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orchidyoonkook · 5 days

Text

PG | KTH

Title: PG

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point.

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends.

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother.

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out.

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too.

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two.

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay.

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him.

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long.

Every time you could get it.

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team.

For four years.

And then the university swim team.

For another four.

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then.

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would.

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim.

Thank god for sunglasses.

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you.

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet?

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile.

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong.

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you.

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung.

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt.

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that.

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more.

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught.

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt.

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart.

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water.

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool.

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days.

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun.

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really.

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped.

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking.

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that.

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches.

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets.

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?”

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat.

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes.

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?”

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him.

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager.

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit.

And it works like a charm.

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that.

Definitely not.

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again.

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding.

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air.

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend.

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say.

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand.

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end.

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother.

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction.

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen.

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool.

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel.

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins.

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you.

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch.

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge.

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell.

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims.

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven.

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday.

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for.

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids.

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you.

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed.

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break.

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you.

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually.

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit.

So, with quickly shrinking fifteen feet between you two, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer.

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks.

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close.

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you.

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there.

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed.

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends.

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays.

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating.

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother.

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall.

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent.

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained.

And yet.

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot.

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you.

But you push him away.

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t.

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend.

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’.

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more.

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment.

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air.

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages.

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself.

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did.

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left.

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist.

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think.

Because Fourteen isn't here.

And old habits die hard.

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt.

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising.

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner.

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him.

Safe.

You’re safe.

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body.

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous.

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years.

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung.

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan.

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety.

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions.

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight.

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood.

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor.

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment.

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by.

It’s private.

It’s safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?”

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now.

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth.

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth.

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed.

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back.

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it.

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him.

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black.

Oh you are so fucked.

“As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like.

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine.

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once.

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up.

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth.

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips.

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does.

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes.

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck.

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows, the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing.

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it.

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine.

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it.

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night.

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere.

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you.

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone.

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part.

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently.

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end.

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.”

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders.

It makes you smile wickedly.

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw.

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you.

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick.

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything.

Yet.

“Can you behave for that long?”

You smirk.

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe.

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well.

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby.

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need.

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs.

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae.

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky.

Mesmerizing.

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his.

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him.

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge.

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat.

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure.

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you.

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks.

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips.

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees.

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it.

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well.

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you.

Taehyung.

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung.

Wants you.

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving.

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned.

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side.

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming.

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess.

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis.

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes.

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body.

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again.

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time.

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pour in your body. The damningly deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed.

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again.

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it.

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out.

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth.

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time.

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents.

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact.

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.”

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine.

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks.

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.”

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled.

Blissful.

Then pushes back in, methodically.

Torturous.

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is.

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over.

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas.

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well.

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you.

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough.

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own.

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless.

It’s a great move but it’s exerting.

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone.

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around.

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass.

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain.

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance.

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you.

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care.

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane.

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be.

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you.

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion.

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and drown in once another’s embrace.

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another.

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect.

Before consequences kick in and regrets form.

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets.

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning.

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away.

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning.

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out.

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies.

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground.

“All of it. Any of it.”

There.

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him.

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened.

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts.

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself.

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion.

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg.

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place.

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move.

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right.

An idea strikes.

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door.

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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author-ssi · 20 days

Text

Singing in the Shower ~JJK

➜Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

➜Genre: Smut, One-Shot

Warnings: Description of Jungkook's body (and yeah that deserves a warning!), reader is feral for Jungkook (and who can blame her?), Jungkook is more than happy to indulge her (both orally and sexually). if you've taken all the hints in the warnings, then you're more than ready to start reading! [MDNI 18+]

➜Word Count: 2k

➜Summary: Post-workout Jungkook takes too long in the shower since he's apparently too carried away with singing rather than washing up. At the start, you have all the patience to wait for him; until you get frustrated... sexually.

"I'm done. I'm gonna get a shower", a shirtless Jungkook leans against the doorframe of your shared bedroom.

You glance up from your phone, your eyes immediately transfixing on his bare chest for a good minute before trailing down to his low-waisted jeans, the CK underwear waistband peeking through.

Thank God for that collab...

"Why did you work out while wearing jeans? You have a closet full of sweatpants".

When he answers that it was because he decided to work out on impulse, you simply shake your head in disbelief.

Classic Jungkook doing things on a whim.

"Alright, go. I'll wait for you so we can sleep together", you shoo him away, a soft smile gracing your lips nonetheless.

Jungkook chuckles before he slowly strides up to you.

You don't miss the way his bicep flexes when he presses his one hand on the bed, leaning over to lay a short but somewhat promising kiss on your lips.

"Mm, I'll be quick", he hums playing with his lip piercing, not drawing away from your lips just yet.

"You better", you whisper leaving another, equally promising kiss on his lips seizing the opportunity to briefly touch his broad chest, in the guise of playfully shoving him away from you.

He chuckles as he walks backwards, slightly cracking his knuckles, which causes his biceps to flex - a sight your eyes don't fail to miss yet again.

Except this time, he catches you in the act...

Smirking smugly, he winks at you before disappearing from the doorframe. You swear the teasing of this man will be the end of you!

~~~~

Alas, what you expected to be a few minutes of waiting, soon turned into a whole hour!

Honestly, you should have known by now that when the sound of the water running is accompanied by Jungkook's singing of various songs, his short shower session is bound to turn into an hour-long bathroom concert.

Most times, you just leave him to it; simply enjoying the sound of his melodic voice echoing through the bathroom walls and eventually reaching your ears.

However, his previous teasing has significantly lessened your patience making you daring enough to become a bit shameless.

Getting out of bed, you start to discard every item of clothing off your body while you make a beeline for your stalling boyfriend.

Upon entering the bathroom, you bite your lip at the sight of his bulky silhouette showing through the steamed-up shower glass doors.

"Mommy don't know Daddy's getting hot... at the body shop... doing something unholy".

Jungkook's too lost in his singing to notice you sliding into the shower.

What a coincidence; the title of the song totally matches your current thoughts about him.

You barely stifle a cheeky giggle at that, before you extend your hand towards him, grazing your fingertips over his shoulder blades and then sliding them down his spine.

Jungkook instantly halts his singing as if he suddenly forgot all the following lyrics, but still, he doesn't turn to face you.

Instead, he closes his eyes as he relishes the feeling of your hands running up and down his bare back, noticing how your breath gets heavier with each move.

When he finally turns around, what he comes to witness has his unrestrained cock instantly hardened.

You look absolutely erotic.

Your naked body has been decorated with water droplets from the shower that's still running behind him.

Your eyes have darkened - gaze so heated it sends blood right down his cock.

You were never the type of girlfriend to hide just how much you lusted over your boyfriend and that's one of the things he adores about you. In private (and sometimes in public too) you never attempted to conceal your thirst over his body and even if he'd tease you endlessly for it, in the end, he always indulged you.

Even now, he's almost tempted to make you beg for it and watch you slowly give yourself up to him.

Almost is the keyword here, because honestly right now, he is too horny for that...

His lips devour your own.

God, this man really knows how to kiss...

Your lips weave together perfectly in sync.

Jungkook's large hand slides from your neck to the side of your face, ultimately nestling in your damp hair.

Your arms snake under his own latching onto his massive back, dragging your fingers over the prominent muscles.

He hums against your mouth pressing his lips harder against your own, causing you to let out a breathless whine.

Hearing your voice seems to spur him on to slowly probe his tongue into your mouth.

One hand still tangled up in your hair, he presses his other on the small of your back finally pulling you flash against him.

You shiver at the contact, triggered not just by his wet skin but also by the intimate closeness you two suddenly share.

Too lost in the kiss, your legs step closer to him, your body pushing further up against him.

As a result, his own body moves back to the point where his back comes into contact with the bathroom tiles.

Their coolness causes him to grunt against your lips, his grip on you tightening, yet he refuses to break off your deep kiss.

By the time your mouth reluctantly parts from his, you're both breathless.

Jungkook's eyes trail down your heaving chest, a smirk playing over his lips at the way your perked nipples are rubbing against him.

"Come here, baby", he beckons with a low voice before he switches places with you so that you're the one whose back is currently pressed up against the bathroom tiles.

"Let me appreciate you", he hums eagerly laying a small, wet kiss on your jaw. He then leans over to your neck, starting to leave open-mouthed kisses and gentle nibbles on the skin.

Endless moans start spilling out of your mouth as he continues to ravish you, moving lower and lower until you realise that he's now kneeled in front of your pelvis.

With bated breath, you gaze down at him awaiting his next move; your bedroom eyes are more than enough for him to know exactly what you want him to do to you.

His tongue darts out to lick his lips suggestively and your thighs quiver impatiently, in desperate need of his face between them.

"Jungkook", you whine swaying your hips towards him, practically pleading for him.

"I know baby, I know", he coos at you pressing a wet kiss on each of your thighs, enjoying the way they once again quiver in need.

Finally heeding your plea, he flattens his tongue before sliding it over your folds, groaning contentedly at the sweet taste of your arousal.

You gasp, muscles going taut, as the pleasure spreads throughout your whole body.

"Let me hear you, baby", he rasps against your pussy, now starting to properly eat you out.

You don't need to be asked twice.

Your fingers tangled in his short hair, you lean your head back letting soft moans spill from your lips again.

Jungkook touches the blade of his tongue on your clit before starting to suck on it, earning the sweetest, little cry from you.

His eyes set on you, the intensity of his gaze being the testament to his fervour in pleasing you.

It's not until he starts rapidly lapping at your folds, like a man starved, that you feel the pulsation of your approaching orgasm.

"Jungkook, I'm about to-", you attempt to warn him but he seems to already know what you're about to say.

"Mm, yeah I know you love this, baby. I know this will make you cum".

He quirks his pierced eyebrow at you, giving your thighs a tight squeeze before getting back into it.

Your hips heatedly stutter when your entire body finally dissolves into pleasure, Jungkook gripping your thighs tightly to keep you in place so he can help you ride out your orgasm.

He swears he could gaze at your beautiful blissed-out face forever.

But he's not done with you yet...

"Why don't you turn around for me, baby?", he smacks his lips sloppily against your flushed pussy, making you jump at the sensitivity still too dazed by that orgasm.

And yet, unsteady as you are, you comply as you turn to face the bathroom wall.

Meanwhile, Jungkook has stood back up to position you properly; guiding your palms to rest against the white tiles and your back to arch towards them.

Oh, you're in such capable hands...

Soon, the sound of hips snapping against hips starts to resonate in the bathroom.

Jungkook grips your love handles tightly to keep you steady as your breasts are now pushed up against the bathroom wall.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good".

A loud whine is the only response he gets from you in return as you rest your cheek against the cold tiles, keeping your back arched for him.

Removing one hand from gripping you, he runs his fingers down the length of your back making you shudder.

But you know this serene stimulation isn't meant to last for long.

After all, Jungkook isn't known to be a patient man...

The sound of a slap echoes through the bathroom and the pleasurable sting on the skin of your ass signals the first signs of Jungkook's impatience.

Still, it catches you off guard.

Instinctively, you push yourself off the wall, your back now up against his chest.

"Didn't see that coming, huh baby?", he teases you before burying his entire length inside your pussy.

Gasping, you latch onto his shoulders in an attempt to keep your balance.

He immediately notices, wrapping one of his strong arms around your waist.

"Jungkook, kiss me", you pant angling your face to find his mouth.

Both your lips and bodies now joined as one, the two of you relish in the shared intimacy.

However, your current position soon alerts you of how uncomfortable it actually is.

Once again, reading into your discomfort, Jungkook draws the kiss to an end before slowly pulling out of you as well.

You whine in spite of yourself, bothered by the sudden feeling of emptiness, and quickly turn around to latch yourself onto him again.

Jungkook lets out an amused chuckle and grabs onto your hips, easily lifting you up against him and trapping you between himself and the wall.

You're about to wrap your legs around his waist, but the moment he fills you with his cock, you let out a hum feeling them go limp.

"Hold onto me, baby, yeah?", he urges you as his grip, now on your thighs, tightens and you wrap your arms around his shoulders instead.

When he starts thrusting into you again, setting a rhythmic pace, this time you rest your forehead on his, your soft moans mingling with his light groans.

"You'll give me one more, won't you baby? Such a good girl for me".

If you weren't already close by his cock rocking into you, you'd surely come undone just by those words of his.

"Yes, I'm gonna cum, Jungkook-", you gasp feeling the familiar waves of pleasure wash over you, bringing your orgasm ashore.

It feels as if your body melts against him and you relax yourself against him, gently hugging him.

"I'm not done yet", he states picking your almost limp body up and carrying you out of the bathroom.

His statement barely registers in your hazy post-orgasm mind, so your gullible self chooses to ignore it as you wrap your arms and legs against him, nuzzling your face against his neck.

He grabs a towel, one hand remaining around you to support your weight, and then heads back to your bedroom.

Spreading the towel over your sheets, Jungkook lays you on them and climbs over above you, eagerly guiding his cock to your entrance.

Your eyes, droopy from the previous pleasure, now widen in surprise.

"Jungkook, you can't mean-", you're about to protest when his eyes laser into yours, a predatory instinct shining in them.

"I said I'm not done yet".

#bts #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook #smut #bts smut #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #singing in the shower #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n

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wileys-russo · 2 months

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Emily Fox, “So… Do you actually like me—” “We have been together for seven years. We’re getting married next year. What the hell do you think?”, while house hunting

house hunting II e.fox

"-and this is the last one for today?" your fiance asked as the real estate agent arrived, parking behind the two of you in the driveway and hurrying out of the car with arms laden full of papers.

"yes the last one for today. but if you're not feeling it we can organize some more for mid next week!" the woman assured, fumbling around to find the keys as you slipped your hand into emilys and squeezed gently.

"i know its been a long day, but this could be the one." you reminded softly as the brunette nodded tiredly, having trained this morning for several hours and then been dragged to six different properties you knew her patience was wearing thin.

"i know, and i know we both want to find the right house so if this isn't the one, thats okay too." your fiance nodded her agreement as you leaned in to sweetly peck her lips as the real estate agent finally unlocked the front door.

"i love you." "i love you more."

you'd both recently gotten engaged which was long overdue, and though you'd lived together for several years now you'd mutually decided that before you started to make wedding plans and a budget, your next step was to buy your first home together.

"-and then this is the master. i just need to make a couple of calls but i'll be right downstairs if you have any questions!" the woman smiled kindly, having given you both the grand tour and stepping away to provide some privacy for the pair of you to talk.

"do you like it?" "what do you think?"

you both shared a look and laughed at your in sync thinking, and you couldn't help the surge of butterflies which fluttered around your chest at the look of the grin on your fiances face.

"i really like it." "it has almost everything we said we were looking for."

again you both laughed speaking in unison, the footballer playfully rolling her eyes as your hand came to cover her mouth with a tut and a shake of your head as she pushed you off.

"close to good schools, not too far from the training centre, big backyard, five rooms, multiple bathrooms, garage which would fit both of our cars-" emily started to list as you nodded.

"-lots of natural light, glass sliding back doors that lead out onto the deck, fireplace, stairs aren't too steep, huge kitchen with an island bench top, great potential for entertaining indoors and outdoors, in-ground pool."

your hands interlocked again as you wandered from room to room upstairs, eventually ending right back up in the master and separating to have a closer look.

"hers and hers closet." you ticked off with your finger making emily chuckle as she followed you inside, the two of you mentally filling the shelves and racks with clothes as a comfortable silence fell between you.

"good size bathroom cabinets." emily made a ticking motion in the air now as you both moved to the ensuit bathroom next, you now laughing before she kissed your cheek and wandered over to inspect the shower.

"but it is just out of our budget." you sighed, your fiance humming and turning around to face you. "but really, we did lowball our budget to be prepared for the wedding." the girl reminded as you nodded, eyes roaming the room.

"and we did agree not to set a date yet because we could wait an extra year if we wanted to." you added on as now emily sighed, your body relaxing as your fiance pressed herself against you, arms circling your waist as her chin found home on your shoulders.

"you did make me wait seven years for a proposal baby, whats another two finally engaged?" you teased, her nose tucking into your neck as her lips softly kissed your shoulder blade.

"girlfriend, fiance, wife, none of those titles make me love you any more or any less. we're building a life together babe, we've been building a life together. this is our decision, nobody else's." the defender murmured, hand coming to rest on your cheek, turning your head slightly so her mouth could meet yours properly.

"i get the top shelf of the cabinets and the left side of the closet, obviously." you pulled away with a nod to the cabinet hearing a scoff behind you.

"and what makes you so sure of that baby?" your fiance questioned, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow at you through the mirror in front of you.

"well i just claimed it." you shrugged with a grin, squealing as the brunette pinched your hip and you pushed her off of you. "and if i dispute your claim?" emily challenged crossing her arms as you let out a long and troubled sigh.

"so, do you actually like me or-" you started sadly as your fiance scoffed loudly cutting you off. "do i like you? we've been together for seven years. we're getting married! what the hell do you think?" her eyes rolled making your lips curl up into a smile.

"i think the top shelf and the left side of the closet should be mine, since you like me so much." you nodded matter of factly. "well then i get the left side of the bed, we are not having more than two decorative pillows and-" the girl paused as you raised an eyebrow awaiting her to finish her demands.

"and...?" "and...we buy this house." emilys face softened as her hands found yours, fingers interlinking and tugging you closer as your features lit up with surprise.

"really?" "really."

#emily fox x reader #emily fox #woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #uswnt #uswnt x reader

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dckweed · 1 year

Note

Not sure if you're doing top gun requests right now, but if so, here's one. Rooster with a girl who is helping penny at the bar on a super busy night and there is some rowdy group who keeps calling her over and staring at her, and eventually they go too far and try to grab her but she just knocks one of them clean out and as the guys (hangman, fanboy, etc) is taking care of them, rooster takes her away bc she was about to go crazy on them lol. He's just like "that was so hot but you don't need to go to prison tonight."

baby i am always taking top gun requests. ooooh i love this idea so freaking much, thank you for choosing me to send it too, i absolutely do love it when you guys send things!

please note that i see every request that comes in and i am getting to them one at a time! with that being said, feel free to send one in!

anway, how are we all doing today? are we staying hydrated?

warnings: drinking, violence, inappropriate groping and harassment, bar fights, established relationship with rooster!

"BITCHLESS & DICKLESS' bradley rooster bradshaw x fem!reader

It was a busy Friday night at the Hard Deck, you and Penny the only two working and barely able to keep up with the constant flow of customers coming through, it only seemed to get even more crowded and rowdy when a small group of sailors fresh off the base come through, taking up a couple of the tables near the juke box. They signal you over and you make your towards them, order pad in hand incase they order more than just beer.

"Hey guys, how can i help you?" You ask, your voice upbeat and a smile on your face. It was sticky hot outside and you knew your shirt was clinging to your skin because of it, you tried not to feel too uncomfortable with the obvious way two of the men were staring at you. "Eyes up here, fellas." You say, giving a playful angry look. You were used to being looked at, it kind of came with the job title of bartender, but that didn't mean that it didn't make you uncomfortable.

One of the men cocks a smirk at you, leaning back easily in his seat. "They'll have a round of Budweiser," He says, his eyes not leaving you once as he gestures towards his friends. "and i'll have your number, sweetness."

Before you can open your mouth to object politely, one of his buddies beats you to it. "Hey, Hanks, give some of us a chance with her damn." He chuckles flashing you a smile.

"How about none of you get a chance?" You say sweetly, laughing with his buddies. "I'll be back with the beers in a minute." You shake your head, walking back to the bar. You grab six cold beers from the ice box and start putting them on a serving tray.

"Those boys gonna be trouble?" Penny asks, maneuvering her way behind you with a few drinks of her own. You hadn't realized that she had heard the interaction.

"No, they'll be fine." You shake your head, glancing back over at the table as you pop the tops off of the bottles one by one. The one that had asked for your number, Hanks, was staring at you and talking to the rest of his friends at the same time. His gaze unsettled you, but you carried on with your job anyway. You make your way back over to them, planting your serving smile back on to your face as you start handing out their beers. "Alright fellas, let me know if there's anything else i can get you, okay?"

"That phone number is still wanted, honey." Hanks' friend says, taking a sip from his bottle. He shoots you a wink and manspreads in his chair, you perk an eyebrow at him. What was it with navy boys being so goddamn persistent?

"I'm sure it is honey," You say, your voice a little more stern on the matter this time around. "but my boyfriend sure wouldn't appreciate me giving it out to random navy boys that walk into my bar." You turn to head back towards the actual bar, where you see Penny starting struggle.

"I don't see him around, im sure what he don't know won't kill him!" Hanks voice calls after you, its almost admirable how persistent they are, it was afterall one of the more endearing qualities about your boyfriend when you first met him, although you had to say that he hadn't been nearly as uncomfortable as these boys were.

"Oh he'll be around!" You call back over your shoulder, not noticing that at that moment said boyfriend and his group of friends had walked through the front door of the bar. You didn't notice them for quite a few minuets, giving them plenty of time to get to their usual seats as you worked on the fresh wave of customers at the bar, mixing drinks and handing them out almost mechanically.

After around twenty minutes or so Bradley comes up to the bar, standing directly behind you, your back turned as you pour beer from the tap. "Here you g-Bradley!" You exclaim excitedly, nearly spilling the beer in your hands before you hand it to the man standing next to him.

"Hey baby," He says, his voice gruff and hoars, tired. He gladly accepts your kiss as you lean across the bar for it, pressing his lips against your own. He was still wearing his flight suit, and still covered in sweat, and a quick glance towards the others told you everything y ou needed to know.

"Rough day?" You look at him, eyes questioning as you get to work making their drinks. Whiskey neat for Jake, Scotch on the rocks for Bradley and Natasha and a pop for Bob, your favorite sober companion most evenings.

"You could say that," He says, a deep sigh leaving his chest as he watches you, already feeling more at ease. You didnt pry any farther, knowing he would tell you all about it in bed that night. "When are you off?"

You pout, coming around the bar with the drinks on a serving tray. "Not until nearly closing tonight," You say, walking with him towards the others. Bradley studiously takes the tray from you, ever the gentleman even on his roughest days, his arm brushing your shoulder as you walk. "Hey guys," You greet, giving Jake and Bob your usual friendly kiss on the cheek, and with a giggle you give one to Nat too when she taps hers and gives you a lopsided grin. You could tell by looks on their faces that they all needed a dose of happiness.

"Where's mine?" Bradley whines, hand on your hip possessively. You roll your eyes at him but lean up to kiss his waiting cheek anyway, adoring the small smile that tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Awe come on Rooster, you get her all the time, let the rest of us have some." Natasha says, causing you to throw your head back in a laugh, leaning farther into your boyfriend. Your laugh was infectious and the whole group lets out a chuckle, you watch their bodies relax afterwards. "Might want to keep em coming, Y/N , it's been a rough one.."

Jake looks somewhere behind you, eyebrows pinched, stare hard. "Looks like you're in need, Y/N" He says, raising his whiskey to his lips to take a sip.

You look over your shoulder, your eyes landing on the group of sailors from earlier on the other side of the bar. "Those guys again," You sigh, grabbing your tray off the table.

Bob grabs your wrist before you go, and you furrow your brow at him. "Are those guys giving you a hard time?" He asks quietly, he knew Bradley was already on edge as it was and didn't want him looking for a fight.

"Nothing i can't handle, Bobby," You say, ruffling his hair with a wink before heading off towards the group, putting some pep back in your step. "Ready for round two already, fellas?"

The night drags on quickly and slowly all at the same time, customers come and go, drinks are made and made again and carried out to tables. The two main groups being your Boyfriend and the rest of the daggers and the group of boat boys who become more rowdy as the night drags on.

Bradley is already uneasy with them as it is, catching them staring at you one too many times and asking for your number more than once, to which you studiously turn them down, looking his way as if asking for help. He knew he would step in when needed, but he also hoped that didn't need to happen, he knew Penny would talk to Mav and Mav would talk his ear off about it tomorrow on base.

Your patience had more than worn thin, and you were counting down the minuets until your shift was over, hoping that the last half an hour would pass without any issues. Your hopes were wrong though.

You were bringing the group of boat boys another round of beers and a couple of waters and were just picking up the empties and placing them on your tray when you feel it, a large, sweaty hand sliding up the back of your thigh and right up onto your ass, giving it a heavy squeeze. Your eyes widen. "You wanna lose that fucking hand?" You ask, voice gruff as you stand up straight. The entire table quiets.

"What? Fly girl over there is good enough to squeeze this thick ass but i'm not?" Natasha had playfully smacked your ass on her way to the restroom a short time ago, something the two of you had grown close enough as friends to do. It had made you laugh, but this? Oh this was an entirely different ball game.

You see red, and off in the distance you hear Bradley and Jake both yell and the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor as they all get up abruptly. Youve done it before they can even reach you though. The tray drops from your grasp, your dominant hand balling up as the sound of shattering glass reaches your ears and your fist collides with Hanks' face, right between the eyes. You feel a sickening crunch under the force of the blow and blood spurts out of his nostrils as he slumps down, you had hit him hard enough to knock him out.

"What the fuck?!?" Bradley is next to you, arm out protectively as his friends all stand from their seats, ready to brawl over what you had done, even though their pig of a friend had done worse in your opinion. "Y/N?"

"Bitchless and Dickless over there can't catch a fucking hint!" You yell lunging for his friend. Rooster's arms hold you back though before you can make contact with him, the entire bar watches you scream and kick at the sailor as your boyfriend drags you out towards the parking lot. "Fucking assholes! Squeezed my fucking ass!"

Surprisingly, Bob is the first to throw a punch. He had been watching the idiots mess with you all night long along with Rooster. And after their long ass day he was just as ready to fight as the rest of them, infact, he actually took pleasure in what he did. His fist collides squarely with Hanks' friend and Natasha drags the already semi conscious asshole across the floor after you and Bradley, Penny coming to help her.

"Jesus christ baby, you started a fucking brawl!" Bradley laughs, opening the passenger door of the bronco, shoving all of his stuff onto the floorboard as he sets you up on the seat. "That was so fucking hot," He says, hearing police sirens in the distance already. "You have no idea how bad i want to fuck you right now but i can't have you going to jail tonight, buckle in tight baby.." He says, closing your door before running around to the drivers side, the only the thought on his mind is getting you home where you're safe and in your guys' bed, preferably underneath of him.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick imagine #miles teller

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gotham-daydreams · 1 year

Note

How would it have gone differently if Reader didn't try to be an "overachiever" and instead just stayed quiet and didn't interact with anyone besides Alfred until they left? Their room they left being mostly blank, with only the music journals? Giving up on trying to get their attention.

I think what's so funny about this ask, to me, is that I already have a concept like this written down (along with 3 others since the current reader I'm writing for the "Not [ ]" series is one of them but with a few missing details), so this'll be fun!

I guess it generally goes how you'd expect? Which is different for the most part, but the reader's perspective on what's happening is also different.

Granted, I would like to point out that, at least for this particular concept and the idea I have for it of how this would go, does have more stuff going on pre-Batfam that do affect how they perceive what's happening, and that's what makes things interesting in my opinion. Because someone can be naturally shy or just overall more reserved either out of nature or because they feel a certain way, but still feel bad about being neglected and, despite their lack of effort, feel that pain just as much as someone who's tried. Which is valid! Besides, someone's definition of 'trying' can vary as well.

Everyone should have a chance to have a family, and form some kind of connection with people. Just because you aren't going above and beyond for one person, doesn't mean you're undeserving of certain things. Especially not a chance to have a family, or feel like you have one. That's what I think anyway.

Nevertheless, back to the reader!

From the original concept, I will be tweaking a few things to fit the ask, but the same general outcome remains! Though again, the reader's perspective on things is a tad different. But how about this- I'll show two versions of the reader.

One that's quiet and more reserved because they gave up much earlier, or just generally hopeless really early on because maybe they felt as if anything they'd do just wouldn't be enough, who'll be accurately named Quiet!Reader. With the other being more closely related to the concept I wrote for such an idea, that we'll refer to as Waiting!Reader.

Quiet!Reader would change up things quite a bit! I won't lie!

They might already have bad self-esteem that's quick to develop at the start of things, which is something to note as that doesn't get better with time. They grow more cold and distant from the family at a quicker pace both from personal and external reasons.

Put simply, they don't feel good enough, and even if they did- anything they could do to get the Batfam's attention would never be enough in their eyes. To which, they see very early on when they try to engage and do some things with the family, only to be turned down. What doesn't help is when Quiet!Reader sees Damian get adopted and almost immediately showered with love, (compared to them) and that really cements some ideas that were already developing in their head about the family.

When Damian comes into the picture, they feel replaced. Seeing him as someone to fill in the 'youngest Wayne' role instead of them, so that Bruce and the others actually have someone to acknowledge for such a title. Just someone else to further take away the little they had.

So, they further step out of the way, glaring at the Batfam with tired eyes before that eventually stops too. Envy clawing at their heart, hatred being sent through waves of pain all throughout their body. Hurt unmatched. Yet they still remain invisible. Quiet as ever. Unnoticed. Everything they ever felt dies down, and forms a cold numbness that they begin to associate with the family.

Maybe through that, they feel closer to the family in some twisted way. Now just as cold as them. Just as talkative, and just as engaging. Almost mirroring them, but they're honest about how they feel. Honest about what they think, and therefore better. At least when compared to the Batfam- and to them, even if it wasn't a high bar to reach anyway, at least it counts for something.

It was never Damian's fault, or really about Damian at all. It could've been anyone else and Quiet!Reader would've still reacted the same way, they know that. Though just seeing the Batfam show love and care to him and not them just makes them feel... worse.

Clearly they're capable of love, and can notice new additions to the family (to which they may have mostly believed that the Batfam's neglect was just something the family did for whatever reason, and thought that them being the youngest had something to do with it for a while) and that breaks the reader. It doesn't hurt, not as much as it would've, maybe, but whatever hurt is there dies down quickly as Quiet!Reader, well, quietly accepts their fate.

The Batfam clearly wants nothing to do with them, so why should they try to do all of these things for them? It's simple, they shouldn't. So they don't. Quiet!Reader gives up, and continues to live their life without them.

The Manor just becomes a place they sleep in, and nothing else. It isn't anything close to a home, and not even Alfred can help with that.

It's because of that little fact, however, that Quiet!Reader leaves much sooner than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series. Maybe once they get a friend they can trust, they essentially end up living with said friend, hence why their room remains so empty. The notebooks they even keep in the room they have in the Manor is from when they were way younger, instead of just being from a few months ago or so. We're talking years since Quiet!Reader has touched those things now.

Maybe they do 'officially' leave a month or so before they usually would as an overachiever in the "Not [ ]" series, having only bothered to return so often before because of Alfred. Though even then, they'd forget to return most nights- only being reminded to even try and go back once Alfred would personally call them, and ask them where they were.

However now, after a while of just the time between them basically living with their friend and sleeping at the manor, they stop returning altogether. Though this time around they instead personally go to Alfred to say they're goodbyes. Not explaining much, but just saying that while they might still try to come and visit him sometimes, they don't live in the Manor anymore. Alfred already knows this, and the embrace they share fully hammers in that fact.

Yet when Quiet!Reader turns away, and leaves the Manor for good- even through the front door at that. Alfred can't help but just... miss them already.

You see, while Quiet!Reader is indeed quieter and more reserved, especially towards the Batfam, with Alfred really being the only exception, they still made music.

Maybe they didn't have as many concerts or physical, grand, live performances compared to the reader in the "Not [ ]" series, they not only started earlier, but may have actually started out on a social platform such a youtube. They really started out small, but were able to find and start their passion much earlier!

Most of what they played was when they were in the Manor, but slowly they started to get involved with things music related outside of the Manor and in Gotham- and from there were able to build themselves up even more. Hell, I'd even say that Quiet!Reader is a little more well-known and popular than the reader in the "Not [ ]" series because of the amount of extra time they dedicated to their passion.

So basically, Alfred this time around has more recordings and such of Quiet!Reader actually doing something they love than with the one in the series. However! Funnily enough, they're gone for a shorter amount of time despite having left earlier than normal.

Alfred is just, extra fed up with this nonsense, and so pulls his tricks more early on, but also make them hit harder.

He doesn't clean Quiet!Reader's room to show how long they've been gone, adding onto the emptiness and almost abandoned feeling the room itself gives off because of how bare and empty it is. They're music haunts the halls, subtle, sure, but still noticeable- especially to those who are hyper aware all the time. Pictures of Quiet!Reader and Alfred begin to be hung up, and if he can manage- some with Quiet!Reader and their friends during important parts of their life.

No one is safe from the guilt and anguish Alfred seeks to cause to not only have the Batfam look for you, but most importantly, to finally notice you.

Let's just say, things work out a little too well.

---

As for Waiting!Reader? Oh man, I've been wanting to rant about them for a while!

Unlike the reader in the "Not [ ]" series and Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader had some semblance of a life before getting adopted into the Batfam. Though the idea and character themself isn't musically inclined/involved in music, or even all that interested in music for that matter- for the sake of this ask, lets say they are!

I won't dabble too much into the life Waiting!Reader had before the Batfam, as if I do end up writing them I'd also like to keep some details vague (for the sake of leaving it up to interpretation and everything), but just know that during the time they were still with their original family, they were essentially taught that they should 'wait their turn', and eventually their parents would spend time with them and care for them. Hence the little name I've given them.

So! When they get to the Manor and are officially adopted, only to be neglected and ignored during their first few attempts- because of their young age, they immediately think "oh! they're just like mom and dad!" So they 'wait' for 'their turn', believing that eventually, should they wait long enough, they'll be rewarded with bonding and such from the Batfam just as they were with their previous parents.

This mindset changes what they do as well, as Waiting!Reader even goes out of their way to not bother anyone, or "get in the way" of whatever they could be doing. Waiting!Reader treats the situation so much like their previous home life, that sometimes they might even forget that the Batfam are completely different people from their parents. The only real difference that they can think of is that they're not acknowledged at all and it seems like their 'turn' never comes. Though for a while that doesn't get them down. The Batfam is busy like they're parents were! Waiting!Reader is sure that when things die down then they'll have their time.

... Hopefully.

I can imagine that part of the reason why Waiting!Reader holds on to hope for so long is because, again, their own parents constantly reassured them that they would have their time eventually. That if they behaved, and stayed out of the way, then they would go somewhere fun with their parents and essentially be rewarded for their efforts. They were conditioned to wait, to be patient, and just comply until those around them decided to actually take care of them, and spend time with them.

Of course, as they grow up the reality of the situation does hit them eventually, but during that time they do try.

Waiting!Reader helps Alfred around the house, and so they mostly bond over doing chores, among other things. They are also more mindful, and try to keep the amount of noise they back down— so they actually don't play at the Manor all that often, and instead play literally anywhere else. If and when they do play outside, around the area of the Manor like in the gardens or something, they make sure no one is around before even thinking of playing.

Alfred does help them break a few of their habits that they got while living with their parents, but the one thing he can't seem to 'fix' is how absolutely quiet Waiting!Reader is when they walk around. Which, as on can imagine, doesn't exactly help in a situation where the whole family, except for the butler, is neglecting you.

The amount of times Waiting!Reader has caught Alfred off guard is more then you'd think for someone that works with the Dark Knight, and his various sidekicks and such, over the years. Which does say something, sure, but it's also funny!

Regardless, similar to Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader is able to start their musical career earlier than normal, and thuse becomes a little more popular than they would originally. However, they're more known for their live performances and giving back to the community. Seemingly just like Bruce as they attend charity event after charity event, and try to do good by the people.

Waiting!Reader also does genuinely try to become a vigilante as well, but they do so in a way where they only take care of the smaller/medium guys, and leave the bigger ones to the rest of the Batfam. This is because they want to remove possible distractions for their family, and while they would try to take on "bigger guys", they don't think they're skilled enough or experienced enough to even think about it. So they don't even try. (They also don't have the same theme as the Batfam- since they don't want to 'ruin' their reputation with what they're doing or something. Which does hell them further detach themself from the family later on.)

I'd say that with Waiting!Reader, the difference between them and the Batfam is more clear to them? Like, to them, the Batfam are just so good at what they do that they have no hope of reaching them. So instead of trying to reach for them, they just do their own thing and try to help in their own way.

Because Waiting!Reader takes care of smaller guys, they are kind of closer to Waiting!Reader as a vigilante.

The best way I can put it is that while the community trusts Batman and the members of the Batfam to save their city, they trust Waiting!Reader to save their homes.

So basically- Batfam is the bigger picture while Waiting!Reader focuses on the smaller picture.

Nevertheless! Also like Quiet!Reader, Waiting!Reader actually leaves earlier. Except when they leave, they leave.

Waiting!Reader straight up leaves Gotham City to attend the college that they want to go to, in an area that has more opportunity for them, that isn't close to where the Batfam lives or patrols.

So they not only leave earlier, but it also takes the Batfam longer to find them. Especially because Waiting!Reader does still do some things in Gotham, they just don't live there anymore.

I feel like out of all three readers, Waiting!Reader definitely feels like the kind of person that someone would assume is some kind of "Phantom of the Wayne Manor," y'know?

So Alfred definitely tries to make the Batfam feel bad like he does with Quiet!Reader. Except how anyone in the Batfam is reminded that Waiting!Reader even exists, and that they've been gone for a while now is through a letter that is accidentally sent to the Wayne Manor from one of Waiting!Reader's fans. From there, some research does start and the more the Batfam learns, the more they want to go and find the reader- you know the deal.

I hope this answered your question even if I really did ramble on this time- if you'd like me to clarify anything or go into more detail on a specific part, feel free to send in an ask!

#platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #gn reader #sibling reader #yandere dc #yandere x gn reader #platonic yandere #yandere alfred #neglected reader #talking daydreams #yandere batman

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confused-pyramid · 8 months

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anchor - masterlist | aaron hotchner series

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons. pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader warnings: canon!typical violence (including SA, guns, child abuse, etc.), swearing, slow burn, eventual smut, more specific warnings included in each chapter word count so far: 106.8k status: indefinite hiatus

a/n: I've been rewatching Criminal Minds from the beginning, and this is the result of that journey lol:) The title is from 'Anchor' by Novo Amor.

SEASON ONE: Coming Up For Air

SEASON TWO: There is More When You Let Go

SEASON THREE: Tell Me Some Things Last

SEASON FOUR: One Step From Grace

SEASON FIVE: You're the Only One Who Knows to Slow it Down

SEASON SIX: I'd Like to Think That You Would Stick Around

SEASON SEVEN: I'll Be Yours in a Landslide

#anchor masterlist #aaron hotchner #criminal minds series #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader #hotch #fanfiction #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner smut

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edenesth · 5 months

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TWTHH Spinoff: Little Touch of Heaven [1]

Pairing: physician!Yunho x herbalist!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Dedicating his life to his work, Yunho had never bothered to entertain the idea of settling down. Despite encountering many charming women throughout his career, none had sparked his desire for companionship. But everything shifted when he met a certain herbalist whose medicinal knowledge seemed to surpass even his own. What began as mere intrigue might have gradually developed into affection.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"Are you still here, sunshine? It's way past closing time. Come on now, let's head home soon. Your mother will be worried if we take too long," your father called out from the backdoor of his apothecary, where you were diligently working in the backyard farm responsible for growing and harvesting all the herbs he required to make his medicines.

You sighed, gazing at the new batch of seeds you had just planted and still needed to water, "Uhh... you go on without me first, father. I'll join you as soon as I'm finished with this latest batch of ginseng."

The elderly man shook his head in resignation, "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you. Be prepared for an earful from the lioness at home if you're late for dinner."

Chortling, you playfully stuck your tongue out at him, "Worry about yourself first! I'll tell mother dearest you called her a lioness," you waved him off as he sputtered in disbelief, panicking and giving you all the reasons you shouldn't say such a thing. But you only shook your head, finding your old dad incredibly adorable. That's why you couldn't resist teasing him every chance you got.

"Go home, father. I was just teasing you, geez," you reassured with a cheeky grin, watching as he huffed and grabbed his bag, "I'm going then. Hurry up, sunshine. And be careful on your way home."

"I will. You be careful too. I'll see you in a bit," you said, quickly returning your attention to your work. It was only then that you realised your stomach was beginning to growl with hunger at the thought of your mother's cooking. With no time to waste, you hastily completed the remaining tasks.

After finishing up, a contented sigh escaped you as you dusted off your hands and admired the fruits of your labour. Despite years of repetition, you couldn't imagine ever growing tired of this routine. Your father's apothecary had been a fixture long before your birth. Your mother had been one of his loyal customers, initially seeking medicine for her ailing father. However, as time passed, her visits seemed motivated by more than just medicinal needs.

It didn't take long for them to realise their love for each other, and they soon married. In the early days, your mother continued to assist your father with herb growing and harvesting, even after your arrival. Growing up, you spent your childhood amidst the sights and smells of the apothecary, playing and observing as your parents toiled away.

As you matured, your curiosity blossomed into genuine interest, prompting you to actively participate in and learn about herbalism. With your mother's growing age and declining health, she was eventually advised to retire and stay home, leaving you to take over her responsibilities in the apothecary. However, unlike her, you insisted on handling the planting of herbs alone, sparing your elderly father from further strain. Instead, he managed the less physically demanding tasks such as medicine-making and store management.

Locking up the apothecary doors, you began your trek home, you observed the families and couples passing you with a small smile on your face. While you couldn't exactly relate to most people, having spent most, if not all, of your time in the back of your father's store growing up, you couldn't be any happier than you are now.

You had no desire to venture out, make new acquaintances, or seek friendships. Your simple life brought you contentment, and you cherished the strong bond you shared with your parents. Grateful for the absence of hardship and discontent, you had no yearning for wealth or extravagance. Engaging in what you loved, even if it meant remaining within the confines of the apothecary indefinitely, filled you with immense satisfaction. You were perfectly content staying right where you were, surrounded by the familiar warmth of your family and the comforting aroma of herbs.

I could do this forever.

"I'm home!" you called out cheerfully as you stepped into your humble abode. It was a decent-sized house with all the essentials, providing everything your family needed. Despite the success of the apothecary and its financial stability, your parents saw no reason to move to a larger residence. Attachment and sentimental value outweighed any desire for more space.

Everything in your home remained in excellent condition, thanks to your mother's meticulous care, and that was all that mattered. As soon as you entered, she cooed and rushed over to envelop you in a warm hug, "Oh, my dearest little sunshine is home!"

You grinned at your father, who rolled his eyes in mock jealousy. Unlike you, he had returned home only to be lectured for allowing you to walk home alone instead of waiting for you. It was almost ironic how he had warned you about being scolded, only for the roles to be reversed.

It didn't take long before a smile spread across his features; your father was one of the sweetest men you'd ever known. But you hadn't met many people, given that most of your time was spent in the back of his shop. Even then, one thing was certain: he was good to you and even better to your mother.

You had never witnessed him raise his voice, regardless of how upset he might be. He always remained patient, letting his wife do all the yelling. And at the end of the day, he would go to great lengths to make her smile again, ensuring she never went to bed angry. If you were to find a husband, you'd want someone like your father.

Fortunately, you inherited his cheerful personality when you were born. You were truly a bundle of joy since entering this world, earning the nickname 'sunshine' from your parents. No matter how bleak their days became, your bright presence would always illuminate everything. You couldn't recall ever having a particularly bad day, and you hoped things would stay that way forever.

As you settled into your seat at the dining table, your bowl was instantly filled to the brim with your favourite dishes. Your mother chimed in, "Eat up, sunshine. You need to replenish all that energy you've lost from working so hard." The aroma tantalised your senses, and you couldn't help but salivate, "Thank you for the food, mother!" you exclaimed, immediately digging in, feeling famished to the point where you felt like you could devour an entire cow.

"Woah, woah, slow down. They're all yours, silly girl," your father cautioned, shaking his head at your unladylike eating habits, "I'm telling you, no guy will be attracted to you if you eat like that in public."

You pouted, retorting, "If he truly loves me, he'll accept me for who I am." Your mother gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "While that's true, I'm starting to worry that you might never attract anyone at all, since you're always at home or hiding in the back of the store," she confessed, setting down her chopsticks, "I've been feeling slightly better lately. Maybe I could return to the store occasionally, and you could finally go out and meet some boys—"

Shaking your head, you cut her off, "Nice try, mother, but that's not happening. Be good and stay home if you don't want me and father to worry. Besides, I don't need a man to complete me. I'm content as it is. All I need is the two of you by my side."

Unbeknownst to you, your parents harboured fears about exactly that. They knew they wouldn't be around forever, and once they were gone, who would take care of you? The thought of leaving their precious little girl behind all alone in this world filled them with dread.

The elderly man pondered for a moment, unwilling to let go of the topic so easily, "How about you come and help in the store once in a while? That way, you'd still have the chance to interact with some of the customers, and who knows, you might meet someone the same way your mother and I met each other."

You giggled, watching as they exchanged affectionate glances, their hands intertwining on the table, "That's cute, but no thank you, father. The farm isn't going to tend to itself, and before you offer, I refuse to let you perform such hard labour. Your body can't handle it; please don't make me worry. I'll be just fine, I promise."

You're fine, sunshine, but we're not.

Your parents sighed, disappointed by your refusal. At this stage, they could only hope for some miracle to happen, allowing you to meet a kind man who would care for you when they no longer could.

But maybe that miracle wasn't as distant as they thought. Maybe there was no need for your parents to be so concerned. Maybe things were about to change very soon. Perhaps your parents had prayed earnestly enough, and perhaps the heavens had finally chosen to answer those prayers.

"Tell me what you need, and I'll assist you," Jongho offered as soon as the physician finished briefing the head maid on all the tasks she would now have to handle, especially with Lady Park's pregnancy encountering difficulties and depending on him. With a shake of his head, Yunho smiled at the assistant, "It's fine, I've got it covered. Eunsook knows what to do while I'm away. Now if you'll excuse me, I should probably head to the apothecary for some herbs."

As the doctor made his way to the apothecary where he sourced medicines and herbs for his clinic, his mind raced with plans on which herbs would best suit the case at hand. It had been some time since he last treated a pregnant woman or dealt with pregnancy-related issues like this, and he couldn't deny feeling a bit rusty in this area. If only he had foreseen this, he might have brushed up on his studies, but the urgency of the situation caught him off guard.

He could still recall how urgently he had been summoned. Jongho had barged into his clinic, leaving him with no choice but to close up immediately. He wondered if he should have anticipated the pregnancy, especially given the general's desire for alone time with his wife. Perhaps he had been foolish not to prepare beforehand; he should have seen this coming. But there was no time to chastise himself over it now. His focus needed to be on ensuring Seonghwa's baby safely reached the three-month mark.

"Ah, finally, we're here," he murmured to himself as soon as the familiar store with the sign 'Ryu's Apothecary' came into view.

Without hesitation, he entered the establishment he knew like the back of his hand. This was the only place he trusted for all his medicines and herbs; he had known the owner for years. Mr. Ryu truly was one of the kindest apothecaries, never overcharging him and sometimes even offering discounts and deals for his loyalty. Just when Yunho thought they were close enough for him to know everything about the elderly man, today seemed to prove otherwise.

Perhaps he didn't know nearly enough.

"Mr. Ryu, I'm afraid I'll need all your raspberry and peppermint leaf supply for the day. Lady Park hasn't been doing too well in the early stages of her pregnancy," the physician announced upon entering the apothecary where he regularly obtained his medicines and herbs, his eyes busily scanning around for anything else that could be useful.

"Is that so? You might want to consider our latest batch of Codonopsis root imported directly from China just a week ago. It's highly effective in boosting vital energy and reducing fatigue during pregnancy."

Yunho's head shot up in surprise.

First of all, why hadn't he thought of that before? More importantly, the feminine voice addressing him sounded nothing like the elderly man who usually managed the store. He turned to find a young woman behind the counter, his eyes widening in astonishment.

"O-oh, um... hello there. I didn't realise Mr. Ryu had such a young wife," he blurted out before cursing himself, feeling embarrassed for making such a hasty assumption.

Your face immediately twisted in disgust, "Goodness gracious, you're severely mistaken! I'm his daughter!"

Way to go, you complete idiot!

The physician immediately bowed, overwhelmed with embarrassment as he offered his apology, "I-I apologise, Miss Ryu! I don't know what made me say that. It's just that I'm used to seeing only your father here. Seeing someone else caught me off guard."

Blinking rapidly, he hoped he wasn't visibly blushing. He had known the elderly man for so long and hadn't the slightest clue he even had a daughter, and such a pretty one too. Making such a mistake on their first meeting was unbelievable to him. He rarely found himself flustered and struggled to maintain his usually composed demeanour.

Good lord, did he really just say that?

You could only sigh; this was precisely why you didn't want to be out here in the store. It was only your first time in your father's place, and this was the first thing that happened. Off to a bad start already, you wouldn't be surprised if this trend continued with some of the other customers later on. It felt like your father had jinxed it at dinner that evening; shortly after, your mother fell sick, leaving him no choice but to stay home and care for her. In the meantime, you were left with no option but to manage the store.

Determined to put the incident behind you, you shook your head, reassuring the physician, "It's fine, sir. My father has to stay home due to an emergency, but fear not, he should be back in a few days to man the store as usual. So, would you be interested in those Codonopsis roots? I could pack some for you as well."

"Y-yes, please. Thank you for the recommendation, Miss Ryu; I really appreciate it," he said, stepping over sheepishly towards the counter.

"No problem, sir," you responded politely, busy packing the raspberry and peppermint leaf he had requested along with some of the Chinese herbs you had suggested.

You calling him 'sir' only reminded him that you still didn't know his name. For the first time in forever, not knowing what to do with his hands, he intertwined them behind his back and cleared his throat, "Uhh... my name is Jung Yunho, by the way. I'm the—"

"Oh, so it's you!" you cut him off, nodding in recognition with raised brows, "I know you; I've heard plenty about you from my father. I know you're the great General Park's family doctor," you continued with a shrug, "But of course, I should've figured that out when you mentioned a certain Lady Park's pregnancy. Huh, it's good to know they're having a baby soon. And before I go off on a tangent, more importantly, you're known to be one of the best physicians in town."

With a light chuckle, he shook his head modestly, "Well, I'm clearly not the best if I couldn't even think to use Codonopsis root."

Furrowing your brows slightly, you countered, "I don't see how that has anything to do with your abilities. That's because you're a physician, not a herbalist. Experts like me are here for that. While we may know which herbs are best used to treat what, herbalists obviously cannot diagnose patients. See, that's our difference and why we coexist to help one another."

Listening to you speak, Yunho felt thoroughly impressed. He couldn't deny that he had always believed he was the smartest person in the room, given his medical expertise and role as the famous general's personal doctor. People often revered him for being at the top of his field. At some point, he had almost convinced himself that there was nobody who could teach him anything new.

But your words made him reconsider.

He hadn't expected to meet someone who could humble him and make him realise he still had much to learn. Especially not a young woman like you, the daughter of an apothecary, a herbalist.

"In that case, Miss Ryu, what else would you recommend for an unstable early pregnancy? You see, the general's wife suffered from severe malnutrition throughout her childhood, and her body is now lacking enough nutrients for both her and her baby," he asked, deciding to set aside his pride and seek help. Seonghwa was relying on him, and he couldn't risk anything happening to Lady Park or the baby.

Finishing up the last of his orders, you hummed in thought, "Actually, there is another medicine that could help. It's a well-known Chinese herb my father has sold to some customers facing similar problems," you explained as you retrieved a box of medicine from the cabinet behind you. Opening it revealed a brown block of medicine he had never seen before, "This one also arrived not too long ago from China. It's called Colla Corii Asini, and it nourishes the kidney while preventing miscarriage. Perhaps this is what Lady Park needs."

"Thank you so much, that sounds perfect," he breathed out in relief, finally feeling a glimmer of hope. You shook your head with a small smile to indicate 'no worries.' As he prepared to make his payment, he asked, "Um, I was just wondering... why haven't I seen you before? I mean, you're Mr. Ryu's daughter and—"

You shrugged, "I'm in charge of growing and harvesting all the herbs we sell, so I'm usually on the farm at the back of the store."

"Ohh... so, you are the genius behind all these herbs," he nodded slowly in wonder, standing there after completing his payment, hands full with the herbs you'd packed for him. Intrigued by your knowledge, he mustered the courage to ask, "I know I'm probably asking too much, but... w-would it be okay for me to come over frequently and learn more about herbs from you? You know, to improve as a medical practitioner."

You shrugged again, "Sure, suit yourself."

Yes, she said yes!

Deep down, he didn't want this to be his first and last time seeing you. He rationalised it, telling himself you were simply an intriguing person. He hadn't encountered anyone as passionate about healing and herbs, someone who possessed more knowledge than he did. He was just eager to learn more.

That had to be the only reason.

It had to be.

"Has the mistress been feeling any better?" the physician inquired eagerly, anxiously awaiting Eunsook's response. He had returned to the general's estate a few days after administering the first batch of the medicine you had recommended.

Beaming, the head maid exclaimed, "Oh, those medications worked like magic! The fatigue and morning sickness improved immensely just a day after she started taking the medicine. You're amazing, Physician Jung! I knew we could count on you!"

It wasn't me at all, it was all her.

"That's good to know, Eunsook! I couldn't have done it without the help of a very talented herbalist. Well then, I'll be back in another few days with more of those herbs," he said eagerly, already looking forward to returning to the apothecary to share the news with you.

The elderly woman bowed, "Of course! And please extend our thanks to this kind herbalist friend of yours, we definitely could use more experts like him around—"

"Her. She's a female herbalist, and you're right, we do need more talents like Miss Ryu around," Yunho quickly corrected.

Blinking rapidly, Eunsook nodded with a slightly knowing smile, "Oh, my apologies. I shouldn't have assumed her gender, but yes, please offer Miss Ryu our sincere gratitude."

"Don't worry, I will."

As he approached the apothecary, his heart seemed to quicken at the thought of seeing you again, though he couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why. Perhaps he was simply eager to make a new friend who shared his passion for medicine. Besides, he couldn't deny his admiration for your extensive knowledge of herbs, despite your young age. You seemed to surpass even some of the more experienced practitioners in his field.

Truthfully, he genuinely desired to learn more about herbs from you. The prospect of befriending you held great potential for him; he envisioned you as a valuable ally who could aid in his continuous growth as a physician. Together, with his medical expertise and your herbal knowledge, you could make a formidable team, contributing significantly to society together.

"Oh, Physician Jung! How can I help you today?" Mr. Ryu, your father, greeted him upon his entrance. For once, the doctor seemed rather flustered as he approached the counter, "Oh, uhh... I'm not here for medicine today. I came to see your daughter. Please don't take this the wrong way!" he hurriedly added, "She said I could come to learn more about herbs from her, so I—"

Your father's eyes widened in excitement as Yunho rambled on. While he didn't like the fact that his wife had to fall sick for him to finally be away from the store, it must have been a blessing in disguise because now his daughter had finally met someone, and not just anyone, but the amazing Physician Jung. Oh, he would be able to die happy if this was to be his future son-in-law.

With a little snicker, the elderly man nodded, "Ah, I see you've met my little sunshine while I was away. No need to explain yourself, I believe you. Now if you'll come with me, she's just at the back of the store."

"Here, just head straight ahead, and you should find her somewhere within the plantations," your father said, nodding his head down the hallway leading to the back of the store, "I'd take you there myself, but I don't think I should leave the store unattended."

"I've got it, Mr. Ryu, thank you."

As he walked down the hallway as instructed by Mr. Ryu, the physician wondered how the elderly man would have reacted if he knew Yunho had mistaken his dear daughter for his wife during their first meeting. That would surely ruin the image of perfection he had consistently been upholding.

But why would that matter?

The apothecary would continue to value him as a customer. Why was he suddenly concerned about how your father would view him? The direction of his own thoughts was beginning to baffle him.

Before he could become lost in his thoughts, he reached the farm and was struck by its beauty and meticulous upkeep. His admiration for you swelled, knowing that it was your work that had created such a splendid place. Ryu's Apothecary was known for its top-notch herbs and medicine, and now he understood why. His respect for you grew immensely, realising that you were the mastermind behind it all. After taking in the full view of the farm, he finally spotted you.

Is that what a fairy looks like?

The moment he spotted you amidst the herbs you were planting, he felt as if his breath had been stolen away. He already thought you were pretty before, but now, seeing you in your white and blue hanbok among the lush greenery, passionately engaged in your work, you looked even more enchanting to him.

"Ah, Physician Jung, you're here!" you exclaimed, pulling him out of his reverie with a wave of your hand, "Hurry over, I'm about to harvest this batch of Sophora roots. There's probably some valuable information here for you to learn from this."

"Right away, Miss Ryu!" he replied eagerly, rushing over to join you.

Without delay, you plunged into your work while explaining the herb to him, "This, right here, is the Sophora flavescens, native to China and Japan. Its antibacterial, antiviral, and antifungal properties make it useful in treating conditions such as damaged livers, jaundice, eczema, ulcers, and more. I know it looks nothing like the completed product you're used to seeing, but that's because it requires several seasons of drying after harvesting before it's ready for use."

While he knew he should focus on the herbs, he found it difficult to tear his gaze away from your face. The subtle furrow of your brows and the delicate bite of your lips when you weren't speaking—adorable. Wait, did he really just think that? He'd never had such thoughts before. Sure, he'd treated plenty of beautiful ladies throughout his career, but this occurrence was a first.

"Interestingly, this plant can grow up to 5 to 7 feet tall. Even taller than you, isn't it quite amazing?" you remarked, noticing his lack of response. Frowning, you turned to him and sighed when you realised he wasn't paying attention. With a gentle nudge on his shoulder, you snapped him out of his trance.

"O-oh, sorry, you were saying?" he muttered, embarrassed to be caught zoning out.

"I... never mind. Could you please fetch the root puller from that tool rack?" you requested, opting to delegate rather than have him kneel in the dirt beside you. Perhaps he was starting to regret coming here, realising it wasn't his cup of tea. Not that you minded; he could leave if he wanted to. After all, he was the one who asked to be here. The least he could do was listen.

"Absolutely!" he responded, heading toward the tool rack to retrieve what you asked for.

Making his way toward the tool rack, he chastised himself for leaving such a poor impression. It was only your first session together, yet he was struggling to stay focused. Gosh, you must be judging him so hard right now, and he couldn't even blame you. You were kind enough to share your knowledge of herbs at his request, and here he was, lost in daydreams instead of paying attention. Determined to redeem himself, he resolved to be more useful.

Pull yourself together, Jung Yunho.

However, the doctor was so absorbed in his thoughts that he failed to notice the patch of ground still damp from your earlier watering. You did a double-take when you saw him unknowingly heading towards the wet path instead of taking the drier route.

"Wait, Physician Jung! You'll slip and fall if you go that way!" Your words of warning went unheeded, and you sprang up from your position on the ground in alarm, "Yunho! Yah, Jung Yunho!" In a panic, you dashed toward him, your eyes widening as he stepped onto the wet soil just as you reached out to grab his arm and redirect him.

But it was too late.

"You bloody idiot!" Your shout echoed across the farm as he let out a yelp, his arms instinctively encircling you as he toppled backwards, shielding you from the fall as he landed on the wet ground.

Your breath caught as you landed on his chest, faces mere inches apart, hearts racing. Huh, how have you not realised how good-looking he actually is? Wait, what? Before either of you could react, your father's voice rang out from the entrance, "Oh dear, what's with all the shouting, sunshine? Is everything alright—"

"F-father, I can explain..."

The apothecary blinked at the unexpected sight before him: his daughter atop the handsome and intelligent Physician Jung. God must have heard his prayers. With a grin, he chuckled, "Well, well! Seems like everything's more than alright! I won't intrude any further. Back to work for me!"

"N-no, Mr. Ryu! It's not like that at all!"

With a gulp, he turned to face you again, only to find you glaring down at him, "Let me go," you muttered, and he immediately loosened his grip, "O-oh, my bad." He moved to sit up as soon as you were off him, only to smile sheepishly up at you when he felt the back of his outfit completely soaked. Not only did he fail to help you with anything, but he was now causing you more trouble.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you raised a fist threateningly towards him, "I'll get you some new clothes to change into. Stay here and don't move, or else..."

"Y-yes, ma'am."

« Preview of Part 2 »

"Oh, my poor Yunho. I can't believe that happened," Lady Park cooed, trying to suppress her laughter as she comforted the flustered physician after completing her weekly check-up. He was really beginning to regret his decision to confide in her.

"I shouldn't have told you about it, ugh. And to think you'd be the only one not to tease me," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away from her.

Lady Park softened, "I'm not teasing you, silly. You're always so serious and uptight, it's just refreshing to see you like this for once. Besides, there's nothing wrong with having feelings for someone, especially at your age. You should really consider settling down."

He scoffed, a blush creeping up his cheeks, "What? That's funny, I-I didn't say anything about liking anyone, my lady."

"You don't have to. It's written all over your handsome face," she smiled knowingly, "Hwa has that same look often, so I think I'd know better than you, Physician Jung."

Perhaps she had a point; he still couldn't shake the memory of that incident from his mind. The sensation of holding you close lingered, strangely comforting. He started to grasp why couples found solace in such intimacy. Maybe the idea of settling down, and having someone to come home to after a long day wouldn't be so bad. Maybe—

"What are you two talking about? Didn't the check-up end ages ago?" the general's voice jolted him back to the present.

"Nothing at all, my lord," he stammered, caught off guard.

Seonghwa arched an eyebrow sceptically, "You really expect me to believe you'd spent an hour talking about nothing with my wife? So, what were you doing together then?"

"Oh my god, nothing! We just talked, okay?"

"Right, now fill me in. Suit yourself if you don't want to. My wife will tell me everything eventually; just so you know, we don't keep secrets from each other."

Slapping a palm against his forehead, the physician wished he'd kept his mouth shut, "Alright, but promise not to tell anyone. If Hongjoong catches wind of this, I'll never hear the end of it."

"Deal."

Holy sheeeet, thank you all so much for 1.7k followers! I was sleep-deprived asf while proofreading lmao I hope this one was decent HAHA I promise the next part will be more interesting!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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#edenesth #the way to this heart #little touch of heaven #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #jung yunho #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #historical au #joseon era #yunho x reader #yunho x you #ateez fic

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