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banquetwriter · 4 months

Note

Johnnie x reader and he’s just super loud during sex moaning and whining

୨୧ Deep moans ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ not edited we die like men, smut with heavy plot, panic attacks, sorta drunk smut, not safe sex, cum fingering lol, lowkey dom!r vibes

summary: ʚ Johnnies feelings for you cause him to freak out, luckily your there to calm him down •smut• ɞ

Words: 2805

An: HIIII YALLLL SOREY IRS A DAY LATE HHEEGE also this fic was inspired by the middle picture hehe

SUPPORT ME

Johnnie was scrolling away on his phone. Not doing anything useful at all. Just messing around on Twitter. He was supposed to go to a punk show with you tonight. Alone. Just the two of you. Jake being the supportive friend he was, tried and failed to set the two of you up.

You were pretty, and funny, and you made his heart race quicker whenever he was around you. Plus you smelled good. Which was a creepy thing to say but it was true. Tonight wasn't even supposed to be a not-date ‘date’. It was supposed to be you Scuff and him all hanging out at a show then maybe a bar after.

Lucky for him Scuff canceled last minute leaving the plans to the two of you. He assumed that meant the plans were off. He was mistaken.

You enthusiastically told him how much you wanted to go with him tonight. That didn't help his ever-growing feelings for you.

So there he sat on your couch awkwardly looking around as you finished getting ready. He could hear you walking around your room, your boots making enough noise to reach the living room.

“Ok ok, I'm ready,” you say, stepping out of your room. Fuck. You looked good as hell. He felt his cheeks heat up slightly looking at you quickly putting his phone away. “Took you long enough.” he joked, staring at you.

“Hey hush, it takes time for a girl to get pretty,” you murmur, flicking your hair back dramatically. “Oh, don't I know it.” Johnnie sarcastically flicked his dead hair back in the same dramatic fashion.

You both laugh at his joke. Your heart flutters watching his smile spread as he laughs. You quickly push your feelings down as you both sit in silence for a few seconds. Johnnie doesn't say anything just looking down avoiding eye contact of any kind.

“Ok let me call Uber,” you say quickly pulling your phone out. You type around and order the car looking at up Johnnie who is just sitting on his phone. “Hey don't look so bored,” you say putting your phone down.

He looks up from his phone with a small smile. “Sorry,” he mumbles, pushing his phone in his pocket. “I know we aren't going with a big group or anything but I promise I'm fun to be around,” you tell him walking up.

You were so close he could practically feel your breath. “I-I know that. I'm just like, anxiety blah,” he mumbles shrugging. He knows your ‘fun’. He was more worried about going to a show with lots of people.

That anxiety sat with him, in the Uber and all the way to the venue. It rested on his shoulder like a terrible angel as you both walked in after getting a stamp on your hands.

“I'm so excited Johnnie!” you squeal in his ear. It was loud and sorta hot at the place, which was to be expected. He just didn't know how to handle it.

He was already feeling anxious, but he was certain his heart was gonna leap out of his chest when you suddenly took his hand and led him to a good spot. Your hands were so soft. You went up behind someone who just didn't seem to want to get out of the way, Johnnie stood right behind you.

Your cold bracelets touching his hand were all too much input. Eventually whoever was in your way left and you found a spot upstairs next to the railing. “This is such a good spot!” you exclaim looking back at him. He looked down at you with a smile and, while still holding your hand, he looked out at the stage.

You were right, it was an amazing view. What he was more focused on was your hands still holding his hand. You pulled out your phone and let go. Johnnie feels ashamed at how much he misses holding your hand.

You pull up your camera app and hold it up to get both of you in it. “Here wait come closer,” you say, scooting back slightly. He furrows his brows slightly and rests his head on your shoulder for the picture.

You stick your tongue in the corner of your mouth and snap the picture. “Hehe thank you” you mumble uploading the photo to your Instagram story with a song from the band you were seeing.

You put your phone away as the show begins. Johnnie moves his body slightly watching you headbang to the music. He enjoyed metal music to a degree but he was mostly here for you.

As the night rolled on he had more and more fun as you forced him to dance. He smiled at you as you screamed for the new band that appeared on stage.

However, the beautiful bliss that the two of you existed in was shortly ruined as some people you knew from somewhere came up and said hi to you. Johnnie didn't know them and was subsequently left alone for a few minutes as you attempted to catch up with your friends.

He tried to focus on the band playing but he couldn't seem to as the anxiety creeped back into his throat. “Hey I'm gonna go get a drink at the bar if you want anything?” you yelled. “Yeah get me a Jack and Coke,” he yelled back.

Maybe if he got drunk this feeling would go away. He felt like he might throw up and die from the feeling that filled his bones. Some of your friends hung around the same spot as they waited for you.

Did they know you were with him? Were they judging him somehow? He was relieved when you appeared back about 10 minutes later with several drinks in your hand. “Ok, who got this freaky-looking blue one?” you ask.

One of your friends raises their hands and you step towards them, they take the drink from your arms as you look down. “Oh here is your Jack and Coke Johnnie,” you mumble, stepping towards him, he picks the drink up and immediately starts sipping it.

He doesn't have just one drink. He was surely gonna be hungover tomorrow. However, with the added alcohol, it was harder and harder to think rationally. He leaned against the railing feeling his heart breaking at your laugh with your friends.

He wishes he could be like that. He rubs his hands in the face. Cringing at how he feels. You were just his friend, someone who took enough pity on him to hang out. It felt like there were a million bees in his ears.

“Hey let's go ok?” your voice brought him out of his state. “What?” he asked, looking at you. “I called an Uber, let's go home ok? You don't look ok right now,” you yelled over the music. He could swear his heart stopped when you said those words.

He froze, not able to return to real life. “Come on.” you beckoned once again taking his hand and leading him out of the venue. You both get into the Uber, your hands not leaving one another.

In the same way, his eyes didn't leave you for more than a few seconds. He was so grateful for someone like you to be in his life. You made it back to your apartment, both of you drunkenly stumbling in.

“Sit down, I'll get you some water,” you said, making your way to the kitchen. He sat down taking the glass with a ‘thank you’. You say down next to him, moving your hand up to his face and adjusting his hair. He was certain he would burn a hole into you from how much he was staring.

You took the glass out of his hand and set it down. “What's wrong? You looked like you were gonna cry,” you asked him, your gaze full of nothing but worry. “I was just having a panic attack,” he told you, looking away.

You once again lifted your hand up and moved his cheek so he faced you. “Why? Did I do something wrong?” you ask. “No! No, you didn't I just-” he sighs, unsure of how to delicately tell you, that he was so in love with you he almost couldn't bear it.

That the thought of you with someone else was nearly enough to kill him. “Listen I need to tell you something, and before I tell you I want to tell you I'm so sorry. I don't want this to affect our friendship-” his mouth suddenly feels dry.

You don't say anything, you sit silently staring at him. “Mm fuck.” he mumbles burying his face in his hands slightly. You reach your hand out and pull his hands away from his face slightly, you scoot forward. You kept your hand on his eyes searching his.

This certainly wasn't helping. “I-I mmm fuck. I'm sorry. I've developed feelings for you, and I know that can ruin friendships, which is the last thing I want with you. I never meant for this to happen and I'm really sorry.” he braced for you to take your hand away.

But you didn't. You looked up at him. He couldn't tell what you were thinking. He was hoping you would say something, anything, to relieve an ounce of stress. But you said nothing, instead, you pulled him directly into a hug.

He reciprocates the contact, squeezing you close. “Did you seriously think I never liked you back?” you asked, pulling away from him. “Yeah,” he whispers, unable to get his voice much louder. “Sometimes you can be so dumb,” you mumble with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he says with a laugh looking at you. “Don't be. And I'm sorry you worried yourself sick over this, Johnnie since the moment I met you I knew I wanted to be with you. I wanted to tell you I just had to wait until I knew you felt the same.” you confessed.

Johnnie felt like a million pounds had been lifted off of his chest. “So what do we do from here?” he asked, looking at you. “I think there is only one thing we can do,” you whispered back to him. You closed the gap between the two of you. Your lips are crashing against his.

He feels his face heat up as you push his shoulders down slightly. He lays down on the couch as you start to crawl on top of him tasting the liquor on his breath. Your hips rest against his as your hands start to slide up his button-up.

You pull your lips apart for a second, you find his hands and guide him to your shirt. He gets the hunt and fumbles to lift it off your body. You aid him and it reveals your torso.

He stares slightly for a second seeing your tits spill out of your bra. You smirk at his staring, wasting no time unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He shrugged his shirt off revealing all of his tattoos. His hands found your waist as you pulled him back into another kiss.

You used your hips to grind down on him, his boner resting nicely on your clit. Your pressure causes him to whine out. You pull away from him, moving your hands to unlock your bra.

“Take your pants off,” you instruct him. He is on his hands in an instant, you rip your bra off and sit up to take yours off as well. Johnnie's hands falter as he stares at your tits. “Don't get distracted.” you chastise. A grin spreads on his face as he feels blood rushing to his face and his dick.

You revel in his body, his tattoo-covered chest rising and falling. You lick your lips slightly as you walk back to where Johnnie is lying down on the couch. Your hand wraps around his jaw, lifting his head up and pulling him into a kiss.

Your other hand roams his body. He whines slightly into your mouth with the contact. His erection grew painfully with your attention.

His whining only increased as your lips moved to his neck, sucking and hitting on his skin. The marks left in your wake didn't leave for days after. Your delicate fingers slid up and down his torso.

“Mm fuck.” he whines wiggling his in anticipation. You notice his struggle and slide your hands all the way down to his bare hips. You pin him down slightly. That only encourages bucking. “You gotta hold still for me baby,” you mumble, bringing your hand down to his aching cock.

“Mhm,” he whines, nodding his head. “I can do that,” he whispered, watching your hand start to massage his hip bones. He sharply inhaled looking at your eyes as they darkened with desire. You turn and begin to straddle his lap.

He leans back on his elbows watching as you begin to place delicate kisses on the tip of his cock. He clenches his jaw in an attempt to hold back the moan that threatens to rip through his throat as you make your way down his cock.

His attempts fail as he lets out a high-pitched screech that he quickly attempts to conceal with his hand. “Oh that part is extra sensitive huh?” you coo batting your eyelashes before placing a lick up a vein.

“Jesus fuck you're going to kill me.” he whimpered. “Oh I don't plan on killing you sweet thing, but I'll get you close,” you whispered, against his neck. “Oh god,” he mutters as your hand slowly wraps around his aching cock.

His hands find their way to the dip of your back nearly drawing blood from his scratches. The combination of your grinding your cunt down on his side, your soft hand tightly fucking his cock, and your warm wet kiss spread out against your neck and chest he wasn't going to last long.

His cute little whimpers and moans only drove you further and further to your own end but you weren't going to get it simply from grinding your cunt against him. You let your ministrations stop pulling away from him. His worried eyes slowly grow excited as you reposition yourself above his cock.

You pumped it a few times before beginning to tease your clit and entrance with it. “Oh god.” he whimpered into the back of his hand as you teased his tip.

You decided to pity him and let yourself sink all the way down onto him. As you bottom out, we both gasped in sync. His hands found my waist as I slammed down on top of him. Unable to contain his sounds any longer, he let every pant, moan, and whine out.

Johnnie sounded like a bitch in heat as watched your delicious cunt swallow him whole. “Please don't stop holy fuck.” he mutters starting unable to see clearly as he feels the coil threatening to snap in his stomach. He tries to reach out and help you somehow.

You quickly swat his hands away, wishing to see his own pleasure rather than your own. His pretty whines and the faces he was making were worth it to hold off for a little longer.

And rewarded you were, with a particularly quick pump of your body let Johnnie finally unravel all the stress he had felt tonight. “Oh Jesus fuck.” his incoherent curse was lost in a sea of moans as he fucked himself into you shooting hot ropes of cum.

“Oh fuck oh my god,” he whined coming down from the high. You slow your pace to a stop watching him attempt to lift himself up. “Did you finish yet?” he asks, still panting.

“No, not yet.” you wander looking down at him. “Sit back,” he murmurs, gesturing towards the couch. You smirked but complied and sat down on the couch, Johnnie brought his fingers into your hair kissing you deeply. He brought his free hand down to yours and guided it to your clit.

You got the hint and started to pleasure yourself. He brought the still-free hand down and slipped a finger into your sopping cunt. After a second of pumping his finger in and out he slipped in two.

Your orgasim approached rapidly as it was your turn to moan. Johnnie swallowed every last one as he curled deep, hitting your g spot. “I'm gonna cum.” you warned as your legs shook.

Johnnie didn't stop his movements and let you cling to him as you rode out your organism. Your pretty moans felt like prayers to his ears. As you began to fall from your high he removed his fingers from you and placed a very loving and gentle kiss on the top of your head.

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #jake and johnnie #johnnie x you #johnnie x reader #johnnie guilbert angst #johnnie #johnnie guilbert one shot #johnnie guilbert smut #sub!johnnie guilbert

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evangelical04 · 2 months

Text

A Single Daffodil || 5

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, slight smut in this chapter but not really

Author's Note: hi everyone! sorry it took so long to get this out, but I literally (finally) got my car back yesterday and wrote almost this entire thing today lol. thank you guys so much for being so patient with me, I really appreciate it. I'm hoping to get the next part out super soon but I hope this is good for you guys for now!! as always, please let me know what you guys think, I love to hear your feedback

TAGLIST CLOSED

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daises-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @honeyypages @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @yoongibaybee @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @weareatthebadlands @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeomeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @praetae @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @wobblewobble822 @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309

previous / masterlist / next

The night had given your frustration towards Yoongi some time to deflate, but you still felt it bubbling deep inside your consciousness. You weren’t one to hold a grudge necessarily, not outright at least, but you would never forget either. Joohee said that made you even more dangerous, but you liked to think it made you amicable. The next morning brought you to a lazy Sunday where you had initially wanted to bum around in your bed but the small items scattered around your floor reminded you of the tasks you had yet to finish.

Your morning was spent tinkering with your console and Blu-Ray player to get them to connect properly with your TV and the wifi, and while you struggled, you refused to ask Yoongi for help. It was a bad habit of yours, avoiding those you were mad at or were mad at you. It certainly hadn’t worked with your mother, but then again, she’d barely been home to avoid in the first place.

Thoughts of Yoongi swirled around in your head as you finished cleaning up your room and organizing everything. His behavior last night still stumped you. Logically, the only explanation was that he was jealous. Whether it was of Namjoon or you, you weren’t sure. You were too scared to entertain the thought that he might be jealous of Namjoon, the way your heart sped up was dangerous. Even if it was the correct explanation, could you even allow yourself to hope like that?

You fell backward onto your bed in a huff, it was safer to think he was just angry at you and Namjoon for getting close because it was “mixing personal lives”. Any other reasoning was going to send you down a spiral of confusion, want, and optimism. Just as you resigned yourself to a well-deserved midday nap, your phone buzzed on the bedside table next to you. Groaning out, you reached around for your phone, eventually finding it and seeing Hoseok’s contact blaring on the screen.

You swiped to answer the call, throwing the phone down next to you on speaker, “What?”

“Geez, don’t you sound grumpy.”

“It’s because I am.”

“Well, okay then, live your life, I guess. Anyway, guess what happened,” Hoseok responded excitedly.

“What?”

“The guy my old boss recommended said yes! We’re gonna start looking at studio spaces together, I’m opening up a dance school!”

You sat up, taking the phone off speaker and bringing it to your ear, “Hobi, that’s great! I can’t believe that, I’m so excited for you!”

“I can’t believe this is finally happening! It feels like this has been in the making since college,” Hoseok exclaimed, you could hear him pacing around in his room through the phone.

“You deserve it so much, Hobi, I’m so happy for you,” you smiled, and you did mean it. You knew how hard Hoseok had worked through college, surviving on a scholarship and battling down criticisms for choosing a dance major. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he would succeed and you were happy to watch him do just that.

“Do you want to meet him? We’re having dinner together tomorrow and I wanted you and Joohee to be there.”

“Of course I will, I’ll need to see you guys to prep for going back to work next week anyway. Just text me the details and I’ll be there,” you responded, picking at the seams of your comforter at the mention of you resuming your job.

“Will do,” Hoseok responded excitedly and hung up after a quick goodbye.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your work, far from it in fact, but it was the questions that would inevitably come with your return that you dreaded. The glittering ring on your finger would fuel the rumor mill and lead to empty celebrations and congratulations, not to mention questions surrounding your mysterious husband.

Song Ha would probably be the only one not asking much about the wedding, but only because she attended. You hadn’t been able to talk with her during the reception, too overwhelmed and swept up in the flurry of high-profile guests. You certainly felt guilty for not having been able to see her but you knew she would understand, she was sweet that way.

No, Song Ha was dangerous in the fact that she had seen Yoongi, and she would be ready with a list of questions to ask you when you stepped into the office the following week. Once Song Ha started the questions about Yoongi, the others would only join in, adding to the pressure you felt to appear like a normal, happy bride.

Abruptly, you stood up. Now wasn’t the time for sulking and self-pity. Determined, you stomped towards the door, ready to fling it open and face Yoongi with your head held high. But as you reached the handle, your fingers curling around the edge, ready to rip it open, you hesitated.

Facing Yoongi sounded even more draining right now, the idea of his upturned frown staring down at you was less than appealing. His hot and cold attitude was taxing and you were tired of trying to understand his actions.

Coming up with explanations for his bizarre attitude and trying to make sense of his lingering gazes was less than appealing to your exhausted mind. But, you reminded yourself, this was technically your space too and you couldn’t just stay in your room the whole time. Besides, you wanted a snack and why should Yoongi stop you?

Shaking your head, you steeled your resolve and opened your door. You couldn’t hear anything coming from the living room or kitchen so you continued your venture down the stairs. Yoongi was nowhere in sight and you silently celebrated, at least you wouldn’t have to worry about him right now.

You reached the kitchen, rifling around for some chips before settling on a small packet you found tucked away in the cupboard. As you began making your way back to your room to enjoy your snack, the front door opened and Yoongi entered, running a hand through messy black hair.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re awake,” he said, stopping at the couch once he saw you.

You nodded curtly, “Yes, good afternoon.” You had been so close to going without dealing with him but it seemed like the universe had different plans in mind for you. It felt a little mean to be so blunt with him but seeing his stupid, perfectly shaped face ignited the remaining rage you had left in you from the previous night. Even though it was a new day, all you could think about was how he’d treated you like some child that needed to be looked after. It made your fist clench around the chips bag, the crinkling noise sounding much louder in the quiet living room.

When you continued your trek toward the stairs, Yoongi called out for you.

“Y/N,” he said, slightly louder than his normal volume, “Can we talk for a second, please?”

You turned to face him, silently waiting for him to continue. What could he possibly have to say?

“I’m sorry about last night,” he started, surprising you, “I was thinking about it when we got home and the way I’ve been acting has been unacceptable and I’m sorry that I treated you unfairly.”

You felt your eyes widen at his apology and you stuttered a response, “O-oh, it’s fine, really.” A habit of yours, to dismiss any apology that comes your way, to pretend like you were unbothered.

Yoongi shook his head, “It’s not. I was getting confused and treating this,” he gestured between you, “Like something it’s not, I’m sure that was annoying at the least for you. I’ll be sure to maintain a proper distance from hereon out, I don’t want to meddle in your life.”

You blinked back, confused by his statement, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I was acting like a husband when we’d agreed to keep ourselves separate from each other. I had no right to get upset with you or to treat you like a kid, and I’m sorry.”

“Um, okay,” you stammered, “I’m just going to go up then.”

Yoongi nodded, turning away and walking into his office. You walked up the stairs in an almost trance-like state, you had no idea what to make of that conversation.

You should be happy that he apologized but why did it seem like the outcome wasn’t what you wanted? He said he’d maintain some distance between you two from now on, that isn’t what you wanted. Or wasn’t it?

Throwing the bag of chips on your bedside table, you collapsed onto your duvet, you didn’t know what you wanted! You knew you wanted Yoongi to apologize but you didn’t want him to push you further away. You wanted him to explain why he got upset, if you were reading into things too much, if he was starting to feel something for you. You wanted him to be clear, and that conversation was anything but.

I was getting confused and treating this like something it’s not.

What did that mean? What did he mean he was getting confused? You were supposed to be the confused one.

Chips now long forgotten, you flipped over in your bed and reached for your phone, opting to occupy your brain with mindless scrolling rather than try to make sense of Yoongi’s words.

Despite how much you tried to distract yourself, the conversation with Yoongi still swirled around in your mind like a rampant tornado, hitting the corners of your brain and disrupting your every thought. You hadn’t managed to figure anything else out, you’d only been able to work yourself into a frenzy and feel even more confused.

Glancing at your watch, you noted that only a few hours had passed and it was around time for dinner, but you didn’t want to risk seeing Yoongi and spiraling once more, not that you had clawed your away out of your current spiral either.

Instead, you opted to skip dinner for tonight, not feeling particularly hungry anyway, and tried to pass the time until you felt drowsiness kick in. Your method of choice was just playing a relaxing game in your bed until your eyelids felt heavy and you drifted off in a rather uncomfortable position for your neck. You didn’t even notice yourself falling asleep, much less find the energy to fix your position to avoid a sore neck.

That night you dreamt of yourself in a dark room with no visible walls and it almost felt cold but the sensation didn’t seem like it was coming from your surroundings, it felt like it was underneath your skin.

You looked around frantically, for anything, and your eyes caught on a sliver of shiny black hair with slightly pale skin underneath. The figure reached out a hand for you and you tried to run toward it but found yourself unable to move. No matter how hard you pushed your legs, flailed, and grasped for the outstretched hand, it felt like there was an invisible wall preventing you from moving forward. In your struggle, you failed to notice the hand slowly retract and only realized once the figure started to move further and further away. You felt yourself shout after it but no sound escaped your throat.

Finally, you managed to break free from the invisible barrier and began running after the figure. Your limbs felt like lead and your lungs were struggling to take in air, but you persisted, chasing after the retreating figure and uselessly shouting for it to stop. Once it seemed like you were finally closing in on it, the ground beneath you disappeared and you fell into the dark chasm below, seeing the figure watching from the edge.

It did not try to reach out a hand to grab you.

The next morning had you feeling more grateful than ever that you still had another week off from work, although it was your last. You had awoken feeling drained and anxious, unable to remember your dream from the night prior. The only thing you did recall was falling, only because it made you wake with a start in bed at around three in the morning. You were tucked in nicely into your duvet then but it had become messy once your alarm went off later. You had set your alarm for later in the day than you usually did for work since you hadn’t wanted to get up early but also not sleep in too late.

The clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen indicated Mrs. Lim’s presence and you sleepily got dressed and walked downstairs to greet her and get some tea. She neglected to comment on your haphazard appearance and instead presented you with an already-brewed cup of tea. Smiling gratefully at her, you took a seat at the counter and made quiet conversation.

“Would you like anything in particular for dinner tonight,” Mrs. Lim asked.

“No, thank you, I’ll be meeting some friends for dinner.”

“Oh, how lovely. You should really invite them here, Mr. Min wouldn’t mind,” Mrs. Lim added cheerfully.

You held back a scoff, “Yes, well, I guess I’m still getting comfortable.”

Mrs. Lim smiled kindly, “Of course, dear, I’m sure all of this is difficult to get used to.”

You weren’t sure if she was just talking about Yoongi’s apartment, but you nodded in agreement nonetheless.

“Oh, Mrs. Lim, could you actually prepare some samgyeopsal for dinner tonight? I think Yoongi is in desperate need of it,” you mentioned, recalling how tired he’d looked last night.

Mrs. Lim only smiled knowingly, nodding gently before resuming her tasks.

Your phone buzzed on the countertop, drawing your attention.

To: Milf Club (est. 2014)

Joo-nie:

what’s the dress code for the restaurant tonight

do i have to break out my razor

Hoebi:

Uhhh the restaurant is kinda fancy so maybe?

Idrk tbh this dude said the place was good but it looked fancy lmao

You:

i’ll wear a dress joo, so you can too

Joo-nie:

ty queen

wear the little black one makes you look hot

Hoebi:

What should I wear to look hot

Joo-nie:

don’t show up

Hoebi:

Owie

You:

i’ll send a pic later when i get dressed

BUT it’s still minimal makeup

you guys are gonna have to see my massive eyebags

Hoebi:

They’re your most charming quality <3

You:

damn that’s a low bar

Hoebi:

See you guys tonight!! Be there at 6, don’t be late!

That was aimed at you, Joo

Joo-nie:

rude

You smiled fondly at your friends’ messages before setting your phone down and turning your attention back to Mrs. Lim, asking how her weekend went.

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly and Mrs. Lim soon went home after her responsibilities were completed. She had ended up shooing you out of her sight after you’d insisted on helping her out with the cleaning, citing boredom as the reason, but she was having none of it. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon lazing in your bed and feeling unproductive.

It was difficult to relax properly while not working because you felt as though you should be doing something else, but you didn’t have anything to do. Part of you was excited to get back to work to occupy yourself but another part of you was concerned over how easily you fell into a depressive mood. It was just another reason to start looking into therapy.

With nothing to entertain your mind with, your thoughts continuously shifted to Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him since that odd conversation where he promised to keep more distance between you, leaving you confused and lost. You still were.

He felt impossible to read. Every time you thought you were about to figure it out, he threw a curveball at you and made you stumble on your path to a logical conclusion. The more you thought about his actions leading up to and at the gala, the more they seemed to point to jealousy. The problem was, you couldn’t figure out a plausible reason he would have to be jealous. Obviously, the overarching reason would be that he has feelings for you, but he didn’t have a reason to. The man hadn’t tried to get to know you at all, you’d barely had five conversations since the wedding. How could he possibly have feelings for you?

And Yoongi didn’t seem like the type to show possessiveness over someone he had shallow feelings for, nor did Yoongi seem like the type to develop shallow feelings. In your mind, he oscillated between someone who didn’t like commitment in any form to someone who wholly devoted himself to getting to know someone before developing feelings for them. However, it was impossible for you to come to a conclusion. Just like in your own reasoning for Yoongi’s feelings, you barely knew him and there was no way for you to make these judgments.

What you would give to understand what’s going through his mind.

By the time your alarm went off at five, you were still lost in your thoughts, mindlessly playing a farming sim, mainly because your wife in there was much easier to understand than Yoongi. The alarm startled you out of your stupor and jolted you into action, scrambling things together to get ready for Hoseok’s dinner. You had showered in the morning so your hair would be dry by the time the dinner came, and you were happy you’d had the forethought.

Rifling through your closet, you pulled out the black dress that Joohee had mentioned, a form-fitting cocktail dress you’d picked up on a shopping trip with her. The square neckline complimented your decolletage and the fabric seemed to hug your curves just right, only slightly puckering around your hips. Your hair didn’t need much styling, opting to leave it natural, and your makeup was minimal, not feeling the energy to put in more effort.

You made your finishing touches, surveying your appearance in your mirror, and were satisfied. A glance at your watch told you that you were right on time, but that you didn’t have a minute to lose, so you hastened your pace to the door to head downstairs. Before you made it past your bedroom door, your eyes caught on your wedding ring, sitting on your vanity. You bit the inside of your cheek, considering whether you should put it on.

Whatever, you fumed internally, snatching it and sliding it onto your finger. It’s not like it mattered anyway but you’d grown to enjoy the feeling of the cool metal against your skin and fiddling with it when nervous.

You were somewhat surprised to see Yoongi sitting on the couch enjoying a glass of whiskey, not having expected him back from work this early. He had already changed out of his suit and into a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, looking like the epitome of comfort with his messy hair, likely from pulling the shirt over his head. You hated how attractive he looked and the way it made your stomach turn and your heartbeat speed up. He noticed your presence hovering at the end of the living room before looking you over, his feline eyes watching you from above the rim of his glass. His gaze made heat bloom all over your body and you could only pray that he couldn’t tell how flustered you felt.

You were supposed to be mad at him, damn it.

Although, were you allowed to now that he’d apologized? But that apology wasn’t what you’d wanted, not that you knew what you wanted.

Sighing internally, you decided to remain cold with him. He’d wanted to reemphasize the distance between you two, so he’d get that.

Settling for a curt nod, you walked past him into the foyer to slip on some simple, block heels, bending down to secure the straps. Yoongi cleared his throat behind you, causing you to turn back to face him.

“Going out?”

“Yes,” you answered, pausing for a moment, pondering if you should tell him who you were meeting, considering his reaction to Hoseok last time. Maybe it was petty of you, but part of you wanted to push his buttons as much as he was pushing yours, wanted to make him annoyed and angry, just as much as you were at him.

“I’m meeting Hobi for dinner,” you finished, confidently staring him down. His eyebrow twitched and you saw his gaze narrow, but he didn’t show much of a reaction outside of that.

“Alright, have fun,” he said curtly, turning his attention back to his phone and whiskey. You almost scoffed at his standoffish attitude, but ultimately shrugged. You didn’t have the energy in you to be bothered by him.

You did a final check of your belongings before opening the door and heading downstairs to catch a cab to the restaurant, you had a feeling you’d be drinking at some point tonight. In your haste, you missed the way Yoongi’s eyes followed your form, watching you leave without a glance in his direction.

The restaurant certainly seemed fancy, it looked like Hoseok’s business partner had quite the expensive taste. You exited the cab as gracefully as you could in a cocktail dress and entered, immediately spotting Hoseok’s bright smile and energetic wave signaling you over. The hostess smiled, letting you pass to sit at the table he was at. He stood as you approached, enveloping you in a tight hug before releasing you and letting you sit across from him. As you settled in, you took the opportunity to observe his business partner, who was sitting beside him.

He was quite pretty, with a round, angelic face and plump lips, and his hair was a soft grey, tousled atop his head. He smiled at you, eyes crinkling, making them look closed, which only made you smile widely in response.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Park Jimin,” he introduced, bowing slightly.

“Nice to meet you as well, I’m Seo Y/N,” you responded, returning the bow, “Hobi has been telling me how excited he is to be opening up a studio with you.”

Jimin’s face lit up, smiling even wider, “Yes! I’m so excited, it’s the whole reason I did my MBA. I’m just hoping we can find a good studio space.”

You nodded along to his words, noticing that he tended to become quite excited when he talked, similar to the man sitting next to him.

“By the way, I love your dress,” Jimin exclaimed, startling you with the sudden compliment.

“Oh, thank you,” you stumbled, “I love your hair and eye makeup.”

Jimin smiled, which he seemed to do quite often, also similar to Hoseok, “Thanks! I wanted to try out a fancy look since I was meeting Hoseok’s friends.”

“They’re not worth the effort,” Hoseok teased, making you gasp in fake indignation, “Where’s Joo, by the way, it’s already fifteen past.”

“She’ll probably be late,” you said, trying to soothe the worry lines appearing on Hoseok’s face, “You know how she is.”

“That’s what worries me,” he responded, only making you laugh.

“I’m here! I made it,” Joohee stumbled in, speedwalking to your table before ruffling Hoseok’s hair in greeting, “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

She slides in beside you, bowing a greeting to Jimin, “Hobi’s told us so much, he’s been really excited to work with you.”

“Thanks,” Jimin laughed, “I’m excited to work with him too. Opening up a studio has always been my dream, and Hoseok feels like the perfect partner.”

You both smile at Jimin’s words before starting to fuss over the menu and throwing question after question at Jimin to try and get him to open up. Over the course of the dinner, you learn he’s fairly high-maintenance, hence the restaurant choice, but he tends to back it up himself, which he proved when he offered to pay the tab. He tells you about his time in Hoseok’s old dance studio and how he was unsatisfied, so he decided to pursue his MBA in Seoul to eventually open up his own school.

“It was a huge decision to make, I mean, Busan was my home. But I knew opening up my own studio was what I had to do, and I left everything behind to do it, my family, my boyfriend, and my job. It was hard,” he detailed, a glass and a half of wine into the dinner, “But it’ll be worth it, I just know it.”

You smiled at him, “It definitely will be. Whatever you and Hobi do, I just know it’ll take off.”

“And don’t be afraid to let me or Y/N know if you need investors,” Joohee jumped in, “I know plenty of old men with fat pockets.”

Chuckling, you all took a sip of your drinks before Hoseok surprised you with a new line of questioning, “How’s the newly married life so far?”

“Oh, did you just get married,” Jimin asked excitedly, gesturing at the ring encasing your finger, “That’s so exciting, congratulations!”

“Thanks,” you smiled awkwardly, “I did, about a week ago. It’s been good so far, it’s nice.”

You couldn’t get into the specifics with Jimin there, someone whom you’d just met, it’d make things too awkward. Thankfully, Joohee came to your rescue.

“I meant to ask, how’s the studio space hunting going? Hobi’s been touring for that and his own apartment, he must’ve seen half of Seoul by now,” she joked, relieving some of the tension Hoseok’s question incited in you. The dinner conversation continued on pleasantly, but you felt yourself pulling away from your surroundings, your thoughts drifting to your husband.

His behavior was confounding, to say the least, and it had occupied the back of your mind for the past few months, even before you got married. It felt like a constant static itching the corner of your brain, his voice humming in a soundtrack to your thoughts.

The sound of Joohee gathering her things beside you pulled you back into the conversation and noticing they were getting ready to leave. You focused in to hear what they were talking about and learned that it was the terrible housing market in Seoul, leaving you to nod in agreement. You were lucky to score the apartment that you did, which was one of the reasons you were so reluctant to leave it, knowing that you wouldn’t have a place to go if you needed to leave Yoongi’s apartment.

You jumped in with your comments here and there as your group walked to the exit, finally feeling present again, and stopped just outside the restaurant.

“It was really great meeting you both,” Jimin said cheerfully, hugging you and Joohee, “I hope we can meet up again soon!”

“Same here,” you grinned, “We’ll make Hobi create a group chat.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes before calling a cab, “Here, Jimin, let me get one for you. Text me when you’re in your apartment.”

Jimin saluted, grinning, before entering the taxi that had stopped at the curb. He waved until he was out of your line of sight, leaving you to sigh and turn to face your two friends. They stood behind you, arms crossed, and looking at you quite sympathetically.

“What? Is this an intervention,” you joked, but they quickly shook their heads, reigniting your nerves.

“Don’t think I didn’t hear your answer earlier,” Joohee stated, “You clearly need to talk about Yoongi.” Hoseok only nodded in agreement.

You exhaled slowly, clearly, nothing was getting past your friends’ watchful eyes, “Alright, want to go back to my apartment? Hobi’s headed there anyway.”

Hobi only smiled, squeezing your shoulder before signaling for another cab.

“He’s just so confusing, I don’t know what I’m supposed to think,” you sighed frustratedly.

“I agree, I think he’s playing games with you,” Joohee said, swirling her glass before taking a sip of her wine, “He’s being all hot and cold. What is he, fifteen?”

You chuckled, “It feels like I’m fifteen sometimes, the way he makes me feel.”

“I don’t know, maybe he’s just as confused as you are,” Hoseok interjects, causing you to shift your head to look at him. He was sprawled across your loveseat in a ratty t-shirt and sweats, munching on some chips.

Joohee sat up, adjusting in her seat to face him as well, “What do you mean? He’s the one being confusing.” You nodded in agreement.

“Well, guys can be different,” Hoseok started, “Maybe he just doesn’t really understand what’s going on, this situation is new for both of you.”

You leaned back on your couch once more, considering Hoseok’s words while staring at your ceiling.

“Maybe he’s just using the distance excuse as a defense mechanism because he’s confused about how he feels about you,” he continued, “I saw the way he looked at you, Y/N. He definitely cares to some degree.”

You frowned, finding his statement hard to believe, but you tried to put yourself in Yoongi’s shoes nonetheless. Was he really developing feelings for you? Is that why he put more distance between you two, because he was scared? It felt difficult to conceptualize after the months of telling yourself there was no way Yoongi would ever harbor romantic feelings toward you.

“But still,” Joohee interrupted your thoughts, “Even if that is the reason he’s acting this way, wouldn’t that still make him immature? He should have more emotional intelligence than to send mixed signals because he’s confused about his own feelings. Either way, he needs to grow up.”

Hoseok only hummed, tossing another chip in his mouth, but Joohee’s words struck you, making you sit up from your horizontal posture.

“I mean, to be fair, are any of us really grown up,” you verbalized, making Joohee look at you questioningly, “All of us are immature in some way, and he doesn’t have any experience in this kind of situation like Hobi said. He probably went into this thinking that it was going to be more like a business partnership than anything and it hasn’t exactly been like that.”

You sighed, staring into your empty wine glass, “I feel like it’s unfair to hold him accountable for everything as if he’s some kind of villain. He still apologized and he’s been respectful. Whether he has feelings for me or not, he’s still navigating a new dynamic just like me. He’s allowed to make a few mistakes along the way, right?”

Joohee shook her head and smiled at you, “Yes, he is, but he’s still clearly hurting you. I think you guys need to talk this out. Clearly, you’re not on the same page. And even if he is just figuring out new feelings for you or not, you’re not obligated to wait around and find out. You can live your life how you want in the meantime.”

You returned her smile, “Yeah, you’re right, but I kind of feel like I already am. I don’t really have anything that I want to do that I’m not already doing. Honestly, not much has changed for me other than gaining a new, handsome roommate.”

She laughed in response before poking you, “How about going out and meeting someone? You can always take them back here. Yoongi said that he was fine with it, so you should go get laid. I know it’s been a while and you deserve the fun with someone who’s clear about their intents.”

You shrugged, “I know he said he was fine with it, but it still feels like cheating to me. I don’t know, it just makes me feel icky. I’m just not interested, really, just like before I got married.”

Joohee nodded, “Well, nothing wrong with that. I just hope that you’re not doing it because you feel like it’s unfair to Yoongi, he’s been more than clear about his consent.”

You shook your head, “It’s not that. I’d feel this way with anyone, you know how much I hate cheating. I can honestly say that even if Yoongi set me up with someone and went off with someone else, I still wouldn’t. It’s just not appealing to me right now. Maybe that’ll change, who knows?”

“That’s fair,” Joohee hummed, “You shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to. I’m glad you seem good with that at least.”

You nodded, tracing the rim of your glass, “What happened to Hobi? He’s been strangely quiet.”

The both of you turned to look at the loveseat only to see Hoseok’s head hanging off the edge of the cushioned arm, mouth open letting out quiet snores.

You and Joohee giggled before standing to try and transport him to his temporary bed in your guest room. The two of you got ready for bed and soon curled up under your comforter with Joohee whispering, “I hope you get to talk to him. I want things to work out for you.”

“Thanks, Joo,” you whispered back, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Joohee only smiled and mumbled a quick, “I’m lucky to have you too. Goodnight, Y/N-ie.”

You laughed quietly, “Goodnight, Joo.”

When you awoke the next morning, Joohee had already left, having to go back to her apartment to get ready for work. She left a sweet note saying goodbye on your nightstand, making you smile.

You left Hoseok to sleep in, figuring he’d wake up when he wanted. As compensation for his stay in your guest room, you snagged another one of his large shirts since most of your comfy shirts were at Yoongi’s apartment. Rushing through a simple morning routine, you quickly gathered your things to head back to Yoongi’s apartment. You hadn’t intended to stay out during the night, and even though you had a right to, you still felt the same panic you’d felt in your childhood having to face your mom after spending time with your friends.

You scribbled out a note to Hoseok and left it out on the kitchen counter and rushed out the door, making your way to the bus station near your apartment building. It was a fairly long ride over to Yoongi’s apartment, so you settled in with some music and tried to relax your heart. You had no reason to be nervous, Yoongi likely wouldn’t have even noticed. He’d probably be at work by now, not even realizing that you hadn’t come back last night. You watched the people of Seoul through the bus window, walking to their jobs and checking their phones, likening them to what Yoongi probably looked like in the morning on his commute to work. Your fantasy was interrupted by the notion that Yoongi was probably driven to work in a sleek car and rode the elevator to the top floor.

Blinking out of your daze, you noticed only two stops were left until yours and began getting ready to get up. Once you reached, you exited swiftly, making your way inside the building and nodding at the security guard.

After taking the elevator up, you opened the front door as quietly as you could before entering and carefully closing it. You sighed as the silent house, it seemed like Mrs. Lim wasn’t here yet. Breathing a sigh of relief, you turned around to walk upstairs and were immediately startled by Yoongi sitting on the couch, calmly watching your movements.

“Oh! Yoongi-ssi, I didn’t realize you’d be home,” you breathed, practically clutching at your chest, “Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” he hummed, setting his phone down to look at you, observing your frazzled state, “Late night?”

“Um, yeah, kind of,” you stuttered, “Hobi, Joohee, and I were drinking a bit.”

He only nodded, raising his eyebrow slightly, leaving you standing silently and awkwardly. You let out an awkward laugh before scooting around the couch and climbing up the stairs and to the safety of your room. Entering and closing the door behind you had you exhaling loudly and practically collapsing on your bed.

How were you supposed to talk about your relationship with him when you could barely get through a thirty-second exchange?

The rest of the week passed by peacefully with you barely interacting with Yoongi. You were almost relieved if it didn’t only put you more on edge for the weekend. You were dreading having to navigate around him being in the house for the whole day, but you were looking forward to going back to work the following week. You had had enough of lazing around and feeling unproductive, especially when all your friends were still busy so you couldn’t hang out with them. Joohee was working, of course, but Hoseok had finally settled on an apartment and was preparing to move in, leaving you quite lonely in your room.

Friday meant that Yoongi would likely be home late, if at all, because he tended to spend it with his friends as Namjoon had informed you. It left you by your lonesome in the large apartment, where you ended up lying in bed for most of it. The lack of work was really starting to take a toll on you and made you recall when Yoongi’s mother had implied that you should quit when you got married.

The idea made you laugh. If the last two weeks were anything to go by, leaving you with nothing to do during the day would only result in an extended depressive episode. A glance at the clock on your side table let you know that it had gotten late enough in the evening to grab some dinner, which you opted to order in, feeling lazy.

You ate in your room glumly watching some video or other and not really paying attention. You wondered if this weekend would be the one where you had your conversation with Yoongi. How would you even start that? What if he refused to talk to you or got defensive? If the conversation did work out, what would it mean for your relationship with Yoongi? Could you become friends?

The thoughts continued to swirl around in your brain as you gathered your dishes to deposit in the dishwasher and walked to your door. As you reached it, you noted some quiet voices on the ground floor, making your eyebrows raise. Maybe Yoongi’s friends had come?

Shrugging, you opened your door and walked downstairs, turning into the living room and almost dropping your plate in shock.

On the couch, Yoongi was on top of someone else with his hands on their face and supporting him on the couch, notably missing his ring, and kissing whoever was underneath. The sight was startling and troubling, immediately making tears fill your eyes.

You should’ve expected this so why were you so upset?

You didn’t take time to dwell on it and opted to run back to your room instead, but as you hastily turned back towards the stairs, the dishes in your hands slid against each other, making a loud noise.

The noise alerted Yoongi and whoever was underneath him to your presence, making you flinch hard.

“Y/N?”

You faced him with warm cheeks and wet eyes before steeling your expression. He didn’t need to know that you were affected, you refused to let him see you weak because of his actions. His face looked slightly shocked but his messy hair, unbuttoned dress shirt, and swollen lips made your heart hurt. The person underneath him sat up, facing you, mouth falling open in shock.

“Y/N-ssi?”

Your own eyes widened, mirroring Jimin’s equally horror-stricken expression. He scrambled off the couch, attempting to fix his rumpled top, before stumbling over to you.

“Y/N-ssi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize, I mean, I didn’t know-” he stuttered, grabbing your hands in a pleading manner, “I’m so sorry.”

You smiled as kindly as you could in that moment, he was just as much a victim in this as you were, “It’s okay, Jimin-ssi. Seriously. It’s complicated.”

His brows furrowed at your answer, but you could see the relief flood his face at your forgiveness, “Okay, but I’m still sorry. I’ll talk to you about it later though, it looks like you have some stuff to work out. I’ll text you, I promise.”

You nodded, mustering your best smile, and waved him off, finding yourself unable to speak much more. He quickly grabbed his phone off the table and whispered acidly to Yoongi before leaving quickly.

His exit left you staring at the floor while Yoongi still stood by the couch. He took a few steps forward but stopped once you flinched back against the stair banister.

“Y/N, I,” he started, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, we agreed about this. It’s fine,” you stated, before nodding curtly and turning to head up the stairs.

You heard Yoongi call after you but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. You could feel your eyes welling up and your lip trembling, something you couldn’t let Yoongi see. Setting your eyes forward, you stiffly walked to your room, ignoring Yoongi’s call of your name.

After retreating, you shut the door behind you, immediately crumpling to the ground in quiet cries. You should’ve known this would happen, you had even mentioned it to a degree with Joohee, so why did it hurt so much?

Maybe you had let your hopes rise after what Hoseok had said the other night and let your head fill with the idea of you and Yoongi sharing feelings for each other. Clearly, that was not the case. Whatever it was, it made your chest hurt and tears roll down your cheeks as you suppressed choked sobs.

This felt like an overreaction. What right did you have to feel upset? This was the deal from the start. He had made it clear since the beginning that you were both allowed to take partners and you had prepared yourself. So why did it still hurt so much?

Feeling your sobs subside into wet hiccups, you slowly stood, tossing your dishes onto your desk and collapsing on your bed. You felt exhausted and dehydrated, and there was a headache almost certainly in your future.

The sight of Yoongi with bitten lips above Jimin was still clear in your mind and only made you want to curl up into a ball. This wasn’t feasible.

Your mind drifted to what Joohee had said before. What was really stopping you from going out and sleeping with someone too? Nothing was, and in your hurt and angry stupor, you vowed to make good on that.

Reaching for your phone, you dug through your contacts before selecting the one you were looking for.

To Lee Jaehyun:

You:

Hey, it’s been a while. Are you still in Seoul? I’d like to catch up.

With that, you sighed, shutting off your phone and closing your eyes. Exhaustion quickly overtook you, leaving you dozing quietly in only a few minutes.

The next morning had you waking with a pounding headache and a dread of leaving your room. The idea that you might face Yoongi outside was more than unappealing so you opted for staying in your room. Was it the coward’s way out? Maybe, but you felt that you deserved to be a coward for a bit.

Yoongi hadn’t attempted to talk to you since your stunted conversation, there were no new calls or knocks on your door. You supposed he didn’t have a reason to, but some part of you wanted to hear him beg for your forgiveness.

However, there was one new message on your phone, part of a conversation that you barely remembered starting and had to read through bleary eyes.

Lee Jaehyun:

Hey, Y/N! It has been a while, it’s good to hear from you. I heard through the grapevine that you got married, congrats!

I’m still in Seoul, I’m actually free tonight for dinner if you’re down to talk. We can do something casual at our usual spot.

Despite the mindset you’d been in when you sent Jaehyun a message, hearing from him still brought a smile to your face. He was always sweet when you were dating and stayed that way after you’d broken up. You knew he understood the nature of your marriage and that it was likely what you were messaging him about, which it technically was.

He had always been so understanding, you could only hope that he’d understand what you wanted to do and be willing to follow through on it with you. You quickly typed out a response before glancing at the time. You still had a while to hide in your room until you could leave to meet Jaehyun.

To Lee Jaehyun:

You:

Sounds good, I can’t wait to see you. Does 6 sound good?

Only a few minutes later, a text from Jaehyun came in confirming the time was fine. It left you to only wait until it was close enough to six to start getting ready. You occupied yourself with anything you could, trying your best not to think about Yoongi and instead, hyping yourself up for your night with Jaehyun.

You could do this.

You made sure to shower and shave properly and donned a casual, ruched dress that you knew Jaehyun loved on you. Taking the time to style your hair and put on some flattering natural makeup, you started to feel somewhat better about this. Who says you had you stop your sex life because of this? Even though it was already on hiatus long before your engagement, but that was neither here nor there.

Touching up some last few details with your look, making sure to add a necklace that dipped into your cleavage, and double checking that you were wearing the right lingerie, you felt ready. One last look in the mirror had you feeling like a woman on a mission, and you essentially were, though not a noble one.

The thought made you cringe but you tried to wipe away any guilt you felt. Clearly, Yoongi hadn’t felt any when he’d brought Jimin home. Jimin had texted you again last night but you hadn’t found the energy to text him back yet. You’d worry about that after fucking Jaehyun.

With your look finished, you exited your room, making sure to be as quiet as possible so as to not alert Yoongi. You made it out the door successfully and breathed a sigh of relief.

You quickly hailed a cab to take you to a ramen bar that you and Jaehyun frequented while you were still dating. As you reached, the memories of your relationship flooded your mind, triggered by the warm lighting on your skin and the spiced aroma filling the restaurant. You quickly spotted Jaehyun in the usual booth you’d sat in, somehow always empty for you two even on busy nights. He stood to greet you, hugging you loosely, before gesturing for you to sit.

You noticed his eyebrow raise at your attire. You knew he knew you well enough that your appearance would tip him off somewhat to your intentions, you were slightly dreading having to explain to him your stupid idea.

“Special occasion,” he questioned, nodding at your dress, eyes narrowing in on your necklace.

You smiled, “Seeing you is a special occasion, right?”

At that he stopped, his eyes meeting yours once more, “Y/N, what are you up to?”

Your smile turned sheepish, shrugging slightly, “Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

“In that dress?”

“Would be believe me if I said yes,” you joked.

He laughed, making your heart warm. His laugh was always bright and contagious, it was one of your favorite things about him.

“I’d think you have ulterior motives, Y/N. You know how I feel about that dress,” he chuckled, taking a sip of the beer next to him.

You flagged down a waiter, ordering one for yourself, before facing him once more, “I do.”

Both of Jaehyun’s eyebrows raised at that, eyes narrowing at your figure, “You know the effect you have on me, Y/N, but you’re still married.”

You held back a sigh, not looking forward to explaining your dilemma, “I am, but the rules are…loose. And you’re the only one I was interested in.”

“Y/N,” Jaehyn started, suddenly much firmer, “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.”

The sudden concern made you melt, remembering why you’d loved him so much before, even though you’d dated for a relatively short amount of time. Your beer arrived next to you and you took a large sip to gain some courage.

“I’m fine, promise. This is what I want.” That probably sounded believable enough.

Jaehyun hummed, taking another sip from his own glass, “Okay, then. Let’s see where this goes.”

Jaehyun’s apartment looked almost identical to the last time you’d been there, save for some new small pieces of decor. You didn’t have much time to observe it though, from the way Jaehyun was feverishly kissing you, pressing your body up against the door.

He felt familiar and safe and the way his hands traveled down your body to slip past the hem of your dress was a nostalgic sensation. His mouth was attached to yours, kissing you without leaving you room to breathe, resulting in you gasping in breaths in the rare reprieves he did give you. He hiked up your leg against his waist before trailing his mouth down your neck, sucking a mark onto your collarbone.

Your grip on his shirt tightened as his fingers approached your underwear, tantalizing your first foreign touch in a while. Your breaths were short and quick, letting yourself swim in the sensation of Jaehyun’s breath ghosting the neckline of your dress. Your head fell back against the door, your mouth slightly open, and your chest heaving at his close proximity. The cold feeling of your necklace against your chest slowly lifted, causing you to glance down to see Jaehyun catching the pendant in his teeth and dragging it up your cleavage, shooting you a lopsided grin.

“Fuck,” you breathed, grabbing the side of his face and bringing him in for another kiss, this time more sloppy as the pendant slipped from his mouth.

“Let me take you to the bed,” he whispered, tapping your thigh, and making you jump into his arms. He carried you into his bedroom, which you distantly noted hadn’t changed much either, and laid you down on his soft sheets, resuming kissing you while reaching for the zipper in the back of your dress.

You felt his fingers travel along with the zipper down your back, erecting goosebumps in their wake, and the fabric slowly fell from your body. He lifted the dress off you leaving you in the purple lingerie you knew he enjoyed decorating your skin in sheer lace.

He grinned down at you, “Fuck, you know just what to do to me.”

He dove into the valley between your breasts and kissed down your navel, dragging his teeth along your skin. As you looked down at him, the sight of his black hair similar to another’s against your stomach suddenly made you feel slightly sick, and his veined hand and long fingers encircling your nipple had a striking resemblance to another pair of hands you appreciated.

As Jaehyun’s mouth traveled towards your center, the sickly feeling grew and you couldn’t help but feel immense guilt not only toward Yoongi but Jaehyun as well.

What were you doing?

Why were you doing this? Just to prove a point? That you can also fuck other people?

The questions made your head spin and you sat up suddenly, startling Jaehyun. Burying your head in your hands, you mumbled out apologies to Jaehyun, and maybe Yoongi too.

“Hey, what’s wrong,” Jaehyun asked, settling himself in beside you, putting his arm around your shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“No,” you choked out, “I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can do this.”

“That’s okay, we don’t have to do anything,” Jaehyun soothed, rubbing circles into your shoulder, “Want to talk about it?”

“I’m so sorry, it just feels so unfair to you,” you opted to not mention the guilt you felt toward Yoongi as well, “I shouldn’t be doing this, it’s stupid.”

“Why is that,” Jaehyun prompted.

“We decided early on that our marriage would be open,” you managed to say in between quick breaths and wet heaves, “Well, he decided that. I didn’t want that, I actually like him.”

This felt pathetic.

“But I caught him yesterday, with someone else. Fuck, it shouldn’t even bother me, but it does,” you muttered angrily, “And I decided I’d sleep with someone else too, just because of that. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve this.”

“Hey,” Jaehyun turned your chin toward him, making you face him, “I’m an adult, I agreed to this. I did this because I wanted to, I wasn’t expecting us to start dating again. It’s okay that you tried this, and that you clearly aren’t comfortable with it. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“It’s so immature though, so petty,” you cried.

“So what? You can still be immature sometimes, you’re not perfect. Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you can’t make mistakes. I’m glad you stopped before you did anything you would’ve regretted,” Jaehyun smiled kindly, wiping your tears.

His words made you pause, echoing what you’d said about Yoongi to Joohee earlier that week. Your sobs dried up into short breaths and a cough, making Jaehyun get up to get you water. You sat on his bed feeling rather small and your damp underwear felt uncomfortable.

Jaehyun’s comforting still didn’t get rid of the guilt you felt but his gentle smile upon returning with a glass of water eased it slightly. You sipped it, feeling yourself calm down, watching Jaehyun ruffle through his closet before pulling out a large shirt you’d often stolen from him during your relationship.

“Here,” he said, handing you the shirt, “Wear that, you can sleep here, I don’t want you out in this state. I’ll take the couch.”

“No, I couldn’t let you do that in your own home,” you protested, “Let me take the couch.”

Jaehyun raised his hand, silencing you, “I’m not hearing it. Please, just sleep here and let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay,” you nodded, lowering your gaze to the water in your lap.

“And, Y/N,” he called, making you look up at him again, “I’m glad you reached out. We can always talk, I’m always here for you.”

You smiled, feeling emotional for a new reason now, his kindness washing over you in a soothing wave, “Thanks, Jaehyun. I’m here for you too, whenever you need it.”

He grinned before whispering a quick goodnight and shutting the door behind him.

Finally alone, you sighed. What a night. You still felt guilty, though you knew it wouldn’t do much good now, and you were honestly happy that you’d stopped things before it went too far. You were doing this for the wrong reasons, and even before you’d gotten engaged, you’d had no interest in sleeping with people. What transpired tonight was clearly just an attempt to get back at Yoongi, which was unfair to all parties involved, but especially Jaehyun.

You felt a little disgusted with yourself for using him that way when he’d been nothing but sweet to you. What had you become?

Finishing your water, you stood and peeled the lingerie off of your body and slipped on Jaehyun’s giant college t-shirt. It felt a little weird to not be wearing anything but the shirt to bed, but you didn’t have much choice with your lingerie being disgusting at this point. You quickly gathered your soiled clothing and stuffed it into a plastic bag you’d found, planning to bring it home as discreetly as possible the next morning. That left you lying in Jaehyun’s bed, head still swimming with the events of the past 48 hours.

In a way, you were glad this had happened, it had given you the confirmation that whoever your partner was, no matter the openness of the relationship, you weren’t interested in dating outside of your marriage. Even if you didn’t have any feelings for Yoongi, you still would’ve felt disgusted. You could hear Joohee chastizing you in your head about how you had a right to get even and that you deserved to have fun, but this wasn’t fun to you. It wasn’t appealing in the slightest.

Despite the nightmarish evening, you felt content with where you were in your own sexuality. Maybe at some point, you would become comfortable enough to actually sleep with other people, but that wasn’t something you wanted to worry about right now.

Right now, you weren’t near ready for that. What you needed was to have that conversation with Yoongi, and, with newfound courage, you resolved to have it by the end of the day tomorrow.

With your new mission in mind, you felt yourself drift to sleep in the distantly familiar feeling of Jaehyun’s mattress and scent.

The next morning had you feeling more embarrassed than guilty at the previous night’s events, and you quietly exited Jaehyun’s room, hoping not to wake him on the couch before leaving. Just your luck though that his door creaked loudly, making him sit up from his position on the couch.

His bleary stare and messy hair made you smile as you waved a shy hello. He waved lazily with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other, taking in the sight of you in just his shirt, your lingerie and dress sitting in the plastic bag hanging from your hand.

“Damn, I really wish you weren’t married,” he slurred, likely still quite sleepy.

You laughed, walking over to him, “If I get divorced, you’ll be my first call.”

He smiled loosely, still quite tired, “Yes, do that. Anyway, you can take one of my shorts, but please let me drive you back. I’m nervous about you going out like that.”

You nodded, “Okay, thanks. For everything, seriously.” You wanted to say more, but you weren’t sure how to phrase it. The unconditional kindness he displayed to you left you speechless and only more upset that he wasn’t the one you got to marry.

The ride back to Yoongi’s apartment was fairly quiet, with Jaehyun still quite tired, as he was never a morning person. He stopped in front of Yoongi’s building, whistling at the height of the tower. You smiled and thanked him again, squeezing his hand, before opening the door to leave.

“Hey, seriously, Y/N. Call me if you ever need anything, I’m always here to listen,” he said, watching you exit his car.

“Thanks, Jaehyun. I really can’t thank you enough,” you responded, smiling at his waving off of your answer. You shut the door before steeling your resolve for what awaited you in Yoongi’s apartment.

This was going to have to happen sooner or later, but it was time to have an honest conversation with Yoongi.

And you were going to be okay, no matter the outcome.

Probably.

Yoongi was tipsy. He hadn’t seen you since last night when you’d come downstairs in the middle of him making out with some guy he’d found at the club with Taehyung and Seokjin. You seemed to know the guy, Jimin he remembers, and that made him feel odd.

He wasn’t upset, no, he felt sick in his gut that you apparently knew the person he’d chosen to sleep with outside of your marriage.

He wasn’t sure why it was so upsetting to him, you’d both decided early on to leave your relationship open. Theoretically, there was nothing wrong with what he did. But it didn’t stop the guilt that swirled in his stomach, making him reach for more whiskey.

Something about your expression, just as you’d turned around after he’d noticed you. Your eyes were teary and you were biting your lip. Your eyebrows were knotted together and he could see the tight grip you had on the plate in your hands.

Your expression made his heart clench.

It was the most emotion he’d seen on your face, and you seemed unbelievably upset. And he had done that to you.

What was worse was the way your face returned to its usual cold exterior only moments later, the epitome of calm and collected. Was Yoongi not worth becoming emotional over for you?

No, Yoongi wasn’t upset about that. No, he was upset that you felt the need to control yourself like that. Yoongi had grown up being taught to control his every emotion, his every expression, and any aspect of his body language, and it molded him into an emotionally stunted adult with only a few close friends with whom he could loosen up with.

He had done that to you.

Yoongi resisted the urge to slam his glass down on his desk. He was a piece of shit, he felt disgusting.

You hadn’t come out of your room since last night and he wasn’t sure what to do. Did you even want to see him for him to apologize? He didn’t want to message you, the fear of being ignored was too great.

Suddenly, he heard the front door open and close, and silence afterward. So you’d gone out. Fair enough, Yoongi couldn’t blame you. He wouldn’t want to be around himself if he were you either.

He didn’t want to be around himself as it was.

Fuck.

He was getting in over his head. He remembered the feel of Jimin’s plush lips against his own and his skin under the rough pads of Yoongi’s fingertips, but he didn’t feel anything. It felt like he was forcing himself, going through the motions, desperate to find an answer to the confusion he’d felt since he’d married you.

In a way, he’d found an answer. Yoongi was undeniably attracted to you, and only you. Jimin was a last-ditch effort to prove to himself that he wasn’t developing feelings for you, and that had failed. Catastrophically.

This, however, brought a new dilemma for Yoongi, what was he supposed to do about it? It wasn’t fair to you for Yoongi to push these new feelings onto you after being caught with someone else. Yoongi knew that much. It’d only serve to be confusing and upsetting to you. So what was he supposed to do?

Yoongi bit his lip, hard. When was the last time he’d had feelings for someone? Taehyung? That would’ve been years ago, when they’d first met, and Taehyung had had a girlfriend at the time. So Yoongi had pushed his feelings down and repressed them until they were no longer there and Taehyung was nothing but a good friend.

But this was different. Yoongi was married to you, he had the opportunity to pursue his feelings. But what of the consequences? What if you didn’t want that? What if you were disgusted with him, now? Rightfully so, he mused.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he refilled his whiskey glass, his head was starting to hurt. New whiskey was poured into his glass but he did not drink it.

Despite the fact that he’d finally come to terms with his budding affection for you, he’d never felt more lost and confused.

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gxbbyhoneybadger · 2 years

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Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Predator x reader?

Leads to smut (0u0")

Where he breaks into he readers house/apartment for safety, he looks around and his heat sensors pick up the readers body heat.. He notices she's mostly defenseless but searchers her for weapons.. in the process he's touching her everywhere then leaves. he comes back a few nights later to see her and then BOOM SMUTTY SMUT!

This. . . This is just amazing! Ofc, and enjoy the treat. I'm gonna use Scar boy from AvP, he's my favorite Yautja out of them all heheheh. This is also my first monster/predator smut so. . . Please do be gentle with the comments if u don't approve 🥹

A/n: the Yautjas can roughly speak human languages, I'm using this from the end scene of Predator (1987) movie. I'll give them a reason to speak as well, don't worry. There's a plot for that lol.

Mission XXXIV-XXXV

Pairing: !Yautja!Scar x !F!Shy!Reader

Summary: After making an escape from the Alien Queen, Scar manages to hide away within an empty home—not knowing who was still there and wide awake. After finding and searching the shy human to make sure that she was no threat, she was rather aroused by the strange creature's lingering touches. When he leaves, he can't get the woman out of his mind, causing the Yautja to run back to where she was just a few nights later to finish what he had unintentionally started.

Warnings: Blood and gore, death, adult language, eventual smut, gentle sex (Scar a horny mf but he's a gentle giant imo), size kink, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before ya tap it folks), fluff, anonymous ending.

Part 2

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

Many things happen for a reason, times of events line up for destruction or something wonderful. Not right now apparently, not for Scar. This was destruction, he wiped out the rampant Xenomorph younglings, now the Queen was left. She was raging with fury as she searched for the few Yautjas who were hiding and planning their ways to kill the unforgiving creature.

Scar was wounded—bleeding out the neon green substance from his left shoulder. He shouldn't have let his guard down, he could've spotted that one Xenomorph that leapt at him. At least he made it out alive, he'll make it back to his planet soon. He entered a home, it was dark but he used his mask to read the room. Everything was clear, before he saw the acidic burn on a book that fell onto the floor from the fallen bookshelf.

His guard was already on high alert, his weapon at hand as he slowly approached a broken door where he saw a tail of a Xenomorph lying lifeless. It was already dead, he scanned the room once more, this time using the heat sensor built within his mask. He caught the glowing body within the dark kitchen, the lights flickered on by her trembling hand. She seemed to stunned to even react by the giant watching her, her clothes were disheveled, a few cuts on her arms but not too much damage.

She didn't move from her place, still taking in who this was. "You're one of them. . ." She muttered before her eyes moved to the side. Scar followed her gaze and saw one of his fallen brothers dead in the corner, impaled through the chest most likely from the Xenomorph itself. His neon green blood coated his stilled chest and the ground beneath him.

". . . I didn't know. . . what to do. . . he tried to. . ." She whispered. Scar looked at the dead alien next, seeing that it's head and neck was severely wounded by one of the Yautjas weapons: A Wrist Scythe.

He looked to her and saw the weapon around her arm that she must've taken from the corpse to defend herself from the Xenomorph. "I-I'm s-so sorry. . ." She mumbled. His mandibles clicked as he lifted his hand and held out his index fingers, slowly circling his wrist—telling her to turn around. She read his silent command and turned around, dropping the Wrist Scythe she held behind her back as she rested her hands against the wall.

Scar scanned her body, reading the wounds she sustained as his large claws grazed over her smaller arms. His entire hand could wrap around her neck if he dare harmed her, but he was simply checking for any hidden weapons she may have carried. Gently letting his hands lower down from the sides of her breasts to her waist and hips, his large hands then clasped over her left thigh. The bridge between his thumb and index finger softly brushed against her sensitive nether regions.

She silently scolded herself to stop thinking about such disgusting thoughts, she didn't even know what this thing was or what was happening. Y/n was a shy person, not really out there in the dating or hookup life. But her thoughts were rather intrusive about this strange being that was touching her.

She felt her face heat up from the unintentional touch, he moved on and checked her other thigh—again, touching her nether regions. Palming around her calf before he stood back up and towered over her frame, his shadow completely swallowed her own. His large mitt held her left shoulder and turned her to face him. She followed his movement and let him scan her body.

He read her vitals and smelled something. . . Something rare for any Yautja to smell from a human, her very own arousal, her vitals showed that her heart was beating erratically, a sign of nervousness while her body heat rose significantly, her pupils widened as she looked away from him. She was healthy and stable, but aroused and nervous around him. Scar stepped back and looked at the fallen Yautja, Y/n slowly slid down the wall and sighed.

". . . Um. . . I. . . I'm Y/n. . . Not that, you'd need to know. . . or anything. . ." She said, Scar looked down at her, his dreadlocks hanging over his shoulders as he tilted his head. His mask translating her words into his own language, his understanding of the human languages and different types were vaguely known to his species. Only a rare few of Yautja elders knew the humans entire lot of languages by memory, no mask needed for translation.

Scar was learning bit by bit each day he spends on earth hunting down worthy opponents, and Bad Bloods. "You're hurt. . ." Her shying voice said, bringing Scar's attention back to her, "Your shoulder is bleeding. . . are. . . are you okay?"

Clicking his mandibles again, he grabbed the items he needed and started to clean his wound and patch it up. Y/n grunted as she stood up and wandered towards the dead Xenomorph, she watched it, lightly kicking it's leg to see if it really was dead. . . which it was.

After he finished patching his injury when he saw Y/n standing by the body. It twitched just a little bit caused her to jump back and squeak with fear, making Scar's mandibles click in a chuckling way at her reaction. She growled and kicked the body before looking at Scar who was checking outside for any sign of the Queen nearby. The coast was clear and he turned to pick up his fallen brother's body.

"W-Wait!" She gasped when he walked out of the door, he paused in his step and glanced at her as she stumbled out of her house while watching him with a tiny glimmer of appreciation. ". . . D-Do you have a name?" She asked him.

Scar didn't say or do anything as a response, he looked away and continued to walk away, leaving the girl alone.

~Three Days Later~

He couldn't stop thinking about her voice, her eyes, the shy voice and her smell. He refused to go back to her for three days, for those three days he still couldn't stop thinking about her. Her bravery to take on a Xenomorph, one that even a Yautja couldn't defeat.

His species never mated for life, they simply procreated to reproduce for their species. To grow more warriors for more hunts, their mating wasn't loving either. The females were known to be rough and quite deadly with the males, just making it out alive and injured was considered lucky after their mating.

But after that, they'd go their separate ways. Mating with others and every four hundred days, they'd all mate again for reproduction. But here was a Yautja, searching for the same female he had ran into by accident, a female who wasn't even a part of his species, no, of course, she was human. A species that was noteworthy of being their opponents to hunt and kill, perhaps even ally with.

But something. . . Something shined from this human, and it wasn't because of the thermal scan. This human, this female human of the human race killed a Xenomorph when one of his kind failed to do so. She wasn't a regular human, she was a warrior.

Scar quietly remained perched up in a tree as his scanners searched her house. The damaged parts of the house were cleaned up and repaired over the days, the light in her bedroom was the only thing on. There he saw her exit the restroom, wearing nothing but a towel around her body as she brushed through her semi-dried hair. She seemed low and lonely as she sat on her bed, not even hearing the camouflaged Predator entering her home.

~Y/n pov~

I turned and looked at my folded clothes to wear; it's been three days, whoever that creature was isn't coming back. I already know that's the truth, but it's so hard to accept. For those three days, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Those large hands, the claws, those dreadlocks and his large abs lining his abdomen. Fishnets on his legs, his large build, his tall height.

He couldn't be just six feet, he had to be close to seven at least. I felt stupid when I remembered how I touched myself last night, thinking about him in such erotic ways. I don't even know what he was or who he was, and yet there I was—finger fucking myself over him.

He didn't even answer me or anything, I don't even know if he had a name. I was more pissed off at myself as I stood to grab my clothes, I opened my shirt and sighed as I turned around. Gasping as I dropped the piece of clothing when my eyes landed on the behemoth in front of me. Him. . . It was him! He was here. . .

He was back. . . But. . . why? Shit, what is he going to do? Kill me? Finish whatever job he had to be here? He stepped forward and I couldn't move, I was either scared or really brave to face this giant. . . I highly doubt that I was brave, I was just petrified. I saw him raise his hand at me, was he going to strangle me? Break my neck? I closed my eyes and accepted my fate, maybe he'll make it quick.

But that anticipation was for nothing, I slightly gasped when his claw dragged against my cheekbone. I opened my eyes to see his fingers gentle caressing my skin with care, it really showed me how truly big he was. His hand could cover my entire face, I looked up at his metal covered mask, those dreadlocks were out of this world. Hesitance drowned my confidence as I lifted my hand towards him, slowly and steadily.

He didn't move or growl, that was a good sign. . . right?

I let the tip of my index finger brush one of his dreadlocks, he seemed to have shuddered from the contact. I moved my hand—thinking I did something to cause him discomfort, but that was debunked when his hand held my much smaller wrist. He brought it up to encircle one of his dreadlocks, it felt smooth, rubbery almost, fake to the touch. But it was real nonetheless.

"Y-You're back. . . Why did you come back?" I asked him with a stutter lining my words. I heard the familiar clicking come from behind his mask, I didn't understand what he was saying but I saw his hand lift towards the tubes connected to the side of his mask before pulling them out. A hiss of air was heard when his hand lifted the disguise.

I didn't know what to think when I saw his face, those large mandibles, sharp pointed teeth, sharp and deadly eyes. Never in my life have I seen a creature like him, this was an extraterrestrial level. Forget E.T, this guy definitely takes the cake. I lifted my hand and grazed my finger over his lower jaw mandibles, they clicked and spread open to reveal his teeth within.

I couldn't stop looking at him, but when I did I glanced at the towel I was wearing. My heart rate picked up as I argued back in forth in my head. What if this is truly the last time I ever see him? He'll be gone, what if he forgets about me? This is my only chance, I've never done this before, but this'll be one hell of a first time story for anyone to hear.

I closed my eyes and gulped before bringing my hand towards my towel, I looked back at the creature before pulling the cloth loose—feeling it fall down to my ankles and the cool air breeze across my bare breasts. I shuddered as the coolness, but kept my eyes on his. His clicking grew to a low growl, almost like a warning sign.

Did I read the signs wrong-? oh fuck! I can't even get a regular guy and here I am, not even getting a damn alien or whatever he was to—"Bee-U-Tiff-all. . ." His semi-audible voice growled out. I gasped at the wonder of his voice, it sounded like he tried to put the words together correctly, but with struggle of course. I grew a light smile as I placed my hand on his chest.

"I don't know. . . if you can understand what I'm saying but: you. . . are the most amazing thing I've ever seen walk the earth. . ." I said to him. His large calloused hand slithered up my arm and towards my neck, his thumb gently pushed my chin to look up at him. His large head tilted to the side as he used his unintelligible clicking to communicate to me.

"I don't understand what you're saying. . . But if you mean. . ." I glanced at my bed then back at him, I took his hand and led him near it before I let him go, crawling backwards on the bed and watched him, "If I'm misinterpreting whatever you're trying to say. . . Then I'm sorry. . . But if I'm right. . . Then can you. . . be gentle? I-I've never. . . did this." I mumbled awkwardly.

He seemed to have understood that rather quickly when he held my ankle and lifted it, like he was examining my skin before he rested his knee on the bed. Pulling me closer and spreading my legs, I whimpered at my exposed place. He's ten times my size, yet he's being gentle as he could be. Maybe this will feel good like my friends say.

~~~

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Not good! Oh fuck! I was laying on my stomach, my ass was perched up and this thing was hovering over my back while his unnatural massive cock was prodding at my unexplored entrance. His hands were locked on my waist as he rubbed himself against me, I mewled from the sensation, it was some sort of friction for me.

He was so big, I was terrified on how he'll even make it fit inside of me. I'll barely get the tip in alone! Without warning me, he turned me over on my back again and knelt on the ground. He held my thighs open before letting his forked tongue run over my clit—there I gasped as I clenched the bedsheets.

"Ah!" I moaned, it was a strange feeling, but it felt good. I heard his growling rumbling within his chest as his hands squeezed my thighs. I wanted to touch him, but I wasn't sure of what he was comfortable with so I kept my hands to myself. I felt his mandibles slightly dif into my pelvic area as his lower ones cupped the backs of my rear, his tongue then slithered inside of my glistening petals and through my cunt.

My legs started to shake when his tongue flickered over my clit as he started to tease my labia. I felt my sweat beginning to form over my chest and forehead, I started to feel the tightening string building inside of me. He fully plunged his tongue deeper inside of me and struck the cord—my back lifting off the bed as I bit my hand to not moan out loud. With trembling legs and the flash of white blurring my vision, I didn't even see or feel him turn me back over on my stomach.

But I did feel that initial sting when his cock pushed into me, I used my pillow to squeal into as he added more pressure. Slowly but surely breaking through my hymen, my tears started to sting my eyes as his hands pushed down my shoulder—making my chest lay flat on the bed as I endured it.

His cock was large, too large, it filled me up as he started to slowly thrust, each thrust made his length dig deeper inside of me. I choked on my whimper as he slammed against my cervix, "FUCK!" I screamed out. He remained still and lowly purred beside my head, not moving and letting me adjust to the sheer size of him. My knuckles turned white as I clenched the sheets, I whined when he slightly moved. He was growling while letting his hands touch my body, I felt his dreadlocks drag across my skin.

After a minute or so, he slowly pulled back and pushed forward. Filling me again, he surely reached the deepest parts of me. Mewls and gasps came from me as he continued with his slow motions, rolling his hips into me and growling, letting out snarls and purrs as he clenched my hips—his claws digging into my skin to resist the urge to go faster. I appreciated the thought, but was terrified if he did let loose on me.

"Ah, Ngh! K-keep goi-NG!" I moaned while hugging my pillow with tears. I felt my sweat beginning to coat my forehead and my back, I felt him lower down and lick the shell of my ear with his forked tongue. A whimper flowed from my lips when he picked up the pace just a bit, I could feel his balls hitting my clit just right. They were so big slapping against me; I choked on my air when he pulled me up on his chest.

He hugged my waist and started to thrust into me again, I reached towards one of his locks and brought it to my lips to kiss. He roared and started to grope my breasts while thrusting quicker, each thrust was heavy and deep. His scale like arms held me tight, his claws tracing over my nipples as his mandibles clicked right next to my ear.

My body felt like it was going to split in half from his cock, I was shocked by my moaning and my begging for more of him. I held his arm while I shut my eyes to enjoy this overriding pleasure, my orgasm was approaching as he continued to grind against me. He laid me down again and snarled—digging his nails into my flesh as he restrained himself, I bit the pillow and squealed when the ball tightening within me snapped.

My back arched as I pushed against him, moaning as I felt my desire squirt out of me. That white bliss glossed over my vision, leaving small black dots to see as he continued to grind against me. He didn't stop, his thrusting grew more intense as he clawed at the sheets to avoid harming me—I covered my ears when he roared out. Then gasping when he finished inside of me.

It felt warm, and thick—I could feel his thick desire coating the walls of my uterus and filling my cunt to the brim. His dreadlocks were dragging over my shoulders as he slowly got up from me, I winced feeling him pull out from me. I felt his cum leaking out of me. I felt so tired, drained of all my energy.

His arms gently turned me over, my eyes felt droopy, they started to close when I felt him cover me with a blanket and pick me up before his deep voice growled out, "Sc—aar."

Unaware of where he was taking me. I don't know how long I was out but I was still sleeping. Until I heard more clicking and snarls from other creatures near me.

_____________________________________

I hope you enjoyed the smut! Feel free to follow and request for ur own!

#predator x reader #predator x you #predator x human #predator #yautja #yautja x human #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #smutwarning #predator smut #yautja smut #monster fuqqer #monsterfucking cw

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toruro · 2 years

Text

love you twice — j. wonwoo x reader — part one

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

“so, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze. “i’m not avoiding you mr. jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. he takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "really?" wonwoo murmurs, "because i think you're lying." you both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. he steps away with a heavy breath. "i'm sorry. you can get going if you—" you aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his.

tags/warnings: sexual content (18+), first-grade-teacher!wonwoo, mother!reader, fluff, angst (light), reader is jun's cousin, dirty talk, sexual tension, tension in general lol, unedited

w/c: 6.7k

a/n: this thought came to mind like once and i just *had* to write it because oh my god???? i hope u like reading this as much as i liked writing it! please reblog and like if you enjoyed, it would mean the world to me c:

“Fuck, yeah,” the pretty man above you grunts into your shoulder as he fucks into you, the drag of his fat cock against your gummy walls having you writhe in pleasure under him. Your fingers reach up and claw at his back, and if the digging of your nails into his skin is hurting, his only response is another deep, guttural groan of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when his thick tip is hitting that one spot which has your toes curling, throwing your head back into his mattress, weakly bringing your hips up to try and sync with his thrusts, encouraging him to go deeper, harder. “Right there—right—ah! There!”

He continues to batter his length into you after your pleas, muttering out words of praise—“good girl—fuck—holding me so tight, so good,” and the words are going through your ears and straight down to your hot, sopping core because holy hell this man is amazing at dirty talk.

You’re so fucked through that you can’t even remember how you ended up here—all you know is that you were finally left with a free night when your cousin offered to take care of Kei for the night when you expressed the need to have just a little time to yourself. The last thing that comes to your mind at the moment is how you were at a club and somehow managed to end up here, in the bed of an extremely attractive man who seems to know exactly what to do with his mouth, his hands, his dick.

It’s a passing thought that the shame will hit you eventually, but right now all you can think about is how long it’s been since you got laid and how you never, ever remember sex feeling this good. You aren’t sure if it’s just this guy that is amazing or if you’re just really needy and desperate but—oh fuck, he’s slamming into you so hard and there’s that pulse that rumbles deep inside of your core and it has you moaning loud. Okay so, it’s definitely the fact that he might be your best lay pretty much ever, and it has you squirming around as you babble, “‘m gonna cum—I—fuck, I’m cumming!”

The waves of hot, white pleasure hit you hard and it has tears welling up in your eyes as you feel him let out his own moan from the way you’re squeezing him so tight, the feeling of his warm cum filling up the condom as he thrusts into you a few last times. You two stay like that for a moment, his hands on either side of your head holding his body above yours, as you both inhale and exhale deeply trying to catch your spent breath.

After a minute, he’s pushing himself off of you and off the bed, pulling off the condom to throw it out without a word. You take this as your cue to get up and start picking up your clothes, squeaking a little as a dull ache resides in your legs. You catch him looking at you at the sound, and you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but in the dark of the room you can’t quite tell. As you lean down to slip on your panties, he finally speaks.

“You can use my shower, even if you don’t plan on staying.”

You glance up at him with a chuckle, saying, “You like keeping your one night stands over for breakfast? What a gentleman.” He rolls his, pulling on some pants as he does so.

“Is there something wrong with being hospitable to someone who looks like they can hardly walk?”

“I suppose not,” you hum, ignoring the flush of your cheeks at his sly comment. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to get home—I have someone waiting for me,” you explain, a small smile creeping its way onto your face as you think about Kei. He looks at you for a second, a confused and honestly slightly mortified expression donning his face. Your eyes widen as you realize what that must have sounded like, and you throw up your hands and shake your head. “I don’t mean it like that—I—fuck—I’m not cheating on anyone! I meant something else!”

He gives you a funny look, replying, “I’ll choose to trust you on that, for the sake of my own sanity. I wouldn’t want to know that I’m the cause of a failed marriage or something.”

You grumble as you pull on your shirt, checking your pockets and purse to see if there’s anything missing. “No failed marriages here,” you laugh, tone slightly bitter before you brush it off. “Anyways, you should choose to trust me because I am telling the truth,” you counter as he watches you make your way to the exit. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, since I probably won’t see you again.”

“Too bad,” he grins as you approach his apartment’s door, slipping on your shoes. “That was fun.”

You inwardly bite your cheek at his shamelessness, looking away. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I guess,” you huff nonchalantly. “Anyways, thank you for this night. I kind of really needed this,” you admit, and then you’re slipping out of the door before he even has a chance to respond.

When you return to your apartment, you’re greeted by Jun at the door, lips somewhat in a grimace as you find Kei asleep in his arms. “Sorry, he kept saying he wanted to wait for you and he wouldn’t go to sleep so I tried to put on some show for him but then he fell asleep on my lap but I didn’t want to move until you came back,” he explains as he braces Kei under the arms so he can hand him over to you.

“Aw,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to your son's forehead as you look up at Jun. “Thank you so much for this, Jun, it really means a lot.”

He brings a hand up to the back of his neck and chuckles, waving his hand at you. “Don’t worry about it. I know you needed this,” he says, following you to your bedroom to help you set up the bed for Kei. “I got him to brush his teeth and all, so all that stuff is in set. Is there anything else you need help with?” he offers as you finish up tucking Kei into bed, walking out of the room as you shut off the lights.

“No, I think it’s okay,” you tell him honestly, leaning against the kitchen counter to catch up with Jun for a few minutes.

“Okay well, d’you have fun?” Jun asks, and he doesn’t give you the chance to respond before saying, “Seems like you did,” he snickers, pointing to your neck. Your hands fly up to your neck with wide eyes as you remember that your fuck buddy for the night was quite literally all over you.

“Whatever,” you respond with a roll of your eyes, “it’s just one night, and I swear I just needed to let loose a little.” You sigh deeply, and Jun sends you a look of sympathy.

“Everything alright?”

Your shoulders slump as rest your weight on the counter, leaning into Jun has he wraps a shoulder around your arm comfortingly. "It's just—ugh—Kei is starting first grade in two days and I just...I don't know how to feel."

"That makes sense," Jun agrees, "but it's good that he got into that school you'd been trying to get him into, right?"

"Yeah," you sigh again. "Fuck, that was really hard—I had to beg that principal to let him in 'cause they were full and it was a pain in the ass, but it is a really good school so I guess it makes sense." Jun hums in response, encouraging you to go on. "I guess it's just that I'm worried for him? It's only been me and him, you know, so I'm nervous. I know it's a good school, I just hope he's gonna be in good hands."

"Trust me, Kei is an amazing kid, so he'll be able to thrive anywhere. And if the school isn't up to your liking, you always have the option of transferring him out—after all, he's only in first grade so switching schools shouldn't be a problem," Jun explains to you, leaving your side to bring you a glass of water.

"Thank you," you say honestly as you gulp it down. “I think I needed that.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you want to talk about? You know I’m always open ears.”

You throw Jun a smile as you push yourself off the counter. “Yeah, I know, and I appreciate you for that, but honestly, all I need right now is to change into my pajamas and crash into the bed,” you tell him as he slips on his shoes at the doorway, picking up his backpack.

“Alright, alright. Let me know if you need any help or anything. I’m gonna get going now.”

“Thank you again,” you say as you open the door for him. Jun smiles and waves at you, bidding goodnight before he’s walking down the hallway and out of your sight. Once you close the door behind you, you waste no time getting into your bathroom and rinsing your body off, slipping into a much more comfortable set of clothes.

It's around ten minutes later when you're finally done with cleaning yourself and the room up one last time before crawling into the bed next to Kei. As you pull the covers over you both, you feel the exhaustion from the entire day fully engulf you, and before you know it, you're being thrown into a deep slumber.

The next day is Sunday and you spend each minute biting your nails and stressing over anything and everything. Kei’s going to be going to an actual school for the first time ever tomorrow and you can’t help but notice a buzzing instinct that something—just something—unexpected will happen. You can’t quite place your suspicions on something just yet, but the thoughts have you going crazy to the point where you have to call Jun in the night so he can calm you down.

“What if—what if—?” your frantic thoughts are cut off by Jun.

“Okay look I know you’re stressed but maybe you’re making this harder on yourself than it needs to be. You’ve thought of everything and like maybe 0.01% of the scenarios are actually even feasible, so trust me when I say nothing’s going to go wrong.

“But what if—”

“No what if’s!” Jun exclaims exasperatedly, “or else I’m going to come and take Kei to school myself tomorrow because god knows you’re not in the right mind right now.”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll stop!” you surrender in defeat, sighing as Kei comes up to you to show you a drawing he made. “I’m gonna get back to making dinner, Jun,” you say through the phone before squatting down.

“Okay, talk to you later. Try not to lose your mind,” Jun advises, causing you to chuckle as you hang hup, turning your full attention to your son.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly, patting his head as he looks down at the paper in his hands. “What’cha have there?” you ask curiously, scooching closer as he holds up the paper.

“It’s the new school, Mommy,” he explains, holding up a colored drawing of a school and a stick figure of you with an (adorably) abnormally large head holding the hand of a stick figure of him. “An’ there’s you an’ there’s me!”

Your heart swells as you stand up holding the paper, using a magnet to put it up on the fridge. “I love it Kei, you’re such a good artist!” you exclaim, swooping down to pick him up. “You excited for school tomorrow?”

“Yeah!”

“Your teacher’s name’s gonna be Mr. Jeon okay? That’s what the principal told me,” you tell him carefully, setting him down at his elevated seat at the dinner table. “Be nice to him okay? You need to respect teachers.”

“Yes Mommy,” Kei nods along enthusiastically as he watches you go to the kitchen and bring him some rice and curry.

“You remember the plan? I’ll drop you off but I don’t think I can stay long enough to go with you inside ‘cause I have work, okay?” Kei only half-mindedly nods his head as he dives into the food that you’ve set for him, but you don’t have the heart to blame him—after all, this is probably the fifth time you repeated this to him today. “I’ll be there right after school ends though,” you tell him, reminding yourself of the parent-teacher meeting Kei’s teacher had arranged to introduce himself to the parents.

“Okay,” Kei responds, his mouth stuffed with rice and curry smeared on his chin. He looks up at you innocently and you can’t help but giggle, his smile washing all your worries away.

As you clean up his face, you remind yourself of Jun’s words from earlier. Everything’s going to be okay.

And for the most part, everything is okay. In fact, everything’s going great, from Kei’s smooth drop off at his new school, to when you set foot on campus with five minutes to spare before the teacher meeting. There’s a big fat grin plastered on your face as you realize that maybe your hunch that something was going to go wrong was nothing more than that—just a hunch.

Now this is the part where you think you should have known better.

Once the final school bell rings, there are students rushing out of classrooms as you among a few other parents gather around the room that is 103, waiting to see your children and their teacher. As you all form in a line by the door, there’s a slightly older woman standing next to you wearing a kind smile.

“Are you here to see Mr. Jeon?” she asks you. Her warmth grows on you as you smile and nod.

“Yes! I assume you are too?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “I’ve been so excited! He’s a fairly young teacher, you know?”

“Is that so so,” you murmur, “my son is new to the school and all, so we aren’t really familiar with any of the teachers. Does Mr. Jeon have a good reputation?”

The lady shrugs. “I’ve heard he’s quite good with the kids, but I’d hope he was since he’s a first grade teacher…” she jokes. “I haven’t heard anything bad about him, if that’s what you’re asking. What I have heard though, is that he is quite nice to look at!”

You let out a small chuckle at that, amused by the idea of a man who has the parents of his students gossiping about his looks.

“Oh!” the lady exclaims, straightening her back. “Looks like they’re about to come!”

You peer over the shoulder of the father of another student in front of you, watching as the door opens slowly and a rush of Kei-sized children run out. Your smile brightens as your eyes land on your son, calling out his name so that he can run up to you and into your lifting arms. Picking him up, you have time to observe the obvious grin he has plastered on his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly. “How was your first day of school?”

“It was so much fun Mommy! Mr. Jeon says he’s gonna talk to all of you,” he said, pointing at all the other adults greeting their kids.

“Yeah, that’s right!” you tell him, setting him down. You’re about to say something else before you hear a deep, familiar voice—it hardly takes you a second to realize who it is, and you freeze in your tracks. Your face grows pale as you brace yourself for what you’re about to see and hear—you’re lucky you’re standing in the back so he can’t see you and the million thoughts that are evidently running through your mind..

“Hello everyone, I’m glad you could make it today. I’m Jeon Wonwoo, and as you know, I’m your child’s teacher. I’m excited to start things off on a high note. You can have your child play on the playground during the meeting, since we still have our supervisors out to watch them."

Mr. Jeon. Jeon Wonwoo. Wonwoo. Him .

You should have known that your mother instincts were too accurate—the universe just had to throw you a curveball. You chew on your tongue for a moment figuring out how to handle this situation as you lean down closer to Kei, nodding to him when he looks over at you for permission to follow his newly-made friends to the playground. Taking a deep breath as you watch Kei skip away, you glance over at him , who luckily hasn’t seemed to notice you.

Straightening your back as all of the young kids happily follow each other outside, the hallway is finally only left with him and the parents. “Okay, you guys can come in, I’ve made room for you all to stand around the back since I doubt any of you will fit into your child’s chair,” Mr. Jeon jokes, and while most others laugh, there’s a pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach that has you going stiff. He moves aside a little, making way for the parents to enter the classroom and greeting each one individually.

Suddenly your breath is caught in your throat and you glance around you, excusing yourself from the lady next to you so you can shuffle to the back of the line, pretending to look through something in your purse. You aren’t even sure what you’re trying to do, but all you know is that you just need a moment to collect yourself, your thoughts. Luck must not be on your side though, as before you know it, the last person in front of you has entered the classroom leaving you dead in your tracks and staring at Mr. Jeon , who’s eyes haven’t turned fully towards you yet.

Maybe this is your last chance to run , you think quickly, but you remind yourself that embarrassing or not, this is for Kei and you’d be damned to miss this meeting. That and the fact that maybe you’re just a little happy that you’re seeing this attractive man again and— no! You scold yourself, don’t think like that!

You shake yourself of such dirty, such inappropriate thoughts when you finally catch his eyes landing on you. That’s when you see it‚ the way his eyes widen slightly as he takes in your figure. He recognizes you, you’re sure of it. His hand is already reaching out to shake yours but it stops midway as you both take a moment to stare at each other before he’s quickly clearing his throat and looking away for a second.

“H-hi,” he says, pursing his lips together after realizing he fucking stuttered. “Nice to meet you. You must be Kei’s mother?” he asks, avoiding the fat fucking elephant in the room. You shyly reach out and shake his hand, fruitlessly trying to ignore the memory of these very fingers being plunged knuckle deep inside of you less than two nights ago.

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” you reply quieter than you want, suddenly finding it unable to meet his gaze as the pads of his fingers brush against your skin. “Nice to meet you too. Kei’s been, um, excited to start school here,” you say louder as you try to avert your attention away from what you’re both thinking about, “so I hope you can make his time here a good one.” Mr. Jeon presses his lips into a smile and you want to bash your head into the wall at how sincere he looks.

“I’ll do my best,” he says, before raising a brow and pointing toward the room. You follow his direction and stand by the other parents who are lined up at the back of the classroom, Mr. Jeon following in behind you and making his way to the front of the classroom.

From there the meeting begins, and he goes over a small presentation over the daily activities of his class, classroom expectations, and such forth. You pay attention to the best of your ability, you really do, but sometimes you find your eyes drifting away from the projector screen and toward his arms that are on show with his short sleeve shirt, your mind trailing off to a place that it definitely shouldn’t. You catch yourself quickly though, mentally reprimanding yourself and turning your attention back to the presentation.

He finishes up the meeting with a list of his contacts and you quickly bring out your phone, along with others, to list down his email and phone number (only for the reason of Kei’s education, of course). “If you have any questions, you can ask me now. If not, you’re free to go!” There’s a series of “thank you’s” that echo through the room as some approach Mr. Jeon and others, like you, shuffle out of the classroom. You can’t lie, your steps are quick and you’re nearly running out of the room so fast that you don’t catch the way his eyes linger on your back as you exit.

“He said I’m a great artist! We did some coloring and he said my flower looked really nice.”

“Well he didn’t lie,” you tell your son as you pull up to the parking lot for your apartment complex. “You are a great artist, Kei,” you say as you get out of your seat and pull your work bag with you, then help Kei get out too. “Tell you what Kei-Kei—you want to go to a restaurant tonight?”

The way his smile is so bright and infectious when he’s nodding yes has you leaning down and squeezing him into a hug as you both make your way to your apartment. The rest of the evening is spent with you cleaning Kei up and finishing up your own work—now that Kei isn’t going to full day care, you’re going to have to go to work for half the day so you can pick him up, leaving more work for you in the evenings.

Tonight, you’re determined to finish up your work quickly so you can take yourself and Kei out to dinner at some burger joint as a celebration for his first day of school. By the time you’re home, Kei is exhausted and nearly falling asleep in your arms as you carry him up. Setting him down and tucking him into bed is the last thing you do before going to the living room and sinking down into your couch, sighing out of your own fatigue.

You’d think you don’t have enough energy to think about anything else, but once you’ve cleaned up and are trudging to crash onto your bed, those thoughts are creeping up your back.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You roll around under your sheets, pressing your face into the pillow as you mumble incoherent curses. It was only a one night stand, only a casual fuck, so why are you here still thinking about him? For fuck’s sake he’s Kei’s teacher! You just can’t be having such thoughts about him! Right?

So why are you squirming under the sheets thinking about that night—the way he made you feel things you never could even imagine feeling. “Fuck!” you mutter to yourself, slamming a pillow over your head. You huff lowly, rolling over in your bed, pressing your eyes shut as you hope that if you pretend that you’re asleep hard enough, your brain will actually lull your consciousness away. And for a moment, it works—you’re asleep within a few minutes.The only downside? You may or may not be dreaming about Jeon Wonwoo.

The rest of the week is, thankfully, slightly easier on your heart. You only really go to Kei’s school to pick him and thanks to the valet system in place, you often don’t even have to get out of the car, one of the older volunteer students always helping him into your car.

Kei seems to be having the time of his life as well, always coming back home with saying something along the lines of, “Mommy, today Mr. Jeon taught us this really cool thing…” or “Mommy, Rei and I made up this new game at recess…”—least to say, you’re enthralled that he’s having a good time, and you almost forget about how his teacher haunts your thoughts every night.

It’s Friday now and as promised, you stay behind after school today so you can watch Kei play with his friends for some time on the playground. You’re on your phone, scrolling through some work emails to mentally calculate just how much you’ll have to work tonight to ensure a relaxing weekend. You're in the midst of frowning when you see a shadow approach you from the corner of your vision, although you pay it no mind. At least, not until you hear his voice.

“Hey.” It’s deep and calm and has you thrown back into those thoughts that you've been so desperately trying to avoid. You’re hyper aware of his figure next to you, and the way that his shoulders, his arms, feel so large and protective next to you is driving you fucking crazy.

“Oh,” you murmur in surprise, turning to look at him. “Hi Mr. Jeon,” you greet awkwardly, keeping a bit of distance between you two as you slip your phone into your purse, “it’s nice to see you here.”

He nods. “The feeling’s mutual,” he tells you, and although you figure it’s just a formality, the way he says it with that small smile tugging at his lips has your stomach doing tumbles. “You can call me Wonwoo, by the way.”

“O-okay Wonwoo,” you reply nervously as the air between you thickens, as if you’re both egging each other on seeing who’s going to fold first. You clear your throat before speaking again, “How’s Kei doing in your class? Is there anything I can do at home to help him?”

“Not at all. He’s a good student,” Wonwoo—god, his name sounds so nice in your head—replies almost immediately. “He’s really good at drawing, I’ve noticed.” Wonwoo notices how your face lights up at that comment, the tension on your shoulder dropping slightly as you respond.

“Yeah, he loves to draw at home. I’ve been thinking of putting him in an art class or something where he can practice and stuff,” you explain, eyes flickering over at Kei who’s sliding down some slide with another boy.

“That would be nice,” Wonwoo agrees, and once again the silence returns.

“I should get going now,” you say after a few moments, pulling your phone out to pretend like you’re checking the time. “Kei-Kei!” you call out, and it only takes a few seconds before your son is bounding down the playground and up to you as you crouch down. “Hey buddy, it’s time to go,” you tell him.

“But I wanna play Mommy!”

“Kei-Kei, please? I have to work tonight and you’ve played for almost an hour now.”

He’s frowning deeply and you find yourself almost caving in, but before you do, Wonwoo is speaking. “Listen to your mom, Kei, okay?” His voice is stern yet gentle, and the way Kei’s face softens has relief coursing through your veins.

“Okay Mr. Jeon,” Kei agrees, taking your hand as you stand up. You look at Wonwoo with gratitude.

“Thank you for that,” you say quietly, slightly embarrassed. “We’ll get going now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wonwoo says casually, pushing his hands into his pocket and stepping back. You’re walking away as you say bye, Kei flashing a grin at Wonwoo as he waves him goodbye. “See you later,” Wonwoo calls out to you. “Hopefully,” he adds and you swear he chuckles when he here’s you choke in shock. You don’t look back out of the humiliation that your cheeks are burning, tugging Kei along as he goes on about the new game he’s made up with his friends.

Jeon Wonwoo might just be the death of you.

The first month of Kei’s school continues to go smoothly. You don’t come across Wonwoo much after that, although that may partly be due to you avoiding him. It’s not as if you dislike him, in fact, it’s quite the opposite—you think you might like him too much.

His face, his glasses, his smile—fuck—the way he’s so kind, so gentle—you can’t seem to find a single thing wrong with him. Everyday Kei comes home babbling a new happy story about Mr. Jeon and what he taught the class, or a new compliment he gave him, and you can’t help but fall for him simply through the words of your son.

It is a little embarrassing, if you’re being honest—having a crush on a man at your big age—but you just can’t help it.

As the month progresses, you find both yourself and Kei get used to things—he seems to enjoy going to school every morning and you enjoy the happy smiles he holds when he returns. Everything seems to fall into a perfect pattern, with nothing seeming to go wrong. Well…that is, at least, until this Friday.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you exclaim, knuckles white as you grip the steering wheel, glancing at the time on your dashboard. Your last meeting ended up longer than you planned but you couldn’t leave, given it was with executives, and now you’re stuck in traffic as you’re already late to pick up Kei. “Ugh,” you groan out, trying to peer over the cars in front of you only to realize that you might be stuck here for a bit.

You’re slightly frantic trying to figure out what you’re going to do—any other day you would have called Jun and asked him to pick Kei up for you, but he’s on a trip with his friend so that isn’t an option right now. Chewing on your bottom lip, you glance at the unmoving traffic and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t think twice before hitting the contant labeled Mr. Jeon, letting out a sigh of relief when you hear the other end pick up your call.

“Hello, Mr. Jeon?” you say quickly when you hear some shuffling on the other side. “This is Kei’s mom.”

He says your name softly before asking, “Can I help you?”

“Hi, yes, I’m really sorry, but I think Kei might be waiting for me at the valet but I’m stuck in traffic and I—fuck—” you mutter when you need to slam the breaks hard. “—sorry for my language—I just don’t know how long it’ll take for me to pick him up and I don’t want him to wait for me too long so I was hoping that there was something you could do so he could wait in the office or something—anything really—just so he can wait somewhere safer while I come,” you blabber.

Wonwoo takes a few seconds to reply, and for a moment you think you might have spoken so quickly that he didn’t hear a single thing you said. “He can stay in my room, if that’s okay with you,” he finally says, and you blink a few times.

“I—really? Tha-that’s definitely okay with me, yeah. That would be amazing, thank you so much Mr. Je—Wonwoo. Thank you,” you ramble, shutting up quickly when you hear a soft chuckle from the other side.

“Yes really. Don’t worry about it, I usually stay in the class after school anyways. You said he’s in the valet?”

“Yes, he usually waits by the tree,” you tell him, and a silence can be heard from Wonwoo as he gets up from his seat. “Thank you again, I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“No problem,” he replies, and with that you hang up, leaning back in your seat as you feel you can finally relax now.

It takes you around another 25 minutes before you’re finally pulling up to the school's parking lot, quickly making your way through the familiar route to Kei’s classroom. Knocking on the door, you peer through the small glass window, insides growing warm and fuzzy at the scene of Kei happy drawing on a desk. It takes a few seconds but then there’s a hand on the knob, opening the door for you.

“Thank you so much,” you let out before you can even see all of Wownoo’s figure.

He laughs and holy hell is it one attractive laugh (since when did you start finding laughs attractive?!). “Stop saying thank you, please,” he groans jokingly. “I might just start feeling bad. Seriously, it’s no problem, I’m usually here for a while anyway and Kei is wonderful company.”

You purse your lips, tentatively stepping into the room as Wonwoo moves for you, arm brushing against yours as you approach Kei. “Hey Kei-Kei, you wanna go now?”

Kei turns to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “But Mr. Jeon said I could play outside if I wanted!” You turn your head to look at Wonwoo, raising a brow.

“Uh, since the supervisors are still out I said he could play in a bit since I didn’t know when you were going to come,” he explains, and your gaze softens, turning back to your son.

“Okay Kei-Kei, but only fifteen minutes, okay?” you tell him, helping him clean up as Kei makes his way out the door and towards the playground. After putting his stuff away, you pick up his bag and head in the same direction as Kei to follow him, pausing when you feel a hand on your wrist.

“You can stay here, you know?” Wonwoo tells you, a smirk playing at his lips. “I don’t bite.”

You plaster a sympathetic smile through your nervousness, hastily replying, “I know, I just—I’ve already bothered you today and I think I should just head off now.”

“You aren’t bothering me.”

“Okay well,” you counter as you make your way to the door, “what if I just really want to watch my son have fun?”

“You’re really good at this, you know?”

“Good at what?”

“So, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” Wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. Heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze.

“I'm not avoiding you Mr. Jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. He takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "Really?" Wonwoo murmurs, "Because I think you're lying." You both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. He steps away with a heavy breath. "I'm sorry. You can get going if you—"

You aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his. Wonwoo’s arms fly up to your face and cup your cheeks, immediately running his tongue along your lips. The familiar taste of his tongue sliding against yours is something that you thought you wouldn’t experience after that night, but having him with you, right now, like this is enough to have your mind racing—he’s so fucking addicting that you can’t even fathom how you went more than a day without him.

Wonwoo's grasp on your face has you tilting your face, noses brushing past each other as you deepen the kiss, your fingers lacing in his thick locks to hold him close. His lips move so effortlessly against yours you'd even go as far to say you two were dancing, as you stumble back into the wall. Wonwoo presses you against the surface and you let out a gasp as he leans down, kissing you so hard and passionately that it might just suck the air out of you.

And it probably does, considering when you finally pull away from each other you’re gasping for air both from just how long Wonwoo’s lips stayed connected to yours, along with how breathtakingly amazing of a kisser he is. He looks down at you with some sort of sparkling look in his eyes and it has you weak in the knees, gripping onto his hair tighter.

He lets out a low grunt at the action and holy fuck the sound is doing things to you but then you’re both reminded of where you are and what you’re doing and then Wonwoo is stepping back as you let go of him, putting some space between you two. His glasses are slightly foggy and he takes them off to rub the moisture away on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” You reach for his hand, cutting him off.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, somewhat bashful of your own actions as you look down, “We both did that so uh…don’t apologize.” Wonwoo looks up at you and then back down at your hand holding his, squeezing it comfortingly.

“Okay,” he says gently, reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Can I, uh, get your number? I only have it saved on the school phone…” he asks hopefully, looking up at you as he uses one hand to smooth his ruffled hair, the other holding up his phone in your direction.

Your lips are pressed into a tight smile as you try to hide your cheeky grin. “Of course,” you say maybe a little too quickly, punching in your digits and handing it back to him. A silence settles between you two, but it isn’t uncomfortable like before, no, it’s rather…warm now.

“I…” Wonwoo starts to admit, “…never thought I’d end up in a situation like this.” You giggle and nod your head in agreement. “But, um, I’d like to see where this goes.”

“I like the sound of that,” you reply with a smile, and it's the truth—your stomach tumbles with a good feeling that things might just go your way.

a/n: hope u liked it! i'm super duper excited for this story and was literally kicking my feet writing this so you can expect a part 2 quite soon! in the meantime, please like, comment, and reblog! send me an ask or comment if you'd like to be tagged in part 2!

pt.2

#jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fanfic #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x you #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #📝 writing

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herecomethatboi · 5 months

Text

Dbd killers x gn!reader pt. 3

Part 3 of mc getting slammed against the wall lol

Guys I need more, feel free to send me any kind of request (nsfw abc, sfw abc, more parts for this silly series etc)you have and i'll gladly write them all :D (when my final exams are finally over hahaha)

Also, I was drunk when I wrote this and I trust drunk-me with writing. He's better at writing than sober-me, so here's an unedited "masterpiece"!

ENJOYYYY 🩷🩷

The Mastermind:

At the start of the match you saw the gray metal box right next to you and knew exactly who you were up against.

You weren't thrilled at all, Wesker or "Mastermind" -as the Entity called him- was such a try hard with his skillful dashes, that you sometimes questioned if he actually was just doing it since "it's better strategy" and not for the fact he enjoys doing stunts like that.

You sighed as you rummaged around the other normal chest you found -since you forgot to equip an item- and found a flashlight, which was perfect.

Then, you heard his little chuckle Wesker does, before he dashes and was swept up immedietly and thrown quite far away.

You groaned at the impact, but got up and ran, the killer close on your tail.

Just in time, you found a pallet and smacked it on top of his head, flashed the flashlight into his face -which usually angers him a lot- and then ran more.

This back and forth between you two continued, and three gens already popped, which you were glad about.

But, alas, your confidence came back to bite you in the ass.

Wesker caught you again, slammed you against the shack, and just kept you there, while he grinned.

"Caught you now." The killer was so so close, your lips almost touched.

He was amused in his own twisted way. An ordinary human made him run so much, but in the end, was caught easily.

"Gonna hook me now?" You squeked out, your throat was held tight with the uwuburos, making breathing difficult.

Awh, you're adorable. A little mouse, if you will. Wesker knew the Entity's rules, but eventually, he will have his fun with you.

Another gen popped.

"Oh no, i'm keeping you here." He said, gave you a little peck on the lips, just to confuse you even further. Nootherreasonwhatareyoutalkingabout.

Then stepped away, but the virus stayed, locking you against the wall. "Your performance was above average. Congratulations." He bowed. "You gained the tiniest respect from me."

He left with a smirk. You tried to claw away the black thing that just didn't seem budge or tear away. So, you gave up. You looked up into the fake dark sky, thinking...

What the Hell did you get into.

The Nightmare (Freddy Krueger):

The dream realm was a tricky thing to navigate in. You sometimes were weirded out by the bloodpools that scared the living shit out of you, when you accidently stepped into them.

Today, there were no generators. Which made you uneasy. What the heck is going on?

You walked into the main building and tried to listen.

Then, the laugh. That annoying, weird, freaky laugh Freddy made, then you were in the dream realm. You looked around, like a deer in headlight. Trying to listen in on the killer.

"What the Hell is going on?" You asked out loud. You turned around and there he was, leaning against a generator that was NOT there a second ago.

"A new game." He simply amswered with a grin. Freddy seemed too happy. "A little gift from the Entity to me."

"Okay, but wha-"

"Shhh shhh shhh let me finish."

"Sorry."

"Khm. So, easy," he leaned away from the gen and stepped toward you, "you find the fake generator, and you win a price!" His grin told you there was a twist.

"If I don't?"

"... you'll know." He said with a childish innocence. "Good luck!" Then he disappeared.

Great.

After God knows how long, you finally found the fake generator. Which made it bleed, just like in normal trials, and Freddy appeared.

"Now, that wasn't that difficult, was it?"

"What the Hell is your game, Freddy?"

"Making out with you."

"What??" Before your shock truely registered, you were up against the bloody generator with him kissing you roughly.

You tried to push against him, but there was no use, of course there wasn't, you mentally rolled your eyes.

So, you just let it happen.

The kiss wasn't... Bad. You sadly had to admit.

Freddy held you surprisingly gently by the waist and neck. But his kiss was bruising and he did bite your lower lip more than once.

You started to actually kiss back and held his waist in one hand, while the other was on his shoulder.

Why were you kissing back? What the Hell is wrong with you? You don't know, but it feels... Right?

Then, you woke up wide eyed. You blinked a thousand times and just stared above you. The roof of your tent cleared up from the blurry image it was. Then you just... Licked you lip, feeling it was dry and had a smoky taste.

WHAT. THE. HELL????

#dead by daylight #dbd x gn reader #dbd x reader #freddy krueger #freddy kruger x reader #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #x gn reader #gn reader

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doctorbitchcrxft · 3 months

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Croatoan | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: implied suicidal ideation, canon violence, canon gore, medical stuff lol

Word Count: 6176

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Sam had another vision; one involving Dean killing some dude strapped to a chair. Apparently, the dude had been begging, saying, “It’s not in me!”

‘What’s not in him, though? A demon? THE demon?’ you thought as he relayed his story.

“Well, I’m sure he had good reason,” you told Sam when he was finished.

“Well, I sure hope so—”

“What does that mean?” Dean grunted.

Sam didn’t reply.

“I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man,” he scoffed.

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

“He wouldn’t, Sam,” you stated, your tone warning.

“I never said he would!”

“Sure seemed implied,” you commented.

“Look, we don't know what it is,” sighed Sam. “But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what.”

“Fine,” Dean said.

“Fine,” said Sam.

The rest of the drive to Crater Lake, Oregon, was done in silence.

***

You pulled into the small town of Rivergrove along the main strip of small businesses and homely apartment complexes. Most of the shops almost looked like wooden cabins, and you approached a man sitting under one of the wooden overhangs cleaning a rifle.

“Morning,” Dean called.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” He turned to you.

“Yeah.” Dean pulled out his badge. “Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Kymberly Herrin. U.S. Marshals.”

The man furrowed his brows. “What’s this about?”

“We're looking for someone,” he answered.

“A young man, early twenties,” added Sam. “He'd have a— a thin scar right below his hairline.”

The man seemed surprised. “What’d he do?”

“Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us,” Sam replied.

“Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, not yet,” Dean chuckled. He looked down at the intricate tattoo on the man’s forearm. “I think maybe you know who he is… Master Sergeant.” He smiled. “My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal.”

“What company?” the man asked.

“Echo-2-1,” Dean replied, smiling proudly.

Sam got back to business. “So, can you help us?”

The man hesitated before talking again. “Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean.”

Dean nodded. “Oh, I'm sure he does. Um. You know where he lives?”

“With his family, up Aspen Way.”

“Thank you.”

You bumped into a telephone pole as you and the brothers headed back to the car. You looked down at it, and something caught your eye. There was a single word etched into the pole: “CROATOAN.” You brushed your fingers over the etching. “Guys, look.”

“Croatoan?” Dean read.

“Yeah.”

Dean looked at you blankly.

Sam gave him a look. “Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?”

“Yeah! Shots heard 'round the world, How bills become laws…” Dean trailed off.

“That's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock,” Sam scoffed.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Anywho,” you cut back in. “Roanoke was one of the first English colonies— late 1500s-ish?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that,” Dean said excitedly. “The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan.”

“Yeah. There were theories,” you continued. “Native American raid, disease, famine, but nobody really knows what happened. They were all just… gone. Wiped out overnight.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean—”

Sam cut him off with a sigh. “Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?”

“Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so…” Dean trailed off.

“We should get help. Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe?” Sam suggested.

“Good idea,” you said. You pulled out your phone to call Bobby, only to discover you had no signal. “Great. No signal.”

The two brothers took their phones out as well.

“Huh, me neither,” said Sam.

“Nada,” Dean stated.

“Payphone, maybe?” you tried, leading the boys over to one. Unfortunately for you, all you heard was a beeping to signify no signal. “Line's dead.” You hung up the phone.

“I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step,” Dean noted, pointing at the payphone.

***

You pulled up in front of a homely, slightly tacky cabin. Sam rapped his knuckles against the door, and almost immediately, a teenage boy opened it.

“Yeah?” he grinned.

Dean flashed his badge. “We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?”

“Yeah, he's my brother,” the boy nodded.

“Can we talk to him?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. “Oh, he's not here right now.”

“Do you know where he is?” Dean pressed.

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake.”

“Your parents home?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, they're inside,” the boy nodded.

“Jake?” a voice called. ‘Oh, that’s his name.’ “Who is it?”

Dean spoke as the owner of the voice appeared. “Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane.”

Mr. Tanner seemed confused. “Wh— Why? He's not in trouble, is he?”

“No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all.” Dean flashed a winning smile.

“When's he due back from his trip?” questioned Sam.

“I'm not sure.”

“Well, maybe your wife knows.”

The man’s eerie smile was far too cheerful for the current conversation. “No, I don't know, she's not here right now.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Your son said she was.”

Jake seemed caught. “Did I?”

This whole thing was weirding you the hell out.

“She's getting groceries,” Mr. Tanner smiled. “So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?”

“Oh, no,” Dean said. “We'll just check in with you later.”

The three of you turned back down the steps, and you waited to talk until you heard the door close. “That was kind of creepy, right? Little too… Stepford?”

“Big time,” Dean replied.

You headed around the back of the house, ducking down to avoid being seen by the Tanners. You caught sight of a poor woman with mussed up blonde hair tied to a chair sweating and crying. You cocked your gun as Dean kicked in the door, and you quickly shot Mr. Tanner in the chest when he tried to charge you with a knife. You turned to Sam and Dean who were over by the window.

“He got away,” Dean grunted, referencing Jake who had leapt out of the window.

“Great,” you sighed. You turned your attention back to the woman in the chair and noticed a profusely bleeding wound. “Dean, start the car. Sam, get her to the backseat. I’m gonna patch her up as best I can til we can get to a doctor.”

The boys nodded and rushed to do your bidding. You rushed to the trunk of the Impala and pulled out your makeshift first aid kit— a collection of wraps, bandages, antiseptics, antibiotics, sutures, sewing needles, thread, and painkillers you gathered from random pharmacies and kept in a small, vintage tin box with roses etched into the lid and occasionally refilled. You hurriedly got in the backseat with the woman, and you kept her conscious by asking her questions about herself. You learned her name was Beverly, and that her two sons, Duane and Jake, went fishing and hunting together all the time. Her first sign that something was wrong was that Jake didn’t go with his brother on the trip. After her hiccups mourning the death of her husband— for which you profusely apologized to her— and hissing in pain as you kept pressure on her wound, you finally arrived at a small clinic on the main stretch of road.

You held the pressure on her shoulder as you led her into the clinic, yelling, “Doctor! We need a doctor!”

A young woman in a pleasant floral jacket and cute pink headband came rushing out, concerned. “Mrs. Tanner, what happened?” she asked the woman on your shoulder.

“She’s been attacked,” you explained, hurrying past her.

“Dr. Lee!” the young woman called.

The doctor instructed you to head down the hallway into an examination room. You gently placed her down on the bed, and Beverly moaned as you shifted position around her to continue holding her shoulder. The doctor came into the room moments later followed by Sam and Dean, who stood at the doorway. You filled the doctor in on the medical history you’d gathered from Mrs. Tanner on the way to the clinic, and the doctor immediately set to work stitching the wound. You tossed the tattered and bloodstained jacket Mrs. Tanner had been wearing into the garbage and washed your hands up to your elbows.

Beverly began to explain what happened to the doctor, who seemed shocked. “Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?” the doctor asked.

Beverly nodded. “They beat me. Tied me up.”

“I don't believe it,” the young nurse breathed out.

“Beverly… do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?” Dr. Lee questioned.

“No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them.” Beverly shook as she spoke.

You walked out into the hallway with Sam and Dean.

“Those guys were whacked out of their gourds,” Dean commented.

“Ya think?” you snorted. “And what I don’t understand is, if they already beat and subdued her, why put that giant gash on her shoulder? That wound was fresh; like it happened this morning. Everything else seemed a few days old, at least.”

“Yeah, this whole thing is weird, man,” Sam added. “What do you guys think? Multiple demons, mass possession?”

“If it is a possession there could be more. I mean, God knows how many, it could be like a friggin' Shriner convention,” Dean grumbled. “Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside.”

“I don't know, man. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs,” Sam reminded his brother.

“Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if you woulda taken out the other one, there'd be one less to worry about,” the older brother chided.

Sam huffed, “I'm sorry, alright? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!”

“Boys, relax!” you scolded, standing between them.

Dean looked over your head at Sam. “No, it was an ‘it’. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam.”

“Dean,” you murmured harshly.

Dr. Lee stalked out of the lab, heels clicking loudly on the floor to let the brothers know it was time to stop arguing.

“How is she?” you asked her.

“Terrible! What the hell happened out there?” she questioned.

“We don't know,” Dean shook his head.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor.” Dr. Lee crossed her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you told her. “All of us would’ve been dead if I hadn’t.”

“Maybe so, but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner —”

Sam cut her off. “Phones are down.”

“I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?” Dr. Lee pleaded.

“Yeah, we do. But it crapped out just like everything else,” Sam said.

The blonde ran a hand through her hair and began to pace. “I don't understand what is happening.”

“How far is it to the next town?” you asked her.

“It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

“Alright, I'm gonna go down there, see if I can find some help. You’re coming with me.” He looked down at you before clapping Sam on the shoulder. “My partner 'll stick around, keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?” Dr. Lee questioned pointedly.

“We'll get back to you on that,” Dean responded. He then led you away from Sam and Dr. Lee and out to the Impala.

“What’d you do with Mr. Tanner?” you asked him.

“He’s in the lab somewhere. Man’s heavier than he looks,” he joked as he began to drive off.

“Dean, I killed him,” you mourned. “He was just a guy. Now, his two sons don’t have a father. He was a person.”

“(Y/N), since when are you all morally gray?” Dean questioned gently. His usual bite behind his sarcasm was missing. “I get it, but he wasn’t ‘just a guy’ anymore.”

“I know that,” you said. “That’s what I’m starting to get worried about. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice. Vamps used to be people. Hell, one of my first vamp kills was my parents. I don’t know what’s happening to me, man. I don’t hesitate— hell no— but… I don’t know.”

“Hey, I get it.” He reached across the seat and grabbed your hand. “I’m a straight shooter, too. I’m in the same place you are.”

You scooched across the bench seat and kept your hand entwined with Deans, playing with his fingers. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed it, eyes never leaving the road.

“Things keep getting weirder, dude. Since when do we second-guess?” You tried to muster a laugh, but your heart wasn’t in it.

“I know. This whole thing is spinnin’ out of our control. I hate it,” he admitted.

“Yeah, me, too,” you murmured. “I wish we could’ve met under normal circumstances.”

He chuckled. “Hm. Me, too.”

The rest of the drive was spent hand in hand and silent. You continued to play with Dean’s fingers and kept your head on his shoulder. Only when you saw two cars blocking the road and men standing with their large guns drawn did you pull your head up. Dean’s grip on your hand tightened— whether to reassure you or himself, you weren’t sure— as he rolled to a stop. You noticed one of the men in front of you was the teenager from the Tanner house, Jake. He stopped the car, frowning. Something banged on the roof of the car, making both you and Dean jump. His hand never left yours, and he shifted his body toward the man leaning down into the window almost protectively in front of you. “Oh-ho-ho. Hey,” Dean awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry. Road's closed,” the man at the driver’s side window grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that. What's up?” Dean questioned.

“Quarantine,” was his simple reply.

“Quarantine? Why?” you asked. Dean stiffened and tried to hide you more with his body when you spoke.

“Don't know,” the man tsked. “Something going around out there.”

“Uh-huh. Who told you that?” Dean asked, sass lying just below the surface of his tone.

The man’s face was blank when he responded. “County Sheriff.”

“Is he here?”

“No. He called. Say, why don't you get out of the car and we'll talk a little?”

Dean laughed nervously. “Well, you are a handsome devil, but I don't swing that way, sorry.”

“I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute.” The man’s stoicism was beginning to drop, and the anger bubbling just below the surface was becoming visible.

“Yeah, I'll bet you would.” Dean released your hand to quickly throw the car in reverse. The man grabbed his collar and held on for dear life as you tried your best to pry his fingers off. Thankfully, Dean swung the car around, finally cutting the man loose, and sped away. The sound of guns firing at the car filled your ears, but none of the bullets seemed to be hitting their desired target.

“You okay?” Dean asked you, throwing you a worried look.

“Yeah,” you heaved. “You?”

“Peachy,” he grunted.

Suddenly, the ex-military man you first met in town stepped in the path of the Impala, brandishing a rifle.

Dean slammed on his brakes, and you put your hands on the dashboard to steady yourself.

“Hands where I can see 'em!” the man yelled.

“Son of a—” Dean grumbled, holding his hands up. You did the same.

“Get out of the car! Out of the car!” he commanded.

You slowly slid across the seat to the passenger’s side door as Dean started climbing out. You took the opportunity of your hands being hidden behind the door to quickly whip out your handgun.

“Drop the gun!” you ordered.

“Put it down, now!” the man yelled back at you. “Are y’all part of 'em?!”

“No!” Dean answered. “Are you?”

“No!”

“You could be lying!” Dean protested.

“So could you!”

“Alright! Alright,” you broke in. “We could do this all day, alright? Let's just, uh, let's take it easy before we kill each other.”

The sergeant relaxed slightly. “What's going on with everybody?”

“I don't know,” you admitted.

“My neighbor— Mr. Rogers, he—”

Dean interrupted the man. “You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?”

“Not anymore,” the man responded gruffly. “He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one, I mean, it's happening to everyone.”

“We’re heading over to the Doc's place, there's still some people left,” Dean explained.

“No, no way. I'm getting the hell out,” the older man stated.

“There's no way out, they got the bridge covered, now come on,” the older Winchester said.

“I don't believe you,” the man replied.

“Fine, stay here, be my guest.” It was then you noticed Dean was pointing a handgun at the man, too, who hesitated before walking over to the backseat of the Impala. He swapped his rifle for a handgun as he stooped down into the backseat, and you kept your gun trained on him over the back of your seat. The older man kept his gun aimed at you, but his eyes would frantically flick to Dean every now and again.

Dean looked between you and the man and put his gun away to be able to drive back to the clinic. “Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive.”

You pinned the sergeant to his spot in the backseat with a hard glare and your gun on him. He returned your glare and pointed gun the whole way to the clinic. Despite your aching arms, you refused to falter. “What’s your name?” you asked him, still on your guard.

“Mark.”

“Mark. Nice to meet you, Mark,” you smiled despite your situation.

Dean slowed to a stop in front of the clinic, and you and Mark mutually agreed to relax your guns.

“Sammy? Open up!” Dean banged on the door to the clinic.

Sam appeared at the glass a few moments later and allowed you inside. You kept your gun cocked and in your hand but pointed at the floor.

“Did you guys, uh, get to a phone?” Sam questioned, looking between the three guns you were all brandishing.

“Road block.” Dean turned to Mark. “I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside.”

Mark looked between the three of you, hesitating, before heading inside.

“What's going on out there, guys?” Sam asked.

“Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. I mean, Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Doc thinks it's a virus.”

Dean snorted. “Okay, great. What do you think?”

“I think she's right.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Really,” Sam answered. “And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The, uh, the virus? Leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“Cool. Demonic virus,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare,” Sam added. “At least it explains why I've been having visions.”

“It's like a Biblical plague,” noted Dean.

“Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean. I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony,” Sam began. “Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “Well, that— that's terrific. Why here, why now?”

“I have no idea. But Dean, who knows how far this thing can spread? We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people—”

Before any of you could speak, Mark called from the back of the clinic, “They've got one! In here!”

Dean entered the room behind Sam. “What do you mean?” he asked Mark.

“The wife. She's infected,” Sam explained.

“We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get,” Mark urged.

You hesitated, but only for a moment, before brushing past Sam and Dean into the lab with your gun drawn.

“Whoa!” the sweet nurse from earlier exclaimed. “You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?”

“Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?” Sam pleaded.

“Can you cure it?” You turned toward Dr. Lee.

“For God's sake, I don't even know what ‘it’ is!” she cried.

“I told you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through,” Mark told you.

“Just leave her in there, you can't shoot her like an animal!” the young nurse said.

You slowly walked over to the door of the utility room Beverly was being held in. You, Dean, and Mark held your guns steady on the door. Sam carefully opened it to reveal Beverly huddled on the floor in a corner, crying into her knees. She jumped as you approached. “Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's, it's them!” She pointed at you, Dean, and Sam, who stood over your shoulder. “They locked me in here, they— they tried to kill me! They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!”

“You sure she's one of 'em?” Dean asked, looking at his brother.

Sam nodded. Mark pulled back, looking distraught, and you took the opportunity to step forward.

In an attempt to hear as few of her cries for mercy as possible, you quickly fired one shot square between her eyes. Guilt immediately clawed at your throat, and you thought you could throw up. You stowed your gun and crouched beside her crumpled form. You moved her into a less disturbing configuration, laying her on her back with her arms crossed over her chest. You closed her paralyzed, open eyes and brushed through her hair with your fingers. With the back of your hand, you wiped your own eyes and stood, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you.

Choked up, you pushed past a concerned Sam and Dean and headed out to the car. You grabbed your duffel bag to have some reason for going outside from the trunk when you heard a sound from down the street: a car approaching. Your breath caught, and you ducked behind the wall of the clinic’s entrance; back pressed to it. You peeked out briefly to see Jake was the one driving the car with the man who had tried to kill you and Dean earlier. Soundlessly, you slipped back inside the building and turned the lights at the entrance off.

You locked both the door to the entrance and the door to the waiting room behind you, hurriedly pulling down the shades and turning off as many unnecessary lights as possible. You turned the light off in the waiting room and stormed into the lab where everyone was huddled together. You pulled down the shades behind Dr. Lee wordlessly.

“(Y/N/N)?” Sam asked gently. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re here. Everybody, get yourself a weapon from my bag if you know how to use one. Don’t grab one, get injured, and then get infected, got it?” you ordered.

Sam nodded and grabbed your bag from you. He threw you your bowie knife and pulled a hunting knife from the duffel for himself.

The young nurse, who you learned was named Pam, dropped a vial of blood, and she screamed. “Oh god! Is there any on me? Am I okay?”

Dr. Lee tried to calm her down. “You're clean, you're okay.”

“Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go!” Pam cried.

“No, we can't because those things are everywhere,” Dean stated firmly.

Pam began to sink to the floor. “Oh god!—”

“Hey, shh, shh,” Dr. Lee told her.

Sam turned to you and Dean who stood together by the lab’s entrance. “She's right about one thing,” he said just loud enough for the two of you to hear. “We can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here, get to the Roadhouse? Somewhere. Let people know what's coming.”

“Yeah, good point,” Dean nodded. “Night of the Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty.”

“Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice,” Mark cut in. “Lots of folks up here are good with rifles— even with all your hardware we're- we're easy targets. So unless you've got some explosives…” he trailed off.

You looked up at the shelf of medical supplies and turned to Sam. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Yeah, actually.” He grabbed a bottle of potassium chloride and waved it at you.

“I’m lost, what’s happening here?” Dean questioned. “Speak, nerds.”

You deadpanned at him. “Potassium chlorate bombs. I’ve gotta figure out a way to ionize the chloride and get some oxygen in it; otherwise, this’ll never—”

Your explanation was cut off by a loud banging on the door.

“Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!” the voice called as you approached the door.

“It's Duane Tanner!” Mark announced. He opened the door to let him in, and you grabbed your gun in your jacket immediately.

“Thank god,” Duane breathed out, walking into the clinic.

Mark locked the door behind him. “Duane, you okay?”

Dean quietly asked Sam, “That's the guy that I, uh—” he clicked his tongue.

Sam nodded, seeming shaken.

“Who else is in here?” Duane went to step into the lab, but Dean grabbed his arm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief,” he said. “Hey Doc! Give Duane a good once-over, would you?”

Dr. Lee led your group into the lab. “Pam?”

Pam seemed to understand what that meant and moved to gather medical supplies.

“Who are you?” Duane asked Dean.

“Never mind who I am. Doc.”

Dr. Lee nodded nervously. “Yeah, okay.”

“Duane. Where you been?” Mark asked softly.

“On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I— I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?”

Your heart squeezed in your chest and bile rose in your throat.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Dean whispered to you.

You could barely hear him over your heart pounding against your ribcage. You then noticed a deep gash in Duane’s left leg. “He’s bleeding.”

“Where'd you get that?” Dean interrogated.

“I was running, I must have tripped.” Duane’s cool tone was making it difficult to read whether he was infected or genuinely had no idea what was going on.

“Tie him up, there's rope in there,” the older brother ordered. You complied and dug the rope out of the supply closet.

“Wait—” Duane said, attempting to stand.

“Sit down!” Dean commanded, pointing his gun at Duane.

“I'm sorry, Duane, he's right,” Mark agreed. “We've gotta be careful.”

“Careful? About what?”

“Did they bleed on you?” Dean questioned, not answering the young man’s question.

“No, what the hell? No!” Duane frantically answered.

“Doc? Any way to know for sure, any test?” Sam questioned. You could tell he was trying to deescalate the situation before his vision came true.

Dr. Lee sighed. “I've studied Beverly's bloodwork backwards and forwards.”

“My mom!” Duane cried.

Dr. Lee continued. “It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so… no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns.”

Sam looked over to his brother. “Dean, I gotta talk to you. Now.”

Dean looked over to you, and you nodded, standing up from where you’d tied Duane to the chair he was sitting in. You drew your gun and trained it on him while the brothers stepped out into the hall.

Dean reappeared a minute or so later.

“Where’s Sam?” you asked him.

He didn’t answer you. He simply cocked his gun and looked past you at Duane. Pam and Dr. Lee startled to their feet, chests heaving as they looked between Dean and Duane.

“No, you're not gonna—” Duane heaved. “No, no, I swear it's not in me!”

“Oh God. We're all gonna die,” Pam cried.

“Maybe he's telling the truth,” Mark tried.

“No, he's not him, not anymore.”

“Stop it! Ask her, ask the doctor! It's not in me!” Duane pleaded.

Dr. Lee shook her head and hesitantly looked at Dean. “I… I can’t tell.”

Duane began to sob. “Please, don't. Don't, please. I swear, it's not in me, it's not in me, I swear, I— I swear it's not in me. No, don't.”

Dean seemed to get choked up, too. “I got no choice.”

You stared at him, eyes almost pleading him not to pull the trigger. However, you would also respect his choice if he did; you knew the risks. Dean trembled, hesitating, and finally lowered the gun. “Dammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He left the room, and you followed. Dean let Sam out of the room he’d apparently locked his younger brother in wordlessly and kept stalking down the hall. Sam simply looked after him for a moment before turning back to the lab, but you followed Dean further.

He turned into a dark exam room at the end of the hall. You did so as well, making sure the curtains were drawn as tightly as possible before you flicked on the desk lamp. Dean sat in a chair while you sat in another, facing him. Neither of you said a word for a moment.

“What made you stop?” you asked him.

He hesitated before answering. “Sam,” he replied simply. “And you.”

Your breath caught at his admission. “Me?” you asked, just loud enough for him to hear.

He nodded, unable to meet your gaze.

“Why?” you asked softly.

“Couldn’t let you watch me do that,” he muttered. “And… I want you to see me how I see you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean— You just— You remind me that there’s good out there. In all this crap. You make me wanna be better,” he admitted, gaze still pointed to the floor.

You reached over and tilted his chin to face you with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. “Dean—”

He cut you off by surging forward to crush his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, winding your hands around his neck and threading your fingers through his hair. He cupped your chin with one hand and grabbed your waist with the other. You kissed once, then again, then one final time before simply resting your foreheads against each other’s. You nudged his nose with yours, eyes still closed, and he stroked circles on your hip with his thumb.

The two of you were broken apart by the sound of a scream and two shots being fired off. You barely shared a look before sprinting toward the sound with your guns drawn.

“It’s Sam,” Mark told you. “He’s infected.”

Your jaw went slack at the sight of Sam on the floor with an open wound on his chest and Pam lying dead on the floor beside him.

“Oh, god,” you breathed out, turning to see Dean completely shocked and terrified.

*** Your group had Sam tied to a chair with a bandage over his wound. Dean was angry, and Sam seemed defeated. Your heart broke for both brothers and for the fact that you were gonna lose an amazing friend soon.

“Nobody is shooting my brother,” Dean stated firmly.

Duane argued, “He isn't gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.”

“Nobody is shooting anyone!” you shouted.

“He was gonna shoot me!” Duane gestured toward Dean.

“You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!” Dean grunted.

Sam’s sad voice caught everyone’s attention. “Dean, they're right. I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself.”

“Fuck that,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things,” Sam pleaded.

“Sam, we've still got some time—”

Mark cut Dean off. “Time for what? Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this.” He pulled out his gun.

“I'm gonna say this one time— you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? Do I make myself clear?!” Dean growled.

Mark’s face was set in hard lines. “Then what are we supposed to do?!”

Dean tossed Mark his kets. “Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now. (Y/N), you go with them.”

“Dean, no!” you said. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Sweetheart, you have to—”

“No!”

“Guys, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance!” Sam cried.

Dean turned to his younger brother. “You're not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

Mark chimed back in. “No, he's right. Come with us.”

Dean just stared at him.

“Okay, it's your funeral.” He led Duane and Dr. Lee out the door.

“Thank you, for everything,” Dr. Lee told you as she left.

“Don’t mention it,” you said halfheartedly.

She shut the door behind you, and Sam began to cry.

You were repeatedly surprised by Dean’s sense of play and slight immaturity at the grimmest of moments. “Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something.”

“Don’t do this,” Sam pleaded. “Just get the hell out of here.”

“He’s right, (Y/N), you should leave,” Dean tired.

You crossed your arms and spoke with authority despite your soft tone. “Dean, we’ve discussed this already. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Give me my gun and leave,” Sam begged.

“For the last time, Sam. No,” Dean stated.

Sam slammed his fists against his chair. “This is the dumbest thing you've ever done.”

“Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?” Dean shuddered.

“Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you two,” Sam sobbed. “You can keep going.”

“Who says I want to?” Dean admitted.

“What?” you and Sam breathed out.

Dean pulled his handgun out of his waistband and put it on the file cabinet behind him. “I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life… this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it.”

Sam scoffed. “So, what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has—”

“You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but…” he trailed off.

“What is it about?” Sam questioned.

A knock at the door broke the tense silence settled over the room. “You'd better come see this,” Dr. Lee called through the door.

You quickly untied Sam and brought him out to where Dr. Lee, Dean, Mark, and Duane were already gathered.

“There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just… vanished,” Dr. Lee explained.

“Croatoan,” you realized, looking over at the telephone pole opposite you.

***

Miraculously, the virus didn’t incubate in Sam’s blood. Strangely, when Dr. Lee looked back at the Tanner samples, the sulfur was gone, too. Confused and slightly uneasy, you and the brothers packed up the Impala.

“Hey, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come,” Duane suggested to Dr. Lee.

“I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here. If they'll believe me. Take care,” she told them.

Mark waved to the three of you as well as Dr. Lee.

“What about him?” Dean pointed to his brother.

“He's going to be fine. No signs of infection,” she grinned.

You turned to Sam.

“Hey, don't look at me. I got no clue,” he said.

“I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go? It's like they just fuckin’ melted,” Dean griped.

“Why was I immune?” Sam wondered aloud.

“Yeah. You know what? That's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away.” Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car and pulled away from the town. His words hung ominously over the car for the remainder of your drive.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn #spn series rewrite

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shima-draws · 1 year

Note

Tell us about the AU! I know you want to!!

WAUGHHH. AGHHH. OKAY. OKAY SO. I've been watching one of my favorite content creators play through the DLC. Early on in the playthrough he was tossing around theories and said "Maybe KIERAN is Ogerpon??" and that gave me a BRILLIANT THOUGHT.

Ogerpon Kieran AU.......

I've already thought of a very long and complex backstory for this LOL but to simplify it. Before the ogre and its human companion came to Kitakami, said companion was actually living a very happy life with his child. However, they were caught up in the midst of a great war that ended up taking the child's life. The man was so overcome with grief that it summoned a great being (I'm thinking Xerneas), who blessed his dead child with new life. And that child was reborn as Ogerpon!! So kinda like how children who get lost in the woods and die are reborn as Phantump.

Fast forward to many many years later. A long chain of events leads to Carmine's grandfather's...father (so, her great-grandpa?) meeting Ogerpon and vowing to make it a new mask, a mystical and powerful mask that could grant wishes. Sadly, Carmine's great-grandpa wasn't able to complete the mask before he died. This project was eventually picked up by Carmine's father (and I have a whole other thing about him but I'm not gonna get into it right now lol). Carmine's father forms a very close bond with Ogerpon as he continues to gather materials to finish the wish mask. He expresses his desire for Ogerpon to finally be able to walk among the villagers with its name cleared, and for Ogerpon to meet his only daughter. He leaves for a journey to find the last material for the mask...and never returns 😔

Carmine's grandfather has a whole complex about the wish mask, but after seeing both his father and his son dedicate so much time and care into completing it, he takes the last material, imbued with the hopes and dreams of his family, and finally finishes the mask. When he presents it to Ogerpon, Ogerpon dons the mask and its wish is granted...it becomes human :") So it becomes Kieran, basically!! Kieran's wish was to be able to say thank you to all of the generations of mask makers that had helped him, and. To be part of their family 🥺 What he doesn't know is that his wish to be human stems from the fact that he already was human, once. But he doesn't remember his life before he was reborn as a Pokemon.

So, Carmine's grandfather happily accepts Kieran and his desire, and takes him home to live with him and Carmine. Note that Kieran is probably around 5-6 at the time, so he's BABY. And Carmine is only about a year or two older. She isn't sure what to think about suddenly getting a new brother, but she's happy to have someone to boss around lmao.

And once a year, during the festival of masks, Kieran lets his facade fall and wanders around as Ogerpon again. Just to keep in touch with his roots haha

So obviously with Kieran being Ogerpon the events of the DLC will play out differently than canon. Kieran slyly compliments the ogre in front of the player and mentions that maybe it's just misunderstood. He's been trying for a while to change the villagers' minds about what happened to him and the Loyal Three all those years ago, but it hasn't been going...too well lol. So when the player shows up, and things start to shift, Kieran gets really excited bc he realizes he finally might be able to clear his name :")

Is this AU silly and dumb as hell? Yes. Does it not really make sense with canon and is full of plot holes? Yes. Am I brainrotting over it anyway? Also yes.

Take a little edit I did of Kieran's official art to fit what I had in mind for the AU ;) I wanted to draw it but I'm at work rn lmao RIP

ALSO LITTLE DOODLE OF THE BOY

ALSO bc of Ogerpon's original gender Kieran probably goes by he/they pronouns in the AU

#Listen I know this AU is stupid as hell but it means SO much to me #Shima answers questions #Pokemon #The Teal Mask #Pokemon Kieran #Pokemon Carmine #Ogerpon #Kieranpon AU #Shima's AUs #I'm brainrotting SO hard. HELP #Long post

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magewritesstories · 6 months

Note

obsessed w ur gilmore girls EVERYTHING, would love some more logan whenever ur feeling up to it 💖 (even tho im a jess girlie at heart)

[ ʟᴏɢᴀɴ ʜᴜɴᴛᴢʙᴇʀɢᴇʀ ] ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ ᴀꜱꜱɪɢɴᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ

summary: logan is in your business economics class and he absolutly does not work in class—except when you're involved of course ;) TW: none note: i'm also a jess girlie at heart, but im definitly team logan when it comes to rory lol, also i dont know what this is but i hope you enjoy it anyway.

♣ you're pretty much the only reason he even attends this class ♣ he just sits in the back and watches with interest as you participate in class discussions. ♣ if Finn and Colin notice how his seat keeps getting closer to yours every lecture they dont comment on it ♣ speaking of Finn and Colin—they're both little shits (affectionate) ♣ the kind of guys to ask you the most stupid questions, and when you ask them why they even took this class they just shrug and reply, "it sounded fun." ♣ like what about business ec sounded fun to you?? ♣ (in reality they just followed logan)

♣ when the blessed day finally arrives and you ask him if he wants to work on the group assignment together he's over the moon ♣ (he has selective observation skill and ignores the fact that the only reason you asked him was because him, colin and finn basically had you surrounded in terms of seats) ♣ he obviously agrees and you exchange numbers to meet up and work on the project

♣ now, lets get one thing straight, logan does not work ♣ if there is anyway this man can slack off and get a passing grade without doing anything he will do it ♣ but now its you and there's no way he's making a bad impression by makign you do all the work (he will tell colin and finn to make up some stupid excuse to not be there (they have an entire book on them))

♣ you get a consecutive one hour of working in before he suggests that the two of you go get coffee (more than you expected honstly) ♣ he lets you order, pretends to point to something very interesting outside and pays for the food ♣ he also has the most satisfied smirk on his face as you tell him you're gonna pay him back ♣ "suureeee~" ♣ he also memorizes the drink you'd ordered and shows up to the lecture ten mintues before time just to give it to you and make small talk before the professor starts droning on about whatever's on the agenda that day

♣ once the assignement is finished (you and logan did most of the work) you expect to go back to sitting next to him in class for half the lecture and him leaving once he's bored ♣ like it was before ♣ and that does happen. sort of. ♣ except now everytime he leaves, logan sends you a message that afternoon asking for the notes on the lectures (he just wants an excuse to draw you out of your dorm to the nearby coffee stand)

♣ eventually, after he's spent an entire month making up the most ridiculous excuses for meeting up with you ♣ claimed he didn't understand a paragraph once—he was talking about a paragraph of his human recources class (this boy has no clue which book belongs to which subject) ♣ anyway, after a month of ridiculoussness that kinda makes you smile he's succesfully become a part of your everyday life. one day he's bringing you coffee, another he's asking you to meet up with him in the library to study ♣ so now that that part of his plan is successfull he finally asks you out.

♣ when you just smile and say yes, rolling you eyes as you tell him 'it was about damn time' he thinks he's fallen in love with you just a little more.

#logan huntzberger aesthetic #logan huntzberger fanfic #logan huntzberger x reader #logan huntzberger headcanons #logan huntzberger moodboard #gilmore girls #gilmore girls x reader #gilmore girls fanfiction

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robin374 · 1 year

Note

I saw that your requests were open and I jumped into action lol

Any ideas for the Mercs and reader with an “only one bed” trope? (Love the stuff youve written btw <3)

One Bed Trope with the mercs (part 1)

I'm gonna start with Demoman because he is my husband and gets the privilege of being the first.

Demoman ❤️

He just wanted to sleep man 😭

When you two finished the assigned mission that Miss Pauling gave you two, you went to the hotel/motel (how do you call it in English?). When you entered the room the first thing you two saw was a single big bed, for two people.

You looked at Demo and he was awkwardly standing there. He couldn't believe his eye

👁️👄

"I'll sleep on the floor, don't worry Demo." "No, Y/N. I've slept in all kinds of places, I think I can handle sleeping on the floor" "And that's exactly why you are sleeping in the bed"

At the end, you two decide to sleep in the same bed. He couldn't help but feel nervous, like yeah, he has slept at the top of Edinburgh's castle. Or with some random seals at a random beach. But he's never slept with the person he's in love with.

With that said, he remembers those words his Mom told him once.

"You better get a job, Tavish!"

I could give him a good job-

I don't know why he remembered that, don't ask me.

HE'S SO WARM KSDKAODJAKL I feel like his body would be so warm, because of the amount of alcohol he consumes.

He snores a little bit. Just tiny tiny tiny tiny little bit. 🤏

Not as much as Heavy at least.

He's a heavy sleeper so good luck trying to wake him up

I feel like he would see it as an opportunity to confess his feelings. Like you two are talking while laying down in bed, and casually spits it out. By the time you realize what he said, he is already sound asleep, his back facing you.

"I'm in love with you, Y/N" "Hmm? What did you say? I didn't hear you *Scottish snoring*

Scout 🤡

HE DOES NOT HESITATE 🗣️🗣️

He knows what these situations are about and he will not let it slide so easily.

He doesn't even ask you if you are okay with sleeping with him, he just says "I'm so tired, let's sleep!" And he launches himself towards the bed.

He will pat the space next to him silently telling you to sleep too.

But then reality hits him like a rock, he is sleeping with you. He is really happy, any girl would've slapped him at tha exact moment, but you just accepted your fate.

He doesn't snore, but he does this thing that dogs do that is moving his legs as if he was running.

You better be a heavy sleeper because he talks while sleeping.

"Spy stole my chicken and now I can't eat my bullets. " "Scout are you awake?" "Fuck you Spy, I miss my chicken :("

He got so red when he woke up in the morning. You were still asleep, that's the first thing he saw after opening his eyes. He wanted to kiss you so bad.

"Good morning, toots. You've slept well?"

He's so in love with istg.

But he won't confess, he wants to keep this as a (really) good memory and confess after he's sure that you feel the same.

Scared of rejection I guess.

Engie 🤠

He's so casual about it.

He has to sleep in the same bed as his crush? Well, darn.

"It is what it is" energy.

You don't want him to sleep on the floor and he doesn't want you to sleep on the floor. Oh no, sadly we will have to sleep in the same bed :( (that's sarcasm for those confused)

"Come here, sugar, I don't bite." Unless you want me to.

He snores more than Demo sorry, it's bearable though. It's like having a horse next to you huffing and puffiing. A horse you don't mind to ride (ok I'll stop now sorry lmao)

He's like a teddy bear, he doesn't mind if you hug him. On the contrary, he will "unintentionally" pull you closer.

He would wake up in the middle of the night, because he's not used to sleeping like a normal person would do. So he will take advantage of it and admire your beautiful face. How the moonlight delicatedly lights your face, your closed eyes giving that feel of calmness... He will eventually kiss your forehead and go back to sleep.

He won't say a word about it in the morning. He will just greet you like always do in the base and get back to work.

In the inside he's screaming, dancing, running, whooping of joy. For him, it's one little step more to you being his pardner.

#tf2 x reader #tf2 #team fortress two #tf2 headcanons #tf2 engie x reader #tf2 demoman #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 demoman x reader

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milkpup · 8 months

Text

｡⋆ʚ♡ like father, like son

›› chapter 5 ›› nsfw 18+ ongoing multi-chapter fic!

previous chapter ♡ next chapter

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› toji fushiguro x reader ›› megumi fushiguro x reader ›› toji x reader x megumi (mfm) ›› 18+ f!reader ›› started: 12/6/23 : updated: 1/29/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are best friends. You've known eachother for almost your whole life. His home has become your second home. As time passes and life happens, Megumi slowly develops feelings for you, even though he's unaware of it. To complicate things further, you're now living with him and his father, who has also taken a liking to you.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, power imbalance, pseudo-incest (they both want y/n, nothing w/ eachother), dubious consent

‹𝟹 tags: good cop bad cop, fluff, smut, angst, toji has a big dick, dilf toji, toji is his own warning, toji tries to be a good parent, toji is an asshole, toji is trying okay?, daddy dom toji, daddy kink, porn with feelings, porn with plot, friends to lovers, spit / spitting, spit kink, spit as lube, breeding, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, double vaginal pen, double pen, anal, making out, making love, love triangles, praise kink, degradation, light masochism, light sadism, emotional sex, cuckolding, jealousy, jealousy kink, smoking, smoking kink, emotional manipulation, manipulation, polyamory?, father and son share you, protective megumi fushiguro, megumi needs a hug, megumi has a big dick, AGED UP CHARACTERS, dead dove: do not eat, finger sucking, large cock, cum swallowing, blow jobs, first time blow jobs, under desk blow jobs, fingerfucking, face sitting, face riding, 69, mutual masturbation, threesome mfm, lots of smut, loss of virginity

‹𝟹 notes: hi, sorry this took so long to update! i've had a lot going on lately, but i finally felt good enough to finish this chap! i tried to go for soft megumi but then eventually i couldn't help myself. sowwy x_x (im not sorry :3!) don't try so hard to imagine the positions, just go with it PLSSSS T_T LOL. for tumblr: i'm gonna start adding a section for tags. if y'all wanna be tagged in future updates on this fic or any of my stuff lmk!

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!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 5: Pink Carnations

“It’s already almost 5 in the afternoon… and there’s a storm forecasted? Why are they not home yet?” Megumi questioned as he anxiously paced back and forth in the living room. He was worried, not really about the guy who he’s supposed to call ‘father’, but about you. He would never admit it, but he counts the hours, minutes, seconds, moments even when you’re not together. He misses you but feels like he’s not allowed to miss your presence.

Yet… he does. He always does. And that’s why when he sees you come bursting through the front door, clothes soaked but laughing, he’s confused. He knows you hate getting your clothes wet, much less completely soaked through. So why are you in such a good mood? He doesn’t mind, and loves hearing your sweet laugh, but he’s confused, nonetheless. That is, until he sees Toji’s massive frame follow right behind you.

Megumi’s cheeks flare with jealousy, his face flush a crimson red. He stares right at you, loudly asking where you’ve been. He isn’t trying to be mean, but he is mad. “What took you so long in a storm like this? You know it’s dangerous to drive with streets flooded so badly like this.” He finishes, looking straight at Toji, staring daggers into him for even thinking of putting you in a dangerous situation.

“I’m a good driver. You don’t need to worry. And we took a while because we were busy.” Toji smirks slightly at the end of his sentence, moving across the foyer and setting his keys on the table.

You don’t want to feel the uncomfortable sensation of soaked clothes for any longer, so you silently slip out of the room and make your way towards the bathroom.

Toji being Toji, he’s watching every part of you until your silhouette disappears into the dimly lit hallway. He’s watching you like a predator stalks his prey. Megumi’s brows furrow as he feels anger and jealousy boiling beneath his skin. He starts walking up to his father, confronting him, “Why are you looking at her like that, and why are you spending so much time with her in general, you old bastard?” Megumi is practically in Toji’s face, eyes fierce and cheeks flared with anger.

Toji only smirks as he’s leaned against the wall, looking down at Megumi. “I mean, why wouldn’t I? She’s fucking hot, and so obedient. I would be a fool to not want her for myself.” His response almost sends Megumi into a blind rage. Megumi understands Toji most likely takes what he wants from you, sometimes aggressively, and he wants to protect you from that.

“You’re disgusting.” Megumi retorts, words laced with venom. “You make me sick.”

“You can’t deny it though. I’m right. And you know I’m right.” Toji responds before pushing off the wall and away from Megumi towards his own bathroom. Megumi rolls his eyes as Toji walks away, but somewhere deep down inside him- that he’s blind to and wouldn’t even admit to- agrees with Toji. And that’s what pisses him off the most. He feels as if he’s been thrown into a competition to “win” you, one that he is already losing at. Megumi is disgusted with himself at the idea of you being described in terms of a prize, but he also can’t resolve the fact that he wants you. It’s wrong and unfair how someone like Toji could get to you first; Toji doesn’t know you like I do. He doesn’t value you like I do. And thus, Megumi resolves to make you happy in a way no one else can.

A few days pass, and nothing really happens between anyone except sneaking glances and private thoughts.

Eventually, Megumi can’t take it anymore. He chooses a night where Toji is out working overnight “hustling’ or whatever the fuck he called it. He ordered your favorite food and went to pick it up, hoping you’d spend some time with him. Even a little bit. On the way home, he picked up a small bouquet of pink carnations- flowers that mean missing someone.

You get back home from your afternoon class shortly before Megumi pulls up in the driveway. You are just barely sitting on the couch before Megumi opens the door and enters, the sight of flowers and bags of food warming your heart. He makes his way towards the table, setting down the food, flowers still in hand, as you hastily get up and hug him.

“It smells amazing, Megs.” You say, holding him tightly. He thinks you’re talking about the food, but you’re most certainly talking about the intoxicating scent of him and his cologne. He smelled like what rainwater personified would smell like, comforting and refreshing.

“It’s gonna get cold, ___. And these are for you.” He finishes as he sheepishly hands you the flowers. You sit at the table, placing the flowers aside as Megumi looks for plates and silverware for you both.

“Thank you, Gumi.” You gently say as you’re taking containers out of bags and unpacking them. “It smells so good!! I can’t believe you remembered what kind of pasta I like.”

Megumi returns to the table, placing silverware and plates down. “You’re welcome. Of course I’d remember. How could I forget?” He’s sure he could see a faint blush creep on your cheeks, but you’re ultimately distracted by your craving for noodles. He chuckles at how you’re practically inhaling the food.

You both talk for a while about how classes have been, what stuff you’ve been watching, just mundane stuff that still shows how deeply interested he is. You know he remembers every detail, no matter how boring it may seem. He never forgets.

After finishing the wonderful food and cleaning up together, you’re both relaxing on the couch looking for something to watch together. Usually, you gravitate toward thriller or horror movies, but Megumi picks out some almost cringey – but still cute – romance anime about two people who meet at a convention for a game and fall for each other. It’s not your first choice, but it’s still cute.

Your legs are resting on Megumi’s lap, not moving as you both watch. Megumi is slow, almost cautious when he places a hand on your leg, just rubbing you. He wants to make sure any touch in general is fine as he takes his time, slowly moving up your legs and eventually reaching your thighs. You’re acutely aware of his agonizingly slow touch, but the wait almost makes it better. He’s not even watching whatever he put on, and you’re too caught in the sensations of his soft hands rubbing your inner thighs to even begin to pay attention to the show.

Megumi’s hands continue its ascent up your inner thighs, going painfully slow. He’s looking for any and all reactions he can get out of you, and the way your breath hitches as he gets closer – it drives him insane. The way you try to hide your blush across your cheeks with your arms, trying to look at anything else to save you some embarrassment…. He loves it.

His hand moves to the waistband of your shorts, tugging at them to show he wants to take them off. He hooks his fingers around the waistband and gently pulls them completely off before tossing them to the floor. Megumi’s eyes instantly lock on to your panties. “Fuck, ___... do you always get that wet?” He’s teasing you but also shocked, the underwear was soaked from just a little teasing. You must have really wanted him.

His fingers play with you, rubbing the outside of your underwear as he draws sweet moans from your mouth. He absolutely loves the taking his time, hearing every soft moan you squeak out every time he moves his finger. He pulls your panties to the side, not even bothering to take them off as his long, slender finger slips past your folds. Just as quickly as it appeared, he pulled his finger back to his mouth, tasting a bit of your slick. “You taste so good, baby. Oh my god.” He purrs as he brings another finger back to your cunt, this time pushing into you.

“Fuck, Gumi…”

He fucks you with a single finger as he expertly rearranges you on the couch, one leg hanging off with him in between. He slips another finger inside your tight hole as he brings his mouth to your cunt, flicking his tongue around your clit. The whimpers and pants you make only serve to make Megumi feel like a man starved. Eventually he slips his fingers out, much to your annoyance, and replaces it with his tongue. He’s eating you like a man having his last meal. He wastes no time in tasting every part he can reaching, fucking your cunt with his tongue. His hand creeps back up to your clit, thumb gently circling it as he continues eating you out.

He comes back up for air and inserts his fingers again, fucking you in a rhythm matching his thumb on your clit. You can feel yourself approaching that edge, the knot in your stomach tightening as Megumi stretches your cunt with just his fingers. He adds another finger, stuffing you full of his fingers as his thumb continues its assault on your clit. “You’re such a good girl for me, huh? Did you miss me, baby?”

Your eyes widen as he praises you, feeling yourself reach your limit and cum over his fingers. You make quite the mess over his arms and the couch. “I guess that’s a yes, isn’t it princess?”

He pulls his fingers out of you and reaches for the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down. There’s a noticeable small wet spot on his boxers, he was definitely hard and leaking at just teasing you. As much as he loves your mouth, he absolutely wants your already fucked out hole.

He picks you up and turns you over so you’re on your knees, hands on the back of the couch. Megumi aligns himself behind you, gently pushing his throbbing cock into your soaked hole. Your panties are still pushed to the side, creating a lewd sight Megumi hadn’t even anticipated as he watched your cunt swallow his cock.

Your upper body was pushed against the side of the couch, with your knees spread apart and ass in the air. Megumi bottomed out his cock inside your tight hole, pushing against you fully. “You’re such a good girl. Holy fuck.” Megumi wasted no time in picking up speed, developing a comfortable pace. You moan in tandem with his thrusts, turning him on even more. He wants to be gentle with you, but you were taking his dick like a bitch in heat, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

He spanks your ass as he slams his thick cock into you, and you tighten around him in response. He doesn’t realize it now, but soon will understand how masochistic you really are. He slaps your ass, creating red marks all over it to mark his presence. “You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you? You like being fucked like a whore?” He asks as he thrusts into you, hitting your g-spot. “Answer me, princess. Are you a disgusting whore?”

He gives you almost no time to respond as his hand snakes up your back, reaching your head and grabbing fistfuls of hair to pull you back with. “Yes sir, I am” You barely manage to squeak out as you feel yourself being fucked silly, close to cumming again.

“You’re what? Answer me clearly, darling.” He coos as he tugs at your hair, pulling you back against him.

“I’m a dirty whore-ah” You yelp out as he pulls on your hair. You can feel the warmth of his body on your back, as you feel another hand make its way around your neck.

“Good girl.” Megumi purrs out. He is picking up the pace now, as his grip around your neck gently tightens. He’s thrusting into you with ferocity he didn’t know existed, abusing your tight cunt.

You feel yourself getting dizzy while Megumi keeps drilling into your cunt. He releases his grip on your throat, allowing you to gasp for air as he pushes you down against the couch. His hands grip you at your waist, giving him a better holding on you to fuck you harder. He groans as he feels himself getting close.

His cock slams into your g-spot again, as he nears his edge. “I’m close, baby. Be a good girl and come with me, yeah?” You can feel his cock starting to twitch inside your cunt as he continues his relentless assault on your sensitive spot, feeling that knot snap in your belly as you tighten around his cock. The moment you cum, it sends Megumi over the edge, and you feel his warm cum filling your womb. He slips his cock out as he pulls your panties back over your cunt. “Keep this on for a while, sweetheart.” He says as you start to roll over. He leans down and kisses your forehead, while caressing your cheek.

“That was amazing, ____. You were amazing.” He praises as he sits on the couch, pulling you into an embrace as you sit on his lap. Your head rests in the crook of his neck and you can smell that familiar, fresh scent. It smells like home.

“Thank you, Gumi.”

‹𝟹 notes: i don't think there are going to be many more chaps for this fic soon. maybe 2 more at most idk. i dont rly know what i wanna do going forward, so i gotta keep it cookin in my brain for a lil more i guess lol. if y'all have suggestions i am ALWAYYYYYYS open for them! getting comments on my fic literally gives me so much serotonin u dont even understand lol

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