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asxgard · 3 months ago

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A Lesson in Firsts | alternate ending

Resident!Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x resident!f!reader

Alternate ending of A Lesson in Vulnerability, but can be read as a standalone.

Summary: A positive pregnancy test flips your life on its head. You try to take it one step at a time.

[ My Masterlist ]

Note: Expect some things inspired by this Robby and Reader! I can’t stop thinking about the possibilities lol

sorry she took awhile, she turned into something else while I was writing lol the ideas kept coming (gender was a coin toss, so don’t be upset with me)

Enjoy this monster💜she was so fun to write

Word Count: 8.2k

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content

Warnings: afab!reader, established relationship, foul language, unplanned pregnancy, medical inaccuracies, ANGST, y’all disappointing your parents, fluff, SMUT (MINORS DNI), pregnancy sex/unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), p in v, pet name (sweetheart), hospital mentions, violence at said hospital/combative patient, it’s the 90s, vague birth descriptions, I’ve never been pregnant so forgive any errors

not beta read

It was reassuring to have Michael by your side, holding you steady in his tiny bathroom as you both waited to see what your future may hold. After puking at the hospital and realizing how late you were, the next course of action was logically this: taking a pregnancy test in Michael Robinavitch’s apartment.

You were thankful he was there, but worries ate at your mind. While he had promised to stick by your side regardless of the results, you wondered how much you could believe him. That didn’t even begin to touch your worries about your residency, and to an extent, his as well. You hoped your life didn’t have to change — you hoped you could figure out your relationship with Michael on your own terms, not by something now out of your control.

“Are you ready?” He asked gently beside you.

You were not, but you nodded regardless.

You both stared down at the tests, two little pink lines on each staring back at you. All three showed positive.

You were pregnant. You nearly threw up again.

“Are you sure it’s mine?” Was out of his mouth before he could think about it.

“Do you want to keep it?” Was out of yours before you could process the question.

You both stared at each other for a long time as you silently digested his question. How on earth could he think it was someone else’s? Sure, you weren’t in an official relationship, you were in…well, you weren’t certain what you were to each other. He cared about you. You cared about him. But other than whispered words, you felt like you had no leg to stand on with whatever this was or was going to be.

“You think I’d tell you I thought I was pregnant if I didn’t know it was yours?” You whispered, irritation building. “I’ve only been sleeping with you.”

His dark brown eyes watched you like he was still thinking — and your brain was running a mile a minute. You found annoyance was the first emotion you had begun to process, wondering if his doubt was simple shock or something more. The second thing you digested was your fear for the glaring unknown future you now had to face. The third thing was sheer panic, making your knees shake.

You moved out of his tiny bathroom, the walls slowly starting to cave in on you. Would he really stay with you? Help you? Face this with you? Your chest felt tight and you had the urge to cry.

“Hey, hey,” Michael followed you, putting his hands on your arms. “We’re in this together, yeah?”

“You thought—fuck.” Tears came, blurring your vision, forcing you to blink rapidly and turn away from him.

He let out a long sigh, “I know, I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting—”

Even through your teary gaze, you found his eyes. He blinked quickly, but you caught the emotion setting in, tears building. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried, and while you could not feel him crying, a few drops of tears landed on your shoulder. You gripped him tighter.

“I’m so sorry.” You breathed out against his shoulder, trying not to hyperventilate.

Michael stilled in your arms, moving his arms from around your middle and looking at you in the eyes. His brows were drawn together, tear tracks on his cheeks. “It’s not your fault.”

“No, no. I could’ve—we might’ve—I—”

He shushed you, bringing you back into his chest.

“I don’t want to ruin your life.” You whispered. “I guess I could—”

“What? No. No. I’m not going anywhere.” He swallowed, bringing a hand to your head and holding you close. “I’m more worried I ruined your life. Your residency.”

You exhaled, all the air leaving your lungs as you thought about it. You would likely be able to finish your second year before needing to take any time, but who knew about your third year. Maybe they would let you continue without much hassle. But childcare—the money to raise a child.

You held each other for a long time, worries bleeding together, but he never let you go. Not once.

When you finally moved, your tears had dried, but the weight in your chest had not dissipated. He moved silently behind you, both of you settling in his kitchen, leaning against the countertop while he started some hot water.

You knew you both were going to have to have a deeper conversation about this — you were going to have to come up with a plan. Despite how devastated you were at the results, both of you seemed to be on the same page about keeping it. A baby.

Your baby.

—

The first OBGYN appointment came with a flood of nerves, uncertainties crashing together. Michael had been unfocused throughout your night shift together, but both of you had decided several nights before to keep your relationship as private as possible. You both taking that part step-by-step, wading through the water of your new circumstances with small, careful movements.

After the nurse took urine and blood, you ensured that your OB didn’t do any work at Big Charity — not wanting to get the two lines of your life crossed. You were relieved to find she did not.

She was cheery when she entered, subtly taking in your energies and bringing a sense of calm. No judgement crossed her face, but she did ask about your residency after reading your file.

“Well we’ll start with a pelvic exam, and then make sure there’s proper placement in the uterus with ultrasound. Then we’ll go over your medical history, alright?” Dr. Lyons said, moving to grab the machine and get the gel.

You only nodded silently at her, still having a hard time processing it all. Michael squeezed your hand, bringing you out of your head.

“Are you a resident, as well?” Dr. Lyons asked casually, squirting some gel onto your stomach.

Michael cleared his throat, “Yeah, year three.”

“Very nice, what specialty?”

“Emergency department,” He said, small smile forming. Despite the circumstances, you knew he was proud of it. “It’s how we met.”

She got the transducer ready with a hum, “That can be very stressful.” She eyed you only briefly.

“I can cope.” You told her, but after a moment, you felt like you were more trying to convince yourself. Stress and pregnancy? Bad mix.

Her smile returned, “Just keep an eye on her blood pressure, yeah?”

Michael nodded, eyes going to the screen once she started. She was unable to see much detail, and so she switched you over to a transvaginal ultrasound. It was grainy, but the unmistakable form of a fetus took center stage.

“Measuring at about 3.1cm,” Dr. Lyons said. “About seven weeks, I’d say, based on your last menstrual period.”

Michael’s grip got tighter and you looked away from the screen to peek at his face. You found tears in his eyes, and he looked like he was trying not to cry. You rubbed your thumb over his fingers.

“Let me get the doppler, hear that heart activity.” She gave you a few tissues and allowed you to scoot back up the exam table.

The sound of your baby’s heart filled the room, racing like a speeding train at 119bpm. It filled your heart up with warmth and tears leaked from your eyes.

After your exam, Dr. Lyons gave you some more information, went over her concerns with your stress levels and a few prenatals she wanted you to take. You assured her that your residency would not interfere and she sent you on your way — scheduling for another appointment in four weeks.

In the quiet of his car, Michael grabbed your hand. “We’re having a baby. We’re really having a fuckin’ baby.”

You chuckled, wiping a tear from your cheek. “We’re going to be parents.”

—

“A shotgun wedding is awfully cliche.” You said one afternoon on Michael’s couch, channel surfing. “My mom would be so disappointed.”

Michael walked into his living room with a sandwich, ham and cheese by the look of it. Your stomach grumbled, eyes trying to focus on the television as he took a seat beside you.

“I live to be a disappointment.” He said with a shrug and a smirk, biting into his sandwich.

You huffed a laugh, “Seriously though. I think we should put that thought to rest for now.”

“Oh, don’t wanna marry me now, huh?” His tone was light.

You hummed, your hormones flaring within you, suddenly souring your mood. “I don’t want you to marry me just because I’m having your baby.”

He looked over at you in surprise at your shift in mood. “Are you alright?”

You huffed, turning your eyes away from him. “What are we really even doing, Michael? We have no plan, no fucking money, loans up the ass…what? You gonna stay with me because you knocked me up?”

“What the hell has gotten into you? I thought we decided to try this out?” He placed the plate down onto the coffee table to give you his full attention.

“What the hell has gotten into me?” You scoffed, barely looking at him. “I’m trying to be realistic here.”

“It feels like you’re doubting everything I’ve been telling you.”

“Most of what you told me was in your bathroom, before we found out. You said you’d try and I still feel like we barely know each other.”

“I think I’ve made it obvious how I felt.” He said, tone low, eyes burning the side of your face.

“Oh, did you? I must’ve lost the memo.” Now you were just being mean, but you couldn’t help it. Doubts had been eating away at your mind, and you had been terrible about voicing them. A crippling flaw, it seemed.

“I don’t care about you just because you’re fucking pregnant with my baby. Jesus Christ.” He stood quickly, running a hand through his hair.

The tears came unexpectedly; you blinked once, barely registering his words and his tone, and then there they were, blurring your vision.

He stalked back into the kitchen, footfalls heavy, shoulders rigid. You watched him go.

Part of you wanted to sink into the couch and be swallowed whole. The other part of you wanted to rise to follow him. You felt stuck between both — fear and anger equally eating you alive. You moved to flee instead, avoiding both altogether.

Despite your blurry vision, you found your bag filled with extra clothes next to your purse.

He was on you in an instant, “No, no, no.” His tone was still hard, annoyance coming off him in waves. “We’re gonna sit down and talk about this like adults.”

Your eyes did not move from your hand and his on the strap of your bag, tears freefalling. One hit the top of his hand and he let out a long sigh. With his other hand, he tipped your head up so you would look at him instead of the floor.

“Come on, talk to me.” He said softly, the frustration on his face giving way to concern. “Where did this come from?”

You struggled to find your voice, though when you did, there was really no explanation. “I—” You broke down, a sob coming from your lips as you tried to look away from him again.

He brought you into a hug, bag dropping back to the floor, forgotten about. He kissed your hairline and shushed you.

It was too much. Neither of you had even told anyone yet, or discussed much more than vague details of your plan. It was still early, you both had said after your first appointment, we have time. It felt so foolish now, dancing around your problems like neither of you had learned anything in that bathroom a week ago. Like hiding your feelings was still a suitable option.

“I—I’m sorry,” you cried. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to take that out on you.”

He hummed against your hairline, “Thank you for your apology. Just breathe for me.”

You followed his advice, taking a deep breath in and then releasing it. It did little to solve the tension in your shoulders.

When you looked at him, he brushed your tears away with his thumbs. “Do you wanna sit and talk about it?”

You nodded silently and you moved back to the couch. You sat quietly for a few minutes, fiddling with your fingers.

“I’m just having my doubts, you know?” You let out a shaky breath. “Like this is still so new and I don’t know. There’s still things to figure out. I don’t want to rush this between us, but I don’t know—it’s just another uncertainty and it’s making me so anxious.”

He processed your words with pursed lips, watching you with those pretty brown eyes of his. He fully turned toward you and grabbed your hands in his.

“This won’t be easy, but I want to be by your side. I want to be in your life. I care about you and I have long before we found out.” He took a breath. “I don’t want to rush our relationship either, but I want you here. I want you to let me in.”

You met his eyes, “I want you to let me in, too.”

He smiled, “Are you busy tomorrow?”

—

The pizza place was not the intention for your first official date together, but you took one step into the place Michael had chosen and nearly thrown up. The meats cooking seemed to strike straight to your stomach, and the nausea was immediate. He had worriedly ushered you out of the nice restaurant, rubbing your back while you leaned over, hands on your knees trying to breathe.

No vomit came, thankfully, that would have been so embarrassing.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out. “That place was lovely, I swear.”

He did not take it to heart, hand not moving from your back. “Don’t sweat it.”

Hunger grumbled in your stomach, and a few store fronts down was a little pizza spot. The smell of cheese and yeast was actually a welcomed one when you stepped inside. You both looked a little overdressed for it, but you sat down after ordering a few slices without being fazed.

“Are you looking forward to your fourth year?” You asked, sipping your clear soda — Michael insisting, even after you assured him your stomach had settled.

“I am,” He nodded, “Is it weird I still feel wildly underprepared?”

You shook your head, “You? You’re the best person we’ve got in there aside from Dr. Long.”

He blushed heavily, shaking his head. “No way.”

“You should consider going for that chief resident position.” You told him with a grin, winking, “I love a man in power.”

He sputtered a laugh, “Ulterior motives? I’ll consider it.”

“You should, though, seriously. You’d be very good at it.”

“Thank you.” He said, “Are you going to tell your PD soon?”

You frowned, thinking about the program director in question. It was the logical next step regarding your residency. “I was thinking about next week? I’ll try to tell Long then too. I’m just nervous, I didn’t really look over the benefits with this sort of thing when I started.” You chuckled lightly. “Didn’t really think it would affect me.”

He smiled sheepishly, sipping his soda, “Happy accidents.”

You grinned at him, “I’d cheers to that.”

So you did, laughing and enjoying his company over greasy pizza.

When you returned to his apartment, heat had settled low in your belly. You had been spending much of your free time at his place, leaving more and more of your clothes behind — even doing a shared load of laundry.

His quick kiss once you had gotten inside had turned into something much deeper, hands roaming and clothes falling to the floor. The date you had gone on had made you feel worlds better about this whole thing working out. It was a small step, but it lifted the weight from your shoulders.

Michael had you against the wall, one hand beside your head and the other gripping your hip. You deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth and gripping his hair in both hands. His hand on your hip slipped to where you wanted him most, ghosting over your clit before settling by your slick entrance.

“You’re so wet. Fuck.”

You whined against his lips, trying to desperately pull him closer.

It wasn’t long before you were on his bed, wrapping your legs around him, kisses sloppy and his lips searing the skin of your throat. You rocked your hips up, eager for more friction and he groaned. He fumbled off you, reaching towards his nightstand.

You blinked curiously at him, pulling him back to you. “We don’t need that.”

“What?” He asked against your lips.

You giggled, moving your hips up again to feel him. “I’m already pregnant, Mike. Let me feel you.”

He moaned at your words, making you smirk. He was lost in your kiss when you moved your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance. His breath hitched before pushing in slowly.

“Jesus Christ.” He exhaled once he was fully sheathed, eyes screwed shut like he was trying to focus.

It felt like all your nerves were on fire, so much more sensitive to the feel of him, each drag of his hips. His pelvic bone and patch of hair brushing up against your clit. You whined, simultaneously already over stimulated and needing so much more.

He tried not to be too rough with you, while also trying to consider your pleasure above his. He adjusted his movements until you were responding, clinging to him, one hand gripping his back desperately, the other between your legs.

“Mike, holy shit. Michael.” You moaned against his shoulder, the band in your lower belly growing more taut by the second.

“Fuck.” He breathed against your jaw, “Let me feel you cum, come on, sweetheart.”

The tension in your belly snapped with a moan, and your pussy gripped him impossibly tight.

“I’m gonna—” He hissed.

“Please. Please. Please.” You begged, arching your back.

The warm feeling that filled you was different, but you found it felt so good. His hips stuttered, moan swallowed by your mouth, and you tightened your legs around him.

Ragged breathing filled his bedroom, and his forehead rested against yours. He peppered a few kisses to your cheeks, making you grin. He rolled off of you with a groan low in his throat when he slipped out of you, both of you unmoving for another minute.

“Well that’s a first I can get used to.”

He laughed.

—

The first people you told were your PD and the chief attending, both men, and despite the disappointment clear on Dr. Long’s face, it went over well. Dr. Long assured you that he would work with the schedule to ensure you would be able to take your leave once you gave birth — six paid weeks. Anything additional would need to be vacation time, plus a slight risk to your residency. Thankfully it all lined up enough that you would be able to start your third year without a hitch, seven weeks after your due date.

You did not mention Michael to them, but you had both discussed that he would attempt to take a few days to a week around your due date to stay with you. You knew they would likely pick up on the overlap.

The first people Michael told were his parents, who had gone quiet on the other line as he paced his kitchen. You stood still leaning against the dining table, watching it unfold.

His mother’s voice rang out like a bell on the other side, “Oh, honey, did you forget to tell us you were engaged?”

He physically deflated, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “No, mom. We’re not engaged.”

The other line was quiet for a few beats, then it was his dad, “Son, how the hell could you be so reckless? First, choosing to be a damn emergency room doctor, and now what? Got some broad knocked up?”

Michael’s jaw tensed and you looked away, guilt filling your gut.

“Don’t call her that.” His tone was hard, the serious edge to it making you look back at him.

“...some golddigger…whore…does she even know you’re not a real doctor yet? Ha!” His father was ranting in the background.

“She’s a resident, too.” Michael snapped back. “You don’t have to be proud of my decisions, but this is happening. I’m having a baby, that’s a fact. You don’t even need to stay in my life, but she is going to be, so deal with it.”

“Michael, honey, you don’t mean that—”

“No, I do. You don’t get to shittalk her, I won’t tolerate it.” His voice cracked, “I wanted you to be a part of it, but it’s clear you don’t want to be.”

“Michael—”

“If you’re going to be this fucking stupid, fine. Don’t come crying to us when—”

Michael hung up, the weight of it crushing him, tears coming. You moved quickly, taking him into your arms before his knees could buckle. He held onto you like you were a lifeline, sobs wracking his body. You were silent, rubbing circles onto his back, knowing no words would be enough.

You felt an anger brewing in your stomach over how his father had spoken to him, but he had revealed a few weeks prior that his parents had wanted him to be a surgeon. Michael said it took awhile before he got the nerve to tell his father he had chosen the ED over trauma surgery. Now you knew why.

You brought him to the couch, kissing his face and running your nails along his scalp. He curled up, resting his head in your lap, while you ran fingers through his hair. You knew he should not have to bear the weight of their disappointment, especially since he was such a good man.

Flicking on a random baseball game, you didn’t let your fingers stray from his hair.

His anger seemed quick to follow his sadness, moving to sit up, face scrunched together.

“They don’t even know you! How could he even—he has a lot of nerve—”

“Hey, hey,” you placed a careful hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going to take what he said to heart. I appreciate you standing up for me, that meant a lot.”

His eyes softened when they met yours, “You don’t deserve that.”

You nodded in agreement.

Later that night, your parents took it a bit easier, though their voices were still thick with disappointment.

“What about your residency?” Your mom asked, “How could you be so foolish? You worked so hard for this!”

“I know, I already figured it out. I’ll still start my third year on time.”

“Baby’s aren’t easy, and if you go back to work full time? What about childcare?”

It was unnerving how silent your father had been.

“There’s a daycare at the hospital, we’ve been thinking about that.”

Your mother sighed, “Well we can’t stop you. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You really did not, but you didn’t dare say that.

—

Michael’s mother warmed up roughly a month later, right around your appointment to find out the gender. She had explained that his father would come around, but hadn’t yet, but she expressed wanting to meet you. They lived all the way in California, so them coming to meet you (or you going to meet them) seemed more placating than realistic. Still, you agreed, voicing over the phone you would love to meet her.

Michael anxiously tapped on the steering wheel the entire way to your OB.

“Do you wanna bet on it?” You asked, trying to pull your own anxious mind from running wild.

“Bet on what?”

“The gender.” You said with a smile, looking over at him.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at you before looking back at the road. “What’re the stakes?”

You contemplated with a hum, “I could really go for ice cream.”

He laughed, “Ice cream?”

Shrugging, you added, “Or a beignet.”

“Not quite as high stakes as I was thinking.”

“And what were you thinking?”

“You should move in with me.”

You choked on your saliva, coughing, “Excuse me?”

It had not been long enough to consider that, even if your relationship was going well. It had only been official for a month.

“Not right now!” He said, swallowing thickly. “My lease is up in three months. Might be smart to consider a two-bedroom, you know, even if you don’t move in.”

“Oh.” You looked at the road ahead of you. “That might be too high a stakes.”

“You’re right, that was stupid.”

“No!” You objected. “No, it’s a smart thing to consider. It would be easier once they’re here to live together. But are we ready for that kind of commitment?”

“Sorry to inform you, but we’re going to have a baby together. Surprise!” His lighter tone was back, as was the smirk. “I think just about everything else is much lower stakes than that.”

“I would like to seriously consider that.” You told him quietly. “Just not over a bet.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry to spring that on you. I’ve just been thinking about it.”

You grabbed his right hand and squeezed. “I really just don’t want to fuck this up over spontaneous decisions. I’ll think about it.”

He nodded, “So higher stakes than a sweet treat, but lower than moving in together? Hm, oh! What about that craft beer festival I was telling you about?”

You barked out a laugh, “I’m not going to a craft beer festival. I can’t even drink!”

He smirked, “You’ll be a perfect DD, then! Plus, they’ll have those fancy craft sodas and music I know you like.”

“Fine!” You huffed out, trying to hide a grin. “If I win, then you’re taking me to the next stupid rom-com that comes out.”

“Pfft, I love a rom-com. Think bigger!”

You thought for a moment, “I want to go to the next Comic-Con fully dressed up as whoever I want.” While you had no strong feelings about the con either way, you knew Michael did.

He groaned, “Dressed up, too? At least you’d be able to enjoy yourself at mine!”

“What? I’m sure there’d be a panel on that comic you like so much.”

His tongue moved over his lip, his eyes narrowed at the road.

“So, do we got a deal?” You asked, eyebrow raised.

“Fine. I’ll even let you pick first.”

“Oh, what a gentleman.” You laughed. “A boy.”

“You sound confident.” He noted, turning into the parking lot.

“Call it mother’s intuition.”

The smile that came over his face made your heart stutter, sweet and soft.

“Alright, if it’s a girl then we’re going to the craft beer fest. A boy and we go to comic con.”

“Dressed up.” You added, smirking. “Oh! I also want a beignet right now, too.”

He laughed, “Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

You even shook on it.

You waited anxiously for Dr. Lyons to confirm the gender, your gaze holding steady with Michael’s. You held his hand while he rubbed circles on your knuckle with his thumb.

“A girl!” She said, turning the screen to face you both, pointing to your baby.

Your head whipped over to look at the grainy image, disbelief settling in — more so upset at the fact that you lost rather than the gender itself. It was fleeting, however, and a cozy, warm feeling replaced it.

“A girl.” You echoed, smile forming.

Michael moved from the stool he was sitting on to kiss your forehead, whispering a subtle, “I win.”

You shooed him away. “Sore winner.” You whispered back.

Dr. Lyons left a few minutes later, leaving a few prints on the counter for you and Michael to take home.

You stared at the photos, pointing to a few features you noticed. Little feet and nose. You began to wonder what she might look like — who she might take after more, or if she would be a perfect mix. Your heart swelled.

“I’ll go buy tickets this weekend.” Michael told you, a triumphant grin stretching across his face.

You scoffed, moving off the exam table to put your pants back on.

He wrapped you up in his arms, twirling you around, “We’re having a baby girl!”

You laughed, holding him tight, echoing him. When he set you back on the ground, he kissed you tenderly and your eyes grew teary.

“I may be a sore winner, but let’s go get you that beignet.”

—

Michael first told you he loved you while you were making dinner one night. It had been your first night off together in nearly a week, and you were thankful to be in his company again, craving his touch and his voice. You moved to place something in the oven and stood back up to find his eyes already on you.

He had a goofy smile on his face, making your cheeks warm. So many feelings were swirling in your stomach — and something you felt was dangerously close to love. It had been enough time to call it that, surely, but part of you worried it was mostly your hormones talking.

Until he voiced it first.

“I’m in love with you.”

Several beats of silence echoed in his kitchen as you stared at him. Emotion constricted your throat, and you blinked away the coming tears.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

He kissed you deeply, one hand holding your head while the other moved to the small of your back.

“Say it again.”

You giggled against his lips, “I’m in love you, Michael Robinavitch.”

He kissed along your jaw, “Again.”

So you told him, again and again, in every way you could until dinner was ready. He made sure you knew how much he loved you later that night.

—

At twenty-three weeks, you had a much more noticeable bump, though your scrubs hid it well. You had announced it to your co-residents weeks ago, to a weird mix of congratulations and odd looks. Your relationship with Michael was still primarily private, and you barely talked about your boyfriend while in the hospital so your pregnancy was very out of left field to all of them (which, it had been to you as well).

Michael had grown increasingly protective after you started your second trimester, moving to take the more combative patients or shoulder the more stressful cases. Part of you appreciated him, but the other part was finding it increasingly frustrating.

Dr. Long already had you parked in triage for a majority of your shift, and you definitely did not need Michael treating you with kid gloves, too. Your senior resident gave you a bit more leeway, but you could see Dr. Rivera was picking what to give you just as carefully.

After a possible DV victim had come into your care, you assessed her injuries and found she was not critical. Her husband hovered while you asked questions, answering most of them for her, which set your teeth on edge. You brought her into the back, placing her in East 3, and put her on the list to get a head CT. You moved to inform a senior attending of what you suspected, and he noted it and sent you to find the social worker.

Not long after you had, you also noted to try to talk to her while she was alone, but then an ambulance rolled in, stealing your attention. Michael was the first one to get to the patient, assessing quickly.

The patient struggled against the soft restraints, making Michael keep stepping in front of you. You were never going to learn this way.

You pushed past him, checking the man’s vitals and pupils. Likely an overdose, by the look of it, but you still wanted to run urine and blood. The man was also talking in riddles, so psych might be a good call to make, too.

Grabbing hold of Michael’s wrist after the patient was settled, you pulled him into the hallway, moving towards the staff lounge.

“I’m never going to learn if you keep preventing me from every mildly combative or stressful case that wheels in.” You told him sternly in a hushed voice.

He blinked his eyes at you, before his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m not trying—”

“No, you are.” You said. “I appreciate the concern, trust me. But I’ll never be a good doctor if I only see the easy stuff.”

He rolled his tongue over his front teeth, “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

“I know, Robby,” you said, exasperated. “Dr. Long is already benching me from a lot going on back here.”

“He’s not benching you. You’re an asset in triage.”

You wanted to scream.

A code sounded, interrupting any thought you might have had, both of you turning and running into Central 1. You figured the conversation would be shelved for another time.

The woman was older, but had gone into asystole, and despite all the best efforts of yourself and those around you, her time of death was called a half hour after that. It had left you sweaty and in need of a cold drink, so you departed to do just that.

You had no idea what had come over you when you heard shouting back in East 3, but you beelined for it. A wide eyed Maya, a nurse, exited and was calling for security. You stepped behind the curtain to see the husband arguing with another man while the woman was sobbing, begging them to stop.

“Hey! Hey!” You shouted, moving between them. Your first mistake.

Your second? Getting in range to be hit — the man’s elbow coming back and hitting you in the nose as he moved to punch the husband. You tripped backwards, turning just in time to catch yourself with your hands. You quickly noted that you had not landed on your stomach, but your nose was bleeding, dripping blood onto the tile.

Security was in the room in the next second, moving the curtain and revealing you on the floor to the hallway. You felt Michael’s eyes almost immediately. Fuck.

He was next to you within moments, hands on you while you tried to move to stand, your name on his lips. “Are you okay? Fuck!”

“Peachy,” you replied, your hand absentmindedly moving to your belly.

“She got in the way! I wasn’t trying to hit her!”

“That’s enough!” Security moved the man out of the room.

You had never seen Michael so angry, and it rattled through you, his murderous gaze following the man until he disappeared at the end of the hall. You silently followed him into an empty room across the hall and he pulled the curtain shut.

Michael assessed you silently, still clearly fuming, but you were glad he had not moved to attack the man who had accidentally hit you. His hands were gentle, moving along your cheeks to your nose until you winced.

“I’m ordering you a head CT and an ultrasound.” He said, wiping a bit of the blood from your face.

“That’s not necessary, just give me a few minutes.”

“The fuck it’s not necessary, you’re pregnant with my child. Are you kidding me?” His gentle tone had disappeared.

You blinked owlishly at him, stunned by his anger now directed at you.

“What were you thinking? Why didn’t you get security?”

“Maya was already getting them, I wanted to see what was going on.” You said, already feeling stupid.

He let out a long, annoyed sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’m going to go order those tests and get you some ice.”

You frowned as he disappeared, bringing your fingers to lightly touch your face. You moved your hand back to your belly and rubbed circles onto your skin. You had been reckless, you realized, and if you had done anything to threaten—you felt sick.

“You’re next for CT, I’m gonna do the ultrasound now. Probably smart to call your OB, so she can check you, too.” Michael said, coming back into the room with an ice pack in hand, voice switching to how he sounded with a patient.

“I’m sorry.” It was barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t thinking. I—I—”

“Hey,” he was in front of you now, touching you tenderly, gently, like you would break. “Relax. Take a deep breath.”

You did so, trying to calm your racing heart by breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth.

“I just—you and Long are keeping me from some really good cases. I didn’t want to have to sit another one out…I thought I could handle it.”

His frown was still on his lips, but he grabbed your hand and kissed along your knuckles. “You scared the shit out of me. You were just—you were on the ground and you were bleeding. Nothing else mattered, I thought—fuck. I don’t mean to be overprotective. At the end of the day, this is still the ED and things are just going to happen, but you really have to think about the situations you’re putting yourself in. I’ll back off a bit if you promise me one thing.”

You nodded, grabbing his fingers.

“Just promise me you’ll be more mindful. You’ll get security first, ask questions second. You’ll get me, or Long or Rivera, or whoever’s on if you sense something going south.”

“I promise.” And you meant it.

He nodded, kissing your forehead — not even caring to cut back the PDA, like you both had agreed to within the walls of the hospital. You were thankful he had, assured by the gestures of affection.

The doppler sounded with a steady, normal heart rate which calmed every nerve you had. A long breath left you and relief was clear on Michael’s face.

The ultrasound revealed normal movement, your baby thankfully finding their time to shine, kicking against your womb much to Michael’s amusement. He moved the transducer to touch your belly to feel for himself, and a large grin lit up his features.

It was the first time he had been able to feel her, your baby girl. He left his hand on your belly for a long time, and you put one of your hands overtop of his.

His brown eyes met yours, “She’s moving.”

You returned his smile, “She’s saying hi to her daddy.”

He nearly cried.

—

Your first apartment had come with a decent amount of stress. Your roommate had been upset when you explained you would not be renewing your lease with her, but ultimately understood. It was unfortunate that since your lease had finished first, you had to crowd Michael’s apartment with the random odds and ends from your old apartment until his lease was up the following month.

You were thankful to find something in your price range, and even more grateful to find something nice. It was a simple two-bedroom place, with enough room to breathe in, and would suit both of your needs until your residency was over.

Michael insisted on moving most of it, with the help of one of the resident’s you knew from the hospital, who was sworn to secrecy before he even came over. Michael told you he considered him to be a friend. He put you on supervising duty, dictating where each piece of furniture should go. After all the furniture was in the apartment, all that was really left to do was furnish the baby’s room.

You wanted this place to be your home, and so there was a bit of weight on your shoulders to fill it. Make it cozy, make it yours.

The furniture for the baby’s room was a bit complicated. Your style clashing with Michael’s more simplistic one. You couldn’t help it! It was your first baby, of course you want to go a little overboard with the design.

You both eventually settled on lighter woods and pastels, not necessarily having the budget for frivolous. You did go a bit overboard on clothes, but hey, pick your battles.

Folding some of her clothes sitting cross-legged on the floor, Michael was trying to put together the crib behind you. It was a fairly simple sight, watching him screw together several pieces, but it still got you all hot and bothered.

“How about Jasmine?”

Michael made a small noise, indicating a simple no. “Patricia?”

You responded as he had. “Susan?”

“Marie?”

You thought about that one, before shaking your head. “Eleanor?”

He considered it. “Ellie’s cute. I like that one.”

You smiled in victory, moving some of her clean clothes into the hand-me-down dresser.

“Eleanor Robinavitch.” You said, testing it on your tongue.

“Eleanor Robinavitch.” Michael echoed, placing his tools down to give you a kiss.

—

Your due date came too quickly. You had thoroughly been enjoying Michael’s company, just the two of you, but by your thirty-eighth week, you would have done anything to get the baby out of you. Though, true to how she had been conceived, it came as a bit of a surprise.

Michael’s shift had not yet finished, though it was close enough that you did not want to call him at the hospital. You only had to wait two hours. Besides, statistically speaking, first-time pregnancies usually had a longer laboring period as opposed to subsequent labors.

The contractions were brutal. More than you had been expecting. Those breathing exercises you learned in those classes did very little to help with the pain, but it did help you get through them.

By the time Michael stepped through the front door, you were leaning over the coffee table, finding the position to be the most helpful. He was by your side in an instant.

“Why didn’t you call?”

“Figured…I could wait…still about seven minutes apart.” You breathed out, the pain in your abdomen beginning to ease again, allowing you to take a big breath.

He kissed your forehead, “I’ll start getting everything to the car. Your bag still in the closet?”

You nodded, leaning back onto the couch and relaxing, hand on your belly.

Michael moved quickly, grabbing his bag, your bag and your baby’s bag and putting them into his car. His anxious energy made you want to stand, moving around the kitchen and bedroom like a tornado. You tried to close your eyes and rest, knowing it was not going to be much longer.

Nearly a half hour later, contractions at nearly six minutes apart but in short bursts, you wandered into the bathroom. You were overly thankful since as soon as you stepped foot onto the bathroom, your water broke. You stared down at the puddle you had made in shock, before glancing at yourself in the mirror.

This is really happening. You were about to have a baby.

After putting a towel down over top of it, you let yourself sit on the toilet. You called Michael to get you some new pants, with a sheepish smile.

“My water broke.” You explained.

He only glanced down at the towel and was off to do as you had asked.

It was not long after that that your contractions moved down to five minutes apart, lasting one minute for nearly an hour. For as level headed as Michael was around the ED, he was eager to get you to the hospital. During the drive, he had you breathe with him, in and out, even when the pain made you want to throttle him.

“Can we seahorse next time? Fuck.” You complained, leaning back in the passenger seat, gripping the door handle tighter.

“Had I the parts, absolutely.”

“I’m still blaming you.” You said through clenched teeth.

You could tell he tried not to laugh, but you were glad he wasn’t taking it to heart.

“What did we cheers to on our first date? Happy accidents?”

You did your best not to curse at him.

After eight long, excruciating hours, you were ready to push. Despite how much you had wanted to throttle him, Michael really was a trooper — he breathed with you, helped you walk around when a nurse suggested it would help, and held you upright while you leaned on him. All things considered, he was a perfect birthing partner, if not a little anxious.

He had read every book about pregnancy, wandered up to L&D at Big Charity to ask random questions, and brushed up on all the latest studies. You knew he knew what was going on and he still asked stupid questions despite it.

If you weren’t in the throes of labor, you might have laughed.

After getting your go ahead, Dr. Lyons let Michael “help”, mostly just to catch the baby. She was on your chest the next second, crying her little lungs out, which you found quite relieving.

Your eyes were blurry when they met Michael’s gaze, looking down at your daughter and whispering to her. Michael kissed your forehead.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.” He told you, and you could tell he was being earnest.

“I did just push out a baby.”

He smirked back at you, before glancing down at your daughter. He brushed a gentle finger against her cheek, smiling with an expression you had not seen before — but it was something you were experiencing, too.

When she was cleaned, you could tell some obvious features were all you, but you could pinpoint several of Michael’s features. And her eyes? In both shape and color, they were all Michael.

—

In the months that followed Eleanor’s birth, there were still so many things to still figure out. You dreaded returning to work and being away from her, but you also wanted to complete your residency more than anything.

Michael was an excellent father. Handling night feedings, while also trying to take care of you in the first few weeks, and also working. He was compartmentalizing well, but you could see it weighing on him.

You tried to pick up the slack, but postpartum was no joke. Your hormones returning to normal and the sleepless nights really took most of the wind out of your sails most days. You were grateful when Michael would get off shift to give you just a tiny break before you each went to bed, but the dynamic shifted when you returned to work.

The daycare at the hospital was truly a dream come true, with a reduced rate and easy access that made you less anxious whenever you were working. As it stood, the plan was to stay at Big Charity until your residency was done, Michael hoping for an attending position after his fourth year was completed.

You both had vaguely discussed moving out of Louisiana eventually. Perhaps closer to your parents, or to his, or somewhere different entirely. Pennsylvania or New York, perhaps. It was too far into the future to be able to focus on it.

In a rare day off for each of you, Michael convinced you to head to the park, have a picnic and enjoy the weather. Eleanor was more engaged, and was making her biggest effort to crawl. She could sit up on her own without much assistance, and your heart constricted whenever she hit a milestone. She was growing up much too fast for your liking.

The breeze felt nice on your skin, sitting on a picnic blanket under the shade of a tree. Eleanor was talking nonsense to Michael, bringing one of her toys to her mouth.

In her babbling, she said something awfully close to dada, which made your eyes go right to Michael, who was beaming.

“Was that—”

“She does not get to say dada first,” You said in a huff, but your tone was light.

He laughed, “Can you say that again, Ellie? Dada, come on, da-da.”

It warmed your heart, even if you were a bit jealous.

Lunch was simple sandwiches, and some baby food Eleanor had been more and more interested in lately. After, Eleanor settled down for a much needed nap, and you enjoyed the quiet with Michael.

“I’ve really enjoyed this last year and a half with you — it’s been some of the best moments of life.” He grabbed your hand, stealing your attention from your sleeping baby. “It has been such a privilege to raise Ellie with you, and I really could not imagine life without either of you. You mean so much to me, I love you so much.”

Your face warmed, a fuzzy feeling in your chest. “I love you, too. So much. You’re a wonderful father to Ellie, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

Your heart halted when he moved from beside you to rest on one knee.

“I know we’ve been doing things a bit backwards, but you said shotgun weddings were cliche. So would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

There was a ring box in his hand, but you did not even look at it before throwing yourself into his arms, “Yes, oh my god. Yes.”

You kissed him, holding him to your body. You knew you would not have picked any other path, knowing this was the one for you.

Michael Robinavitch was the one for you, wholly, undoubtedly, unconditionally.

[ continuation ]

All Dr. Robby Content: @cherriready @kittenhawkk @seeyalaterinnovator

Did I pick Dr. John Carter’s mother’s name? Yes, yes I did.

I feel like I could’ve kept going, but I ended up liking the stopping point. Might take these characters forward into the Pitt timeline!

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #dr robby #michael robinavitch x female reader #michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch/you #resident michael robinavitch #female reader #asxgard writes #wtf is this update #it’s subtle #but I hate it #my John Carter era is coming #I can feel it #Carter with a beard is just young robby #are you gonna look at me and tell me that I’m wrong??

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hughiecampbelle · 11 months ago

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The Boys Preference: Wearing Something Tight/Skimpy

Requested: heyy! can i request a The Boys preference where (during early relationship) they see reader in more tight fitting clothes for the very first time (reader usually wears baggy jeans and oversized shirts, but now for once wears shorts and a tight fitting tanktop or smth) tysm! - @yinorathedragontamer

A/N: Screaming I love this! As someone who loves baggy clothing, there's nothing better than showing off the ✨️goods✨️ when I feel like it lol. This was super fun to imagine! I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher is pretty shocked. Whereas you usually lean towards oversized shirts and big pants, you were dressed in something revealing, tight. You tried to look casual, secure, but underneath you were full of insecurities. You think I look stupid, you say, following his gaze up and down your body. Stupid is the last word he'd ever use. Butcher wears this wicked smile, telling you exactly what he thinks. You laugh, telling him to shut up before he's saying anything else. He loves what he sees. Because your relationship is still new, he's trying to be on his best behavior, but you know how his mind works. You throw your sweatshirt over your outfit, calling him ridiculous, laughing at him. Now that he knows what's underneath those oversized layers, he can't keep his thoughts or hands off you.

Hughie is all giggles and smiles. He hadn't realized you'd kept one of your suits from your time at The Seven. This suit, however, was different from the one you regularly wore. This was tighter, more exposing, showing off every curve and contour of your body. It was the only one you were allowed to take with you and there was a reason you rarely put it on. He wasn't used to seeing you like this. You wore big sweatshirts and wide pants. He never thought he'd be as surprised as he was when he finally saw you, but he was. Your body was. . . wow. He tries to hide his excitement, but he can't. Seeing this, you do a little spin for him, growing self-conscious. Do I look stupid? You ask. He's quick to tell you you look amazing. Because your relationship is still new, he doesn't want to sound too excited, but to him, you look amazing. He's glad he got to see you like this.

Annie wants to show you off to everyone. She knows now is not the time nor place: you've put on your old Supe suit to make a point against those in favor of Homelander. It's serious and important and dangerous given his fans would do anything to get a piece of you, anything to tear you down. But she can't help it, she can't take her eyes off you. She's never seen you in your suit before. You quit The Seven before your promo pictures could come out, after you'd been introduced. You took the suit with you. By then, you'd had a sort of a cult following, people interested in your story before you had the spotlight shown on you. It helped that you and Annie were newly together. She hadn't realized you'd kept your suit so when you showed up at Starlight House wearing it, she was speechless. She'd never seen your body like that before. She couldn't take her eyes off you.

M.M. is speechless. You got all dressed up for a date. Before this, your dates had always been casual, spur of the moment, low key. Tonight Marvin went all out for reservations at a fancy place you'd never even heard of. You figured you'd pull out your best clothes which just so happened to be a little tighter and more revealing that your typical wardrobe. He picks you up at your place, not recognizing you at first. You're self-conscious, making a joke about your appearance before anyone else has the chance. He wouldn't though. He thinks you look amazing. He was always more than a little curious as to what exactly you were hiding under big t-shirts and baggy pants, but your relationship was new and so he felt a little shy wondering. Now he was glad he had waited: you were breath taking.

Frenchie is obsessed. Mon Couer, where have you been hiding all this?! It definitely makes you laugh and a little embarrassed. He's never minded your usual clothes. He's all for oversized sweatshirts and comfort and the overall aesthetic. He thinks you look adorable in your usual clothes, but this? Wow. Just wow. You jokingly tell him to pick is jaw off the floor. You and Kimiko are going undercover as a wealthy couple. She's all dressed up and waiting for you. Not only are your clothes expensive looking, but they fit like a glove. He's never seen so much of your body. It drives him wild. You get compliments from everyone, but Frenchie, your new boyfriend, can't get enough of you. If this mission weren't so important and time sensitive, he would have spent the whole night telling you just how sexy you looked.

Kimiko has never seen this much of you all at once. Together you're going undercover. She's wearing a dress with her hair and makeup done. It makes her feel like a clown. Still, she does it because she has to. And you do, too. You lose the baggy pants and big shirts for something a lot more tight and way more revealing. The rest of The Boys have a lot to say, all of it you laugh at and tell them to shut up. Kimiko hopes it's too dark to see that she's blushing, watching you step out of the car. If she spoke she would have been speechless. Instead she plays it off cool, telling you you look great, before going in. In any chance she can get though she stares you up and down, taking you in, smiling to herself. She doesn't get distracted about anything, but you? Oh you're all she can think about.

Bonus! Homelander doesn't really think about your body, or anyone's body. It's more of a want more than anything else and it typically involves milk. Still, when you come out and show everyone your suit, he's pretty speechless. Your civilian clothes and fashion are oversized, baggy, and comfortable. He's never really seen your body before, no one has. Your PR team wanted to fix that though. You're not so sure about your suit: it leaves little to the imagination. When you step out you're embarrassed, wishing for your sweatshirt. Homelander never compliments anyone unless it's backhanded, but he really does like what he sees. It's kind of a throw away line, one that seems innocent and nonchalant, but for him it's a huge deal. He can't stop thinking about you. Even when you put on the other variations, he has final say. Everyone is too scared to say no to him. He liked the first one so you wear the first one.

Bonus! Soldier Boy is practically drooling. The moment he sees you his jaw is on the floor. He's never minded your usual fashion: baggy clothes were comfortable and cute. He would have minded had he known you were hiding *all that* beneath oversized sweatshirts/sweaters/t-shirts and baggy pants. He can't help himself (not that he ever held anything back usually) when he makes remarks and jokes and innuendos. It comes out so fast it's almost compulsive, he's barely breathing between words. The Boys think it's hilarious how much attention you're getting from him considering they've grown used to these switch ups between clothes. He practically begs you for an ounce of attention, affection, and you use it as leverage. As long as you're wearing as little as possible, Soldier Boy will do anything you want.

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lo1k-diamonds · 1 month ago

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Make It Right 💜 Part 1

Would you do anything different if you could?

PAIRING: Idol!Jungkook x (f) Reader

SUMMARY: After the last concert in Busan, Jungkook decides to stay at his parents' and make the best of that pause. He never dreamed he would have the chance to meet you again, but now that he has, he won't give up. This is his chance to make things right.

WORD COUNT: 13.6k

GENRE: Idol AU, childhood friends to lovers, reunions, angst

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: arguing, resentment, JK said stupid things as a teenager, heartache, angst, semi-public mutual masturbation, nipple play, dry humping, fingering, handjob, cum eating, reader calls Jungkook by his actual name (Jeongguk), reader has a nickname

A.N. I have so much to say!!! First, thank you so much for 1k followers 🙏💜 To think that there are one thousand people in this world who like my stories makes me very emotional, it's crazy, and I'm incredibly touched and grateful for all the positive interactions and love for my stories! A fun fact about this story is that I had the idea for it the day of the Yet To Come concert 🥲😅 Oh yes, am I late or what 🤣 It's been years and I miss them so... I think I needed to write this even more. I really like the dynamic in this fic... Try not to fall in love with JK ;) This is my entry for Bangtan Writers HQ's Second Quarter 2025 event: ‘Home Is Where The Heart Is’, and a huge thank you to @downbad4yoongi Jasz for helping me fine-tune this one 💜 Now before you reach the end, remember there will be a part 2 😇 Enjoy 💜

(Thank you @eerieedits for the cool banner 💜)

Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Part 2 >

Jungkook woke up with a groan, hugging the pillow under him. Its perfume made him smile instantly, but his toes touching the footboard made him grin.

He rolled over, instantly sensing he was just on the edge of his childhood bed. Opening his eyes, he stayed still as the daylight scarcely lit up the room and just looked around. There were toys and medals on the shelves alongside children’s books and photos of him as a baby and a kid. The small desk in the corner was just as he remembered, prepared for him to do his homework. The fact that his legs wouldn’t fit under it anymore made him chuckle and sit up.

His parents were rarely loud in the morning, even when he was a child. Still, it wasn’t every day that he crashed here with no plans to leave immediately after. Actually, he realized that this hadn’t happened in twelve years, give or take. He sighed, listening to his mother’s muffled voice as she spoke with someone outside.

His curiosity got him out of bed, taking a peek out of the window through a narrow gap between the heavy light-blue curtains. Instantly, pure delight curved his lips as he saw the neighbour in the garden. Twelve years may have passed, but nothing changed.

He found the closest pair of sweats and a t-shirt and got dressed in a flash, making his way downstairs. He could still hear his mother talking to the neighbor as he pushed the front door open quietly, hoping he’d get outside before the conversation ended.

He knew he succeeded when the neighbor gasped, “Aigoo, Jungkook! You’re so grown up!”

“Imo-nim!” He exclaimed brazenly, making his mother sigh and try to snipe him once he was out the door with slippers. “You’re visiting today?”

The woman, his mother’s age, laughed happily, bowing her head to his deep, full body bows while his mother whispered, “You’re no longer a child!”

“Nobody else calls me that!” She laughed, quickly telling his mother, “It’s fine! If not him, then who? It’s so good to see you, your mother is so happy to have her baby boy home.”

Jungkook grinned at his mother, who easily pouted, then turned to the neighbor again. “As soon as I heard you two talking, I knew I was home.”

His mother smacked his arm playfully while the neighbor, who was his mother’s lifelong best friend, laughed again.

“He is as charming as he is on TV!”

He bowed again, his smile lingering, and promptly let his mother continue their conversation about his visit.

“Oh, and I saw the concert on TV! Soooo cool,” she gave him a thumbs up as she went on about all of BTS looking so great in concert. “Putting Busan on the map for the whole country! I told your mother we’re all so proud of you! Now, on to the military, right? Tough, but an important duty.”

Jungkook’s smile held as he nodded, letting his mind wander. Not that he felt ready to go on to the military right away, especially after just announcing BTS’s hiatus.

Before he could gently tell her that, her phone rang. As her friend was distracted, his mother made sure to brush his hair out of his eyes properly.

“You just woke up? You haven’t even showered? Or ate?” Her tone and demeanor were just as sweet and caring as always. “Just so you know your father went to get more meat; can’t have you starving while you’re home. Maybe you should go back inside? We don’t want people to find out where you are.”

He quickly hugged his mom and squeezed her gently, lifting her so her feet wouldn’t touch the ground for a second. “It’s fine. I want to be here without worries for just a little bit.”

“Ahhh,” the neighbor interrupted them, putting the phone back inside her handbag. “Mimi is here to pick me up.”

“Mimi?” he asked out loud before he could help himself. He hadn’t heard that name in a long time.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she smiled. “Do you remember her?”

“Of course, I do,” he confirmed quietly.

“Come say hi, then!”

She left his mother’s garden and made her way to the main road at the end of the driveway. Jungkook was frozen for a moment, but his mother beckoned him to follow along, and finally, his feet began to move. She probably didn’t mean you, even though that was your nickname and—

It was like a dream when he saw you getting out of the car. Your face had all the telltale signs that you were forced to personally get your mother if you wanted to have any chances of leaving with her today, and the way his mother greeted you made it even more apparent.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Mimi!”

Jungkook’s stomach somersaulted. Mimi. The name he gave you because he couldn’t pronounce your name right when you were kids. And now, you were right there with long, luscious hair falling over your shoulders, and dressed in dark blue professional attire that made him wonder where you were going.

“It’s alright, Mrs Jeon. I already know the drill,” you said after you gave your cheerful mother a look. Then you bowed deeply, respectfully, and he kept waiting, anticipating the moment your eyes would meet. “We’re going to be late,” you said as you raised an eyebrow at your mother.

“Oh, come on,” your mother insisted playfully. “Don’t you want to say hi?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Jeon,” you bowed deeply by the waist again. “But we’ll be late.”

You didn’t look at him, not once. You got back inside your car, and your mother quickly followed you after apologizing for the rush, and then you were gone. Like a mirage, like a product of his wildest imagination. And he stood there in silence, watching you disappear.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” his mother commented, next to him. He nodded.

“Jungkook, stay with Mimi, okay?”

Jungkook looked up at his mom and nodded, staying next to you while she figured things out at the counter. He was so excited, he couldn’t stop grinning. The sounds of the pins being knocked down, the bowling balls rolling along, and the music made it the best birthday party ever!

He could already see most of his classmates arriving, and so could you. Yet unlike him, you pursed your lips in an angry pout.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, confused about why you’d be angry. You had given him the idea and even helped him convince his mom.

You looked at him with watery eyes, your short hair cut just above them, much like his own hair. “The whole class is here.”

“Isn’t it cool?!” He wanted to jump around and go crazy, but when he looked at you, you looked sad. “What?”

“Well… Youngsook and Seohyeon said the prettiest girl and the most handsome boy in class should date.”

His face twisted in all sorts of ways. “What?”

“They mean you,” you pointed out, teary-eyed, and he laughed.

“What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook, Mimi, come,” his mother called, reaching to grab his hand, and he impulsively started pulling her, eager to get his birthday party started as soon as possible.

Yet suddenly, his heart felt heavy. He forced himself to stay still and look beyond his mother, trying to see you, but you were looking away, out of reach.

Jungkook woke up with a start, pushing the covers away and spreading his legs to cool off as much as possible. His feet dangled from his childhood bed as he took deep breaths, annoyed that he was sweating.

His chest was suddenly filled with feelings he had long thought forgotten alongside memories he didn’t even know he was still holding on to.

He closed his eyes; he remembered that birthday party. It was an amazing celebration; he seldom had as much fun as when he turned thirteen. That was his last party in Busan before leaving for Seoul, when everything changed.

He rubbed his eyes and got up, finding a set of clothes and a bucket hat so he could go out. His phone showed him it was 00:47, but he didn’t care. He needed a bit of air, and walking around in the neighbourhood he grew up in had to be safe. He needed to believe he still had that piece of normalcy in his life.

He walked down the illuminated suburban street calmly. For the first time in over a decade, he had time. He could slow down, go down memory lane, and recall the streets he used to bike or walk almost every day. He could finally think about seeing you for the first time in over a decade.

It had to be why he was dreaming of you. Though perhaps it wasn’t the only reason. He sometimes dreamed of you when he was really stressed, and paradoxically, this time, you were the cause of his stress. Why wouldn’t you even look at him? He could understand you had lost touch, many years had gone by, and you didn’t have to be best of friends again. But still. Your moms were still the closest friends, and your families were neighbours. The least you could have done was say hi. Or let him see the recognition in your eyes after so many years.

He chuckled when he saw a familiar playground on the street corner. He strolled idly in its direction and instantly made his way to the swings. Both your moms knew a lot about their children, but he doubted that even they knew you two sneaked out after bedtime to meet there, especially during school breaks. He sat on the swing, letting the quiet night soothe him. It was the only time you had, between school and cram schools, to play a bit and talk. Jungkook didn’t remember most of it, but at least it gave his heart a fuzzy feeling.

Before he could reminisce further, he heard a quiet noise and turned on the swing to check. Everything looked empty until suddenly he heard rustling and saw someone crawling out of the nearby tunnel.

“You’re kidding,” you grumbled, getting up, and he paused.

Not only were you hiding in the place that both of you used to hide in, but you looked… different. Your hair was still over your shoulders, but now you were wearing a sweater and sweatpants, much like his, in the same black color, but a different brand. For a split second, he thought he caught your eyes, but they instantly dodged to the side. It made him miss the first beat, but not a second one.

He got up, eager to take this opportunity, and bowed as respectfully as he could at the waist. Instead of bowing back, you huffed, and the first thing he noticed when he straightened up was that you weren’t just avoiding looking at him. You didn’t want to acknowledge him.

“I’m leaving first.”

“No, wait.” He was firm, unlike when he had seen you earlier. The more this distance was confirmed between you, the more he needed to get to the bottom of it. “How are you?”

He could see the way your jawline sharpened as you said, “Are you going to take off that stupid hat?”

His fingers moved automatically, taking off the bucket hat and running through his hair. And finally, he was able to lock eyes with yours. You didn’t just look incredible, you looked breath-taking, like nothing his imagination could have made up. Your cheekbones were more defined, your lips fuller, your eyes…

He got lost for a moment until you looked away.

“How are you?” he asked again, unable to give up.

You licked your lips. “Good, and you?”

He smiled. “Good. I missed this.”

He raised his hand, meaning to include everything, the streets, the park, the quiet, the night, you… And you bristled.

“Well, then.” Your curt head nod was enough for him to know you wanted to leave, but he had to push for more.

“Wait. It’s been so long, I—I can’t help being curious. How have you been? What have you been up to?”

You shrugged slightly. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Your eyes weren’t letting him see anything, and everything about you exuded stoicism. He couldn’t help but chuckle “You’re not going to tell me? Is it a secret?”

“I can’t imagine why you’d need my credentials.”

“Credentials? I’m just curious about an old friend.”

“If you’re curious, you can ask your mom.” Your shoulders squared as you crossed your arms over your chest. “She knows about as much as mine does.”

His brow furrowed. “Well… I have asked, of course. But I want to hear from you.”

“I have nothing to tell you,” you stated, bowing curtly and spinning around to leave.

“This isn’t right,” he voiced his thoughts out loud, and didn’t even expect you to turn back to look at him, but you did. “You’re treating me worse than you would a stranger.”

You didn’t have to answer; rolling your eyes was enough.

“Why?” he asked more sternly.

“I just don’t want anything to do with you.”

“What?” He couldn’t believe his ears. “Why?”

“Because.”

His expression sombered. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Why do you think you did something?” Your arms crossed over your chest again.

“Call it a hunch.”

Jungkook didn’t imagine something like this would ever happen. He wasn’t just back home, retracing the steps of his childhood; he was reuniting with you. Facing you, confronting you, more like. His heart thumped, like it did when he was waiting to get on stage, eager but no longer restless. Like he wanted to do his best, and he was ready. And facing your harsh stare, he realized that was precisely what this was. Because one thing was to have lost you to time, another was to find out you hated him, and he didn’t even know why.

You scoffed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t see why you’d care.”

“I’m here, asking you.”

“Right, missing this. Well, then, do what you have to do and leave.”

“Is it hard seeing me or something?” He stepped forward, and you didn’t flinch.

“Pretending you care? Yeah, it’s hard!”

“Pretending? I’m not—”

You rolled your eyes again, cutting him off, “You show up here after how many years, saying you miss this?”

“It’s been twelve years since—”

“Twelve! Well, forgive me for calling you out on your bullshit. If you want to be pampered, ask literally anyone else.”

“I’m not asking to be pampered, and there's no one else here,” he pointed out, now so close to you that he could finally see the freckles on your nose. It made his stomach flutter. “Why would you doubt I miss this? You, of all people?”

Your eyes widened suddenly as though you were about to explode, but then you subsided. “Yeah, me. Of all people, I would know that it's bullshit.”

A spark of anger took over the flutters in his stomach. “How can you say that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, give me a break. Do you hear yourself? Perhaps you're so used to the sound of your voice that you forgot to think about what you're saying.” His eyes were sharp now as the anger you stirred up spread through his chest. “Maybe everyone else is so charmed by your face that you can never be wrong. Well, I'm here to tell you to your face that coming back here, pretending you give a fuck is comical at best, and hypocrisy at worst. So do what you have to do and leave.”

He could see the anger in your eyes, and he was starting to share the same feeling. And yet, it was just that. After seeing the spark in your gaze, the firmness of your belief, and finding you in your special hiding place, the way you thought he was self-centered and narcissistic didn't even bother him. Of course, he didn't want you to feel that way about him. He was eager to change your mind, but he was so happy you two were talking that he kinda just wanted to smile and hug you and ask so many questions.

He couldn’t, though. “Good,” he muttered. “Good that you're here to tell me to my face why you'd think this way.”

Your cheeks gained the lightest hue, and he licked his lip ring.

“Usually, people's words match their actions,” you said. “That's how you get them to believe you.”

“And mine don't?”

“No, they don't.”

You lowered your eyes, and he couldn’t let it end there. “How do you know?” You scoffed, and he insisted, “How would you know how I feel? Or how much I missed this place? Or how many times I came here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping, despite how packed my schedule was, just because I missed all of this.”

His heart shook with the words out of his mouth, only to be met with your angry expression. “I would have known.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you stated, sure of yourself.

“You live in this park, do you?”

You sneered, “I would have seen you. Crossed paths with you. Heard that you were in town or—”

“My mom doesn't know half the time when I'm going to visit, since I don't know it myself,” he explained. “So, unless you live here, how would you know—”

“Oh, shut up!” you snapped angrily. “You were never here and you never cared!”

“Why would you say that?!”

“Because you never once reached out!”

“Neither did you!”

“You left!” Your shout echoed in the night. “You left, so why would I?”

He didn't let himself overthink. “Because you wanted to talk to me again.”

His heart thumped at the possibility and skipped when you admitted, “Sure, I did. Did you? Did you ever want to talk to me again?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“I don't believe you.” You shook your head. “Even when I think all the way back, you were already acting distant before you left. Too busy with your own things to notice anything or anyone else. You already didn't care back then.”

He frowned. “I always cared. But it's true I had a lot going on back then. I was stressing about getting into a good school, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Your expression closed off as you nodded. Your voice was quiet, as though his admission settled it. “I'm happy you did, and that everything worked out for you.”

“Then why would you be so mad about this? I mean, I’m not thrilled about it, but it happened like it happened.”

“Oh for fucks sake, Jeongguk!” you blew up again, and he had to fist his hands at his sides not to impulsively grab you somehow. “You left! And left everything and everyone behind!”

You were finally talking, and he was so eager to hear you that he was almost leaning toward you. “Everything? What are you talking about?”

“You got into a good school in Seoul and moved, and everything was gone,” you insisted, with the strength behind your words waning. “We were the closest friends, and then suddenly you left and…” You visibly swallowed, then faced him again. “I was…” It must have been harder than you thought because you needed a second try to reveal, “I had a silly crush on you. You were my best friend. There were a lot of things I wanted us to do together. For a thirteen-year-old girl, it was all very new and at the center of everything. You didn’t care about any of it until you did, and I didn’t know how to deal with any of it, obviously. I honestly didn't even know what was happening. I thought I’d have time to bring up those things, to—” You cut yourself short. “I never had the time.”

“What things?” He got even closer, searching in your eyes. “Tell me what things.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, deflating a little bit as you stepped back. “I’m over it now.”

“You don’t sound over it.” He followed you with his eyes. “You sound angry.”

“I’m not.”

Your eyes stayed low, and he pursed his lips, unable to believe you but wary to insist.

“Well, I obviously had no idea you had a crush on me.” Saying it out loud had a smile blossoming on his face that he immediately tried to tone down. Your eyes showed vulnerability again, and he licked his lip ring before continuing, “Honestly, those sorts of feelings took a while to appear. I only realized I had a crush on you so much later.”

Your eyes hardened as you scoffed. “Why are you lying?”

“What? I’m not.” He instantly frowned.

“You are.”

“Mimi,” he called, not knowing exactly why his heart felt so heavy. “I’m not lying.”

“Wait, let me try to remember your exact words…” You mused, tapping your chin. “She’s just like a boy, with short hair and everything,” you said, looking so firmly into his eyes, he needed a moment to catch up. “I could have called her hyung and nobody would have noticed.”

His stomach instantly churned. “You— You heard me say that?”

“Yes.”

“At my mom’s BTS debut party?”

“Yes.”

“You… heard us talk?”

“Yes.”

He groaned, nervously raking his fingers through his hair to get it out of his eyes. “Is that why you left that day? And I never got to see you?” You stayed quiet, but now he knew the answer. “My mom said you were so sick you were crying, I was so worried, and it was because—”

“Worried?” you interrupted with a sneer. “You’re funny.”

“I was worried!”

“If you really were, you would have come next door to say something!”

“I had to leave the next day and thought you didn’t want to see me!”

“I went to your house, you were the one who couldn't bother to send a stupid message when you were worried that I was sick!”

“Because my mom said you never once asked about me. When your mom said you were really sick, I thought—” He groaned. “I thought you had faked it just so that you wouldn’t bother putting up with me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, and he scoffed. You insisted, “It is.”

“And you never asking about me is normal?”

“You left,” you deadpanned. “With no goodbyes and no messages, I had to hear it from my mom.”

His stomach turned. “Wait a minute.”

“Then three years later, that was what you had to say about me!”

“I was sixteen! And so stupid! My hyungs knew I had a crush before I did, and by then… I had nothing on my mind but work.”

You pursed your lips, and the way you moved away stung him. He could see that he was losing you, that everything had eroded and disintegrated much more than he thought. But he had a chance to tell you everything now and right his wrongs, and he would. No matter how much it hurt to reopen old wounds.

“When I said that, I had spent the last three years forgetting about you. I wasn't about to admit to Jimin that I still thought about you and missed you, not after working so hard to let go, and not when we were just debuting and everything was so hard.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“When I moved to Seoul, everything changed. I never had the chance to say goodbye, and it weighed on me a lot. Just a phone call all of a sudden about a school opening, and hours later, I was already there. I still remember crying in the car and my mom promising she'd talk to you.” His smile was painful as he shook his head. “But she stayed with me for a while in Seoul, so I guess she just called your mom instead. A lot was going on; it just happened too fast.”

You stood quiet, just listening as you probably matched his words with what you knew, and he kept going.

“Everything was harder than I thought it would be. I knew nobody in Seoul, but it wasn't just that. You weren't there anymore, and I never knew how overwhelming it would all be. I'd ask about you, and you were doing well, with good grades and plenty of friends. You forgot all about me when I missed you every single day.”

“That's not true.”

He couldn’t help but scoff as he teared up with the memories. “See how everything is a matter of perspective? It took me three years of working day and night to feel remotely confident. Without you, I— I had to learn to be confident and make friends without you.”

“You were always the popular one,” you said cautiously.

“Because I had you backing me up!” he affirmed, stepping closer to you. “Every time I looked to the side, you'd give me that grin, and I knew that you had me, no matter what. That nothing could go wrong.”

He could see the pain in your eyes; maybe you were starting to get it.

“You mean you were lonely?”

“For a very long time,” he confirmed.

You shook your head, unsettled. “That's crazy. If you needed me… why didn't you say something?”

“I did,” he confessed with a smile that surely revealed the ache he felt at the time. “I was under a lot of pressure not to waste that opportunity. I had no social media and trained day and night. Whenever I'd speak with my mom, she'd just tell me to work hard, that everyone was proud, and that she'd pass it on to you. Until the day I asked if you asked about me, and she said not really.”

“I didn't ask about anything!” You crossed your arms over your chest. “My best friend left without a word. How do you think I felt?”

“Lonely,” he replied, looking into your eyes. “Though probably not as much as me.”

Your lips trembled. “I… Shit, I… I was so angry that I just refused to talk about you, even when my mom or yours wanted to tell me things.” Your confession brought tears to your eyes, and it stung Jungkook’s chest. “I don’t remember how things happened at school or anything, I just remember going to school and home alone every day and… coming here to be alone until I just… I was angry. I heard your mom telling mine you had changed, but I… I refused to ask when you clearly didn’t care, so I just—”

You were holding back tears, and he just nodded, assuring you gently, “It’s okay. We were kids.”

“Then you debuted.” You managed to look at him, and he realized he couldn’t stop breathing in your presence. Your every word. “And I thought, well, at least it was for something. I wanted to support you, even though I cried a lot.”

You chuckled to hide a snifle, and he was worried. “Why did you cry?” he asked.

“I don’t know…” Your gaze wandered, thinking back. “I don’t know if I was proud or grieving. Because I felt left behind, but perhaps that was worth it, because you made it. You were on TV, being amazing, looking so cool,” your voice wavered as you wiped the tears from your cheeks. “Of course, you had to leave and go to Seoul and be amazing. A true friend wouldn’t hold you back.”

Your shoulders trembled, and you turned around to hide the tears that kept falling despite your best attempts to keep them in. You didn’t see him stepping forward or his fingers twitching. You couldn’t know how much his heart ached at learning all this.

“I missed you every day,” was all he could say.

You chuckled, but he could hear the fragility in your voice. “It’s fine. It’s good that everything turned out well.” After several sniffles, you took a deep breath and turned back to look at him. “I may have been angry, but I never wished for you to be unhappy. I’m happy your dreams came true.”

He scanned your face in silence as you handled your tears. He had so much he wanted to say about how much he missed you, but it didn’t feel right to insist. He could feel the distance between the two of you grow whenever he voiced his feelings, whether because you didn’t believe him or it hurt too much.

So he didn’t insist. “So… you are our fan, then?”

He tried a light tone and was mesmerized when you laughed. “Absolutely not!”

He smiled. “Why not?”

“I mean, at first I was,” you explained with a faint smile. “I wanted to support my friend, or, well, you know.” You were embarrassed enough that you weren’t looking at him. “Until that time when your mom wanted to celebrate your debut, and I heard you saying those things about me. I was so upset, I threw away everything BTS-related and swore I’d never look at anything related to you again.”

He groaned and rubbed his face. “All because I said something so stupid…”

You shrugged and looked away, and when he revealed his face, he licked his lip ring nervously.

“I said all manner of stupid things back then, especially about… I didn’t know how to handle my feelings,” he hurriedly explained. “I wanted to come off strong and cool. To think you had a crush on me back then… Honestly, I was so blind to it all.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “To it all? No, you weren’t.”

“What do you mean?”

You shrugged casually. “You dated Seo Soyeon before you left.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in bewilderment, as though he had no idea what you were talking about. Then, his eyebrows jumped. “Seo Soyeon? Oh my— I had forgotten all about that. They pushed for it, the class couple or whatever. I didn't care.”

“She was your first kiss.”

Your voice was small, and he shrugged with a small smile. “I didn't realize then what that meant. Now, it doesn't matter anymore, but for a while, I wished it had been different. More special.”

As he spoke, he remembered how he had revolted once he was mature enough to realize what had happened. He still remembered complaining about it to Jimin, frustrated that he had let it happen like that instead of realizing that whoever his lips touched should be memorable. Especially after Jimin asked if he had ever kissed you, since he assumed Jungkook’s best friend would have surely been his first.

“Right. You're right,” you agreed, still lost in your thoughts. “It doesn't matter anymore.”

“Who was your first?” Jungkook could have kicked himself for asking you so directly, but your answer was automatic.

“Yoon Jiryun.”

“Ahh…” Jungkook pressed his lips. He remembered the boy with the glasses who ran super fast. But he didn’t know what to do with this information now that he had it, especially since it made his stomach feel funny. “I… hope it was nice.”

You nodded. “It was nice.”

Your certainty made him smile. “You mean it wasn't in front of the whole class by sheer peer pressure?”

He saw the second it dawned on you. “That's… I'm so sorry, that must have been horrible!”

He shrugged. “It wasn't great, but hey. It was a long time ago.”

You looked at him, still with worry on your light frown, then your eyes shifted behind him. Jungkook was so focused on looking at you and appreciating that newfound connection that he didn’t expect you to step forward. His stomach instantly fluttered as he held his breath, but then you moved to the side. He saw you as you put your handbag down and sat on the swing next to the one he was on before.

“I dated him for a couple of years in high school,” you started, and Jungkook didn’t hesitate to sit on the swing next to yours. “He was very supportive of me when I was going through the worst of it.”

“You had issues in high school?”

“Who doesn't?”

“Fair.”

“He was very patient and supportive, even when he knew I was pissed about… you know.”

“What?”

“My former best friend saying stupid shit.”

“You were dating him then?” he asked instantly, surprised.

“No, a few months after that. I'm thankful for him. He made me feel pretty and special after my crush said I looked like a boy.”

He sighed. “Your crush was an idiot. A foolish idiot.”

“You can stop that now.”

“It's true,” he insisted, taking a look at you, even though you were staring ahead. It wasn’t lost on him that you just implied you still had a crush on him at sixteen. If only he had seen you that day. He sighed again. “You know, I don't remember when, but around when we graduated, my mother showed me a photo of our class, and I saw you. I was so shocked,” he breathed, remembering that moment. “You had long hair,” he chuckled, glancing at you to find your eyes this time. “In my mind, you looked and dressed the same, but at that moment, I realized we both had changed. I had my ears pierced, and you had long hair. I was happy. And sad.”

“Sad? Why?”

“Just… because. I didn't see it happen. That made me think back, which at that time I couldn't handle.” He laced his arms around the swing chains and, looking into your eyes, he knew he didn’t want to hide anything. “Everything related to before training is… clouded. I don't remember everything anymore. What I remember most are moments of us together. Like coming here to play at this hour after sneaking out.”

You smirked and looked around the park as though suddenly reminded it was probably almost two in the morning. “We were crazy.”

“Maybe. But I liked it when it was just the two of us talking about… whatever we talked about at the time.”

“I can't remember either,” you confessed, and when you looked at him, he had the most amazing desire to laugh, and you both did quietly. “I thought you would have forgotten about all of that.”

He shook his head. “Not that. It makes me who I am.”

You nodded. “I get that. What you said that one time marked me so much, I’ve never cut my hair above my chest since.”

His heart dropped as he forced his swing to stand still, unlike you, who kept a gentle sway. “I’m so sorry!” You nodded but kept your back and forth, your eyes on the floor, and he didn’t know why, but it felt like he was desperately trying to hold onto grains of sand slipping between his fingers. “I should never have said that, and your hair was beautiful back then, as it is now. I was just stupid!”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “Like you said, we were kids, and it makes us who we are.”

His expression hardened. “I meant that in a positive way. To think that what you remember most about me is something stupid and harmful I said makes me sick to my stomach.”

“It’s fine,” you repeated, still looking at the floor absentmindedly. “It was painful, but it’s in the past.”

Jungkook didn’t feel like it was okay, much less in the past. Not when he could still see the traces of pain in your eyes or feel in his gut that his fate was sealed. All you’d ever see was the sixteen-year-old boy who needed to deny his feelings because he feared the alternative would block him even more. Who, by saying whatever stupid thing that came to mind, had inflicted a wound instead of being the one who looked after you. No wonder you hated him. He hadn’t just left; he had actively made you feel less even when you meant the world to him.

“Would you do anything different if you could?”

Your voice was gentle and reflective, and he pushed away the tears. “Definitely. Miscommunications can happen at all ages, but it wouldn’t have happened like this if I had asked to talk to you directly. If we had talked, everything would have been easier for both of us. But I think it could have also been harder for you. Because the distance would always be there, and it took me way too long to figure out how much you meant to me.”

“Maybe… Well… It wasn’t meant to be. You’re right, you’re always in Seoul. We would have drifted apart anyway.”

“Maybe not… that wouldn’t happen with the right person, right?” he asked quietly.

“I’m not sure. It was different then. Our lives were different and our worlds were small. It’s all different now.”

Somehow, your words didn’t make him feel any better, even while implying that you might have been the right person for him once. Because it also implied that he had missed that window. He had missed the opportunity to have you in his life, to be with you, to be the one who made you feel pretty and special.

He sighed. “You still haven't told me what you've been up to,” he hinted, deciding a lighter topic would be best for his heart. “It's unfair, you know about me.”

He said it payfully, and you chuckled. “Who doesn't? I tried to stay away, but you're everywhere.”

“Yeah, I… get it.”

You glanced at him, and fortunately, your expression was light. “I've become an interpreter and a translator. I’m mostly connected with the tourism department of Busan, but I also consult for other institutions.”

His eyes widened. He would have never guessed.

“Your concert really gave me a lot of work,” you teased, giving him a look, and he instantly bowed.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

You bowed back. “Thank you for doing this event in Busan.”

He had to grin after a few more head bows back and forth as though they were competing for who would bow last. “You've become great at something I struggle with.”

You raised your eyebrows. “English?” He nodded and saw the surprise on your face. Yet you quickly smirked. “And you? I sing horribly.”

He grinned. “You were never easy on the ears…”

You kicked his foot, and he chuckled, his grin bigger than ever.

“But that's okay,” he assured. “I sing enough for us both.”

Your smile faltered ever so slightly, and so did his.

“What about Yoon Jiryun?” he asked, changing the subject. “Did you guys see each other after high school?”

“No, he studied computer science in Seoul and got married last year.”

“Woah!”

“Yeah, I don't know how he did it,” you voiced incredulously, and he raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I mean, getting married is expensive. The families turn the women into slaves, then they expect kids, but it's so competitive and—” You realized you were rambling. “Ah, whatever. Even dating… It's hard enough as it is.”

Jungkook was listening carefully, trying not to give away how interested he was in hearing your thoughts. “Maybe he just found the right person.”

“Yeah, I think he did,” you mused. “Did you?”

“Me? Nah. With what time?” He shook his head with a smile. “I'm taking time off now, but I want to focus on myself and my family for a bit. On my friends, too.”

You stopped your gentle swinging and eyed him. “Doesn't it get lonely?”

“It does,” he admitted, stopping his back and forth to talk while looking directly at you. “I'll tell you a secret: it's like a vice. The highs are amazing, nothing feels close. But the lows are… soul-crushing. The lowest low. The silence and the absence are deadly.”

Your brow furrowed. “But you can connect with your fans all the time.”

He shook his head firmly. “It's not healthy. Life can't be lived through a camera or a screen. Disconnecting is important. I struggled with that in the beginning, but now… I'm living every day doing my best.”

“That's good, I'm happy for you.”

Your tone was soft and your eyes sincere, and his stomach felt fuzzy again. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that break would start or even imply a chance to reconnect with you, but he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Yet as you looked away again, he licked his lip ring absentmindedly as he realized there was still one thing he didn’t know.

“Have you? Found the right person?”

You chortled openly. “Nope! I'm starting to think they don't exist, but it's fine.”

“What?! Why?”

You shrugged, too focused on scrunching up your nose while you thought of a reply to notice how agitated he had become, tapping his foot and nibbling his lip.

“I tried too long and now I think I'm just fatigued.”

His foot stopped as his voice became gentle. “What was the problem?”

“The entitlement, or the need to be controlling, or the ‘man’,” you air quoted. It was as though you had a list on the tip of your tongue. “Dating doesn't mean you can boss me around. Oh and the god-awful sex.”

He didn’t realize the way his eyes widened, but you noticed the silence and looked at him. Your features contorted to hold back laughter, but in a second, you were both laughing quietly.

“What was worse,” you laughed. “Was the men trying to convince me it's good when it's just— ah shit, just— yeah, you get it.”

The way you both laughed and were at ease talking about it made him feel like you were back to the old days when you could talk about anything. When nothing could go wrong, and he could just be himself.

He hummed thoughtfully. “Well, some of it must have been good.”

You sighed. “Sure. It can't all be bad.” You looked up at the night sky. “I guess I just remember the bad now.”

His eyes betrayed him and quickly took you in from head to toe while you weren’t looking. Then, he looked ahead as he tried to sound nonchalant and pretend he wasn’t curious or attracted to you. “I'm sure it will get better.”

You scoffed and glanced at him. “Yeah, sure.”

He could only nibble his lip ring while stifling the promises he would have made in a heartbeat if he didn’t believe that would make you slap him across the face and never speak to him again.

“Can I ask about what you meant earlier?” he asked casually. “You said there were things you wanted us to do together, but you didn’t have the time to talk to me about them.”

You glanced at him as though you could see right through his fake halo. “Stop joking.”

And he was surprised. “I'm not.”

“You're not?”

“No. I have no idea what went through your mind at the time.”

He was being sincere, yet you still gave him a look and a skeptical huff, and he fiddled with his lip ring.

“But you’re bringing it up right now,” you underlined, eying him so fearlessly his knees were weak. Thankfully, he was sitting.

“I don’t think you meant sex, but—”

“No!! Of course not!” You flustered visibly, blushing and closing your eyes with embarrassment, and he had to bite his lip not to smile widely. “Why would you say that?!”

He shrugged, although by the way you blushed and stirred, he instantly knew the answer. Teasing you was so much more fun than he remembered.

“I guess you have no way of remembering or imagining what a thirteen-year-old girl wonders about,” you acknowledged, then heaved a deep breath. “Well, I thought you were the cutest and coolest boy ever, and that it would have been perfect for our first kiss to be together. It sounds ridiculous now, but yeah.” Your eyes stayed glued to the floor. “Just dating, whatever that meant at the time. Holding hands, kissing, hugging, talking, I don't know.”

He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, yet all he could do was swallow the torrent of heat climbing up his chest. “It doesn't sound ridiculous,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “So that's what you thought at the time…”

“Yeah, it's that phase,” you commented, and for the first time, he wondered if you really felt so casually about seeing him again. “Of entering our teens and becoming adults. For some reason, I was very confident we'd do all those firsts together. Meanwhile, you thought I was a boy.”

“I never thought that!!” he countered instinctively. “I hate that I ever said that. I said whatever came to mind, but I never thought that. Short or long hair, you were always cute and feminine. When I saw that photo of you when you graduated, it hit me hard. How dainty you had become. The same face I’d recognize anywhere, but so much prettier and mature. Seeing you now, it’s one hundred times better. In-person and now as a woman, you're…”

He was finally able to breathe and realize the heat he had swallowed down had just gushed out uncontrollably.

“Not a boy?”

You had an amused spark in your eyes, and he couldn’t think. “Fuck no.”

You chuckled. “Go figure.”

Finally, he rubbed his face to hide the things that were all too clearly shown there. “I wish it had been different. It's not possible, but I wish I were able to tell you all this at the time.”

“Go back in time and call me through our moms,” you joked, kicking his foot.

“Mom,” he pretended to talk on the phone. “Can you tell Mimi's mom that Mimi looks so pretty now? Someone needs to stay by her side to make sure she's not bothered.”

“Bothered?” you laughed in disbelief, and he smirked.

“Yeah, guys probably won't leave her alone,” he continued, then got up and put his fingers to his ear, pressing a non-existent earpiece. Then, he grabbed your hand and raised his other hand protectively, shielding you from invisible enemies coming from all angles. “No, I need to protect her!” He pretended to struggle, then groaned with his palm to his stomach, raising it while trembling as if it were covered in blood. “No!” He succumbed to his knees while you laughed and shook your head, still holding his hand. “Oh no, they'll kidnap you. Nooo!”

He fell dramatically to the floor, keeping his hand tethered to yours while you laughed quietly. Although his eyes were closed, he gave your hand a slight squeeze to help him up, but you just kept laughing. So instead, he stayed put, listening to you laugh giddily. When he looked up at you from the floor, splayed like a star, he saw you smiling upside down, filling his heart. He couldn’t even describe how complete he felt at that moment.

You stood up from the swing and faced him, raising your free hand to offer help, but he gave you a small shake of his head. Instead, he moved his free arm as though welcoming you to join him. In that split second, he braced for the coldness to return to your features and wash the happiness away. But it didn’t.

You lay down next to him, resting your head on his bicep. He adjusted his arm around you, trying to increase your comfort, only to realize you snuggled up to him seamlessly. You fit in his arms so perfectly that he couldn’t help but embrace you fully.

You hid in his chest, and he let his nose draw closer to the top of your head, letting every little detail relax him. He didn’t remember ever holding you in his arms like this, and he knew he would have never forgotten if he had. To be there with you, alone, breathing you in while your legs tangled with his made him so fuzzy and happy, there was no holding back. There was nothing he wished to keep secret anymore.

“I wish we had our firsts together,” he whispered to the top of your head, and you raised your head to look up at him. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, but you’ll always be that one person.”

His heart felt heavy in his chest as you both observed each other so closely. He knew by the trajectory of your eyes that you were rediscovering his features, from the mole on his nose to the small scar on his cheek. His cheeks warmed under your attentive eyes, even as he tried to take advantage to memorize your face, from the freckles on your nose to your full lips.

But then you looked up at him as his breath caught with the sparkly stars in your eyes.

“Even now?” you whispered, and he had to try hard to remember what you were talking about.

Before he could think, his inked fingers traced your cheek. Your lashes fluttered as you looked at him, with warm cheeks and the sweetest expression that told him everything he needed to know. His eyes fell to your lips.

“Now,” he muttered, leaning in, and your eyelashes fluttered again. “Always… Just right…”

He stopped mumbling in time before his lips pressed to yours, and time stopped. His breath caught as his sole focus became that moment, with you, on the cold rubber mat of the playground, having the only first that mattered.

You took a shaky breath, pressing your palm to his chest as you moved your lips, and he waited. He preferred to follow you, graze and taste your kiss with the same cadence and pressure you used, taking only what you gave him. And it quickly became everything he thought it would be.

Your lips touched tentatively at first, carefully making sure the other wanted this, but quickly things changed. He knew it wasn’t just him free-falling and letting that incoming fever take over because he was following your lead. And you were not shy about following your instincts either.

The first kiss was a touch, the second a delicate brush, the third a firm press, the fourth the first taste, the fifth wet, and finally, it became impossible to count. He was already dizzy with what was happening, but the way you invaded his senses overcame him. He was eager to drink down every drop of your presence and attention, but he didn’t realize it would come with such force. Your kiss became searing and brazen, unapologetically punishing him for the wait, and his body reacted in a flash.

It took him seconds to ignite for you, burning with a passion that he only ever dreamed possible. And then you pulled away, and everything dawned on him—your kisses weren’t innocent. He wanted you in every way possible, and he’d likely follow you to the end of the world now that he found you again and knew exactly what you tasted like.

But you sat up and faced away from him. “I’m sorry, that was…”

“Don’t say sorry,” he croaked, sitting up behind you. He could tell you were panting; his heart was also racing. “You don’t… You didn’t like it?”

In the silence, he raised his hand to touch you but gave up, fearing invading your space. He thought all he had to do was wait, but in a second, you were getting on your knees to reach your handbag ahead, on the ground, next to the swings.

“Mimi…”

You grabbed your handbag. “Don’t call me that.”

“I’ve always called you that. I gave you that name.”

You froze, still facing away from him. “We’re not kids anymore.”

“No, we’re adults.”

You stayed quiet, but at least you weren’t moving further away. He didn’t even know how he was so calm, but he embraced it.

“So tell me,” he said quietly, hoping you’d turn around to look at him. “Was our kiss just now… weird to you?”

“No.”

His lips curved in the most endearing smile. “That’s a relief.”

You finally faced him. “But we can’t do this.”

Your eyes were big and glazed, and he focused. “Why not?”

“Because… It’s not the same.”

Your voice shook, and he frowned ever so slightly. “The same?”

“It’s not our first…”

“Who cares?!” he blurted out, but he couldn’t help himself. He saw hesitation but also so much more in your eyes that he couldn’t hold back. “Mimi, who cares who our firsts were? Do you care that much about who we’ve kissed before?”

“No!”

“No? You sure?”

“I’m sure!” you confirmed firmly. “It’s not that!”

“Then what is it?”

Your eyes met his, and he saw the moment you realized what you had just said. You admitted — insisted — that the past was not what was bothering you. He could only hope you’d be willing to tell him what the real problem was so he could help you. So he could fix it and never have to let you go.

“I thought—” Your voice wavered, so you whispered, “I thought I was over you.”

He couldn’t help a knowing smile. “Ditto.”

Did you notice you were leaning in again? Did you notice you were looking at him like nothing else existed? Or how you raised a curious yet shy hand to touch him, and he leaned forward, savoring the way you brushed his hair out of his face. When he opened his eyes again, you were much closer, and he had no qualms brushing his hand down your forearm and raising his other hand in an invitation for you to come closer.

Your handbag fell to the ground again as you took his hand, and he pulled you in. The objective was never for you to straddle him, but as soon as you did, his arm wrapped around you possessively. Anyone would have a hard time convincing him to let you go now, not when you were sitting so perfectly on his lap, looking at him like the world was that moment.

“Are we crazy?” you whispered, and his blood ran hot again.

“Maybe.”

His hands held you firmly, almost afraid of losing that moment somehow, yet there was no need to. You pushed forward, crashing your mouth to his, unabashedly picking up where you had left off. He was already not in his right mind, but the moment your tongue pushed through the seam of his lips, he felt his brakes disintegrate. There could be no inhibitions when you were pressing yourself like that to him, breathing heavy, sharing your air, taste, and visceral curiosity. It was too easy to become inebriated, relaxing while burning so intensely, it was hard to explain. It was as though he knew he’d be consumed by the desire, the lust, and the affection in his heart, all with your name so deeply rooted in him, it was more than inked, it was branded. Part of his DNA, his psyche, his soul. And to elevate it all, the way you showed him there was something inside you, too. Something that pushed you to kiss him harder, cup his cheek, and mold your bodies so closely that you ended up pushing him back until he was lying on the ground again.

As you dove into the kiss, the air dissipated from his lungs, and he surrendered completely. Kissing you and absorbing every little detail from the way you breathed or caressed his face was already enough to erase every thought that could try to interrupt that moment. But now, he felt everything. Your weight over him, the warmth, the way your chest expanded against him, letting him catch hints of your form above him. He couldn’t help the hard-on in his pants more than he could help breathing in your perfume between fevered kisses, and it was divine.

He never pushed you or pressed for anything in any way. You'd undoubtedly realize his excitement, but he trusted you not to go further than you were comfortable with. No matter how curious he was to learn and explore every detail about you, he'd gladly kiss you all night long if that was what you wanted.

But he wouldn’t push you away if you wanted more. He sighed when your hands felt the expanse of his shoulders and chest, feeling every inch of his body tingle and react under your touch. His fingers twitched on your waist, eager to feel more, but he reeled it in. One deep breath while your tongue licked against his could have easily flipped his mindset, but he was disciplined enough to stay put.

Until your fingers explored down at his sides, framing his waist until they reached your legs. Realizing your knees were pressing into his sides, you opened your legs further, and his brain turned to goo. Your weight shifted enough for you to sit straight on his hard-on while your fingers eagerly pulled his sweater so you could touch him, and he groaned into your kiss.

It was a visceral, unadulterated sound dripping with desire, and you paused. You pulled away to eye him, looking like sin incarnate with your swollen lips and blown pupils, and he licked his lips.

“Keep going,” he rasped, looking at you hungrily. “Whatever you want.”

You looked down at the hem of his sweater, crumpled in your hands, as he pulled on the fabric to reveal his lower abdomen. Dragging your hands along wasn't enough for you to break away from your hesitation, so he took them. Your eyes were locked with his as your fingers interlaced, making his heart flutter. You dropped your mouth back to his, pressing a chaste kiss, and he closed his eyes. Yes, his heart was singing, but he wanted you to keep going.

So he placed your hands on his lower stomach, instantly shuddering, and not from the night's October cold. Your fingers untangled from his, touching and feeling his warm skin, and he groaned again. This time, he didn't hold back from opening his mouth and searching to deepen your kiss, and his hands returned to your waist, squeezing it firmly.

You took everything he offered, no longer surprised when he groaned as you pressed and scratched lightly over his abs and sides. You reached his chest once, and his breath caught. He couldn’t control his reaction; his dick throbbed under you and he nibbled your lip, so eager to eat you whole he didn't even know how he was holding back. But he knew then you had to know it. You had to feel how hard he was underneath you, and yet you didn't move to the side or pull away. As if you wanted to feel his excitement pressed to you, and it was maddening.

He felt his sanity pushed further when you grabbed his hands and guided him. He held his breath as you dragged his hands to your hips before making way underneath your sweater until you placed them back on your waist, directly on your soft skin.

He could barely breathe, and you knew it. You ghosted his lips the whole time as your eyes stayed locked with his, observing his reaction. He couldn’t think, suddenly absolutely stiff and tense. If he moved and touched you, it would be like jumping off a cliff — wishing the untamed ocean would catch him while he would be completely at a loss.

“Touch me,” you whispered against his lips, and he heard it as both a command and a wish, so he did.

Your skin was so soft and warm, he wondered how it could be so perfect. Your curves instantly turned his legs to goo underneath you, so maddening they were, but something else almost made him choke.

Several times, he palmed your sides from your armpits to the hem of your sweatpants, and there was nothing but soft skin. No elastic, no other fabric, nothing but supple skin.

His eyes met yours again as you kept brushing his lips and skin without properly kissing him, as though you were waiting for something.

“Don't stop,” you whispered, nuzzling him, and he leaped.

His palms moved in, thumbs brushing the side of your chest, and your breath shook. He caressed the sensitive skin, feeling how warm and inviting it was, and as he did, you melted over him. You kissed him, then turned to the side to breathe, then pressed his lips again, then had to part them to moan softly, and by the time he realized what was happening, you were both too far gone.

You were moving over him at the cadence of his hands, and it felt too good for both of you. You rocked your hips as slowly as his hands, savoring every millimeter his fingers explored of your breasts little by little while you pressed your core to his hard cock. It was incredibly worth it to do it slowly and feel you falling apart over him, cracking his control as yours dissipated as well. The tension was so sweet and sublime, he let it develop to the last second. Brushing his fingers ever so slightly over your breasts without ever forming a hold. At least until you whimpered.

Then, he cupped your breasts in his hands and squeezed, and you moaned, grinding on his erection so perfectly, he throbbed. He did it again and again, reveling in the way you reacted and gave back to him. Until you hid in his neck to moan your pleasure, and he bit down on your exposed neck, rutting into you unapologetically.

You were just perfect. The sounds you breathed drove his sanity away, but the way you felt over him made him want to get lost in you. He was crazy, both about feeling you and driving you just as crazy, and for a moment, he thought it would work. He was teasing your nipples while groping your tits harshly, arriving at that point by the way you moaned and humped him harder with every touch in the right direction. He was listening to you attentively, so turned on by your excitement, he wondered if he could cum like this if you did.

But then you relented, stopping your hips despite the way you were moaning and breathing into his ear, messing him up.

His instincts roared, and he rolled over you, letting you stay hidden in his neck. Then he humped sharply into you to elicit that strong reaction out of you again and there it was, that sweet breathless moan in his ear. Your hands found their way to his lower back under his sweater, and the slightest push was enough to unleash him. He hid in your neck to suckle your skin while humping your core and squeezing your tits in his hands. Everything heated him unbearably, melting away any thoughts before they could form. Yet as you moaned into his ear and sank your nails into his lower back, moving with him, he pulled away to look at you. He was suddenly overwhelmed by curiosity — what did you look like at his exact moment?

His cock throbbed so painfully he had to slow down, making you whimper and open your eyes. It made it even worse, and he bit his lip to simmer down. Just seconds before, you were breathing heavily with your lips parted, shuddering underneath him. He could still feel your heart racing under his hands as your tongue peeked out to lick your lips, and he dove in.

He was fully inebriated, wholly converted, and ready to learn everything about you from A to Z. What he had learned so far was not enough; he couldn't stop now.

You tapped his back, and he let you breathe, pecking your cheek instead.

You rasped, “Everyone can see us.”

He raised his head to look at you, his heart pumping loudly. You didn't say stop, no, or that you should end it there. Your eyes showed as much desire as he felt drumming in his veins, and he kissed you hard. You wanted to be with him, and if he had somewhere to take you, he wouldn't have hesitated for a second.

He couldn’t take you to his parents' place as it stood. So he guided your legs to lock behind him. “Hang on.”

Once he was sure you could hold, he rose to his knees and crawled into the tunnel you had been hiding in earlier. When he laid you down gently, you giggled and instantly covered your mouth. He had to chuckle at the way you blushed, surprised by the echo.

“Don't you remember when we'd shout from one end to the other, pretending to be pirates and thieves?”

Your eyes crinkled. “It's a miracle we were never caught and grounded.”

He let his body fall to yours gently. “It's because there's nobody around at this hour.”

He pecked the tip of your nose, and you smiled, happily still holding onto him. It made him pause. He just looked at you, relishing that closeness and singular moment with none other than you. He couldn't see you as well, now hidden from the streetlights, but he could still distinguish the lines of your smile. You looked happy. He had to wonder if it was all a dream.

Your legs stayed laced around him, and as he felt the outlines of your body underneath him, he was reminded of just how turned on he was. His cock was so hard and swollen, and after humping you so crazily, his clothes were pressing on it uncomfortably.

He supported himself on one hand, feeling the tight tunnel frame his shoulders as he used his free hand to adjust his dick. His head was completely elsewhere, locked on how he’d touch you again under your sweater as soon as humanly possible, when he felt your hand over his.

His thoughts collapsed in on themselves as you looked up at him and followed his hand to his hard-on. His breath caught when you didn’t just feel around, but purposefully found his length.

“May I?”

His brain had to do backflips to articulate a simple, Yeah.

Worse than feeling like he was drooling all over you and unable to attach two words together was the way you looked at him. The more his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the more he saw the look on your face — of someone who knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to get it. It made him weak in the knees before your hand had the chance to grab his hard length.

You squeezed him over his sweatpants, learning the outline of his dick before moving beyond his hand and burrowing inside. He had no time to process, only to catch himself before he collapsed on top of you. He couldn’t stop a deep groan, nor the precum from spilling over your hand, but there was no hiding it, not at this stage. Not when your fingers wrapped around him and felt him from base to tip, and not just once or twice.

He opened his eyes to look at you, and you almost blew him away. You weren’t just sure you wanted to touch him; you had the most confident and sexy look on your face. Like you knew what you were doing to him and wanted exactly that to happen. Like you intended for his toes to curl as he stopped himself from rutting into your hand and kissing you desperately as he spilled all over you.

He had given up on stifling his groans or heavy breathing; the way you seemed to delightedly observe every reaction only made him more beside himself. He wanted you to look at him and want him as crazily as he wanted you, but he also didn’t want to cum in two minutes.

His eyes flickered down to your stomach, and you whispered, “You can pull it up.”

He met your eyes and supported himself on both his hands, pressing his thumbs to distract himself from your hand jerking him off steadily and perfectly. “No,” he muttered, then tried again. “I don’t want you to be cold.”

You definitely knew what you were doing when you used your free hand to pull your sweater so far up on one side that your breast showed. It was enough for him to groan and almost try to escape your hand, because it was too good. You felt too good and looked too perfect, and his instinct won again. In a split second, he wasn’t just looking at the outline of your chest, trying to learn all the details in the dark, but diving in with his mouth latching onto a nipple he had teased relentlessly before.

You threw your head back and moaned, and his hand darted to stop yours. You couldn’t have known how close he was to blowing, especially as he didn’t relent from licking and nibbling on your perked nipple. He couldn’t help himself, especially when you grabbed his hair and moaned softly like that.

The moment you moaned his name, his eyes closed as he felt it in his entire body. He’d never forget that sound.

“Can you multitask?”

He opened his eyes, so utterly dazed he couldn’t have heard you. “What?”

“Can you touch me, too?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him, and he realized what you meant.

Your legs had loosened their hold around him, but were still open under him, molding to him in the perfect position for him to sink deeply into you.

He shook those thoughts away. “If you let me, I’d love to.”

You were quick to make space for him beside you while he tried to wrap his head around what was happening. He used to think it was unlikely that he’d ever meet you again. But now, not only were you kissing, but you were touching each other in ways that crossed lines like they were meant to be erased. Asserting what he instinctively knew but was never able to act upon.

He lay next to you, noticing how you adjusted to still be comfortable while you held onto his dick. Not that you had let it go, but at least you seemed okay with waiting for him to be comfortable before you restarted your strokes.

But first, he needed to touch you and brace himself for it. This was such an important moment that his heart started racing inside his chest. Not just because you were letting him touch you, but because of everything it meant. You trusted him, you wanted him, you had expectations that he could make you feel good, and suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to do exactly that while stressing like hell that he’d do everything wrong.

His hand moved in the dark, trembling, to find you, and it did. Your legs opened further as his palm settled on your inner thigh, firm and warm, and he opened his eyes. Instantly, he knew he was fucked and blessed. The streetlights somehow managed to shine on you, giving him a view he had only ever dared to dream of — you, lying next to him, with your sweater raised, exposing one side of you, stomach to breast, while one of your legs was open with his inked hand resting on it.

He was probably drooling, and once his eyes met yours, he guessed you knew.

“Please,” you breathed, and the back of his neck burned. Your eyes were hungry as you moved your hips ever so slightly, and he didn’t want to keep you waiting.

Still, his hand darted to your nipple first, pinching it softly. His dick throbbed in your hand as you moaned, and one glance was enough to know his next step. He brushed his fingers gently down your chest to your stomach on a sure path to where you wanted him, and in a second, his hand slipped inside your pants.

His eyes focused on you as your wetness guided him, and although he tried not to be rough, his fingers slipped. You instantly gasped and let your head fall back, and his curiosity became untamable. His fingers brushed up and down along your folds, a feather touch opposed to the first contact with your sensitive clit, but you enjoyed it. You squirmed ever so slightly, giving him even more space to touch you however he pleased, and he did.

He took in the way his hand disappeared inside your pants in the same way yours disappeared inside his, both stroking at a slow, exploratory rhythm. While you kept a firm, steady hand from head to base, almost as if not to distract him, he kept focused on your little eyelash flutters and gasps as he discovered every inch of you.

Despite your quiet whimpers, he retreated to your thighs, determined not to leave a single stone unturned. Only when your hand around his dick became impatient did he move back up and touched your slit again, having to close his eyes with how much wetter you were, if that was even possible.

Your whimpering moans caught him by surprise, and as you breathed heavily, he focused. You weren’t a dream or a fantasy; you were so very real, and he wanted you to enjoy every second with him.

“Tell me how,” he asked gently, grazing over your clit without staying there.

“You don’t know?” You were breathlessly surprised, and he chuckled.

“I don't know how you like it.”

You matched his smile as your hand slowed down around his length. He took that as a positive reaction — you wanted this to last, and so did he.

You bit your lip and turned your face closer to his, whispering, “Can you do it slowly in big circles?”

He instantly changed his touch to match your request, and your reaction was almost instantaneous. Your hips moved against his fingers, and in seconds, you were biting your lip, stifling your moans. He found it curious that you reacted so strongly to such a simple touch, but he knew it was more than that. Your hips were adding to the feeling, not to mention you had to be turned on by his hard dick in your hand. Being half-naked in a public playground might have also contributed, though he wasn’t thinking about any of those details right now. For him, what mattered was how much wetter you were, trying not to squirm under his touch.

“A bit harder,” you breathed, looking at him, and he nibbled his lip ring.

He did as you asked, pressing more firmly, noticing how he wouldn’t touch your clit directly unless when you wanted him to, and you controlled this by moving your hips. He was getting you off under your rules and by the way you were breathing and pumping his cock, he knew you were almost there. He himself would have been cumming soon if not for the fact that he wanted to learn every single detail about you while you felt like this.

Your chest heaved harder as your hand slid alongside his length perfectly, yet your eyes closed as you tried to hide. You turned your face down, bringing it closer to him. He pecked your forehead as you squirmed under his hand, stifling your moans, until you seemed to change your mind. You pressed your lips feverishly to his and he had to redouble his effort to not change the rhythm for you, sliding perfectly around your wet entrance and brushing your clit just like you liked it, again and again, until you gasped.

Your back arched violently, breaking apart your kiss, and letting him see everything as you climaxed. How you moaned softly, letting it echo around you two, as you trembled. Your hips slowed down, and so did his fingers, able to feel your clenching hole enticing the hard dick still in your hand that you were squeezing hard. Fortunately, not hard enough to hurt, but surely enough for you to know how ready he was to feel you closely. Not that he would, but not that he could help thinking about it now that he could imagine how you’d feel cumming around him.

Your whole body relaxed next to him as your hand lost its strength, and he understood. All the sexual tension was gone for you. He brought his lips to your forehead, pecking you as his hand slipped from your pants, hoping you wouldn’t feel pressured to continue. Because if it were up to him, he’d be begging for more, but he hoped you were comfortable enough to do as you pleased.

You raised your head to meet his lips in a languid kiss, and that intimacy swayed him. He was ready to kiss you until the sun dawned, but you were quick to wrap your fingers firmly around him again, and with a renewed intent this time.

He opened his eyes, meaning to pull away and ask you if you really wanted to continue, but your gaze made his breath catch. You didn’t want to just get him off; you were in charge of the way his pleasure developed, and it brought him straight back to the thick of it.

You were very close to each other, but no longer kissing, so he did something out of instinct — he brought his fingers, still covered in your slick, to his mouth. A small part of him feared he’d weird you out, but somehow he knew you were on the same wavelength.

He groaned with your taste, throbbing in your hand, turned on beyond belief, and your reaction was to pull his hand away and dive in tongue first into his mouth. You both moaned into the kiss, and Jungkook was so beside himself, he didn’t last a minute with you assaulting his mouth like that. It was too much on top of your hand squeezing around the tip of his cock, edging him for all the precum he possibly he had.

He had to break your kiss apart. You were perfect for him, but— “I’ll cum.”

You smirked. “I hope so, I want to taste you, too.”

Every word sparked him, and looking into your eyes, he was certain you had thought of him before. At least once. In all those years, you had thought of doing this with him before, and it was the straw that broke the camel's back. He wrapped his hand around yours, squeezing your fingers into a fist, and spilled.

Instantly, warm spurts of cum had nowhere to go but to drip in between your fingers, but you didn’t shy away. You pumped him for all he was worth, making him groan and squirm as he held you while you emptied him.

As soon as he was spent, his first instinct was to search for your kiss. Not consuming, not searing, just calming and soothing like the sigh that escaped his lips. Then, he let go of your hand and fell back, ready to bask in that peace when he noticed out the corner of his eye that you took your hand still dripping with his cum to your mouth and licked it.

You closed your eyes, savoring it, and he groaned, so euphoric at that moment, he couldn’t describe it. He rose from the ground to kiss you again, temporarily overriding that newfound peace with his inextinguishable desire for you, until you squirmed and chuckled.

His cum was dripping down your wrist into your sweater and you quickly pulled on your sleeve. “Wait.”

You crawled back out of the tunnel to reach your handbag, and he lay back, relaxedly, letting what just happened wash over him. You two together felt amazing, and it was no longer a fantasy or a dream of his teenage years. He didn’t have to imagine that the two of you would work out together; you just did.

You sat down at the entrance of the tunnel next to his knees and passed him a tissue so he could clean his hand, which he did absentmindedly as he waited for you to join him again. He didn’t know what the future held, but he’d start by holding you and go from there.

Except you weren’t back yet, so he looked at his feet again. He could see your calves, immediately noticing that you were standing at the tunnel entrance with your handbag nowhere in sight.

“Mimi?”

“I need to go.”

You instantly rushed away out of sight, and he sat up instinctively, hitting his head so hard that the whole plastic tunnel resonated. He rubbed his head as he tried to crawl outside, and when he finally managed to stand up, you were nowhere in sight.

He quickly shook off the dizziness and ran back to where both your parents lived. He didn’t understand why you would just leave like that, but above all things, he didn’t want any misunderstandings.

When he got on the right street, he ran through your mother’s garden all the way to the front door and raised his hand, but stopped before he knocked. If he did, he’d wake up your parents, and that would create more problems.

So he nibbled on his lip ring and walked away, throwing your parents’ place a couple of glances before making his way to his parents’. You were safe there, and he knew just where to find you in the morning.

Next Part >

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zepskies · 14 days ago

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hiii lovely, I hope you’re doing well 💙 i’m on the verge of sleep lol, but I have a fun question for youu :) in your opinion which jackles character likes to say “my wife” the most? 😗 (I mean i’m sure they’d all be down bad for their spouse lmao, but who do you think takes the cake? 🤣)

sidenote; I hope everything is going good for you !! If I remember correctly you had a lot goin on lately, I hope everything is settling smoothly <33

Hey, friend!! Sorry it's taken me a while to answer. I just started a new job this week, so my brain is all over the place. 🤪 (Thank you for asking! 💕) But I loooove this question lol. Let's say we're talking about the Big Four - Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy, and Russell Shaw.

HEADCANON: Who says "my wife" the most?

Yeah I feel like if they all got to the point of letting someone in that deep, all of them would be down bad for their girl lol. But I feel like it would go something like this:

Dean Winchester + Soldier Boy (Ben): Protective 👿

Not to say that Beau and Russell aren't protective bois too, but I feel like Dean and Ben are more likely to "say it" in that gut punch situation where they're about to tear someone a new orifice.

"Fuck off, asshole. That's my wife."

"That's my wife. Show her some fucking respect, before I break every limp-dick fucking bone in your body."

Beau Arlen + Russell Shaw: Playful 😘

I think Beau and Russ are more likely to "say it" more often, but in that playful, endearing, flirty teasing way.

"How's my lovely wife doing on this beautiful evening?" He wraps you up in his arms, fully knowing how late he is and trying to lighten up your glare. "Waiting three hours for her husband to get off work so we can actually make it to our anniversary dinner," you snip. "I managed to rechedule the reservation, but we've gotta move quick if we're going to make it in half an hour." He butters you up in any way possible, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek. "That's why I love you. You always think ahead." Rolling your eyes, but still smiling, you grab ahold of his tie. "All right, cowboy. Let's go."

"Ooh, I can't be seen with the likes of you, sweetheart. My wife would kill me." Cue a mischievous smirk. You shake your head in amusement. God. This man. You still let him slip his arms around your waist and pull you in close, so he can trail his lips up your neck, inhaling the alluring scent of your perfume. You giggle breathlessly. This is one of his favorite little games. The gold band on the ring finger of your left hand matching the one on his calls his bluff though. "She doesn't have to know," you purr. Your lips are just shy of a whisper near his ear. "This can be our little secret."

AN: @wvffles I hope this answers your question! 😘💓

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lovetei · 2 months ago

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Hello! I love your writing! Are the requests open? If yes, could you do the headcanon MC/reader married life with Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon? (these four are my biases) Thank you! 😘💜

Yey!! I'm answering requests again let's go!!

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Married life with them, how does it go?

Versions: Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon

Warnings: Grammar errors, spelling errors, no proofreading, readers gender is not specified

Links: Masterlist, Rules

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LUCIFER

People know you as 'THE SPOUSE' because whenever he's about to blow up, you will be there to stop him

Your relationship is the type where Lucifer will put you to sleep first then secretly wake up to do his work

Then he will be hit by a flying slipper

Then he'll look to his side and saw you sitting up on the bed

Brows twitching out of annoyance and eyebags under your eyes

You HAVE to be fierce at times

Lucifer is known to be under Diavolo's control most of the time, he works for him.

So, there are quiet a few restrictions on his actions.

He could be fucking popping a nerve and will still not be able to fight back because he has to keep up Diavolo's reputation good.

So you do it for him.

One time, someone gave a rude comment to Lucifer

Imagine being rude to Lucifer bruh

And that person was in a quiet important position

So of course, he has to laugh it of like "Ha.Ha.Ha.Ha."

And que MC suddenly clearing her throat giving the most fake laugh while wide eyed staring at the man like "HA HA HA HA HA" with the most fake smile

Yeah

He's the type to ignore murder but draw the line at disrespecting his spouse

And you're the type to look at him while eating and think "Look at my man, ain't no way he's a murderer."

He is.

If Lucifer will SOMEHOW be charged of murder, which he really committed, MC would hold up a large sign outsid the prison, if it hasn't burned yet, with the words "FREE MY MAN"

To be honest, his whole thoughts on you just revolves around "Baby, you're freaky and strange. It's freaking me out." but continues watching and supporting you anyways.

You're just messing with him

Like, let the man have a break

You're the type of spouse to make a jerking hips movement while he's lecturing you tbh

DIAVOLO

So fun

Just shits and giggles

You don't argue, you bashes his head on concrete and he takes like a man with a smile

One time, he saw you struggling with gardening and he went outside to mess with you.

He asked, "Is this guy bothering you?" and pointed at the soil

You looked at him confused but nodded

Then he started punching the soil

He refuses to do extra paperwork now because he believes you're like those dog like

You know

Those dogs that know when their owner is coming home

And he believes that if he doesn't come home on time

You'll start howling like a pug on anesthesia

Yeah

And your vibes to him is like

"You poor thing." (Deregatory) (Sexual)

But you're his dream spouse

When he was a child, he likes those spouse that protects their BIGGER spouse

And he said "I like my spouse scary. Maybe I'll marry someone like them and they'll kill everyone who's ever said a bad thing about me."

He did marry one

You guys are a power couple though

You would attend the parties on matching clothes, especially tailored for the two of you

And he would be smiling like a puppy and you would be beside him glaring at whoever tries to be rude to him

But YOU know that HE knows who's naughty and nice

He'll deal with them when you're asleep

BARBATOS

"Yes, Baby. Your emotional wall is high and impenetrable. Can we kiss now?" — MC

It's just like that

I don't make the rules

Yeah, he's calm and collected

He's so stressed with you, everytime.

You're the menace and he's the leash

After using your magic, you would be leaning sexily on a wall in front of him

Coughing out BLOOD

Saying, "How do I look? Do I look good?" *Cough* "Was that hot?"

It wasn't.

He stands with his canceled spouse

If everyone else is standing in front of his door, bloodied and bruise

He'll open his door IF and ONLY IF you're the one who knocked, or Diavolo

Then he'll open it

Grab you

Close the door

Open it again

Grad Diavolo

And let the rest of them bleed to death

He just loves you so much

Sometimes... ONLY SOMETIMES

When you tripped on the stairs and a lot of people saw it

He'll turn back time

ONLY SOMETIMES

Maybe not so sometimes

And by the way

If he has to move to another timeline

He will marry you

Over and over again

SIMEON

If you think you can bat your eyelashes at him and get whatever you want

Yes

Yes you can

He's so soft for you it's insane

It's so hot how his ring would shine when the slightest bit of life bounces of it

How it's cold metal would hit your skin when he cups your face and kisses you

How he absent mindedly fidget with it when he saw anything that reminded him of you

He's so soft

Like a cushion

Ready to catch you everytime you fall

He's also kind of clingy

But

Yeah, clingy

Everytime he wakes up and you're not there

He let's out the MOST dramatic sigh and think "The world is quiet cruel."

Chill, MC's in the kitchen making you guys food

But if you're indeed not there

He takes his suffering out on his book characters

Sexy evil bad bitch × quiet shy Boi (that can be a psycho)

He's a 10 but he doesn't mind that you're crazy so he's a 20

If you ask him the "What would you do if I turned into a worm?"

He'll answer the softest shit, "I'll build you a worm sanctuary, and take care of you."

Of course, after he said that you'll look up to the sky and thank father for his magic seed or whatever

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stagefoureddiediaz · 3 months ago

Note

Thoughts on the “E”?!

Hey Nonnie

Oh I have many thoughts on the ‘E’ on the bomber jacket!! @lover-of-mine and I have been talking about it and doing some research to find out when it first appeared and if anyone else has letters on their jackets.

I can confirm that no one else appears to have a letter on their jackets, so this is a Buck exclusive thing. That in and of itself is important and revealing - it means it’s intentional and relevant in some way.

As you can see above - nothing on Bobby or Hens jackets in this up coming episode.

As for its first appearing - well - the bomber jackets have been part of the uniform since the crossover episode with Lonestar - back at the beginning of season 4. There is no ‘E’ on the jacket we see buck in during that episode. I’ve messed around with the brightness to make it easier to see on most of these screen grabs, so ignore the slightly weird colouring!

After that - we see the bomber a couple of times in season 4 and it bears no ‘E’ - this is a still from 411!

The same in season 5 - the bomber appears a few times and there’s never an ’E’ present on the sleeve, this is a still from 511.

It’s the same through season 6 - the bomber is worn but there is no ‘E’.

Then we get to season 7 and things start to get interesting! Below is a still from 701 - no ‘E’ is on his sleeve here.

But when we get to 704 - oh hi there ‘E’ you’ve decided to appear - in a scene that kickstarts Bucks bi arc, and from then on - the ‘E’ is present on bucks jacket sleeve!

Right up to the next episode!

As for what the ‘E’ means and the significance of its connection into Bucks bi arc. Well I have a couple of theories.

The fact that no one else has a letter on their sleeve means it’s not about his name - so it’s not meant to represent Evan in any way - if it was I would expect a ‘H’ on Hens and on Chim’s, and an ‘R’ on Bobbys and Ravi’s and to have seen an E on Eddie’s (I’ve just realised that we have two names for each letter as I typed this out - which is very fun!)

So that leaves us with it having a different meaning. Buck as a character is someone who tends to wear his heart on his sleeve and so it’s a fair thing to come to the conclusion that it’s connected to that idea of his heart being on his sleeve. It’s also his left arm - which is important in connection with the red string of fate which is supposed to run from your heart down your left arm and connect to your lover or family etc through your left hand.

So buck having an ‘E’ there can only really mean one thing - Eddie. There’s literally no one else it could conceivably be linked to. So in my opinion (and if that makes me a clown then I am a clown and I’m prepared to die on this hill) it’s been put there at the start of 704 to very subtly inform the audience that Buck is misunderstanding the assignment yet again and misdirecting his feelings for Eddie onto Tommy. It’s a way of telling the audience that we are correct in our opinion that it’s all about Eddie and not about Tommy at all.

Nothing else makes sense to me, it can’t be an allergy information thing, it’s not a brand thing or everyone would have an ‘E’. I guess there’s a vague possibility that is signalling where emergency information is located for Buck, but that seems very unlikely.

So in summary it’s metaphorically buck wearing his heart on his sleeve and his heart is Eddie shaped! I also expect that him wearing a jacket on the job with this ‘E’ on in this episode is very intentional - playing into bucks sense of loss over Eddie leaving and his heartbreak - even if he can’t recognise it for what it is.

I’d love to hear if anyone else has any theories on its appearance and meaning m, and there is plenty of room in the clown car if anyone wants to join Anna and I in this theory🤓💜💜

#kym answers things #Nonnie asks #911 spoilers #911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #costume things #911 costume meta #911 costumes #911 uniforms

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7ndipity · 1 year ago

Text

Dating A Foreign Partner

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How the members would handle being in a relationship with a foreign S/o.

Warnings: brief mentions of racial/cultural discrimination,

A/N: Thank you to @bethanysnow for requesting this, I hope you like it!😘💜 I tried to keep these a bit lighter, but if there’s something more specific that any of you would like to see, lmk!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

Sounds cliche, but I think he would really enjoy trying foods from where you're from, especially some of the more ‘unusual’ ones(I literally found out the other day that pb&j sandwiches are considered weird in Korea??)

I think you two would accidentally confuse each other with lesser known cultural differences, like when he first asks you to be official after only like two dates(which is normal in korean culture, but not so much in western dating)

Would become very aware of the prejudices and discrimination that foreign couples deal with in both your countries. Like, obviously he was aware it was an issue before, but dealing with it first hand made him realize just how much of an issue it was.

It would make his heart soo happy to see you learning how to speak Korean or embracing different parts of his culture.

(Secretly studies your native language to surprise you for your birthday or anniversary)

Yoongi:

I might be projecting a lil bit, but I can honestly see him having a foreign partner. Idk, I just see him not really paying much mind to things like race/nationality, he likes who he likes and that’s it.

Might be a little shy about how much more comfortable you are with things like casual skinship tho, but he also kinda secretly loves it.

He would really love that you’re so direct sometimes, rather than trying to ask for things in a more roundabout ‘polite’ way that is considered proper in Korean culture. He would love that you’re to the point, like him.

Would be so flattered if you made the effort to learn Korean, grinning so big the first time he hears you use even something little like “Hajima” correctly.

He’d do the same with your language too. Learning about your culture would be really important to him, he wants you to know that he appreciates you and where you came from.

Hobi:

Tbh, I totally see him with a foreign partner, he would love the variety and unique energy that you bring to each other's lives.

I think he would tend to forget some of the differences in how you both grew up until you mention something more drastic like school safety drills and he has to do a double take like “wtf?!”

I think he would love how open and expressive you are about your home and culture, and loves learning about where you came from. You’re his favorite person, he wants to know as much as possible about you!

Would have soo much fun teaching you about all the different holidays and traditions in Korea that differ from where you’re from.

Would be soo surprised if you learned to speak Korean, even if it’s just a few phrases at first. He just gets so happy and giggly hearing you speak.

Namjoon:

I think most people consider him the most likely out of the group to have a foreign partner, and tbh I kinda agree.

He would make a serious effort to learn as much about your country/culture as he could, possibly even wanting to visit there sometime with you.

Despite being pretty well versed in a lot of other cultures, he would definitely still have little moments of culture shock over random things like educational systems. Like I can imagine his surprise/confusion over the more lax approach in some schools or someone being homeschooled(hi).

Would be super impressed if you already knew some korean when you met, but if not, he’s more than happy to help you learn.

Lowkey quite protective over you, bc he knows how harsh Korean media can be towards celebrities having foreign partners.

Jimin:

Thinks your Korean is super cute! He finds it absolutely adorable the way you say certain words, and he loves the way you speak slowly and softly when you’re focused on pronouncing certain phrases correctly.

If you’re new to living in Korea, he would do his best to help you settle in and adjust to the differences in day to day life, as well as comforting you on the days when you feel homesick.

Loves learning about your culture, tho I think he would prefer learning from you than on his, just so he can watch how excited you get talking about your home.

Would be soo excited if he finds any similarities between your cultures, whether it’s how you celebrate certain holidays, or a similar dish. He loves finding those little connections.

Another who would be rather protective over you, especially if he knows you have anxieties about certain things due to public safety issues where you’re from. He just wants to make sure you to feel safe

Taehyung:

I know a lot of people see him as rather traditional when it comes to things like dating/relationships, but I could very much see him with a foreign partner, especially since he talked about wanting to live abroad at some point in the future.

I think he would find your different perspectives really refreshing, you really help broaden each other's horizons.

I honestly think he would be another who would sometimes forget the differences in how you both grew up until he brings up something and you’re like “We never did that??”

Lowkey brags about you every chance he gets like “Oh ,Y/n’s from (country name), and they were teaching me about-”

He never treats it as if you’re some sort of novelty tho, he just really loves you and wants to show you that he supports you and shares your pride for who you are and where you’re from.

Jungkook:

I think he would have a lot of fun with a foreign partner, learning about each other's cultures and sharing stories about your upbringings.

Might take him a while to adjust to things like your relationships/dynamics with other guys, just bc that’s not quite as common in Korea, but I could see him actually really enjoying it if you fit into his friend group bc of that.

Another that would feel rather protective over you for similar reasons as Joon. If anyone so much as looks at you weird, he’s gonna shut them down soo fast.

He loves hearing you speak in your native language, there’s something about it that’s just so soothing and melodic about it to him. But it’s only when you're speaking, it’s not the same with anyone else.

Would ask you to teach him so that he can hear you speak it more(study dates where you help each other would be super cute and cozy)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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dixons-sunshine · 6 months ago

Text

Risky Business | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: During an evening party organized by Carol, you and Daryl couldn’t help but get a little worked up, your hands constantly finding each other amongst the crowd. So you slipped off, the two of you discreetly finding your way to the bathroom to have your fun—even at the risk of getting caught.

Genre: Smut.

Era: Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, porn with the tiniest bit of plot towards the end, quickie, semi public sex? (they do it in someone’s bathroom), risk of getting caught (they don’t), unprotected p in v (wrap it up, guys), creampie, aftercare because of course, mentions of pregnancy.

Word count: 1.7k.

A/N: I’m just gonna leave this here and disappear lol. I really don’t know what possessed me when I got this idea, but I hope it’s enjoyable. Also, massive thanks to @thevegandarkelf for encouraging me to write this (and for help with the summary) 💜.

Laughter and chatter could be heard from the living room. Surprisingly, everyone seemed to be enjoying the small get-together that Carol had planned. The party was in full swing, with no sign of anyone returning to their respective homes anytime soon. It was nice to have an escape from the horrors of a world run by the undead.

However, the pleasantries downstairs were only a vague remembrance in your mind. No offense to Carol’s efforts to make the party fun, but you found what you and Daryl were up to way more enjoyable.

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed against your lips, his mouth moving against yours desperately as his hands gripped at your hips. He pushed you against the sink in the bathroom, your back making contact with the cold marble.

You gently nipped at his lower lip, smiling when he groaned and pressed his body against yours, his growing erection pressing against your thigh. “This is wrong,” you mumbled against his mouth, your hands working at his belt buckle, and then at the buttons of his jeans.

“So wrong,” Daryl agreed, his chapped lips moving down your jaw, trailing hungry, open-mouthed kisses against the skin of your neck, before finally stopping to gently scrape his teeth against the pulse point beneath your ear.

You gasped, leaning your head back to allow him better access to your neck. You pushed his jeans down, just enough to reveal his hard-on that was still covered by the fabric of his boxers. “They’re waiting for us. If they come looking, they might find us like this.”

“They could,” Daryl agreed again, his own hands working to push your pants down as well. “This s’risky. We could get caught.”

Despite the both of you agreeing that what you were doing was, indeed, very risky, neither of you made any effort to stop the other. In fact, as Daryl pushed your underwear down and you stepped out of both your pants and panties, and you helped Daryl push his boxers down to bundle up with his jeans at his knees, sharing looks full of lust, you realized that you would not be able to find it in yourself to stop him.

Daryl’s mouth collided against yours again, his tongue delving deep into your mouth and groaning at the taste. He tapped the side of your leg, signalling for you to jump. You did just that, wrapping your arms around his neck. Daryl caught you, walking—albeit awkwardly, due to his jeans being bundled up by his knees—you away from the sink in favour of holding you up against the wall.

You pulled your lips from his, your mouths being connected by a string of saliva. Daryl’s usual stunning cerulean-coloured eyes were barely visible behind his blown pupils, showing just how desperate he was for you in that moment. He needed you, just like you needed him.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked through panting breaths. “We have maybe ten minutes before someone comes looking. Let’s get to it.”

“Ya sure? We dun’ gotta rush—”

“Daryl, I love you, but please hurry up.”

Daryl chuckled gruffly at your eagerness, but nodded nonetheless. “Yes, ma’am.”

You watched in anticipation as Daryl lined himself up with your entrance, your heart pounding against your ribcage. The archer kept eye contact with you the entire time, not wanting to miss even a second of the beautiful expressions that graced your features as he slowly pushed his cock into you.

The breath got knocked from your lungs as he fully bottomed out. A high-pitched moan escaped your chest at the pleasurable stretch, your nails digging into his leather-covered shoulders. Even after all that time of regularly doing the devil’s tango, you still had to take a moment to get used to the slight sting that accompanied him when he had his dick stuffed all the way inside of you.

Daryl inhaled sharply, his lust-filled eyes meeting yours. “Y’alright?” he questioned. Despite the situation, the archer was more than willing to stop everything if you wanted him to. He would never do anything like this without your go-ahead first.

You took a few seconds to adjust. Once the little bit of pain subsided, you nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Just… Please move,” you begged him, not knowing how long you would be able to be patient with him being immobile.

Daryl took a few deep breaths. “Okay.” Then, he pulled back until only his tip was inside of you, before plunging right back in.

The rhythm started off slow and steady, but Daryl quickly picked up the pace. The two of you were running against the clock. He wanted to ensure that you got off as well, and to do that, he could not waste any time.

“Daryl,” you moaned quietly, right next to his ear, which you knew would always drive him insane. It seemed to work in your favour. Daryl’s hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock hitting just the right spot. “Oh, fuck!” you gasped out in pleasure, your fingers disappearing into his hair and lightly tugging on his wavy brown roots.

Daryl groaned at the sensation. He smashed his lips against yours, both in an attempt to drown out the beautiful noises you made—which were for his ears only—and the noises you were pulling from him.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth. “You ain’t got—” Thrust. “—no idea—” Thrust. “—how fuckin’—” Another thrust. “—good ya feel.”

“Yeah?” you asked rhetorically, a whine slipping past your lips and being swallowed up by Daryl’s. Your back was moving up and down against the cold tiles of the wall with each of his thrusts.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed with a choked off moan. “You feel like heaven.” He carefully moved one of his arms to your front, ensuring you did not fall, before pressing his calloused thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves and moving it in time with the pace of his hips.

“Shit! Oh, shit! Daryl, fuck!” You were trying really hard to keep quiet, but Daryl was making it damn near impossible. You lowered your head and pressed your face into his shoulder, muffling your moans with the leather of his vest. You could feel the knot in your stomach start to tighten, and some far-off piece of your mind was impressed by it. Never before had you been close so fast before. Daryl truly was the best partner you ever had.

“Close.” That’s all you managed to get out. Any other words would fall short.

Daryl could feel himself getting close as well. In fact, he was tapering on the edge of bliss. He grit his teeth together and upped his game. He was determined to make you finish first. His thumb pressed against your clit the tiniest bit harder, and his thrusts became more precise, more firm, hitting that one delicious spot inside you each time.

Before you could even fully process what was happening, you could feel the knot in your stomach snap. You came undone with a shout, that was drowned out by Daryl’s mouth against yours, waves and waves of pleasure washing through your body.

The clenching of your walls around his dick sent Daryl toppling over the edge. His hips stuttered and his pace wavered immensely as he spilled his seed deep inside of you, barely registering that he had intended to pull out like he always did. He leaned his forehead against yours, sweat dribbling down his temples.

The two of you said and did nothing for a good thirty seconds. You both simply stayed there in each other’s embrace, each catching your breaths as the intensity of the moment washed away, instead being replaced by reality.

Daryl was the first to move away. He pulled his cock out of you and pulled his boxers and jeans back up, before leaning over to grab a washcloth. He wet it and crouched down, gently cleaning you of both your juices and his.

And his.

“Fuck, m’so sorry!” Daryl apologized, his eyes widening at the realization of what line he had crossed.

His apology took you off guard. “What? Why are you sorry? What’s wrong?”

Daryl looked down and continued his task of cleaning you up, his cheeks burning in embarrassment of the admission he was about to make. “I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t pull out.”

Oh, you thought to yourself, relieved that it wasn’t something more serious. Despite his heartfelt apology, you could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest, finding him rather adorable in that moment for reasons even you could not put names on.

Daryl frowned at that, standing up from his crouched position. “What’s so funny?”

You shook your head as you smiled at him. “Nothing.” You reached down and reached for your discarded clothes, getting re-dressed into your panties and trousers. “You don’t have to be sorry, Daryl. I’m not mad.”

Daryl visibly relaxed at that. “You ain’t?”

You shook your head and looped your arms around his neck. “Not at all. It was bound to happen eventually. Besides, “worst” case scenario is that we have a little you running around in nine months. I don’t hate the sound of that.”

Daryl felt his heart speed up. You wouldn’t mind giving him a child? Starting a family with him? That made him happier than he would like to admit.

His hands came to rest on your hips. “Pretty sure the baby ain’t gon’ be able to run when they’re jus’ born, Sweetheart. Ain’t gon’ be able to do no runnin’ in nine months.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “You know I didn’t mean it literally.”

“Yeah, I—”

“Has anyone seen Daryl?”

The sound of Rick’s voice from somewhere in the home cut the archer off. You chuckled and withdrew from his hold, instead offering your hand to him.

“Come on. They noticed you are gone. It’s only a matter of time before they realize I’m gone, too.”

“And what if they question us comin’ back to the party together?” Daryl inquired, but took your hand in his nonetheless and allowed you to lead him from the bathroom.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

Daryl huffed a small laugh. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

“I am choosing to see that as a compliment.”

750 notes · View notes

fashionteahouse · 7 months ago

Note

Hii! Your work is amazing!

Could you write a Reader x Paul story? The idea is that the reader is Jacob's friend, and he takes her to meet the pack. Paul has an imprint on her but keeps it a secret. Meanwhile, the reader becomes very close to the boys without knowing they are shapeshifters. At some point, they start arguing about Jacob suffering because of Bella. The reader then comforts Jacob, saying how sweet and loving he is and that he should find someone who truly loves him back. This makes Paul jealous. If it’s not too much trouble, could you make it a long story? I’ll leave the ending to your creativity—I absolutely love it!💓

heyy thank youuu 💜 and sure I would love to ! hope you enjoy :)

where do we go - paul x reader

"I can hear your stomach growling from here." Jacob pokes at you.

Nudging him, you tell him, "Just wait, yours will rumble like thunder in just one moment."

He chuckles at this and focuses back on the road with one hand on the steering wheel.

"This rides really smooth." you compliment his newly constructed ride. The rabbit he had been working on, was finally finished.

"Thanks." he says with a big smile.

Pulling up to the small but friendly looking home, you get out the car and adjust your slightly wrinkled clothes from it being pressed against the seat belt.

"Come on." he says impatiently. You wave him off, knowing that it was due to his hunger. He takes your hand and guides you into the home. You were shocked at the fact that he just opened the door and walked in like it was his own home.

A long, dark haired woman sets a platter of food in the middle of the table and looks over and smiles, "Just in time, Jacob. You brought someone." she states as she looks at you with a crinkle in her eye.

You wave with a friendly smile.

"This is Emily. Emily this is Y/N." Jacob says and you both say hi again.

"Are you hungry?" she asks.

"Hell yeah, I'm hungry." a boy says as he walks in and plops at a seat at the table.

Emily rolls her eyes and tsks, "Not you. I'm talking about Y/N." she says.

"Yes. Everything looks so good." you say and comment.

Jacob tugs your hand and sits you down next to him.

"This is Jared." Jacob tells you and you nod.

"I could've told her that." Jared replies back and this makes you smile a bit.

More people started to file into the room, conversations were thrown as people settled into their seats. They introduced themselves. You kept note of their names. Quil, Embry, Seth, and Sam.

"Where's Leah and Paul?" Sam asks as he grabs a fork.

"They said they were coming." Embry says as he wastes no time with digging in.

The door opens as you were in the middle of defending your growling stomach, Jacob tells the table how loud it was growling earlier.

You look and see a tall woman with short hair walk in with a muscle covered man.

You almost drooled at the sight of him but decided to keep your mouth occupied by chewing.

"We have company?" Leah asks as she takes a look at you and sits down with her own plate.

You both exchanged names.

"Can you hand me that?" you hear a rough voice.

"You should say please." Jacob says. You still hand it to him, you took it as an opportunity to look at this person who to you, was eye candy.

His eyes were like a spell. The talk that circled around you was muffled and didn't register in your ears as his warm fingers plucked the syrup bottle from you. His eyes went down to his own plate. You missed the sight but thought it was just a silly crush.

Paul on the other hand, didn't know how to feel. He liked the life of not being tied down. He loathed the idea of imprinting, he felt it was glamorized brainwashing. He didn't speak for the rest of the time at the table.

You and Leah wash the dishes as Emily clears the table.

"Are you going to be around more often?" Leah asks as she rinsed the cup under the warm water.

"I hope so. You guys are fun." you say with a smile.

You join the others in the living room, Jacob pats a spot next to him.

Paul did have questions. He wondered if Jacob had finally gotten over Bella Swan. He wondered if you were taking her place. He wondered how you two met. So, that's what he asked.

"How do you know Jacob?"

He didn't care how it came out, it was itching him to know. He watched closely as you looked at Jacob and giggled before saying, "Do you want to tell him or should I?"

Paul sighed softly to himself with impatience. He wanted to know the answer but you and Jacob laughed with each other as if you two shared an inside joke. Paul wanted to know how Jacob made you bubbly like that.

"Just tell him." you say, feeling nervous at Paul's intense and focused gaze.

"She used to work at a cookie shop. She would hook me up with the leftovers." Jacob shrugs.

"You still work there?" Quil asks, he wanted to be in on it.

"No, not anymore." you say while shaking your head.

"Why? He got you fired?" Paul asks again.

"No." you say in a small voice as you look to him.

"It was good while it lasted." Jacob says as he then starts to hold your hand.

"Everything can't last forever." you say to him with a small smile.

Since that day, you came over more often. You guilty started to prefer Sam and Emily's over Jacob's garage, even though you two shared great memories in such place.

Some days you would see Paul. Some days you don't. It didn’t bother you too much, you found yourself enjoying the quirks of each pack member.

You all were on the beach. You joined in on a soccer game. You had fun even though it was supposed to be competitive. Falling in the sand didn't matter to you.

You pant and sit down next to Leah, feeling tired.

"How come Paul didn't join us?" you ask. It was a nice day and everybody was in high spirits.

"Who knows." she replies.

"Oh." you say.

Paul walked the pathway to the beach. He could hear and see everyone from a distance. His ears opened as he could hear you and Leah speaking. He had conflicted emotions as seen you sitting next to her, he dreamt of you, two nights in a row.

"Is Paul antisocial or something?" you ask her.

Leah chuckles but shrugs and looks over, she sees Paul making his way to the sand covered beach.

Seth comes over and begs you both to play again. You get up as you watch Leah get up.

Paul just sat on the fallen log that distance from him and the group. He watched as you all had fun.

He didn't stay long. He found himself watching over you and he felt the spiked feeling when you looked over at him a few times.

Jacob wrapped his arm around you as he walked you back to his car. The sky was dark and you were yawning.

This time, you went over and Sam and Emily's with Leah. Walking in, you were happy to see everybody. Everyone got up and greeted you or gave you hugs.

Everyone except Jacob and Paul.

You walk over to a sulking Jacob, your face was masked with concern as he wasn't his usual sunny self.

"Hey Jake." you say softly.

"Hey." he replies back.

You didn't push it, you made sure to stay close. Paul watched as you brushed your arm against his, he secretly wanted you to do the same for whenever he was moody.

You eat some cookies that Emily had made, you offer him one. He shakes his head. You follow him out of the door and sit on the porch swing next to him.

You both sit in silence as the swing slowly rocked back and forth and the sounds of birds chirping was what filled the silence.

You look at him.

"Who did it?" you ask him. He shakes his head as he stares ahead.

"It's nothing. Really." he says. You're not convinced.

Dinner had came as you all enjoyed the cooked meal.

"Don't tell me you're still upset at that chick." Quil says as he takes a look at Jacob's slow paced eating.

"What chick? He wont tell me anything." you say as you put your utensil in your mouth.

"Bella Swan." Paul says. It was sneaky, but he didn't care.

"What did she do this time?" you ask Jacob and rub his arm.

"I just don't get it, why does she keeps pretending like she doesn't have feelings for me as well?"

"Well, how can you know for sure?" you ask.

"Come on, Y/N. The whole time her precious boyfriend was gone, she came to me for comfort. I saw the way she would look at me, let me hold her hand, and everything." Jacob says.

Embry snorts, "He still holds onto the fact that she told him he was sorta beautiful."

Snickering filled the table as they tease at the fact that he used to never shut up about it when it happened. Jacob just didn't have it in him to laugh a long with them. He genuinely felt frustrated and strung along. You didn't laugh either, you hold his hand that was resting on the table.

"I say to don't keep wasting your time on earning her love. If it was meant to be it would've happened."

"Thats the thing, it was going to happen. Had her boyfriend not come back."

"Jake, if she ran off with him at the opportunity presented, did she really love you enough?"

Jacob shrugs in defeat. You tug at his hand to get him to look at you. He does.

"Shes not the only girl in the world. As someone as sweet as you are, the right girl will come around. You're so loving and just so full of love, you will easily find someone who will love you right back. Just open your horizons." you say to him closely, you wanted him to grasp onto what you were saying.

"Is Y/N trying to shoot her shot?" Jared asks humorously.

Laughs circle around you tell him to shut up through your own laughter.

"Let me be there for him." you say as you take a look at your friend. He cheered up a bit, you didn't want him to get out of character for someone who didn't treat him to his value.

Paul didn't have an appetite anymore. He watched the interaction and felt something foreign enter his body. Jealousy. He was used to people being jealous of what he had, not the other way around.

"You don't want any more?" Emily asks Paul as he rises to empty his plate.

"I got full." he simply says. He takes a last glance as you continued to rub the back of Jacob's hand.

He goes outside and does what he does best, phase.

His mind wouldn't stop. Fantasies and realities began to mix with each other.

He huffed out through his snout as he bared his teeth at the thought of Jacob and you becoming an item.

"Paul? Did you imprint?"

Paul groaned at the distraction of his brain, not giving him a clue when Sam phased in. He shifts out and books it toward his home. He did a lot of thinking in the shower.

It shocked Emily and Sam when Paul decided to come over earlier than he usually does.

Sam gives him a look. Paul ignores him. He didn't need a pep talk, his mind was focused on one thing.

You and Jacob came in hand in hand and you both were softly talking to each other.

"Y/N."

You jump at the sound of Paul's voice saying your name. It was unexpected and you couldn't lie, you liked the way that it sounded.

"Yes?" you answer in a small voice.

"I need to talk to you." he says and steps forward.

Jacob clutched your hand tighter before moving you back a bit.

"For what?" Jacob questioned.

"I'm not talking to you." Paul coldly says.

"Jacob. It's alright." Sam speaks up and nods to Paul.

You say to Jacob, "I will be back, okay?”

He nods but you still saw the uncertainty.

You and Paul walked away from the home. You expected it to be awkward but it was comfortable. You kept glancing at him, his face was focused, as if he was thinking.

"I wont bite." he says as you two stop near a tall tree. You then saw the handsome grin that was displayed on his face.

"What's this talk about?" you ask warmly.

"I want to see you more often." he states.

"I do see you." you say.

He chuckled a bit, "No, I mean. I see you and you see me."

Your stomach drops. You had to make sure you weren't dreaming.

"W-why?" you ask, in a cracked voice.

"Never mind. I will back off if you and Jacob are a thing." he says.

"No!" you say louder than meant, "I mean.. Me and Jacob, we're just friends."

"The way you were talking to him, I would've thought you had a crush on him." he says in a somewhat teasing tone.

You shake your head, "I just really care for him. People who are in my life mean a lot to me." you say.

He nods.

You bring your own smile.

I mean. You're sort of beautiful." you say in a small voice. The look he gave you almost made your knees buckle.

"Sort of?" he asks.

You playfully roll your eyes a bit as you then look down, "You know what I mean." you whisper.

"So, where do we go from here?" you then ask.

"Wherever you want." he simply says.

As you two walk, he didn't want to tell you the imprint. He kept picturing the crash that would come down on your world once he tells you that you would be bound forever to someone like him.

You come back in and Jacob immediately, is in your face, this makes you laugh.

"I'm still alive, Jake. Calm down." you laugh. He just hugs you. Paul ignored the narrowed eyes that were darted his way.

You didn't come over on this particular day. You and Emily decided to spend the day together.

Jacob confronts Paul.

"Whatever you're thinking about doing, think again."

"Or what?" Paul simply asks.

Jacob steps forward, "Stay away from her. She doesn't need to be tainted by you."

Paul steps forward as well, "Or what?" he asks again. It was one thing for him to think it in his own head, it was another thing for someone to say it directly to him.

"You will see." Jacob states and walks off.

Paul shakes his head at the younger boy, he was in for a surprise.

You come into the home with Emily, Paul stayed hoping to run into you.

"Where's Jake?" you ask Sam who was moving towards Emily.

"Billy called him to come home." he states.

"Oh." you say. Before you could fully tun your body fully around, you heard, "You're not going to stay?"

Paul looked right you, expecting an answer.

You shrug. You watch him scoot over in the sofa, leaving some room for you to clearly sit down.

You slowly walk and have a seat.

He gets comfortable and doesn't care that his arm brushed against you. To be honest, you didn't care either.

Your mind was in a daze as it constantly thought how nice it was to be around Paul.

"Did you hear me?"

You look up.

"You weren't listening?" Jacob asks with a wrench in his hand.

"Sorry." you say whispering and shaking your head a bit.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"Yeah. I'm just distracted that's all."

Jacob sighs a bit and suggests something, "Lets walk around or something. You've been cooped up in here with me."

You chuckle and rise up. The rain had stopped, leaving the air to be humid.

You soon find out that Jacob had been taking it one day at a time.

"You wont get over her overnight but, at least it's something." you say and take his hand to comfort him.

"I know." he says.

You noticed his walking slowing down. It wasn't until you looked ahead and your heart started to work extra hard to beat.

You see Paul's eyes flicker down to you and Jacob's conjoined hands.

You loosen your grip and put your hand behind your back. Paul is amused at this and even more amused at the somewhat hurt look on Jacob's face.

"Can we help you?" Jacob asks in an irritated tone.

You give him a look to tell him to chill out.

Paul doesn't seem effected by Jacob's cruel tone, just putting his eyes back onto you.

"How are you?"

"I'm good. You?" you say back.

"Better." he answers back.

"Come on, Y/N." Jacob says as he tugs your hand. You look over your shoulder to see Paul standing, looking at you as well as you walked away.

"What was that?" you ask Jacob as distance is great.

"You can't get close with him, Y/N." he says.

"Why not?" you ask.

"He's bad news." he says.

"Jake, that's not fair. I've been getting close with everyone."

"Just. Not him, okay? Please. You trust me right?" he presses.

"Yes. I trust you." you say and you seen the relief that washed over his face.

You stuffed your hands in your pocket as you watched the waves. You had agreed to go to the beach with Seth and Leah.

Seth picks up a stick, a worm was on it.

"Look, Y/N." he says with a smile, bringing the stick closer.

You squealed a bit, the worm looked nasty.

"Seth, Jesus. Leave her alone." Leah says.

Seth directs the stick in her direction, on the verge of laughing. Leah jumps back, "Seth, I swear!"

He continues his teasing as both you and Leah run a bit to get away from Seth who held the power to make you and Leah squirm.

You bump hard into something to the point, you emit an, "Oof."

Two strong hands hold your arms up, you don't even know what the wet sand felt like. You were grateful.

You look up to see Paul's face staring down at you.

"Sorry." you say and step back as if he was flaming fire. His face flashed a quick look of pining.

You turn around seen the stick on the ground and Leah has Seth in a headlock.

"Not so funny is it?" Leah says with a smirk.

"Lee I'm sorry. Come on, you have to admit that it was funny." Seth says.

"It will be funny if I make you eat this worm." Leah says.

You felt a hot hand touch your arm to make you turn back around.

"I haven't seen you around in a while." he says.

You shrug.

"You think I have germs or something?" he asks as he follows you on a large rock to sit on.

Softly chuckling, "No."

"Then what is it?" he asks lowly, his face was nicely placed close to your face. You didn't have to look over or up much, to see his face.

"I don't know." you whisper.

"Liar." he whispered back.

"Y/N, are you eating dinner with us?" Leah calls over, both herself and Seth looked ready to leave.

"I will feed you. If you want." Paul offers to you, only you could hear.

"Um.." you say to him and call back to Leah, "Sure."

You rise up. Paul's heart drops down.

"Getting cuddly with Lahote?" Leah asks you as you and her were in the bathroom taking turns to wash hands.

"It's nothing." you say.

"Sure." she says sarcastically.

Her mother, Sue, had good cooking. You made sure to compliment it and shes flattered.

Leah persuades you to spend the night.

You go with her and Seth in the morning to Sam's for breakfast.

You notice Paul wasn't there. Jacob engulfs you into a hug. You felt the difference in the room. You couldn't put your finger on it, his absence was very noticeable.

Emily wraps a plate as the boys teased each other in the living room.

"Who's that for?"

"This was for Paul. I was going to drop it off for him." she answers.

Before you knew what you were doing, your mouth opens, "I can-" you close it back.

Emily looks to you. "What were you going to say?"

"I can drop it off... If you want." you ask in a small voice.

"Okay!" she says and gives you the directions to his home.

You left before Jacob would notice you leaving. You still took small steps as you got closer to Paul's home. Your heart pounded so hard out for your chest.

The pounds weren't louder than the bang on the door you made from your knuckles. You clutched onto the plate that was under your finger's grip.

The door opened to a mouthwatering sight.

A shirtless Paul slowly pries the plate from your hands. He takes one finger to close your slightly opened mouth.

He chuckled as you regain your common sense.

"Tell Emily I said thank you."

You nod and go to turn, a warm hand jets out to you to turn you back around.

"You don't have to tell her right at this second." he says.

He opens the door wider, silently inviting you in.

You sit at his not so big table, as he eats.

"How come you didn't come over?" you ask.

"I don't know." he says.

"Liar." you whisper. A dark chuckle forms in his throat. He looks at you for some time with an amused look.

You look down as your cheeks feel hot. You heard him whisper something else.

"Pretty."

You then feel a soft brush on your cheek. Looking, you see it was the back of his finger. You felt sure. He felt sure. You didn't know how to explain it, it felt like this moment was always meant to be.

619 notes · View notes

madamechrissy · 8 months ago

Text

Keep This Low Key

💜 Pairings: Choso x Fem reader- Rating: Explicit- MDNI

💜 Contents/Warnings: Choso isn't super submissive like most stories, but he is a sweetheart and a doll baby! Has a tongue ring for reasons. In this chapter, fingering, cunnilingus, making out, sexual tension, friends w/benefits

💜 Word Count: this chap - 9.4k

💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea.

Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other? No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?

✨️ Split POV, Mostly Reader but also Choso at the beginning <3 Comments and reblogs appreciated ✨️

💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜 (still in progress)

Chapter One

Choso’s POV

“What do you mean, you don’t want to be with me anymore?” Choso asks that cold fall night, voice breaking as he looks over at Yuki, who is standing in front of that movie theater, the one they had planned to go see tonight, and she’s all dressed up, her blond hair swishing as she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, Choso, you’re sweet but… there’s someone else I have feelings for, you’re a doll, really, but… I’m interested in him more. I never wanted to hurt you, but this was just something casual to me.” Choso breaks down then, feeling emotions wreck him, his heart thrumming in his chest, blood rushing through his veins.

“But I am falling for you, Yuki. Please.” He takes her hands then, and she sighs, Choso feels his world crumbling. “I thought you felt the same?”

Yuki looks into his violet eyes, frowning. “Fuck I feel like shit for this. But no, Choso for me it was just fun, you’re not my type exactly.”

He blinks his long dark lashes then, full lips setting seriously now at her words. “Not your type?”

“You’re gorgeous, sweet, so soft… I just need someone a little harsher, a little more manly, I’m sorry.”

He scoffs then, raising a dark brow. “Not manly, remember how I had you screaming my name over and over?” His voice is a low whisper, and he watches her reaction to them, but clearly not enough to matter.

“Well, you certainly are good at that.” Her pretty face blushes, her brown eyes looking away, and Choso starts to feel such anger, his heart clutched by her mean hands, he’d been falling for Yuki for some time now. They’d been together six months, that was not nothing and she so casually is tossing it aside.

“What did I do wrong?” He asks, his voice breaking in the middle. She is sighing then, as people walk in and out, arm in arm.

Yuki was the only girl Choso had ever been with, after having pined away for her for all of college, and finally he thought she gave him a chance. He gave all of his attention to her, even not spending time with his best friend, you, who he misses so much, because Yuki was so insecure about you.

He still tried to keep in touch and even bought you coffees and would hand them to you as he walked by your work every morning. You had been his best friend since middle school, he couldn’t not have you in his life. However your boyfriend also seemed insecure about your friendship with Choso, so there was some sad realization from both of you as you smiled so pretty and thanked him every morning.

That you all were so close it intimidated both of your significant others.

Choso had spent countless nights with you on the couch with him, watching movies, throwing popcorn at each other’s mouths to catch. Some nights you’d take his bed, and he’d sleep on the couch, other nights you’d both pass out and wake up awkwardly laughing, perhaps you’d drool, or Choso would snore. But that was all it was, friendship.

There was a time he’d wanted more, and he’d tried to tell you so many times, but you had been enamored with a boy at school, his name was Satoru, some popular white haired jock you had a thing for. You’d been in love with him all of high school in fact, so Choso had eventually let it go, the thought of more, and focused on truly being your friend. And friends only.

Then he’d seen her in Senior year, Yuki, and he’d had it so bad for her, she was so strong and feisty and enamored him. You eventually realized Gojo was not interested in you more than casually, and you had brought up something that he’d stopped, and he wishes he didn’t. He remembers it so clearly.

‘Cho, I have something to confess.’ You’d said softly, as Choso had been waiting for Yuki to come out of her class, so that he could invite her to the last dance of the school year.

‘Hey angel, what is it?’ He’d asked as he smiled at you, so pretty in your school uniform, surely by now you and Gojo were an item he figured, he didn’t know then that Gojo had hurt you.

‘Why haven’t we ever tried to… um, date? Am I not your type?’ You’d asked, looking down nervously at your Mary Janes. Choso’s mouth dropped open, for four years he had dreamed of those words, but now…

Now it felt a little too late, he was so enamored with Yuki, and you were his best, dearest friend in the world, he’d made himself resigned to that. “But you’re in love with Gojo?’

‘I thought I was, but Cho I think-’ Yuki had walked out then, and Chose had ruffled your hair and kissed your head, running after her like a lovesick puppy, just like you had with Gojo for so long.

Choso wished he’d have done that differently, but at that point he’d had feelings for Yuki, so both of you decided to stay friends, forever, no matter what, but what were you going to say? How would that have changed…

And shit, now he needs his best friend, as the girl he’s fallen so hard for so casually breaks his heart. He feels tears drip out the corners of his eyes, brushing them carefully with his thumbs, which have black nail polish chipping just a bit. Yuki sighs, shifting side to side and stepping up to Choso then, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t cry, shit… I could go about this nicer I guess. Choso Kamo, you’re a great guy, you really are, and I had fun. A lot of fun. But I need someone more serious, not in some silly rock band, I’m really sorry.” He glares then, jaw locking, as Choso’s band had certainly been doing very well, and getting much bigger. But Choso also worked his ass and made good money too.

Choso had his own house and had taken care of his little brother Yuji by himself, even putting him in college, when their grandparents who raised them passed away. He was focused on his music more lately now that Yuji was not with him, but he still made sure to have a savings, and lived pretty comfortably in his own place.

“I am serious, you’re giving me excuses about me being the problem, when it’s pretty clear you just… had someone in mind.” His brows draw together, as he brushes his hair back, half up in a bun tonight. Yuki opens her mouth to say something when a car drives right up, and it’s Suguru Geto who rolls his windows down in his silver sports car.

Choso knows Suguru from high school, Satoru Gojo’s best friend, Choso was cool with him but certainly not close. He looks at the two of you, dark eyes darting back and forth, before sinking back in his seat awkwardly. Choso’s violet eyes are wide as he stares at Yuki now, who’s biting her lower lip nervously, a hand on Choso’s shoulder again, gently.

“I’m sorry, Cho.”

“Don’t call me that.” He takes her hand off gently, he wants to smack it off but he can’t treat a lady like that, even if she’s currently awful.

“I’m sorry, man I came early I guess.” Geto says from his car, and Choso scoffs as he looks back at Yuki.

“Really, you’re not just leaving me, you’re leaving me with the man you’ve been hot for since high school?”

“Look, I am sorry. Maybe you can understand?” She says, as Choso blinks rapidly at her audacity, scoffing.

“Ouch.” Suguru says, and Choso is close to punching him, clenching his fists, covered in black rings and tattoos. Suguru was who Yuki had been in love with forever, Choso knew that, but he thought it was long gone. Suguru had moved to run a family business a year or so ago. “I’m sorry, man.”

“I don’t want to hear from you.” Choso says then, through his teeth, as he feels the situation overwhelming him, nothing about the cool night air can chill him, his skin on fire. “Go then, if that’s what you want.”

“Choso, maybe we can be friends one day? I’m so sorry.” She says then, and he laughs, covering his face, shaking his head.

“No. You’ll never be my friend.” He turns and walks away as he has to hear the sound of Suguru’s car zipping off, and her laughter out the window. Just a few days ago she’d been in his arms, he’d made her cum… fuck five times with his mouth alone, and she’d said he was the best she’d had.

How can it change so quickly?

He had a feeling he was further along in his feelings than Yuki, but he didn’t know she clearly didn’t see him as more than ‘fun’. Choso didn’t just do those things for fun, no Yuki was it for him, he’d even been contemplating getting her a promise ring, he’d gone with Yuji to shop around just last week.

He’s glad he couldn’t decide on one.

He is heading back now towards his car, contemplating calling you, fuck he needs you, needs your understanding, how you listen, your advice. You rub his hair back as he lays his head in your lap, and he’d done it for you, when Satoru had broken up with you on prom night, when you’d been such a mess in your pretty dress, and he’d danced all night with you.

When you’d picked Choso up as he’d been a drunk mess from his last girlfriend breaking up with him and took him to your place, and took care of him. He’d woken up and you’d looked so uncomfortable, he’d slept right in your lap, and you’d just sat there on the floor like that, your back on the couch. He’d bought you a massage, he felt so bad, but you’d just smiled.

You were the one who had helped get Yuji into college, his little brother had the biggest crush on you. It was adorable. He was like a lost little puppy after you, and you were so sweet with him, too. Yuji still asks about you, and when he visits he makes sure you’re coming over for dinner, heartbroken you were dating some guy named Ino now, but Choso supposes he’s nice enough.

He’s protective of you.

He wants to call you so bad, but fuck he can’t just put this on you, not when you’re on a date. Not when you all haven’t even seen each other anymore really. How can he be selfish, he doesn’t want you to feel used or feel like he’s put you on some back burner as a friend. He keeps staring at your name, but in his phone it used to be Angel 💜

Before Yuki had changed that one.

Choso leans against his car now outside the theater, where it’s quiet and the cold air is blowing more and more as fall brings in the chill, and he fixes your name right back to Angel 💜 Because why the fuck not. His heart is in pieces as he wishes he could hear your voice or see your smile. Fuck Ino was lucky…

Suddenly he sees a figure, a gorgeous shape on a woman a little bit towards the theater, he sees a nice ass and legs in a teeny dress, as the woman is shivering from the cold, then he hears her… crying. Fuck, is that you crying!? Choso runs back up to the sidewalk across from the theater, where there is a strip of restaurants, and he calls out your name, could it be…

You turn then, and he’s stunned for a moment, his breath caught in his chest as he drinks you in for a quick moment. Choso has never seen you in something like this, a tight little bodycon dress, black with silver chains around the waist, and your perfect breasts are revealed far more than he’s ever seen. He forces his eyes up to your face, then his heart breaks more.

You have mascara streaking down your cheeks, and you’ve eaten your lipstick off, just a red line on your full lips now. You sniffle when you see him, rubbing your arms, covered in goosebumps. Choso snaps himself out of it, taking off his jean jacket quickly, slinging it over narrow shoulders, and pulling you against his chest, feeling how hard you are shaking.

“What happened, angel?” He whispers, and you sob more, clinging to him now, as he buries his head down, bending low, inhaling your shampoo, some fruity scent he always loves. You’re tilting your head back to look up at him, looking so small and helpless in his big jacket, as you clutch his black dress shirt.

“I wanted to… to call you, Cho. But I didn't want to ruin your night.” He blinks then, watching your lip trembling, and he’s brushing your hair back, you’d curled it he notices, fuck you look beautiful even if you were upset. He shouldn’t think that but he can’t help it.

“You can always call me.”

“No, I can’t, Yuki hates me. Messaged me to stay away.” He rolls his eyes now, shaking his head. “It was months ago. I’m sorry I shouldn’t even be in your arms.” You pull back now, and he pulls you against him once more, looking down at you. “Cho, you’ll get yelled at.”

“You’re my best friend, I’ll hug you all I want. But also… fuck.” He takes a breath then. “It’s a long story I guess, but she fucking left me.”

“She what!? Is she stupid you spoiled the fuck out of her, and you’re so sweet, and hot… what!? You’re Choso.” You say then, and he melts, as he hugs you so tight again, and rocks you side to side.

“Fuck that for now, you’re clearly more upset. What happened? Did he… did he hurt you I’ll fucking kill him-”

“No not… he broke up with me too.”

“He what!? Is he a fucking idiot, you’re the perfect girl, so caring, and smart, and just look at you.”

“I’m a mess. Ugh. My feet hurt, Cho.” Choso turns then, and you giggle through your tears. “No way.”

“Hop up now, you don’t weigh shit. I’ll carry you to my car.” You tentatively wrap your thighs around his waist now, your arms around his neck, and he hoists you up, you squeal a bit, you’re so cute he thinks.

He shouldn’t think that, you’re just his friend, but how can he not?

“You’re the best friend, ugh I missed you. I forgot how high up you are here.” You tease, finally smiling against his cheek, before kissing it, and he’s happy you can’t see the pink on his cheeks. “I’m like fifteen pounds heavier than in high school you know.”

He rolls his eyes, you’ve got a perfect body, and have men drooling wherever you go. You’re silly not to see it. “Everyone is fifteen pounds bigger. I think it went to your ass though.”

“Cho!” You’re now laughing as he carries you down, laughing with you. “You saying I got a nice ass?”

Yeah you do, but he’ll keep it to himself for now. “I’m saying you had no ass in high school. Your pants wouldn’t stay up.”

“Neither would yours! You just gained muscle, jerk.” You tease, squeezing a bicep and making his breath catch.

“And you look beautiful, perfect, I promise. Just as beautiful as high school if not more so.” You exhale, he feels it tickling his neck as his hands press into your thighs, feeling the muscles as you squeeze him, and then the plush of your inner thighs where his thumb is pressing in.

Fuck they’re nice. Has he ever really noticed? He used to carry you around but you’d worn jeans typically, you were more casual then, he’s noticed you’ve gotten more dressy and girly with Ino. He then tenses further as you squeeze him tighter, and he feels… he feels your heat against him. He stops at his car now, easing you down, cursing himself with his eyes shut.

Choso just got hard carrying you.

He looks down as you hand him his jacket, seeing that outfit again. “Thank you for saying that, really. But even if I look good, it doesn’t matter. I am not enough for him, apparently.” You’re crying again, and he puts that jacket back on you, shaking his head, tilting your chin up.

“You know better. You’re more than good enough for anyone. Now, my place or yours? We’re far overdue for drinks and a movie session.”

“Can I sleep over at yours?”

Usually that would be so casual, but now suddenly… looking like this, he gets flushed thinking of it. “Um, of course you can. Do you wanna grab clothes?”

“No, I’ll just steal your shit.” You tease, leaning up on your tiptoes in your heels, kissing his cheek again. “I used to do that all the time.”

“I know you have so much of my hoodies, ugh.” You just grin, and he’s so happy to see you smile it melts him further, fuck he almost forgets how upset he is now that you’re here.

“Come get in, then we’ll tell each other what happened, yeah?” He holds the car door open for you, leaning over and seatbelting you in, putting him far too close to where your breasts were pushed up in your dress. He struggles to focus and find the clip of the belt, his breath against your skin, and he watches your nipples stick out under the thin material.

Fuck.

“I can do it, silly.” You tease softly, but he hears your voice is breathy, and he finally finds the clip, before sitting next to you and revving up his car, his black Mustang he’d had for years. You stretch a bit, showing too much leg when you put them on his dash, taking off your heels. “Do you mind?”

“No, of course, take em off. Never seen you in heels like that.” He tries not to focus on the fact that even your ankles and feet are pretty, let alone your calves and thighs. Fuck you have nice legs, and he shouldn’t be thinking that, so he struggles to think of the night instead. Of you being hurt, of him being hurt. Of what exactly happened so quickly.

“You’re a lifesaver, I swear.” You sigh then, leaning back, snuggling against his jacket and smiling prettily at him. He swipes some of your mascara off your cheeks when you hit a red light.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” He asks softly, you nod a little bit, biting your lower lip.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you, it’s embarrassing though…”

“You can tell me anything, remember?”

Your POV

Earlier that night

“You’re breaking up with me!?” You’d demanded then, as your boyfriend winces, you all are at dinner and everyone clearly hears you, people whispering, furthering your hurt and embarrassment.

You had been dating Ino for over six months now, that wasn’t nothing. And recently you both had gotten physical, too, something completely new to you, even at age twenty three. Ino had been your first, and you thought it…

“Did it mean nothing?” You whisper furiously, his brows draw together, and his eyes close. “My first time, you knew that. Why do it if-”

“I have feelings for you, you’re so beautiful and sweet. I swear it’s nothing you did, okay?” He touches your hand and you glare, smacking it off.

“It’s not you, it’s me? You’re saying that fucking line, Ino!?”

“Will you calm down-”

You stand then, scoffing. “Calm down, fuck no. We just did that, you just took it and now you- was I that bad?”

He stands, taking your shoulders and leading you out front, into the freezing night air, and you’re shivering. He takes off his jacket and you throw it on the ground, glaring as he sighs, his head falling back. “You are great, I swear. It’s not the physical, it’s more… you’re so immature.”

You scoff now. “Me, immature? You can’t even do anything without trying to please your family, I do shit on my own.”

“Or with your friend?”

You scowl now. “Don’t you bring up Cho, it’s not like I’ve hung out with him one fucking bit. Because you’re so insecure. And he’s a far better man than you! He wouldn’t leave someone after… that.”

“Listen I know it was important to you, I just have to tell you, there’s someone else in my heart.” You gasp now, stepping back. “She’s been in my heart, and now she’s finally agreed to date me.”

“So I was a fucking placeholder? Could you not have fucked me then, because it really wasn’t shit.” He stumbles back now, glaring down at you. “Could have fucked someone much better.”

“You seemed to like it-”

“I faked it. You can’t make girls cum with no foreplay, fucking idiot.”

“I fingered you-”

“For two minutes. Yeah then you went like two minutes. No I didn’t cum, fucking idiot. But I was okay with that, we could like learn from each other. I thought our relationship was doing so well, I thought I was falling for you.” You feel your tears threaten now, and Ino sighs, holding your shoulders gently.

“You’re a beautiful, smart girl, and successful. You’ll have whoever you want.”

“But I was with you. Because I wanted to be. What did I do to fuck it up, will you just tell me?”

“You fucked nothing up. It’s just… shit.” His phone rings then, and you see a name on the caller ID, Ino’s ex. You glare now. “It’s not what you think.”

“Tell me you didn’t fuck her while you fucked me.”

“I didn’t, plus me and you used condoms.”

“And!? The point!?”

“Jesus, you’re so dramatic. She’s much easier.”

“Easier!” You shove him then, turning and stomping away, and Ino chases you, grabbing your wrists. “Fuck off.”

“Let me take you home, it’s freezing and you’re in heels. You can’t just walk, please I know I hurt you, but I can’t let you just walk alone in the night.” You glare through your tears back at him, and watch him gulp, as he takes breaths, cupping your face tenderly, but it’s disgusting to you. “You looked so perfect tonight, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I know you were excited.”

“Why ask me on a date to break up with me?” You ask, choking on your sobs, fuck you thought he was the sweetest, the relationship had consisted of him doing everything for you, he was kind and caring and gentle. And he’d said he was falling in love with you.

You waited five months to sleep with him, you were a virgin (thanks to pining away for popular Satoru Gojo most of your school life) and then after so long of being one, you’d figured you would wait. The only man who you’d thought of sleeping with was your best friend, Choso, not that you’d ever let him know, or anyone know, you’d shoved that down.

And fuck you want to see him, you miss him so much, since you both had quit hanging out, his girlfriend hates you, and Ino doesn’t like Choso. So you’d stopped talking, aside from Cho sweetly bringing you a coffee every morning at work, smiling down at you with his gorgeous grin, always decked out in some goth outfit that fit him like a glove.

You still watched his rock shows from the back, he didn’t notice you, but even if they both didn’t like you as friends, you’d made a promise in middle school to be friends forever. A pinky promise at that, and both you and Cho quietly kept that, even if he didn’t know that you were there, supporting him.

Long ago you’d hoped for a chance, but you’d been so blinded by a Satoru Gojo infatuation you think you let his opportunity slip, and then you decided you’d be his friend, and his friend only. And how you need him now, to hold you while you cry, to listen to you, to stroke your cheek with his tattooed hands, covered in that dark polish you used to paint for him.

You miss him, you miss your friend.

Ino is still talking, and leaning down, almost as if to kiss you, and you smack his face, making his mouth drop open. “What’s that for?”

“What are you doing?” You demand angrily, the cold night air doesn’t serve to cool you down, your skin is on fire.

“Kissing you goodbye.”

You laugh then, through your tears. “Oh hell no. Fuck off, and never talk to me, ever again.”

“We could be friends? I really do care for you.”

“I will never be your friend. Ever. Now let me go.” He does then, but as you try to walk away he’s following you. “Go!”

“Let me pay the bill and I’ll drive you. Or let me get you a ride, please, it’s not okay to let you go like this.” You roll your eyes at him, stomping away now.

“My life is none of your concern now. I’ll walk.”

You want to call Choso so damn bad, fuck… but you know he’s with Yuki, shit he was thinking of serious things with her, he’d been in love with her so long. You could not ruin that for him, or bring your problems to him, you all could not have that relationship anymore, you couldn’t be that close.

You’re sobbing as you look at his name in your phone, it was Cho Bear 💜 But Ino had gotten mad, so you’d just changed it to Choso. As you walk down this long street, your tears falling and freezing your cheeks, you change it then, smiling just a bit, back to Cho Bear 💜 Because, fuck Ino.

Then you keep walking, as it all starts to hit you, that Ino had taken your virginity, and fuck you made him wait so long you did not think he just wanted to fuck, no he wanted a relationship and you weren’t good enough, even though you tried to give him your everything. You were some placeholder for him until his ex-girlfriend took him back, it was all some time waster to him.

Sex the couple times you all did it was truly not good, it didn’t hurt or anything and he was gentle, but you didn’t get pleasure. You’d had to rub your clit to feel anything and then it was too quick for you to cum, having to bust out a rose toy later on each time, it was about four times you all had fucked. You assumed it would get better but it never did.

So you kind of turned him down a bit, and maybe that is why he didn’t want you, but you were still a good partner, you tried to just get him off instead though, because you wondered if something was wrong with you. Now you wonder if something was just wrong with him.

Not that you ever want a damn boyfriend again, but you wouldn’t mind actually fucking, it seems so wasted all these years, you’re twenty three and the last damn virgin you knew, aside from Cho, but you’re sure he fucked Yuki by now. And you’re sure that man can fuck something about those big ass hands and long fingers…

You shouldn’t think of him like that

He’s only your friend, and barely that now.

Your feet are aching as you near a movie theater, where you and Ino had your first date, and you break down then, on the sidewalk, shivering and holding yourself as sobs wrack your body. You’re so mad, so upset, you can barely stand it, shivering in the night and your feet want to die. You need to order a ride, but you’re shaking so bad it’s hard to hold your phone.

Suddenly, you hear it, your name, and it’s…

Is that Choso!?

Now you are sitting on Choso’s black leather couch in his living room, one of his shirts swallowing you. He’s huge, buff and muscular, and way taller than almost any guy you knew, his shirt hits your knees and he chuckles when he sees you in it. You’d washed your face, thankfully Choso kept your things under his sink still, fresh faced, eyes puffy, your hair in a bun with one of his pony tails.

His violet eyes light up when you all talk, past the horrible moments of both of your nights, and now you all are watching one of his dumb horror flicks, with the stupidest fake blood there was. You’re both sipping on ice cold beers, throwing your heads back with laughter, it feels so good, so comfortable you think, to relax, to be yourself.

You’d definitely tried to live up to Ino’s expectations, to what his ex was like, so put together and perfect, but with Choso you could be yourself, bare faced in a big Nirvana shirt. Choso wraps his arm around you then, and he’s bare chested, just his black sweats on, and you try to ignore how good his skin feels against yours, how good he smells, how good he feels altogether.

Choso was so handsome, tattoos across his ribs, bands of more tattoos on his shoulders, a partial sleeve on one arm that goes down to his hands. Big hands, one touching your waist, taking it over completely, your shirt scrunching as he’s laughing at a part of the movie. Your body reacts violently, more so than when he’d leaned across you to seat belt you in.

You can’t ruin this, you can’t.

But he’s got you wet just leaning close and laughing, grabbing the popcorn bowl and standing then, as your eyes drink in his body, the firm well formed pecs and flat brown nipples, his rippling abdomen. Your eyes dip to his dark trail of hair below his belly button, throat going dry, and why when you’ve seen him plenty over the years, you have always known he’s hot.

“Want another one, angel?” He asks, and the name makes you blush for some reason, as you nod shyly, fiddling with the edge of his shirt on your thighs.

“Yes, please. Thank you!” He saunters to his kitchen, bending down and you see the strong muscles of his back when he stands. He swipes his hair back as he hands you another, it’s loose and hits his collarbone, as he smiles softly at you, sitting back next to you again. “Damn Cho Bear, working out?”

“That nickname, shit it’s been a minute.” He sips on his beer, leaning back on the couch now, and you watch his Adam's apple bop up and down under a little bit of stubble that’s grown. “You look like you’re working out too.”

“Mmm, just a couple times a week, nothing like you. I only do the treadmill and read my books on the phone.” He laughs then.

“Reading porn while getting in steps?”

“Hey!” You shove at him a bit, then he sets both of your beers on his little glass table, tickling you now. You’re gasping for breath, twisting and turning as he’s grinning over you, fingers tickling your waist. “Stop, stop shit!”

“You’re so cute though. At my mercy.” He sticks out his tongue as he tickles you, and your eyes find his tongue ring fascinating for far too many reasons, as you overheat, and you realize he’s between your thighs. You tense now, since you didn’t even have on anything but crotchless panties you’d worn tonight, and he’s brushing against you.

He pauses then as well, looking down your body, hands gripping your waist gently, thumbs pressing into your rib cage, as he looks right at your breasts, visible under his shirt, the outline of them. He gulps and looks down further, to where his shirt had rode up your thighs, up to your hips, exposing black lace panties, that covered goddamn nothing.

He just stays there over you, his breath caught like yours, hands trembling now as he exhales, eyes looking back up at yours, his pupils so dilated, his pretty eyes look black, his eyes lidded and heavy suddenly. You arch your hips up just slightly, and he lets out a soft moan from the back of his throat as he looks there, as he sees you, a hand moving to press on your tummy.

“Cho, I’m not um… I’m wearing…”

“He didn’t fucking deserve to see that.” He whispers then, and your breaths come even quicker, as you’re slowly reaching a hand up to his chest, feeling his hot skin under your palm.

“He was my first.” You say softly, and he grimaces, shutting his eyes then.

“I’m looking at you like this, when you just… fuck I should be a better friend, I’m so sorry-” He leans back but you pause him, hands firm on his biceps now.

“I don’t mind. He was my first and I didn’t cum, like not once? I don’t know if he sucked or if I sucked. But it was pretty new, only a few times before he left.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve that. I know you wanted it special.” He says softly, leaning down, still over you, his hair falling softly on your skin, you brush it back, mind whirling.

“It’s okay, I know you are hurt too. Um, did you like sex though?” He is blushing now, looking away for a moment, nodding. “I guess I was turning him down and just getting him off because I didn’t. It’s kind of awful of me. Maybe-”

“It was that bad? Shit. Like he hurt you?” You shake your head. “Was he selfish? Not enough foreplay?”

“You seem so experienced now, we were the last virgins in Japan.” You tease with a smile, and he leans on an elbow now, laying on his side, a hand stroking your thigh before he stops himself, cursing. “It’s okay, I like it.”

“Are you sure?” You nod nervously, as he brushes his fingers up and down your thigh, and you whimper before you can stop, covering your mouth embarrassingly, as his lips part. “Fuck you’re sexy. Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No… um… Cho…” You lean up on your elbows then, bringing his attention back to your breasts, now outlined so well, he has to clear his throat, as his hand still rests on your thigh, above your knee. “Have you ever thought of fucking me?”

“Have I what!?” He sits up then, covering his face, and you panic, turning away and covering yours.

“Oh my god I’m so stupid, of course you haven’t, Yuki was your love, and I look nothing like her. And-”

He pauses you then, hands on your shoulders, and you can’t bear to look at him. “No, no, you’re beautiful, of course I have, I just got embarrassed, like you knew I have or something.”

“Y-you find me attractive?” You ask, not looking at him still, he has to tilt your head to him, sighing.

“Of course I do, I always have. There was a good three years of pining for you in high school, and you’ve just gotten hotter. But I never wanted to lose our friendship.”

You take a breath now, turning and looking up at him, a hand trailing down his abdomen, watching it flex under your touch. “So, what if we have sex, like maybe you can teach me things? And just sex, nothing else. No strings attached.”

“I’m in a dream.” You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I am, you’re in this shirt, looking so beautiful, asking me to fuck you?”

“Well, yes. I wanna get off and enjoy it. Also I don’t ever wanna date again, at least not any time soon. I imagine you don’t either.”

“Oh fuck no I don’t wanna date. I don’t think I can take that pain again.” You cup his face gently, and he kisses your palm, as you feel your pussy clench around nothing at just thinking of it. “You sure you wanna do this? You’re so new to sex.”

“You are too, though you seem to have had a better time.” You say with a giggle, and he tilts his head to the side.

“Did he not prep you at all?”

“Um, he fingered me for a minute. But I was really dry, and it’s not dry when I play with myself.” Choso’s bright red now, his eyes bugging out. “Shit, TMI?”

“I mean…” He clears his throat, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, then back at you. “No, if we do this I think we should be so honest, we’re best friends we can really do that.”

“Exactly! Give each other instruction, on our bodies. Right, and I’m comfortable with you, you’d never hurt me.” You say with a soft smile, as you scooch closer, and you hear his breath catch, his hands trembling a bit as you take one, putting it on your chest, where your heart races. “Just sex, and no feelings. Any other rules?”

“Yes, if you find someone else, please tell me.”

“Of course, and same with you! Honesty all around.”

“Pinky swear?” He holds one out, and you giggle, nodding, wrapping your finger with his, then you’re both sitting there, his other hand still on your chest. “Did he not eat you out?”

It’s your turn to blush. “No, he licked it for a second before the first time, but I am not sure it counts.”

“And no one has?” You shake your head again, and now his hands slide down your body, pressing into your hips, he watches you gasp, your head leaning back, eyes fluttering shut. Your body has never felt like this, never responded this way. “So I have a request then, for us to do this.”

“Of course, anything you want, Cho Bear.” Anything for him to keep touching you, fuck he’s leaning down now, and you can’t take it, seeing sweet Cho Bear so sexy. You knew it was there, but you’d never seen it.

“Let me pleasure you only tonight, then we’ll do more if you really like it.”

“But I wanna do things too!” You pout, and he smiles, leaning even closer, his lips a breath away, noses touching.

“You can next time. I wanna see how many times I can make you cum, as a friend you know.” He whispers against your ear, Choso Kamo, Cho Bear, your sweet little best friend…

Fuck he’s grown up, huh?

And fuck he’s turning you on breathing against your cheek more than Ino did touching you, fucking you. Your body eagerly reacts, to the point it’s ridiculous, but you nod then, shyly. He chuckles a bit, as he picks you up suddenly, and he’s carrying you like you’re nothing, so strong and big, to his room, all goth and decked out in music posters, his guitars lined on his wall.

He lays you down on the center of his bed, with dark red blankets, fingering the hem of your shirt. “Are you comfy taking it off? I really would love to see you, but not if you’re nervous.”

He’s so goddamn sweet you think, how dare Yuki be such a bitch to your best friend, you think. You nod nervously, raising his shirt over your head now, baring yourself to him for the first time, and you can’t meet his pretty eyes. You hear him moan softly, and your eyes look at him, where he’s staring at you hungrily, running a hand through his hair.

“Fuck you’re so pretty. So perfect I… fuck.” He leans over you again, the bed springs creaking under his weight, and your nipples press against his chest. “Is it cool if we kiss first? Is it too romantic?”

“I’d like to kiss you.” You respond, and he moans again, that sound makes you even wetter, as he’s kissing you for the first time, and you melt at it, at his sweet firm lips, so gently brushing yours. He gently does it again, and again, as your tongue darts between his lips, craving more. He cups your face, pulling back.

“You’re so beautiful.” You get emotional suddenly, after the horrible rejection, this sexy ass best friend of yours, who you love so much, makes you feel so seen and so noticed. “Is that cool to say?”

“Yes, it’s good with me. Thank you Cho, you’re handsome, so handsome.” He’s blushing again, so cute you think, kissing you softly, before he’s between your thighs, and now kissing a trail down your throat. “Ah!”

“You taste sweet.” He says against your skin. “I talk alot, um if it’s annoying tell me to-”

“Choso, no I love it. You couldn’t - ah- annoy me, oh! Mmm!” He’s sucking on a nipple now, looking up under those long black lashes, as you feel the cool ball of his tongue ring on your nipple. You’re getting so wet, and gasp when he finds your clit, swirling with his thumb, and he pulls back, eyes seductive as he looks down at you.

“You’re so wet, fuck that’s sexy.” He murmurs, fingering the sticky mess, and you’re shifting your thighs for more, whining out. “And those sounds you make, oh my god.”

“Cho… please, touch me more?” You ask, and he nods eagerly, slipping a thick finger inside your eager entrance, and you’re crying out just from that, as he presses up and hits some spot that makes you gasp, seeing stars. “Cho, what!?”

“Your G spot, pretty. It’s - ah- there, mmm.” He’s leaning lower, kissing your tummy as he keeps pressing, now pumping his finger in and out, and you’re dripping down all Choso’s black rings, so wet you hear yourself, your hands now clutching the blankets tightly. “Look at you, you’re so perfect, perfect pussy.”

“Cho!” You don’t expect this, him talking so dirty, when you’ve known Choso as this sweet, innocent thing. But fuck he’s hot, as he’s sinking two fingers now, and you wince just a bit at the stretch.

“So tiny, want just one?” He asks, but you shake your head.

“I can take two.” You whisper, earning his smirk, it’s not a sweet Cho Bear smile, it’s seductive and sure, as he shoves two fingers in, and you scream out, as he’s kissing your soft tummy, then lower, and you feel yourself closer and closer to the edge. “Oh my… s’good I…”

“Two of my fingers aren't like normal, are they angel?” He whispers, and you shake your head in agreement.

“Thick.”

“Mmm, why don’t you cum on my fingers first, let me feel you pulsing.”

“Pulsing- wh- what- ah! Fuck!” You scream out then, feeling so intense you can’t take it, overwhelmed as he’s scissoring his two thick fingers, looking at you hungrily, and then he rubs his thumb on your clit, making you shatter. You cum all over his fingers, soaking his entire hand, as your orgasm washes over you. “Oh my god fuckfuckfuck!”

He’s moaning then, leaning up and kissing you, exhaling his sweet breath against your lips as you’re trembling violently, eyes rolled back when he slips his fingers out, still pulsing out wetness. He sucks you off his fingers then, moaning and rolling his violet eyes back, his strong cheekbones more pronounced as his cheeks hollow. Your mouth drops open at how sexy he looks, as your pussy aches.

“So yummy, I knew it.” He whispers, kissing you again, and you taste yourself, heating up more as he’s pressed between your thighs, you feel how hard he is under his sweats, and fuck he feels huge, too. You grind up and he pauses you, inhaling sharply. “Fuck don’t do that.”

“S-sorry, oh my god what was that!?” He grins then, sliding down until his face is between your thighs, and he’s spreading your lips apart, staring right at you. Your thighs close but he stops them. “Cho…”

“That was a warm up. Are you ready for me to taste you?” He asks, constantly asking permission, which touches you, and you nod then, so nervous. “Good, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

“A good girl Choso you’re a freak now? Oh my, ah! Mnh!” Now he’s sliding his tongue up your slit, and you’re jerking, hips bucking up, as he’s spreading your thighs wide with his big hands, pressing into the plush of your thighs, and sliding his tongue up to your clit now, which twitches under his tongue ring. “Choso Kamo! Choso you’re… that tongue ring!? What the fuck, holding out on a friend.”

He laughs against you, breath tickling you, taking one of your hands then, putting it on his head. “I’ll make up for it and get my best friend off so much she’ll pass out if she pulls my hair.”

“Pull it? Like this?” You pull gently, and his eyes flutter shut, white teeth biting a lower lip. “You sure, it’s okay?”

“I want you to put me there please?” He asks softly, eyes big, pouting all cute, making you giggle. “Put me where you want me, and fuck my face till you cum.”

“I don’t know where!”

“I’ll lick, and you pull my hair and press my face into that spot you like, sounds good?” You nervously nod, and then his tongue is fucking devouring you, you hear the sounds of him drinking you in the night, completely lewd, the squishing obscene, and you’re a mess, screaming out as he hits your clit again.

“There, please! Is it really okay-” He nods, moaning, and you’re yanking on his hair, shoving him against your pussy, as your thighs are on either side of his handsome face. He’s moaning as you do, grinding against the bed, flicking his tongue so fast you cum even harder than his fingers, and his tongue ring is flicking on your clit now, the sensation making you gush out.

You’re so overwhelmed as your toes curl, as your eyes roll back, and you’re grinding your hips against his face, and he’s sliding his hands to your ass, gripping the fat of it and yanking you closer, burying his face further, sucking your clit into his mouth, and making you fall apart again. Your hands are enwrapped in his silken hair, as his eyes look up at you then.

Your heart falters in your chest then, as he’s sucking on your clit, vibrating it with his moans, and your orgasm washes over you in waves, you stop pulling his hair, instead you’re gently holding his face as your hips roll back, overstimulated now. He takes a breath as he watches you, finally leaning up, the lower half of his face covered in your slick.

You’re a twitching mess, tears in your eyes when he licks his lips, smiling up at you now. “You all right, Angel, too much?”

“It’s a lot but holy fuck. It’s amazing.” You say softly, earning his grin brightening his face, as your emo best friend lights up, between your thighs. “How do you breathe like that!?”

He chuckles. “It’s a talent. Do I really have to stop, I wanna get you off more.” He pouts again, and you’re barely able to stand when he kisses your pussy again, he’s so good you’re just infuriated Yuki got this, that anyone did, it’s that good.

“I’m so sensitive- mmm!”

“Good, one more for me could you please? You’re so yummy, please.” You giggle then, breathless, your body on fire at how good you feel.

“Oh god, I mean a little more. You’re way too good at this, I’ve never even gotten myself off that good.”

“How do you get yourself off?” You blush even as he’s kissing the lips of your pussy.

“Um, rose toy. But that tongue ring of yours? Hits so much better.” He’s kissing your pussy over and over, sliding his finger back in, you’re so soaked it’s stupid, a mess under your best friend, and his eyes crinkle just a bit as he smiles up at you.

“You look so sexy when you cum.” You’re covering your face nervously, and he laughs softly, pulling them down by the wrists. “You do.”

“You don’t have to say all that.”

“I mean it. I would never say what I don’t mean.” You get emotional again, you don’t know if it’s the night, or how hard you’ve released all that tension built up, or if it’s… if it’s Choso, looking at you like that.

Friend, friend, friend.

Right?

You can keep it casual, if anyone can it’s you and Choso.

Right?

“Only if you want more, of course.”

“Oh, I might pass out. But yes, please.” Choso smiles again, and dives back down, now he’s using his finger and hitting your spot, and lavishing your clit with his tongue, as his free hand slips up and squishes a breast in his big hand, and you’re gasping for breath as all of your senses focus on pleasure, fading out your vision, your grip of reality.

Fuck you’re not mad he ate Yuki out, you’re furious Choso ever ate anyone out but you, and you’re so mad you had been just missing this for all these years. He’s so good you wanna confess love from just how he’s flicking his tongue back and forth, how he’s pinching your nipples, and you’re clinging to his wrist now, bringing a finger to your lips, sucking on them.

He’s moaning, fingering you and lifting his mouth up as you do, as you stroke your mouth up and down, swirling your tongue, and his violet eyes glint in the night, his soft sounds from his throat making you wonder how he sounds when he cums. How he looks when he busts, how he tastes, as you suck on thick fingers, and Choso flicks his tongue one more time, and you scream around them.

You’re barely able to focus as he slides up you, and you’re crying out, as he settles between them, watching you with hungry eyes, as you pull back with a pop, blushing. “It seemed hot to do?”

“So fucking hot, shit.” He whispers, kissing you over and over now. “Are you okay angel?”

“Yes I’m better than okay, I’ve never felt like this. I should have asked for this sooner.”

“Well, we both were lovesick. Weren’t we?” He’s laying on his side, propped up on an elbow, rubbing his hand up and down your hips and waist as you turn to your side too.

“We were, and I’m done, Cho, I’m so done with relationships. I think this could be perfect, and we don’t have to change.”

“You really did change, I noticed. Not that I don’t like you dressing girly, but it’s a little different than I’m used to.”

“I know you also were trying to be so much more… serious?”

“She said not manly enough.”

“You’re manly as fuck. You’re just also sweet, and open. You don’t care about society shit, fucking love that about you. Don’t you dare change, not when you get a girl again. Promise?”

“You promise too, you’re so perfect. And if I can say…” He leans close now, and you feel yourself react, every inch of your skin sensitive. “You have the yummiest, prettiest pussy ever.”

“Oh stop! Flattering me huh?”

“No, it’s true. You do. He’s so stupid.”

“She’s so stupid.”

“Can I kiss you after or should we keep it to… like a prelude to playing? I really like kissing you.” You feel your heart stop, because every time you kiss Choso, you feel something you never have. You don’t know if it’s desire, chemistry… it’s dangerous but when he asks like that? When you want it too?

“You can, I like it alot too. But… let’s just make sure we um keep it around sex I guess? Before or after?”

“That works for me.” He kisses you softly, brushing your hair back, until it gets more heated, and your teeth are clicking, tongues wrapping, dripping saliva between you both. You’re moaning softly, and he’s gripping you so tight, your hand slides down his stomach, but he stops it.

“Cho, lemme suck you. I kind of know how!”

“Well that’s one thing I didn’t do.”

“What!? How did she not?”

“I asked you the same.” You roll your eyes.

“Did we have shitty lovers?”

He laughs softly. “Selfish ones. You can try that tomorrow, just let me have a night where it’s about you.”

His words and how he says them touch you so deeply you can’t help but have tears fall, and he frowns in concern as he brushes them away.

“Am I too much, I know I can be-”

“You’re perfect, it was just sweet is all. I’m tired and buzzed, and just came so much I think I’m fucked up.” He’s kissing your forehead now, nodding as he helps you sit up now. “I should probably sleep, I’m still emotional, I think.”

“Do you want the bed?” He asks, grabbing your shirt and sliding it over your body slowly. Him dressing you feels almost as intimate as undressing. He sits next to you on the bed, tilting his head, and you try to remember it, friends, friends, friends.

Best friend ever, best mouth ever.

But, best friends.

“We could cuddle or is that weird?” He brings it up then, and you contemplate it for a moment.

“Cuddle buddies huh?”

“I’m such a good cuddler.”

“Okay, we can try but I get hot at night. And kick all the blankets. And roll in circles. And-”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

“No!”

“Uh huh. We can sleep separately, maybe it’s too weird?”

“Yeah maybe. Maybe just in the same bed?”

“Sure, sounds good to me. Let me get you some water.” He comes back with a glass of ice water, and you sip greedily, sighing.

“You’re the best friend ever, Choso Kamo.” He’s grinning as he lays next to you, popping a big body pillow between you, wrapping his arms and legs, and fuck you want to be that pillow, but you worry it would make things so complicated.

“You’re the best friend, fuck I thought I’d be a wreck tonight. Thank you.” He says softly, brushing a thumb down your cheek.

“Thank you! For… well shit a lot. I’m so mad I’ve missed out on this mouth this long, I think I’ll be mad when I can’t get it.” He blushes again, as you hold the hand on your cheek now.

“I don’t think I’ll date any time soon, so don’t worry.”

“Same. And I have a favor to return in the morning.”

“I can’t say I’m not stupidly excited. I hurt.”

“Cho, I can do it now!”

“You go to sleep. I told you, I want it about you.” He yawns then, covering his mouth and then shutting his eyes, and you admire his perfect features for a moment, brushing his hair back and he practically purrs, making you smile.

It takes a long time to sleep, tossing and turning a bit, as the thoughts of Ino have faded to goddamn near nothing, and you’re sleeping next to your best friend, thinking how sweet it would be in his arms. This was your idea, and was it insane, could you all truly do this? You think it’s worth finding out.

You sleep finally when Choso has thrown his body pillow and snuggled against you, kissing your cheek. You giggle as you snuggle into his warm embrace, feeling so comfortable suddenly. “You look like you need cuddles.”

“I guess I do. Good night, best friend. Little Cho Bear.” You tease softly, and he smiles against your neck, snuggling under the blankets he’s thrown over you both.

“Good night, Angel.”

Angel, why does the name make your pulse race?

You can’t wonder too long, as sleep drifts you off in his arms.

Surely it won’t be too complicated, right?

Tag List: @erencvlt @antisocialinlw @aquamarine001 @makingtimemine @maskedpacific @mima0127 @yxnnu @teacupwaifu @lana18918 @bigbird789 @angellliqua @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @aldebrana @staygoldsquatchling02 @bts-psycho @lillycore @mysticalnightbeliever @wystriz @jazzthatonewriterchick @yung-notorious @tokyolhtl @imabyssa @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @ivyvenus333 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21

(Taglist open- excited to hear what ya'll think, this was a long one!)

Chapter Two is here!

#choso x reader #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x female reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x female reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen #choso fic #jjk fic

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hummingbird24220 · 2 months ago

Note

Hi hi hi hiiii!

May i request... Some funny shenanigans in Arabastra where Strawhat!reader is simpin for the Croco? 👀😳 Kinda...crack-adjecent 🤭 Like... "You come here often?" while being stuck in a cage or "What can that hook do?" before it reveals to have a poison kind of stupid?

Please please with a banana on top? 💜

Yes. Yessss. Not really plot-adjacent - this is not really plot adjacent but hey ho - im here for croc, not plot accuracy.

Sand Daddy Issues

One piece x reader (reader simping for croccy)

It was a hot, dry day in Alabasta. You were dehydrated. You were sunburnt. You were in a literal cage suspended above a pit of banana gators.

And yet…

“Okay but like, hear me out,” you said, clutching the iron bars and watching as Sir Crocodile dramatically turned to leave, “does anyone else think he’s kinda... hot?”

Smoker made a choked noise. Nami turned slowly to stare at you like you just licked a cactus.

Zoro let out a suffering sigh. “I’d say you’ve lost your mind, but I’m pretty sure you never had one.”

“He’s the enemy,” Nami hissed.

“He’s got eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man,” you whispered reverently, leaning your cheek against the bars. “And I, for one, respect that.”

Crocodile paused halfway down the stairs, clearly hearing that. He didn’t turn around.

Usopp yanked you away from the bars. “Have you SEEN the size of his hook?!”

“I KNOW, right?” you whispered back with a dangerous sparkle in your eyes.

“No—I meant—it’s poisonous!!” Usopp panicked.

Luffy, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the cage, tilted his head. “You wanna date him or fight him?”

You lifted a finger. “Yes.”

Zoro facepalmed so hard he nearly gave himself a concussion. “We are going to die in this cage, and the last thing I’m gonna hear is you thirsting over a Warlord.”

“You say that like it’s not completely valid,” you replied. “He’s rich, he's powerful, and he wears fur in the desert. That’s commitment. That’s fashion. That’s—”

“Insanity,” Smoker growled from the corner of the cage. “You damn pirates are all insane.”

“Oh c’mon, Smokey,” you said sweetly. “Don't tell me you’ve never looked at him and thought ‘I bet that hook could—’”

“I will dropkick you into the sand,” he interrupted.

“I welcome that energy,” you said with a wink.

Suddenly the floor beneath the cage rumbled.

Everyone looked down at once.

Zoro cursed. “Banana gators.”

You looked down too, then up at the ceiling, clasping your hands. “Dear sweet Croco-daddy, please don't let me die before I get to ask if you're single.”

Crocodile finally turned around, exasperated.

“You done?” he drawled.

You smiled brightly. “That depends. You free Friday?”

“WE’RE IN A CAGE!” Nami yelled, shoving you.

Luffy laughed. “This is fun.”

Zoro started trying to bend the bars with his bare hands.

Smoker tried to light a cigar and nearly choked on the rage.

Usopp curled into a ball.

And you? You leaned toward Crocodile and whispered through the bars with a sultry grin:

“So uh… you come here often?”

You weren’t sure what was more terrifying: the banana gators below, the creaking sound the cage kept making, or the fact that Crocodile still hadn’t said no to your flirting.

“Well?” you said hopefully, gripping the bars like a maiden in a tragic play. “If you’re gonna feed us to the gators, can you at least tell me your favorite flower first?”

Crocodile raised a brow. “Why?”

“So I can haunt you properly.”

That actually got a snort out of him. A real one. A Warlord-of-the-Sea-smirking-at-your-bad-flirting kind of snort.

“I prefer silence,” he said, but there was amusement dancing in his voice. The bastard was enjoying this.

Next to him, Nico Robin covered her mouth as if yawning, but you saw the smile behind her hand.

“She likes you,” Robin said casually, voice as smooth as sand through fingers.

“I respect him,” you corrected, with the sincerity of someone about to perish and still down bad. “And maybe also wanna braid his hair a little.”

“You’re insane,” Smoker muttered. “This is a hostage situation.”

“She’s mentally unwell,” Nami added.

“I think it’s romantic!” Luffy said helpfully.

Crocodile made a little hum in his throat and gestured with one sharp wave of his hook. “Leave them. Let the banana gators line up. One by one.”

“Oh! Like a buffet,” you chirped, nodding. “Very organized. Love that.”

He looked back over his shoulder, meeting your eyes. “Try not to scream too loud. It’s unpleasant.”

“Depends on the reason I’m screaming,” you said, entirely too suggestively.

Zoro audibly gagged. Usopp started praying to every god he knew. Smoker tried to chew his cigar into dust.

And with that, Crocodile turned and left, cape billowing. Robin gave you a tiny finger wave as she followed, definitely amused.

The gators below growled.

“…He totally stayed to listen,” you said a moment later, peering down the corridor.

“FOCUS,” Nami yelled.

The gators were starting to line up like actual dinner guests at a five-course buffet.

Cue: panic.

And then—ka-chunk—something rustled in the corner of the pit. A familiar mop of black hair appeared in the shadows.

“Hmm? This door was unlocked,” said Sanji’s voice.

“SANJI!!!” you all screamed.

He looked up at the cage, blinking. “Oh, look at that. Caged birds. And my lovely caged angel—wait, WHY is she leaning out like she’s waiting for a date?”

“She’s looking for Crocodile,” Zoro groaned. “She thinks he’s her boyfriend now.”

“He might be!” you said defensively. “Did you see the way he looked back? That was at least a third-date look.”

Before anyone could argue further, the floor shifted again.

A geyser of wax exploded from the floor as Mr. 3 was forcibly thrown into the pit by the very gator who’d eaten him. Chaos exploded. Banana gators roared. Usopp screamed like a haunted kettle.

You?

You were still cupping your hands around your eyes, peering dramatically into the distance.

“…Guys. I swear he’s still watching.”

“You mean Crocodile?” Sanji asked.

You nodded dreamily.

Smoker stared at you like he was about to launch himself out of the cage just to get away. “You’re delusional.”

“I prefer ‘dangerously charming,’” you replied.

The casino was crumbling.

You were running full speed through smoke, debris, and the echo of banana gators throwing tantrums. Nami was screaming something about “go left, LEFT—NO YOUR OTHER LEFT!” and Sanji was dropkicking a Baroque Works goon off your tail.

You, meanwhile, were having a very unfortunate moment of reflection.

“…So like. I get it now.”

“Not now,” Nami hissed.

“No, no, let me say this,” you insisted, ducking a falling ceiling tile. “I understand that yes, Crocodile is technically the villain. Like, warlord, attempted coup, sand powers of biblical proportions, poison hook, et cetera—I got it.”

Usopp wheezed. “Now?! You’re having a moral reckoning now?!”

“I’m saying I recognize that I went a bit too hard. Maybe I projected a little. Maybe I simp for rugged men with criminal tendencies and broad shoulders. I’m not proud, but I’m honest.”

Zoro, already fed up, turned mid-sprint just to smack the back of your head.

“OW—”

“You deserved that,” he said flatly.

“Maybe you should get more scars,” you muttered, rubbing your head. “Then maybe you’d make the cut.”

Sanji let out the loudest “TCH—” you’d ever heard in your life and nearly walked into a wall in protest. “Don’t you DARE compare that lizard freak to us.”

“Why not?” you shot back. “Crocodile appreciated me. He smirked. He lingered. He fed us to gators, but like—gently.”

Zoro looked like he was going to smack you again.

Smoker, running behind with Vivi, shouted, “If you ever say ‘gently’ and ‘fed us to gators’ in the same sentence again, I’m arresting you on principle.”

Vivi gasped between breaths. “He tried to kill my father!”

“I said I get it!” you said, holding your arms out. “I’m just… processing. I have a type, okay? I like rugged, dangerous men with mysterious pasts and possibly trench coats.”

Luffy, riding a broken door like a skateboard past the collapsing hallway, shouted, “Ooh! That sounds like Zoro!”

Zoro visibly recoiled. “Do not drag me into this!”

You placed a hand on your heart dramatically. “All I’m saying is—if Crocodile ever reforms and opens a beachside bar, I am first in line.”

Nami shoved you into a doorway just as a chandelier fell where you were standing. “And if you don’t shut up, I will personally bury you in the desert.”

You let out a deep sigh as the team stumbled out into the sunlight, coughing and covered in dust. “It’s okay. I know it’s over. It was never meant to be…”

Everyone relaxed for a second.

“…But maybe he’s watching from a dune somewhere. Just like—‘Ah, there goes that oddly charming disaster of a Straw Hat.’”

“I’m gonna throw you back inside,” Zoro muttered.

You stood on tiptoe and shouted toward the horizon.

“WAIT, TELL CROCO I LOVE HIM—”

A shoe hit you in the head. You didn’t know whose.

You weren’t sure how you got separated from the crew.

One minute you were arguing with Nami about whether it was technically a crush or a “psychological fascination with morally grey authority figures,” and the next, you were on a racing lizard, yelling directions like you knew where the hell Alubarna even was.

Your mouth was dry, your brain was dry, and your heart—tragically—was still moist for a certain Warlord.

You tumbled off the lizard when it reared near the palace gates. The streets were a warzone: rebels screaming, royal guards holding the line, Vivi’s voice echoing somewhere in the fray—but you?

You were disoriented. Sun-stroked. Dusty. Maybe dying.

And then—you saw him.

Sir Crocodile. Standing at the palace steps like the world belonged to him. Cape flowing. Hook glinting. Sand swirling dramatically like some desert-themed anime intro.

You squinted, wiped the dust from your face, and muttered:

“…Goddamn, he really is majestic.”

With no better plan, you staggered toward him, dusting yourself off and clearing your throat like you belonged there. His guards turned—tensed—but Crocodile held up a hand.

He looked you over.

“…You,” he said flatly.

“Me,” you breathed. “Back for round two.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Your crew escaped. Why are you here?”

“Distraction,” you said smoothly, pulling yourself up with all the poise you could muster. “The Straw Hats are all over the city. I figured I’d come by and… stall you.”

His brow lifted slightly. “By throwing yourself at me?”

“That’s phase one,” you said with a grin. “Phase two was gonna be seduction, but we’re on a tight schedule.”

He actually smirked. “You’re insane.”

You leaned on a column. “So I’ve been told. Repeatedly. In different languages.”

He stepped closer. “You’re lucky I find this entertaining.”

“Oh, I’m not lucky,” you said. “I’m charming. Big difference.”

You both paused in the eye of the storm. It was the closest thing to peace you’d had in hours.

Then, casually—too casually—Crocodile said, “By the way. I killed your captain. Straw Hat is dead.”

…

You blinked.

“That,” you said after a beat, “is a massive red flag.”

He arched a brow.

“I mean damn, Croco-Bae,” you said, backing up with a hand on your hip. “I know I like ‘em toxic, but that’s straight-up un-dateable behavior.”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” he said, voice low now, dangerous.

You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. But I was flirting, dude. You don’t just drop murder news mid-banter. That’s—bad form.”

And then he lunged.

You just barely dodged the first sand swipe, rolling across the sandstone tiles. He didn’t hesitate now—he came at you with the full weight of a Warlord, hook whistling through the air.

You pulled your weapon (a sad excuse of a sword/bo staff/whatever you had left after the explosion) and braced.

“You know what?” you shouted, ducking another attack. “This is why you’re single!”

He scoffed. “I prefer it.”

You threw a rock at his head.

He vaporized it with sand.

You screamed in frustration. “I WAS GONNA GIVE YOU A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET!”

“You were going to die!”

“I CAN MULTITASK!!”

Sand began to swirl dangerously around you both as his patience evaporated like water in the desert. Your stance was slipping. You weren’t a match—not really. But you weren’t going down simping.

At least not loudly.

You weren’t gonna win.

Not against him. Not in this state. You were sun-fried, bruised, cracked down the middle like a clay pot with too many metaphors, and Crocodile’s hook was swinging straight for your gut.

There was a woosh of sand, and you thought: Damn. He really is a 10… but so is arsenic.

You braced for the hit—

—and did get hit.

Just not by the hook.

A fist covered in haki, rage, and the sheer force of friendship collided with Crocodile’s smug jaw.

“YOU’RE NOT HURTING MY CREW!!!” Luffy shouted, voice pure fire.

You collapsed sideways in the sand, hook wound slicing deep across your side. It hurt. A lot. But it didn’t feel... final. Which, honestly, was a surprise.

You blinked up at the sky as Luffy went feral on Crocodile in the distance, fists flying, sand exploding, chaos reborn.

And all you could think was:

“…Okay but like… if he’d just not tried to murder everyone…”

You laughed softly to yourself—blood loss chuckle edition.

“…It could’ve worked out.”

And then you passed out.

Much Later...

You woke up in a bed too soft for the desert, draped in gauze and bad decisions.

The palace ceiling loomed above you. Golden light filtered through clean windows. Somewhere nearby, birds chirped, probably unaware that you almost had a villain redemption arc through sheer thirst.

You groaned.

Everything ached.

Your side was bandaged tight, your arms bruised, and your brain felt like someone had replaced it with a dried-out sponge.

You blinked slowly.

“…Did we win?”

“Unfortunately,” came Zoro’s voice from nearby.

You turned your head just in time to see him walk into view—arms crossed, scowl heavy, that very particular “you’re-an-idiot-and-I-care-about-you” aura rolling off him.

“You survived,” he added, sounding mildly disappointed. “Which is impressive considering you tried to flirt your way through a boss battle.”

“It was strategic distraction,” you croaked.

Zoro walked over.

Slapped you gently—but firmly—on the head.

“OW—DUDE?!”

“That’s for going through a full-on Crocodile romance arc without backup.”

“I WAS LONELY AND HE HAD A CAPE,” you shouted, immediately regretting it as your side flared with pain.

He sat down beside the bed with a long sigh. “You’re lucky Luffy got there in time.”

“…Did he win?”

“Yeah. Beat Crocodile’s smug ass into the dirt. He’s gone. Poof. Sandboy evaporated.”

You sighed.

“…Shame. I liked the eyeliner.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“I’m healing,” you corrected, turning your head toward the sun-drenched window. “Emotionally and physically.”

Zoro snorted. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“Yeah. I also lost a 6’6 warlord with a hook hand and issues. I think the wound to the soul is worse.”

He picked up your pillow and lightly smacked you with it.

“Get some rest, idiot.”

You closed your eyes, smiling faintly.

“…Tell Croco I still think about him sometimes.”

“I’m telling Chopper to drug you.”

#x reader #one piece #reader insert #luffy #sanji #nami #nico robin #usopp #tony tony chopper #request #sir crocodile #crocodile one piece

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