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#i’ll take a sip right now too <3
inkykeiji · 2 years
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the link works now!!
OKAY YES 100% that is 100% touya-nii and reader 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 oh gosh i’m so soft because like,, you know he’d be doing shit like that for her all the time; just kinda fussing over her and making sure everything’s all right and good and the way it should be—making sure her jacket sleeves are pulled down and her zipper’s zipped up, as high as it can possibly go, knuckles brushing her chin as he gives another confirmatory yank on it; or her mittens are as far up her wrists as they can be, protecting her delicate skin with thick fluffy wool; or her hat’s on her head properly, slim fingers tugging at the edges right over her ears and making sure they’re covered 🥺 because that’s what good niichans do, right? <33
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em-prentiss · 5 months
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I’ve got my eye on you
----
You’re really in no shape to be at work. Aaron coaxes you home.
Cw: fem!bau!reader, reader is on her period, newly established relationship, fluff, use of pet names, no use of yn
Wc: 1.9k
if you have any Aaron requests, lmk <3
----
Your stomach cramps again as you walk out of the elevator. Wincing, you hurry into the bullpen, desperate to sit down and ease the ache in your lower body. 
Morgan looks up at you as you dump your things on your desk and sit down with a sigh. 
“Twenty minutes late, princess,” he grins. “Late night?”
“Not today, Derek.” You stuff your face in your hands, the pounding in your head intensifying. Your voice is low, strained, nothing like the usual teasing tone you take up with him. 
Morgan immediately frowns in concern. “Hey, are you okay?” He leans over the divider between your desks and takes a closer look at you.
“Fine,” you mumble, your voice muffled. You lift your head and give him a weary smile. “Just tired from last night’s case.”
He nods and leaves you alone as you turn on your computer and sigh at the stack of paperwork ahead of you. Looking up out of habit, you smile at the sight of Aaron in his office, his head bent as he works on something. 
The two of you had your first date just before this previous case. He got you flowers, specifically ones that wouldn’t trigger your allergies, and when he told you that with a flustered smile you felt yourself fall impossibly deeper. You had kissed him to stop his rambling, threaded your fingers through his as he walked you to his car and opened the door for you. Like a gentleman, you’d thought giddily, your heart bursting at the image of him in your head perfectly meeting reality.
He got you ice cream after dinner, intimately aware of your sweet tooth, and you were left wondering if it was too soon to think about marriage.
It had been a perfect night, one that left you wanting for more of him just like this; funny and relaxed and soft. You’d wanted so badly to push him into your apartment, have him take off your dress and press his lips to your skin. But you forced yourself to say goodbye at the door, his chaste kiss sweet against your lips. You wanted to take it slow, to do it right. He wasn’t going to be a quick fuck for you and you wanted him to know that. 
Because you’re in love with him, have been for years. And you’re pretty damn sure he’s in love with you too.
You’re broken from your reverie when you hear Emily approaching, a steaming mug in her hands. You give her a questioning look when she sets down the mug on your desk, the light color of the liquid telling you it’s some kind of herbal tea instead of coffee.
“You’ve got that first day period look about you,” she whispers before you can ask. You smile and pick up the tea, taking a sip and feeling the scalding liquid burn all the way down.
“That bad, huh?” You close your eyes when Emily brushes your hair away from your forehead. Her short nails scratch soothingly against your scalp and you hum, resting your head lightly against her stomach. 
“You’re a little pale,” she murmurs. “Did you eat?”
You say nothing and bring the tea to your lips again, avoiding your friend’s gaze. 
“Typical,” Emily sighs—quite boldly of her, knowing she’s no different. “Hotch won’t be happy about that,” she teases softly, her lips turning up in a gentle smile. She may or may not have given you and Aaron the final push you both needed.
You shrug as your cheeks tint pink. “I’ll eat in a bit,” you say, in no hurry to do so with the way your stomach churns. “The pain really blocks my appetite.” You scrunch your nose. 
Emily hums, all too familiar with the feeling. “I’d tell you to take some meds, but you need to eat for that.” She strokes your hair soothingly, making you lean into her touch.
“I will, Em,” you smile up at her. “When my stomach settles. This is helping by the way, thanks.” You tilt your head to the mug you’re now holding against your stomach, the heat of it seeping through your shirt.
“You’re welcome,” Emily squeezes your shoulder and heads to her own desk. 
Sighing, you tip your head back and adjust your grip on the mug in your hands, wishing you had something for your thighs too. And your head. And your lower back. 
You give yourself a few seconds before you rub your eyes and sit up straight, trying to start on your report. 
The words blur on the page in front of you and you blink, trying to bring them back into focus. You sip your tea, hoping it’ll kick start your brain into writing something, but your head pounds incessantly, jumbling up the words in your head.
The next sip of tea brings a sudden nausea with it, the liquid sloshing around in your empty stomach with nothing else. You set it down with a grimace. 
Fucking great.
Morgan and Reid are bickering incessantly behind you, Emily clacks away at her computer and Anderson is talking louder than usual, his voice piercing your head. You blow out a breath and grab your pen, forcing yourself to ignore them and look at your paperwork. You squint at the paper, the bright fluorescent lights of the bullpen like needles in your eyes.
You give up and slump on your desk with a groan, welcoming the darkness and the cool wood against your forehead. You cross your arms tightly over your aching stomach, feeling the frustrating press of tears against your closed eyelids.
Aaron leaves his office in search of coffee and catches sight of you with your head on your desk, your hair shielding your face. Your back shudders as you inhale, the ragged rise and fall of it visible even from a distance.
He hurries down to you and gently touches your shoulder, your name falling softly from his mouth. You tilt your head up to look at him, too tired to lift it from the desk. “Aaron, hey.” You give him a worn out smile. 
Your hair falls into your face. Aaron gently brushes it away and notes your crossed arms held tightly against your stomach, your nails digging into your biceps.
“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, eyeing your tired face and the bags under your eyes. “You look pale. Are you sick?” He presses the back of his hand against your forehead, but your skin is cool.
If the cramps weren’t currently tearing your body to shreds, you might have felt the butterflies at his obvious concern. “I’m not,” you say slowly, wetting your dry lips. “I’ll be fine, my head just hurts a bit.”
A bit is a gross oversimplification, and from the look on Aaron’s face, he knows it too. “Just your head?” He raises his brows, his eyes pointedly drifting down to your stomach.
A strange heat rises to your cheeks. “I’ll be fine, Aaron.” You insist as you lift yourself up against the chair. The light shines directly into your eyes and you wince, pressing your palm against your lids.
“Clearly,” he mutters, looking at your desk and the still empty paperwork and reports you have yet to fill out. “Go home. You can finish this tomorrow.”
“No,” you shake your head adamantly despite the roiling in your stomach. “I’m fine, I just—” You shut your eyes and blow out a shaky breath when you feel a sudden cramp in your abdomen, “I just need a minute.” You rasp.
Aaron eyes your dull skin and the way you tightly grip your seat, your knuckles sharp as you take in ragged breaths. He sighs and crouches down in front of you, the gentle way he says your name forcing your eyes open. 
“Please. Go home or I’ll drive you myself.” His brown eyes are soft with concern, his brows furrowed and lips tipped downward.
You want to shake your head, but a sharp pain in your stomach almost makes you gasp. You bite your lip and look down at your watch. “It’s only 11.” You protest weakly. 
Aaron shakes his head at your stubbornness, your pain clear in the way your face twists. “You’re in pain, sweetheart,” he whispers, unable to stop himself from saying it. Your eyes widen slightly at the nickname, but he continues, undeterred.
“Please. Go home, take care of yourself. You can be here first thing tomorrow, I promise, but you’re not well now.” He’s using the same soft, soothing tone he uses whenever Jack is sick and refusing his medication, and it seems to have the same effect on you.
You wilt against the seat and nod. “Okay,” you finally relent, the relief obvious in your voice. 
Aaron smiles slightly, dimples poking out in victory as he stands up. You don’t even have to pack anything, your purse still closed on your desk. You pocket your phone and stand, your hand reaching for Aaron’s elbow when you stumble slightly. 
“Sorry,” you mumble. 
“Shh, you’re okay,” he steadies you with a hand on your back. “Come on, I’ll walk with you.”
You don’t protest and allow him to walk you to the elevator. A part of you is surprised that he’s showing this side of him at work, uncaring of the team’s piercing gazes that you can feel following you all the way out of the bullpen. 
You lean into his side a little when you’re out of sight, the warmth of his hand on your back seeping into your skin as you wait for the elevator. 
You’re almost disappointed when it dings.
The doors open and you walk in with a quiet sigh. Aaron walks in with you too, ignoring your surprised look. You open your mouth to protest, but he speaks first.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay driving? I can take you,” he offers.
You smile. The thought does sound nice. But you shake your head, despite your aching body and the long drive ahead of you. And the crushing need to let him take care of you. “I’ll be fine.” You force yourself to say. “Thank you, though.”
Aaron nods. “Drive safe.” He smiles at you gently. “Text me when you get home.”
“I will.” Your fingers magically find their way into his hair. You push the soft strands away from his forehead, biting back a smile when he involuntarily leans into your touch.
His hand finds the curve of your waist. “Maybe I can come by later?” He whispers. 
You feel your body grow warm, a comforting glow that he always brings out in you. You smile, momentarily distracted from the pain in your body.
“I’d like that. But I won’t be much fun,” you gesture to yourself with a shrug. The elevator stops and the doors slide open into the parking lot. 
“That’s just nonsense,” Aaron tilts your face down to kiss your forehead, his palms warm on your cheeks. “Be careful, honey.” 
“I will.” You stamp a quick kiss on his lips, your cheeks warm, and head to your car. Aaron holds the elevator doors open and waits until you get in before heading again to the sixth floor.
He walks back into the bullpen, past his team gathered at Emily’s desk, including Garcia. They smirk at him and he glares back.
“Not a word.” 
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hybridirl · 8 months
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i’ve never done this before…
18 + only, please!
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ellie x f!loser!reader
a/n: so basically i was on janitor ai because i’m genuinely an addicted freak and this was inspired by a chat i had :3 im also replaying tlou2 bc i cant stop i need it i need it i need it. also i think a LOT more things make sense now, so i think you should replay after u play it.
brief summary: ellie is ur big sister’s best friend! but, unfortunately you’re dubbed an “annoying little sister,” your sister’s not home, ellie’s high when she comes over, and ur a loser nerd who can’t deal with confrontation :(. (au if it wasn’t obvious!)
tw / DUBCON?, ellie is very mean, degrading, praise, pet names, reader is a virgin, small age gap if you really squint, porn without a plot, rushed sex, scissoring (tribbling?), use of y/n i think…
⋆ ˚。⋆ ꪆৎ ˚
with a grunt, you pulled your pajama pants up the rest of the way. you were headed to the door after hearing seven hard knocks on the door.
“hello—“ you began, cutting yourself off when you see ellie, your sister’s best friend. “ellie?” you glanced behind her, then behind yourself. “she’s not home right now.”
“yeah, yeah,” she slurred, and your lips went into a thin line from her state, so obviously intoxicated. “she told me come ‘n wait. she’s gettin’ her shit rocked, ‘r whatever. she dropped me off ‘ya know? said you wouldn’t mind. you don’ mind, do you?”
being such a caring person had its ups and downs. you weren’t fond of ellie, and she wasn’t fond of you. she had been your biggest bully throughout the entirety of middle and high school. but, you couldn’t deny her entry. she could get hurt or worse, and you didn’t want that. or to be responsible of it.
you adjusted your glasses, eyeing her with a thoughtful look. her eyes were halflidded, red, and she smelled disgusting. she eyed you right back, her stare almost intimidating.
“no, ellie. i don’t mind,” you said begrudgingly, stepping aside to allow her in. you watched her make her way around the all-too-familiar home while you shut the door. you mentally prepared yourself for tending to her needs; you knew she’d tell if you hadn’t. you also prepared for the anger she would inevitably feel. she was an angry person when intoxicated. you leaned against the door and watched her opened the fridge.
“what do you got?” ellie asked, shutting the refrigerator and looking at you. “what’re you gonna make?”
“i don’t know,” you responded and took a glance at the stove. you hadn’t noticed what she took from the fridge, only gasping when you heard the familiar sound of a beer opening. “hey, hey, hey! that’s my dad’s!” you watched ellie shrug and give you a “so what?” look. “stop it, that’s not good for you!” you rushed over, reaching for the beer, but her rough hand kept you in place as she chugged it down. “ellie, stop! you’re already high, that’s gonna make it worse; ellie, stop!”
“and what the fuck do you know?” she asked as she slammed the beer bottle of the counter, “you stupid fuckin’ loser, what the fuck is wrong with you? i’ll do what-the-fuck-ever i want. you’re such a fucking lame-ass, you won’t even take a lil sip o’ this thing,” she stuck the beer can up to your mouth, which you turned away from, “that’s what i thought, you stupid bitch. you’re probably a virgin, too, huh? you don’t even try- nobody even tries for you. no man, no woman, no whatever. never been in a relationship, never been in fuckin’ nothing. you are such a fucking loser.”
your jaw was slack, almost looking like a fish out of water as it tried to shut and open.
“you’re too high for this,” you said slowly, still shocked at her words. you took a step back, your back pressing against the island counter.
“you don’t know the first thing about ‘too high,’ jackass. bet you never had a dick in you before. too busy studyin’ your stupid fucking books to be the good girl you are. can’t even do this because you’re always bein’ a teacher’s pet, always bein’ a goody-two-shoes, know it all, fucking bitch. probably got a few toys like the desperate freak you are. maybe a dildo? nah, you want that pussy t’stay tight, huh?” you thought it couldn’t get worse than the insults before, but this was insane. your eyes were wide, shock filling your features.
“ellie!” you gasped in horror and embarrassment, “i— i’m calling my sister!”
“you’re a fucking snitch!” she giggled, pointing at you. “she doesn’t care what the fuck i’m saying to you. she’s too busy slutting herself out to give a fuck about your pathetic ass, baby.”
“go away, ellie,” you whimpered out, eyes at the ground. you attempted to push past her, but her hands gripped your wrists. “please.”
“you’re not getting rid of me,” she growled, her beer-breath filling your nostrils, “you’re a goddamn joke. i’m not going anywhere ‘til i’m good ‘n ready. you just know i’m right.” she leaned in, her lips brushing your cheek as she whispered deep into your ear, “you just want my hands all over you, don’t you, y/n? i’ve seen how you watched me. you want a real woman’s hands on ‘ya. all of over your pretty body, hm?”
“no,” you whispered right back, your brows furrowed. this was your sister’s best friend. this was just… wrong; you couldn’t explain it, but it wasn’t right. and she was high! she didn’t know what she was doing, what she was saying, but her touch felt so…
“don’t you lie to me,” she huffed her breath hot in your ear, “you wanna get touched bad. you know you do. you want my hands slidin’ down your pretty panties and touchin’ that clit. make you cum all on my hand. you want that, don’t you?”
“ellie,” you almost moaned out at her dirty talk, your brows knitted together in conflict. your hand went to cover your mouth as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pjs and simultaneously your underwear.
“let it out, baby,” she told as your hand muffled a broken moan, “you’re already so, so wet for me. this pussy’s just beggin’ for my touch, huh?” her finger-pad ran across your clit and your knees buckled. she giggled in response, a lazy grin plastered on her face. “mm, ya feel that? this’s what y’ve been missin’ out on with all that nerdy bullshit you do.” her fingers slipped easily inside you, making your eyes roll with pleasure; another moan escaped your throat. “y’so tight. just like i thought.” she pulled her fingers out, quickly giving them a lick before tugging your bottoms down. “oh, baby…” she moaned at the sight, licking her lips as she took you in. “look at that pretty pussy. mhm, ‘n all f’r me, huh?” she knelt down, getting face to face with your cunt. “answer me.” she kissed at your inner thighs. all you could do was watch, trembling under her dominating touch.
you yelped, jumping in surprise as she bit your thigh harshly.
“i said answer.”
“y-yes! all for you, ‘s all for you,” you whimpered, whining as her mouth finally met with your drooling pussy. your resolve had slipped away, only thinking about that needy, touch-starved vulva of yours. “oh, ellie…” she grinned as she watching you come undone, your fingers slipping into her hair and tugging at it. she lapped and lapped at your clit, tongue running circles around the sensitive bud. she gave it a last kiss before she pulled away, smirking at your distress.
“preview, baby. all that was. go to your room, m’followin’ you.”
you were anxious to walk, taking just a moment before giddily rushing to your room. the masculine woman easily followed your direction, shutting the door hard behind her as she pulled you down to the bed with her. her hands were immediately on you as you lay atop her, caressing and running down your back, cupping your ass and squeezing.
“you’re so ready for me baby, aren’t you?” she asked with a small smirk playing at her lips. “you wanna grind that pretty pussy on mine, don’t you?”
“i-i’ve never done this before, i-i don’t know what to do,” you admitted, although she already knew your circumstance.
“makin’ me do all the work, you pretty lil pillow princess?” she teased, that same lazy grin on her face. she easily flipped you over, watching your eyes widen in surprise. “god, how are you so perfect…” she moaned softly to herself, her hands running down your sides, down your legs, and down your calves. she reached her jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging them down quickly. you gulped as you eyed her pubic mound, her dark hair trimmed finely.. she lifted your hips up, appreciating your vulva once more. she used her thumb to lift up your clitoral hood, bending down to meet the pearl with her tongue. “mm, god, i can’t get enough of you. pull your shirt up, wanna see those tits ‘ve been wantin’ to see.” you did as you were told, quickly pulling your nightshirt up and showing her your breasts. a groan left her throat as her hands reached out to touch them, tweaking and rolling your nipples between her fingers.
“please,” you whined, your head tilted back. “please, ellie…”
“oh, i know you’re so needy, huh? never done this before? never been touched so good by another girl b’fore, huh?” ellie teased once more, and all you could do was nod. it was all true. “say it, baby. tell me how much of a loser you are.”
with an embarrassed grimace, you obliged, “i-i’m a big loser. ‘ve never, ever gotten laid ‘n i wanna… oh!” you gasped as you felt the sensation of her pussy meet yours. “ellie…” her hips ground against yours, your clits bumping and running across each other.
“you like this? my pussy all over yours?” she growled, rolling her hips to meet your cunt. “fuck, you’re so wet.” you moaned out, your hands trying to find a place to stay as they flailed. they gripped the sheets and you watched above as her pussy slid across yours. you both glistened with a thin layer of sweat, your bodies becoming hot with arousal. “you feel so fucking good.”
“yes,” you cried, “more.” and she gave you more, her hips rolling with fervor while you writhed in pleasure. “p-please— ellie!”
“yeah, scream my name you little slut,” she purred, her auburn hair sticking to her sweaty face. “let ‘em know— let the neighbors know you’re finally getting laid.”
you continued to moan her name, completely drunk on this feeling. she let out small little ‘just like that’s’ as your voice echoed off the walls of your room.
it was intense, your bodies moving together and so perfectly in sync. sweat dripped from her forehead onto your belly, slightly coating your skin. her hands gripped your chest as she ground against you, the position slightly awkward, but pleasing nonetheless as your heats mushed together in symphony. sloppy squelches filled your ears, almost drowned out by your moans and cries as she took you.
“i’m gonna,” you began, tears welling up in your pretty eyes, “i’m gonna cum, ellie!”
“yeah? right on my pussy? cum right on my pussy, baby,” she moaned, her hands reaching her cup her own breast. you moaned, following her command like a dog as your canal contracting around nothing, costing her slick folds in all your essence. your body convulsed as you came, and the sight forced a moan out of her throat. “yeah, that’s it, my good girl, fu—ck… i’m cumming!” with her orgasm following in suit, she gripped your leg hard, riding out her orgasm as you tried to come down from your own. you whined from the overstimulation, feeling her arousal spread out on your flesh. she shushed you, her index finger on your lips as she calmed her breathing. she dropped your leg, plopping beside you with a grunt.
“t-that was good,” you said to her, your eyes lingering on her glistening face.
“mhm, now you get to brag to a—ll your nerdy, little virgin friends that you,” she jabbed a finger, “got laid.”
“you’re mean,” you huffed, a little pout on your face. she smirked, bringing a hand to the back of your neck and bringing you in to kiss.
“yeah?” she chuckled, “but you like it.”
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daemour · 8 months
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I Can See You
Pairing: single dad! Seonghwa x babysitter! f! yn
Word Count: 10,137
Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, a creepy old man in one scene, age gap (10 years but both are adults (and not just barely)), smut warnings under cut
Genre: Angst, fluff, smut, single parent au, M for mature audiences
Summary: When you took a job babysitting a young toddler, you didn't expect to be so drawn to the family. And more specifically, her frustratingly hot and single dad.
Smut Warnings: masturbation, sexual fantasies, riding, slight (if you squint) corruption kink, sliGHT breeding kink, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), breast play, overstimulation, undiscussed kinks (yn is fine with it. but discuss your fucking kinks guys *gun emoji*), slight cumplay
thank u to @pyeonghongrie and @mingsolo for beta'ing and for the title hehe <3 this is also a collab with @potatomountain who is also writing a dilf hwa (Bittersweet Neighbours), we're just on two sides of the spectrum lol...and this is so damn long
-
“Hello, I’m here for a babysitter interview with a Mr Park?”
“That would be me. Miss (Y/N)?”
When you answered the ad in the newspaper about babysitting, you were so ready to see an older man, around his fifties. But this man looked so young, around his late twenties although you’re sure he’s probably forty. And you’re not one to judge—nearing your mid-twenties one wouldn’t be expecting you to still babysit as a full-time job. But it pays the bills and helps you get some hands-on experience in your degree, child development.
“Ah, yes. That’s me,” your words spill out as you realise he is awaiting an answer. Mentally, you berate yourself for the immediate blunder while Mr Park’s eyes crinkle with amusement.
“Come on in and make yourself comfy on the couch. I’ll be right there. Would you like anything to drink?” Mr Park’s voice is smooth like butter and you have a hard time making sure you don’t get lost in it.
Again, you nod, actual wordy responses jumbled in your brain, walking to the couch and sitting down almost mechanically. If you were mentally present, you would have noticed the smile the older man sends your way.
He doesn’t take too long, returning with two glasses of water. “You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I just got you water. Is that okay?”
Thankfully, you finally can respond coherently and smile, albeit a little shakily. “Yes, thank you so much.”
You take the glass with both hands, thanking him again quietly and taking a small sip before just holding it as you wait for him to be seated. You’ve felt awkward before, but this is a new extreme. Normally you pride yourself on keeping your cool in front of someone you think is hot, but Mr Park…he’s something else. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on the coffee table, only letting yourself glance at him occasionally so he doesn’t realise just how in awe you are.
“Jihee will be home from school soon, so you’ll see her soon. For now it’ll just be old me and my questions,” Mr Park starts his interview as soon as he sits on the couch across from you. “Now, I saw in your application that your major was in child development? Can I ask why that interested you?”
You blink at him for a moment, not expecting that question. Sure, bringing it up was expected, but the way he sounds like he’s interviewing you for a position in a company amuses you. “Uh…I just grew up with a lot of siblings and their kids. I’m the youngest of six, and the oldest is sixteen years older than me so I have a lot of nieces and nephews as well. Children have always been a part of my life, and my first job was babysitting so it’s something I’m very used to. Child development was just a way for me to learn even more and in a less… hands-on way. Poopy diapers are not my favourite.” You pause. “Not that I can’t change them! Or that Jihee uses them. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
You’re so sure your face is bright red right now as you stumble over your words, and you’re ready to be kicked out, but all Mr Park does instead is laugh at your embarrassment. It’s a little mean but it’s better than your worst conclusion so you’ll take it. “It’s okay,” Mr Park smiles at you. “It’s okay to ramble, it was actually quite amusing. Now, I’d just like to warn you, Jihee has trouble with working on schoolwork. While that usually isn’t an issue, she may be asking you to help her with her homework and reading and I just thought I’d give you a heads up. Would that cause any trouble?”
“It wouldn’t bother me, and I’ll try my best. I took children’s education in college as well so it’d be a good time for me to exercise that,” you laugh quietly. Your first dream was to be a governess, no matter how few jobs there are for that type of work.
Mr Park nods thoughtfully. “Glad to give you some experience in that,” he hums after careful consideration, a smile on his face. “Her struggles lie in understanding the problems and in English. If she faces any difficulty then I can always help out.”
Before either of you continues speaking, his watch beeps and he glances down. Without another word, he stands and goes to open the front door. “Uh–” Your confusion escapes you before you can stop it.
“Oh, Jihee’s almost home and I always leave the door open for her,” he explains, eyes still trained on his watch. “You’ll get to meet her, and then we can discuss more details. And just to reiterate the ad, this is going to be a job that requires a lot of hours. I, of course, will be paying you for any sort of overtime if I need to stay at the office later. Does your schedule still allow for that?”
You hold back your smile. Your schedule mostly consists of scrolling the internet for job opportunities and eating lunch with your friends. “Yes, I can do that,” you affirm. “I’ll need holidays off, but I assume that’s a given as you’ll also be with Jihee?”
A smile pulls at the corner of Mr Park’s mouth. “Very astute,” he chuckles. “Now, here she comes.”
The door swings open without another word from either of you and a little girl dressed in pink and ribbons barrels into Mr Park’s knees. He lets out a quiet grunt, stabilising himself against the door as his hand strokes at her hair. “Hello, Jihee,” he hums fondly. "How was school today?"
The young girl beams up at her father. "So fun!" she grins, her words slightly slurred in her excitement. "Today, Mrs Lee had us do shapes and my favourite colour is blue now! I have so many blue crayons."
Mr Park's eyebrow raises at the mention of crayons. "Do you have them with you?" he asks, and Jihee nods vigorously. "Can I see them?"
Another nod comes from the child and she immediately plops on the floor, pulling out her pencil case and opening it to reveal at least ten crayons, all of varying sizes. What stands out to you the most is that half of them are green. "See! All blue. But this one's my favourite." She grabs at a particularly long and skinny one, a shade of emerald green.
"Ah. Lovey, remember, your colours are a little different, right?" Mr Park talks in a gentle voice, very different from the very adult voice he used with you. "That's a green crayon."
Jihee's face drops. "Oh." Her bottom lip juts out in a pout.
Mr Park holds out his hand and Jihee drops the crayon into his palm. "You can't take the crayons from school anyway, dear. Why don't we leave these in your bag and you can give them back and apologise to Mrs Lee tomorrow?"
Jihee's pout grows bigger but she nods. "Okay, daddy," she agrees and Mr Park nods proudly.
"Now, do you want to meet your new friend?" You flinch as Mr Park mentions you, sitting up straighter in your chair before ultimately deciding to stand instead.
"Hi, Jihee," you do your best to speak with the same quiet tone Mr Park used. "I'm (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you."
You offer your hand for her to shake and Jihee looks at you, her thinking face almost a spitting image of her father's before she walks over and takes your hand with gusto. "Hi, Mrs (Y/N).”
"Ah, I'm not a Mrs," you correct her. "You can call me (Y/N)."
"Miss (Y/N)," Mr Park quietly interrupts and you nod, not wanting to override his parenting although being called 'miss' will catch you off-guard for the time being. "Why don't you tell her one thing about yourself and then Miss (Y/N) has to go, okay?"
Jihee's mouth twists in sadness, her hand still gripping yours. "Okay," she sighs again. "I get to talk to her more later though, right?"
Mr Park nods. "Of course. Miss (Y/N) will be spending a lot of time with you, so I'm glad you like her."
Jihee nods solemnly. "I like pretty people and you're super pretty," she tells you earnestly and your heart swells at the compliment.
“Thank you, Jihee,” you thank her genuinely, although you’re amused at the fact that she considers her appreciation for physical looks a good introduction to herself. “It was nice to meet you.”
With another decisive nod, Jihee turns and marches right off down the hall, presumably to her room. Mr Park turns to you, finally shutting his front door with a sigh. “That was Jihee. Ball of energy extraordinaire. She comes home from school at one-thirty, and will put her own things away before coming to eat a snack. She has one worksheet to do a day but with your help she’ll get it fairy quickly. I’ll email you a list of house rules.”
You nod. “That sounds perfect. What would the schedule look like? What time would I be here, and when would I expect you to come home?”
Mr Park hums, running a hand through his perfect hair. “For her school days, I’d like to have you in here maybe ten minutes before she comes. I’ll always leave her snack in the fridge and you can just pop it in the microwave and make yourself comfortable before she comes barrelling in. Then I’ll be home at five-thirty sharp whenever possible. Every other Saturday I’m in the office for eight hours and you’ll be watching Jihee for those days. If you can’t do a Saturday, just let me know so I can get someone to watch her, but generally I’d like you here from eight to five.”
You nod. All your friends have atypical work schedules so your Saturdays are empty in general, and since the weekdays are shorter hours you don’t mind. “When it comes to after-school playdates, should I expect you to be home or would you like me to take care of them?”
Mr Park’s lips tighten almost imperceptibly. “That won’t be an issue. Jihee doesn’t do playdates.” Your curiosity spikes at his short answer but his tone leaves no room for discussion so you don’t press it. “I’ll give you a key now. Tomorrow is my off-Saturday but if you can come in just to adjust yourself that would be great. I have some work to get done anyway so I’ll be mostly out of your hair although you can still ask me questions.”
You nod again. “Yeah, that works,” you confirm after a quick check to your phone calendar. When you look up, Mr Park is already holding out a key and you take it after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Mr Park nods, moving to open the door when Jihee calls out with a whining tone to her voice. “Daddy, I need help!”
Mr Park sighs but it’s full of affection for his daughter. “I would walk you to your car but she calls for me,” his head dips into an apologetic bow but you shake your head.
“Don’t worry about it,” you smile at him. “There’s no need for that at all.” That is one of the main reasons, but another part of you doesn’t want him to know you have no car and you take the bus to his neighbourhood and then walk the rest of the way.
A twenty-four-year-old with no car? It’s a little embarrassing, especially in the area you both live in where it’s almost required to have a car to do anything. Generally, your babysitting jobs were close enough to your home, but the salary of this job enticed you to give up walking.
As you exit, you can hear Jihee starting off her complaints about her jacket and you smile to yourself subconsciously.
-
You’ve been working with the Parks for almost a month now and generally, it’s a good time. You only really see Mr Park when he comes home, but by then you have one foot out the door. There are days when he looks so beaten down that you want to offer him some encouragement, but you don’t want to step out of your boundaries. So, you just keep your head down and leave.
Jihee is sweet and easy-going, not hard for you to get along with. She always has some sort of fun idea for you to play along with and her schoolwork hasn’t been too terrible although you dread when she starts getting into more difficult maths.
But today, as soon as Jihee walks into the door, you suspect something is wrong. She doesn’t greet you as excitedly as she used to, just stalking straight into her bedroom and coming right now, settling herself down on the couch with a pout on her face.
“Jihee, don’t you want to eat?” you try to coax her to the dinner table, but she just shakes her head, immobile. You frown. It’s strange for the usually talkative child to be this closed off. “Did something happen at school?”
Jihee glares at the coffee table, shaking her head. “No,” she mutters but her cold-stone facade drops immediately as she suddenly bursts into tears. Your heart drops for the child crying on your couch and you immediately run to her and pull her into your arms. “Why don’t they like me?” she wails into your shirt and your heart drops.
You had suspected it when Mr Park shut down the playdate idea very quickly, but this just solidifies your thoughts. How could the kids at school not like such a sweet kid? As you’ve been working for the Parks for quite a bit now, you’ve grown to adore the young girl like she was one of your own nieces.
You don’t say anything just yet, just patting her hair and doing your best to calm her down. It takes almost an hour but now she just curls up in your arms, her hands gripping your shirt as she’s so close to falling asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up so you resign yourself to letting her sleep on you for now.
Within ten minutes, you fall asleep as well. It’s not what you meant to do, but you couldn’t have stopped yourself. When your eyes open again, Jihee is no longer in your arms and there’s a large fluffy blanket laid on top of you. You blink yourself awake before panic sets in and you shoot up, looking around. “Jihee?” you call out and hear deep laughter behind you. When your head snaps back you see Mr Park chuckling at your face.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Miss (Y/N).”
It takes a minute for your words to register, blinking stupidly at your employer for a few moments before your face drops and you practically leap off the couch. “I’m so sorry!” you cry, bowing rapidly at a low angle. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and it won’t happen again.”
You keep your eyes lowered and you look up at him through your lashes, scared of how he’ll react but to your surprise, Mr Park’s smile grows and he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, you looked comfortable and the doors were locked. Jihee didn’t get into any trouble, just was a little bored since you were asleep.”
You shake your head. “Regardless, I shouldn’t sleep on the job but thank you for the kindness. Jihee is very responsible for her age and it certainly reflects on your parenting.” You smile back at him.
“Well, thank you for your kind words. It means a lot to me as well,” Mr Park hums. “Would you like to join us for dinner? I know you usually leave around the time I get back but let me at least feed you before you go.”
You frown. “I’d like to, but I should get going,” you say absentmindedly. “I have to make it in time to catch the bus.”
You’re looking around, trying to gather your belongings, when you realise how silent Mr Park is. And in turn, you realise what you just said. “You take the bus?” His voice lowers and you stare at the look of concern he has on his face. “It’s practically dark by the time you leave and you’re walking to the bus stop by yourself?”
“Ah– it’s okay! It’s not a far walk, just up the street.” You hurry to defend your choices, waving your hands. “I’ve gotten home safe so far, no?”
Mr Park shakes his head. “No, you can’t take chances. I’ll drive you home tonight after dinner. You must stay.”
You stare up at him with wide eyes, but his stance is unwavering. And as much as you would usually protest—being taken home by a much older man would usually ring alarms in your head—the idea of not having to wait in the cold and the dark by yourself is very appealing. And from how you’ve interacted with him before, Mr Park seems very sweet, and you trust him just a little more than you probably should.
“Well, I do thank you for your kindness,” you sigh, nodding your head in concession. “But this will be the only time.”
Mr Park chuckles, not taking you seriously. “We’ll see. Now come on. Tonight is beef stew and my younger brother will come for dinner as well.”
“Uncle Uyu is coming?” You can hear Jihee’s excited voice coming from the kitchen as well as her feet pittering on the floor as she launches herself into your lap. “Hi again, Miss (Y/N).”
“Hello again, Miss Jihee,” you tease, pressing the tip of your finger to her forehead and Jihee giggles.
“Are you staying for dinner?” You nod again and she screeches in happiness, not giving a second glance at how you wince at the sound. “I can’t wait! I have to make you pretty! Come with me.”
With as much seriousness as she can muster in her body, she pulls you by the hand into her room as Mr Park watches the two of you with a soft smile and follows the two of you into Jihee’s room. He takes a seat on the bed as Jihee fusses over your hair, styling it with her toddler's hands and putting an obscene amount of hair clips into it. But you’re whipped for the little girl and you let her do whatever she wants, ending up in two uneven pigtails and a plethora of Hello Kitty clips.
“Daddy, isn’t it pretty?” Jihee giggles, moving your head to tilt so her father can take a look at her work. “It’s better than your hair to practice!”
Mr Park, mock-affronted, holds his hand to his chest. “Betrayed by my own daughter? Alas, but I can let it slide as this may very well be your best work.”
Jihee giggles, pressing her face against your cheek when the doorbell rings. “Uncle Uyu!” As always, her focus is diverted by any new thing and she runs for the door, both you and Mr Park following shortly after. As she yanks the door open, a man around Seonghwa’s age greets her just as excitedly, bending down to pick her up and spin her around.
“Jiji,” he cheers, “Already so big?” His eyes find you and you offer a small wave. “And who’s this? Seonghwa, you found a girl?”
Mr Park’s jaw drops and your eyes widen as you rush to contradict. “Oh, no, no, I’m just the babysitter. Mr Park has kindly invited me for dinner.”
Wooyoung chuckles at the look on both your faces. “Don’t worry, I just like to pull on Seonghwa’s leg. You’re a little young for him too.”
You offer a smile. “Yeah, and the forties are a little out of my age range as well,” you try to joke, but to your surprise, Wooyoung breaks out cackling, startling Jihee who starts laughing with him confusedly. Mr Park’s shocked face has somehow become even more intense.
“You think I’m how old?” Wooyoung has reigned in his laughter although a smile still pulls at his lips. “I’m only thirty-four!”
A gasp made its way out of your mouth as you start bowing rapidly again in apology. “I’m so sorry! You look your age, I just assumed you had to be older.”
Mr Park sighs, although an amused smile now graces his face. “It’s okay, I can understand it. I’ll just be giving you a hard time from now on.” He punctuates with a wink and your eyes snap down to Jihee in embarrassment.
“Let’s get on with dinner so I can go home and just melt in embarrassment, okay?” you groan and the two older men laugh. Jihee seems to agree with your sentiment, declaring her hunger grumpily and you laugh and pick her up. “See, even Jihee’s on my side. Let’s eat now.”
Mr Park hums, stepping aside. “All right, I see I’m outnumbered now. I hope you don’t mind how casual this dinner is, but I promise the food is worth it. Wooyoung’s the better cook, but he’s taught me a few tricks.”
You shrug. “Any food is good food to me. At home, I have instant ramen and fried rice so it’s a nice change.”
Out of disapproval, Mr Park shakes his head although the smile does not leave his face. “I do not miss my college diet. Please, take a seat.” He motions to the dinner table, pulling out a chair for you to seat yourself, sitting beside you as Wooyoung and Jihee join the other side of the table.
“So, tell me about yourself (Y/N),” Wooyoung hums, leaning on the table by his elbows. “You’re in college?”
You shake your head. “I graduated a year and a half ago, I’m twenty-four now, but it feels like just yesterday I was taking my finals,” you chuckle. “What was your major, Mr Wooyoung?”
Wooyoung smiled, “Please, call me Wooyoung. Mr Wooyoung just sounds weird. But to answer your question, my major was culinary, of course. Before I taught Hwa how to cook, he was hopeless. I think I was feeding him and Jihee primarily other than his sandwiches and canned soup.” He sighs, leaning back and smirking at Mr Park whose ears are red.
“Hey, Youngah, I paid you for your work. Don’t make me seem incompetent,” Mr Park snorts, leaning over to smack the back of his neck. “Wooyoung may be eight years younger than me but he certainly acts like he’s five.”
You laugh at the banter. “Me and my siblings were the same way. We’d always fight but in the end, we care for each other. It’s sweet to see you guys act the same.” You smile, taking a bite of your stew. “Thank you for letting me sit in on your family dinner.”
Mr Park shakes his head. “Of course. Can’t let you walk on your own at night, you know. I’d be happy to give you a ride home from now on.”
“Ah, no, I can’t make you do that,” you try and decline again but Seonghwa is having none of that.
“It’s not a matter of making me, I offered. I can’t let my babysitter just stand around in the dark. Let me do this for you. Jihee cares for you, she wouldn’t want to make you get hurt.”
You frown, pursing your lips. “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you concede. “Thank you once again.”
Mr Park shakes his head, his hand moving up to ruffle your hair. “Don’t worry about it.” His hand rests atop your head a moment longer before he remembers who he is in relation to you. “Ah, sorry. Habit from Jihee.”
The heartfelt moment is cut loose by everyone amused at Mr Park’s habit. Jihee immediately takes the initiative to start rambling about stickers, engrossing everyone in the conversation, Wooyoung being particularly vocal. The dinner is finished with no other events, and you offer to help clean up, ignoring Mr Park when he tries to protest.
“Thank you for helping out,” he tries to thank you but you wave your hand dismissively.
“You fed me and are driving me home. It’s the least I could do. Shall we head out though? I don’t want you to have to leave Jihee for too long.”
Mr Park nods, grabbing his keys and jangling them as he opens the door to the garage. You do your best to not show your surprise at the sight of his fancy car. Of course, you knew he was well off, but you never imagined you’d actually be sitting in his car. He even opens the door for you, letting you slide into the passenger seat.
You hold yourself stiffly, but Mr Park looks over and just laughs at you. “Relax, I’m not going to bite you. Just let me know where to go and we’ll be set. Want a piece of gum?”
He holds out a pack of gum and you gladly take the piece, happy for the distraction. Most of the car ride is silent, except for you telling him occasionally where to go. But as he pulls up to your street, he slows to a crawl.
“You know, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around.me. Sure, I’m your employer, but I’m also a dad. I got the dad instinct, you know?” Your lips twitch at his attempt to be comforting. “Really, though. Don’t hold yourself so tight around me. I don’t mind doing this for you.”
You turn your eyes down. “Thank you. I’ll try, it’s just a little weird for me if you understand. But I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me.” As you unbuckle your seatbelt, you smile at Mr Park. “I hope you have a good night.”
As you go to your apartment building, Mr Park leans out of his car and calls after you. “You can call me Seonghwa, (Y/N). Mr Park makes me feel old.”
You laugh at his admission. “We’ll see, grandpa!” You can’t help but tease him before running into your home, leaving an amused Seonghwa outside.
-
These days you and Seonghwa have become a lot more friendly. He’s taken to driving you home despite your protests and during the car rides, some interesting conversations have happened. For example, you learnt that he built his company from the ground and yet is respected in many old money circles.
Okay, maybe you didn’t learn that from a conversation, and instead just searched on the internet. But what can you say? You’re curious about the man who happens to be your charge’s father and the man who happens to be very very handsome.
Maybe you have a bit of a crush on Seonghwa, but you couldn’t blame yourself. There was something about him. It is the aura he holds himself with, the kindness in his smile when he arrives home, and it helps that he is hot. Every so often, you can’t help but find yourself glancing at his pretty hands, or his well-toned arms, and you have to look away before heat spreads up to your ears.
You’re down bad, and it’s not getting any better. Every time you see Seonghwa, you want to jump him but it would be inappropriate. Not only is he your employer, but he’s also a decade older than you. There’s no way he would be interested in you, he probably sees you just as some kid.
With a sigh, you look down at your sketchbook. Today was supposed to be a fun day. Both Jihee and Seonghwa were off today, so you were spending the day with her as Seonghwa was still called into the office to put in some extra hours. But then the toddler fell sick and you were tasked with taking care of her.
At least it was a fairly easy job—Jihee slept most of the day and you were free to work on some of your more personal projects. Although your passion lies in children, you do enjoy drawing and even took a couple of classes in college. As you lay on the couch sketching, you get so lost in your mind you don’t even register the door opening and the footsteps coming towards you.
“Is that me?”
A shriek rips its way out of your throat as you do your best to whirl around and hold your drawings to your chest, but your legs get caught in the blanket and you instead fall half off the couch to the ground. Your chin props your head up on the ground but your legs are still tangled on the couch, your arms twisted into the blanket, the sketchbook an arm’s reach away.
“Hi, Mr– Seonghwa. How was work today?” you mumble half into the carpet, too embarrassed to look up. “Jihee’s taking a nap in her room.”
After a moment of silence, Seonghwa laughs, although it’s a little pained. “Uh. Do you need help up?”
You groan, pulling one of your arms out from your cocoon prison. “That would be great, thanks. Sorry.”
One of his cool hands gently takes your elbow as another comes to rest on your back. It’s at the moment you realise your shirt has ridden up. You can’t help but tense at the touch, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t show on your face. “Jihee’s taking a nap?”
You’re grateful he chose to brush over the incident. “Yeah– yeah. She’s not much better, but she’s not much worse. It’s just a simple cold, so she needs to sleep it off.” You chose to ignore the hand lingering on the small of your back, instead scooching back on your butt to distance yourself just a little bit. He’s your employer, there’s no way you can give in to your feelings.
But the couch seems to be against your plans, as when you try to pull the blankets off your feet you tumble into Seonghwa’s legs, knocking him down as you land on his firm chest. Your face is mere centimetres away from his and you freeze. “I–” you stammer out, Seonghwa equally as awkward.
“Sorry–” He tries to sit up, but it just results in the blankets twisting tighter and pulling you two even closer together. You swear if you could hold your breath, you could feel and hear his heart beating. “Ah, shit.”
You can’t help but laugh a little at his profanity, not something you’ve ever expected to hear from him. “Welcome back, Seonghwa.”
Seognhwa’s eyes widen, his blush deepens, and his head snaps away from you. Your brows furrow at the change in his features and you can’t help but wonder if it’s from the proximity, or if it’s the proximity to you specifically. “Ah. Let’s get out of this, shall we?” he coughs. He carefully detangles himself from the pile and holds out a hand to you.
You grasp it, noting his firm grip and letting him pull you up. “Thanks.”
“I’ll drive you back to your apartment first since Jihee’s asleep right now. It won’t take long.” While Seonghwa’s voice remains warm, his eyes move away from you.
Suddenly a guilty feeling pools in your stomach and you turn away as well, bending to pick up your sketchbook silently. “Of course.” The disappointment fills your head as you internally admonish yourself for even trying to entertain your fantasies of the older man.
But, to your surprise, a warm hand pats you on your shoulder. “You are good at art, (Y/N). You should continue to pursue and practice it, even as just a hobby.” His words make you look up into his eyes and you see a sparkle behind them. “You’re a talented person, and you should take advantage of it.”
“Thank you, Seonghwa,” you smile at him again. “Once again, I appreciate the kindness you offer me.”
Seonghwa chuckles, spinning the car keys as you’ve quickly found out is his habit. “(Y/N), thank you for putting up with such an old man who can offer you nothing but kindness.”
You snort. “You’re not even that old, you geezer.” In retaliation, Seonghwa leans over and pokes you in the forehead.
“Oh, hush and let me take you home.”
-
It’s been almost six months since that day and your feelings have only intensified. But this time, you swear perhaps he may be returning your feelings too. Sometimes you catch him looking at you with a gentle smile, and his hand on your shoulder lingers a little longer than you think. But then he talks to an employee on the phone and you remember how accomplished he is. Even if he wasn’t much older than you, there’s no way you would fit into his lifestyle.
And, like any self-respecting person would do, you start to avoid him. What else are you going to do? Tell him? You’d be crazy to even entertain the thought. There’s no way he would even take you seriously.
These days you’ve just been going to work, and heading straight home. Seonghwa barely has time to catch you, and you’ve been plotting with Jihee to keep him away. She doesn’t quite understand why, but it’s fun to her so she’s happy to. You’re pretty sure half your wallet has gone to sticker sheets. But no matter how many stickers you’ve bought, it doesn’t help Seonghwa from figuring out something is amiss.
It’s your one day off and you’re spending it at home, lounging around and just watching movies while you sulk about your tangled feelings. Watching all these romantic movies doesn’t help at all and you groan. There’s no way you’re going to act like a lonely teenager, you declare to yourself. You’ll go to a club! Maybe meet someone closer to your age and you won’t feel like a wet sock anymore.
That’s it, you’ve convinced yourself. You’ll give yourself a night out. Suddenly inspired, you throw off the blankets covering you and start donning your nicest clothes. There’s a club you used to frequent in your college days, and you haven’t been back since you got the new job. It’d be nice to let loose again.
As the nighttime approaches, you’re almost all ready to go. You have your outfit and your makeup, and all you need is your shoes. Once you pick out your favourite pair of heels (comfy and not too high), you make your way down. You can feel the excitement pounding out of your chest and you can’t wait to get the night started.
As you enter the club, your body immediately relaxes as you take in the atmosphere. It’s been so long, you’re just excited to have fun. Get drunk, find a nice guy, and forget your problems. You down drink after drink, hyping yourself up, but as late night comes, nothing happens. With a sigh, you plunk down your last drink, feeling the buzz of the alcohol burn in your veins.
Nothing will happen tonight, and you just have to come to terms with it. You place down a couple of bills to pay off your tab, tip, and stumble out of the bar. You’re plastered. You can hardly walk in a straight line and you lean against the cool brick for a minute, letting the sensation sober you up a bit as you do your best to call up a taxi.
But before you can do so, a hand creeps onto your bare waist and your head snaps up to see a man, no younger than fifty, leering at you. “Uh, hi?” you slur out, your hands fiddling with your phone as you try and discreetly move to the phone app. You may be plastered, but you’re not a fool and you know what could happen in this situation.
Unfortunately, the old man seems to know what you’re trying and he grabs one of your wrists. “Now, pretty lady, take a break there. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit?” His words are greasy and slimy, and you almost gag at the idea of what he’s insinuating. At least Seonghwa isn’t triple your age…and he’s hot.
“Ah, no thanks,” you manage to push past him, pressing your most recent contact and holding the phone to your ear. “I’m a little uh…” You’re cut off when whoever you call starts speaking.
“(Y/N)? Why are you calling me? It’s nine.” Seonghwa’s voice crackles through the receiver. “Are you okay?”
“Ah, shit,” you groan, stumbling to your side and colliding with the wall. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you. I’m just out and–”
Once again, the old man approaches you and pulls you back by the waist. “Come on, pretty. Get off the phone and pay attention to me.”
You shake your head and pull away again, moving even more down the street. “No, no, I’m not– just leave me alone. I want to go home,” you say, shaking your head, still holding the phone to your face. “Just…I wanna go home.”
“(Y/N), are you okay? Where are you?” You can hear the worry in Seonghwa’s voice rise and a faint jingling of keys. “I’m going to get you. Wooyoung’s here so he can watch Jihee. Talk to me, (Y/N).”
“I’m at the club Desire. Or near it. I don’t know.” Your head is muddled and no matter where you look, the street signs are blurring and the old man is still trying to get your attention. “I just want to go home,” you repeat, tears springing to your eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone!”
The old man growls at your tone, grabbing at you again. “Don’t be stupid, child. You can come home with me and I’ll teach you how to be proper for a man like you.” His breath reeks of alcohol and bad breath and you instinctively slap him across the face. Surprised, he jerks back, and you take a couple of shaky steps back again.
“Leave me be! I don’t want you near me.”
The old man’s eyes narrow at you and he takes one menacing step forward, his hand raising to strike you but you bring up your arms to block the slap, whimpering in pain when the hit lands and your phone clatters out of your hand. “You insolent child!” Your eyes squeeze shut and you hope Seonghwa gets there soon.
-
Seonghwa has never driven so fast in his life. He’s racing through the lights and he counts his lucky stars that they’re all green and that the police aren’t around right now. He can hear arguing coming from his phone and he’s calm enough knowing you’re at least still on the phone. But then he hears a noise and what he assumes to be your phone falling on the ground. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. “Please, please be okay, (Y/N).”
Stepping on the gas, he roars around the corner to the club you mentioned, praying you’re still there. As he gets out, he’s looking around but can’t seem to find you. “(Y/N)?” he calls out. “Where are you?”
He races down the street to find you pinned against the wall, your hands attempting to push an old geezer away and he sees red. He marches right up, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from your shaking figure. “Fuck off,” he growls in his face, delighting in the fear that moves across his face. “Don’t let me catch you near this place again. Now fuck off!”
He practically throws the old man to his knees before turning and cupping your face. “Seonghwa,” you practically sob. He can still see the drunken haze in your eyes but it’s almost completely cleared up now and his brow furrows even more.
“Come on, I’m taking you home.” He pulls you along and you do your best to keep up with him in your inebriated state. “I can’t believe you would do this! Have you no sense of security? Why didn’t you get anyone to come with you? Why would you call a taxi outside of the establishment?”
He still opens the car door for you and you slide immediately in, eyes staring wide at the pristine dashboard. He slides in and puts the car in the ignition before sitting back and groaning in frustration. “I hope you’re ready to talk as soon as we get inside,” he gripes. “I still am so shocked, (Y/N). You act so mature about Jihee, but what happened then? You could’ve been hurt…no, you were hurt!”
He continues his rant driving up to your street, ushering you into the elevator and into your place. “Do you know how my heart dropped when I saw you struggling? I don’t want to see you hurt. You need to take care of yourself.”
As he yells at you, his eyes rake over you to see if you’re injured any further, but something else stops him and the words die in his throat. You’re wearing a sheer shirt, your lacy bra underneath just showing off your chest. Your leather skirt has ridden up your thighs and your eyes fill with unshed tears. And something burns in his brain.
It’s been months since he hired you, and with each passing day, he finds himself more and more attracted to you. He berated himself every time these unwanted thoughts popped into his head. Sure, you’re sweet, good with kids, and are passionate about what you care about. But you’re also so young. You can do so much better than him, a single father with no prospects.
But seeing you like this, heat sparks in his gut and he leans in, his face mere inches away from yours. “When you wear things like that, it makes me want to rip them off you and do things even that creep couldn’t even imagine,” his low voice pierces through your thoughts and your mouth gapes open.
“I’m okay with that,” you whisper, hand reaching out to brush against his chest, but Seonghwa blinks as he realises what he just tried to do, and he jerks back. Your eyes flash with hurt and Seonghwa would like to hit himself for doing that to you but he can’t let you come onto him when you’re still drunk.
“I– I’m sorry,” you whisper, your hands reaching behind you to steady yourself on the wall. “I just felt so lonely. I wanted to be wanted.” 
Seonghwa’s breath stutters as he stares down into your wavering eyes. “I–” He wants you so bad. But he can’t bring himself to say it. Not when you’re drunk. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”
He turns away and hears your disappointed sigh alongside your footsteps trudging to your bedroom. With a groan, he sits on the couch with his head in his hands. He wants to reassure you, but he can’t help but feel guilty about it. But he’s still straining in his pants and after locating your bathroom, he sits on the shower bench, leaning against the cool tile and breathing in and out. With a groan, he unzips his pants and pulls out his half-hard cock. The feeling of regret rises but he pushes it down to his gut as he spits in his hand and presses his thumb against the head of his dick.
As he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it, he can’t help but close his eyes and imagine you. You with your mouth wrapped around his cock, with your hands gripping his thighs. You seated on his throbbing member, grinding your hips against him as you lean down to kiss him. He can feel his dick jump and he wonders what it’ll feel like to fill you with his cum.
He lets out a broken moan as his grip turns tighter. His image of you would scratch your nails down his back. He can almost hear your little whines and breathy moans as your hips work over him. You’d lean in and whisper into his mouth, “Seonghwa, fuck me hard,” and—
Seonghwa sighs as he looks down at his cum-coated hand and the mix of shame and relief swirling around his brain. Maybe he should just go to sleep on the couch and hope he doesn’t dream of you. As he washes his hand and goes to lie down, he can already feel a stress headache coming on. He hopes you’ll at least fare better in the morning.
-
When you awaken, you have a throbbing pain in your head and you groan and roll out of bed. You’ve taken your club shirt off as well as your skirt, but your bra and underpants are still on. You’re sure your makeup is smudged too and you have no clue how you got home but all you want is some coffee and oatmeal.
You trudge to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes from sleep. There’s a blanket fallen on the floor so you toss it onto the couch and head straight into the kitchen to start your coffee maker. As you lean against the counter and yawn.
“(Y/N), are you feeling better?”
A voice calls out from behind you and you shriek, whirling around to see a sleepy Seonghwa, blanket wrapped around him and his hair a mess. You shriek again, realising how little you’re clothed and duck behind the counter, your cheeks flaming and your heart beating faster than you ever thought it could.
“What are you doing here?” you force out, your voice tight.
“Do…do you not remember last night at all?” You do remember most of what happened. He took you home, but that’s about as far as you remember. And you’re not sure you want to know the rest of it. But you’re far too embarrassed to admit, so you put your acting skills to use. You’re not sure you can handle the shame of a real conversation.
“What?” you ask, forcing your voice to pitch higher as you slowly stand back up, hands covering your chest. “I didn’t– Oh my God, I’m so sorry if I came onto you. I was drunk, I must’ve been out of my mind. Please accept my deepest apologies.”
You notice Seonghwa’s eyes trail down to your chest and then snap back up to your face as if he’s forcing himself to and he chokes out a breath. Despite the headache, your mouth twitches. Maybe you’re still a little out of it. “No, nothing like that. I fetched you from the club because you called me to save you from a creep. Then I took you home and we slept.”
You sigh. “I’m glad. I do apologise for whatever my behaviour was. It was out of line and it won’t happen again. I understand if you want to let me go–”
“No!” Seonghwa’s outburst surprises you and your eyes widen. The lack of clothes you’re wearing has been long forgotten and you move around the counter to stand in front of him. Seonghwa has the decency to look a little embarrassed at the volume of his voice. “Sorry. I just…it’s like you’re a part of our family already. I care for you just as much as I care for Jihee.”
Ah. He thinks of you like a child. Your suspicions were right. You turn slightly to face away from him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “I see. Well, I appreciate that. It’s nice to have a second family,” you chuckle, internally beating yourself up. How could you even entertain the thought of the two of you being together? “Let me change, and I’ll walk you out.”
As you return to your room, you finally let your heart sink as tears brim in your eyes. You hastily wipe them away as you rummage in the pile of clothes on your bed for something fairly appropriate to wear. First, you make a fool of yourself in front of Seonghwa, and then your crush is unfounded. You can’t seem to catch a break.
With a sigh, you pull on some shorts and a large shirt before heading back out. “Hey, (Y/N), could we talk first?” Seonghwa asks, still standing in between the kitchen and the living room as his eyes flit around nervously.
After some hesitation, you finally find your voice. “Sure? What’s up? You can sit on the couch if you want.”
Seonghwa takes a seat, hiking up his sweatpants and you move to the floor across the little coffee table. “Last night…you told me something.” Oh no. This is it. You bite your lower lip and look down, awaiting his next words. “Uh. So. You think you came onto me, right? Well. It was. Uh. It may have been me.”
You blink at him foolishly as your brain tries to wrap itself around your head. “You what?”
Seonghwa raises his hands and lowers his head ashamedly. “Let me explain, please. I saw you outside with that horrid excuse of a human and something in me snapped. I just wanted to protect you and I brought you home. But seeing you in that outfit? It just made me want you. And I told you. And you reciprocated. At least, you tried to.” He chuckles a little to himself, bringing up his hand to grip at his hair. “I told you we would talk in the morning. But one thing you said stuck with me. You wanted to be wanted. And all night I’ve been thinking about it. (Y/N), you were drunk. But you weren’t that drunk. Something you said had truth to it. Please. For my own sanity, tell me how you feel about me. Please.”
His voice cracks at the last syllable and something in your heart hurts at the sound. “Seonghwa I…I do care for you. More than I should. You’ve shown me unbendable compassion and you’ve never taken my words or myself for granted…or treated me like a child. Against my better judgment, I’ve fallen for you.” You sigh, tightening your fists. “I’ve been hating myself for the better part of six months because of it. You were so much better than me. In job, in maturity. What was I supposed to do? I went to the club to forget you, but it appears that didn’t work.”
Seonghwa stands quickly, shuffling over to kneel in front of you. “How could you think such a thing? Me better than you? Don’t make me laugh. I may be older than you, and yes, I have a better-paying job. But in the end, how could you compare? You’re amazing with Jihee. You’ve managed to teach her in ways I could hardly hope to imagine. And just because I have a higher wage doesn’t mean your job is less important. I wasn’t lying when I said it felt like you were already part of the family.”
“You told me you thought of me like Jihee,” you argue, and Seonghwa laughs, leaning forward to take your hands.
“I said I care for you as much as I care for Jihee. Not in the same way, (Y/N).” Seonghwa smiles kindly. “I know if this does happen we’ll need to put a lot of care into this, but if you’ll have me, I’d like to be with you.”
You’re not sure whether this is a dream or not, staring up at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You’d be a fool if you said no, but the worries in your head won’t seem to cease. Taking a deep breath, you push them aside and smile up at him. “I’ll have you, Seonghwa.”
As soon as the words fall out of your mouth you can see Seonghwa’s eyes crinkle as he smiles and leans in, his nose almost touching yours. “May I kiss you?” he murmurs in his deep voice, and instead of gracing him with a reply, you meet him in a soft kiss.
His large hands cup your face as he deepens the kiss, and his thumbs brush against your cheekbones. “You’re so pretty,” he hums, pressing a multitude of pecks to your lips. “Last night I was so conflicted. Seeing you like that made me almost go insane.”
An idea sparks in your brain, and a smile widens on your face. Your fingers crawl up his shoulders to rest your arms on them. “How insane?” you ask, and Seonghwa’s eyes darken.
“I’ll show you,” he grows before capturing your lips with his once again. This time his arms shift to wrap around your waist and he pulls you closer until you’re practically pressed against his body. You squeak at the sudden movement but it’s swallowed by the kiss.
He pulls you onto his lap and you can feel the growing hardness in his slacks. You wriggle your hips a little, grinding down, and the moan that Seonghwa lets out is heaven to your ears. “Fuck, (Y/N). You’re so pretty,” he repeats, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the sensitive skin.
You whine at the pain blooming into pleasure and your hands fist into his hair. Your precious sounds get to Seonghwa and he groans, moving your legs to wrap around his waist and he hoists you up and brings you over to the couch. “Your noises are so pretty, baby,” Seonghwa groans into your mouth. “Can’t wait to hear them when you’re wrapped around my cock.”
“Please–” is all you can muster out and your whines only serve to make Seonghwa’s cock harder in his pants.
With a groan, he pats your ass, motioning for you to move up. As soon as your hips lift, he grabs the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your knees, leaving your underwear and shirt on. In the same motion, he shoves his slacks and boxers down just far enough to let his cock spring free.
“Seonghwa–”  you whine and something in Seonghwa’s stomach burns at the idea of you crying on his throbbing dick. He sits back, guiding you to sit right above his cock as he moves it to rub against your soaked underwear. Every time the angry-red tip of it brushes against your clit you let out breathy moans and it only serves to make Seonghwa impossibly harder.
“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” Seonghwa breathes, his free hand coming up to brush against your face. A smile blooms on your face as you bend to kiss him again.
“Then don’t.”
Something flips in Seonghwa’s brain and he lifts you, pushes your underwear to the side, and lets his cock press into you slowly. The both of you throw your head back and groan loudly at the feeling of him slowly filling you up. He’s not the biggest you’ve had but that doesn’t matter as the sting of the stretch is enough to make you drool. You can hardly speak as you whine nonsense into his ear and let your head drop to the crook of his neck.
“You fit around me so well,” Seonghwa praises, his head spinning at the feeling of finally fucking you the way he dreamed of. It was only yesterday he was fucking into his hand at the thought of you and here he is, only a few hours later, his painfully hard member inside of you. “Look at you, a mess for me. Bet you’ve never been with an older man before. Do I make you feel good, baby?”
You clench at his words. “Fuck, yes, the best I’ve had,” you babble, squirming at the already overwhelming feeling. “You’re so good to me.”
Seonghwa laughs delightedly at how gone you seem to be not five minutes in. “So precious, especially for me, (Y/N). Sitting on my dick so prettily.” He gives a little experimental thrust upwards and you gasp. The noises you make are so addictive, he can’t help but do it again. And again.
You’re panting, moaning as he fills you up so deliciously and your hands grip at his now-wrinkled dress shirt. His cool hands slide up your baggy shirt to shove up your bra and cup your boobs. The weight of them sitting in his hands makes him groan as he leans in to mouth at them through your shirt.
“Been dreaming about these tits since last night. Jerked off in the bathroom after seeing you, you know?” Your eyes widen at the admission and Seonghwa smirks at how embarrassed you look. “Wanted you so bad and you thought I wouldn’t like you in that way? You’re so cute, (Y/N).” He punctuates each word with one thrust after another.
The feeling of his dick pumping into you as well as Seonghwa’s teeth scraping against the soft flesh of your tits makes you so overwhelmed. It’s almost embarrassing how close you are already, and Seonghwa knows it, chucking up at you from between your chest. “Aw, baby, you’re so far gone. Am I that good?”
You cry out and sink your teeth into the junction of his shoulder and neck. You’re trying so hard to keep your noises down but Seonghwa isn’t having any of that. His hand finds its way to your hair, gently tugging on it until your head falls back, exposing the column of your neck.
As his warm breath ghosts over it, you stiffen, and when he moves up from your chest to lick a stripe up it and nip at your earlobe, you come with a groan. Your hips are shaking from the intensity of it but his thrusts don’t stop and soon you’re whining from the overstimulation.
And he still hasn’t come.
“Fuck, Seonghwa, it’s so much,” you groan, mouth hanging open. Seonghwa greedily swoops in to capture your lips once more, licking into your mouth as his thrusts become more and more erratic.
His dick twitches and he groans. “Where do you want me? I’m clean,” Seonghwa mumbles into your mouth.
You shift your hips a little. “I’m clean too and on the pill, so it’s on you. I don’t care, I just want you, Hwa.”
Your words spark something in Seonghwa and he thrusts upwards, once, and his cum starts filling you. It’s searingly hot, settling deep in your gut and you throw your head back and moan so goddamn loud. His throbbing cock is twitching like crazy and it’s still pumping cum into you. Seonghwa’s hand slides down your body to tweak at your nipples, thumb over your flesh, and finally come to rub little circles into your clit.
You gasp and it feels like you’re touching heaven from the extra stimulation. “Gonna fill you up so well,” Seonghwa groans. “Do you think Jihee would like a sibling?” 
Your thoughts all blur together at his sentence and you come again with a groan. Your cunt squeezes around him so deliciously and a sob breaks its way out of your throat, one that Seonghwa eagerly swallows as he kisses you again.
His thrusts start to slow down and you slowly pull off his now-softening dick and settle back down on his lap. His hands push his leaking cum back into your pulsating pussy and you sigh at the feeling.
“Well, that was quite the escalation,” Seonghwa laughs quietly as he pulls both your and his pants back up and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. His hand pats your butt and you squirm and slap his chest softly.
“You’re lucky I’m on the pill.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly and Seonghwa hums, capturing your lips in his yet again. He can’t get enough of your plush lips and you’re not complaining at all.
“I’m lucky to have you, period,” he sighs happily. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
You smile and sit up, ignoring the whines that come out of Seonghwa’s mouth at the lack of contact. “Well, I couldn’t let you be a lonely old man,” you tease and Seonghwa smacks your ass again.
“Can old man do what I just did?” You’re suddenly lying on your back with Seonghwa hovering over you, a crooked smile growing on his face. “Or do you need another demonstration?”
You smile and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer. “I don’t know, sir, maybe you should show me once more.”
With a nip to your lips, Seonghwa leans in and your eyes crinkle at the promise of what’s to come.
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k-hotchoisan · 8 months
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from the back
<Wooyoung x fem!reader>
part two of 🔥to the side🔥
where Wooyoung finally gets to fuck you so good
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs
Genre/Warnings: pervDILF!Wooyoung, smut, sexual tension, backshots, dirty talk, cream pies, orgasms, alcohol consumption, Wooyoung drinks but he keeps it within the limit because he’s driving y/n home (please do not drink and drive)
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Needless to say, you were holding up pretty well, despite the countless times you squeezed your thighs when Wooyoung’s hands slid too close to your cunt. It was still driving you crazy from how full you felt. Your plate was half cleared, because half of the time the feeling of how full your cunt is with Wooyoung’s cum made you want to just spread your legs and let his cum leak all over out of your pussy and onto your thighs and chair. Maybe you’d beg Wooyoung for forgiveness for letting his cum spill out of your poor pussy, and let Wooyoung breed you so full, over and over again until he was satisfied.
Fuck. It was driving you nuts. Alcohol was served during the dinner, and even without it, you felt your face flush.
Your thighs are still tightly pressed against each other from the feeling of his cum just ready to pour out of you if you made any sudden movements. It doesn’t help that Wooyoung has his eyes on you—watching you like a hawk. He’s good at keep his face neutral and poker, almost perfectly nonchalant as he takes a sip of water. You stand up, feeling your thighs shake slightly. Screw this. You decide to go to the kitchen for a breather. It’s the only reasonable place to escape to for now. Not mention, it was big as fuck anyway, no one would know if you hid in the balcony for a breath of fresh air.
Wooyoung casts you a side glance, deeply and sickeningly satisfied that you’re squirming because of him. But in all honesty, he plays the facade very well, because he knows, given any moment if he were to be stuck with you alone, god knows what the fuck he would do to you.
And when you’re missing for a few long minutes it’s when he decides to take the gamble. Nonetheless he was quite concerned that you’ve been missing in the kitchen for a while. Even your friend noticed.
“Where’s y/n?” She asks, swirling the wine glass in her hand, casting glances around the table when she finally realises that you’re missing.
Her brother is about to stand but Wooyoung is quick. He cuts his nephew off, taking his niece’s words cue to go off and find you. “I’ll go get her”, Wooyoung says coolly.
He plasters a smile at his nephew as he gently pushes him down back to his seat. “Enjoy the dinner. Your plate still looks pretty full.”
You hear footsteps approaching behind and your back immediately straightens, well, barely because you’re still feeling all over the place right now. You expect it to be your friend, but when you turn and your eyes land on Wooyoung with his loose polo shirt, a hand in his trousers and the other holding his wine glass. The sight is just making your face heat up even more.
“Are you doing okay?” He asks, joining you at the kitchen balcony. You can’t meet his eyes. You think you’d just combust if you did.
“Barely”, you reply, biting back another moan when you feel his cum about to seep past your folds again. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Wooyoung.
Wooyoung is insanely horny but he isn’t stupid. At least, not yet, he thinks. He would gladly take you right here and then, but he knows he’d enjoy it even more if he had you confined within his walls instead of here. He’s also not in the mood to ruin a happy occasion and a family relationship. At least, not yet.
“A little longer, darling”, he says, almost in a whisper. “Good girls get rewards.”
“Stop teasing me”, you pout, giving him a light slap on his shoulder. Wooyoung only laughs.
You glance at the glass he has in his hands. “Aren’t you driving? You shouldn’t drink too much.”
Wooyoung lifts the glass in his hand higher and tilts his head. “It’s my first glass for the night, and I’m not planning to down another.” He takes a step dangerously close to you. “Wouldn’t want to miss my plans with you later too. We’ll leave when I squeeze your thigh.”
Red flushes on your cheeks again, and you break eye contact, only for Wooyoung to shift your glance right back at him with a single flick of his wrist on your jaw.
“Uncle, what are you doing?” The voice snaps the trance the both of you were in. Your eyes dart to the intruder, who stands with crossed arms, staring daggers at the both of you.
Wooyoung doesn’t falter. He shoots his nephew a glance and slowly releases his fingers from your jaw and smiles curtly at his nephew.
“Just making sure she doesn’t throw up”, he replies, knowing that your eyes are widened and glaring daggers at Wooyoung. He turns back to you, amused by your expression before he messed your hair with his hands. “Let’s go”, he gestures to the both of you. He doesn’t miss his nephew furrowing his eyebrows, so he plays it off by messing his hair up to, and your friend’s brother running off after his uncle, berating him about messing his hair that he took hours to style. You release an exhale. You’re in the clear, at least for now.
It’s not evident to the rest of the dinner table except you, that Wooyoung is getting irritated by the way your friend’s brother keeps trying to get your attention, and that only makes you friend satisfied, as she only eggs him on to openly flirt with you.
Throughout the dinner, Wooyoung keeps topping up the other male’s wine, and he observes the way his nephew progressively gets more tipsy, encouraging him to have more since he was back in the country.
Midway through the conversations, you feel a gentle squeeze on your thigh. You glance over at Wooyoung who’s laughing at something his brother is saying. His hand trails higher up your thigh.
“I think I’ll take my leave now”, you say, slowly standing up. “Thank you for the dinner.” You walk over to your friend who gives you a tight hug.
“How are you going home? By cab? I’d ask my brother to send you home but Uncle Wooyoung made him drink quite a bit.”
Before you answer, Wooyoung cuts in, “I can send her back safely.”
Your friend’s father raises an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to stay a little longer?”
Wooyoung shakes his head with a smile. He goes over and gives his niece a hug before he hand hovers over the small of your back, as he leads you out of the estate.
The car ride back felt agonisingly slow. The anticipation was just surging through your veins, and evidently leaked into the atmosphere in the car with Wooyoung. Wooyoung still keeps his soft and light tone when he talks to you in the car, but it’s obvious he’s at his limit, especially from the way he’s gripping the steering wheel with force.
The moment you step in his penthouse, his fingers intertwine with yours, and your jaw drops at how fucking huge his place is for a singular person to reside in. His hand is warm against yours and you wonder what he’s thinking.
He leads you to his bedroom, and when the door shuts, Wooyoung immediately has you pressed against the shut door, trapping you with his body as he tilts your chin to face him.
“Fucking hell. I think I’ve waited long enough”, he hisses before he dives in for a messy kiss. You let yourself be claimed by him, raising your arms to let Wooyoung pull your clothing off your body, letting him admire at your bare chest. You feel like you’re at your limit from the way Wooyoung is teasing you—his hands tugging your pants off, but he doesn’t touch you there just yet. But he leads you over to his bed, letting you fall onto his plush bed.
“Look at your panties. Ruined by yours truly,” Wooyoung hums, tugging the piece of pink clothing, completely stained dark with cum and fluids, now almost transparent. When your panties are finally removed, a drawn out whine echoes around the room, your head throws back, and Wooyoung watches in breathlessly as his cum leaks out of you, load by load, listening to you moan in relief.
“I’ve been good. Kept your cum in my pussy like a good girl”, you whine, tugging against your wet folds, thighs twitching as Wooyoung’s cum continues to spill out of your hole. Wooyoung plunges two fingers into you, pushing his cum back into your pussy, and it makes you flex your abdomen from the pleasure.
He smiles.
“Indeed you have, darling. So well-behaved”, he hums, as his hand brushes against your cheek, swallowing hard when you lean your face into it, staring at him with kitten eyes.
He’s so fucking weak for that. So he pushes his fingers deeper in you, drinking every single fucked out expression you wear. Oh god, he wants to break you so bad. Wooyoung’s fingers press against your g-spot, and your hands clasp onto his veiny, muscled arm, as you jerk with a gasp. Wooyoung tilts his head back slightly, and he wears a smirk when he feels you clench around his fingers.
Then he curls his fingers in you as he finger fucks you, making sure he draws out every dirty moan out of you.
“Wooyoung! Oh fuck. Right there”, your hands slip off his arm, back now completely on his bed letting yourself succumb to the pleasure.
“I know, baby. Feels good doesn’t it?” Wooyoung coos, watching your body jerk from the pleasure. “Look at you, fucking yourself on my fingers too”, he teases. And he’s right—you don’t realise when you even let your hips snap against his wet fingers, but at this point, shame is the last thing you’re worrying about.
The feeling builds so dangerously quick that soon enough, you completely let go, letting your jaw hang open as your orgasm hits, your cunt fluttering and your mind flooded with dopamine as moans leak out of your mouth freely like your cum.
“That’s it”, he encourages, applying light pressure on your clit with his thumb, feeling you convulse around him. “Good girl. Cum on my fingers like that. Dirty them for me just like that.” Your eyes are shut, your mind completely turned into mush.
Wooyoung pulls his fingers out of you slowly, watching the way your eyes slowly open as you catch your breath. At that moment is when you catch the way Wooyoung is eyeing you down, licking your glistening release from his fingers.
“Fuck me, darling. If I had known you tasted this good, I would have stolen the panties you keep in your little friend’s room when I came over for dinners”, Wooyoung sighs.
“Pervert”, you mutter, although the thought of him rubbing his cock onto the fabric, making it as wet and as dirty as possible, and leaving his cum stains all over your pretty little panties makes your cunt flutter.
“No better than you are, darling”, he shoots you back playfully when he watches your cheeks turn red, as he inches closer to you onto his bed, capturing your lips with his.
And you completely surrender to him, melting into the kiss that tasted more than just desire and lust. Wooyoung’s hands slide to the back of your neck to pull you as physically close to him as possible.
You pull back, breathless a few seconds later, a small prick blooming in your heart as the reminder that this man is your friend’s uncle sticking out like sore thumb at the back of your hand. You knew it was wrong to do this to your friend. What would happen if she found out then? What kind of repercussions would there be? Wooyoung senses the slight shift, and has his hands cup your cheek, and your eyes focus on his handsome face again.
“What are you distracted about, darling?” He asks, concern reflected in his expression. “Do you want to stop?”
You shake your head instinctively. “It’s just.…”
“-that I’m your friend’s relative?”
You bite your lip.
“But we’re both consenting adults, aren’t we? I can’t help it if every time I see you, I just want to make sure that you’re only looking at me.”
Oh gods, he was making your head spin.
“It’s just that it’s making me have a lot of thoughts”, you mutter, your hands toying with the bedsheets. Wooyoung plants a firm kiss behind your ear, before he leans into you and whispers, “then I’ll fuck the thoughts right out of you darling”, Wooyoung assures with smile, then he turns you over, now your stomach on the mattress. You hear him unbuckle his trousers, and your heart beats in your ears.
“I’ll take good care of you. I can definitely promise that”, he assures, letting his hands run down your sides, leaving goosebumps across your skin. He gives the nape of your neck a kiss before you feel his very hard erection pressing against the curve of your ass. You can’t see it but his cock is just wet with precum, but you hear the sounds he makes as he strokes himself before he presses his cockhead at your entrance.
Then he slides his cock in, inch by inch, so fucking good that you’re gasping and drooling. His cock fits in you so well, and even though he fucked you just hours before, he feels so different now.
“You’re so fucking thick. Fuck”, you curse, your eyebrows scrunched. Wooyoung chuckles behind you, trying to hold his composure as he watches your pussy stretch perfectly to accommodate him, as he sinks deeper into you. It doesn’t take long till he’s completely in you, and you’re drawing shallow breaths from how full you feel, his cock just resting in you.
“Gonna move now, darling”, he says, giving your ass a soft squeeze before he pulls back and thrusts in again, and a squeal leaves your lips. He’s definitely fucking every single thought out of you tonight, and you weren’t about to complain.
Every time his hips slam into you, you grow slightly light headed from the pleasure. Wooyoung has his hands grabbing your hips as he fucks you into the mattress, groaning himself as he watches you fuck his cock. “Fuck. You’re so fucking perfect, baby”, he groans, watching you swallow his cock in once more.
“So good. Keep fucking me like that, Wooyoungie”, you cry, feeling his cock grow bigger in you.
“That’s a cute nickname you’re giving me”, he smirks, biting back another moan when he feels you clench around him again. “I swear you’re gonna make me cum at this rate with how cute you’re acting.”
“Then do it. You promised me right?” You pout, and then jerk with your eyes rolled back when his cockhead presses onto your g-spot again. Wooyoung swears you could drive him insane just with the shit you say.
His cock twitches in you and another soft moan escapes from you.
“I’m cumming, baby. Fuck”, Wooyoung curses as he forcefully shuts his eyes, white spots splattering beneath his eyelids and cum filling you up again. You whimper softly as he fills you up, fisting the bedsheets beneath you as your body shakes. You could get addicted to this, you swear.
You almost lose feeling in your lower body, but Wooyoung catches you, littering your neck with more kisses once more before he sits you on his lap.
That’s when you realise—he’s still fucking hard. His cock is still covered in a sheer white layer of cum. His hands slide up and down your thighs, giving them squeezes.
“Sit on my dick, baby. You know you want to”, he coaxes, assisting you in lifting your hips over his cock. You’re completely entranced by Wooyoung’s expression and you slowly sink onto his cock—he looks as fucked out as you are, and so fucking beautiful. He sucks his teeth at the sensation of being deeper into your warm, cum-filled pussy.
“One more load to go, baby”, Wooyoung hums as he cups your breasts, giving them circular licks with his tongue, making your cunt leak another layer of fresh slick once more. Your arms wrap around his neck, tugging against his hair as he licks and sucks your nipples.
“Wooyoung, please-“ you cry out, only to be ignored as he switches to the other nipple, making sure he stimulates you to his liking. He finally pulls back, licking his lips. His eyes are glazed out, fucking horny from the feeling that he’s seated inside you, sensitive and overstimulated.
And when you start bouncing on his cock, his jaw slacks, his fingers finding yours to intertwine with. “So fucking good. You’re so warm baby. Oh my fucking god”, he groans, squeezing your hand. This position granted easier access to your g-spot and Wooyoung watches you wordlessly as you chase the feeling of his cockhead hitting that perfect spot over and over again.
“Gonna cum. Your cock feels so good, Wooyoungie,” you whimper, at one point pushing your hips down and slightly grinding to have his cockhead just rub against your g-spot, which evidently drives Wooyoung up the wall when he throws his head back and lifts his hips by instinct.
When he barely gains an ounce of rationale, he moans, “cum all over my cock, baby. Oh fuck. Such a good fucking girl you are for me.” And you do, clamping against his cock as your orgasm hits you for the second time, with Wooyoung holding your thighs down, watching you squirm and twitch as your orgasm sends you into a fucking orbit. Wooyoung can’t help but cum in you once more when the feeling of your pussy fluttering around him, which causes you to squeal and lift yourself off his cock, cum and fluids just trickling out of your abused hole and onto Wooyoung’s cock.
You don’t have time to react before Wooyoung cups you by your jaw and brings you in for a steamy kiss again, his hand snaking around your ass to give it a good squeeze before he lets go.
His eyes are as blown out as yours are, but he still manages to ask, “you doing good, darling?”
You nod, combing his wet bangs back, the both of you catching your breaths from your high.
“Time for a shower, baby”, Wooyoung says, lifting you off him completely, before he takes your hand in his to lead you to the bathroom.
Wooyoung’s arms are curled around your waist and he buries his nose into your neck, breathing deeply at the fact that you smell like his shampoo. It almost makes him horny again. Almost.
The thought of your friend and her brother pops into your brain again, but gets muddled when you hear Wooyoung groan softly before he gets pulled into slumber.
Well, that’ll be a problem for another day when Wooyoung comes around to your friend’s house. But you make a mental note to keep more pretty panties over for Wooyoung to steal the next round.
1K notes · View notes
javiscigarette · 1 year
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Bad Fun
Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Jealous Joel takes you in the bar bathroom. (Inspired by the like five jealous Joel requests that have been sitting pretty in my inbox for weeks).
Warnings: smut, established relationship, (semi) public sex, slapping, degradation, hair pulling, pretty rough (consensual!) sex, possessive Joel <3, heavy on the dirty talk and daddy kink no use of y/n
w/c: 3.4k
A/N: Answered a request? How very unlike me. Idk why but you guys were thirsty for jealous Joel but I am not complaining! Also two fics in a week? who am I turning into?
my masterlist
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You can feel his eyes on you, even with your back turned to him. And you can see the way the men look over your shoulder, casting anxious glances at the man who’s now giving them an icy glare. 
“Well, if you ask me, I’d say you’re far too young and pretty to be hanging around with a man like that” one of them says as he casually places a hand on your midback. 
You raise an eyebrow at him, but you don’t say anything about his hand on you. 
“A man like what?” you ask innocently.
Almost everyone in Jackson knew about you and Joel. The two of you were practically glued at the hip, if there was one of you, then the other wasn’t far away. Joel usually had a protective arm draped your shoulders, keeping you safely tucked away under his arm. Or a hand tucked in the back pocket of your jeans as you walk the streets of Jackson together, giggling at some inside joke like you were the only two people in the world.  
And most men knew that you were off limits. Most of them were smart enough not to test Joel like that, fully aware of the repercussions that come with going after his girl. But these younger men, the one’s around your age, were still ballsy enough to push the boundaries. 
The man laughs, his hand slowly sliding further down your back. 
“He’s just a bit old for you, isn’t he? He’s like 50, isn’t he?”  
You bite your lip to hold back a laugh. You glance over your shoulder at Joel where he’s seated at a table across the room with Tommy and a few other guys from patrol. He has his front turned to you as he leans back in chair, one hand wrapped around his glass of whiskey and the other resting casually on his crotch. His eyes are dark as he watches you carefully and a small but dangerous smirk is tugging at the corner of his mouth. 
“More years of experience” you quip, turning back around and taking a sip from the cocktail that one of them bought for you. 
The boys laugh, and the hand on your back slides down even lower until he’s inches away from your ass. You allow it, fully aware that Joel is still watching you.  
“Maybe” he says, stepping closer towards you and closing the space “But I bet I could last longer than him.” 
You supress another laugh as images of Joel fucking you into the mattress for hours flashing through your head. If only they knew. 
“Buy me another drink and maybe I’ll want to find out if you’re right” you say, looking at him through your lashes trying to feign innocence. 
The man smirks, entire too confident in his abilities to pull someone else’s girlfriend, much less Joel Miller’s girlfriend. You giggle as he rushes to turn around and find the bartender, flagging him down and pointing to your empty glass. 
These men are cute enough, boyish faces with a youthful sparkle in their eyes. Still, they’re obviously not you’re type and you’re far from being interested in slightest.
It’s not the flirting that fun, it’s what comes after. 
Joel watches you for a few more minutes, his skin growing hot with jealousy as he watches the man inch his hand further and further down your back. But he doesn’t intervene. If he didn’t know any better, those men would be on the floor before they even got the chance to touch you. 
But he’s not that naïve. He’s played this game with you before and he knows exactly what you want. 
He downs the rest of his whiskey and sets the glass on the table before standing up and heading towards the bathroom. He crosses your line of sight on the way but doesn’t make any effort to acknowledge you. 
He knows you’re watching. 
“I’ll be back, you boys have fun without me” you say quickly before finishing your drink and setting the empty glass on the bar. You don’t give them a chance to respond before you’re slipping away and heading towards the bathroom. 
Your entire body is vibrating with excitement as you practically run after Joel, heady desperation mixing with the alcohol in your veins. There’s only one bathroom and you only have to knock once before Joel swings the door open and yanks you inside. You giggle with excitement as he pushes you up against the door and clicks the lock in place. 
With one hand on your hip, he shoves a knee between your legs so that his thick thigh presses firmly against your core. 
“Such a fuckin’ slut” Joel growls. He brings his other hand up to grip your jaw, his fingertips digging in your cheeks and squeezing so hard that your mouth pops open.
“Can’t leave you alone for two goddamn seconds without you whorin’ yourself out.” 
The whiskey is heavy on his breath and his eyes are dark, his pupils blown from the liquor and lust making you clench around nothing, already hopelessly turned on. His grip on your both your hip and jaw are firm and unforgiving, serving as an indicator for what’s about to go down. You know that you probably shouldn’t push him more than you already have, but you can’t resist. 
“They were saying they could fuck me better.” 
Joel’s jaw tightens and his scowl deepens as he narrows his eyes at you. He’s still for a beat, and you bat your eyelashes at him innocently. Then within an instant, he manhandles you over to the sink, pinning your front against the fake marble countertop with his hips. You giggle again when you feel the bulge in his jeans pressing firmly against your ass as he holds you tight against him. 
He snakes an arm up the front of your body, his forearm resting heavy and warm between your breasts as he grips your jaw once again, forcing you to look straight ahead. Your gaze meets his in the mirror and a hot wave of arousal washes over you as he slips his other hand between your legs. 
“Jesus fuck” he groans quietly when he feels how wet you are.  
“I know what your little plan is, sweetheart” Joel murmurs as his fingers feather over your swollen, dripping seam. “Actin’ like a fuckin’ slut to get me to bend you over and make you stupid on my cock, right angel?”  
You just grin smugly and back up against him.  His eyes get even darker, and you can see the muscles in his jaw flexing subtly under his skin. 
You nod weakly and whine at his words, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine as try to grind down on his fingers, desperately chasing after any sort of friction. But Joel’s not having it. He moves his hand away from your jaw briefly so he can deliver a sharp smack to your cheek. It’s not hard enough to truly hurt, but it’s definitely enough to make your eyes snap open and your skin tingle for a few seconds. 
“Use your words” Joel hisses, his fingers curling around your jaw once again.  
“Yes, Joel.” 
Another quick slap. 
“And mind your fuckin’ manners.” 
You whine again before correcting yourself. 
“Yes, daddy” 
Joel groans and rolls his hips against your ass in approval. You whimper when his hand leaves your core, but you’re quickly rewarded when he slides his two fingers, damp with your slip past your lips. You suck on them happily, satisfied with something finally in your mouth. You languidly roll your tongue around them, licking off arousal and coating them liberally with your saliva. Joel watches you through the mirror and leans in until his mouth is inches away from your ear. 
“Look at that” he whispers, his warm breath fanning over your ear and jaw. “My dirty little girl, so desperate for her daddy.” 
Hi cock twitches against you as he watches your eyes roll back as drool starts to leak out of the corner of your mouth, a small drop sliding down your chin. He curses under his breath and slowly removes his fingers from your mouth. You whine at the loss, but the sound quickly melts into a loud, drawn-out moan when he shoves them inside of you. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, just starts pumping his two fingers in and out of you at a dizzying pace. He watches you in the mirror and forces you to watch too, his grip tightening on your face. 
“So fuckin’ wet for me already, angel” Joel groans. “Does actin’ like a goddamn whore turn you on, baby? S’that why your little pussy is already dripping all over my fingers?
“Daddy please” you pant, already embarrassingly close to release.
He just chuckles breathlessly as you squeeze around his fingers. Another loud moan tumbles past your lips when he adds a third finger. It burns in the best way, your sensitive walls stretching out around his thick fingers.
But he suddenly stills his fingers inside of you and the pleasure starts to quickly fade. You whimper and wiggle your hips, already missing the sensation. 
“Be a good slut and fuck yourself on daddy’s fingers.” 
You make a garbled sound in your throat and immediately start to grind your hips back. You try to position your body to get his fingers deep like they were before, but it’s no use. Only he knows how to get that perfect angle. With a frustrated huff and no other options, you double down on your efforts. You curl your fingers over the beveled edge of the fake marble countertop and push your hips back. 
The lewd squelching sounds of his fingers working your tight cunt open bounce off the walls of the small bathroom and into your ears, sending a wave of heat down your body. He groans next to your ear when you start squeezing his fingers so hard that you’re almost forcing them out. 
“Greedy fuckin’ slut” Joel whispers. “You gonna cum like this?” 
 He’s well aware that it’s not enough. But he loves to watch you try. 
“Can’t, Joel” you whine. You yelp when Joel pulls his fingers from you and delivers a sudden smack to your ass. 
“What’s my fuckin’ name?” Joel hisses, squeezing your jaw even tighter. You wouldn’t be surprised if you found bruises in the shape of his fingertips in the morning. 
“Daddy” you whine, high pitched and needy.
He grunts approvingly then suddenly removes his fingers. You whimper quietly at the loss and watch through the mirror moves to unbuckle his belt. He shoves his jeans down just enough to free his cock then bunches the hem of your dress around your waist. 
“Tell me something, baby” Joel sighs, using both hands to spread your cheeks and exposing your burning heat to the cool room of the air. “Do you think they could fuck you better than I can?”
“No, daddy” you reply without missing a beat. 
Joel hums but doesn’t say anything as he takes a half step forward, pressing his cock against your dripping seam. You moan softly at the sensation, the smooth, warm skin of his tip rubbing against your puffy clit. He starts to rock his hips, slowly dragging his cock back and forth through your folds, lubing himself up with your slick. 
“Are you this fuckin’ wet for them?” he rasps, his fingertips digging into your hips.
“No, daddy” you gasp. 
“Then who’s this pussy so needy for?” Joel taunts, the fat tip of his cock notching at your entrance. 
You clench around nothing and ty to push your hips back against him, but the sharp spank he lands on your ass stops you. 
“You daddy! Please daddy, only for you.” 
“That’s right, angel” Joel praises, bringing both hands to your hips. “You’re fuckin mine.”  
With that, he pushes inside and buries himself to your hilt in one fluid movement. Your knees buckle and your head falls forward, hanging between your shoulders, but the arm he wraps around your waist keeps you upright. He holds you tight in place and snaps his hips against your ass, knocking all the air out of your lungs and getting impossibly deep with each thrust. You try to bite back the loud moans but it’s a lost cause when he finds the angle where his tip kisses your cervix with every stroke. 
He starts pounding into you faster and removes his arm from your waist, his hand now trailing up your back instead. He fists his hand in your hair and pulls your head up and holds you there, forcing you to look ahead in the mirror. 
“You keep your eyes on me. Since you seem to have trouble rememberin’ who fuckin’ owns you” 
Your eyelids flutter, but you don’t dare close them. You stare at him through the mirror, eyebrows drawn together with your mouth hanging open, strained whines and moans slipping past your lips as he continues with his brutal pace. And he just smiles down at your almost cruelly. 
Joel laughs breathlessly from behind you when you let out a loud, broken moan and your cheeks heat up at the sound, knowing that there are people less than five feet away on the other side of the wall. It’s mortifying for you, but it only fuels Joel’s fire. 
 “M’not gonna cover your mouth, sweetheart” Joel grunts, tightening his grasp in your hair even more. “Want you to let everyone in this bar know who’s fuckin’ you this good” 
Your eyes roll into the back of your head and the sounds start to freely pour out of you. The way he’s pounding relentlessly right into your g-spot causes the heat swirling in your belly to start burning hotter. Your knees are starting to buckle and your fingers scramble on top of the countertop, searching for purchase on the smooth surface as you try to keep yourself upright. 
Joel isn’t any help. He just watches you carefully in the mirror as he slams into you so harshly that you’ll probably have light purple bruises on your hips from where you keep hitting the edge of the counter. And the way his cock starts pulsating inside of you when you start clenching around him drives you both crazy. 
Your whole body feels on fire now with tingles spreading from your lower abdomen and up your spine to the rest of your body. You know he won’t let you finish. You’ve gotten yourself in this exact situation more than enough times to know that. And you also know how annoyingly in tune he is with your body he is, noticing every single miniscule cue you display. 
So, you try to hide it. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to suppress your moans and you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down, but it’s no use when you start to shake.  Joel groans then lets out a dark chuckle from behind as you tremble and reflexively clamp down around him, letting you know that yeah, of course he fucking noticed. 
He leans forward while simultaneously pulling your back by your hair until his lips are brushing the shell of your ear and whispers “Bad girls don’t get to cum”  
He then pulls out and takes a step back fisting his cock. 
“Get on your knees” Joel commands before you even have the chance to whine at the sudden loss. 
You automatically sink to your knees, leaning heavily into the sense of submission that starts to cloud your brain. He looks down at you and smirks at the captivated look on your face as you watch him steadily stroke his cock. The thing is, you can pick up on his cues too, no matter how much he tries to hide behind the façade of his dominance. You can see it in the way his heaving chest starts to flush, the dark blush spreading up his neck and to his cheeks. His breaths get quicker, fand he has a harder time keeping the whines out of his moans. 
You look up at him from your spot on the floor with wet, glassy eyes and he curses under his breath at the sight. 
“Open your mouth, baby.”
You obey and part your wet lips. 
“Good girl” he groans, taking a step forward until he’s inches away from your face. “Daddy’s gonna cum in your mouth, babygirl. D’ya want that?” 
You nod vigorously and give him a small whimper for good measure.  
“Please, daddy” you whisper, sticking your tongue out.
 Joel curses again and his hand on his cock starts to move faster while his free hand moves to the back of your head. Your scalp is already sore from the grasp he had on it earlier so you’re relieved when he doesn’t pull, just gently tangles his fingers in your hair to hold your head in place. 
“Knew you would. You’re just a slut for daddy’s cum, aren’t you?” he teases breathlessly. 
“Please daddy!” you whine again, not at all ashamed of the desperation in your voice.  
Joel grunts and his wrist faulters again as he stares at your awaiting tongue. You wait as patiently as you can, subtly trying to squeeze your thighs together searching for any bit of friction you can get. 
“Fuck angel you look so good like this” he groans, his hips involuntary rolling up to meet his fist. “On your knees waiting for daddy to cum like a good fuckin’ slut.” 
You glow under his praise and start to say something, but Joel’s breathing starts getting heavier and his grunts and moans are getting louder and before you can say anything, he’s thrusting his hip forward to slide his tip past your lips. 
You instantly wrap your lips around him and he doesn’t push in any further, just keeps the tip in your warm, awaiting mouth, his cock pulsing as he unloads rope after rope of hot cum. You try your best to keep eye contact with him, but the feeling of his hot, salty release on your tongue has your eyelids fluttering as your head starts to go dizzy and floaty. 
You also try your best to keep his cum on your tongue, knowing that there was a reason that he didn’t push in all the way and fuck your throat. But it’s so much, it’s always so fucking much that you can’t stop some of it from sliding down your throat. 
“That’s my good girl, My go- ah fuck baby” Joel cuts himself off with a careless moan. You can feel your slick starting to leak out of you and down your thighs at the sound. 
“My good fuckin’ girl. All fuckin’ mine.” 
He hisses when you dip your tongue into his oversensitive slit and reluctantly pulls out of your mouth. You press your lips together, keeping your mouth closed and look up at him expectantly. He smiles down at you, his scowl gone and replaced by a lopsided, sated smile. 
Then he brings a thumb up to your bottom lip and tugs down softly and whispers “Show me.” 
You comply, opening your mouth and proudly showing him the small puddle of his cum on your tongue. 
“Now swallow, baby.” 
You do as your told, closing your mouth and swallowing, then opening again to show him. 
“Good girl” he praises gently. “So good for your daddy.” 
You beam up at him, absolutely melting under his praise. He removes his hand from your hair and reaches out to help you stand up again. He straightens out your dress, making sure to “accidentally” brush his fingers through the mess between your legs. 
“Now,” he starts, tugging the straps of your dress so that they sit evenly on your shoulders. “Go out there and talk to those boys again with the taste of my cum on your tongue.” 
Your skin heats up and you look at him with wide, silently pleading eyes. Those men were only feet away from the bathroom door. If they didn’t see you two go in together, they definitely heard you. 
And that’s exactly what Joel intended. So, he just gives you a devilish grin then pat your bum. 
“Go on, sweetheart. Be a good girl. For your daddy.”  
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3K notes · View notes
igotanidea · 2 months
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Stretching time: Dick Grayson x reader
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Request: I can't stop thinking about how would be Dick's girlfriend with all the batboys, specially Damian, maybe reader and Damian would be like best friends and he's always at Dick's apartment to see her. I would love to see how do you think this would be <3
***
“I swear this is like he doesn’t have a Manor to live in” Dick sighed theatrically, taking a sip of his drink, which happened to be the most colorful one on the menu.
“I suppose we are talking about Damian today?” Wally, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, casually popping chips into his mouth.
“He’s just always at our place! And Y/N—” Dick shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. Y/N. His wonderful, beautiful, smart girlfriend with a heart of gold, making friends wherever she went. Too good for his world, stubborn and consistent in breaking Damian’s defenses. And while at first, Dick even encouraged her in her attempts, treating it like a dare, knowing she’ll never succeed, now he was getting angry because she actually reached her objective. Becoming bffs with Damian Wayne. Well – as much as an assassin and a vigilante’s girlfriend can be.
“Please don’t tell me you are jealous of a 12 year old, Grayson!” Wally laughed so hard she choked on his snack.
“You crazy? Jealous? Me? Never!”
“Yeah, right. Never-” the speedster laughed again, silently calling Dick off on the bullshit he was trying to feed him with.
“Look man, it’s not like you have an entire family that steals your girlfriend away from you!”
“Well, I wouldn’t let them in the first place—”
“You’re not helping!”
“Would it help If I point out how much of a hypocrite you are, Dick?”
“No! Wait- what? A hypocrite?” Dick raised his head from the table where he previously laid it to accentuate the drama of the situation. And then frowned. And then tilted his head to the side. “Hypocrite, seriously, Wally?”
“You keep talking how Y/N has too soft heart while you are the proverbial older brother always trying to please his siblings-“
“That’s not true!” Dick’s objection was almost immediately cut by Wally’s mocking gaze, almost threatening to use all the examples of the thesis he had in store “Okay, fine! Fine! But those are my brothers, what am I supposed to do?!”
“For starters, maybe you shouldn’t run away to the bar every time Damian comes around?”
“But-“
“Get freaking involved! Your girlfriend is having a good relationship with your siblings. That’s terrible news, truly, I pity you.” Wally mocked, rolling his eyes.
“You just don’t seem to understand! Let me tell you the whole story again—”
“Oh, no, please, spare me going through it all over—”
“It all started a week ago-“
“From what I remember one week ago she went to some kind of reading with Jason?”
“Yes! And from then everyone just started to drive her away!”
“You’re overreacting-“
“Overreacting?! Do you want to listen how she keeps on working with Tim and –”
“NO!”
“Let me tell you then-“
“Whoa! Stop! You know what I think, Dick? I think you should go home and actually talk to her, instead of me.”
“So now you’re abandoning me too?!”
“Abandoning? Oh no, no, no. I’ll be even as kind as to drop you home.”
“What are you- NO!”
He really hated traveling with speedsters. There was never any comfortable position for that, and after he always felt like throwing up.
But there was no denying that it was the fastest way home, even if climbing up the stars turned into a little bit of a challenge for the Nightwing.
***
Obviously, Damian was there with her.
Not really doing anything, just sitting on the couch, staring into space, having one of his moments of vulnerability that took the form of keeping complete silence.
And that silence was not Dick’s ally cause it made them both hear him coming inside.
“I thought you were out with Wally?” Y/N smiled and raised from the spot to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
“West?” Damian turned his head in curiosity
“Well hello to you too, Damian. What brings you here today?” Dick hissed, before biting his tongue, earning a little pat on the back of the head from Y/N.”
“Ouch! That hurt. More my feelings than my head, but still.”
“Good. Dami is our guest and—”
“He’s becoming more of a permanent fixture…”
“Dick!”
“Ugh!”
“Should we take this conversation private?” she muttered, frowning and putting hands on her hips. “Or can you go back to being the Dick Grayson I know? The one who can keep his heart and mind open? Please?” She gave him a soft look and a pretty smile. “Come on, it will be fun…”
How could he say no to those eyes…
***
An hour later he started to think that maybe Wally was right. And that maybe his girlfriend was a sorceress.
Otherwise, how else could anyone explain the sudden Damian’s transition from an assassin into a 12 year old almost kid?
He was just talking to her about everything. His school, his friends, his latest picture. Not the emotions, it was not that advanced kind of magic, but just watching those two, feeling so at ease with each other was something supernatural.
And at some point, Damian just gave Y/N a look and she immediately knew what it meant, turning to Dick who was observing them both from a safe distance, amused by the little bubble Damian and Y/N seemed to create around themselves and a little scared to disrupt their peace.
“Hey, dick? Can you leave us for a moment? We got something to discuss with Damian.”
“And I have to go?”
Damian scoffed under his nose as if it wasn’t obvious that he wasn’t going to talk about anything personal with his brother around.  
“Pretty please?” Y/N smiled at her boyfriend, leaving Dick no choice but to retrieve to the bedroom.
“So, what’s been eating my favorite bat up?”
“Y/n…’ Damian sighed, allowing himself a little bit of emotionality “do you think I could ever have what you and Dick do?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, don’t push it.”
“If you are talking about girls—” she started and her words were disrupted by a hiss from the boy, who was clearly dissatisfied she actually dared to say it out loud “you’re only 12 Damian. And as much as you hate to let it show, people can tell that you care. In your own twisted way, but if someone watches close enough it’s clear. So I don’t think there’s any reason for you to get uptight about it.”
“I’m not uptight!” he crossed arms over his chest defensively.
“Look, I know your mother and Bruce may have showed you only one way to look at the world but –”
“You are not my parents to raise me, Y/L/N.”
“Thank god! I wouldn’t know how to handle you if you were my kid!” she laughed “But you know what, that’s even better. Cause you can freely twist my words and adjust whatever I say to your own perception. And I have no way to discipline or punish you.”
“So you won’t be leaving me if I don’t live up to the standard?” he asked quietly.
“What? Leaving you? No way!” If it was anyone else she would probably hug him then, but considering it was still Damian Wayne a little playful hair ruffle had to suffice. “Haven’t I told you you’re my favorite? Don’t tell Dick but – “ she made a dramatic pause and raised her voice to make sure her boyfriend heard “I THINK I LIKE YOU MORE THAN DICK!”
“I heard that!” something hit the wall separating bedroom and living room, causing both Damian and Y/N to chuckle.
“You make sure to remember it too, Grayson!”
“I hate you both!” Dick yelled from the wall, but it was obvious he was playing around, acting all goofy to make his girl and brother laugh.
And it seemed like a lot of weight was taken from Damian’s shoulders just because of hearing he wasn;t going to end up alone just because he wasn’t perfect sometimes.  
“I should probably get going. Father will –”
“Stay.” Y/N cut him off. “I’ll take care of Bruce. God forbid that man let you have a little rest.”
***
Damian fell asleep on the couch after two servings of ice cream and a multiple rounds of Man don’t get upset. At some point Dick joined them and the evening turned into one giant bonding exercise, interrupted by threats of murder with particular cruelty against Grayson if he ever let off steam about Damian's softer side.
But then, he was dozing off like a little lamb, looking completely harmless and innocent, while Y/N made sure to cover him with a blanket.
“Y/N, can’t you see what that little prick is doing?” Dick appeared behind her, out of nowhere, dragging her to the kitchen to have a little conversation.
“Planning world domination?” She tease with a hint of a smile.
“Yeah, that probably too.” Dick shook his head in amusement “but in this case, he’s taking all of your time and I have to live on scraps of attention.” He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I don’t like it…”
“I’m training you for the time when our kids appear in the world.”
“K-kids?” his gaze immediately traveled to her belly, judging whether she was being serious, going a little pale. Was he even ready for that? Why didn’t she tell him sooner, there were so many things to be planned and bought and—
“Hey, hey, relax” Her hands rested on his cheeks, forcing his eyes back on hers. “Not now. And not any time soon. But hopefully one day we will have kids. And then what? You’ll be jealous of them too?”
“This is not the same….”
“Maybe. But you can either learn how to share me or get mad and lose me. Which one would you rather?”
“Neither.” He held her tighter, pulling closer to his chest. “You’re all mine.”
“Still- gotta – breathe” the strained voice coming from her was enough proof he was squeezing her too tight. Like a rubber frog whose eyes pop if you press on the right spot.
Dick sighed and released the grip slightly, trying to say something more, but she didn’t let him.
“I can stretch my time for people that are important. And last time I checked, you were still on top of that list. It’s not going to change because I decided to become a mentor to your brother.”
“More like a psychologist.”
“Richard Grayson!”
“What?”
“You keep helping people left and right and it’s not like I have tons of your time either. So you are a hypocrite.”
“That's the second time today I’m being called that.”
“I always knew Wally was smarter than people gave him credit for.” She chuckled “now. It’s barely midnight, quite early for us, so would you like to spend some quality time together?”
“If that’s your attempt at stretching the time then yes,  I’d love it.”
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fadedin2u · 9 months
Text
big flirt!
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MDNI 18+
summary: your friends force you to go out to a gay bar with them, and ellie buys you a drink.
content/tw: alcohol mention, subtop!ellie, slightly dom/switch!reader, reader and ellie are both drunk, face sitting(r!receiving), tribbing, strap-on(r!recieving), reader is called “girl” once or twice, afab!reader, reader is neither masc nor fem, college!ellie and reader, astrophysics major!ellie
notes: i left the ending written in away that i might add another part to this fic! lmk if u want that lol
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °
“hey, 6 o’clock, there’s a certified hottie staring at you-“ one of your well-meaning friends tells you, motioning (not very) discreetly behind you.
you turn around and your jaw nearly drops. the girl staring at you is stunning, with her dark auburn hair and flannel worn over a wife-beater, sitting at the bar and sipping her drink. you make eye contact with her momentarily, and turn back to your friend, mary, with wide eyes.
mary laughs, “are you gonna go for it?”
your friends had forced you to go out to this gay bar with the intention of meeting new people after a break up that left you a complete wreck. it’d been about 3 months since your ex broke the news that they weren’t in love with you anymore, and it made any kind of romantic prospects leave a bitter taste in your mouth till this day. not to mention, you’re wayyy too drunk at this point to be on your A-game with flirting. you make a face and mary groans.
“come on, dude! she’s gorgeous, clearly interested, what else could you ask for?”
you make another face, “just because she’s staring doesn’t mean that she’s necessarily interested-“
“how about if she’s walking over to you right now? does that make her interested?”
you hear someone clear their throat behind you, and you give mary a murderous look before turning to the stranger with a smile.
she gives you a slightly awkward smile in return, “hey. i, um, i’m sorry if this is forward, but could i buy you a drink?”
your stomach is absolutely in knots, but you nod. “yeah, i’d love that.”
the stranger gives you a relieved smile in return, extending her hand to you, “i’m ellie. what’s your drink?”
you give her your name, “-and just a rum and coke, thank you so much.”
ellie’s clearly pretty drunk as well, which makes you feel a little better. she leads you back over to the spot at the bar she was sitting at, giving you her hand to help as you hop onto the excessively tall bar seats. she gives the bar tender your drink order and orders another whiskey on the rocks for herself.
“so, do you come to this bar a lot?” you ask, and inwardly cringe at yourself. ‘i basically just asked “so, you come here often?” great.’
ellie makes a so-so motion with her hand, “sometimes, not very often though. i study astrophysics so i don’t usually have the free time to deal with a hangover.”
your eyebrows raise and your drunk brain speaks before you think, “wow, smart girl.”
ellie’s cheeks flush a little, and she looks down, “i don’t know about that, but i’m really passionate about it, which is more than half the battle, i think.”
you scoff, “please, you’re literally studying rocket science. you can’t convince me that you’re not smart now.”
ellie laughs a little, “okay, then i’ll just shut up and take the compliment. thank you.”
the bar tender gives you two your drinks and ellie takes a sip of her own, “so, what do you do?”
you take a sip of your own drink, “i’m a student right now too, i’m actually studying-“
suddenly, you hear a familiar beat in the background, and you stop talking, a (likely goofy) smile growing on your face, “oh my god, i fucking love this song. nicki minaj literally cannot miss.”
ellie laughs brightly at that, raising an eyebrow, “i absolutely fucking agree. do you wanna dance?”
“really?”
ellie nods, taking a large gulp of her whiskey, “for sure. i couldn’t live with myself knowing i cheated a pretty girl like you out of a dance break.”
you giggle and nod, chugging the rest of your drink faster than you probably should. ellie takes your hand and leads you out the the dance floor where there’s a large crowd of people dancing together. you pull ellie against you, your actions emboldened by the alcohol in your system. ellie immediately goes to hold on your hips, your bodies moving against each other.
you don’t really think to much about how you’re dancing, just letting your body move how it wants to. before you even realize what you’re doing, you’ve turned around in ellie’s hold, grinding your ass back against her hips. when you realize what’s happening, you nearly stop, but when you feel the tight grip of ellie’s hands on your hips and the way she’s grinding back into you, you relax. you stand back up straight, and wrap your arm up and behind you, holding onto the back of ellie’s head, which is now tucked against your neck. when you feel her lips against your jugular, you inhale sharply, pressing more into her.
you feel her kisses trail down to your shoulder, and you thank your good luck for deciding to wear a tank top. you feel her pelvis digging into your ass, and you can’t be sure because the music is so loud, but you swear you hear her moan.
you turn back around in her arms, and before either of you realize what’s happening, you’re locked into a heated kiss. your arms wrap around her neck, and one of her hands sneaks down from your hips to squeeze your ass. you moan into her mouth, and she takes the opportunity for her tongue to explore your mouth. when you separate, you’re both panting.
“wanna get an uber back to mine?” she asks loudly over the blasting music, and you nod right away.
——
the uber driver for the ride back will likely leave ellie with a low rating, thanks to the two of you not being able to detach your mouths from each other for longer than 5 seconds, but you two eventually make it back to ellie’s apartment.
once you’re in her bathroom, you push her back onto her bed between kisses and straddle her. she kisses your neck and chest, pushing your tank top up. you take it off for her and you’re left in your bra. ellie grins and starts kissing the exposed parts of your breasts.
“god, you’re so fucking pretty-“ ellie says as she takes off your bra, immediately latching onto one of your nipples. you moan softly and hold onto her head, your fingers threading through her hair.
you feel her warm tongue smooth over the hardened bud before switching to the other to give it the same attention. as she does, her hands come up to squeeze your tits. she’s still sucking and nipping gently as she looks up at you, her doe eyes stirring the heat in your belly. when she unlatches; her lips are a little swollen and wet with saliva.
“what am i allowed to do? what do you need?” ellie asks, smoothing her hands down your waist and hips.
you shiver slightly, “anything.”
ellie starts kissing your neck again, sucking a hickey into the crook of your neck, “you’re gonna need to be more detailed then that, doll.”
you bite your lip, your tipsy brain racing, “i need you to fuck me.”
ellie pulls back, a wide grin growing on her face, and she kisses your collarbone. “jesus christ, i’d fucking love too… can you sit on my face first?”
your exhale sharply and nod. ellie lies back on the bed and you slide off ellie, kicking off your jeans, leaving your underwear on, before crawling back up ellie’s body.
ellie grips your thighs as you position yourself over her face. “fuck, you smell good… you this wet for me, babe?”
you nod again, your cheeks hot.
her smile is a little cocky as she looks up at your face, and licks over the wet fabric of your underwear. your legs jolt a little and you let out a shaky breath.
ellie shoves her face further between your legs, and you swear you hear her whimper. she pulls your underwear to the side, and licks a broad stripe up your cunt.
you moan, your eyes falling shut as you hold onto her headboard.
she pulls back, “i said sit on my face, babe, not hover-“
ellie’s hands pull on your thighs so you rest your weight on her face fully. ellie becomes borderline ravenous, her tongue lapping at your pussy, slurping you up as her fingers dig into the fat of your ass and thighs.
you bite on your fist to muffle your loud moans, but ellie will have none of that, her arm reaching up to pull yours away from your face.
after a moment, ellie sticks her tongue fully out, letting you rub your clit against it as you please. your breaths become more and more unsteady.
ellie’s hands on your ass help guide your hips, and when she moves to suck on your clit, the suction makes your orgasm hit you like a freight train, bucking your hips against ellie’s face.
when you’ve come down, ellie helps you off of your face, and rummages through her drawer to grab her strap.
you stop her, your hand against her chest, “i wanna feel you against me first.”
ellie doesn’t need to hear anymore, and quickly starts taking off her clothes as you take off your underwear. she moves so she’s on top of you, hiking one of your legs over her shoulder. the moment her wet cunt grinds into yours, you both moan, your eyes rolling back into your head.
“you feel so fucking perfect, so fuckin good for me-“ she rambles
ellie starts thrusting her hips against yours, and you watch her small, perky tits bounce with each movement. your hand trails up to squeeze one of them and she whimpers softly. when you pinch her nipple between your fingers, she moans gutturally and moves against you faster. you’re not at all in control of how loud you’re moaning at this point.
“look at you, sweet girl, so fucking gorgeous-“
it isn’t long before your oversensitive clit is being brought closer to another orgasm. you make obscene noises as you cum again, ellie’s eyes trained on your face the whole time.
“there you go- let me cum all over that pretty- ah, fucking- mmmh, pussy-“ ellie grunts before cumming a few moments after you.
you both take about 5 seconds to recover before she’s scrambling to grab the strap. once ellie has it on, you lick your lips, staring at it.
“can i ride it?”
ellie’s eyes go big, and she basically throws herself onto the bed, lying back and patting her thigh.
you giggle and climb on top of her, kissing her lips again. she kisses you back eagerly, grabbing your hips and thrusting her hips up, but you pull back.
“nope. hands off and stay still.” you order, and her already very dilated eyes look like pools of black at this point. she nods, biting her lip.
you take the strap and run the tip of it through your folds. ellie whines as she watches this, her hips bucking a little with her fists clenching the sheets below her.
“hey, what did i just say?” you ask, a mischievous smile on your face.
she takes a shaky breath, “sorry.”
you laugh a little, “so needy, ellie.”
you make eye contact with her as your hand travels down your own body, taking the time to squeeze and play with your own breasts. meanwhile, ellie looks like she’s practically salivating.
your hand travels down your stomach to your cunt, rubbing your own clit for a second as ellie watches, her mouth agape.
your fingers spread your folds and dip inside you for a moment, curling up and making you moan.
ellie is desperate at this point, “please, jesus fucking christ, i need you so bad, you don’t under-“
you withdraw your fingers, giving ellie a look. “hmmm… sounds like you need something to keep that mouth of yours busy, huh?”
you bring your slick-covered fingers up to her mouth. “open.”
ellie immediately opens her mouth and starts sucking off your fingers, whimpers muffled.
you giggle, “awww, you’re too fucking cute… now keep sucking on those, yeah?”
without warning, you sink down onto ellie’s strap and start bouncing. ellie whines, her eyes fixated on your tits as they bounce with you, still eagerly sucking on your fingers. ellie’s eyes fall shut for a moment as the base of the harness gives her clit the friction she’s craving.
you keep bouncing on her strap, watching the fucked out glaze in ellie’s eyes, half-lidded and fully dilated.
“awww… you just needed to get fucked, that’s all… look how pretty you are…” you tease and ellie starts whimpering like she’s gonna come from your words alone.
after a few minutes, you start to tire and you take out the fingers in her mouth, slowing down, “now, fuck me like you mean it, ellie.”
those words are all the permission ellie need before flipping you over and drilling her hips into yours.
“-pussy’s so fuckin- fuck, so fuckin’ tight for me, babe-“ ellie whimpers, tucking her face into your neck.
you would find it more amusing that ellie is acting like this strap is physically attached to her if she wasn’t making you feel so fucking good. you cling onto her as she fucks you, slamming into you just right, over and over.
“i need to cum, please let me cum- i can’t fucking-“ ellie rambles, and you cut her off
“i’m close too, baby, it’s okay-“ you pant, your eyes clenching shut as she fucks you into your third orgasm.
ellie’s hips bottom out and she grinds herself deep into you as she cums against the base of the harness, her moans needy and breathy.
when you both start coming down, she pulls out and tosses the strap away wordlessly, going back to cuddle against you.
you’re completely exhausted (and both of you still slightly drunk) as you let her spoon you, barely saying anything before slipping into a deep sleep.
———
“so you just… left? without even saying goodbye?” mary asks over the phone as you walk into the music building on your college campus, lugging your beat up guitar with you.
“what was i supposed to do? make her breakfast and thank her for the 3 orgasms?” you ask, holding the door open for a girl running in behind you.
the girl gives you a look and your face gets hot, realizing she overheard what you said.
“i mean… maybe? she was super hot,” mary responds, slightly agitated
you groan, “yeah, she was hot, but i barely learned anything about her and we were both drunk. not necessarily promising grounds for a budding relationship.”
you walk up the steps to the room you’re headed to, checking your phone again for the right room number.
“yeah, but still. she seemed like she would be cool,” mary justifies and you sigh.
“well, if i ever see her again while we’re not drunk and horny, maybe i’ll ask her out. but right now, that’s really not a priority.” you say, finding the right practice room.
mary starts to talk again but you interrupt her, “i’m sorry, mary, but i have to go.”
“wait, why? i know you don’t have class right now.”
“i’m taking those private guitar lessons to satisfy that extracurricular credit, remember? it’s my first lesson, so i really don’t wanna be late,“ you say, and mary sighs.
“okay, whatever. have fun, and i’ll talk to you after?”
you agree and end the phone call, looking to check the room number again before you walk in.
your forced, ‘make a good impression’ smile is immediately wiped off your face when you see the familiar auburnette playing the guitar in front of you.
she looks up at you and her cheeks go red almost instantaneously.
you say, “sorry, i must be in the wrong room- i have a lesson-“
ellie’s eyebrows raise and she lets out a slow sigh, “you, uh, you have a lesson?”
you nod, gripping your guitar case.
ellie laughs a little, like this is some sort of prank that was pulled on her:
“then you’re in the right room, because i’m pretty sure i’m supposed to teach you guitar this semester.”
you sharply exhale the breath you were holding in as the realization of what’s going on sets in, “but… you’re an astrophysics major?”
ellie chuckles again, “and a music minor, babe.”
you restrain the groan that you desperately want to make, your stomach sinking.
ellie pats the empty seat next to her, “well… let’s get started then. you know any bar chords yet?”
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outsideratheart · 3 months
Note
“I almost lost you.” with Leah Williamson
Leah Williamson was the woman for you. There was a lot in this world you didn’t know but this is one thing you were sure about.
Throughout the years you have been together you had experienced many ups and downs both on the pitch and off it but there was one moment that stuck out.
Back in 2019 Arsenal got an offer for Lyon that was too good to turn down. Never did you think you would leave Arsenal and your girlfriend but the temptation was there and it filled you with guilt. Talks happened between you and the french team but you kept them a secret from your girlfriend. In the end you chose your relationship over your career.
It’s how you found yourself experiencing an intense case of Deja Vu. For you Arsenal wasn’t the same as it once was and with your contract coming to an end, teams began making offers once again. Only this time you told your manager to reject every single one of them. Maybe your love of the team was deteriorating but your relationship wasn’t. You and Leah had just bought you forever home and you leaving wasn’t part of your 5 year plan.
“Is everything ok?” Leah asked as you walked into the kitchen where she was making herself, and now you, a cup for tea.
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Once again you had been asked to stay behind to work do extra training at the request of Jonas.
With the small amount of energy you have left you hoist yourself up onto the kitchen side.
Leah hands you a freshly brewed tea and takes her place between your legs. She watches as you place the cup aside without taking a sip.
“You never turn down a cup for tea. Something must be wrong” Leah slight chuckle soon came to an end when she saw your face drop.
Your mind was screaming in frustration but you remain silent. The only sign of response Leah gets is when you tilt your head back in attempt to avoid eye contact.
“We just need to finish this season and get it over with”
Never had Leah heard you talk about football in such a way. You spoke about it like it was a chore when normally you have a smile that spreads from ear to ear.
“You can leave Y/N. I know that—“ Leah begins to talk but you don’t let her finish her sentence.
“No, no ,no. I’m not leaving, I haven’t even taken any meetings. I promise you Leah, I haven’t”
Leah has known your departure from the club you both grew up in was imminent. She could play for Arsenal until the day she retired but the same could not be said about you. You deserved to reach your full potential and that wouldn’t happen at Arsenal.
“I know about the offers” Leah hands rub up and down your thighs. She watched as you visibly tense up at the mention of other clubs.
“I turned them down straight away”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have”
“It was the right decision for our future. Last time I…..I almost lost you”
It wasn’t an easy thing to remember. You and Leah were screaming at each other and it ended with her walking out. She didn’t return to your apartments for 3 days and they were the longest days of your life.
‘Y/N” Leah waited for you to look at her and after a few seconds you did “It wasn’t you moving that did that. It was that you kept it from me”
“I don’t know what to do. I’m not happy at Arsenal but I know that I’ll be even more miserable if I am away from you”
“What we are going to do is talk about it. You are going to be honest with me about how you are feeling and then you can tell me which city I will be visiting on my days off”
“I’ll grab the biscuits, you grab the drinks?” You ask with a smirk on your face.
“Sure” Leah steals a quick kiss “See, we will still be a team off the pitch”
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jeon-ify · 7 months
Text
thoughts- choi san ft. mingi
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synopsis: while your boyfriend is traveling for a music video, you can’t seem to shake off sexual thoughts even for the slightest amount of time. you need a release, and who better to call than mingi’s best friend san?
warnings: dom!san, sub!reader, reader cheats on mingi, san is a married man but cheats with reader, nipple play, breath play, rough sex, degradation, mingi calls san during sex, face slapping, pussy slapping, swearing, breeding kink (if you squint), etc. if i missed anything… let me know !
enjoy!
—————————————————————————————
with only 10 minutes left for mingi to head to the airport, you felt the sudden urge to bounce on mingi’s cock for no given reason, at the worst possible time. it’s always the worst moments that your brain and pussy decide to remix and come up with the worst scenarios at the most inconvenient times.
when you reached the airport, you helped mingi take his luggage out of the trunk of your car, getting ready to say goodbye to him. he closed the trunk, hugging you and taking in your scent before he leaves you for the next couple of weeks. though it was only 2 weeks, you can’t go any longer than that without mingi inside of you. you began to grow desperate for mingi right now, but you didn’t wait to tell him. the only thing you could tell him was “i love you, be safe. call me and text me as soon as you get to your hotel, okay?” and give him a kiss.
“i love you more, baby. don’t do anything stupid.” he reminds you as he kisses your forehead before he walks off.
“i won’t!” you shout behind him.
as you drive off, you immediately text mingi, in hopes that it’ll make time go by sooner.
y/n: baby :( how much longerrrr
y/n: miss u already mings </3
my mingi <3: baby? its only been like 3 minutes loll
my mingi <3: only 14 days left !!
turning your phone off with a sigh, you drive to find the nearest gas station. as you pump gas, you think about ways that you could wear off the sexual burden you’re carrying with you.
i could maybe masturbate or something?
you think. you’ve been touching yourself for far too long, afraid to ask mingi for sex, that he would get tired from how many rounds you’d ask for.
you go into the store to grab a redbull. as you pay and get into your car, you (hope to) brush off all sexual thoughts for the next two weeks.
3 DAYS LATER
“yeosang, are you at the house?” you say into the phone. you want to hang out with friends or have any human interaction after being locked up for 2 days because right now, no one is answering you. mingi must be busy, and your friends are busy too.
“no, san is there but its just him, why?” he’s quick to tell that something’s up, as you’d never call yeosang on your own.
“ok, can i go over? i’m hella bored and mingi’s busy. he’s not picking up my calls.”
“yeah, i’ll let him know you’re going over.”
“thanks, yeo.”
the call comes to an end, as you think about what you would even do at their house. you never go there without mingi. mingi never lets you go there on your own, knowing how his friends— san— are.
as you drive for the next 22 minutes, you decide to play music to possibly drown out all thoughts. you roll a window down, sip on redbull, but the thoughts just come right back to you.
you arrive to their home, parking in their unusually large driveway. you knock, hearing san rushing to open the door. “hey, what are you doing here?” he questions.
“i’m bored and yeosang said he told you i’d be here. did he not?” you say, voice shaking as you’re not aware of what might happen. if mingi knew you were here on your own, you would quite possibly end up single.
“yeah, come in.” he shuts the door behind you, just as confused as you are. he walks over to the kitchen, preparing cups and wine for the both of you.
“does mingi know you’re here?” he speaks with his back towards you, putting the drink in the fridge.
“no, and i don’t get why he doesn’t want me here. what’s so crazy about you guys that makes mingi so weird about me being here alone?” you begin. you want a conversation and you want san to tell what mingi won’t tell you. you feel like you’re cheating already, being here without your boyfriend.
“i don’t know. i’ve never done anything to him.” he argues. something must’ve happened on mingi’s end for them to end up so weird with each other.
“so how come you’re home alone? did no one invite you anywhere?” you question, taking a sip of the drink san had poured for you. he responds after a long pause of eye contact, watching the way your lips caress the rim of the glass.
“honestly, i didn’t wanna go anywhere. everyone else went out to wooyoung’s mom’s house and they’re spending the next 3 days there.” it’s like he has a convincing tone to his voice, not breaking eye contact as he confesses.
you want, so bad, to just let go of all sexual thoughts as they come back the second san watches your lips. you were never attracted to san, but the sexual absence that you’ve been facing has you in such a strong chokehold, you almost gasp for air in front of the man beside you.
your breath picks up its pace, trying to calm yourself before you let your intrusive thoughts win.
“y/n, are you okay?” he sets his drink down on the glass table, watching the way your thighs are clenching.
“san, if i tell you something you literally cannot tell a soul.” you set your drink down beside his, finally deciding to let some steam off.
“y-yeah. what’s going on, pretty?” he raises concern in his tone, the nickname sending shivers through your chest and down to your core. his voice is soft and deep, a sense of care and possessiveness without ever claiming you.
he knows what he’s doing.
“so mingi and i haven’t had sex in like 3 months, and when he left i guess my body went into autopilot trying to find a release when he like walked away from me. cus he looked so good in his outfit i guess the thoughts started flooding all at once. i dont know san, like why am i so-“ you ramble, san not even understanding what you’re getting at. your words leave your mouth at 100mph, trying to get to the point.
“y/n, what are you getting at?” he scoots closer to you. you feel his breathing becoming slower but deeper, his hands inching closer to your knee.
you sigh, in hopes to brush off the thoughts that are replaying in your mind— san being inside of you and filling in that void mingi had planted in your cervix. you also imagine the ways that san would wrap his rather larger veiny hands around your throat, cutting off all airways in multiple pleasuring ways. the way that he’d make you hold your orgasm makes your head spin. though you can only imagine, its almost as if he can hear your thoughts.
“has mingi actually made love to you? not just sex, actually fucked you the way you wanted.” he notices the way your mind races, picking at your cuticles in the anxious manner that san has created.
“we’ve had sex, but i guess he’s never asked me what i was into.” you mutter. san takes initiative, inching closer to your face.
“baby, how are you gonna handle two weeks with no release? you’ve gone however fucking long without the proper release, let your dear friend san show you a proper fuck, mm?” he takes your hand in his, running his free hand up your bare thigh. he notices the way your mouth lets out a gasp the closer he gets to your heat. your mind races again, finally realizing that this is why mingi never wanted you over here on your own.
“b-but—“ you try. you really don’t want this to stop, you know he’ll fuck you stupid. be honest to yourself, you wanna get fucked stupid, and who better to ask than san?
“let me make you feel good, hm? you want me to be rough with you? say the words, darling.” he inches closer, his right arm on one side of you as he leans on top of you. you stare at his lips, watching the way they drip with arousal already.
“san, use me.” fucking finally. as if you poured fuel to the fire, san immediately crashes his plump pink lips onto yours. the softness of his lips does not seem to match the roughness he implies into the kiss, exploring every inch of your mouth. his tongue runs along the roof of your mouth, to your gums, and almost to your throat from how deep he’s kissing you. he takes your tongue into his mouth, sucking and eliciting gasps from you, as you pull away and take his bottom lip into your lips, sucking and creating a red tint in his wake.
“fuckin’ hell. i need to taste you, pretty girl.” his lips move down to your neck, using his hands to unzip your sweater to kiss down your bare chest.
“no bra, it’s like you came over to fuck me, that right?”
yes, he’s right.
“n-no, please don’t tell mings—“ you moan as he takes your nipple into his mouth, almost sucking the entire muscle out of your chest.
“fuck! please, do something.” you moan. your eyes threaten to roll to the back of your head, seeing stars as san doesn’t stop sucking and swallowing everything you give him.
his long fingers move to take your shorts off, immediately rubbing circles on your pussy the second the fabric leaves your legs.
“oh my god, you are fucking soaked, y/n. what’s going on in your pretty head, hm? bet you think about me when you fuck mingi. right, pretty?” his fingers plunge into your hole, relentlessly fucking into your pussy. his free hand finds a home over your mouth to mask your moans and gasps while he fucks you with his hand.
your legs clench around his forearm, threatening to squirt on his couches. your stomach clenches while san moves his hand from your mouth to land a sharp slap onto your pussy. your body jolts with pleasure from the slap, san groaning from how hard you’re clenching his fingers.
“open.”
he brings his fingers up to your mouth as you suck and swallow your juices. “good girl, take it all.”
he takes his pants off, wasting no time in jerking himself and entering your sopping hole. your eyes widen at his size, intimidated that you won’t be able to take him.
“san, i don’t think—“
“you can and you will.”
he stops you, placing his right hand on your throat while the other guides his length into your hole. you throw your head back onto the arm rest, your legs threaten to shut around his waist while he already picks up the pace.
he pounds into you relentlessly, hitting your cervix and pulling the ropes of your orgasm.
“so dirty, letting me choke you out and fuck you like a whore. what would mingi say, huh? look at me when i’m talking to you, y/n.” he grips your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye when he pounds you.
“i-i don’t know! please,” you’re not sure what you’re begging for, because san’s giving you all that you’ve missed out on.
you should’ve said yes when he’d asked you out that one time.
“what are you begging for? i’m giving you everything your fuck-ass boyfriend can’t give you.” he slaps your cheek, leaving a red handprint on the right side of your face. you smile at him as he does it again.
“you’re so deep in me, sannie. it’s too much,” you begin to see stars as you yell out. all you can do is moan and cry for san to keep fucking you, even though it feels like you’re being ripped in half in the best way.
“you talk so fucking much, wonder why mingi won’t fuck you.” he lifts your legs onto his waist in a more comfortable spot, while he wraps both hands around your throat, squeezing tightly as he pounds into your pussy faster.
you whimper, san kissing your almost purple lips, using his thumb to open your mouth. he lands a wad of spit onto your tongue as you gracefully swallow him.
“keep clenching around me, there you fucking go. open your legs wider,” san is interrupted by his phone ringing. he doesn’t pull out, only reaching for it on the table by your head. he plants a kiss on your forehead before he leans back up to answer what displays as
‘Mingi’
he swipes to answer, putting the phone on speaker.
“yo,” you hear your boyfriend. you try so hard to suppress your moans, as san fucks into you faster and deeper. he places a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, even though he wants mingi to know how good he’s fucking you.
“mingi-ya. how’s ja-japan?” he mutters while you clench around his dick tighter. he moves his hand away from your mouth to pinch at your nipple.
“its good, hows everyone doing? i called y/n, but she didn’t answer.” concern and your name in the same sentence catches your attention while san looks at you in faux surprise.
“she’s good, yeosang checked up on her a few days ago, she’s just bored.”
he plunges his hips extra hard into you, staying in that one position, not moving an inch. your stomach clenches as you squirt all over san’s pelvis. he gasps, impressed by his action.
mingi is talking, but the both of you are just listening. san isn’t answering the way mingi wants him to, only reacting to what he says.
“are you good, bro? are you even listening to me?”
“uh— yeah, yeah i am.” san leans towards your face, licking the tears that fell from your doe fucked out eyes. you put your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise.
“alright, i’m gonna go. i’ll talk to you later, san.”
“bye mingi”
“you’re fucking dirty, such a whore.” he groans and swallows in an attempt to clear his dry throat as he tosses the phone somewhere in the room.
“i’m gonna cum, sannie. please cum in me.” you bring your hand up to the back of his head to pull him closer to you. you lick a stripe up his dimple as he smirks. you feel him swell up and twitch in your pussy, his hand coming down to rub circles on your clit. his hips stutter as he fucks you slower, emptying himself in your cervix.
“want my cum leaking out of your pretty pussy even when mingi’s around.” he pulls out of you, watching the way his cum leaks out of your hole. he uses two fingers to spread your lips, watching the way your hole clenches and how loose he’s made you.
you realize how much you were missing out on the minute san touched your thigh.
sex will never be the same again.
—————————————————————————————
i don’t even know what to say.
😁
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remuslupinslittleslut · 8 months
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The morning after-cure
Part two of this.
After getting stupidly drunk and trying to get in her boyfriends' pants, reader finally gets what she wants. <3
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Waking up, your head was pounding. The few glasses of water that had been poured into your mouth before bed did little to help. Stretching your body, you curse yourself for drinking so much the night before. Deciding it’s not actually time to get up yet, you snuggle your way into the arms of the closest person, who turned out to be Sirius, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.
“How’re you feeling today, love?” He asks.
You sigh, hiding your head even further into the crook of his neck, “my head hurts.”
Feeling the shaking in his chest from the chuckle he let out, you try to kick him, but your limbs are too tired to make the attempt count. Despite you not being able to actually kick him, he still grabs a hold of your chin, as he flips you both to lay on top of you.
“What’re you doing little one? Trying to hurt me? After I told you to drink water and take an aspirin when we got home?” His hips roll against yours, hardening cock pressing against your naked core through the fabric of his underpants.
“Siri, please,” you beg, fingers pulling his hips closer to yours, pushing through the top of his underpants, trying to move them down his legs.
“Awe, baby, don’t rush it.” Sirius started kissing down your neck, but he stopped moving his hips. Pushing himself up with one arm, the other came down between the two of you, fingers lifting up your t-shirt, and then slipping in between your thighs. “Oh, honey, you’re dripping for me, didn’t get what you wanted last night, huh?”
The feeling of fingers against your clit and words spoken against your neck made you moan, hips bucking to meet his hand.
“You’ve gotta be quiet babe, or you’ll wake the others,” he chastised, “actually, if you make any sounds, I’ll stop.”
He kissed your nose before moving down the bed, placing his head where his hand had been before, tongue diving in to taste the sweetness of your juices. Your hand went straight to his hair, trying to hold him as close as possible, pushing his lips harder against your core.
You were trying so hard not to make a sound but when you were finally pushed over the edge, you couldn’t help the sound escaping from your lips, earning you a slap to the inside of your thigh.
“Is it my turn now?” James asked from your right, as Sirius moved away from you, licking around his lips.
“No, Prongsy, I’ve waited for longer,” Remus said, taking Sirius’ previous spot.
Pouting, James leaned in to kiss you on the lips instead, which resulted in him kissing all over your face, neck and chest, as Remus brought you to your second orgasm of the morning.
“How’s your head baby? Can you handle one more? Can’t leave Jamie hanging…”
“Just need a sip of water, then I can take another,” you gasp, only just coming down from the second orgasm.
“Someone go get her a straw, I’m not waiting.” He wasn’t lying, his fingers pushed into you, tongue licking at your clit.
Your first orgasm was nice, it was hard to keep quiet but you enjoyed Sirius lips on you, your second was great, Remus lighting nerves already fired up, but your third orgasm, oh, that was spectacular, turned into four, even. You knew James loved eating you out more than any of the other boys, and when he was left for last, he showed it especially much. Fingers plunging in and out of your cunt, tongue licking, lips kissing, wanting to taste every bit of you.
“Oh, god, Jamie, coming, oh,” you barely get the warning out before you’re coming, squirting over James, drenching his face and his shirt, leaving the sheets all wet.“See, little love, it’s so much better, when it’s all consensual,” Sirius said, kissing the top of your head and offering you some fresh water, from a straw.
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gracieheartspedro · 4 months
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Your Needs, My Needs
I : Strawberry Wine
a masterlist of how you can help gaza
the prelude to this series
pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)
description: joel fixes your toilet but you can't help but yearn for more time with him. so you invite him to dinner and try to win his stomach? aka love?
word count: 3.2k words
warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, reader does have anxiety/mental illness that is not fully recognized/diagnosed, mentions of eating food, reader lives alone, reader got MONEYYYY, mentions of joel's ex wife (gasp), alcohol consumption, smoking cigarettes, kissing, flirting. all the fluffy stuff <3
author's note: hey...hey.... how y'all doing?? i'm so so so sorry this has taken so long. my life has been crazy for the last like 4 months and I'm finally getting settled into my life again. I miss y'all and I miss writing, so HERE I AM! I'm hoping everyone who wanted me to tag them months ago is still cool with me tagging them 4 months later lol. okay, lemme know what you think xoxo
Joel comes and goes for days. The first day he returns, he inspects your toilet again and tells you he has the wrong tools. You discuss a game plan and by his initial projections, your toilet should be fixed the next day. But when he fails to come by in the morning, you decide to call the phone number on the post-it note he left for you the day before. 
The phone rings and you get an answering machine of a younger girl telling you to leave her and Dad a message after the beep. When the line lets out a long ding, you breathe out the random croak in your throat. 
“Uh, hey, Joel, it’s me. Just seeing if you’re stopping by today. If not, that’s fine, I’ll be home all day today and tomorrow. Okay, uh, bye.”
Hours go by and you find yourself pacing, regretting your decision to leave him a message. What if he gets it and thinks that you’re crazy? 
Ever since you had made his acquaintance, you felt completely reliant on interacting with him. It may be due to the fact that you haven’t socialized with anyone else in months. You were very good at isolating yourself, but lately, it’s been eating you alive being so alone. Now that you had this big house, the silence felt almost too quiet. Joel’s southern drawl and straightforward responses gave a bit of light back to your life. 
Around dinner time, your landline rings. You practically fall over your couch racing to pick it up, hoping it was him. 
“Howdy neighbor,” He grunts through the phone, “Sorry I didn’t come by today, hope ya didn’t miss me too much.”
You let out a dry laugh, trying not to sound too giddy about him following up with you. You were borderline pathetic. 
“No, I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” You manage to get out, “You are still alive right?”
“Still kickin’, just busy as all get out. ‘M fixin’ to head to your place now if you’re not busy.”
You look down at your pajamas and start to nod. It’s not like he can see you through the phone, but you are reacting to his words like he’s right in front of you. 
“Sure thing, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
-
“So… It’s really just you here? All by your lonesome?”
He’s messing with his toolbox, searching for the one tool he needs to fix the toilet. You stir your fresh brewed tea, ensuring none of the sugar clumps up at the bottom of the mug. You had offered him some, but he politely declined, telling you that he had a big dinner.
You take a sip, testing the sweetness. “Just me. How about you? Just you and your daughter, right?”
He laughs heartedly, turning towards you from where he’s squatted. You look at him with curious eyes, unsure if you asked the wrong question. He stands up, a wrench in his hand, a smile still spread across his face. 
“Her mama left town with her new boyfriend about 5 years ago. Wanted the city life, not the life I gave her. It’s been just me and her ever since.”
So he’s single. You think to yourself. 
You realize the laugh was probably because of how absurd and new it must be for someone to ask him about his life. He grew up here and you are positive everyone here already knew all about his business. You are a breath of fresh air for him. 
Before the silence becomes awkward, you speak up. “City life ain’t worth a shit.”
“Yeah, she’s different. Won’t speak ill of her ‘cause that’s my bosses’ mama. She sees her now and again. They are just very different.” 
The conversation comes easy with Joel. While the first couple of interactions you two shared were a bit strained, after days of small talk, you realize he’s the truest Southern gentleman you’ve ever interacted with. Polite with a little bite. He never speaks ill of others, except his brother. He loves to pick on Tommy. He seems like an attentive father. He loves to pick at you, always pointing out your Northern tendencies. Your horrible driving. Your accent and your speech patterns. But he’s also very complimentary. A couple of days ago, he remarked how nice your perfume was when you were standing close to him. It made your heart skip a beat. 
And on top of all of those things, he’s very easy on the eyes. 
“That’s mighty fine of you not speaking ill of your ex,” You try to drag out the silly Southern saying, which causes him to chuckle again. You smack your lips before continuing, “Wish I could do the same.”
You are not sure what he’s doing to the tank of your toilet, but you watch him strain to get a piece out of the corner with the wrench he has. He clenches his teeth, turning the piece to the left to loosen it. 
“Exes are exes for a reason,” He grunts, fiddling with some more things in the tank, “I ain’t too hung up on datin’ right now. I got my girl and my horses.”
“And now you got me, your annoying neighbor who almost crashes into your horses and asks you to fix toilets.”
He breathes out loudly, “Yeah, ‘nother pain in my ass. Just what a man needs.”
-
The toilet is fixed too quickly. You had busied yourself with other small cleaning tasks that when Joel finds you in the kitchen doing dishes, he startles you. It took him about 15 minutes to finish the job and you had thought you could at least finish up the dishes you made from dinner. 
“‘M all finished up. Gotta get back home to do some rounds at the stables,” He says as he waltzes over to your paper towel holder. He grabs a sheet and begins to wipe his damp hands, “Anythin’ else for me today?”
You turn off the running water, going down a list of fixes you could ask him to do. You decide it’s probably best to just ask him to swing by another day to help you with other things. 
“No, thank you though, Joel. I am sure I’ll be by to ask for more help,” You chuckle, shaking your hands dry, “I owe you dinner or something.”
As you say it, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. He’s staring at you and there’s a glint in his eyes. You are not that good at reading people, mostly because you are deathly afraid of being wrong. His eyebrows raise as he leans against the counter near you. He’s so close and in your space, but you try to push the thought of him coming onto you out of your mind. 
“What’do you got on the menu tomorrow?”
His voice is kind of husky which makes your brain draw a blank. You wipe your hands on your pants before crossing the kitchen to check your fridge. You glance through your ingredients, settling for the only dinner item you can conjure up that his southern palette may like. 
“Baked chicken and vegetables?”
He nods, tossing his paper towel into the bin beside you. “Yeah, I've been needing a home-cooked meal. Think I could come over at like 5? Tomorrow?”
You recollect a time when a guy showed interest in wanting to hang out with you outside of work. It had been years and he was not nearly as attractive as the man in front of you. 
You nod slowly, trying not to look too robotic due to your nerves. “Sure thing, cowboy.”
-
You did not know what to wear. You contemplated going into town to see what the local boutiques had but you ran the risk of Joel seeing you out. You didn’t even know if this was a date. 
You settle on a sundress you have owned since high school. It’s the perfect length and while your mind goes to wanting to impress Joel, you also need to be comfortable. 
You cleaned your house, adding some new decorations to your living room walls. You even clean your sheets and make sure your bedroom is vacuumed. 
When the time comes for Joel to arrive, you pace the kitchen anticipating the doorbell. You already had all the food prepped and ready to put in the oven. The vegetables have been cut and seasoned. Everything was just the way you needed it to be. 
Joel gets there 5 after your scheduled time. When you welcome him at the door, his hair is styled and you can tell he put on his “fancy jeans”. 
What you didn’t expect was the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands. 
“Afternoon, neighbor,” He begins before extending the floral arrangement towards you, “My girl said I had to bring you something nice. Somethin’ bout being a gentleman.”
You smile widely, giving flowers all your attention. Even with the fragrant bouquet, you get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. 
“Nice to see you cleaned up for me, cowboy. Come on in, dinner is about to get put in the oven.”
-
You catch him scanning you up and down when you place the spread of chicken and vegetables on the table. He was in the midst of talking about his daughter and her band fundraiser, but he completely halted when you took notice of his staring. 
You settle into the dining room chair across from him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. 
“She needs more sponsors?” You break the silence, wanting to move away from the sudden awkwardness. 
He swallows, reaching for the serving fork, “Oh, yeah. She needs to reach a certain goal to go on her senior band trip.”
You try to avoid his wandering gaze again, focusing on organizing your plate of vegetables. “Where are they going?”
“Disney. She ain’t never been out of Texas, so she really wants to go.”
You remember all the trips your family said they’d go on to Disney, but they never did. Your father could not stand being around his own children, let alone other people’s children. You think about how he used to complain about your constant questions, all the times he completely ignored you for your brother. You start to spiral, the anxiety creeping up in the back of your throat. You push your chair out from under the table, excusing yourself for a moment. You go to the bar you have set up in the living room and grab the only sweet wine you have. Strawberry. You grab two glasses from the top of the setup and walk back to Joel. 
“Forgot wine,” you mumble, setting a glass in front of him, “You want some?”
He is already picking at his chicken, “Yeah, I’ll take some.”
You are quiet as you uncork it expertly, pouring it into each of the glasses. Joel watches you like a hawk. You can tell he’s trying to read your expression, so you try your best to remain neutral even though your hands are shaking. 
You place the bottle in the middle of the table, making sure it’s easily reachable. 
You finally sit back down, sipping the red liquid. The strawberry flavor isn’t very strong, it’s more like a hint of the berry. You had gotten the bottle from a roadside stand in Kentucky. An older lady who must have owned a vineyard nearby was selling them for $5 each. You told yourself you would only use it for a special occasion. This event seemed fitting. 
Wine always makes you flushed, but you are always a bit flushed around Joel. Even more so when he’s watching you so intently. 
After a couple of sips, you finally rest your shoulders and begin to eat your dinner. 
“I could sponsor her,” you finally say, returning to the previous conversation. For some reason, you felt obligated. Joel quickly retaliates, shaking his head as he chewed on your roasted veggies. 
“You ain’t gotta do that, doll.” 
The nickname rings in your ears. You take another sip of wine. You can tell Joel notices your reaction because he smirks with his mouth full. 
“But I want to, Joel. I’m sure she has worked hard her high school career, she deserves to have fun.”
He hums, but still shakes his head negatively, “I can’t let you just pay for-”
“You can and you will,” You enjoy another bite, smirking at your defiance towards him. He looks perplexed. “So when is this fundraiser? Is there like a dinner or something?”
He finally caves, “This Friday at the school. It’s a dinner and auction. I guess if the kids don’t find their sponsors, some local businesses are willing to sponsor them.”
“Are you going?”
“Yeah,” He cuts up his chicken, “I guess you’re gonna come along, too, if you’re givin’ my girl all that money.”
“Does a check work?”
He sits back in his chair, already finishing off his wine, “You seriously don’t have to-”
“What are neighbors for, Joel?”
He nods, “You mean friends.”
You furrow your brows, trying to let your hazy mind find a time when you called him your friend. This was a new development.
“Friends, huh?”
He pours more in his glass, “Well, I’d like to think so.”
The wine is hitting your system and you realize your arms feel lighter. You grab the stem of your glass and tip it up to down the rest of the alcohol. Joel’s eyes are trained on you, waiting for a snarky response. 
“Do friends stare at other friends like that?” You pour more wine for yourself. You realize he’s done eating so before he can respond to your flirtation, you speak up again, “You done with that?”
He looks down at his empty plate, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Yes friends look at other friends like that, or you’re done eating.”
He grins, “‘m done eating, doll.”
-
You two find your way out to the rocking chairs. They were left there by the previous owners and you could tell they were probably as old as you. 
You had another full glass of wine, sipping it as Joel lit up a cigarette. He admitted it was only a bad habit when he was drinking, which was rare. “Sarah gets onto me when I have even one beer. So this has gotta be between us two.”
You swirl the crystal, watching him carefully take a drag of the stick. “Your secret is safe with me, cowboy.”
He giggles as he lets out a huff of smoke. “I haven’t had secrets in a long time. Guess I’m lucky it’s with the town stranger.”
The statement hits you in the very pit of your settling tummy. You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward towards him. Your chairs are not that far away from one another, so this is probably the closest you have ever been to him except for that one moment in the kitchen. 
“Luckiest man in Texas that’s for sure,” You muster, averting your eyes. You could not stare into his beautiful brown eyes for too long. “Having the privilege of getting me out of my head. No man has done that in years.”
“What? You not good at letting loose?”
You shake your head, knowing that he did not understand what you meant. You take a moment to inhale, finally glancing up at him again. “I think I may just be cursed.”
“Now, why do you say that?”
You contemplate spilling the beans. Letting your heart fall onto your sleeve after years of shielding it from anyone who looks your way. Your lips part, but no words come out. It’s just the sounds of the cicadas. 
“As soon as something is good, it gets bad somehow. I don’t even get a moment to savor it.”
You feel the statement down to your bones. The last time you felt settled in your own life, the rug got pulled out from under you. You cannot remember a time when you truly felt present in a special moment. You always felt like you were floating outside of your body, watching things happen and never really truly feeling anything. 
You don’t expect him to lean closer to you, “Whatever happened before you got here, you ain’t gotta worry about it anymore. You obviously put distance between you and what happened for a reason. Let this little side of the world be your home now.”
You push your spiraling thoughts away, letting him be right. 
“I’m workin’ on getting settled. It’s easy when you have a handsome cowboy to help along the way.”
It comes out like word vomit. Between the wine and the nerves coursing through your entire being, you can’t help but admit your little crush on the man. You slap your free hand over your forehead, admitting defeat before he can even respond. You knew he would take the comment and run with it.
“You always flirt with your friends, sweetheart?” He was toying with you, which was a good sign. If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t call you such a thing. 
You smile, releasing your face from your hand. His eyes are tracing every curve of your face, a subtle pass that you did not capture quickly enough. 
“Only ones that fix my toilets.”
And then, he kisses you. It happens so quickly, that you don’t fully grasp that it’s happening until you're molding your lips into his. Once your buzzed brain picks up the fact that the man you have been crushing on is kissing you, he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed, your hands still gripping onto your wine glass. 
He huffs loudly and stands up quickly. Once you place your eyes on him, he’s pacing around the back deck stairs, not too far from where you’re sitting. You instantly bite back the urge to ask him what’s wrong, because there’s always something wrong. 
“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I should’na done that.”
He instantly regretted it. The thought made your throat tighten. He continues to walk back and forth, causing a draft. 
“It’s fine, Joel. I’m n-not mad.”
He shakes his head, halting his robot-like movements. He finally looks at your pitiful expression and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think I’m much of a gentleman, kissing you on the first date.”
You watch as he places his hands on his hips, contemplating his whole life right before your eyes. You realize he is too traditional to see that nowadays, people are sleeping together on the first date. First base is nothing. You rest your glass on a decrepit table next to you and stand up. 
You slowly approach him, trying to catch a glance from him, but he continues to avert his eyes. You grow bold enough to tilt his chin towards you, letting your guard down for a moment. 
“You’re such a gentleman, it hurts,” you whisper, slowly letting a smirk grow across your face. The comment makes his shoulders lower, finally relaxing from such a heated moment. 
“Just don’t wanna mess this up with ya,” He murmurs, only letting you and the nearby fireflies hear you, “I enjoy spending time with you.”
You slowly lower your hand to your side, trying to act casually about the confession. But the truth is you want to run and wake up every cow and horse within a 10-mile radius with a squeal of delight. 
“I like spending time with you, too, Joel.”
He takes your hand as you say it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. His breath is hot on the back of your hand before he says, “Well now, I quite like the sound of that."
taglist (some of y'all can't be tagged, I tried lol)
@midnightdragonzero @casssiopeia @anoverwhelmingdin @notsosecretspy @raindrcpsangel @art-estrange @misstokyo7love @lizzie-cakes @d1lf-loverrr @ashleyfilm 
@blckbrrybasket @cande-beggins @gloryekaterina @lilyevanstan1325 @frogtape @jamesdeerest @mellymbee @arrowsandanchor @polishedtaylor @harrieandharassed @ranahx @youwouldntdownloadapizza @jmillersgirl @wintersquirrel @stefanibear003 @joliettes @startsm00n @abbsfrommars @76bookworm76 @youotterbekiddingme @jodiswiftle
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onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give.
> idol!jungkook x f!reader / angst, fluff, suggestive / wc: 8.3k
> warnings: mention of infidelity (no one did u can breathe ily), mention of a classmate slipping their number in oc’s pocket and oc feeling unsafe, mention of puking, mentions & allusion to s/x, alcohol consumption, making out, boob!e fondle, gr*nding kinda? jungkook is hard™️ they’re so in love it’s sickening
> in which masterlist!
playlist! and if/or when - ruel / hate everything - jungkook cover (gsoul) / hits different - taylor swift / statue - lil’ eddie / i wouldn’t ask you - clairo (i had to get in the zone & this is so oc-coded i need u to listen i’m so srs)
next: in which you don’t want to give up jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to).
note: this was a journey. happened back in june 2019.!! i’m ripping off the bandaid <3 deep sigh writing this made me realize how my babies have come so far. hopefully will follow up with a fluffy fluff lowkey inspired by the underwear live soonest lols i’m excited for it 2 stay tuned 🫂 reblogs & feedback are much appreciated <3
you forgot the walls of the apartment building you’re living in are thin. a small portion of the white paint has been chipped off, it looks like a birth mark, you note — except it’s not, and you’re the one who caused the irregularity.
your favorite glass is scattered across the kitchen floor, reduced to shards and to sparkling pieces almost as miniscule as dust. you don’t know what came over you. you don’t know why you threw it at the wall instead of filling it with cold water to only drink three sips like you usually do.
just when you thought you’ve been faring well in holding yourself together today, a fresh wave of sorrow overwhelms you. your knees buckle as you begin weeping, the loudest you’ve been since this nightmare has started. it swallows the knocking sounds at your door, but it’s still not loud enough to quell jungkook’s quivering voice playing like a broken record on loop inside your head.
“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”
the rain is coming down fiercely and you’re freezing inside his car, parked outside your apartment. after all, his balenciaga windbreaker can only do so much against the blasted airconditioner. your throat is painfully dry, and your hands and face are numb from the piercing cold. but those are the least of your concerns because you feel like your head had just been dunked in ice water. the sting in your eyes are burning warmer as the seconds fly by and the muffled sounds of the torrential raindrops drum frantically in your ears. they’re clouding the car windows, mirroring jungkook’s tear-stained cheeks.
“i’m leaving again in three weeks. and i’m leaving again next year… and i’ll be gone again soon after that for a long time. i-i don’t know when i’m coming home, ___.” he pauses. the heel of palms press against his eyes, as if that could possibly barricade the saltwater leaking from them. “i never know where my life is taking me and you have your own… there’s too much-too much going on. i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”
“open the door! hello?! ___!”
“what do you want?!” you seeth in annoyance, swinging the door open to reveal your pesky neighbor.
he scratches the top of his head awkwardly at the sight of the mess that you greeted him with, having not bothered to pretend that you weren’t wailing your heart out.
”hey, i know you’re going through something…” his lips remain parted as he struggles to find the correct word, his right eye twitching voluntarily. “soul-crushing? right now. but i heard glass breaking and i was concerned that you, uhm, might’ve hurt yourself.”
the apparent nervousness and sincerity in his actions pull you out from the isolating disassociation you’ve imprisoned yourself in. you feel humiliated, presenting yourself in your most pitiful form infront of a kid two years younger than you. you envy him for having it together after storming out of his parents’ house while you-
“i’m not hurt. it was just an accident.”
you’re shamelessly lying infront of his face because the truth makes you feel too ashamed of yourself.
he only nods, smiling in relief. “i don’t know how to help make you feel better, so i just brought honey like i used to do before.”
you sigh, the familiar jar of honey and its red checkered lid waving at you like an old friend. has it been a year?
“bro, i told you i can’t accept this anymore.”
“you and your boyfriend already broke up. what’s the big deal?”
you have never wanted to smack someone more, the genuine confusion painted on his face feels like an infuriatingly harsh slap to yours.
“he wasn’t threatened by your honey, you dipshit. we just found out my blood sugar was getting a bit high!”
“oh- i’m so-”
you angrily slam the door shut. the silence you’re left with is suffocating, and you find yourself breaking down again.
he jumps in surprise when you open the door again, yelling- “and we’re not broken up!” before ripping away the jar of honey from his sweaty palms. he’s left completely flabbergasted, an inexplicable heaviness weighing on his chest when he hears your sniffling from the other side of the hard-wood.
“does that mean i can deliver again next week? i have too much in my kitchen…”
he doesn’t receive a snarky answer, surprisingly, so he continues talking.
“and f-y-i, your left cheek is bleeding! you might want to check on that!”
“you didn’t even give me any signs…”
you inhale a deep, shaky breath in a fragile attempt of keeping your composure. you want to scream, rip apart this thick tension with your bare hands, and force him to admit that this is just some kind of sick joke. you finally see him in person after months and all he has for you is a gift bag filled to the brim with heartbreak. this is too casually cruel, not something you would’ve expected from your jungkook.
“do you really mean that? or is there something else you’re not saying…? look at me.” you plead, weakly tugging at the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. the horrors of long-distance relationship stories claw their way out of your skin, adding fuel to the fire of your deepest fear. “you didn’t cheat on me, right? that can’t be it. we- we always-”
after you ended your last relationship, you cried at the parking lot of your university and continued living your life the next morning as if nothing happened at all. you did it all for yourself, anyway. he was gradually tearing down your confidence and your dignity; and you didn’t want to become a person the future you would despise for not being wiser, stronger.
and here you are at present day: spending the cozy sunday night solving chemistry problems on your desk. you have a blue bandaid plastered on your face and a cheek full of fruit and honey. and you would say you’re fine, but jungkook wasn’t here to sweetly dote on you while treating your wound. he isn’t here to taste the honey from your lips with that coquettish smirk of his. he isn’t laying on your bed, fighting to stay awake because he wants to fall asleep with you as his pillow.
no matter how hard you try to shut out this thought, it keeps knocking on the door. he’s going to be doing these sweet nothings for a different person when he finally reaches a more stable place in his life. you want to kneel on the ground, beg the heavens to meddle with destiny and never let you hear about it.
because that means he will never set foot in your apartment again, and the personal belongings you left in his room will be thrown out to erase the traces you left behind.
so this is how it begins.
the ugliest parts of you are swimming to the surface, tying themselves around your ankles because jungkook took away the ground from beneath your feet after unearthing your soul and… nothing makes sense to you anymore. if you wake up every morning to tend to your garden, and you look outside the window to learn that the sun has stopped burning, what do you have left?
your lips inevitably curve into a frown, but you inhale a sharp breath, patting your eyes dry before they can smudge the black ink on your notepad. and then you dip a strawberry in honey for the third time.
“no, baby, no- that’s not it.”
the dread and insecurity weaved into the cracks of your voice fill him with nausea and panic. he captures your frigid hand with haste, firmly holding it to his pounding chest.
“i would never do that to you. just the thought alone fucking disgusts me… you’re the only one. you’ve ruined me for everybody else.”
“then why are you giving up on me? am i becoming a burden?”
jungkook feels painfully numb, mind floating as the buildings outside the window get left behind him as a mere, passing blur.
“yah, jungkook-ah. are you crying?”
a torturous moment of silence passes as he struggles to find his voice. his tongue is tied, and his lost eyes are betraying the nights he spent practicing how to explain himself to you. back then, the reasoning he curated made sense. but faced with the consequences of his actions, the love of his life’s brain running a thousand miles per hour, recording a tale of woe and heartache on his passenger seat — he has never felt this much loathing for himself and his weaknesses.
you release a shaky breath, patting his rosy cheeks dry with your sleeves. you smile at him kindly, and he watches you in sheer disbelief. he can’t fathom the perpetual luck he’s been blessed with that he met, who he believes to be, the purest soul to grace this corrupted world. they’re damp with your tears, so it’s practically useless, but the sweet gesture is a stray beam of sunlight in the midst of the dull gray clouds.
the comforting rubs on his shoulder extracts him from his torturous thoughts, and only then does he feel the wetness on his face.
“you’ve been holding it back for the past week. just cry it out.”
he nods wordlessly, hiding himself in the fleece blanket from his lap. yoongi can feel a lump forming in his throat as he witnesses his youngest brother breaking down, jungkook’s pain also being his pain. as a group who’s been living together for the past decade, no one will be able to empathize with them as well each other. especially during times like this.
“___ hasn’t called?”
jungkook shakes his head wistfully, wiping away the tears that slid down his nose. he is dying to send you a text message, worried sick, and still used to hearing about your day the same way he is used to sleeping on his stomach.
“hyung,” the sound of the word borders on a sob. “it’s over. this is killing me… it’s all my fault.”
“but isn’t that what you wanted?”
“exactly. so why am i crying?” his hands ball into closed fists. “i’m an asshole.”
“enough of that!” yoongi loudly whines out his scolding. ”we all know you had your reason.”
“but, hyung, i fucked up!” he tenses up, blurting out the acknowledgement that’s been haunting him day and night. “she told me the most romantic thing and i felt so… fuck, i’m so angry at myself. i ruined everything. and i’m scared that i’d end up making things worse if i try fixing it.”
“stop beating yourself up. we can’t solve things this way.” yoongi grabs a bottle of water from the cupholder between them, twisting the cap open before handing it to jungkook. “drink first.”
once he starts drinking, he realizes that his throat has been awfully dry and sore. it’s most probably best for him to rest his voice. he can already foresee the concert rehearsal being absolute hell tomorrow. if he can’t sing, he doesn’t know how else he’s supposed to keep himself sane.
“talk to me. what did she say?”
“you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, do you know that?”
and with that revelation, he loses the warmth of your touch, and he comes crashing down like a wingless aircraft.
“i also need time to think about it. that’s only fair, right? that i get to decide, too…?” you swallow thickly, lips parting as if the words are resisting to come out of your mouth.
he looks at you with an emotion you can’t name, a push and pull between longing and trepidation.
if this was a movie, he would brave the rain and somehow perfectly deliver a poetically romantic speech that would sway your heart. if this was a movie, you would take a warm bath together, make out in the bathtub, and make love on your bed. if this was a movie, the day would end with the two of you tangled up, peacefully asleep and rhythmic breathing in sync. but he knows you. apparently not as well as he thought, but to some extent, he knows you. if he pulls you closer in the heat of the moment, you would feel suffocated and defensive and you would push him away; and he would lose you for good. that much he knows. so he lets you leave and he stays in the car— heartbroken, crestfallen, and regretful, because he might’ve just recklessly thrown away the best gift the universe has ever given him.
“i was thinking about how she never would’ve made this much sacrifices and efforts for anyone else and i feel like… i- it’s all going to waste because our future is uncertain. i can’t be committed to her as much as she is committed to me. and, and i felt like the guilt was eating away at me, you know? i wasn’t thinking straight.” jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a last ditch effort to prevent himself from sobbing. “it just… consumed me? like i was drowning… and all i could smell and taste was the saltwater.”
“i see,” yoongi sighs, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers infront of his stomach as he finds the right words to say. “that’s a normal response. our brain is a very complex friend… but you know, everything i’ve been through as myself and as a part of our team, hmmm, they taught me that there are times when a problem doesn’t necessarily need a solution per se. you just keep going until the fog clears up and then you move past it.”
fuck, jungkook needs a glass of whiskey. or two. or twelve. he listens intently despite seeming like he’s spacing out.
“this won’t last forever and time slips away from us without us even noticing. you should do what you want to do. if we’re going to deprive ourselves of good things, what will we have left after everything is over? money we can’t spend in one lifetime? there’s no happiness in that.”
yoongi frowns, wishing he could do more to alleviate the weight hanging on jungkook’s shoulders.
“you deserve love outside all the noise, too. focus on the present which you can still control and deal with the future when it arrives. if you do otherwise, you’ll just be tormenting yourself… and i know it’s easier said than done but! do you want to hear something i’ve had on my mind lately?”
with a flushed face and swollen eyes, he tilts his head to curiously spy on his hyung.
“what is it?”
“your motivation to work out after our shows is so you can stay awake and spend time with her. that’s why you fall asleep everywhere else. do you know how scary and endearing it is to watch that? is that what you call ‘not being committed enough’?”
yoongi fails to hide his gummy smile, body vibrating with silent laughter as pictures of jungkook falling asleep standing up flash before his eyes.
“seriously, you punk! you scare me! i just pass out and die straight after while you- really, you’re really unbelievable. i envy you. for being able to love with everything you have until they break your heart. i mean it!”
“but i’m the one who broke their heart this time.” jungkook somberly utters in defeat, bottom lip jutting out and chin quivering.
yoongi encouragingly pats his shoulder, shaking his body lightly. ”you can make it up to her. she’ll reach out before we leave. have some more patience.”
jungkook’s eyes turn into slits, suspiciously squinting at the man sitting beside him. “why do you sound so sure?”
“because she loves you. why else?”
you automatically pause from eating cup ramyeon when your phone lights up on top of the journals you’ve been reviewing for the past hour.
“ah, shit! shit!”
you abruptly cover your mouth with your hand, exhausted eyes watering because you accidentally bit your tongue after reading the name of the sender of your newest text notification. you take sips of cold water, peering at your phone as you do so. your hands itch to type out a response, but the screen dies and turns black, another of yoongi’s messages in the same pile of unanswered ones from your friends checking up on you tonight. you can’t talk to anyone right now; you need to get shit done.
after eating your dinner at the convenience store, you come home to a plastic of fried chicken hanging on the doorknob of your front door.
Eat lots and stay healthy! I’m feeding Jungkook well too. Don’t worry. — Yoongi
you peel off the blue handwritten note, sticking it on the cover of one of your books. you carefully carry the food using your free hand, and you can feel it radiating on your skin, the heat of a freshly-cooked meal. you were always worried of being a bother when you occasionally ask him how jungkook is doing on tour, but this made your heart significantly lighter. gaining a good friend after losing your lover, perhaps life can show a smidge of mercy when it wants to.
too bad you’ve always been one to be greedy.
“ah, seriously. why did you have to break up with ___?”
“we’ve been through this a million times!” jungkook exclaims in exasperation as he fiddles with the controller, bumping his knee with taehyung’s. “focus. you’re supposed to be helping me forget.”
“i don’t remember agreeing to that.” taehyung responds with a shrug, smirking when he picks up a booster and runs past his friend’s character. “you finally found someone who could put up with you and you let them go? i won’t let you forget.”
jungkook scoffs, eyes rolling upwards. “bro, i should be the least of your problems.”
“nuh-uh.” taehyung tuts with a grin, belly aching with laughter when jungkook’s car jumps over his to steal the lead. he didn’t even know that was possible. he plans on using the same trick against him later. “i’m making you my biggest problem so i don’t have to deal with mine.”
“they’re not married yet. you still have a chance, you know?”
“yah!” he gapes at jungkook in shock, entirely forgetting about the game. “take that back!”
“don’t act like you haven’t thought of it!”
“yeah, but i don’t say it out loud. it sounds too wrong! i still have my morals left!” he cries out, stomping his feet on the floor.
jungkook lightly punches his arm, eyebrows pinched in confusion. “i meant you have a chance if they break up. i have morals too! what do you think of me?!”
“oh…” taehyung blinks. “you know who else have probably thought of that too, though?”
“who?” jungkook boredly questions as he scrolls through the game collection, contemplating about which one to play next.
“all the other people waiting in line for ___.”
the realization renders him motionless, stirring up the possessiveness coursing through his veins. for the love of god, he doesn’t want to be petty but that struck a nerve. he wants to storm out of the house and look for you, beg on his knees for you to take him back.
“aish, hyung, you’re driving me crazy! why would you tell me that? are we torturing each other?!”
“are you crying? yah, jungkook-ah.” taehyung watches his hunched figure with a guilty wince, hesitant hands rubbing the expanse of his back. “i’m sorry- i’m sorry… do you want a hug?”
jungkook stays quiet, head hanging low to hide his face crumpling with anguish. the loose but affectionate hug that he gets pulled into prompts him to fall apart, catharsis blossoming in his ribcage and turning his bones into jelly.
he hears obnoxiously loud sniffles, and he abandons taehyung’s shoulder to look at his face. “are you crying, too?”
“stop ruining the moment.” taehyung groans, forcefully pushing down his head again.
namjoon comes out from his bedroom in search for another extension cord, still sipping on the half-empty iced americano he took from the fridge only ten minutes ago. the heartfelt scene on the couch causes him to halt on his tracks. how did they go from playing games to crying together? he silently observes the two members for a moment before deciding to approach them.
“what am i going to do with the two of you?” he grunts, ruffling his hair in frustration. “shall we go out for drinks to disinfect your wounded hearts?”
the mention of alcohol makes them perk up, jungkook’s tearful doe eyes sparkling at the prospect of temporarily erasing the pain that has uncontrollably spread throughout his system. he wants to drink until he forgets that he has hands, until he forgets what it feels like to touch you.
“thanks, monie-hyung. i’ll have my appetizer.”
and the iced americano gets snatched away from namjoon’s unsuspecting hand within the blink of an eye.
“this is not a barbecue restaurant.” you stare blankly at the orange neon lights spelling out the name of the night club your friends secretly conspired to bring you to.
“___, loosen up! the fastest way to move on is to find someone else. this is the best place for that.” aera turns around from the passenger seat of the taxi, her red lips painting a thrilled smile. “just forget about jungkook. we all knew this shit was going to happen. i’m surprised you even lasted that long!”
“i don’t know what you’re trying to imply but i don’t appreciate your tone.” you warn her with a sharp, threatening look. “and the ‘someone else’ that i found at a bar before turned out to be biggest fucking jerk i’ve ever met. i’m not doing this again.”
“things might be different this ti-” mi-ran aids in persuading you, but it only adds fuel to the fire.
“oh my god! fuck off!” you yell in irritation, aggressively getting off the car and slamming the door shut on their faces.
you never look back, ignoring the shouts of your name and half-assed apologies. you don’t have the slightest idea about where you’re going — your feet have a mind of their own and they chose to go the opposite way of home. this isn’t how you envisioned your night. you just wanted to listen to the sound of the meat grill and complain about life giving you a taste of true love just to cut your tongue with it until you bled. was that too much to ask?
you’re about ninety percent certain that you just lost two of whom you treated to be your closest friends. you think of ah-young, and you briefly consider crashing at your best friend’s band practice, but you’re too exhausted to travel to the other end of the city.
with eleven seconds left in the timer, you cross the street with swift and long strides alongside a crowd consisting mostly of employees wearing the same navy blue uniform. at last, you’re among the bright and lively restaurants, the inviting smell of good food making your stomach sting with hunger.
it’s only taehyung who recognizes you when you unknowingly pass by, almost choking on his glass of somaek, the combination of soju and beer. with his career on the line, he is confident that he can recognize that balenciaga windbreaker anywhere and anytime. meanwhile, instead of talking about you, the youngest is drunkenly reminiscing about the alleged ghost encounters he had in their old dorms. their leader is tragically left to tend to the grill alone. he deeply regrets not dragging any of the older members with them.
“everyone, i think i just saw __-”
a grimace of cluelessness is plastered on taehyung’s face when jungkook claps once, enthusiastically pointing at him as if he just announced something inspiring and life-changing.
“you’re right, you’re right! that’s it! what i’m kind of trying to say here is…” he pauses, facial muscles relaxing into a gloomy expression. he sniffles and rubs his nose, making it a brighter shade of red. “when we move houses again, i won’t have stories like these to bring with me. the new ghosts will be my memories with ___.”
none of the other two dares to speak after that, the oddly satisfying sound of meat being grilled and the chattering from other tables occupy the uneasy and heavy silence. instead, they begin filling their own shot glasses with pure soju. namjoon is the first one to spill it down his throat, slamming it on the table before dishing out his phone from his pocket. by this time, all of them are already drunk, double vision blurry and speech a little slurred. they gave up on counting the green bottles and cans of beer a long while ago.
“shit, that was a good metaphor. i need to write that down.”
“namjoon-hyung, he’s crying again!”
jungkook’s head slumps on the table with a thud, hot tears escaping down to his temple as he laments. “i miss her so much. why did i have to break up with her the second we got home? why…? am i so impulsive? what do i do if… if she agrees that we- h-how am i supposed to live with myself after that…? i’m never going to love again.”
they shuffle apprehensively on their seats, but still, they tell jungkook what he needs to hear since he won’t remember tonight’s events, anyway.
that’s not going happen. she just needs some more time. i’m sure she’s missing you too. everything will be okay.
but it’s been almost two weeks of radio silence. their flight is in nine days, drawing nearer and nearer as if it’s purposely taunting jungkook. everyone is thinking the same thing, and everyone is afraid to say it out loud.
it’s 7am when his work alarm goes off. with a disgruntled noise, a hungover jungkook drowsily drags himself out of bed, eyes still closed as he swings the bedroom door open.
“oing?” he creates a noise of confusion when his arm bumps against an object. he blinks at the brown paper bag hanging on his doorknob, removing one of the handles to peek at its contents.
he buffers for a moment, staring blankly at his belongings safely tucked inside. there’s his black mini bluetooth speaker, tinted lipbalm, wired earphones, bucket hat, facial cleanser, moisturizer, and shampoo. these are everything he left on top of your study desk and in your bathroom. neatly folded on the side is his windbreaker, which he recalls as clear as daylight, how you reveled in its comfort the last time that you were together. the fabric softener you use has replaced his perfume, the cherry scent forming a rain cloud of nostalgia and longing above his head.
if this is a nightmare, he is begging for somebody, anybody, to break into the room and to bring him someplace where hope is not desolate.
his wounded heart, as his namjoon-hyung described, is experiencing an excruciating pain he never even imagined was possible. he now understands, why the broken heart syndrome is a real thing.
he can’t read you. is this your way of ‘reaching out’? have you kicked him out of your house, out of your life? for good?
the dread of losing you forever is gnawing at his insides. nausea almost succeeds in knocking him off his feet. his brain hisses with static. he panics at the disgustingly familiar sensation brewing in his digestive system, sprinting to the bathroom to spill out his guts.
they say that you don’t realize what you have until you lose it. that early morning, jungkook realizes that he’s only a human being after all.
“when did i put that there?”
you’re sorting out your dirty laundry after showering when you notice a tissue paper tucked in the front pocket of your denim jeans. you huff out a sigh, ripping it apart into tiny pieces over the trash bin with raging vexation. you will never understand how men thinks that these kind of stupid tricks are supposed to compel you into seeing them anywhere near attractive and desirable in your eyes. if anything, they make you feel unsafe and if your paths cross again, you will run the other way. great. another person in the lecture room to avoid. just fucking great.
at this point, you want to mockingly laugh at your own misery. just when you thought your day couldn’t possibly get worse, it fucking does.
you tuck yourself in bed by midnight, texting a friend about your joint presentation next week, and then rereading your conversation with namjoon from this morning for the nth time. you’ve been hoping it will shine light on the right path to take, because you’re still lost and hurt.
Namjoon:
he’s been devastated since
can’t this be sorted out?
stuff’s just been overwhelming and honestly i’m as anxious as him
i'm not trying to force you into getting back together with him ofc but please talk for closure atleast..
you’re also my friend. i think you need it too..
you scroll a bit further down afterwards, and your heart drops to your stomach when you see the three dots under the contact name ‘my jungkook’. you click on it as it beckons you to, only to allow time to flow like a river with no sea to kiss, idly watching the bubble appear and disappear, appear and disappear. almost everyday, you catch a glimpse of him at the very least, typing a message and never sending it.
the same goes for tonight, it seems.
his silence is torturing you. in the car, in your inbox, in your call history. a person knocks on the door and a part of you foolishly predicts that it’s jungkook not using his copy of the key out of respect.
you succumb to the yearning, heading to your shared media and files that you’ve been actively resisting for the past three weeks… for this exact reason.
you randomly click a video sent by jungkook three months ago.
“i know you’re in class but i’m too excited to show what i got you today!” he beams at the front camera, bunny teeth cutely showing. he picks up the first item from the hotel bed with his free hand. “you already own this book but this one got a different cover, see? it’s hardback? they say it’s a limited edition.”
he eyes it fleetingly, obvious that there is something else he is dying to mention.
“i won’t show it too close. you can look at it when i go home. there’s a little surprise inside.”
he scrunches his nose before teasingly sticking his tongue out.
“and then here we haaave-”
following that, he shows you an adorable fluffy white bunny with red eyes. it occupies more than half the screen, and without a doubt, it is soft and huggable.
“cooky’s new sibling! we found it at a gift shop and hobi-hyung said it looks like me.”
he presses his cheek to the bunny’s. “i accept. we do look alike, but my eyes are so much bigger.”
in the upcoming seconds, the video is muted except for his breathing. he plops down on the bed while ruffling his dark hair, staring at the camera wordlessly, evocative of when you catch him dreamily watching you study while you’re on a videocall.
“i miss you.” he smiles sadly, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “don’t forget to text me when you’re on your way home.”
he drops on his back, the firm mattress breaking his fall.
“mmmwah!“ he kisses the camera, and your screen freezes on the final frame.
the silence in the aftermath is defeaning. you tear your glasses off your face, burying your face in the pillows. you arrive at your final decision then and there. you don’t care. you don’t care. you don’t care anymore. you cannot bear to spend more of your days like this. his things that used to live here might be gone, but you look for him everywhere. you look for his car in the parking lot. you look for his hair when you see flowers. you wait for his name to be called in the coffee shop. on your way home, you linger at the playground where you used to usually meet.
because if your relationship with jungkook is truly doomed to fail, you want to watch its foundation collapse on the ground, burnt down to gray and black ashes that disintegrate when you try to grasp them in your hands… with good grace, it’s the only way for you to believe that there’s no more home to come home to.
with a trembling hand, you press the call button and for the very first time, you beg someone to stay.
jungkook’s breathing ceases, heartbeat violently racing in his chest. the ‘chimes’ ringtone tickle his ears, his phone vibrating incessantly in his hands. the two features he specifically customized in your contact settings so he will immediately recognize that it’s you who’s calling.
it’s been four days since you dropped off his things. and here he was, laying on his bed and struggling to find the right words to say because he refuses to believe that this is how it ends. the paper bag is still hanging on the doorknob. he hasn’t touched it since the first time. he doesn’t have the courage to do so.
fuck giving you space. he wants drown himself in you and never come up for air. he’s more than willing to suffer your anger or your coldness. he’s prepared to prove himself worthy of a second chance every second of every day. he wants to occupy half of your desk and half of your closet again. he selfishly wishes to be the first and the last person you fall in love with.
but until the very end, you’re the braver one.
“love?” your voice is quiet, barely audible, but it’s there, and he hears the affectionate term of endearment distinctly. “i’m sorry. i tried, i really did, but i couldn’t do it…”
“baby,” he falters breathlessly, half of him in disbelief, convinced that he has officially lost his goddamn mind and delusion is bleeding into reality.
“i tried living without you like you wanted- but i can’t-” you hiccup in between small sobs on the other line. “i love you, jungkook. i can’t live carrying around all this love with me. it’s too heavy…”
exploding and breaking apart, jungkook’s heart is a meteor that has entered the planet’s atmosphere, and he doesn’t know where to begin digging for the fragments so he can piece himself together again.
“we are too young and we don’t know what the fuck we’re doing and i love you too much. you don’t have to protect me… i’ll take my fair share of the responsibility, so just-” he hangs on your every word, and then you pause, your following words eliciting a powerful punch to his gut. “just let me love you and let me learn my lesson the hard way… let’s do that, okay?”
the walls of him room ebbs and flows in like the sea. he rests his forearm over his eyes, his skin gradually dampening with tears. he once promised himself that he would never put you in this position. he should be the one begging for forgiveness, repenting and crawling on his knees. but rather than wasting his time with surfing through another tsunami of self-blame, he reminds himself: i want to be a better man.
“okay, baby. let’s do that, hmm? let’s do that. it’s what i want too.” he coos softly with a hoarse voice. “are you at your apartment?”
you hum in confirmation, sniffling. “come home.”
a half-naked jungkook abruptly opens the door to yoongi’s room, wearing gray sweatpants with his left arm awkwardly inserted in one of the black t-shirt’s armhole.
“hyung! can i borrow your car? mine’s getting a check-up.”
yoongi tears his eyes away from the computer, hanging the black headphones on the nape of his neck. he merely shrugs before throwing the car key, and jungkook catches it in one hand with ease.
he sighs in relief, politely bowing his upper body to express his gratitude. “thank you, hyung.”
“what are you doing?!” yoongi half-smiles with fondness, jokingly waving him off. “just go- go. leave!”
jungkook nervously stands before your front door, head woozy with anticipation and fear. what if things have changed? what if your relationship never goes back to the way it was?
“oh. you’re back together?”
he whips his head back to find your neighbor arriving home from his part-time job. huh, he just realized that he has never really learned what his name is. the only information he has on him is that his sister owns a bee farm.
“how did you even know?” he asks with knitted eyebrows. “you haven’t been giving out honey again, have you?”
“she only accepted it once.” the stranger puts his arms up in surrender with a roll of his eyes. “and don’t make her cry again, will you? she blasts sad songs late at night.”
and with an unpleasantly forceful shut of the door, jungkook is left alone in the hallway. his jaw clenches as he glares at the next apartment, but he rubs his face to release his frustration before he goes to meet you.
“we need to move in together.” he grumbles to himself as he enters your unit, relocking the door behind him. he removes his sneakers, neatly setting them down beside your pairs of shoes by the doormat.
he pads on the wooden floor with his white toe socks, looking around the dark and quiet living room. a faint orange light is seeping under the gap between the floor and the bedroom door, which he recognizes to be your favorite mode on your multi-colored nightstand lamp. he cautiously cracks the door open, and he is instantly greeted by your curled up figure, peacefully sleeping.
it’s muscle memory when he hangs his backpack on the backrest of your study chair before anything else. he also brought the paper bag you sent, putting it down on the floor.
he squats down infront of you, lightly prying away the phone you’re hugging to your chest and placing the device on the bedside table. the light is shining over your skin, and there are a thousand of photos and videos organized into the most treasured folder in his gallery, but not a single one of them will ever do you justice.
god, he missed you so much. it hasn’t been two years, but the life he had before he met you feels like an extremely distant memory.
he sighs, talking in hopes that he appears in your dreams. “how do you do this? you make it impossible not to love you.”
he unconsciously frowns at the sight of your puffy eyes. never again. never again. never again. he chants inside his head. he plants a kiss on each of your eyelids, taking his time to bask in the feeling of your weight under his lips.
he climbs on the opposite side of the bed, tucking you underneath the blanket before securely holding you from behind with his thigh hanging over yours. the warmth of your body and the scent of your shampoo cures the headache that’s been bothering him the whole day. he drifts off to sleep soon after.
the feather-light brushes through the silky locks of his hair pulls him out of his slumber half an hour later. he can make out your silhouette through his half-open eyes, the little-mermaid-like scene feels too vivid for a dream.
“why didn’t you wake me up?” you whine, sulking with a pout.
“i’m sorry.” he answers quietly, sitting up to engulf you in a tight embrace as endless apologies tumble from his tongue. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i gave up. i’m sorry that i hurt you. i’m so sorry… are you angry at me?”
“i’m upset.” you admit after a few beats, not seeing the point in sugarcoating it. “it hurts when i remember you saying that. and i understand you but… but i don’t like that you decided alone for us. if you do that again… then it will be over between us.”
he has an arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand firmly holding the back of your head. it’s a little hard to breathe, but it’s so reassuring to feel that he doesn’t want to let you out of his embrace. because you hated it — hated how it felt like letting you go was so easy.
“i regret everything. i’m sorry.” he whispers, concealing his tears by nuzzling his face on your neck. “and you’re not a burden. that’s not true.”
he knows that you mean your every word, so he lifts up his head to gaze directly into your eyes, showing that he is as sincere and true to his.
“from now on, all i’ll think about is what i can do to make you happy and safe without compromising our relationship… i’ll do better. i’ll love you better. i promise that i’ll be stronger for us. i won’t make the same mistake twice.”
you wish jungkook could be kinder to himself, treat himself with the same gentleness that comes so naturally with you. why is it that humans find loving themselves so laborious? why does being have to come with such a curse?
taking glimpses at the past, you should’ve been reminding him of these affirmations everyday.
“you don’t have to be strong all the time. i’m not asking for that.” you shake your head, voicing out yourself in a tone so soothing and illuminating. “i don’t want to go anywhere far away from you so think of yourself, too. i told you before, it’s okay to hold on to me. i’m also strong.”
jungkook feels so safe at home. he doesn’t remember what he was so worried of anymore.
“and you know what? if you really see it that way, then i’m telling you now. i want to waste my time on you. you can’t stop me.” your threatening eyes widen in conviction, provoking a sheepish smile to tug at the corners of his lips. “i always get what i want.”
“and you want me?” he innocently points at himself.
“love you.”
“i love you.” he replies, nosing at your neck before leaving a chaste kiss on your skin. “so much.”
“then put yourself in my shoes.” you hum, combing his hair with your fingers, lightly tugging to initiate eye-contact. “i want to take care of you just like how you want to take care of me. i think we have something rare and beautiful…” you pause, self-conscious about coming across as too needy now that you’re face-to-face, but an epiphany shatters your apprehension with a bow and an arrow.
this is what he needed to hear from you that day.
“so stay with me.”
jungkook’s vision becomes unfocused. he’s speechless; the only sound in the room is the humming of the airconditioner, but it’s almost as if you can hear the gears of his brain working their hardest. the pain that glossed his enchanting doe eyes has been replaced with a devotion you’ve never seen expressed so passionately in them before.
“all the time i own is yours.” he declares, cupping your face, the pad of his thumb daintily stroking your cheek. “all of it. we can do anything you want to do. let me make it up to you.”
“anything?” your face lights up with joy and mischief, and the butterflies in jungkook’s stomach come alive. he wants to make it his life’s mission to make you smile everyday; and that, he will do. “then i want you to kiss me.”
the sultriness of your enticing voice makes him go haywire. it’s been too damn long. he has forgotten what it feels like to kiss you. he slowly inches closer, his lips brushing against your lips before he pulls you in deeper, a fervent display of his yearning and apologies. he swallows the needy moan that escapes you as he slowly lays you down on the mattress, stripping off his shirt and mindlessly tossing it somewhere when you impatiently tug at it with another whimper. you cage his face in your hands, bringing back his lips on yours as if he’s the air that you breathe.
he wants to grieve for all the wasted time because everyday, he craved for this. to be honest, he forgets his name when he’s kissing you. outside, the crowds scream his name for being the best at what he does best, and he happily lives for the euphoria of it all. but in this room, there is only you and him. you communicate using the unspoken language of love with your lips. you bare the soft animal in yourselves with your teeth sinking in the other’s skin. you allow your rawest desires and truths to unravel with a slip of the tongue. he exists beyond his name, becomes an indecipherable enigma even to himself. what is the use of an explanation if there is no meaning anyway? all he knows is that he loves you despite all the reasons, against all the reasons.
he sneaks under your shirt, fingertips teasingly exploring your skin as if he’s drawing a map. he feels you quiver when he finally reaches your chest, gently kneading the soft flesh in his palm. this makes you mewl in pleasure, arching your back as your hand unconsciously curls around his wrist, the cotton fabric separating the two of you. the action electrifies jungkook, makes him lose himself a little more, which he didn’t think was still possible.
“touch me, please- jungkook. need you-” you choke out a desperate whimper, nearly sobbing as you guide his hand between your thighs. you can’t bear to spend another second untouched; the last time you made love feels like an eternity ago. he slips past the waistband of your underwear, the only article of clothing you’re wearing below. but to your disappointment, he gently caresses your hip bone instead of dipping his long fingers into your wetness.
“shh, hold on, baby-” he forces himself to break away from the kiss, swollen and red lips glistening with spit. “baby, look at me. you didn’t drink, right? i don’t want to take advantage.”
you gape at him with your chest heaving up and down, dumbfounded. “how could you even think of that right now?”
his eyes widen in panic, worried that he might’ve offended you. “no, no, no-” his palms skim your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his slim waist. you gasp when he presses up on you and his hard length rubs on your folds, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. a gush of arousal dampens the thin material covering your center.
“i want you so fucking bad that it hurts.” he gingerly wipes away the tears that you didn’t even notice streamed down to your temples. you can’t remember the last time you cried before today, they must’ve gotten tired of asking for your permission. “but you were crying when you called, baby. i had to make sure.”
“oh, my boyfriend is such a gentleman.” you muse dreamily. pepper his face with delicate kisses, lips curving upward with an adoring smile. “look at him enjoying my kisses.”
you playfully squeeze his cheeks together, making his pillowy lips pucker.
“you really wanted to break up with me in this case, huh? you wanted to live without me and my kisses? no way.”
his eyelids flutter open, and he shakes his head as he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…” his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh. “going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”
“good. you better.” your high-pitched giggles bounce off the walls as his lips trail down to your neck, licking a bold stripe over your ticklish spots. “i don’t have the patience for it, but i’ll be your trusty assistant.”
it’s ridiculous, how even the sound of your laughter turns him on even more.
jungkook learned that you finished your exams yesterday, having spent majority of the past two weeks pulling all-nighters to prepare for them. you seem to be confident about the results, the way you talked about it without concern. he never once doubted that you’re resolute and persevering, but acing your exams in the middle of a breakup is beyond what he can digest. it must’ve been a grueling experience, he can only imagine.
he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then your lips, before dragging the blanket higher over your naked figure, a thicker one he brought out from the cabinet. poor thing, you fell asleep on his lap while he was drying your hair, incoherently murmuring about how tired you are.
he walks to your study space, fixing the loosening towel wrapped around his waist. one by one, he pulls out the items from the paper bag, returning them to their old places on your desk. he toothily grins at the windbreaker, ecstatic due to his plan on wearing it at work today. he wants to give it back to you smelling like him again.
an index card lands on the ground when he unfolds it, making him peer down in curiosity.
“what’s this?” he mumbles, bending down to pick it up.
jumbled thoughts. a letter shoved at the back of the mailbox. a hesitant confession. a bittersweet reminder that says: a wound does not magically disappear overnight. it requires the proper treatment to heal correctly, and even then, it might still leave a scar.
These are only a few of many. Why is this the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? I’m usually the more logical one. Was it really so bad that we weren’t going anywhere?
and messily crossed out at the end,
I miss you.
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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please i LOVE the dynamic of flirty reader and spencer in little baby lime… could we get some more of them together? maybe with reader flirting with the team and flustered spencer again it made me giggle. also the pregnancy part was truly the cherry on top 😌 LOVE UR WRITING!!
i would’ve included henry but i wanted to keep this around sea2-3 reid.
it’s bring your kids to work day and spencer doesn’t have his kid yet, but any excuse to bring you to work he’ll take. and hotch brought jack with him and he loves to talk with you whenever there’s a silent moment.
“can i be the baby’s friend?” the young boy stood next to you while you sat in spencer’s desk chair. you smiled at the young boy as you kept rubbing soothing circles over your growing bump, “of course, but you’ll be older than them, are you okay with waiting?” watching how jack twisted his torso with his hands behind his back.
“i’ll try. my dad says patience is a very important lesson while growing up.” tilting his head to the side. you could see hints of hotch in the little face.
“it is. we practice patience every day, like i’m being very patient for my baby to arrive. and you’re probably very patience waiting for your birthday so you can have cake and presents.” reaching your hands out to start tickling the boy causing him to squirm and screech a bit too loud for a federal office.
“hey, why are we left out of the fun?” a deep voice entered the area and you stopped your attack to see hotch and spencer smiling at both of you. jack stepped closer to wrap his arms around your left bicep and lean his head to your shoulder, “cause she’s holding my new friend. and she’s pretty.” whispering the last part but with him next to your ear it was crystal clear and you couldn’t help a coo.
spencer nodded, “the prettiest.” and you rolled your eyes in a tease, “oh please, you just say that cause i have your baby.” stretching your legs out.
hotch held out his hand and jerked his head, “come on buddy, let’s leave them alone for now. y/n can see you later.” then jack looked to you quickly, “can we play later?”
“of course, but i’m very delicate right now. we don’t want to hurt your friend.” giving a tiny pat onto his cheek before he rushed to his dad’s side.
“you’re a natural already,” spencer whispered to the crown of your head before leaving a kiss. he then sat on the edge of his desk with his arms crossed over his chest.
you hummed, “and you’re gonna be so sexy being a young hot dilf. gonna need to restrain myself or else they’ll have a sibling quickly.” jumping your brows and smirking.
spencer’s eyes widened while his cheeks and ears flushed red quickly. “she always been this feisty?” derek strode up while sipping on a cup of coffee.
now you crossed your arms over your growing chest, “wouldn’t you like to know, playboy. but that train left the station and is only circling reid island.” derek chuckled lowly, “i’ll take that as a yes.”
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corroded-hellfire · 3 months
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From one ginger to the other I absolutely adore the as you wish series! <3
I was wondering if you could do something where the reader goes out with Nancy for brunch for the first time after having Eliza. And her alcohol tolerance is obviously lower than pre-Eliza. And she gets quite tipsy, and Eddie has to pick her up, and she's all over him and just spewing nonsense about how much she loves him and their family.
And she admits how much she loved having his baby, and Eddie is just totally smitten as she just keeps going on and on.
Anything for a fellow ginger! This is silly and cute and I hope you like it 🥰
Words: 1.8k
Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexy talk
[As You Wish masterlist]
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The sun brings warmth to the breezy spring day as you finish up your brunch with Nancy. It’s the first time the two of you have gotten to do this since you gave birth to Eliza. You had been aware that things would change drastically after giving birth, but you hadn’t even realized how long it had been since you and Nancy had a girl’s day until she invited you a few days ago. 
Mimosas seemed like a perfect way to celebrate when you arrived, but by the time you had finished your second glass along with your French toast, it was too late to remember that your tolerance was lower now. 
“Same thing happened after I had Danny,” Nancy tells you as you take a long sip from your water glass. “Steve and I went to a work party, and we had to leave after I had one vodka cranberry.”
“I don’t feel drunk,” you tell your friend, the lightness in your head giving you a pleasant buzz of happiness on top of the already enjoyable day. “Just tipsy. But I know I can’t drive like this. I’ll go call Eddie.”
“Are you sure?” Nancy offers. “I can just drive you home.”
You shake your head as you carefully push yourself up from the cushioned chair. 
“No, it’s okay. Wayne’s over so he can stay with the kids.” 
It is the truth, but the main reason you want Eddie to pick you up is because you really want to see your husband right now. Like a pregnancy craving for food turned into a yearning for a person, you feel as if your hands are not on Eddie within the next few minutes, you’re going to lose your mind. It’s all you can think about as you put one foot in front of the other as you walk inside the restaurant from your porch table.
The hostess shows you to a phone and your fingers eagerly skip over the familiar numbers for your home.
“Hello?”
Just the sound of his voice sends a chill throughout your body—one the warm spring day outside could never eradicate. 
“Hi, Eddie,” you say. Even you can hear the smile in your voice.
“What, baby? Are you okay?” The concern in Eddie’s voice does nothing to help the burning deep within you.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you tell him. “I had a, uh, couple of mimosas with lunch and I did not realize my alcohol tolerance would be this low after having Eliza since I haven’t drank in a while.”
There’s an exhale of relief on the other end of the phone. Eliza babbling in the background and Luke’s raucous laughter has you grinning into the mouthpiece you’re clutching on to. 
“I’ll be right there, okay?” Eddie assures you. “We’ll get your car later.”
“Okay!”
Eddie chuckles at your carefree attitude and can only imagine how cute you look right now, all smiley and bubbly. 
“I’ll see you soon, princess.”
“Okay! Bye.”
When you get back to the table, amongst the empty plates and discarded silverware, you see that Nancy has already paid the whole bill and you give her a soft glare.
“What?” she asks innocently, large eyes making it even more convincing. “I’m pretty sure you paid last time.”
“Uh huh,” you mumble as she stands up and grabs her purse. “I’m sure you remember that from, like, a year ago.”
No response from Nancy on that, she just gives you a wink and loops her arm through yours. The two of you walk arm-in-arm out to the parking lot in front of the restaurant. 
Nancy’s car is parked in the shade so there’s a coolness on your backside as you rest against the trunk of the silver Lexus. Your friend tugs a little on the cream-colored sweater she’s wearing but you wish you had Eddie’s arms around you to keep you warm. Thoughts of Eddie’s arms lead to thoughts of his hands all over you and you’re unable to keep a dreamy little hum from slipping out.
“Thinking about Eddie?” Nancy asks, though the amusement on her face says she already knows the answer.
“I’m always thinking about Eddie,” you admit with a shrug. 
“God, you two are adorable,” Nancy says, mostly to herself. 
A squeal of excitement and you hopping off the car in excitement lets the brunette next to you know that Eddie’s truck has pulled into the parking lot. It’s her clue even before the metal music can be heard soaring out of the open windows. 
Eddie leaves one hand on the steering wheel and uses the other to turn the volume dial down as he slows the truck down right behind Nancy’s car. He lifts an eyebrow and looks you up and down appreciatively. 
“Need a ride, gorgeous?” he asks.
The giggle that tumbles out of your lips has both your best friend and your husband smiling as he puts the truck in park and steps out of the car. As soon as he walks back around the bed, you throw yourself at Eddie, who catches you and lets out a surprised huff of laughter.
“Hello to you, too,” he says. Protective as always, he wraps a sturdy arm around your waist to make sure you’re steady before he looks over at Nancy. “She wasn’t any trouble, was she?”
“Nope,” Nancy says. “Ate her vegetables and went to bed on time.”
“Hey!” You pout, looking back and forth between the two of them. “I’m the babysitter, not the baby. I mean…I was the babysitter. Now I’m the Mommy.”
Your two compatriots share an amused smile before Nancy gives you a wave and gets in her car. Eddie leads you over to the passenger’s side of the truck. You have no intention of letting him go though, so you wrap your arms around his neck so he’s leaning over you in the seat.
“Uh, babe?” he says with a chuckle before realizing it’s better to just humor you. 
Rapid fire kisses get smacked all over your face which has you squirming on the spot and gets you to loosen your grip on your husband’s neck. But the moment Eddie climbs in the driver’s seat and closes the door, you lean over the center console to grab at him again. 
“Sweetheart,” he says with a laugh, amused at your touchiness, “I have to drive us home.”
Silently, you decide that’s okay because that’s where your babies are, so you let go and slip back into your own seat. The older man puts the truck into gear as you buckle your seatbelt and then he pulls out of the parking lot, onto the main road.
It’s quiet only for a matter of seconds before you speak again.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“We have the cutest family ever.”
Eddie nods his head in agreement, trying to keep his laughter inside lest you think he’s laughing at you.
“Absolutely,” he agrees.
“And it’s because you’re so cute!” you gush, throwing your hands in the air with a dramatic flourish that Luke would be proud of. “What do Ryan, Luke, and Eliza all have in common? Your genes! That’s why they’re so stinkin’ adorable.” You sigh dreamily and rest your head against the headrest as you gaze at your husband. “You’re such a DILF.”
Eddie can’t help but let out a bark of laughter at that and looks your way as you pull up to a red light. Glee dances in his eyes as he tilts his head. 
“Isn’t that ‘Dad I’d like to fuck?’” he asks. “You have fucked me, baby. Many, many times.”
“Fine. You’re a DIHF.” The different pronunciation has a raspberry blowing out of your mouth at the end of the word. “‘Dad I have fucked.’”
This is the most entertained I have been in so long, Eddie thinks to himself as the light turns green. It only reinforces the insane amount of love he has for you, and he feels the need to reach over and hold your hand. Luckily, yours is resting on your thigh now so he does just that. Softly, his thumb begins to stroke the back of your hand. 
“M’so happy, Eddie.”
“Good,” he says, “I’m glad you had a good time with Nancy. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to go out.”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I mean, yes, I am happy because I got to spend time with Nancy today but that’s not what I was talking about. I meant that I’m so happy cause I got you and the boys and little Liza. Best things that ever happened to me.”
“I feel the same way, princess.”
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“I really, really loved having your baby.”
Eddie can’t help the big grin that stretches across his face at your words. God, he could never hear that enough from you. 
“I had something that was half you and half me growing inside me,” you explain as if Eddie doesn’t know what being pregnant entails. “It felt crazy. But like, a good way. Like, I couldn’t believe it was happening. A little piece of you right here.” Your free hand pats your lower abdomen and when Eddie glances over he sees you looking down at that part of your body.
“I wanna do it again.”
Eddie almost swerves off the road at those words.
“Huh?” he asks, hand tightening on yours.
“I wanna have your baby again! I mean, not right now. Fucking hell, my vagina would fall out having babies so close together like that. Ow.”
“Jesus Christ, I love you,” Eddie raves. “But yeah, we don’t want your vagina falling out. Pretty sure we both really, really like that part of you.”
A sly smile grows on your lips as Eddie turns the truck into your neighborhood. You know it’s a little mean to turn your husband on when you’re about to go home to a house full of kids and his uncle, but you just can’t help it. You’re having fun and it’s alcohol-induced and Eddie’s done way worse things while under the influence. 
“Well,” you start innocently, “maybe if my vagina hurt you could kiss it better?”
“Fuck,” Eddie growls, glancing over at you. “Really gonna do this now?”
The maniacal giggle you let out already has Eddie forgiving you, his heart soaring with how much love he feels. He’d let you tease him and taunt him until the end of time. And God knows you’re the only one allowed to. But that makes it even better, Eddie thinks, because then he gets a pass to act as an over-protective asshole once in a while when the jealousy monster rears its ugly head. It’s a fair trade you can both live with. And if Eddie’s cross to bear is you getting him all worked up when there’s no time to do anything about it, he thinks he’s pretty damn lucky. 
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irisintheafterglow · 11 months
Text
blood moonlit, must be counterfeit
summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes. (pro!bakugo x you)
wc: 1.68k
cw/tags: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol
note: NEW HALLOWEEN HEADER BABY also this idea had me by the throat so i needed to write it down before it consumed my entire psyche. i'm back to writing for bakugo again because iykyk and halloween fics are giving me a lot of motivation right now. hope you enjoy!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“I have to admit–your costume is pretty damn good.”
“Yeah? Just ‘pretty good?’”
“Mhmm. Almost looks like the real thing,” you remark, taking another sip of the dangerously sweet jungle juice in your cup. It's an unreadable mix of bad ideas and bold flirtation, perfect for a Halloween party of barely 21 adults. The blonde guy beside you on the worn leather couch tilts his head slightly like he's re-affirming what you just said in his mind. “I think the real Dynamight would be impressed.”
“Would he, now,” he huffs under his breath, mouth curling into an unreadable smirk. He exhales a quick breath of what you think is amusement through his nose, eyes flicking over your body for the umpteenth time since he sat down with you. It makes your face heat up and you casually avert your gaze downward, catching more details of his costume that you didn’t notice before. 
The gauntlets were obviously the star of the arrangement, covered in numerous scratches, burns, and dents that attested to their “battle” usage. The boots were impressive, too, and you wondered how long it took to place every individual orange eyelet over the front of each calf. The cinder block rectangles sitting on his broad shoulders truly looked like real stone, solid like the toned muscle holding them up. It was the domino mask that threw you off the most, though. The guy must have been wearing bright red contacts, or something, because to look so similar to the actual Pro should have been considered a crime. 
“Who’d you come to the party with?”
“Just some friends,” he replies, shrugging an infuriatingly sexy shoulder. His entire look was putting the real Dynamight to shame, in your opinion. He nods upward in the direction of a guy in an equally accurate Deku costume standing with a very convincing Shoto lookalike. “They dared me to wear this and I lost the bet.”
“Must have been some bet, if you’re moping over here like a toddler.” The shrewdness of your words escapes you until they’re already past your lips; thankfully, he just smirks again and leans his head back, resting an arm on the back of the sofa.
“I’ll ignore that you said that, 'cause you're clearly intoxicated” he mutters, shooting you a brutal side-eye. Thanks to the alcohol, though, you’re far from deterred. 
“How gracious,” you chuckle and his smirk gets a little more arrogant. “What was the bet?”
“Some dumb drinking contest. That asswipe in the green can put down more shots than he looks.” He scowls and you fight down the urge to giggle at his bitter expression. He was the only guy you’ve ever seen that could make a grumpy face look hot. The only guy besides Bakugo himself, of course. “I wouldn’t have worn this shit to a party to save my life.”
“What, Dynamight isn’t your favorite Pro?”
“I’m more of an All Might guy,” he replies nonchalantly. He appreciates the classic heroes. Good sign. “If I had to choose a different one, I’d probably say Jeanist.”
“Jeanist is pretty cool. My best friend had a cardboard cutout of Eraserhead in her closet growing up.” He barks out a laugh and it startles you, but a mysterious feeling in your stomach wants to make him do it again. “What do you think of the current gen of heroes?” He hums thoughtfully, running his tongue over his top lip and you swallow back your drool.
“Red Riot’s a good guy. Deku pisses me the fuck off, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Same thing with Pinky and that Half-and-Half asshat. Chargebolt…” His expression turns into a frown so deep you’re worried that Chargebolt killed his family or something heinous like that. 
“What about him?”
“He’s just dumb. If given the choice between his life and a grain of sand, I’d take the sand,” he deadpans and you choke unexpectedly, wincing as your drink travels up the wrong tube and into your nose. His eyes widened in concern, reaching out to pat your back but deciding against it at the last moment. His glove-covered hands hover around you like you’re radioactive matter, carefully watching as you regain your composure. “You good, nerd?” Uses the same vocabulary as the real guy, too. Kind of weird, but I guess we all have our idols. 
“Yeah, I’m good. I just didn’t expect you to badmouth him like you two were friends from high school or something,” you joke lightheartedly and the guy blinks at you twice before computing what you said. 
“It’s whatever. They’re super fuckin’ easy to read, in any case,” he states with an air of finality and you down the rest of your drink, the dim lighting starting to blur everything around you into a single greenish-orange blob. “What about you? What are your thoughts on the new gen?”
“I can’t make such bold judgments as you, but I do think Dynamight is pretty cool,” you admit, suddenly feeling a little bashful when having the same question turned on you. The truth was, you followed the lives of the heroes a bit too closely than the average person should. It fascinated you so much that you were majoring in Quirk-specific journalism, studying the social and economic consequences of being a Pro. “I think his public persona is an interesting case when compared to other heroes.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’d like to imagine that he’s not always the loud, arrogant, obnoxious piece of shit that the press shows,” you start and narrow your eyes in confusion when he flinches at your description. You continue anyway but choose your words a little more carefully. Probably isn’t good to upset the guy who might have fashioned functioning gauntlets, if the costume truly is accurate. “There’s a side to him that I think the public doesn’t know about and doesn’t care to know about, since it’s easier to understand him as a loudmouth with no sense of manners. I just wonder who that guy is under all the yelling and testosterone.” His silence is deafening and you worry that you somehow offended him, but his tone is so gentle that your assumption becomes an impossibility.
“Seems like you’ve given this guy a great deal of thought,” he says lowly, voice barely audible over the sound of the blaring house music. 
“Well, he is my favorite,” you add quietly, not expecting him to catch what you said. He does, though, and that mischievous smirk returns to his face. Somehow, you two had inched closer together over the course of your conversation, and you were now close enough to smell his cologne. It was something deep and smoky, with a surprise note of sweetness, like caramel. “I’ve been following his hero career since I was in high school.”
“I didn’t take you for a superfan, but I do appreciate your support,” he chuckles and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You seriously haven’t figured it out?”
“Figured what out?”
“That I’m Dynamight, stupid. This is my actual costume and those are my actual friends. Hell, I'm paying for this whole shitty party,” he says incredulously, genuinely shocked that you didn’t come to that conclusion already. Your skepticism, however, rears its head and you burst out into rude laughter. 
Dynamight? Yeah, right. More like Dyna-maybe. 
“Excuse me?” He stares at you like you’d grown three heads and your heart drops into your stomach. You must have said your thoughts out loud. Fuck! “You’ve got some nerve, testing the patience of a Pro.” His words, under any other circumstances, would have cut down your pride like a knife. However, his eyes were conveying a different story, one of lust and want and holyshityouwantedhim. “Got anything to say, sweetheart? Or are you gonna just keep gaping like a fuckin’ goldfish?” You abruptly snap your jaw back into place, leaning your head into your hand and smiling in triumph when his gaze again uncontrollably rakes over your body.  
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“See what, gorgeous?”
“That a Pro kisses better than a normal person,” you murmur and his pupils blow to the size of pool balls. He wastes no time, gently but firmly grabbing your chin with two fingers and pulling your mouth onto his. His lips are ridiculously soft and you muster up the courage to bite him softly, heartbeat racing when he groans into your mouth. One arm drapes itself over the back of the couch, the other pulling you as close to him as humanly possible without practically sitting on him. Your hand combs through his hair and the other keeps him on you by the back of his neck.
Right when you run out of breath, he pulls away and swears colorfully at the phone buzzing in his pocket, answering it with one hand while his forearm is still pressed against your lower back. You absentmindedly trace his jawline with a finger while he curses out the person on the other line, eventually chucking the device over his shoulder like it was the last thing he was thinking about. “You need to go somewhere, sweetheart?” He lightly pinches your side at your mockery and you jump, flicking his forehead in defiance. 
“Nah, that was a job for Dynamight. Right now, I guess I’m still fuckin' Dyna-maybe,” he rasps and leans back in to kiss you again but you push his face away, giving him as sober of a look as possible. “What?”
“If you need to go kick ass, then go kick ass. I’m just some random makeout at a party,” you remind him, painfully aware of the sting if he was to leave you alone. His expression contorts into indignancy again but you still try to convince him to alleviate whatever situation he was called in for. “Your job is more important than a hookup.”
“I don’t do hookups, dumbass. I’m interested in you,” he states plainly and your face is set on fire. The Pro, who you just insulted to his face, was interested in you? “So, let’s get out of here, yeah? I can make you dinner that isn’t shitty pizza.” His mouth breaks into a devilish grin and you’re already grabbing onto his hand like your life depended on it. 
“If someone messes with us?”
“It’s a good thing I’m already in costume.” 
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