seem a little less boring, filling the empty space with general chit-chat.

Cowering away from him and almost closing in on herself, even though his attention stayed focused on the screen of his phone as he scrolled through a social media app, she thought he’d finished with her and she hadn’t expected him to perk up anymore.

“Not everyone likes to chat to strangers.”

“Well, I like chatting to strangers so don’t mind him,” a quirky Geordie accent perked up from behind her, her posture adjusting at the sudden appearance of someone behind her; she’s sure she didn’t see anyone else in the lift, apart from the towering bloke beside her, when she stepped into the lift but, then again, he was tucked away in the corner with a cap on his head and she had been looking at the floor as she entered because a mark on her white shoe had caught her attention. “Come chat to me, if you want. Promise I won’t bite your head off like matey-boy there.”

Her trainers squeaked on the floor as she spun around, eyes raking up and down his figure so she could get a good look at who the voice belonged to, almost staking him out in a way. He was a handsome chap, with brown hair sticking out from beneath a black cap upon his head that he’d pulled quite far down his forehead, a cheeky grin on his face that made the mood in the lift much brighter. There was a graphic print printed on the front of the black hoodie he had decided to throw on, the commonly-known Adidas stripes lining the length of his joggers, trainers on his feet with the laces loose and almost untying by themselves (clumsy, she assumed he was, because there’s no way he wouldn’t trip over them as soon as they loosened completely).

“I’m Will. Will Lenney.”

“I’m YN.”

“Do I get your surname? S’only fair since I told you mine.”

She laughed softly and replied with her surname, a look of appreciation on his features as he held his hand out for her to take, which she gladly shook with her own. Skin so soft, fingers so delicate, with a hold so strong that she couldn’t find herself letting go. She didn’t want to let go. This was the first contact she’d had with someone new, in a month of being new to the area, and it just so happened to be with someone she found rather attractive to the eye.

The bloke from before, who had tore down her attempts at being the friendly neighbour who he would, no doubt, see quite often, couldn’t help but let out the strongest sigh of annoyance. A sound that brought them back to reality, hands falling from their hold, dropping back down to their sides with a faint rosy-look on their cheeks that didn’t come from how warm it was. A sound that made the both of them turn their noses up, that made them their eyebrows scrunch on their browlines and made them want to really throw words at him until he gained some manners. Yet they ignored him because he wasn’t worth the time.

“You’re new here, aren’t you? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” he started, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder that had slipped with the movement of his arm falling down to his side. His fingertips and right down to the middle of his palm still felt heavy with the thought of her hand still in his. “I’d remember such a beautiful face.”

The heat already on her cheeks reached boiling and she knew her flushed look caught his attention. His smile turning into a grin which had her looking at her feet, shyly. A handsome lad with a sense of immense charm about him; she liked him and it wasn’t typical of her to form an attraction at such an early stage.

“Yeah, I moved in about a month ago. Floor 10, right at the end of the corridor. A proper upgrade from where I used to be located but thanks to my work, they moved me from my previous office block to my current office block in Canary Wharf and said they’d move me closer if necessary,” she thought she was rambling and she expected a look of faint annoyance on his features that would silently tell her to shut up. She picked at the loose string hanging from the hem of her t-shirt and twirled it around her finger, looking up from her feet and seeing a look of intense concentration on his face, enticing her to carry on. “The move was necessary. Completely necessary. It wasn’t a nice place where I was before, it was the first thing I saw on the website and I was desperate for somewhere to live. If I stayed there, I would be half an hour away otherwise.”

Canary Wharf.

It was a complete upgrade from the streets of Hackney and the dingy flat she had become so accustomed to for a little less than a year; the smell of weed and tobacco would fill the corridors and hit her in the face when she left her front door, the lights were always dim and flickered and the lifts were rickety and untrustworthy, discarded bikes and scooters and old prams and baby-carriers littered the space between one end of the hallway to the other, suspicious figures dressed in black hoodies and grey joggers always greeted her with stone-cold faces and squared-up jaws. An attempt, she guessed, to look like they were the typical hardnuts of the complex and that they weren’t to be messed with, even if it was just a polite ‘excuse me’ to pass them by and to be out of their hair within a moment.

It wasn’t all bad, regardless. Her neighbours were sweethearts, they always said hello and invited her in for cups of tea and a slice of cake after she finished work, most people were kind and warm and had their own back stories as to why they chose such a place to live - she could only imagine that the building was a nice place to live, with residents who took care of themselves and the place they lived in, before London gangs took over and were on the high of increasing and before drug dealers became more frequent on the streets - and her life, thank god, was never bothered. No one intervened, no one found her life to be their business to spread and life felt normal; she had a home, somewhere to live, somewhere to sleep and eat and shower and feel warm and cosy in a bed. Even if it wasn’t as nice as she had wanted it to be, she had somewhere.

Her new flat was almost dream-like if you compared it to what she lived in before. It made her Hackney flat look like a pit; a drug-den, if you will. She could wake up to pure sunshine filtering through double-glazed windows and there was no chance that she would be rudely woken up in the middle of the night from the ghoulish moans of the wind getting trapped between cracked window panes or the drunken yells of people stumbling down the hallways back to their homes. She could walk to her new place of work rather than hop on public transport and she could take the time to explore a side of London she never had the chance to see. Her floor was laminated wood, heated when the nights were cold, and there were no stains of garishly and disgusting colours of god-knows-what from previous tenants who had lived there. The view was beautiful, she could see right to the end of the horizon, and the scenes she was greeted with on her arrival home were almost picturesque… except pictures could never do it justice.

She’d been there for a month.

A whole four weeks.

And she could already feel improvements in her lifestyle that weren’t so bold before. She woke up happier and didn’t feel the need to stay in bed for a lie-in, she felt happier during the day and had a bob in her step that brought light to her office block, she felt safe when she walked out the reception and into the open space by the entrance and didn’t feel like she would be jumped by hiding predators if she arrived home late at night. She was friendly with her neighbours, always popped round to give them any post that had been posted through her mailbox by accident or if deliveries were left with them when she’d been at work and always started a conversation with them when they stood waiting for the lift to arrive on their floor.

“Oh, nice. What is it-”

The ding of the lift stopped Will mid-sentence, silenced them and halted their conversation as the doors opened to reveal the reception floor, empty and desolate from people. It was mid-morning, almost lunchtime, so YN had assumed most were working or out in the streets of London to enjoy the sunshine; the latter being what she had planned to do.

The man from the lift, who had tucked himself in the corner and stuck earphones in to block out their conversation, made sure he was the first one out and disappeared before YN could give him a sarcastic goodbye, not that he would have heard her anyway so she settled with a wave, a really exaggerated and over-the-top wiggle of her fingers, and hoped he saw it in the reflection of the window as he left and disappeared into the mass of people walking by their block of apartments.

“You’re a right character, you,” Will admitted, nudging her with his elbow and smirking at her, “what is it you do, job-wise? That’s what I wanted to ask.”

“I’m a PA for a CEO at an advertising company. A personal assistant who runs and gets coffee for everyone, gets lunch during her lunch-break, who organises meetings and creates schedules and gets the big boss what he wants when he wants it,” she clarified, “it’s not exactly the best job and I wish I was doing something I wanted to do but it pays well. For now, it’s enough to get me by and keep this place.”

They started walking toward the automatic doors of the entrance, feeling the cool air of the shade on their exposed skin that definitely disappeared as soon as the sunshine hit them, coming to a stop just by a brick wall. Young children were running around with their parents walking behind, cyclists were dinging bells to pass through large groups and groups of university students were huddled on the grass, eating lunches they’d brought from restaurants on their way, backpacks discarded and being used as pillows as they laughed and joked. Tourists were taking photos and posing to show off where they’d been and what they got up to when it came to showing their friends back home and businessmen and businesswomen were almost speed-walking to get back to their offices in time with a styrofoam takeaway lunch in their hands.

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I? Just tell me to piss off if I am.”

“No, no. Don’t be silly. I’m only popping round the corner to see my mate. He won’t mind if I’m late,” he said, perching down on the brick wall and patting the space beside him. The legs of his ankles rose up to show the white ankle socks he’d paired with his trainers., “What is it you want to do as a job? Just, the way you talk about your job now makes it sound like you don’t like it.”

“I do like it there. But I don’t want to be a personal assistant, running round London to get coffee and sandwiches, for the rest of my life. I’ve always dabbled in blogging, taking photos, talking about nonsense and stuff. Posting videos and vlogging, too. I’ve tried it out as something fun, documenting holidays and stuff, and I’d love to do something with that and take it further but... I don’t know,” she sat down beside him, sliding her bag off of her shoulder and setting it on her lap, arm looped underneath the handles to keep it from spilling the contents inside, “I don’t want to be a social influencer but someone who does what she wants to do and gets by by just being herself. No companies to promote her or anything. Nothing to boost her. All her,” she stared off into the distance, tapping the heel of her foot against the concrete. Will nodded. “What do you do?”

“I, uh,” he scoffed out a laugh and rubbed the nape of his neck. His hat fell from his head and he decided to swap the shade of the cap to the sunglasses he had hanging from the neck of his hoodie, “funnily enough, I post videos on Youtube. I’m a Youtuber.”

Her head whipped round and she gawked at him. Eyes wide, mouth agape and her hand found his forearm, squeezing it tightly with excitement.

“You’re not?”

“I am, yeah. I was in university, didn’t like what I was studying, and I was told that if I really felt strongly about this Youtube malarky then I should pursue it to its possible potential and see where I end up. My mum’s words, not mine,” he snorted. He felt her hand loosen around his forearm and he watched her face become rigid as she came to the realisation of what she’d done. He dismissed it because he didn’t want to embarrass her but, really, he didn’t mind and he found it endearing. “I’m not that big or popular or anything but I’ve got a couple million subscribe-”

“Not that big,” she mocked and rolled her eyes, “a couple million subscribers is huge. I’ll have to search you up. What’s your channel name?”

“WillNE. Like, Will then an N then an E. Like a-”

“Like a play on words with your surname,” she grinned as she proudly finished his sentence for him and he nodded, rather pleased with himself; and she had to give it to him, it was something special, unique and rather creative than some of the stand-out names she could think of from the platform. Some were really out there and had no relevance to who they were nor what they spoke about, some were vague and some were almost as bonkers as the people who came up with them. “That’s really cool. This is really cool. A famous Youtuber lives in my flat complex... I’m talking to a famous Youtuber right now... heck, I’ve managed to keep my cool around someone famous and I’m amazed I haven’t embarrassed myself. Wait till I tell my friends about this. They won’t believe me.”

“They’re not fangirls or anything, are they?”

“No, ha. If anyone’s the fangirl out of my friends then it’s me. I’ll find myself watching Youtube when I’ve got nothing else to do,” she admitted, “cooking dinner? I’ll stick someone on to watch. Can’t sleep? I’ll just binge watch someone until I’m tired. Day off and there’s nothing to do? I’ll find a channel and just let it go from there.”

“Maybe I’ll pop up on there one day. I’ll help cure your boredom,” Will grinned, “then you can say ‘hey, that’s one of my mates there on my telly, that is’.”

A comfortable silence swallowed the both of them as they sat and let the seconds tick by. The tweets of the birds came from above, distant chatter came from the students lounging on the grass behind, scuffs of soles signified people were walking and jogging nearby and despite the feeling of time coming to end between the two of them, neither of them wanted to leave the other, neither wanted to bring the conversation to an end and neither of them wanted to part ways.

“So, we’re mates, huh?”

“Yeah, I reckon so,” Will smiled. Eyes locking with hers for a brief second, long enough to catch the twinkle in her eye and the genuine smile that lifted up her lips, “you’re a good’un. I like you. I think we’ll get along really bloody well, me and you.”

(WILL’S TEXTS. YN’S TEXTS.)

Filming a video tomorrow. Fancy coming by?

Won’t I get in the way?

Bollocks will you. Come along. Please. You can see firsthand how to make a Youtube video since you said you’ve always thought about it.

Where?

Only at my place. A TWOTI.

This Week On The Internet… nice one. I’ll be there.

You’ve done your research on me!

Spent all day googling you. As soon as you walked away, I started my research and I cut my day short so I could come home and watch your videos. Just call me a superfan now.

Superfan, ha.

I’ll have to test you. Could get you in a video to see if you’re my biggest fan.

Try me. I’ll get full marks. Your subscribers will look like phonies compared to me, hahaha.

You might have to sit off camera, out of shot, tomorrow. If I don’t finish everything by the time you get here, that is. No distractions. No pulling faces behind the camera.

I’ll be on my best behaviour. I’ll fangirl at the door, drop my Twitter handle into conversation, ask for a signature and a photo and then I’ll be fine.

I’m not going to regret this, am I?

You won’t hear a peep out of me. Promise.

Come by after lunch then. We can get some takeaway for lunch or something, if you don’t eat before, and I’ll have some bits filmed by the time you get here so you won’t have to sit in silence for too long.

Make it 1pm and it’s a deal.

Why 1pm?

It’s Saturday tomorrow. I don’t get up before noon on the weekends. Not even for you, mister big-shot Youtuber. ;)

And here I was, thinking you would throw your routine away for your new best mate.

Nice try.. see you tomorrow, William.

Ohh, serious. Full name and all. I see how it is, YN.

Goodnight, you muppet.

See you tomorrow. x

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