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the-firebird69 · 2 years

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This is extremely awesome cuz I'm a realizing something you're doing all this stuff bothering his family when they're gone they probably still around somewhere picking us off and we don't care just saying that and then go off and look for stuff and die they're terrific good he says

Well there are several things happening here when is the atom of these stupid bugs again they were going after them for it.

They talk back and have a safe stuff in space we're going after them

They continue doing it we just keep doubling it until they shut up and we've been doing it for a while they just keep doing it and we keep taking their money and keep hitting them

I've got about 450,000 people trying to get in punta Gorda yeah probably let half in cuz we're so sick of this crew it's about 10 million people trying to get into Charlotte county and 200 billion to Florida same thing there we're clearing Tallahassee again it's probably the 10th time I get one or two in each time all of them are dead

You tried Stars here locally and Trump's areas and it works so we're doing a globally now azog is a favorite they go running at him faster than anything you've ever seen answer to think about something I know how to push it and get it done and he's still happy about it slightly amazed boy that's a great idea he hasn't sometimes Hera a lot Freya a lot. Feel that things are happening but the Stars program is up and running and we're also putting in castles after after a certain point at a certain point of draining and we are also installing walls around these creeps

We're taking all their stuff too all their belongings everything they've had and everything they took who wear it around and we show them and they go nuts and they have to have it back and they die. I took his red shirt cuz he's a trump and he ran out right at us full blast is a Dan actually and he fell over and broke his nose went up into his brain and he passed out and he grabbed him and he could be gone we're not sure and back at the same time

Huge piles of bodies are outside town well they're about 100 mi away and they're mostly more lock and they're probably 10x10x10 much larger than before and we're done with them right into the camera and eventually the monster will rise. There's about 200 trillion people dying almost a minute out here it's a lot of people and it is a giant number around the lake Okeechobee they're all fighting it's about 10 octillion an hour is a huge number and the blockade is coming down again and warlock last about 4,000 additional octillion it's a huge number today almost $30,000 up to there can't be many more than I think we have estimates that we know it's kind of nerve-racking for people who can't estimate it but he's saying about 170,000 and I see that could be about right that's good remembered it and it's going to plummet tonight and there is something going on in the totuga and that area in region will be extremely hot tonight probably lose another 4 -8k octillion. And Trump we're going to hit you now you got to leave your dead and your buddies.

And they're going after the basis again probably 100 octillion an hour and then it's going to increase in total to about 4,000 octillion an hour tonight very soon globally mostly more lock. By tomorrow morning it might be they at about 1:30 and if they find out to be that small it's going to reduce rapidly. Donald Trump is having trouble in DC his name is not carrying the weight it used to and they're fighting him over the banks because he took over the banks didn't tell anybody and they're curious about the comment Empire and what he did there and recent news about him and George are peaking everybody's interest and he is under a lot of scrutiny soon they're going to go after him a lot harder they see what he's doing actually it's up there and he was up there too long just trying to get back to his ships you see the characters in parts of the Caribbean they understand it and they understand that he was up there when George was in his fight with huge ships so they think it was him and it most likely was the seated the surgeries and was getting him back.

There's a giant contingent coming from Europe of ships and they're not more like and the more like spent all they had bust in the blockade down and the Europeans are now trying Russians some Chinese and Africans and on the west the blockade is hammered and it's China and Russia Africa and Pakistan India in the Middle East tons of them and it's a huge huge flotilla gigantic and it might force in the fleet which they need to take a look at and it is a giant night so more like a full of hatred because they can't stand our son so we're going to secure them slaughter them and we have stars up each star gets about a million of them an hour and that's a lot so he's kind of really sick of these idiots like we are and he's wondering if we need them around at all there's way too many and I'd like to stop them from cloning so we're thinking about something if we brought up all of the rough ones into Stars and or at least a portion they could go back or we could bring some others back raise them up I'll look for volunteers they don't necessarily have to be high rank actually I'm going to put a request out for volunteers for stars now I like the inundate their area and put one in like every four city blocks or less and Jack them up back them up and get them in there I'm going to huge list of volunteers all of them have done service and they're doing different jobs and wanted to get back into it they want to hit him bad I'm very frustrated and I'm saying yes to all of them and they're suiting up momentarily this will make a big dent probably 20,000 and that will make a big dent yeah and we'll do it as often as possible and we have to raid. It says in combination with fortresses it should do a lot more this they can know and go out in you swiss cheese and area and you rate it raid and you draw back to the castles and they'll come pouring in then you swiss cheese it again and I'm starting to see something it's a different method it's much more aggressive and it works so we've done it and we get a whole ton of them we can make swiss cheese and a huge area and they come in and raid we're going to do that we're going ahead and prepping it it's a huge idea and with these guys that works pretty good that's so damn dumb he wants to do something unique he says if there's an area it's a little bit harder with the Trump a holes has zoom in there and get in town and zoom out go back to California so we did that today I'm not really sure what happened a lot of them saw it now if you did they don't believe it it has another trumpster now it's 10 again that's a few of them so we're going to go after him here I'll get in a cop uniforms. Those tons of construction going on tonight get huge roadways for doing giant buildings in the Miami area and others like Orlando you can work at night huge numbers of them we got about 5 million buildings that were building in Florida and 2 million of them are going up at night huge ones too and we can use our methods all new and go up very quickly as our son knows and they're actually ready to go out they'll be real surprised it goes up faster than theirs and we have two or three million more it will start tonight with a pads and tomorrow will start putting them up and people are going to start having us build stuff and it's going to be crazy here this is so much stuff and tons more people that's going to work down below and put in huge basis much bigger than before and larger than yours but the smallest one is twice as big and we're going to town I can't stand these assholes anymore and we're going to have to do something like put a tube in. We're here most of it goes into it but we don't believe it I checked it and no he's getting absorbed by the other ones around it so we're going to intubate it's doing decided to and we was just trying to say when I got to do it shortly same with Godzilla it's more important with Godzilla and we're going to do that shortly

Those monsters are gigantic we have several things else going on and they're huge they're going after our son's money rapidly huge numbers it is a thing of Kings only it really is and Al Pacino is getting classed out until it was 2 weeks it's about that I said to just gigantic Kings going after it well maybe I'll have you be a money man I don't know it's something I don't think so but you know they have armies that are like 100,000 artillion and he said oh so he's looking around and saying what would you have me do and it's saying nothing I'm saying give me a damn break he is so cocky having to do nothing and I'll get together and do something and so he says oh so he's starting to think about something and he's thinking that so I got together and he said it sounds like a good deal is it going to have him do stuff there's another huge move going on and the attack on the blockade is going to draw the fleet because the Europeans see what we see some of their ships are hot and they're wondering who they are if they're telling me up or not and what's in them and if you got it from the rings or if you got it from down below or what the deal iswill and Bill scanned it and said they're perfectly round and might be nuclear weapons but probably not they're too hot and we scanned it and said we know what those are they look like thorium balls so we're taking a closer look and I zoomed in and they have academy cadmium on the outside and those things are designed to explode on impacts or heat so wondering why ships would have those in there and they want to crash into the Earth Al Pacino saying you're blaming me and this a****** has been saying it for like 5 years to everybody and he won't shut up it's going on and on so. There's a huge number of things wrong with what's going on here that guy is so damned annoying. The fleet's going to move in then the floor and see it and they are going to have to stop them and they're breaking through the blockade tonight and the blockade will reform tomorrow they think because their ships will be ready but it's not enough ships at this time and the foreigners are fighting fiercely over ships overseas it's about 100 octillion at each ship lay down location and there's 10 in each area over there and it's probably 20 areas that are doing it so it's 200 * 100 not feeling those 20,000 Octillion an hour. Tons of mole I could die probably have that so it's 100,000 so that means by tomorrow morning there might only be 30,000 left. And it's time we get there to stretcher I mean for crying out loud it's Christian Bale and see what he's been saying this stuff for boy you people blabbing.

They're chasing our son's money around it's a huge one that's costing them about $3,000 artillion an hour but across the board

There's a huge one and nobody's pay attention to and it's K2 the case you hear the kju here are costing them about $30,000 artillion a day and that's in the United States it is gigantic how many people want one of those things and there's another huge forty thousand octillion a day in the USA alone for ships okay. Truthfully it's probably 3 or 4,000 octillion an hour but in 10 hours that's 30,000 octillion so no it's more like 30 or 40 octillion an hour at each location in the United States and there are 10 and that brings it up to 30 to 40,000 actually in a day and that's what it is but it's across the board it's a normal cross section although morlock are sending as many as they can.

Trump keeps saying this rude line to our son over and over what can you do for us or will hurt you what can you do for us I will kill you what can you do for us we need something it says nothing the a****** keeps saying it to him say it to him like five times today he says it's a lot to him so we're going to hit him a lot harder he's got Stars up and they're going in I'm going to send massive numbers to troop and I'm going to lead him out we're getting in California to the tune of like 100,000 oct a day. Shortly they're going to be gone they don't have that many people left they refilled California one more time it could be out seriously that is a lot it is about $100,000 octillion that was today it did what you suggested go up there read and go back down and keep sucking down tons of them just a huge amount

And open messages one more tonight they're going up there they haven't done it yet I only went up there and came back and they're going up there again cuz they punched him out and he wants to go to the lake and see what's up there like an idiot probably swim naked get sucked in and they're after zerg because the surgery have been attacking them non-stop by the way. All the idiot stuff goes backwards and they can't figure it out and the max like don't bother doing anything so a'll get in clobbered it's going to seen.

We've initialized all the programs here it's far too tiring it's too much work chasing them around it's way too idiotic I feel like they have free rein of everything and I'm sick of it but putting in humongous bases and I'm going to raise occasion now and we're going to take over Saturday yeah about three left globally now there's the Mediterranean Russia Europe he has one big one and a few small ones under a hundred miles and Russia has about 10 50 MI balls and they're constantly fighting over them and we're getting rid of tons of them because of it and we need soldiers very badly and putting the draft out again I hate to say this but I have to put a tickler as to what to put it so I'm going to get a score together a unit that will do that and people are volunteering we need it desperately and she just call up and say this is happening we need more and put it out there and send the draft out and we have a schedule and locations and let's get it done tonight put it on the list.

And the status hasn't changed here robots are just sitting there it's really kind of mind-numbing they're not going out in the West and they break through the blockade and they don't bother the Jager they should sitting here threatening our son like crazy assholes so at least have detectives or California I need to give people like we are it's a pain in the answer everybody is and mostly Trump's getting rated this is a dick and I guess time you answering them to make it happen ing and it happens cuz he's doing it we're going to figure out what to do but he says there's only one reason to come out and put something on top so the ships come out and they're going to be on top and we get that

We're moving out here I was talking about Tallahassee is getting cleared over and over and it's mostly Trump leaving he's a huge pain that guy is such a dick he's a rebel he does the job and he's just such a moron that we can't can't keep him on it's horrible he's too harmful for our son and others tonight might be as worst night and our son says probably not and gets weaker and weaker he's going to lose more and more area that's true too and tomorrow is Wednesday and there is only a couple more days until this Friday and he is Scott free again for the weekend and he's such a pain. There's a few more things we're going to talk about when is the attitude here gets our son so mad he's like Al Pacino there's a few people to get very angry about it people doing stupid things all the time and seeing them things and being mean on purpose it's just a real people up and they can't handle it themselves at all and they just keep doing it and it's to try and move our son to DC so we're going to prep the Zerg for a massive strike on the Virginia's the Carolinas DC and surrounding because they're going up to Massachusetts to roll them up and we're going to get the space Marines going too huge huge huge lots of them and we're going to strike it's too much of this s*** and we're going to strike here too I can't stand your faces they just sit here talking about you like cars I like cars who cares you need to leave you're a big parasite and you're happy to say it to us in our son everyday out loud over and over and over and over time's up on that crap

Couple more things we need to heal him we need to get them better stuff and better digs and he's stuck here on the government's income we need to change that so far we're lucky they have all these people who want to fight each other and then we're going to try and stop Trump the ass was talking about hot dogs now. They went ahead and arrested the guy cuz they said they didn't have a permit when he did was trying to sue and he can't seem to do it because he's too poor it's one of these guys they beat down and push down he's not mentally ill and our son doesn't know people know who he is and yes it's Tommy f and he's going around with people saying they're going to get bugs from his hair when they eat hot dogs so they just took him out because of that it probably should and the idiot is probably getting bugs because of the stupid idea so we figured out something this guy's sick and it's already gone or something and he doesn't need any help but you know it's kind of ridiculous but we're kind of sick of them

We got to get that straightened out the shatter down and we're working on the other shatteredome and it seems to slow down because it did so we got to heat it up and we know how and we're going to start doing it cuz it's a waste of time otherwise and we need access there we need to infiltrate more so I'm writing it up and I'm sending orders and zigzag we need a meeting tonight and we need a staff meeting and we need your requirements I don't care if you need $100,000 octillion you let me know you said that would be nice so think of a number like that this this bigger or smaller and bring it to the meeting cuz he's requesting it and she is now sending it this is our first priority it's the greatest threat needs to be cleared immediately it doesn't care if he goes in there and pulls them out and we've done that so we need to set a more aggressive timetable because we don't care for it but we need to also eliminate the clothes in order to do it and we will take a look at that they are getting hit pretty good and we're clearing them out

Other than that it was a great day we built a lot of buildings five hotels are up 10 apartments brand new ones are in and those are actually Charlotte county Sarasota county Lee county and they're new and they're in brand new they took one week to build and they're being inhabited tomorrow we have 20 they will complete tomorrow and in the same or similar area 30 the next day and a few are outside 10 or outside and more and it's coming more and more construction more and more renovations associated people in your damn bugs and your stupid greasy s*** all the time with your poop and your ass talk kidnapping people I just keep kidnapping you you big mouth Tommy f I think that's all I got

Thor Freya

Olympus

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echo-three-one · 3 years

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Yo! Fic request possibly.

Soap is sent home pretty injured after a mission and his partner takes care of him (in more ways than one if you catch my drift)

Hello anon! I apologize in advance if I bended your request. But If you think of it... the event happened After a Mission and he got Pretty Injured so I'm still on track right?

Anyways enjoy!

⚠️ NSFW tag and it's 1600ish words.

John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

A year had passed

October 11th 2017.

You gazed outside the hospital you work in, taking a deep breath as the view of construction filled the huge glass window. This was you're longest break for today, it's been ten minutes since someone last paged you and you found it bizarre. But who are you to complain? You're just doing your job, like your boyfriend who's somewhere out there in that building.

You smiled as you remembered him stepping back into the world, after his tragic injury from exactly one year ago. To which you didn't know most of the events that occurred, but you fully remembered how you were there to save his life.

There was some sort of war just by Hotel Lustig, you didn't care much as that day brought in waves of injured persons that the events outside the hospital were too unimportant. But you believed he was one of the persons who got injured by the blast, and it was something only you could fix.

You took a deep breath, holding your emotions as you remember the first moment you met him. His face was almost lifeless, his pulse was faint but it was there. He had no ID but his uniform told you he was O-Pos.

"We're going to need lots of bags for this man. Hurry and contact the blood bank!" You instructed as you forcefully tore his shirt, which was originally white but now drowned in crimson and reeked of rust. A huge reopened fleshwound from a poorly made stitch, you evaluated. Maybe he didn't have the resources from when he first got operated and now it came back to haunt him. You expertly did your thing as the nurses behind you quickly assisted you, trying to impress you as they aspire to be part of the program.

It took you almost two hours until the life slowly went back to his face. A face you have been staring at every chance you have. A face you hoped to see smile someday. Then there it was, a stable heartbeat. Nurses cheered around you as well as those watching from above. He lived.

"Doctor L/N!!" Someone called over the walkie talkie. You quickly snapped back to reality and replied with urgency. It's your boyfriend. He broke his arm while on construction.

You pushed the double doors open as soon as you reached the emergency room. You could spot him from afar as his haircut stood out from the crowd, a mohawk that you grew to love.

"John!" You gasped and rushed to his aid, as the nurse secured the strap of his sling.

"Love! I'm glad to see you here." he grinned, almost looking proud at his injury. He looked like he just got a new tattoo or something. Far from the emotion of being hurt.

"What happened? Does it hurt?" you checked his chart, momentarily looking at him.

"Just a minor fall. That ladder was not as stable as it looked." he chuckled, his other hand held yours and you quickly looked at him in the eye. Lost in his cold blue orbs, your heart thumped as his eyes told you he was fine and how you looked beautiful in that outfit.

"What about your wound? Did it hurt after the fall?" You shook yourself off from his trance and unbuttoned his shirt, checking for signs of reopening.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Not here and not now, Love. Lot's of people are watching." he joked, you sigh at his attitude towards the situation. He was too chill about this.

"So, when will you be off?" he winked as he comfortably sat on he hospital bed, tapping the other side, inviting you to sit down.

"I'm actually off duty now." you reply as you accept his invitation and sunk your ass on the soft matress beside him, pulling the sky blue curtain inward, covering the two of you from the public eyes.

You slowly leaned on his strong shoulders, shoulders that you massaged after his recovery so he could stand up again, shoulders you leaned on when you were having trouble at work. You felt his arm wrap around you, his hands grazed through your coat as he slowly rubs it against your arm.

"Guess I'm driving home." you chuckled and he laughed, looking at you as he held your cheek.

"Does my insurance cover my fees here?" he asked, breaking the vibe of whatever you were both feeling.

"I'll check on it later. For now, let's take you home."

"Sounds good to me."

***

You slumped yourself on your side of the bed, leaning to a peacefully sleeping John MacTavish beside you. You stared at the scar on his chest as it rises and falls in sync with his breathing, your night music just before falling asleep.

You remembered how you carefully stitched his wound, how you poured out your heart to save this person, a person who didn't mean to you the moment you saw him but now means the whole world to you.

Putting your finger on his scar, you slowly traced its tracks across his chest, enjoying the feel of his skin. He snorted and slowly opened his eyes, smiling at the view.

"Hey you." he whispered, moving your hair behind your ear pulling you over for a kiss. You didn't hesitate but you were cautious, you were careful not to hit his injured arm. But all that focus began to fade away as your lips met his, tongues clashed in an epic battle of passion like two expert fencing athletes on a clash to see who's the best.

You gasped as you broke the kiss, panting and smiling as his blue eyes sparkled against the moonlight outside the window.

"It's been a year since I first saw you, my angel. Don't think that I forgot about that." he murmured. His Scottish accent sounded so well, you can't get enough of it, it's as if each word vibrated across your body.

You slowly lifted your leg and straddled on him, positioning your ass on a spot that's going to make him beg. He grunted softly as you detected the tone of lust from him. He was clearly enjoying the tease, so you raised your eyebrows at him and slowly shook your hips teasingly against him.

"Are we really going this way?" he complained as his hand reached out to your hips, sliding below your shirt and letting his electric touch on your hip send shivers down your spine. His thumbs make its way just below your breasts, the tip of the big finger grazing the lower part of your left breast.

"Which way?" you asked teasingly as you feel his manhood slowly grow. You pull the string that held his sweatpants and ran your hands across his abs, feeling each bump, admiring his feel.

"This way." he smirked as he thrusted his hips upward, making you yelp in surprise. Looks like he's trying to turn back the tables which is something you always loved. Him in charge. The thought made your hairs rise, as you remembered all those times he did it in this apartment ; in the showers, in the kitchen, by the dining table oh and this exact bed.

One thing led into another until you found yourself on all fours, facing the wall as you whimpered in pain as his cock slowly slid on your wet opening. He once told you that he hated dogs, but that didn't stop him from using this position, but this time only one hand was tightly gripping your plump ass.

You let out short gasps as he picks up his pace, the creaking sound of the bed got louder and louder as his thrusts became faster and deeper. You moaned on his every thrust, mentally noting the feel of his whole manhood inside of you. How his tip interacted with your sensitive walls. How his groans and whispers of endearment enter your ear and go straight to your memory banks, a part of the brain you're supposed to know but now reduced to simpler terms because all you could think of right now is how much you love this man and how this sex is a message of both your feelings.

He pulled himself out as you both gasp, he quickly moved himself to your lips not letting you a chance to catch for air. You grabbed his hair and gripped it tight, tilting your head for a better angle. You could feel his tip poking at your entrance as he placed himself between your hips.

"Please John, show me how much you love me." you whispered, lustful intentions wrapped in your tone. You could feel him smirk just before he kisses you once again, his tongue doing marvelous wonders inside your mouth as his cock slowly enters inside you, slamming it hard making the bed creak.

You whimpered in surprise but as soon as he stopped, you gripped his back signaling him to keep doing it. You could feel his cast rest on your breasts as he picks up the pace once again, this time the bed was shaking dangerously, creaking loudly while doing so. You both ignored this as the loud clapping of your skin mixed with your collective grunts, groans and moans rung on your ears while your mind swirled in a pleasure filled moment.

With one final groan, he burst his load inside you, the hot rush of liquids fill your insides making you pant and smile. He looked at you, sweat trickled from his forehead, mouth open gasping for air. He chuckled and leaned back, as your bed suddenly snapped, sending you both a few inches lower.

Complete silence. You both realized what just happened and laughed. That was some wild fucking.

"Bloody hell, we broke the bed!" he muttered seductively while you were laughing almost losing air.

"That we did." you replied and smiled at him, thanking the threads of destiny that you met this wonderful man on this fateful day, one year ago.

#horRAYfic #anonreq #Soap x Reader #codmwfic #jotterpad and it's multiple line spacing

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anightflower · 4 years

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Come and Find Me

Chapter One: I’m Stuck

I won’t lie when writing the cute parts of the story I listened to “I’m Stuck” by Noah Cyrus.

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: None

Read Prologue here Masterlist

You stumbled into your favorite coffee shop. You were a mess this morning and it’s all because your alarm decided to fuck you over and not wake you up on time. Luckily your body didn’t completely betray you, naturally waking up an hour later than you had planned, but still giving you a half hour to get to your meeting.

You had screamed when you saw the time, this meeting could be your next big break, and getting there late was not how you wanted to start a new design deal. At a mere 23 years old you were still making your way up into the world. After graduating college a semester early you had worked your ass off and started your own independent interior design business. You focused on designing office spaces for big businesses using workplace psychology to create an environment that brought up productivity and reduced the stress of workers.

Your business was slowly gaining traction, but the company you were meeting today could really put your name out there.

You had planned to wake up early, put yourself together and center yourself over a cup of coffee, however, life can never be that simple. So here you were, quick light makeup and your hair in a simple bun rather than the elaborate “I am a professional” look you planned. The one thing you did have going for you was your outfit, a white blouse that complimented your figure and tan capri pants, with a strappy heeled sandal. You had made sure it was spotless and ironed before your big day today, so at least you had that going for you.

“Oh darling, you look a bit out of it, are you alright?” Your favorite barista and dear friend Ava, asked, her green eyes filled with concern.

“Av, you would not believe the hell of the morning I’ve had.” You groaned. “I woke up late today and I have that huge meeting I told you about and all of the things I had planned to keep me grounded and ready flew out the window.”

Ava let out a tsk sound and patted your hand. “Oh babe, in that case, coffee’s on me. Take a deep breath. You’ve been planning for this meeting for weeks and with that amount of work and dedication, you’re definitely going to knock’em dead.”

“Ave, you are the light of my life.” You said, already feeling lighter than you did when you first entered.

“Oh babe, I know.” She winked, brushing a stray purple bang out of her eye. “I want an update on everything afterwards, you’ve got my number! James will have your coffee ready for you at the other end. Good luck!”

“Thank you! I promise I will!” You grinned and made your way to the other end of the counter, where your coffee was waiting.

Knowing your order by heart, James had already started your latte the moment you walked in, you thanked whatever God listening that it was ready so fast. James gave you a shy smile and handed you the coffee. “Here you go.”

“Thanks James.” You gave him a kind smile and turned to leave. Glancing down at your watch, you realized you had ten minutes to get to your meeting, but luckily it was just up the block so you would get there right on time.

But like you said nothing is ever easy. You weren’t exactly paying attention as you walked out of the store, you were double checking your bag to make sure you had everything, so naturally you slammed into someone, causing coffee to get all over your blouse.

You let out a yelp, while a large hand came out to steady you. “I am so sorry! Are you alright?” A male voice asked.

“Well, aside from the fact that I have a meeting that could change my life in 5 minutes and now I look like a disheveled mess with coffee on her blouse, I’m fine.” You grumbled finally looking at the face of your accidental attacker. Your heart stopped for a moment.

He was stunning. Shoulder length curly brown hair, caramel eyes, and a TALL, fit body.

He was clearly flustered as your eyes met. His face had a gentle dusting of pink across it and his eyes could barely meet yours. “I really am sorry, I wasn’t paying attention- uh- here!” He began to shrug off his cardigan. “This should be able to cover up most of the stains.” He thrust the sweater towards you.

Now it was your turn to be flustered. “Oh no, really, I can figure something out-”

“You said this meeting is supposed to change your life right?” He interrupted before you could stutter out anymore excuses. You nodded. “While I don’t want to be the person that ruins your life. Just wear it to your meeting and uh, how about we meet back here tomorrow morning and you can just give it back to me then?” He blushed a deeper crimson, as a big smile grew across your face.

“I would love that, thank you so much.” You put on his cardigan and buttoned it up. He was right, almost all of the stains were covered. “How do I look? Professional?” You asked him.

“Beautiful- I mean yes, professional, you look great!” He smiled, pushing a shoulder length curl behind his ear.

You blushed, but quickly forced yourself to regain your composure. “So I’ll meet you here at 7 tomorrow-” You paused looking at him for his name.

“Dr. Reid, well, Spencer, call me Spencer.”

“Spencer.” You smiled. “I will see you tomorrow then.”

That was the first time you met Spencer Reid.

________________________________________________________________

The next morning, Spencer arrived 30 minutes early to the coffee shop to get a table, he felt fidgety and nervous. He hadn’t even caught your name yesterday before you left and he felt like an idiot. Of course he bumps into the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, spilt coffee all over her, AND forgot to ask her her name. Part of him was worried you wouldn’t even show up, it’s not exactly the best first meeting.

30 minutes later when you walked in, he thanked a God he didn’t even believe in. You looked less bewildered than you did yesterday, but no less beautiful.

You had chosen to go for a business casual look, your hair curled and flowing past your shoulders, a deep red blouse, black denim jeans, and black heeled boots. You had Spencer’s cardigan draped over your arm, you had made sure to wash it before giving back to him.

You searched around the patrons until your eyes met Spencer’s, your whole face lit up as you made your way over to him.

You had no idea that somebody else was watching you as you made your way over to him. You were too distracted by Spencer to feel the angry gaze that burned into your back.

“Hi.” You said shyly as you sat down.

“Hey.” Spencer said smiling at you.

“Were you waiting long?” You asked, a concerned look crossing your face.

“Oh no, not at all, I just came a few minutes early to get us a good seat.” Spencer lied, not wanting you to know how early he actually came.

“Well you choose right, this is the best seat in the house. It’s right by the counter where you pick up coffee, but it’s the perfect window seat to people watch.” You explained.

“Yeah, did you know coffee is actually a fruit?” Spencer asked you. “They’re actually the pit of a berry and grow on a bush.

You let out a giggle, “No, I had no idea that was even a thing. At least I can use that as an excuse when I get chastised for drinking too much. Where did you learn that?”

Spencer blushed. “I tend to pick up random knowledge here and there. Which reminds me, I never got your name yesterday before you ran off.”

“Well Dr. Spencer Reid, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You grinned offering him a hand. “No fancy title, but I am doing my best for simply being a Miss.”

Spencer would usually avoid handshakes due to all the germs, however he wanted nothing more than to shake your hand, which was warm and soft.

“(Y/N).” He tested your name out on his tongue. You smiled.

“Have you gotten a coffee yet?” You asked him, getting up to head to order.

“I had one a bit earlier, but I could use another one.” Spencer answered, getting up to follow you.

As you approached the counter you tried to ignore the smug look Ava gave you, praying she wouldn’t say anything. She gave Spencer a not so subtle up and down look, checking him out and obviously finding him attractive. You gave Ava a stern look that told her not to say a word.

She just gave you a wink. Spencer had picked up on all of this, his profiler skills not missing a thing. A small smile crept across his face and he swallowed back a laugh.

You gestured for Spencer to go first, “I’m buying, to thank you for letting me borrow your sweater yesterday.”

Spencer looked at you in bewilderment. “No way! If anything I’m buying for destroying your coffee and spilling it all over your blouse before your ‘life changing’ meeting!”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Spencer, just order the damn coffee. I promise you it won’t break my bank. Especially after I got the design yesterday.” You grinned.

Ava let out a squeal. “You did not! Oh my god, I knew you could do it girl! All of your hard work paid off!”

Spencer’s face lit up. “Congratulations! I’m glad our collision didn’t ruin anything.”

You let out a laugh. “If anything I think your cardigan brought me good luck, I even got a couple compliments on it. I may just have to keep it.” You teased

Spencer’s heart warmed at the idea of you wearing his clothes. “Well if it brought you that much luck, maybe I’ll just let you keep it.”

A voice behind the two of you cleared their throat. “Are you guys going to order? Some of us have places to be.”

You glanced behind you at the woman, a small line had apparently grown behind you and Spencer. “Sorry about that. Ava I’ll just do my usual. Do not let Spencer pay.”

Ava raised her hands defensively. “I’m just here to make coffee love.”

“I’ll just do a large coffee with extra cream and a lot of sugar.” Spencer said.

You went to grab your wallet from your purse, but Spencer cut you off, cash already in hand.

“Spencer.” You whined and Spencer just shrugged.

As you made your way to the counter, you found it a bit strange that James had just left your coffees there. Usually he would at least wait a moment to say hi before taking off to make more orders, but you shrugged it off, they did have a line right now so he probably had to focus on getting the coffees out to customers.

Though the two of you only got to spend about an hour together, the two of you had immediately hit it off, completely unaware of the eyes that had been burning through you as they watched throughout what you and Spencer would later consider your first date.

_______________________________________________________________

From there it was a whirlwind of dates snuck between cases and your design jobs. After a little over a month Spencer had asked to officially call you his girlfriend and you had obviously accepted.

It was ridiculously cliche how quickly the both of you had fallen for each other, but you had just seemed to click right away. You loved Spencer’s logical mind that went on and on with random facts, he loved your creativity and energy. Your minds worked well together, helping each other out when the other got stuck.

As your relationship progressed, you found yourself spending more and more time at each other's apartments.

“Ava, he's just a dream. I’ve never felt like this with anyone ever.” You explained joyfully.

You had sat in your regular window seat, while Ava remained on the other side of the service counter. It was a bit slow in the shop today, so she had come over to get all the details on “your smokeshow boyfriend.” Since she was the manager of the shop and beloved by her boss, she could get away with it.

“Oh hon, if he has a brother, let me know.” She purred, sneaking a glance over her shoulder to check on James who was holding down the fort for her. The boy stood by the register, poor thing looking a bit bored.

James was a year younger than you and apparently starting grad school, but his shyness made him seem so much younger that you felt this slight protectiveness over him even if you only knew him from around the shop and stories from Ava.

His eyes met yours and you gave him a sympathetic smile. He blushed deeply and turned away, scampering to busy himself.

You looked back at Ava, giving a little nod towards James, “What about James? He seems sweet and he’s cute.” You waggled your eyebrows at her.

Ava snickered. “(Y/N/N), he is sweet, but way too shy, he can barely look me in the eye. I need someone who’s more of a dom if you know what I mean.” She smirked.

You pouted at her. “Poor James.”

Ava shrugged, “He’ll find his someone. Anyway you’re switching the topic, back to your dreamboat. You said he was an FBI agent? That’s heroic and sexy.”

You rolled your eyes at her. “Yes, he’s part of the Behavior Analysis Unit. They create profiles to help solve different criminal cases. It’s actually amazing. Spencer is giving a lecture about it at a college this Friday if you want to come with me.”

“I’ll come, but only if I get to officially meet your sexy doctor superhero boyfriend.” Ava smirked.

“Well obviously.” You smiled.

________________________________________________________________

The boy’s breathing was heavy as he struggled to control his anger. He watched the Doctor’s tall form strutting across the stage, his long brown hair swinging back and forth as he broke down profiling and the criminal cases he and his BAU team had solved.

From where he sat in the lecture hall he could watch the doctor while also keeping an eye on you. You were sitting near the front, your friend by your side. It was hard to miss her with her deep purple hair, that’s how he always found you. Though to him, you outshined everyone in the room. Even the ridiculous doctor.

He growled to himself as he observed your look of awe. He knew you two had made your relationship official. He knew almost every detail. Like how last weekend, the Doctor had come home early from a case and had surprised you with your favorite flowers: pink dahlias. You had spent the whole rest of the weekend together; you had brought him to your favorite Thai place, then went to both of your favorite bookstores. He knew everything.

He knew where you lived, your schedule, the design projects you were working on. He watched and he listened. He followed you home some days. Other days, he would simply wait outside your apartment building. He knew what window to watch if he wanted to catch a glimpse of you.

The worst days are when the Doctor would be with you. He would watch as you two joked around and kissed, it made him sick.

He didn’t like the Doctor. He hated hearing him ramble on to you. Fact after fact, never shutting up. But he understood him as he had researched him, found his accomplishments; he was a prodigal, graduating high school at the age of 12 and earned three PhDs. He worked for the FBI, catching criminals and profiling them. The Doctor constantly had something to prove, how could you be with a man so weak?

The Doctor was someone who could hardly befriend anyone besides his books, so how had the Doctor gotten you, when he had always been there? The Doctor did not deserve you, the Doctor could not give you what he could. Yet here you were, giving this man a ridiculous moon-eyed look that he did not deserve.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He got up and left.

He made his way down the hall towards an all-too familiar office, one that he practically lived in.

He was greeted by his usual cheery eyed professor, Professor Irving.

Never one to miss anything, Professor Irving raised an eyebrow. “You’re back early, how was the lecture?” Professor Irving asked. “Isn’t that Dr. Reid something else?”

“He’s alright. Someone worth looking into for sure. I left early to get ahead of these reports you wanted me to help grade, I do have a life outside of classes.”

Professor Irving smirked at him. “Son, I have known you too long, the only three places you go are classes, your job, and your apartment. I was hoping this lecture would show you how much the world has to offer, I mean look at Dr. Reid! He was one of the youngest to ever join the BAU-”

“ENOUGH about Dr. Reid!” He growled, interrupting his professor.

Professor Irving just stared at his student, shell-shocked.

The boy shook his head and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry professor, that was uncalled for, I have just been stressed lately.” The boy began picking up the papers he had to grade. He wanted to get through some of these as quick as possible, that way he could spend his weekend with you.

Professor Irving solemnly nodded. “I understand. I know you’ve been stressed lately, is that girl of yours acting up still?”

The boy sighed as he shrugged on his bag full of student’s reports. “Something like that. Listen, I know you said Dr. Reid is going to continue to come back and give lectures every few weeks or so. I will go to those ones and actually stay for them. Who knows? Maybe it will help me with my thesis paper. I just- I just can’t focus tonight, but I will do better. I promise.”

Professor Irving nodded. “Of course, let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

The boy nodded then left the room.

________________________________________________________________

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bts-bay-bee · 4 years

Text

blue

↳ pairing: park jimin x reader

↳ genre: smut, fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you squint

↳ summary: teaching your cold boss to love might just be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

↳ warnings: CEO!jimin, cold!jimin, dom!jimin, assistant!reader, cursing, male masturbation, fantasizing (?), vaginal fingering, oral (male and female receiving), cum eating, marking, daddy kink, pussy slapping, praise kink (kinda?), choking, handcuffs, nipple clamps, clit massager, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation (slight)

↳ word count: 13 066

↳ meaning of blue: heaven. authority. cold. wet. slow. depression. trust. intelligence.

“Is he here yet?” You asked, out of breath as you ran to your desk at work. The office secretary shook her head, no, making you sigh out in relief. You had been massively late for work which ended up with you running up the many flights of stairs – in heels – deeming the elevator too slow to get you to your office.

You flashed the office secretary a huge smile, hoping that would further prod her to cover up for your tardiness, before walking over to your office, which was conveniently located right next to your boss’s much larger, much sleeker office.

Park Jimin had been your boss for the better part of five years now. You had undertaken the job when you had finished high school, looking for anything and everything to bring any amount of money into your bank account. University tuition fee statements were your personal version of hell; the obscenely large number crushed any of the dreams you once had. But then came along Mr Park.

When he had seen your curriculum vitae, he had immediately been intrigued. Back then he wasn’t CEO of the company, but he had started to quickly move up the proverbial ranks, which allowed him to finally acquire a personal assistant to handle the lesser tasks. A high school graduate – with straight A’s in every subject – hadn’t chosen to go to college? That’s what had made him so intrigued with you. In a few short hours after he had first reviewed your resume, you had gone through a short telephonic interview then you had been asked to come in for a trial period. One which you had passed with flying colours.

Jimin couldn’t help himself but ask about your lack of tertiary education. With a flushed face and shaking hands, you embarrassedly told him about your lack of funds. It was only embarrassing because here you were talking about your financial issues to a man who had a year’s worth of tuition on his wrist in the form of a shiny gold Rolex. Another year’s worth of tuition was probably wrapped around his ring finger, because of course no man as rich, successful and not to mention handsome wouldn’t have a wedding ring on.

Jimin’s wife, Irene – who you had only met a handful of times – was the complete opposite of the warm, caring man. She was cold and distant, even towards her husband, who was supposedly her high school sweetheart. How they managed to stay together for so long boggled your mind. Slowly, you started to see Jimin change. His once fond smile slowly disappeared, now being replaced by a cold, grim straight line. He stopped caring about the people he worked with. He even began to sneer at lesser workers, not bothering to greet the janitors or the office secretary.

Sitting at your shiny, mahogany desk you began to review emails for Jimin, sifting through the numerous subject lines and forwarding the emails to him so that he could take care of them. At around 10am you left your desk, realising that you had to make Jimin coffee. After adding the espresso shot and steamed milk into the coffee mug, you walked to the large door of Jimin’s office, knocking three times before waiting for a response.

“Enter.” His voice was clipped, meaning he was already in a foul mood.

You quietly pushed down the door handle and entered, your eyes trained on the floor as you made your way to his desk. Without speaking you placed the steaming cup of coffee in front of him, then began to make your way back to your office. Jimin hadn’t taken his eyes off of his large LCD screen, not paying you any attention. However, before you could take a step away from him, his cold, hard voice reached your ears.

“Take a seat, Miss L/N.”

Oh, you were screwed. There was no two ways about it.

“Yes, Sir.”

He never told you to sit after bringing him his coffee. Taking a deep breath, you turned back to face him and took a seat on the edge of the plush chairs. Jimin’s cold eyes still trailed over his monitor, making you squirm slightly from awkwardness. What did he want? He hadn’t asked you to sit with him since… Well, since before he was married. This just wasn’t something you did anymore.

After what seemed like hours, he lifted his eyes from the harshly lit screen, bring his eyes to your own. Flushing a light shade of pink, you cleared your throat and looked down again. You didn’t want to disrespect him by staring right back at him.

“Where’s your coffee?” He quietly asked, picking up his mug.

“I, uh… I didn’t make myself any, Sir.” You replied, eyes trained on your twiddling thumbs. He sighed, rolling his chair back slightly so that he was more comfortable.

“Don’t you want to go make yourself a cup? I need to speak to you about something.” Jimin said, loosening the tie he had dawned today slightly. You were frozen in the leather chair – had you done something wrong? Was he going to fire you? He noticed you hadn’t moved, which caused him to frown. “Is the idea of drinking coffee with me really that appalling, Y/N?”

“No! I just…” You began, wringing your hands nervously, your eyes still not leaving them. “Are you going to fire me?”

Jimin looked at you, stunned. “Why would think that?”

“Well… I was a little late for work today, and you asked me to sit down. You don’t ask me to sit down and have coffee with you, Sir. It was almost as if you were going to give me bad news.”

“I used to always ask you to have coffee with me, Y/N.” He replied, frowning slightly. He knew that you used to have coffee with him on a daily basis, usually to discuss the work for the day, but coffee, nonetheless. He also knew that at one point you used to meet his eyes when you spoke to him. When did that change? “Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“What did you want to talk to me about?” You asked, avoiding his question that you had no nice answer to. Did he really want to hear that his wife berated you repeatedly for working with him so closely? For looking at him when he spoke to you, and vice versa?

Jimin eyed you warily. “Are you sure you don’t want coffee?” You nodded wordlessly, only making him deepen his frown. Nevertheless, he ploughed on, settling on the fact that this was now what your relationship had been reduced to. “I have a promotion of sorts for you. Well, in actual fact, it’s just a favour for me. A rather large favour.”

“Sir?” You prodded, urging him to speak when he had stopped. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes out of sheer tiredness. He had been awake all night, thinking about how to ask you this.

“As you know, Irene and I have been separated for some time now.” He began, making you reel with shock. When did they split up?! And why did he think that you knew about it? “We recently decided to finalise it and get a divorce. She left last week. She left Ezra with me.”

Ezra is Jimin’s five-year-old son. Despite his mother being an absolute witch and his father turning colder with each passing day, he was still a respectful boy. Like Irene, you hadn’t really seen him that many times.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” You softly replied, not knowing what else to say. Where was this going? “I didn’t know this had been happening, Sir.”

Jimin shrugged, not really worried about the fact that he was divorced. That’s not what had been bothering him. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we were ever actually in love. Anyway, Irene isn’t what I need to speak to you about. It’s Ezra.”

“I’m sure this has been very taxing on him too.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You still didn’t know where this was going, and it was driving you crazy.

“He’s too young to really understand what’s been happening.” He replied, his jaw clenched, angry at himself for not being able to articulate why he so desperately needed your help.

“I, um… I’m not really the domestic type. I don’t know how to cook. I don’t know how to take care of a child. I’ve been dropping Ezra off at my parents every day since Irene left, but I don’t want him to grow up spending most of his day at someone else’s house. He should be at his home. And, I know, I can hire someone to babysit him, but he’s still so young to be left with strangers, and I don’t want to put his life in unnecessary danger. I mean, you never know what these people could be behind a façade –”

“Sir, where do I fit in?” You asked, amused at his rambling. This isn’t the cold CEO that you became used of. This was the old Jimin, the Jimin that had actually been interested about his employees, regardless of the amount on their pay cheque.

He cleared his throat, a slight blush on his cheeks. “I know that you’re not under any obligation to help me, but I trust you more than anyone else in my life, Y/N. I need… I need someone to help me with Ezra. Not just with Ezra, but with the whole domestic thing.”

“Mr Park, I still don’t know where I fit in.” You said soothingly, getting somewhat of an idea of what he was asking you.

He ran his hand though his styled blonde hair in exasperation. Why couldn’t he just say what he needed from you? “Move in with me.” Shit. That’s not how he had meant to phrase it.

You choked on nothing; the way he had blurted it out had surprised you, which ended up with you looking up at him with watery eyes from a lack of oxygen. He immediately jumped out of his chair and rushed over to you, lightly tapping your back until you could breathe easily again. Having him this close to you made you even more nervous than you already were. After your choking ordeal was over, he surprised you by taking a seat next to you instead of going to the other side of the desk. His cologne wafted over you, dosing you in his masculine scent. It honestly made you more nervous that you already were.

“Move in with you?” You repeated, in a small voice. Jimin looked mortified at your reaction, mentally bashing himself for even thinking of asking you this. But he was already in too deep to change the narrative.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Obviously, you wanted to help him – you want to help everyone around you. It was just who you were as a person. But how would it look? The world you lived in was a rather nasty, judgemental one.

“Sir… Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but what would people think? You barely finalised your divorce and you already have another woman moving in?”

“Just temporarily.” He weakly replied, embarrassment showing on his cheeks. “Of course, I know that this is such a huge favour to ask, I know it’s odd, but I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I wasn’t completely out of options.”

You bit your lower lip, then sighed. Curse your soft heart. Running a hand through your hair, you nodded to him. “We have a lot more to discuss, but when can I move in?”

***

“This is the living room… This is the kitchen… Your bedroom is upstairs, next to mine.” Jimin timidly said, scratching the back of his reddened neck. This nervous side of Jimin was quite new, and you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make you amused. Ever since you drove into the driveway five minutes ago, he had been stumbling over his words, tripping over nothing and wringing his hands.

“Sir, are you okay?” You asked before you could stop yourself. He caught your eye, opening his mouth to brush you off, but was left speechless when you didn’t shy away from his gaze. His mouth curved into a soft smile, realising that it was just you. There was no reason to be a nervous, rambling mess.

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He murmured, seeing the way your eyes danced with amusement. Who would’ve thought that the cold, cutthroat CEO would be rendered speechless from having his personal assistant in his home? “I’ve been thinking… I mean, you are essentially going to be living here for a while. I don’t want you to feel as if you’re forced to maintain a professional persona the entire time. Call me Jimin.”

“Okay, Si – Jimin.” You replied, quickly catching yourself. The feel of his name on your tongue foreign yet… Right. Jimin smiled at you, his nervousness of having you in his house now forgotten. Who would’ve thought that all it took to get rid of them was just one look into your eyes? But now his stomach was twisting for a different reason. Why did it flip when you said his name?

“Where’s Ezra?” Your question hung in the air as he abandoned any thought about the butterflies wreaking havoc in the pit of his tummy. Almost as if saying his name summoned him, the boy suddenly appeared to walk down the stairs. His dark hair was greatly contrasted by his honeyed skin; his cheeks so full that they gently shook with every step he took. Ezra was truly the miniature version of Jimin.

He bowed to his father almost a little too fast, making you raise your eyebrow. Upon setting his eyes on his son, Jimin stood up even straighter than he already was and lifted his chin, regarding Ezra with cold eyes.

“This is Y/N.” Jimin told the young boy, his jaw clenched. Jimin almost seemed angry at Ezra. “She’s going to be helping us while your mother is away.”

***

“Good morning, Ezra.” You sang softly as you slowly opened the curtains in his bedroom. You saw his eyes peak up at you through the covers of his grey blanket, then abruptly squint when the sun’s rays hit them. “Did you sleep well?”

“Hmm.” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The long sleeves of his blue pyjamas flopped over the tips of his fingers, only increasing the cuteness currently assaulting your eyes. You smiled at him, hoping that today was the day that he completely opened up to you – having already been here for two weeks surely must’ve made him somewhat comfortable with you, right?

“How about after you get bathed and changed, we have pancakes for breakfast?” You suggested as you ran your hands through his messy bedhead, smoothing the black tufts of hair. Ezra said nothing, instead he nodded at you, sleep still quite evident in his eyes.

After tidying up Ezra’s room, you walked into the kitchen with the intent of making some coffee for Jimin and yourself. As you put a couple scoops of ground coffee beans in the machine, you began prepping the ingredients for breakfast. If you worked fast enough, Jimin might be able to eat before he goes to the office. Humming as you gracefully moved throughout the kitchen, you quickly lost track of time.

“Are you… Making pancakes?” Jimin incredulously asked, eyes sweeping over the stack of pancakes that he found next to you on the counter. You hummed, flashing him a small smile, before going back to flipping the golden pancakes in front of you.

This was the first time that he had seen you in your natural state – usually you were already showered and changed before he even woke up, but today you just didn’t feel like keeping up the pretence. You were basically going to be living here for a couple more weeks – you didn’t feel like faking how organised you were as soon as you woke up. Even though you did feel kind of insecure and quite frankly embarrassed about the way you were dressed at the moment, Jimin felt totally different. Of course, he knew that you were gorgeous, but with your hair pulled in a messy bun and your thighs on display thanks to your sleeping shorts, Jimin just couldn’t help but stare at you.

His eyes studied the exposed flesh of your legs, unknowingly biting his plump lip when you turned around to get something from the cupboard behind you. Jimin only tore his eyes away from your unmarred skin when Ezra climbed onto the stool next to him.

You smiled at Ezra as you placed a stack of pancakes in front of him, the breath-taking curve of your pink lips were enough to make Jimin reciprocate the action, even though it wasn’t even being directed at him. When did he become to enamoured with you? Was it when you agreed to help him in his desperate time of need, or long before that? He couldn’t help but think that you were somewhat like a guardian angel – his own, personal angel, who makes his day a little brighter.

“Jimin? Jimin? Jimin!” You called, trying to capture his attention. He had spaced out, not realising that both you and Ezra had been attempting to talk to him. You nudged his shoulder gently, causing him to finally get out of his daydream and look at you confused. “We’ve been trying to speak to you. You kind of entered your own world there.” You explained to him, unable to prevent the tiny laughter from leaving your mouth.

Ezra had long since given up trying to talk to his father; any five year old child would want their father’s attention, but Ezra (even at his tender age) knew that his relationship with Jimin was somewhat strained; his father had already been corrupted by the cold CEO attitude to ever give him any attention. This was why Ezra was already almost done with his stack of pancakes – he didn’t want to spend any more time with Jimin than needed. Well, he knew that Jimin didn’t want to spend any more time with him than needed.

“I’m sorry, I was… Thinking.” Jimin apologised sheepishly, making Ezra confused. For as long as he had been alive, he hadn’t heard his father utter an apology. Not even to his mother. But Ezra was already confused – not once had his mother ever made him breakfast, let alone eat breakfast together. Was this what a normal family did every day? “What were you saying, Y/N?”

“I was wondering if it would be okay for me to take Ezra to the craft store today.” You repeated, nervously. “Ezra likes to draw and paint, and so do I, so I wanted to get us some more supplies –” Jimin didn’t even wait for you to finish before sliding his credit card over to you, making you look at him confused. “I wasn’t hinting for money, Sir, I just wanted to take Ezra with me.”

“I know, but please take it.” He murmured, dropping his gaze to the delectable stack of food in front of him. “And what did we talk about, Y/N? Stop calling me Sir. I’m not your boss here. Think of this as your home.”

“It’s just a habit…” You awkwardly explained, trying not to make too much a fool of yourself, as Ezra hopped down the chair and went to wash his hands. “It feels disrespectful to call you anything other than Sir.”

“I remember that you used to call me Chim before.” He muttered, thinking back to when you had first started at the company. You had been so playful with him, something that he misses dearly. His admission made you blush a deep scarlet. How did he even remember something as trivial as a stupid nickname?

As you opened your mouth to respond, you heard Ezra struggling to reach the faucet in the basin. Before you could turn to help him, he frantically hit the tap falling to the floor, subsequently turning the water on to a very high pressure. You suddenly felt water spray everywhere, falling all over the granite top, the floor, as well as you and Ezra.

You quickly shut the tap off, ignoring the water dripping down your face and checked to see if Ezra was fine.

“Are you okay, baby?” You murmured, wiping the water off of his face as his eyes filled with tears. “Did you get hurt?”

“Why didn’t you ask one of us for help?” Jimin asked in a firm voice, anger obviously showing on his face and in his voice. “Now look at what you’ve done!”

Ezra doesn’t respond to either of you. Instead, he took one look at Jimin’s face and ran out the kitchen, tears streaming down his face. You stood up and looked at Jimin in disbelief.

“It was just a mistake, Jimin. There was no need for you to speak to him like that.” You said stiffly, trying not to let your irritation shine through. You turned away from him, quickly cleaning up the water before ignoring Jimin’s silence and walking up the stairs into Ezra’s room.

Jimin really didn’t mean to do what he did. It came from years and years of being forced to be strict and abrupt with his employees. He meant to tell you that – he really did. But when you angrily snapped at him with a soaking wet, white shirt, he lost all train of thought. The water had turned the material see-through, showing off your plump tits, even flaunting the darker ring of your nipple. He was so lucky you were not there to see him frozen, mind unable to function from seeing your breasts.

‘Stop acting like some fucking schoolboy,’ he chided himself as he fixed his semi-hard length through his slacks, ‘you got hard after seeing her tits, for God’s sake. Pull yourself together.’

After checking the coast to make sure it was clear, he all but ran back into his room, hoping to hide his slightly stiffened member from you. As Jimin walked past Ezra’s room, he heard you soothingly reassuring the child that he hadn’t meant to shout at him. Hearing the way you had to quieten Ezra made his heart clench – you barely knew his son, yet you were comforting him after one of Jimin’s many outbursts. Of course Jimin didn’t want to compare you and Irene, the two relationships you shared with Jimin and Ezra were completely different, but she never cared for Ezra the way you do. She never bothered to notice that Ezra had been interested in art; hell, even he hadn’t noticed that.

Thoughts of how loving you are, how much you cared about people, filled his head for the rest of the day. His employees and business partners must’ve thought he had completely lost his mind: Jimin’s face had this faraway look the entire day, only changing when his mind decided to remind him just how delectable you looked this morning.

Jimin had been so out of it, so infatuated by you, he decided that there was no use being at work anymore. He wasn’t getting anything done anyway so that’s how he found himself driving back home early, subconsciously wanting to be back in your presence immediately.

“Y/N?” He called as he walked through the front door, loosening his tie. Not hearing your voice in response made him frown; you were usually waiting in the living room to greet him, with a steaming cup of coffee in hand and a bright, dazzling smile on your lips. He could care less about the coffee if he’s being honest. “Y/N, where are you?”

Silence once again met his ears causing him to frown deeper. Worry suddenly filled his every orifice. Immediately fishing his phone out of his pocket, his fingers almost went on autopilot, dialling your number before pressing the phone to his ear. His heart pounded in his chest when you didn’t pick up by the second ring. Where had you gone?

“Hello?”

“Y/N? Are you okay?! Where are you?” Jimin said loudly, almost yelling. His tone made you confused; you had told him that you were taking Ezra out today. Why was he so frantic?

“I’m fine, Jimin. Ezra and I just picked up some stuff from the store. Why are you asking?”

“I thought…” He couldn’t even finish the rest of his sentence because he didn’t know what he had thought. He cleared his throat, trying to clear your mind. “Never mind. Are you on your way back?”

After you reassured Jimin that you were indeed coming back soon, he let out a sigh of relief and ended the call. He didn’t know why, but not coming home to you felt… Wrong. You had only been here for two weeks, yet he can’t imagine living in this house without you; he sure as hell couldn’t figure out how he lived here with the emotionless statue that was Irene.

Jimin walked past into the kitchen with the intention of getting himself a snack but his eyes drifted to the sink, his mind betraying him by vividly reminding him of the way you looked this morning. God, the way your shirt had stuck to you, tempting him with the subtle curve of your waist, your voluptuous tits… Not to mention the way you had looked at him sternly. Everything about you made his head spin. Everything about you seemingly sent a rush of blood down to his cock.

Biting his lip, his mind veered into uncharted territory by imagining just how good you looked without the dripping wet shirt. He imagined kissing down your body, marking you as his, and his alone, then spreading your legs, suckling on your needy clit…

Before he knew it, Jimin was rock hard in his slacks from the mere thought of you for the second time today. He groaned when he felt his stiffness, irritated with himself because now he knew he had to get himself off, and he hated it. Jimin had only his hand to keep him company for the better part of two years now – himself and Irene hadn’t engaging in sexual activity whilst separated, despite living in the same house, and he couldn’t bring himself to bed anyone else whilst still legally married. Other than that, he found it humiliating to buy a sex toy in person, or even online – his company’s IT people could probably see his search history if they tried hard enough.

Jimin sighed, knowing that his erection was solely his fault. He trudged up the stairs, situating himself in his en-suite bathroom, before turning the shower on. He hated jacking off, but he might as well make the clean-up easy. Stripping out of his work clothes he quickly hopped into the shower, trying to ignore the almost painful stiffness protruding from his body.

Leaning his back and head against the tiled wall behind him, he allowed the water to cascade over him, relishing in the steaming hot water that soothed him. Jimin tried to not touch his boner for as long as he could but five minutes into the shower, he just couldn’t stop himself from gently stroking himself. He grabbed his shower gel, foaming up his hands so that it would be easier to jack himself off.

“Oh, fuck!” He groaned, taking his curved length into his slippery palm, moving back and forth on the sensitive flesh. Continuing the motion, he applied more pressure around his cock, relishing in the feeling of getting himself off. But he so wished it were you.

He wished it were your wet pussy squeezing and clenching around his dick, gripping him like a vice. He wished he could wrap your legs around his waist and pound into you, pulling on your hair and sucking on your neck, leaving deep purple marks so that everyone knew you were his. He wished he could paint the inside of your dripping cunt with his cum, making you hold it in and walk around the office with no panties, seeing evidence of his climax slowly drip down your legs.

“God, Y/N…” Jimin whined, his usually steely voice reduced to a pitched, needy moan. He wanted you so fucking badly, and he was so fucking close. His hand moved with a mind of its own – it doubled its speed, exerting itself to relieve Jimin. Throaty groans left his plump lips, bouncing off of the tiles and echoing throughout the bathroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Somehow squeezing tighter around his pulsating cock, he got more frantic. Jimin began bucking into his fist, ignoring how his wet hair stuck to his forehead. After a few more seconds of fucking into his hand, he let out a growl, his cum squirting up and landing on his toned stomach. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

***

“Why don’t you go up to your room.” You suggested to Ezra, ruffling his hair lightly as you walked into Jimin’s living room. He leaned into your touch, clearly affection-starved, making you frown. You’d have to talk to Jimin about that. You noticed just how cold and strict Jimin was with Ezra; of course it wasn’t your place to say anything about how someone raises their child, but it did become your place when said child has to look for comfort from you.

“Are you going to come paint with me?” Ezra asked timidly, one hand gripping the shopping bag filled with art supplies, while the other gripped your hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

“In a little bit, sweetheart.” You murmured, walking up the staircase that lead to the rooms. “Go set up. I just need to talk to your father about something.”

He nodded, only leaving your hand when you walked past his bedroom. You walked to the end of the hallway, planning on giving Jimin a piece of your mind for being so unloving towards Ezra. Without knocking, you entered the room hoping to find Jimin laying on his bed or something, but he was nowhere to be found.

“Sir?” You said quietly, before berating himself. Hadn’t he told you not to call him that? You cleared your throat, steeling your voice before calling loudly again. “Jimin?”

As you walked further into his room, you heard the shower running, indicating that he was already occupied. You decided to talk to him later, so you turned on your heel and began to walk out the room. Suddenly, you heard Jimin’s voice. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

Huh. Okay. Guess he was cutting his shower short for you.

You sat on the edge of his bed, elbow resting on your crossed legs and chin resting on your open palm. What if you were about to say something hurtful and he decided that he didn’t need you anymore? Maybe this was a bad idea.

In a split second, you decided that this conversation could happen another day, so you started to make your way out of his room. As you were about to lift yourself off of the luxurious bed, the bathroom door opened, letting steam escape the bathroom, and also allowing you to see your boss.

Your jaw dropped open seeing Jimin in nothing but a white towel covering his lower body. Water droplets streaked down his chest, down to his toned abs. Upon seeing them, you felt your mouth go completely dry… Oh god, his body looked like it was carved by the gods themselves. Jimin looked shocked, almost panicked by your presence, which was weird since he had told you he was coming out of his shower.

“I, um… I needed to talk to you.” You said, quickly, standing up hurriedly. “I was about to leave and then you said you’d be coming out the shower. I just assumed you wanted me to wait for you.” Jimin’s cheeks were tinged red, probably from the hot shower, paired with his second-hand embarrassment from you. “I’m sorry. I’ll just speak to you later. I’ll be in Ezra’s room if you need me.”

And with that, you practically ran out of Jimin’s room. You didn’t realise that you didn’t allow him to get a word in. Speed walking to Ezra’s room, you felt your cheeks heat up from extreme embarrassment – how, just how, did you think it was appropriate to check out your boss? Sure, you were living in his house, but it’s totally a different thing.

“Y/N?” Ezra called, confused when you rushed into his room and shut the door behind you quickly. You quickly took a deep breath to calm your radical breathing, then turned to the young child, putting on a dazzling smile.

“Yes, sweetheart?” You replied, seeing a smile forming on his lips due to your own. Your eyes drifted to the painting supplies that he had spread in front of him, all untouched, because he was waiting for you to paint with him.

“Did father give you work? Or can you come paint with me?” He timidly said, eyes full of hope. You felt your smile turn tender; you know that you only spent a few weeks with him, but Ezra had completely captured your heart. But paired with your tenderness, you felt yourself feel a pang of sadness: Ezra never called Jimin anything other than ‘father’. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but it just showed that their relationship wasn’t the best, nor were they the closest. God, how can you think about fixing their relationship when you were drooling over his father five seconds ago? You’re pathetic.

“I came to paint with you.” You reassured, swallowing hard to try and get that delicious image of Jimin out of your mind.

***

After you left, Jimin sat on the edge of his bed, extremely embarrassed that you had heard him jacking off. Sure, you didn’t exactly figure it out, but you had heard him nonetheless. He quickly found himself regretting doing what he did, not because you were his PA, but because you were obviously so innocent; even though he had caught you checking him out, he’s pretty sure that your mind didn’t extend to anything else. Unlike him.

He sighed, knowing that he had to face you momentarily. Park Jimin – a married man – had been thinking of his assistant, who’s selflessly helping him by living in his house, while he masturbated. How fucked up is he? What kind of person –

Stopping his self-derogatory monologue, he realised that he had nothing to be angry or ashamed about: he was no longer a married man, and as far as he knew, you were completely single. What was stopping him from advancing on you? It was almost as if a lightbulb had gone off in his brain. What was stopping him?

With his mind made up, he decided to quickly slip on some clothes, probably needing to make a better impression than just a towel hanging loosely from his hips, then walked down the stairs to where you were making dinner.

“Y/N?” He called, walking with purpose into the kitchen. His eyes fell to you chopping up some onions with Ezra quietly sketching something next to you. He suddenly felt awkward – the whole situation was too… Domestic for him. It was something that he never experienced.

But it was too late for him to change his mind. Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat and directed his gaze to Ezra. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

***

“Y/N?” Jimin called as he walked into the kitchen, seemingly angry. You immediately shrunk, thinking he was about to yell at you for waiting in his room. You felt nervousness fill your being at your pending doom. He turned his attention to Ezra, voice turning even harder. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

That simple command, ‘Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N’, was enough to bring back all your anger that consumed you earlier. Jimin needed to fix his relationship with Ezra, and he needed to fix it fast.

Ezra wordlessly obeyed Jimin, hopping off the chair from next to you and making his way up to his room. Once he was safely back in his room you turned to Jimin, meeting his cold gaze, you refused to back down. Ezra needed you now.

“Y/N, are you –”

“Why do you speak to him like that, Jimin?” You coldly asked, trying to match his usual tone. “That’s what I needed to talk to you about earlier.” He didn’t reply to you, seemingly shocked in your tone and words. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but it seems like no one else is willing to confront you about it. Ezra is just a child. It’s fine if you speak to me like that, I’m just your assistant, but he’s your child.”

“You’re more than just –”

“I wasn’t finished.” You said, visibly vibrating from fear, yet you still stood your ground. “You’re so cold towards him, Jimin. And why?”

He stood frozen in place, unsure of what to say. In the many years he has known you, you’ve never seemed so… Angry about something. You were almost a completely different person and it made Jimin feel unsure about himself for the first time in forever. He swallowed hard and broke eye contact with you, deciding to instead stare at the floor.

“I know that things must be hard because Irene isn’t here anymore, but you cannot allow that to effect Ezra.” You said softly, knowing that you had overstepped multiple boundaries. He opened his mouth to reply but found that he had no words to say. He had no excuse for his harshness towards Ezra.

Before you could say anything else – perhaps an apology, perhaps more wakeup calls for him – he quickly walked out of the kitchen, probably going to hide in his bedroom. You sighed, knowing that you were too harsh, yet also knowing that it needed to be said.

***

A few hours later, you still haven’t seen Jimin. He had been holed up in his room, doing God knows what, and didn’t even come out for dinner, which left you and Ezra to enjoy a quiet supper. But now it was late, and Ezra was currently knocked out in his room; apparently the shopping trip and then painting for hours was a little too much for his small body. The fact that he was sleeping was bad news for you – it left you to wallow in your thoughts, it left you to overthink.

Sighing as you turned on the shower, you began stripping and jumped into the shower, enjoying the soothing feeling of hot water caressing your skin. However, your relief was short lived as unwelcome thoughts of Jimin swam through your mind. It wasn’t your place to say anything; all you did was hurt him when he needed someone to help him.

‘I should probably apologise’, you mused as you rinsed soap off of your body, feelings of guilt and shame pooling in the pit of your stomach. Nodding to yourself, you quickly wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, before going back to your room, planning to quickly change into your pyjamas before going over to apologise to Jimin. Before you could do anything of the sort, you heard someone knock on your door, making you frown.

“Ezra, is everything okay –?” You began, tightening the towel around you before pausing. It wasn’t Ezra, it was Jimin. He looked exhausted, worried even. Before you could say anything, he beat you to it.

“I think I have feelings for you.” He blurted, causing you to look at him confused. You didn’t even get a word in before a look of realisation came over him and he all but bolted back to his room, leaving you with your mouth agape. What. The. Fuck.

“J-Jimin!” You called, now worried for his sanity. You definitely shouldn’t have yelled at him earlier. He didn’t look back at you as he hurriedly closed his door. Exasperatedly, you walked down the hallway, and opened his door.

He was laying on his bed, face buried into a pillow. If you weren’t so worried about him, you might have actually laughed at the situation. “Jimin?” You softly said, making him groan.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Just ignore whatever I said. Go back to your room.”

“Why are you apologising?” You murmured, shutting the door and walking closer to him, ignoring what he said. He sighed into his pillow; face still buried there.

“Please go. I can’t face you right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You said gently. “You need to learn how to express your feelings, Jimin. You can’t say something like that then run away.”

“I didn’t run away.” He grumbled, barely lifting his face off of his pillow to eye you out. This was so unlike the usual Jimin that you couldn’t help but feel worried. “Go get dressed, Y/N.”

“Then you’ll just lock your door so that I cannot get in.” You replied, suddenly acutely aware of your lack of clothing, making your cheeks heat with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively walked forward, placing a hand on his muscular back. “Jimin? Please talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine. Go to your room.”

“Stop acting like a child.” You chastised, realizing that this was the only way to get him to talk to you. “You need to get used to talking about your feelings. Yours and Ezra’s relationship needs open communication –”

“Y/N, I swear I’ll talk about my fucking feelings as soon as you get some clothes on.” He all but yelled, suddenly sitting up with his eyes running hungrily over your exposed legs. “I can’t tell you what I need to when my mind is set on tearing that God damn towel off.”

You froze, completely shocked that he could ever say such a thing, let alone to you. Quickly shaking off your astonishment and arousal, you knew this was just a ploy to avoid talking about his feelings. Brushing your hand on his cheek, Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut while his chest rapidly rose and fell. Unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t using this as some tactic to get rid of you: he genuinely couldn’t get his mind off of your luscious thighs, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth into it and mark you everywhere.

“Please…” He whimpered, leaning into your touch despite wanting – no, needing – you to leave. He didn’t know if you were at all interested in him, but if by some off chance you were, he didn’t want this to be the first time anything like that happened.

“Talk to me.” You whispered, worry and anxiousness blooming in your heart. What happened to the fearless, scary CEO? Where was he?

Within a millisecond you felt his hands grip your towel-clad waist, flipping you underneath him, allowing his toned thighs to trap your own bare legs. Your heart began to pound rapidly, only adding to the growing heat between your thighs.

“What do you want me to talk about?” He murmured as plump lips ghosting over your earlobe, resulting in a silent gasp to leave you. Why were his lips so soft? And why, oh God why, were you so responsive to his barest touch?

Gulping, you tried to move, knowing that Jimin wasn’t in the right state of mind for this. Even so, it was almost as if your body didn’t want to believe that; your arousal from him doing basically nothing was slowly becoming evident.

“Jimin, you’re not all there at the moment, we can talk about this in the morning –”

“No, you wanted to talk, so let’s fucking talk.” He snapped, running his hands over your calves, head buried in the crook of your neck and his lips ghosting over your pulse point. “Now what do you want me to tell you, Y/N, hmm? Want me to tell you that I want to bury my face in-between your legs?”

“Jimin!” You said, shocked at his lewd words. He didn’t even have the decency to look abashed, nor did he even pull away from your neck. Quietly kissing over your sensitive flesh, you began to feel goose bumps rise over your skin. He paid you no mind as his hands continued to roam over your exposed legs.

“Do you want me to tell you that I want to have my lips wrapped around your pretty little clit? Or how about finger fucking you until you’re cumming all over my hands? Hmm? Is that what you want, baby?”

As much as you wanted this, as much as you wanted him, you couldn’t allow him to do this. Not when he has such emotional issues. Tearing his lips away from your neck, you held his face securely between your hands.

“You’re thinking with your dick.” You firmly said, not missing the way his eyes were clouded with lust. He shook his head, trying to move back to ghost lips over your soft skin. “I cannot let you do something you’ll regret. I came here to talk about your feelings. You need to communicate with me.”

“Let me show you what I’m trying to say… You know I can’t… Use words for this.” He mumbled, feeling the foreign feeling of nervousness gnaw at him. “I’m not going to regret it, Y/N.”

Without waiting for a response, he removed your hands from his cheeks and instead cupped your own. “Can I kiss you?”

You were frozen, unable to think. Was this really happening? Did he really mean it?

Before you could answer him, you felt his soft lips gently ghost over your own, allowing you plenty time to move away if you wanted, before urgently pressing his lips onto yours. He tasted like mint, the fresh feeling making you sigh into his mouth. The tip of his tongue ran over your bottom lip, silently asking you to let him in. Tentatively parting your lips, you felt his tongue slowly slip next to your own, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting upwards to create a small grin.

‘Is this what it is supposed to feel like?’ he mused, feeling butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach. He never had this feeling of Irene; hell, they never kissed unless he was balls deep inside of her, and even then, affectionate kisses were few and far between. Kisses between them used to be a clash of teeth, sloppy, usually out of irritation and just to keep each other quiet because they had a child down the hallway, but this… This was different. This was right.

Pushing his nervousness aside, he took one corner of your towel and slowly pushed it out of the way, giving you plenty time to stop him if you were uncomfortable. You didn’t stop him; you didn’t push him away – and why would you? You wanted him just as much (if not more) as he wanted you. Threading your fingers through his hair, you began kissing him harder, no longer fighting against your need for him. Even though you knew he wasn’t serious about his feelings for you, the sexual tension was too much for you to handle, especially since he looked so delectable hovering over your now naked body.

“Knew you had fucking amazing tits.” He murmured to himself, breaking away from your lips to kiss down your neck and chest. Your towel lay underneath you, no longer a barrier between your bodies. He sucked hard on your chest, marking the flesh just above your nipple with a love bite, eliciting an audible gasp from you.

Your arousal had begun to slowly drip out of you, the sticky fluid making your folds glisten, something that wasn’t missed by Jimin. After trailing down the length of your body, he placed a kiss over your mound, his eyes never leaving your own. With your heart beating profusely, you watched with bated breath as his eyes left yours to settle on your dripping folds.

“You can stop me whenever you want.” He promised, struggling to contain his excitement at finally being able to taste you. Nodding at him, you watched as he spread your thighs, trailing his lips over the sensitive flesh, before abruptly sucking harshly on your inner thigh. He proceeded to do this to your other thigh as well, taking his time to get to where you needed him. After marking both your thighs, he soothingly ran his tongue over the bruised flesh, only adding to your frustration.

“Jimin…” You quietly complained, your pussy throbbing from lack of attention. He looked up at you, laying his chin on your stomach, with a small smile on his features, making your heart stop. He was so gorgeous like this: carefree, happy.

“I have to take my time.” He whispered sadly, his smile still on his face. “I don’t know if you’d want anything to do with me afterwards. You might leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promised, heart wrenching at how lost he looked. Before any more words could be said, before any more reassuring sentiments could be uttered, Jimin peeled apart your folds, strands of sticky arousal visible connecting your lips. Whilst locking eyes with you, he repeatedly licked up your arousal, spreading your folds further to get him what he wants.

His warm, soft tongue glided against your slickness, drawing soft sighs and moans out of you. Your fingers made their way into his hair, needing to feel him in some type of way as he so gently suckled on your dripping core. The pleasure engulfed your entire being, all curtesy of Jimin’s delicate mouth. Slowly, you felt him prod a finger at your honeyed entrance, resulting in a moan being drawn out of you.

While he slowly worked his finger into your core, he leaned up and kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. As you sucked on his bottom lip, making him chuckle at you, he inserted another finger into you, making you clench around his digits.

“Shit, baby, you’re so tight.” He groaned, feeling you contract on his fingers. “When’s the last time anyone stretched you out?”

“Jimin!” You moaned, feeling him massage that spongey flesh inside of you while his thumb rubbing loose circles over your slightly swollen clit.

“As much as I want to hear your moans, I need you to be quiet, baby.” He murmured onto your lips as he continued his actions. You whimpered into his mouth, unable to contain yourself. “Think you can be quiet for me?”

He didn’t wait for a reply; instead, he removed his hot mouth from your lips and placed it right on your clit, sucking harshly. Throwing your head back from the white-hot pleasure, you bit down your moans, wanting nothing more than to please him and be quiet.

“Pussy taste so fucking good.” He praised whilst smirking, a result of you bucking your hips further into him while biting your lip, silently asking for more. Suddenly, he gripped your hips tightly and pressed the flat of his tongue over your leaking cunt, collecting your arousal on his taste buds before swallowing the nectar down, eventually abandoning the movements to stick his stiffened tongue in your entrance repeatedly. His tongue fucked you mercilessly, relentlessly, all the while rubbing forceful circles on your clit. Pressure continued to mount in your abdomen, only amplifying the extreme pleasure Jimin was inflicting on you.

“J-Jimin… I’m going to…” You whimpered, your hands tangled in his hair as he suddenly added two fingers in you, using his mouth to suck on your clit harshly, almost painfully. He spread his fingers into a V, stretching your tight walls, kick starting your climax.

Your body arched off the bed, pushing your exposed breasts into the cool air. Jimin worked you through your orgasm, his tongue and fingers not relenting as you continuously convulsed around him, your cum sliding down into his tongue. Your cunt throbbed, the pleasure foreign after not being stimulated for so long, yet he didn’t stop. Continuing his actions, he began to lick thick, bold stripes with his tongue, giving no sign of stopping, despite you ceaselessly pulling on his hair out of sheer overstimulation.

“Jimin, Jimin, stop!” You whined, feeling the euphoric feeling evolve into something different. Because of your begs and pleas, his tongue relented; removing it from your pulsating clit to your lips. Tasting your cum on his tongue made you whimper, the mere thought of you tainting him was already turning you on again.

His plump, pink lips never left your own, even when he switched from hovering over you to laying next to you, using his hands to continuously rub and knead your soft thighs.

“You did so well for me, baby.” He praised, pulling you over his lap, making you straddle him. Subconsciously, you began to grind down onto him, feeling his hard cock through his pants. Letting out a strangled moan, he forcefully held your hips to prevent you from rubbing your slightly swollen, still glistening folds over his length. “We don’t have to go further, Y/n. Too much has been left unsaid. I just had to have a taste of you before you…”

“You still haven’t told me if you meant what you said.” You whispered, not at all feeling awkward still being the only one who wasn’t fully clothed. “You need to get better with your emotions.”

“I –” He choked out before looking away with tears in his eyes, causing your heart to clench. “How am I supposed to do this?”

“Don’t cry, Jimin.” You whispered, using the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the small tear that fell. “Just tell me how you feel. I won’t judge you. You’ve never judged me, right? You stood by me when no one else would. I’ll never forget how much you helped me, despite not even knowing me.”

He slowly turned back to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and holding you tightly. You felt silent sobs wreck through him, bringing forth tears to your own eyes; but you couldn’t cry, not when he needed someone, anyone, to be there for him. While allowing the sobs to die down and ignoring the sudden wetness on your neck, you stroked his hair soothingly, wondering when’s the last time anyone encouraged him to let out his emotions, encouraged him to cry. You didn’t rush him. You knew this was more than just him and you – it was Ezra, it was his lack of emotion and affection to everyone around him.

“I’m ready to listen whenever you’re willing to talk, okay?” You whispered, softly kissing the top of his head. The action caused him to immediately tighten his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close. After a few moments, his croaky voice rang through the room.

“I feel like the worst father in the world.” He admitted through his tears, small sniffles leaving him. “I know I should be doing better, but how? I don’t know my own son, Y/N. You’ve barely moved in and you know more about him than me. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be affectionate.” He spat out the word, his tears drying on his cheeks.

“You seemed to know how to be affectionate with me…” You said quietly, pointing out how he had become so caring when there was a sexual element. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

“That’s different.” He admitted. “I know what you like, I know how to make you cum, I know the right things to say... That’s just sex. It’s easy for me to do all those things, but anything other than that…”

“Keep going, baby.” You encouraged, using a pet name to show him that you are listening.

“I’m confident enough in my body, but I’m not confident with my words.” He carefully explained, voice cracking slightly. Taking a shaky breath, he finally looked up into your eyes, finding comfort in them despite being scared, terrified even, of opening up like this. “I really like you, Y/N – oh my God, I sound like some teenager –”

Quickly pecking him on his lips, he fell quiet, mesmerized by the softness of your lips, if only for a second. “I like it when you sound like a teenager.” You replied, no teasing tilt to your voice as you looked at him with adoration.

“I can’t love you like anyone else can.” He admitted, still gazing into your eyes, seemingly unable to look away. “I don’t know how to, evidently because I’m already fucking divorced. But I can try. I can learn. You can teach me.” He breathed, saying everything rather quickly. “Please teach me. I can’t let you go. I need you. Ezra needs you.”

“Jimin,” You said carefully, trying not to sound too harsh. “I’m your assistant.”

“I don’t care.” He breathed, heart pounding through his chest. “You can move to another department if you want, but I need you in my life.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You whispered, having to think all the consequences through for the both of you. He frowned at the thought of not being able to work out your relationship.

“Then at least we tried.” He whispered back, his forehead leaning on your own. “But please give this a chance. I need you. I need this. Teach me how to love again.”

***

One year later

“Dad, I’m going to be late!” Ezra huffed, trying to move away from the hugs and kisses his father was trying to give him. Jimin elected to ignore him, kissing his forehead one more time, before Ezra ran to you, hiding behind you. “Y/N, please make him stop! Grandma’s waiting for me.”

“Why would I stop him when I want to do the same thing?” You laughed, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses. Jimin chuckled, gathering Ezra’s backpack, various toys and paint supplies, packing them neatly. Jimin’s mother had asked Ezra to accompany her for a short holiday to the countryside, which Ezra basically jumped at.

“Mommy, please!” He whined, making you freeze. He had never called you that, and by the silence echoing throughout the room, Jimin hadn’t expected it either. Before you could break the silence, Ezra gasped and ran over to his Grandmother, who had just walked through the open front door, hugging her tightly in greeting.

“I’m sorry for rushing you, but we really do need to get on the road.” She apologised, all of you standing outside as Jimin placed Ezra’s luggage in the trunk of his mother’s car.

A few minutes later, you and Jimin were waving goodbye to a retreating car. After seeing them safely off, Jimin snatched up your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it up to his lips. He still had an irrational fear of showing affection to you and Ezra when people were around, but when you were in your safe haven, he was the most affectionate person you’ve ever met.

“Mommy, huh?” He asked while smirking, using his free hand to bring your hips to his body. You smiled and blushed in response, shrugging as if it was nothing, but inside you were jumping for joy. He planted a kiss on your lips before leading you back inside, his hands squeezing your ass gently. “So, mommy and daddy are having some alone time this weekend…”

“Ezra didn’t call you daddy.” You laughed, walking into the kitchen to get a snack to eat.

“Yeah, but you did.” He replied, biting his lip as you gasped, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he brought up your hidden kink that you had accidentally let slip a few nights ago. He hadn’t brought it up until now, making you think that he hadn’t heard your whines as he had been too busy fucking you senseless.

“Park Jimin!” You chastised, swallowing hard as your hands barely grasped the ice cream pint you had gotten from the freezer. He raised an eyebrow at you, squaring his shoulders. “I didn’t think you heard me.” You admitted, blushing tomato red.

“Oh, don’t worry, I heard you loud and clear, baby girl.” He promised, pressing his bulge against you as you leaned on the large island in the middle of kitchen. His hands found purchase in your hair, roughly yanking it backwards so that your neck was exposed. He ran his lips all over your neck, biting the flesh, leaving dark red marks.

“Ezra is barely out the door and you’re already this horny?” You snarked, trying to hide your gasps as he sucked rather harshly on your pulse point.

“We haven’t been able to really fuck lately.” He shrugged, lifting you up on the cold granite surface and wrapping your legs around him. “Quickies aren’t as fun as being buried in this pussy for hours and hours on end, baby.”

“We have to go through that presentation – Jimin!”

“Where are your panties, huh?” He teased, his hand slipping under the hem of your skirt to knead your bare ass. “You’re acting like you don’t want my cock, but you aren’t even wearing anything to cover this pretty, little pussy.”

You didn’t reply, knowing that if you did a whimper would slip out of you, only adding to Jimin’s smugness. He ran his fingers along your folds, revelling in the way thick strands of your arousal clung to his fingers, essentially coating them in your arousal. You couldn’t take it anymore, the charade of not wanting him, so you threaded your fingers through his hair, using it to bring him to your mouth.

“Jimin, please…” You breathed, feeling his fingers dance around your clit. As you spoke, he froze, pulling away from your lips with his eyebrow raised.

“What did you just call me?” He asked sternly, his fingers retreating from your wet cunt, only to come down hard on your clit, the slapping sound echoing throughout the kitchen. “You need to be more respectful, you little brat.”

“Daddy…” You corrected, voice still barely above a whisper. “Daddy, please.”

He slapped your pussy again, ensuring that whimpers left your lips. Your arousal coated his fingers, the sticky substance making his skin glint in the light.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby girl.” Jimin murmured, inspecting his shining fingers before looking you right in the eye and slipping one in his mouth. The sight alone was enough to release another gush of arousal out of you, some of your juices now coating your thighs. “Fuck, you taste good.” He groaned, sucking on his finger. He glanced up at you, his eyes showing just how smug he is. “Want to have a taste?”

Without waiting for a reply, he placed his fingers in your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as you sucked his fingers clean. Maintaining eye contact with him, you swirled your tongue around his digits, licking him clean.

“Like that?” He asked, eyes dark with need. With his finger still in your mouth, you nodded, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “What do you want now, baby?”

“Daddy’s cock.” You instantaneously replied, almost quivering with need. He smirked, allowing you to grind into his bulge, trying to desperately get any source of friction.

“And what do you want to do with Daddy’s cock?”

“Suck it.” You answered, mouth salivating at the mere thought of it. “I want to suck it and taste Daddy’s cum.”

“Then why aren’t you on your knees?”

Wordlessly, you hopped off of the counter, knees harshly hitting the floor, yet you couldn’t care less. Your hands messily unbuckled Jimin’s belt, precariously shoving his jeans and boxers down his muscular thighs before you began to palm him in your hand.

“Don’t fucking tease me.” He groaned, voice deep and laced with seduction. “I still have half a mind of punishing you for being disrespectful, baby.”

Not wanting to get punished – well, at least for now – you slipped him into your mouth, sucking gently on his tip while maintaining eye contact. You gave it a few kitten licks, sucking off his precum, you run the flat of your tongue on the underside of his cock, making him grip your hair. His eyes hardened as he knew you were still teasing him, so he used his grip on your hair to push you all the way down to the hilt, making you take every inch of his cock down your throat.

“Ah, fuck yeah, baby.” He moaned, feeling your throat muscles expand and contract as it tried to swallow all of him. Tears sprung to your eyes, the lack of oxygen evident, but it only made Jimin chuckle. “Who fucking told you to tease me, huh? You wanted my cock in your mouth, baby. Now take. It. All.”

He punctuated every word with a thrust, increasing the tears in your eyes as well as the spit leaking out the side of your mouth. You loved it when Jimin made you take all of him, and it was evident as your arousal had slickened your thighs even more. He eventually took pity on you, pulling you off his dick as you gasped for air, your tears now streaming in rivulets down your face.

Allowing your lungs the chance to get air, you begun using your hands to jack him off, your spittle and his precum acting as lubricant. You stared up at him as his face relaxed with pleasure, head thrown back as your hands continuously pumped his length. Eventually, when your lungs had recovered, you put him back into your mouth, bobbing your head on the parts that you could reach without choking. With your hands fondling his balls, and your hollowed-out cheeks repeatedly sucking on him, he quickly met his end.

Grabbing your hair, he once again pushed you right up against his pubic bone and shot his cum right down your throat. High pitched, melodious moans reached your ears as his orgasm hit him. The salty, tangy taste of his cum coated your taste buds, the taste alone making you clench your thighs.

After the rush of his climax was over, you came off his dick with a ‘pop’, nuzzling your head into his thigh, clearly looking for praise. With his chest still heaving, he looked down at you, affection blooming in his eyes.

“You always suck Daddy’s cock so well, baby.” He murmured, helping you to your feet, bringing your lips to his own. “Such a good girl, hmm? Does my baby want a reward?”

“Swallowing your cum was my reward.” You breathed, still revelling in the feeling of having him fall apart in your mouth. He smirked, enjoying how submissive and God damn fuckable you were. His hand slipped around your throat, squeezing the sides gently, while his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear.

“Run up to our room. By the time I get there, I want you to be naked and laying on the bed for Daddy. Got it?”

Nodding, you felt excitement bloom deep in your chest, knowing that you were truly about to be rewarded. Once he let go of your throat, you all but ran up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to please Jimin. You stripped out of your skirt and stockings before you even made it to the bed, throwing them haphazardly over your shoulder, then you began to unbutton your blouse, peeling off your bra in the process.

Waiting with bated breath, you found yourself squirming with impatience on the cool, silky sheets. Right before you could huff out with irritation, Jimin made his appearance in all his glory. His own shirt was nowhere to be found, and his jeans hung low on his hips, giving you quite a view of his abs and defined v-line.

He paid you no mind, walking over to the closet to rummage around in the drawers. He came back a few moments later with a pair of handcuffs and nipple clamps, as well as something shoved in his back pocket. You quivered at the thought of him tying you up; despite the amount of times it had happened, it still brought an insane amount of adrenaline to your bloodstream.

“Good girl…” He trailed off as he took in your naked body, feeling his cock stir again. The silence in the room faded as he slipped the cuffs around your wrists, then fastened it to the headboard so that your arms were stretched above you, pushing your breasts up into the air. Using this to his advantage, he immediately snapped the clamps onto your nipples, the soft silicone doing little to soften the blow of the pinch.

A hiss left your lips when he tugged on the chain, accentuating the pain that claimed your nipples. He tugged on it again, gauging your reaction, and smirking when you whimpered.

“Does it hurt, baby?” He asked as he kissed your neck, sucking red blotches onto your skin. You nodded in response, causing him to smirk even further. “But you like it, don’t you? Daddy’s baby girl enjoys the pain.”

Before you could respond to him, his lips claimed yours, quickly claiming every breath you had. After a year of being together, Jimin’s lips knew exactly how to move with your own, not to fast nor to slow. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, slowly snaking its way to your own, where it massaged it gently.

In the midst of his lips ravishing your own, his hand slipped into his back pocket, retrieving a clit massager. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand in-between your legs, prying them apart so that he could place the toy right above your clit.

As soon as he turned on the toy, the gentle sucking caused you to moan into his mouth. Continuing to move his tongue in tandem with yours, Jimin slowly began to circle the head of your toy around your clit, getting maddeningly close to the bundle of nerves but never actually touching it.

“Daddy…” You whined, wiggling your hips so that he could place the toy directly on your clit. “Stop teasing!”

“Weren’t you just teasing me when we were in the kitchen?” He cockily asked, once again circling your clit with the toy. “Remember, baby? When you weren’t giving me what I wanted?”

“But you came!” Your argued, voice slowly becoming whinier as your stomach began to clench uncomfortably in anticipation. “I want to cum too, Daddy. Please!”

“You want to come?” Jimin asked, amused at the way your hips were trying to angle themselves to get the stimulation directly on your clit. You nodded, arms straining against the handcuffs. “Why don’t you stop chasing the toy then, huh? Why don’t you be a good girl for Daddy?”

“I am a good girl – ah!”

Your sentence was cut short by Jimin placing the toy right on your clit, turning the toy to its highest setting. A plethora of moans left your lips as the suction steadily grew and grew, simulating someone sucking on your clit.

“Daddy…” You moaned weakly, the pleasure making your brain fuzzy. With the suction directly on your clit, your orgasm loomed over you, driving any other thought out of your head. Needing something to set you off, you began to buck your hips into the toy, moaning and whimpering softly. “Please let me cum, Daddy… Please…”

“You can, baby.” He cooed into your ear, mesmerized with the way your body was lifting off of the bed to claim your orgasm. He quickly tugged on the nipple clamps, knowing that a tiny bit of pain would increase your pleasure tenfold. “Such a good little girl for Daddy, yeah? Always to ready to beg.”

With a yelp, your climax washed over you, turning your bones to nothing and transporting your head to cloud nine. You trembled lightly on the bed, sending a rush of blood back to Jimin’s cock and making him impossibly hard. He watched with bated breath as your chest rose and fell rapidly, the nipple clamps jingling with your actions, a visual indicator of the amount of pleasure your body was facing. Once your orgasm receded, he quickly turned off the toy and replaced it with his mouth, swallowing your cum and treating it almost with reverence.

“Daddy.” You croaked, voice almost gone due to the number of moans and whines that had left your throat just a few moments ago. Even though you had just experienced one of the best orgasms of your life, you wanted more – you wanted him. “Want you.”

“Are you sure you can handle another one, Y/N?” He asked seriously, not wanting to push you further than you could physically go. You nodded excitedly, pulling on the handcuffs to show how ready you were. He chuckled at your eagerness, taking off the clamps off of your nipples. They were puffy and sore, but your breasts welcomed the blood flow.

“Please fuck me.” You whispered, your cunt already clenching at the thought of being filled by Jimin’s cock. He smiled at you, his beauty taking your breath away as he stripped out of his jeans and boxers. His cock was already rock hard as it leaked pre-cum, the substance beading at the tip of his dusky pink head.

“Want my cock, baby?” He asked, positioning himself in-between your legs. You tried to reach out to him, wanting to align his dick at your entrance and watch how he pushed into your core, but the restraints that bound your wrists prevented that. That didn’t stop you from continuously tugging on the cuffs, the metal rattling against the bed post. “Keep acting like a little brat and I’ll leave you here the entire day.”

His threat immediately caused you to cease your actions, wanting nothing more than to feel him in you. Hearing the absence of you pulling on the restraints made him smirk up at you, knowing that you would probably do anything to have him in your cunt right now.

“So obedient.” He mused, leaning back and stroking his length to rile you up. “My baby will do anything for my cock, hmm? Such a dirty fucking slut for my cock.”

“Only for you, Daddy.” You promised, your breathing erratic due to seeing Jimin’s hand enclosed over his dick, lazily fisting the length. “Please fuck me. I need your cock in me.” He raised an eyebrow at you, still wanting to tease you despite being painfully hard. Your pussy clenched when he threw his head back in pleasure, fist pumping up and down his cock. “Jimin, please!”

“Is that how you talk to me?” He snapped, sliding his length into you as his hand tightened around your neck. Without giving you time to adjust to suddenly having his entire cock in you, he began to piston out of you, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. Your eyes rolled back from the pleasure, the feeling of having his cock force open your walls and the feeling of his hand tightening around your neck making you lose all train of thought. “Answer me, you fucking brat!”

“Daddy!” You corrected; voice hoarse from being choked. His hand left your neck, instead using his hands to hold your hips at an angle so that he could go deeper. “I – I’m sorry, Daddy!”

Hot tears of pleasure ran down your face, the droplets falling to your chest. “You’re crying?” He scoffed, somehow making his hips rut into you faster, your tits moving from each powerful thrust. “Is my cock too much for you to handle?” He asked, thumbing your clit, bringing more tears of pleasure to your face. You shook your head at his question, showing him just how well you could take his dick. “Hmm, good girl. Such a good slut for my cock, huh? Take it all, baby. Take every fucking inch of me in this tight pussy.”

“Going to… Gonna cum.” You whimpered, feeling your pleasure reaching a precipice quickly. He groaned as he felt your walls hug his length even tighter due to your impending orgasm. His thumb continued to work quick, tight circles over your clit, the white-hot pleasure surging through your veins and setting off your climax. “Daddy!”

“Ah, fuck, Y/N!” Jimin moaned, your convulsing cunt bringing about his own orgasm. Your body arched off of the bed once again, your orgasm seemingly too intense for your body to handle. Your thighs trembled and a heat rushed up to your cheeks, sweat gleaming on your body. Jimin’s cock was coated in your cum, the sheer feeling of it causing him to shoot his hot cum deep in you. High pitched curses and moans left his plump lips, ropes of his cum coating your walls as both of you tried to control your heavy breathing.

Without pulling out of you, Jimin reached up and unlocked the handcuffs, throwing them onto the floor to join your long-forgotten clothes. Flipping you over so that you were laying on him, he kissed your raw wrists gently, despite both of your chests still heaving.

“Thank you, baby.” He murmured, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

“You were amazing, Jimin.” You said softly, enjoying the feeling of having his skin directly on your own. “I wouldn’t want this with anyone other than you.”

“I love you.” He blurted, unable to contain his feelings any longer. You sucked in a breath, not believing your own ears. It was the first time he had ever said something like this. “I know it’s been a journey and a half with me, teaching me how not to be some cold asshole, but God damn, I love you, Y/N. I can’t imagine a life without you; I don’t want to imagine a live without you.”

“I love you too, Jimin.” You replied, a smile creeping on your face as your heart fluttered. “I love you more than you will ever know.”

***

↳ a/n: so that was the first instalment of my colour series! I plan on doing a one shot for each member based on meanings of a specific colour. Please let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged in the future one shots :)

#jimin smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts #jimin x reader #park jimin #au #bts fan fiction #bts imagines #smut

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jisungscaramel · 4 years

Text

can i | changbin

❀ genre: smut, college au ❀ pairing: changbin x reader (fem) ❀ word count: 1.5k

[warning] explicit sexual content, oral (fem receiving), public sex, bathroom sex, alcohol consumption

“Can I kiss you”

Holy fuck, let’s rewind a bit… okay, more than “a bit”:

“Little, you have to come to my party this time,” the way your fraternity big, Chan, hit you with that ‘uwu’ face had you questioning who the older one in this line was.

Nevertheless, you assured him, “Lol big, I’ll be there. How many times do I have to say it?”

“Well,” he crossed his arms, “seeing how you always say you’re gonna come and then flake, you’ll need to keep saying it ‘til you’re literally at my place.”

“Okay fine, how about this? If I don’t come, I’ll treat you to sushi.”

Chan snickered, “well RIP to your bank account…”

But when the time came several hours later, you were at Chan’s doorstep as promised, dressed casually… which, for you, meant a half-beat with lashes, shorts, a cropped hoodie, and hoops.

“Little! You’re here!” he was practically speaking in all caps, constricting you in a classic bone crushing hug… yep he was definitely drunk, and no, it wasn’t his actions that gave it away, it was the apparent smell of lychee soju and yakult.

For most of the night, things were practically the way you expected it to be: you drank, you danced, you hung out with friends, you made some new friends… but then something caught your eye, or rather, someone.

The sound of clipped laughter carried through the kitchen despite the oscillating chatter and the constant booming music. You couldn’t help but scan the room to see where the source was, and your gaze froze once you did.

He was unfamiliar to you, but that was the least of things that had you intrigued.

His dark hair was neatly cut on the sides, revealing the thick gunmetal hoops adorning his ears. His bangs almost completely curtained his eyebrows, drawing more attention to the gorgeous details of his eyes. His outfit was… simple - a white t-shirt, ripped black jeans, Adidas originals, and a gunmetal chain to match his hoops - but it managed to complement his body so well. You didn't even want to get started on how stunning his honey skin looked embellished with black ink.

It didn’t even occur to you that you were staring that intently until he looked up and locked eyes with you. It’s hard to explain the sensation that took you over in that moment.

Butterflies? Nervousness? Desire? It was everything, honestly. The medley of sensation stirred your heart.

How long would you be stuck in that moment with him? Well, you didn’t get to find out, because seconds later, your friends reeled in your escaping focus.

Only a few minutes later, Chan came up to you. “Little!”

“Yeah?”

He placed a hand on your shoulder and gestured to the other end of the kitchen. “See that guy over there with the tattoos in the white shirt?”

“Mmm yeah, what about him?”

“He’s really cool; his name is Changbin, he’s an exchange student from Korea and he’s thinking about rushing Sigma…”

“And?” You didn’t mean it in a standoffish manner or anything like that. You were genuinely curious since you figured Chan had something specific to tell you about this “Changbin,” seeing as he came up to you just to talk to you about him.

“Okay, well he told me he thinks you’re really pretty but he’s only been here for a week and he’s nervous about approaching you…”

“Oh I’m definitely down… don’t worry about it though, I’ll handle it… somehow.”

You slipped away from Chan to go to the bathroom.

‘Alright, looks like the lashes are still in place,’ you took a final moment to fix your hair before opening the door to exit, and you involuntarily jerked your head back a bit, not expecting someone to be standing at the door.

He looked just as surprised as you did, eye widening while he lowered the fist he was about to knock the door with.

It was him.

You visibly relaxed. “Uh.. hi(?)” Okay, never mind, you still felt a bit awkward.

“Hey…” he said, facial expression morphing to become more serious, more deliberate, as if he was determined. Determined to do what, though?

You didn’t want to assume anything about how this would play out, but of course, the universe had to work in mysterious ways.

The unidentified tension hanging in the air thickened into something more tangible, more stifling. It was probably only a few seconds, but it felt much longer - his eye contact definitely had more of an effect on you from the reduced distance.

‘God damn, he’s stunning.’

His left hand steadied on the door frame while the other reached behind you, hovering over the small of your back. The sporadic taps of his fingers on your bare skin made your nerves tingle, sending waves up your spine… and down.

He carefully leaned in, lips almost touching your ear, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah…”

And without missing a beat, his lips were on yours. His hand pressed firmly against your back, crashing your body onto his. He guided you further into the bathroom so he could close the door with his free hand - and lock it.

You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck, and his hands dipped down to your thighs, lifting you to the bathroom counter. His grip remained on the back of your knees, thumbs massaging circles into your thighs.

You could feel the increasing pressure of the pulse in your core, and the subtle grind of his hips on you catalyzed it.

You gasped when his lips pulled away from yours. Any disappointment you felt from the loss of contact disappeared when his lips latched onto your neck. His tongue probed your skin through the gentle kisses before latching onto a particular sensitive area below your jugular.

The way he was sucking and biting that spot had you gripping his hair and moaning into his ear. He chuckled softly against your skin, only further exciting your nerves.

He started trailing down to your collarbones, fingers toying with the hem of your sweatshirt to give him proper access to them. “Can I take this off?”

You responded wordlessly by methodically pulling the top over your head, wedging it between your back and the mirror.

It seemed like he wanted to take his time at first, slowly massaging your breasts under your bra, peppering more kisses on your exposed skin, but as his lips moved lower and lower down your abdomen, he seemed to be in a rush - kisses becoming hasty and sloppy.

You leaned back, head touching the glass of the mirror, to give him better access to your body. As he kissed below your navel, his fingers tugged at the button of your jean shorts.

He gazed up at you with a look of sinful innocence. “Can I…?” His hand cupped your pussy over the thick fabric.

“Yes,” you gasped, involuntarily grinding against his hand.

He smirked.

He brought his teeth to the button and flicked it open, pulling the zipper done in the same fashion. You propped your body a little, and in seconds, your shorts and underwear were falling onto the bathroom rug.

Now he was on his knees, prompting you to open your legs further for him with a gentle press on your inner thighs.

He licked his lips at the sight of your dripping desire, dipping his head down while staring into your soul with outpouring lust; his expression alone was enough to send electricity through your body, and he kept that eye contact locked as he pressed the flat of his tongue on your clit.

He slowly added more pressure.

You whined and snapped your hips on him. His tongue started working on your clit, moving it from side to side, up and down, and everything in between. Then without warning, he french kissed it, taking your juices in with an exaggerated swallow.

His eyes rolled back for a second, “So sweet.”

He alternated between kitten licks and little flicks, progressively slowing his pace. Then he ran it back in reverse, adding his fingers to the mix of stimulation.

The orgasm that was already building in you only amplified. You didn’t even bother to hide the melody of your pleasure - surely no one outside would hear you over the loud music.

His tongue stopped moving for an instant.

“Come for me, baby,” his words reverberated through your core.

That was all it took to send you over. “Fuck, Changbin.” The wave of your orgasm poured over his lips and he drank you down, taking it all in.

When he stood back up, he sweetly kissed you, remnants of you on his lips.

He pulled away and licked his coated fingers, playfully grinning at you. “How did you know my name?” He shifted over to the sink to rinse his face.

“Um…” You got down from the counter to pick up your clothes, “Chan may have told me earlier…”

He looked up at you through the mirror, smirk widening. “I see… do you wanna get outta here?”

“Depends… do you have a single?”

><><><><><><><

A/N Binnie has really been coming for my soul as of late >_<

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queenbirbs · 4 years

Text

I was the son you always had | Ethan x MC

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC

Warnings: discussion of drug use, language, neglect

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: Ethan confronts Louise. Post chapter 13.

Notes: Title taken from the Bear’s Den song “Above the Clouds of Pompeii.”

------

The years have not been kind to Louise Ramsey.

If that’s still her surname, of course, Ethan isn’t sure. It’s what he gave Marlene for the admission forms; she had the wherewithal, at least, to not even bat an eye at the name. He’s always liked Marlene, even if attempting to curb hospital gossip is like trying to put out a fire with an eyedropper. Having been fourteen hours since she was admitted, it’s no secret that Doctor Ramsey’s mom is the OD in room 532.

It’s the same room he’s standing in front of, trying to gather his wits. The rest of the staff look on from behind their pillars and charts, as if the art of discretion is lost on them all. Ethan stamps down on the reflex to bark and snarl at them. It’ll only stoke the flames if he does.

“You have to turn the knob to open it.”

That tight feeling in his chest eases up a fraction. He turns to see Sloane, propped up against the wall beside him. In a sea of a thousand curious faces, her expression of concern is a welcome sight. Resisting the urge to reach for her, he opts for a look of disappointment at the joke, or attempt thereof. She answers with that gentle smile of hers, the one where the left corner of her mouth crinkles up and her dimple appears. Her gaze drifts from his and over to the window; on the other side is Louise, the pallor of her face covered in a light sheen of sweat. The hands that used to hold his as they crossed the street tremble around the pages of whatever magazine she’s pretending to read.

“I don’t know why I’m bothering. I already know why she’s here.”

“No, you think you know why,” Sloane says, and he hates it, but he knows she’s right. “The only way to know for certain is to talk to her.”

“And what would that conversation sound like? Hi, I’m Doctor Ramsey, the son you left without a backwards glance when he was eleven years-old. How was the turkey sandwich you had for lunch?”

She leans her temple against the wall, her eyes glazing over in that familiar way that tells him she’s deep in thought. After the eleven hours she’s been here, thick strands have come loose from her messy bun to settle against her neck. The urge to sweep them away, to settle his hand there and massage at the tight lines is a fierce one.

“Treat her how you would a patient. Ask her about her pain management, about her next steps once she’s discharged. That will give you a feel for her attitude towards you, and towards herself in general. It’ll give you a foundation to start with.”

Reaching out, Sloane squeezes his arm once, then twice, before letting her hand fall away. He misses the warmth of her immediately.

“Alright,” he sighs. “Yes, thank you, that… helps. Truly.”

Before he can work up the nerve, she beats him to his next question.

“I’ll be in the office when you’re done, if you--”

“Yes.”

That smile winks at him again as she pushes off the wall and heads down the hallway. Ethan watches her for as long as he can, until the throng of staff swallows her up. Turning back to the door, he catches Louise watching him before her eyes dart back to her magazine. She hasn’t turned the page for quite some time, and he doubts the full-page cologne ad is somehow keeping her attention. Before he has to resort to a pep talk, he turns the knob and steps inside.

Louise looks up as he closes the door behind him.

“Oh. Hello.”

“Hello,” he greets through a throat stuffed full of cotton. “I’m Doctor Ramsey. I’m here to perform a check up and see how things are going.”

Her mouth opens and closes, her eyes growing wide beneath her bangs.

“Well, okay, yeah, but -- I mean, I know you. I know who you are. You’re my son.”

The angry retort he prepared never comes, drowned out by the roaring pulse in his ears as he picks up her chart from the foot of the bed and reads through it.

“Yes, I’m aware.” He brushes off her words and continues in a forced monotone. “We’ve got you on lofexidine to help reduce the detox symptoms. Even with the assistance, those symptoms will likely peak in the next day or two, depending on how heavy your usage is.”

“I know.” She toys with the magazine as she speaks. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Ethan lifts his gaze from the chart and looks -- really looks -- at his mother for the first time in twenty-six years. The dark brown hair she used to tease with her can of Aqua Net, making the hallway outside the bathroom smell of chemicals, is now a sallow gray. The warm arms that would hug him tight are gaunt from malnutrition. The bright face that he remembers smiling down at him, or blowing raspberries against his cheek, or peeking around his door to call him down for breakfast is no more. Pockmarks mar her skin, more visible now without the thick coat of makeup. Deep grooves circle underneath her eyes and along the curve of her cheeks, carving at her skin.

“When did the drug use start?” he asks.

“We were at the tail end of the nineties recession, but layoffs were still happening across the company. I was lucky to keep my job, but with a forty percent cut of staff, those duties had to be distributed elsewhere.” She heaves out a sigh, a weary chuckle following after. “Being the finance manager, I was elsewhere. My coworker, Brenda, she’s the one who got me started, going on and on about how it made her feel relaxed and on top of things. I grew up in the seventies, so I’d taken an occasional trip or two with LSD. It didn’t seem so bad just to try it out. At first, it was a line or two to get through the fourteen-hour work day. Then, after a few weeks, two lines became five. And then…” she drifts off, her hand dipping from side to side.

“Not that working those long hours helped in any way. I never got to spend time with you -- that was your father.” It’s impossible to miss the bitterness in her tone, the downward turn of her lips. “He got to play stay-at-home dad until you turned two. He got to hear your first words, watch you take your first steps. He’d tell me all about what I’d missed when I got home: how much fun you had at the park, how well you did in the spelling bee, how high you placed at the science fair. He got to be the parent, and I was just the moneymaker.”

The dull roar in his ears changes to a shrill pitch, drowning out every sensible thought inside his head. The sob story was to be expected, but the jealous jabs at his dad are a step too far. How dare she walk back into his life and insult the man who raised him? She knew nothing about that first year. How Ethan would come home from school and spot the late notices on the kitchen table. How Ethan would creep down the hallway at night and see his dad sitting on her side of the bed, going through photographs and crying. How, three days before Christmas, the electric was shut off and his dad made the living room into their own campsite, complete with a roaring fire to cook beans on and flashlights to tell make-believe stories.

“So you decided to skip out and miss twenty-five more years of my life?” he snaps.

“Oh, Ethan,” she sighs, “it wasn’t like that.”

“Bullshit.”

“I had to--” she stops and drags in a breath. “I snapped, that day. I’d worked there for thirteen years, right out of high school. I got called into the boss’s office. I thought I was getting a promotion. Instead, I was reprimanded for not performing well enough. That if I didn’t shape up I’d find myself without a job at all.” Her fingers tremble with effort as she pushes her bangs aside, her glare set firmly on the tiled floor. “And then I came home -- early, because I was crying in the bathroom to avoid making a scene -- and your father… he stopped me in the kitchen. He told me that I was working myself too hard, and that I should try to take some time off to be with you two.”

She looks up at him then, sympathy for her misdeeds plainly written across her face. Ethan wonders if he’s still that good at reading his own mother, or if she’s that good of an actress.

“Then you went to the store,” he finishes for her. “And you never came back.”

“I went to the bank,” she corrects, as if, in the grand scheme of things, it matters. “I took out my money and got in the car and drove. I made it all the way to Richmond before a state trooper took note of my tags. After I made it clear that I’d left of my own volition, he let me go, and that was that.”

The flippant way she describes those harrowing days feels like a slap in the face. His next words are spoken through clenched teeth, as he attempts to reign in the anger that burns through him.

“You could’ve… why didn’t you leave us a note? We both thought something terrible had happened. He never said anything in front of me, but I wasn’t stupid. I watched the news. I saw what happened to other moms who disappeared.”

He remembers sitting in Mrs. Lemon’s living room, their next-door neighbor and his babysitter while his dad was out searching. He remembers the ticking of her crochet needles and the smell of the litter box that needed changing and the feel of the corduroy couch under his flannel pajama pants. He remembers Unsolved Mysteries playing on the box television in the corner, the host stepping out from behind a shadowy pillar to ask for his help solving a mystery. He remembers asking for a pen and paper to write to Mr. Stack and see if he could air his mom’s case.

“I… like I said, Ethan, I just-- I snapped. I had to get out of there. Every day it felt like I was drowning, but then, seeing you, coming home to you, gave me enough air to breathe.” A wistful little smile appears, but soon falls away as she continues. “I made it all the way to Tampa and lived there for a few years with an old friend. After that, I moved around some, changed my name, tried to make something of myself.” She gives a hapless little shrug and reaches up to pull at the dry skin on her lip. “But I was hooked. Still am, I guess. And that always kept me from reaching out -- because I did think about it, Ethan. I did.

“I tried rehab a few times, and the other moms -- their children wrote them letters and came for visiting hours. They talked about all the wonderful things they were going to do together once they stopped using.” Louise yanks at her lip again, cursing when her fingers come away flecked with blood. “But when I thought about writing to you, the thought of you seeing me like that stopped me. And the longer I stayed, the more I watched those families stop visiting and the letters stop coming. And it seemed… pointless.”

Odd, he finds, that she refused to reach out over fears that he would abandon her. He wonders if she rehearsed her lines beforehand, or if she’s this good at ad-lib. The misty eyes and pitiful expression only serve to enhance the performance; she wears a mask, and her face grows to fit it. Buried underneath all that disappointment and resentment, though, is the what if. What if she’s telling the truth? She could have easily been another dejected workaholic that fell victim to her vices and sacrificed her relationships in the process. As a physician, Ethan knows how tight of a hold addiction can have on a person.

“It’s different,” Sloane had said in the on-call room, those bright eyes of hers shadowed with experience, “when it’s not an article or a case study, but your own parent -- someone you’re meant to rely on.”

But he can’t -- won’t, even -- play devil’s advocate, not now. Not with the mother who walked right out of his life and never looked back.

Wandering over to the window, Ethan watches his city move below him; people and cars and buses and trucks going and going while he wastes time here.

“For four days, I didn’t believe Dad.” Unwilling to turn back to Louise, he searches for city hall as he speaks, finding an odd comfort in the ugly, familiar structure. “I thought he was lying when he said you left. He told me you were okay, but that you decided you needed some space from him. I think that early on… we-- he thought you would come back. Then four days became a month, then three, then school started, and when I had friends over I had to explain how it was only Dad now and that you’d left. That no, we hadn’t heard from you, but no, we didn’t think you were dead.”

Though, in his weakest hours, during that first year of her being gone, Ethan had thought about it. Would that look of pity be easier to handle if the concept of choice was taken out of the equation? If cancer or a car accident had taken her away, would that be more palatable for his friends to understand, rather than her choosing to abandon him? He could’ve been the kid making lame dead mom jokes, instead of the kid hiding his tears and fumbling his way through an explanation on why he didn’t need to make a Mother’s Day card this year, Miss Riddleberger.

“You can imagine my surprise,” he says, “when Dad told me you were back in town and wanting to reconnect.”

“Because I -- I do want to, Ethan,” she pleads, her voice cracking over his name. “I’ve spent all these years wondering about you. But look at you! You’ve done so well for yourself. Your father, he told me about how well you did in college, that you graduated the top of your class at medical school.”

“That was nice of him.” The reply is sour in his mouth, bitter and painful. “Did he also tell you that when I was thirteen, I fell off my bike and broke my arm and, despite everything, I cried for you? Or when everyone else was getting graduation photos with their parents, Dad had to stop another family to get our picture taken?”

Louise’s breath hitches artfully; he imagines that she’s clutching a hand over her heart, the picture of a distraught mother.

“No, he… didn’t tell me about any of that.”

“No,” he agrees with a humorless chuckle, “no, I don’t imagine he would have. I imagine he also didn’t mention that I saw you leaving your motel.”

She makes a noise of interest at that. “Then,” Ethan continues as he finally turns back to face her, “my friend was in a nearby market and watched you shoplift. Oh, but before that, she overheard your interesting phone conversation.”

Louise studies him for a long moment and he feels eleven years-old again, sitting on that corduroy couch, hoping and hoping and hoping his mom would come home safe. Some small part of him wants to be wrong about her. But Sloane has taught him time and again that gut feelings can’t be brushed aside.

“That call had nothing to do with you,” Louise tells him.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Ethan settles his shoulder against the window.

“I’ve been a physician for almost a decade now, which means I’ve gotten rather good at knowing when patients are lying to me.” He holds up a hand to stall her immediate protest. “I also know that standing here and arguing with you is a waste of my time. There’s someone out there who I care about a great deal, who I treated horribly earlier because of you, yet here I am. So, here is my offer: once your three days are finished here, I’ll help you secure a spot with a rehab facility. One of the country’s best is right outside the city and I know the director there. Once you’re in recovery, you can decide what you want to do with your life.”

“I don’t think I can afford--”

“All expenses during your stay will be paid for by me.”

“Oh.” Her eyes grow wide and her lower lip trembles. “That’s-- thank you, Ethan, that’s--”

“Let me be clear about this, though,” he interrupts, straightening to his full height and pinning her down with his gaze. “This is the only financial help I will give you. This isn’t an act of forgiveness. I still don’t trust you, and right now, I’m not sure I ever will. But you--” he clenches his teeth against the sudden wave of emotion that batters at him, “--you’re still my mother.”

From his coat pocket, he pulls out a thick, crinkled envelope. Crossing the room, he hands it to her; she pops the tape and slides the card out. It’s been twenty-six years, but he can still remember the glittery flowers on the front, the curly font of whatever silly poem he read aloud to his dad in the card aisle when choosing it.

“You held onto this for all these years?” she asks, tears spilling out onto her pale cheeks. As she opens the card, the dried husk of a flower falls out and onto her blankets; a daisy, her favorite. He remembers sneaking onto Mr. Taylor’s lawn to steal it.

“You left before I could give it to you.”

It’s the last thing he has of hers. Something settles deep inside his sternum at the notion that he’s free of it. “Do you agree to the terms I’ve set?” he asks after a moment.

Louise looks up from the card and smiles at him.

“Yes.”

------

“You didn’t have to come with me.”

“You’re right. I didn’t.”

This late in the evening, with most of the patients fed and medicated, the only sounds are the low murmur of televisions and steady beeps of monitors; the white noise of second shift.

“Did you manage to get any sleep?” Ethan asks, unable to stop the quick once-over he gives her.

“I took a nap on the couch. When I woke up, someone had covered me with a blanket. It was sweet.”

Sloane side-eyes him, that little smile making its appearance for the third time today. He wonders when he’ll stop keeping track of something so silly.

“That was very kind of them to do,” he says.

“It was.”

They make it to room 532 and Ethan stops to shift the tray of food in his hands. Sloane lets out a grumble about men and opens the door for him. He’s forced to a halt right inside the doorway when Sloane stops and flashes him a concerned glance over her shoulder.

“Wait, where’s your mom?” she asks.

“What?”

Nudging her forward, Ethan steps into the room. He takes in the freshly-made bed, the chemical smell of a hospital-grade disinfectant, and, most alarming: the lack of his mother or her things. Turning on his heel, he beelines to the nurse’s station and slams the tray down onto the counter. The plate cover pops off, sending potatoes and green beans into the floor. Kendra glares at him from her seat behind the computer.

“What crawled up your--”

“Room 532 -- where’s the patient?” he growls.

With a huff, she moves to the keyboard and pecks at the keys. Ethan watches the realization spread across her face and hates seeing her anger turn to pity. He’d rather have the former.

“Says here patient discharged herself around four.”

“Why wasn’t I informed?”

“I’m sorry about that,” Kendra replies in a cool tone, then doubles down when he scoffs. “Really, I am. But you’re not listed as the primary attending, and shift change happened right about then. It fell through the cracks.”

Something wet slides across his hand. Ethan looks down to see apple juice dripping over the side of the tray and into the floor. Awareness of the mess he’s made shakes him out of the haze of outrage.

“No, I’m the one who--” he clears his throat and tries again, “--I’m sorry, Kendra. There’s no excuse for my outburst. I’ll get this cleaned up.”

“I can page for a janitor,” she offers.

Ethan shakes his head and crouches down, scooping up the cold food with his hand and dumping it back onto the tray. Before he can stand and start to locate the closest cleaning cart, familiar orange sneakers appear beside him. Sloane crouches beside him and hands him a roll of paper towels, spraying down the counter and floor as he tears off a few sheets. They pile the used towels onto the tray, now covered in a mountain of food scraps and trash. If Ethan were a metaphorical man, he would consider it an allegory for the day he’s had.

Kendra waves them off when they move to pick up the tray.

“I’ll have one of the dietary aides pick it up on their way through.”

“Thank you,” Ethan murmurs.

A nudge at his side pulls him from the slippery slope of his thoughts. Sloane tips her head down the corridor, the invitation hidden away in the lift of her brow. He answers with a nod and follows her towards the elevator.

------

Ethan drops down onto the couch, unable to quiet the weary sigh that escapes him. Jenner hops up to join him, knocking her big head against his shoulder as she snuggles close. He wraps his arm around her and rubs the white patch on her chest; Jenner settles her nose against his chin and lets out a chorus of happy grunts.

Circling the couch, Sloane takes her spot beside him and hands him a tumbler.

“How are you feeling?”

It doesn’t escape his notice that she completely skipped over asking him if he wanted to talk in the first place. The response to that would have been an emphatic no. His throat feels full of all the vague answers he could give instead, of all the ways he could brush aside her question. He thinks about sitting on Mrs. Lemon’s corduroy couch that first awful, terrible night; remembers Mrs. Lemon asked if he was okay; remembers how he boxed up all those new, scary feelings and lied.

A great, shuddering breath escapes him.

“What’s wrong with me?” he rasps.

“Oh, Ethan--”

“I’m serious, Sloane,” he interrupts, clenching his fist tight around the glass. “There has to be some explanation, right? Because that’s-- that’s twice now she’s left without even bothering to say goodbye. And she didn’t-- she never even said she was sorry, for any of it.”

He’s unaware of his own tears until he tastes the salt of them on his tongue. His chest aches from the uneven breaths he takes, his lungs burning from the effort. Jenner whines and licks at his jaw, sensing his distress.

“Why didn’t she stay?” he chokes out, unsure of which time he’s referring to.

Sloane slides her hand under his and takes his glass. Placing it on the coffee table, she turns back to him and wraps her arms around him, guiding him back into the cushions. He settles his head on her shoulder, where she runs soothing fingers through his hair.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. I could list your accomplishments until I’m blue in the face, but I know all that doesn’t mean shit to you right now, so I won’t. Instead, I’ll remind you that you’re loyal and honest and hardworking and, despite the losses you’ve experienced and despite the ways you try to hide it, you care more about helping people than anyone else I know.” She kisses the crown of his head and hums. “Well, besides me, of course.”

Her intended effect works; despite it all, he feels a laugh slip through his aching throat -- it’s feeble, but it’s there.

“She’s the one missing out on knowing you,” Sloane assures. “We can’t choose who our parents are. You and I happened to get stuck with the short end of the stick when it comes to our mothers.”

Ethan knows the gist of her issues with her own mother; knows she left Sloane and her little brother at their grandparents when she was nine.

“Tell me,” he requests, to which she hesitates. “I want to know. This isn’t some tactic to… I’m not trying to avoid my own troubles, I promise.”

Her fingers resume their movement as she heaves out a sigh.

“Most of the time, it was me and Milo by ourselves, waiting for my mom to come home from work or from the club. She would come in and pass out on the couch. I knew how mad she would get the next morning if she stayed there, though, so I’d wake her up and guide her to her bedroom, make sure she took her contacts out and took some ibuprofen. On the weekend, she would have her friends over and they would fill our little apartment. But it was exciting, being around so many people, watching all of them, talking to them, fetching beer or cigarettes for them when they were too drunk to stand. Sure, sometimes they would get violent, or steal, or fight, and I would hide Milo with me under my bed until the cops left. But she threatened to drive down to Indiana and leave us in a cornfield if we got her in trouble, and I believed her.

“Then Milo started school and cut himself on some playground equipment. He has hemophilia, so the blood wouldn’t clot, and they called her to come pick him up. When she called back to tell the school nurse to ‘staple the fucking wound shut,’ the school called CPS. The morning after that first state visit, my mom packed us a trash bag each and loaded us up in the car. She told us we were going on vacation to see Gramma and Grandpa. When we got to Virginia, she kissed us on the cheek and told us she’d be back in a week. I never saw her again.”

Ethan reaches up for her hand and holds it in his, warming her fingers that have since turned cold. He can feel the small hitch in her breath as she clears her throat to continue.

“Thankfully, Milo doesn’t remember much. But he was the one who sought her out when he got old enough. He tracked her down when he was in college, found her and her new family. She lives in Corpus Christi; she’s the wife of a lieutenant. They have two kids, a boy and a girl, both in high school. After she dumped us off, she started a new life for herself.”

“Did your brother reach out to her?”

The humorless chuckle tells him all he needs to know. He lifts their joined hands to press a kiss to her knuckles.

“She told him he was mistaken. Milo sent her a photo as proof. She countered with an offer for hush money.” Ethan can’t see from his position, but by her tone, he knows she’s rolling her eyes. “Some things never change, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Me too.” Sloane squeezes him tighter to her for a beat. “But I’m telling you my little sob story only because it makes me more appreciative of the people in my life who care about me. At first, that was my grandparents, who never once made me and Milo feel like a burden, who loved us unconditionally. Then, my friends at school, and my friends in college, and my friends now. And you have Naveen, you have me -- you even have your ‘boys,’” she teases. “But you also have your dad, who’s proud of you even when you burn pancakes. Just know that you can feel angry and hurt at her, but her walking away doesn’t diminish the love others have for you.”

Ethan closes his eyes at her reassurances, drinking them in. Unable to work up a response, he lets go of her hand to slide his arm around her waist and pull her impossibly closer. His heartbeat slows at the soft circles she rubs along his back, sinking easily, readily into his embrace.

“I don’t burn pancakes,” he says after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“What?”

“My dad, he said that?”

“Oh, my god.” Sloane barks out a laugh; he enjoys the sound of its return. “Out of all that, you would focus on that?”

“Since it was a testament against my cooking ability, yes.”

“I don’t think he meant literally. More like metaphorical.”

“Metaphorical pancakes?”

“No, you’re-- oh my god you’re the worst.”

“I thought I was amazing and caring and thoughtful?”

“You are, but you’re also the worst.”

He moves out of her embrace and up to meet her gaze. Her kiss is a gentle one, a brush of her mouth on his.

“Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“I think I know just the thing.”

------

Author’s notes and what-have-yous:

I barely googled AMA discharges or protocol for those, but I know that since she is his mom, Ethan would not be allowed to be her actual doctor.

“He wears a mask, and his face grows to fit it” is a line from George Orwell’s Shooting An Elephant, changed slightly for this fic.

#open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #Kaila writes things #f: I was the son you always had #okay second time's a charm right?

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dreamypeaches · 4 years

Text

the lucky ones | pope heyward x reader

summary: after finally confessing his feelings to you, his childhood best friend, you and pope get a surprise.

warnings: pregnancy, cursing, tiny bit of angst, mostly pure fluff

word count: 1.7k

a/n: here’s some good old childhood friends to lovers, unexpected pregnancy, and dad!pope goodness. this is literally just my dream, so pope heyward, if you’re out there, hmu.

“So…”

“Yeah.”

“This is real?”

“No, it’s cake.”

“Fuck you.”

Pope looks down at the two pink lines before staring back up at you. From your place across the couch, you’re chewing on the inside of your thumb, eyes filled with anxiety, unable to read the expression on your best friend’s face. Except, he wasn’t just your best friend anymore. Though you hadn’t labeled it, whatever new level your relationship was on was far from platonic. Not after the way he kissed you and held you that night. Not after you moaned his name in the most sinful of ways. And especially not now, with the weight of reality falling onto your backs.

“What do you want to do?” Pope questions, staring back down to focus on the positive sign, still not fully comprehending the impact such a simple picture could have on his life.

“Well, obviously we can’t keep it,” you comment, not even questioning your words until Pope’s eyes widen, eyebrows coming together as he stands up.

“What do you mean we can’t keep it?” He asks. It’s you’re turn to be shocked, shooting his a confused look as he crouches in front of you, gaze falling onto your torso that was currently growing a little piece of you and him.

“Pope, how could we take care of a baby? You’re about to start medical school and that’s going to be insane! You don’t want to deal with being a father on top of that. And what am I going to do?”

He’s quiet for a moment, fingers reaching out hesitantly, landing on your stomach.

“Yeah, it is going to be insane. But…I love you. I’m completely in love with you and have been forever. There is no one else I’d rather have a life with, have a family with. So why don’t we start now?”

The look on his face is so hopeful you almost want to lie to him. It breaks your heart to have to speak the truth with tears in your eyes.

“You can’t say that, Pope. Sure, we’ve been friends forever, but that’s nothing like being in a relationship, like being parents! What if we don’t work well like that? What if we hate each other? Pope, I never want to hate you.” You start to sob, falling forward into his open arms. He clutches you tightly, wishing just his touch could make everything better.

He’d never expected to be able to touch you like this. You were his best friend since diapers, and he’d been in love with you since he discovered what love was. When he came home for the summer after graduating college, he’d made a decision. He wasn’t the same anxiety-ridden, awkward teenage boy you had grown up with. He was a man and he was accomplished and he had missed you like crazy, only seeing you on holidays and over the summer for the last four years. He’d planned it all out, bringing you to your favorite place when you were kids, a little nook in your backyard you called you’re happy place.

Talking an laughing like old times, Pope held you close before thinking screw it and asking if he could kiss you. Of course you said yes and one kiss turned into a full on make out which led to your bedroom which led to where you were now, sobbing into Pope’s arms as you tried to come to terms with the fact that nothing would be the same.

“We’ll figure it out, love. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to. It’s your choice and I will support you no matter what. Just tell me what you need.” Pope whispers against your neck, holding you like his life depended on it. You take a deep breath, your sobs subsiding as you allow Pope’s words to cover you in a comforting blanket.

“I just want to lay down.”

Pope nodded, standing with you in your arms and carrying you to the bedroom. You curled up in his side, whispering to him to turn the tv on. He did as you asked, putting on your favorite show and allowing you to escape for a while. You spent the rest of the day like that, intertwined with each other, not speaking despite the thousands of thoughts running through your heads. Exhaustion overtook you eventually, the emotional weight of the day washing over you and forcing you into unconsciousness, but not before you made a decision.

When you woke, it was early the next day. Pope, of course, was already up, always an early riser. He still had an arm wrapped around you scrolling through his phone before dropping it to the side as you stirred beside him.

“Good morning, love,” He says, shooting you a smile. You smile back up, your thoughts before falling asleep coming back to you, making your smile light up.

“Let’s do this, Pope,” You say. His brow furrow for a moment, not understanding the context of your statement. “Let’s have a baby. I love you, I want this with you. We can do it.”

Pope’s look of confusion bursts into one of pure happiness, his arms gripping you in a bear hug and pulling you onto his chest as he peppered your face with kisses. The joy was contagious, giggles falling from your lips as Pope started to list off all the ways you could make it work, and you couldn’t help but believe him. You looked into the future and you knew it would be okay.

1 year and 9 months later

Your phone buzzed for the millionth time that morning as you prepared breakfast. The smile that had yet to leave your face only grew as you read the message from Kie.

Tell Sylus happy birthday from his favorite auntie! Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

You turn to now one year old, happily eating cheerios and blueberries in his high chair.

“Sy, Auntie Kie says happy birthday!” You say.

“Kie! Kie!” Sylus exclaims, grin showing off his two new bottom teeth.

“What about Kie?” Pope asks, walking into the kitchen in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, hair still damp from the shower.

“She just texted, wishing Sy a happy birthday. I’ve been blowing up all morning, not that any of the messages are for me. I swear, everyone we know loves our child more than us.”

Pope chuckles, arm encasing your waist as he pecks you on the cheek.

“Who can blame them, he is the cutest child in the universe. Aren’t you, Sy? Aren’t you the cutest little chunky money?” Pope’s baby voice comes out and he moves over to his son, fingers tickling his chubby belly as the now one year old giggled.

“Anyways, not everyone is focused on Sy. JJ texted me this morning congratulating me on getting laid a year and nine months ago,” Pope says. You scoff.

“Of course he did.” You turn the stove off and scoop the eggs onto a plate, adding some toast, fruit, and bacon and laying it in front of Pope. Filling your own plate, you sit on the other side of Sylus, picking up his milk that had fallen to the ground.

“So, what’s the plan for today, love?” Pope asked. The both of you had been lucky enough to get the whole weekend off. Today was Sylus’ actual birthday, tomorrow you’d be making the short trip to the Outer Banks for the grand party both your and Pope’s parents were putting together. It was times like these that made Pope getting into med school at Chapel Hill all the better.

“I was thinking we spend some time at home, maybe open up that new present we got him and let him try it out while we finish packing. Then we can stop at the aquarium on our way to the Outer Banks, you know how much he loves it there. Then we get to your parents house and spend at least an hour watching your mom and my mom gush over out little angel and shower him with an unnecessary amount of gifts. Sy is asleep by 8:30 and we’re in bed by 10.”

Pope nods along, eyes moving from his son to you as you spoke.

“Sounds like a plan.”

The day had gone just according to that plan. You were getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth and washing your face as Pope put Sy down. That clearly wasn’t happening when Pope walked into the bathroom, a pajama clad Sylus in his arms.

“Is he giving you trouble?” You ask with a smile.

“No, actually, there is one last gift for the day. Can you give it to mommy, Sy Sy?” Pope coos at the child, who is playing with a small box in his hands. After asking him once more, Sylus sticks his pudgy arm out, stretching across the space to hand you the box.

“I know it’s Sy’s birthday, but I thought it was the perfect time to give you this.”

You smile, giving Pope a confused look before lifting the lid. Your smile falls, eyes filling with tears as you lift the simple ring from the box.

“Pope…” Is all you’re able to say as your eyes are trained on the shiny object.

“I love you, Y/N. I know we didn’t really do things in the right order, but that’s okay. I love the life we’ve created and I love our son and I love you and I’m ready for this next step. So, will you marry me?”

“Mama cry? Mama cry?” Sylus says, reaching towards you as tears fall from your eyes, racing down and over your smiling lips. You take Sylus into your arms, kissing him on the forehead before looking back at Pope.

“Of course I’ll marry you.” Pope crashes his lips to yours, reducing his passion slightly so you wouldn’t drop Sylus. He takes the ring from you and slips it on to your finger, kissing the skin around it before grinning up at you. Sylus points to the rings and babbles, clearly interested in the bright item. You and Pope just laugh, walking together to Pope’s childhood bedroom. Laying Sylus down in his crib, Pope pulls you against him on the bed as you admire the jewelry on your finger.

“I can’t believe I get to have this. I’m marrying Y/N Y/L/N. I must be the luckiest man in the world.” You giggle, pressing a sweet kiss to his smiling lips. Looking back at the sleeping boy beside the bed, you sigh in content.

“I think we’re both the lucky ones, my love.”

taglist/moots: @jjmaybby @dontjinx-it @butgilinsky @rekrappeter @diverdcwn @rafecameron @prejudic3 @starlightstarkey @https-luna @sunnypogue @obxmxybxnk @jjmayybank @euphoricheyward @socialwriter @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @peachydrews @outerbanksbro @poguestyleskye @softstarkey @bricksatanakinswindow @mdlyncline @poguemackin @downbytheouterbanks @rae131415 @ptersparkers @prkerspogue @moldisgoodforyou @outrbanks @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @tempestuousjj @stargazingstarkey @anxietyandtacos @uwubonebabie @joshy-obx @sortagaysortahigh @overly-b @highondrew @madelynsclines @cherryobx @royalmerchant @wtfkie @toriswrites @ilovejjmaybank @broken-jj @vindictive-hearts @fttayla @rafej-cambanks @stfukie

#pope heyward x reader #pope heyward fluff #pope heyward fic #popeappreciation #obx fic #my writing

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introvertguide · 3 years

Text

Pulp Fiction (1994); AFI #94

The most recent movie for review was the Quentin Tarantino crime thriller comedy (probably more things) Pulp Fiction (1994). It is a very complicated story that is told out of chronological order and focuses on scenes of meaningful character interaction. This confusion meant it lost out to movies with a more straight forward time line at the Oscars, since the move was nominated for seven awards but only took home one. The single win for best screenplay was well deserved and I still believe it is one of the most creatively written films of all time. I want to go over the plot to show what I mean, but let me do my standard due diligence:

SPOILER WARNING!!! I AM ABOUT TO GIVE THE BASIC DETAILS OF ONE OF THE MOST COMPLEX STORY LINES IN MOVIE HISTORY!!! IT WILL NOT LIKELY SPOIL MUCH OF ANYTHING, BUT I AM STICKING THIS WARNING ON JUST IN CASE SOMEBODY FINDS SOMETHING!!!

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The film begins with what is pretty much a prologue but what turns out to be about the middle of the film chronologically. A couple is at a diner and they are talking about robbing banks. They only refer to each other as Pumpkin (Tim Roth) and Honey Bunny (Amanda Plummer). They discuss the best kind of places to rob and they decide that a diner would be a good change of pace. Impulsively, they pull out guns and hold up the diner and...title card with awesome spaghetti western music!

Two hitmen are talking about Europe as they go to do a job. Vincent Vega (Jon Travolta) talks about his adventures with Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson) as they pull up at an Los Angeles apartment complex. The two discuss their boss Marsellus Wallace and how touchy he is about his wife. The boss has apparently sent them to get something from a bunch of guys. Jules and Vincent call on an apartment with 3 college age men and intimidate them into giving over a briefcase with something glowing inside. The case is what they came for, so the hitmen take it and kill two of the men at the apartment...

Flash to a new scene in which Vincent is going to get some drugs from his dealer (Eric Stoltz). Vincent is a heroine user despite cocaine being the popular drug. It turns out Vincent was asked by his boss to take out his wife...the one he is very protective of. He just needs to hang out with her so she is not bored and not get into trouble. To accomplish this, he shoots up some heroine and goes to meet the wife named Mia Wallace (Uma Thurman). They seem to get along and he drives her to a restaurant called Jack Rabbit Slims. The place is fantastic, all the waiters are dressed up like American movie icons and the booths are repurposed cars from the 50s (if this place actually existed, you can be sure I would search it out and go there at least once). The two bond over dinner and then volunteer for a twist dance contest.

Mia and Vincent go back to her house and Vincent goes to the restroom to talk himself out of trying to score with Mia. She is pretty cool, but not worth dying for. While he is away, Mia finds some heroine in the pocket of Vincent’s jacket and thinks it is cocaine. She snorts it and immediately starts to overdose. Vincent panics and decides to drive her to the dealer’s house. The dealer has a nurse kit that comes with a giant needle full of adrenaline which Vincent stabs her with. She wakes up and Vincent takes her back home and is glad that he will live another day...

We jump to a flashback of a young boy who is has lost his father in Vietnam. An officer is visiting that has a gift. Apparently, there is a family watch that belonged to the boys great grandfather and had been passed down through the generations. His father had it when he was captured and gave it to the officer before the father died in the POW camp. The officer escaped and found the boy to give him the watch...

A boxer named Butch (Bruce Willis) wakes up from a dream. He is the boy all grown up. He is about to throw a fight for Marsellus Wallace (Ving Rhames), the same boss that everyone is afraid of. Butch does not throw the fight and accidently kills the other boxer. It turns out that he bet on himself and now he needs to get out of town before Marsellus Wallace catches him. He goes to a hotel where his rather dumb girlfriend is waiting for him. They go to bed and then are about to leave the next morning when it turns out that she forgot his watch. Butch freaks out and goes back to their old apartment to get the watch (note the very long take following Bruce Willis as he takes a back way to get to the apartment). Vincent is there waiting for him, but Vincent is in the bathroom and Butch is able to get a gun and kill Vincent as he is coming out of the bathroom. Things seem good so Butch drives off...

As Butch drives home, he sees Marsellus crossing the street in front of him so Butch hits the gas and runs down the boss but also hits an oncoming car. Both men are injured but Marsellus gains his senses and chases Butch into a shop where both are captured by a weird redneck with a shotgun. Butch and Marsellus are tied up in the basement of the shop and a man named Zed shows up. The shop owner has a gimp in a box (all leathered up and everything) and other fetish things downstairs. After a quick game to pick who goes first, they take Marcellus into another room to rape him. Butch manages to escape and is running away...but he decides can’t leave somebody to be assaulted like that. He grabs a weapon from the shop and kills the shop owner and frees Marsellus from Zed. Marsellus is not happy and says he will go “medieval” on Zed and allows Butch to leave town. Butch collects his girlfriend and leaves immediately...

Flash back in time (we know this because Vincent is alive) to right after Vincent and Jules shoot the guys with the case. Another guy in the other room jumps out and unloads six rounds at the two and misses every shot. The hitman kill that man, but Jules is shaken and decides to give up the business. They take a fourth gut with them in the car to go back to see Marsellus. On the drive over, Vincent accidently shoots the passenger while going over a pothole. The inside of the car is absolutely covered in blood and brains, so the two have to find a safe house. They go to the home of Jimmie (Quentin Tarantino) who will help them but says they have to get out in a couple of hours before his wife gets home. They call Marsellus, who sends over a cleaner named Wolf (Harvey Keitel). They are able to get everything cleaned up in time and leave with the car and the body. Jules and Vincent have to change out of their bloody clothes and decide to take a cab out to a diner for some food before seeing Wallace.

The two are at a familiar looking diner discussing whether their survival was a miracle and whether Jules should quit. Vincent goes off to the bathroom and, while he is gone, Pumpkin and Honey Bunny from the beginning declare it a robbery and it is evident that we have circled in time back around to the beginning. The couple hold up the diner, but, when they get to Jules, he takes Pumpkin hostage and devises a plan for everybody to leave. Jules allows the couple to leave alive with all the wallets, then the two hitmen follow quickly behind them before any police can show up.

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I put a spoiler warning at the top, but there is so much to this film that there is no way you could spoil everything. I find new things to enjoy about this movie each time that I watch it and the watch count has to be at least two dozen times at this point. This film is so rich with allusion and homage to movies of the past that you might never see everything. Tarantino is truly a lover of old films and he worked every reference he could into this film. This is truly like candy for a cinephile.

I have, however, had a love hate relationship with this movie: I love this movie and I hate it when people tell me it is too violent. There was a lot of negative response to the films toxic masculinity, romancing crime culture, incredible amount of swearing, drug use, extreme gun violence, and very adult themes. There is a very famous interview between Quentin Tarantino and Jan Wahl in which she accuses him of using excessive violence and he tells her it is because it is a lot of fun to watch. His stylistically gory violence stems from exploitation films of the past and there is an established audience that enjoys it. He makes his movies for himself and this group of people.

Kind of like the comedy of Eddie Murphy, Richard Pryor, and George Carlin, you have to wade through a sea of swearing to find the comedic banter. The things that Jules and Vincent say to each other are some of the funniest stuff I have ever heard, but you really have to pay attention. Their attempts to express their feelings while maintaining their hard exterior persona is ridiculous. This is probably why many people enjoy the scenes with Vincent and Mia: there is a lot more courtesy which reduces the tirade of cursing.

The violence is very very over the top, but it is no where near the level of gore that Tarantino has become known for over the years. I must admit that he likes his torture scenes and this film is no exception. I would like to note how clever the torture scene with Butch and Marsellus is because they are both tied up and facing camera so only the audience can see the mischief that is being prepared behind them.

The soundtrack for the film is well worth mentioning as it also pays homage to 50s, 60s, and 70s exploitations films. There is a lot of silence in the film with sudden bursts of fast paced music that help with transitions. Most famous is the intro music after diner prologue, a surf rock classic by Dick Dale and The Del Tones called Misirlou. It is pure speed guitar riff along the lines of Wipeout and transitions the scene perfectly. Take a listen for yourself:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIU0RMV_II8

Maybe the biggest thing about this film and Tarantino in general is the inspiration of the slick gangster dialogue. There had been a push for more melodramatic dialogue or the complete absence of much talking. Tarantino added in this slick, fast moving comedic dialogue that is said over extreme violence and adult situations. Marsellus Wallace talks about having some crack heads torture a man to death immediately after being raped in a basement. The hitmen talk about appropriate manners while cleaning out brains from the back of a car. Jules talks about the meaning of the bible during a robbery. Everything seems out of place in the real world but perfectly acceptable in Tarantino’s world. This is probably why I have no problem with the violence in the film.

So should this film be on the AFI top 100? Absolutely. It is an homage to film history while simultaneously introducing a sub genre that mixes current dialogue and exploitation touches to grindhouse action. It is fascinating and fun. Would I recommend this movie? If you are old enough. I can’t emphasize enough how fun I find this film, but I cannot deny that it is filled with adult situations like drug usage followed by driving, secret dungeon rape, and cold blooded murder with no consequences. If you can differentiate between Tarantino’s world and the real world, then this is great. If you can’t, then maybe try something else with slick dialogue like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

#miserlou #pulp fiction #samuel l jackson #Quentin Tarantino #john travolta #violence #action #90s movies #academy award winner #dialogue #cinematography #introvert #introverts

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gladdygirl18 · 4 years

Text

Taking the Time to Laugh

Summary: Young Peter had a rough week at school. When the weekend hits, he still pushes himself to study and stop whatever little crime he can catch. Let’s just say some certain Avengers remind him to have fun every once in a while.

Word Count: 2676

Monday, the start of another week of high school for Peter. Everything goes by smoothly; got an A+ on a physics project he got last week, stopped a bank robbery during his lunch period, and somehow was still able to make it back to school on time, nothing major.

Tuesday. Okay, it was a little harder today. Flash, of course, picked on Peter again just for fun, had 2 tests back-to-back; good thing he studied, and he stopped a jail break during his lunch period.

Wednesday. Peter was late to school because of a jewelry store robbery. Had to study for a test that was at the end of the week, and saved hundreds of lives from a train before it derailed. Seriously, Queens, give the kid a break.

Thursday. Does the city of Queens WANT Spider-Man to die? Seriously, Peter had to stop 3 bank robberies, 2 jewelry heists, and 2 thefts. On top of that, he had a history test, a math test, AND a Spanish test that day.

Friday. Finally, the week is over. Peter had a physics test that day, which he wasn’t too worried about. Got A’s on all his previous tests that week. During his lunch period, he saved a bus full of people that almost went for a swim into the Hudson.

Peter was as happy as a dog when it gets a bone. The week was finally over, which means he can spend the weekend studying and sleeping at Avengers HQ. Swinging across the buildings from his school, he soon arrived at the Avengers Facility. Walking inside, he was greeted with cold, dead silence. Letting out a sigh, Peter looked up at the ceiling.

“FRIDAY, where is everyone?” he asked.

“The Avengers are out on a mission in Switzerland. Do you want me to contact them?” she asked.

“No, no. It’s okay.”

Thanking the AI, Peter dragged his tired legs to his room. Reaching his room, Peter walked inside and threw himself on his bed.

“FRIDAY wake me up in 4 hours please. I want to study for a bit before tomorrow.” Peter said.

“Of course, Mr. Parker.” the AI said politely.

Letting out a tired sigh, the young Spider-Man was asleep in no time. After four long hours, FRIDAY woke the kid up to a very deafening alarm. Peter flipped onto the ceiling in shock like a scared cat. Remembering what he had asked the AI to do, the kid calmed down and jumped down from the ceiling.

“Hey FRIDAY, are the others back?” Peter asked, hoping that if they were back, they didn’t hear the alarm.

“No, they are still in Switzerland. Do you want me to contact them?” she asked.

“No thanks.”

Peter looked at the time and saw that it was already past 7. Shaking off the drowsiness, Peter took out his textbooks and notes, and started studying. He even asked FRIDAY to quiz him after an hour of studying in solitude. After what felt like hours, the kid finally stopped his studying and decided to go to bed.

“FRIDAY, do you know when the others are going to be back?” Peter asked.

“I do not know.” was all the AI said.

Nodding silently, the kid put on his sleepwear and was out like a light in no time. The new day dawned, and the Saturday sun spilled into Peter’s room through the closed blinds. Feeling the warm sun on his face, Peter cracked his eyes open and let out a small yawn. Sitting up, he stretched out his arms and let out another yawn.

“Come on, body... Move...” Peter said tiredly.

The kid pushed his legs off the side of the bed until he was lying in a very awkward position. Groaning in discomfort and frustration, he shot two web strands at his walls and used them to hoist himself up. Walking into his bathroom, he washed his face and brushed his teeth.

“Ugh, I’ve gotta stop with the late-night studying...” Peter reminded himself.

It was a small habit of Peter’s that he couldn’t control. Like his Aunt May always says, “Do what you NEED to do that way you can do what you WANT to do.”

“No pain, no gain, I suppose.” Peter said, to himself.

Slapping his cheeks to keep himself awake, he walked out of his room and was greeted by the sounds of voices.

“They’re back.” Peter said to himself.

Looking over the balcony from upstairs, he saw his fellow teammates relaxing in the living room. Smiling, the kid walked downstairs to join them. Hearing footsteps, a certain super soldier turned around to see the kid walking towards them.

“Afternoon kid.” Steve said.

The others that were there, Clint, Bucky, and Sam, turned to the kid and smiled.

Afternoon!? How long have I been sleeping? Peter thought.

Looking up at the clock, he saw that it was a quarter past 2.

“Hey Parker.” Clint said.

“Hey guys. How was Switzerland?” Peter asked while taking a seat next to the Hawkeye.

Sam leaned his head back and let out a frustrated groan.

“Cold. Very cold.” he said.

“We’re used to it.” said the two super soldiers.

“Why am I not surprised?” Clint asked.

The kid nodded with a fond smile. Peter leaned against the armrest of the sofa and let out a yawn.

“Hey kid. You okay?” Bucky asked.

All Peter did was nod.

“Rough morning?” Steve asked.

Peter shook his head no.

“More like a rough week.” Peter said.

“Mind telling us?” Sam asked.

Peter let out a sigh before facing the four older Avengers.

“Well, the start of the week was good, but then it all went to hell after that. Just this week alone, I had to stop 4 bank robberies, 2 thefts, 2 jewel heists, had to save hundreds of people from a train before it derailed, had to stop a jail break, and save some people on a bus before they took a swim in the Hudson. On top of that, high school is being a pain in the ass. I think I had at least 5 or 6 tests this week alone...” Peter said.

The kid looked at the Avengers and saw that they were all staring at him in shock.

“One question... How?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, Mr. Wilson. And to make it worse, I did some really late studying for a test this upcoming week... Ugh, I just need rest...” Peter said.

His vibrating phone soon took him out of his thoughts. Checking the NEWS, he saw that there was a jewel heist downtown. Letting out a sigh, he got up from the sofa and started heading for the door.

“Whoa, hey, where are you going?” Steve asked.

“Jewel heist downtown,” Peter said.

“Nu uh. No way. Let the police handle that. You stay here and rest.” Clint said.

“I have to go because for the past week, I’ve been doing the police’s job.”

Without another word, the kid ran out of the facility and swung into action. The four older Avengers looked at each other in disbelief.

“The kid’s gonna work himself dead if he keeps this up.” Sam said.

“Preach to that notion.” Clint said.

“What are we going to do? Even if we try to force him, his honest to God pure heart won’t let innocent people die on his watch.” Steve said.

“He’s an Avenger for a reason.” Bucky said with a smile.

The other three agreed with silent nods.

“Well, what else can we do?” Clint asked.

The four of them sat in silence trying to come up with a solution. After a while, Sam snapped his fingers when he came up with an idea.

“We may not be able to stop the kid from overworking himself, but we can remind him what fun he’s missing out on if he keeps working.” Sam said.

“Care to elaborate?” Steve asked.

Sam smiled and gladly explain his plan to his friends. The kid didn’t come back until 5. While he was swinging back to the facility, he saw a back robbery and stopped it. His spidey powers are supposed to help him recover after tiresome things, such as school and crimes. They were not helping. When Peter got back to HQ, he was met with silence.

“They probably went out to Switzerland again.” Peter said, chuckling to himself.

Walking into the living room, he plopped down on the sofa and breathed out a heavy sigh. Peter then let out a loud yelp when he felt something pull him down to the floor. His attempts to fight off his attackers were short-lived when his arms were held out to the side of him. He then felt weight being added on his waist. Looking up, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw that it was Clint and Bucky.

“Guys, what are you doing?” Peter asked, stuggling in the Winter Soldier’s grip.

“Nothing too farfetched, Spidey-Boy.” Clint replied.

“Okay, then why do you have me pinned down against my will?”

Bucky couldn’t help but let a giggle escape when the kid said that.

“We’re just reminding you to have fun.” said a familiar voice.

The kid looked up and saw Sam and Steve walk in out of nowhere.

“W-What does that mean?” Peter asked nervously.

“You have nothing to fret, kid. This won’t hurt at all. Trust me.” Steve said.

Peter struggled in the Winter Soldier’s grip, but his strength and metal arm made it impossible to get loose. Plus, Hawkeye’s weight making it difficult to buck him off.

“Riddle me this, kid. Have you ever heard the phrase; laughter is the best medicine?” Bucky asked, putting emphasis on his question.

Peter’s struggling almost became twice as violent when he heard that phrase. His Uncle Ben always said that phrase when Peter was young and sad. After the phrase being proclaimed, he was reduced to a puddle of giggling mess.

“I’ll take his struggling as a yes.” Clint said.

“Well, don’t wanna keep the kid waiting, do we?” Steve asked.

Nodding to one another, they all pounced at once, their fingers raking, scribbling, and wiggling all over the kid’s defenseless body. Peter literally screamed in laughter when they all pounced at him.

“Oh my Gohohohohohohohohod! Stahahahahahahahahahahap! Plehehehehehehehease!” Peter begged.

“Stop? We only just started!” Sam said cheerfully, kneading his fingers into the kid’s ribcage.

Peter gave a small buck when he felt the weird sensation on his ribs.

“Stohohohohohohop! Thahahahahahahahat feels sohohohohoho weird!” Peter cried.

“It’s called being ticklish, kid.” Bucky said bluntly.

Steve placed a hand on the kid and vibrated his hand all over the poor kid’s belly. Peter shook his head back and forth, trying not to think about the ticklish sensations all over his body. Easier said than done if you ask me.

“Yohohohohohohou’ve hahahahahahahad your fuhuhuhuhuhuhun! Now plehehehehehehehease stohohohohohop!” Peter cried.

“We’ll stop once you say that you’ll stop overworking yourself and take time off to have fun with us.” Steve said.

Peter couldn’t even respond. His childish laughter was getting in the way of every sentence he tried to form.

“You know Parker, everyone has a weak spot. Do you have one?” Clint asked.

“Nohohohohoho!” Peter answered.

“Liar.” Bucky said.

Holding Peter’s arms down with his metal arm, Bucky scribbled his fingers right below the kid’s armpits. Peter gave a small buck and his laughter reached a new volume.

“NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHRE!” Peter begged.

The four Avengers smiled almost menacingly down at the kid. Clint soon hiked hands upwards, inching closer and closer to the kid’s armpits.

“MR. BAHAHAHAHAHARTON PLEHEHEHEHEASE DOHOHOHOHON’T!” the kid begged.

“Sorry kid, I just gotta know.” the Hawkeye said.

Once his hands were in his target, Peter first fell limp with laughter before his struggling turned into violent thrashing.

“Looks like we struck gold.” Sam said.

“More like we struck diamond. Look at him.” Steve said.

What Captain America appeared sound. The kid’s laughter was louder than ever, and his thrashing was getting more and more violent. Not a problem for Bucky. He had Peter’s wrists locked down tight. The kid wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! I CAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T TAKE ANY MOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORE!” Peter cried out.

“Too ticklish, Spider-Boy?” Bucky asked, grinning down at the kid’s laughing face.

Peter cracked opened one of his eyes to look at the Winter Soldier. Bad decision. They say if you look at your tickler, the tickling becomes a hundred times worse. Apparently, no one told Peter Parker this information. Bucky was grinning like the devil himself. And with his long hair blocking the light in the room, it made him look ten times scarier. Honest to God, Peter’s laughter reached a new octave and volume.

“GUYS STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” Peter begged.

“You know what to do to make us stop. Say that you’ll stop overworking yourself and take time off to have fun with us.” Sam said.

“I CAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T! QUEENS IHHIHIHIHIHIHIS COHOHOHOHOHOUNTING ON MEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!”

“All I hear is excuses...” Clint groaned.

Taking a gamble, Steve started kneading Peter’s inner thigh and got a really good reaction out of it.

“DOHOHOHOHOHON’T DO THAHAHAHAHAHAHAT!” Peter cried.

“What? This?” Steve asked, kneading the kid’s thighs again.

The kid’s laughter fell on deaf ears. His face was beat red, tears streaming down his shut eyes, and nothing but cute, childish was being produced.

“COHOHOHOHOHOHOHOME OHOHOHOHOHOHON! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!” Peter begged.

“You have the power to stop all this, yet you refuse to do so. Why is that, Mr. Parker?” Bucky asked.

Peter couldn’t form a word; he was laughing so much.

“I think he needs more persuasion.” Bucky said.

Holding down Peter’s wrists with his knees, he slid his fingers into the kid’s sleeves and attacked his bare armpit. Peter honest to God screamed out a new stream of laughter.

“BUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUCKY NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! GET YOUR HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAND OUT! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” Peter begged.

“Oh, I get it.” Clint said, catching onto the Winter Soldier’s plan.

Nodding to the Falcon, the two of them snaked their hands under the kid’s shirt and teased the sensitive skin. Peter started to buck and thrash like a bull.

“YOHOHOHOHOHOHOU GUYS ARE SOHOHOHOHOHOHO MEHEHEHEHEAN! STAHAHAHAHAHAP!” Peter cried.

“Just say what we wanna hear, kid. This’ll all be over if you just say what we want you to say.” Steve said.

If they didn’t stop now, Peter was surely going to pass out from lack of oxygen.

“ALRIHIHIHIHHIHIHIHIGHT! I’LL STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP OVERWORKING MYSEHEHEHEHEHEHEHELF!” Peter cried.

“And?” the four Avengers inquired.

“I’LL STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHART TAHAHAHAHAHAHAKING TIME OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOFF TO HAVE FUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUN! JUST PLEASE STOP!”

Once he said that, the four men removed their hands from the kid’s body. Peter’s chest rose and fell slowly while he took in the much needed air. His heart felt like he was going to explode.

“You good kid?” Sam asked.

Peter panted but was still able to nod towards the Falcon.

“Sorry if we overdid it a bit.” Clint said.

“A bit!? I felt like I was gonna die!” Peter cried sitting straight up.

Hawkeye shrugged with a smile. Thinking back to his rough week, he let a wide, genuine smile form.

“I guess I have been working myself to the bone lately,” he said.

“After hearing how your week was, we couldn’t feel more sympathetic for you.” Steve said.

“You may be called Spider-Man, but sometimes you gotta remember that you’re still a kid.” Bucky said.

“Yeah, a kid with a lot of responsibilities.”

Bucky looked at the kid with an annoyed smug look.

“But I get your point. I’ll try and stop working myself to the bone and try and start having fun... with my family...” the kid said.

The four men smiled at being called family.

“So, Parker, what do you want to do now?” Steve asked.

Peter thought for a while before a smiled loomed on his face.

“Well, I guess I can get my revenge on you guys...” Peter said with a malicious smile.

For the rest of the afternoon, Peter was able to exact his revenge on his family. And in truth, the Avengers were his family, in more ways than one.

Hope you enjoyed! Stay Safe, Stay Blessed!

#tickle fic #ticklish #tickling #ticklish!peter #avengers fic #mcu

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theangriestpea · 4 years

Text

Crowned : The War Table

Summary: In order to get back at his brother, Jughead decides to mess up the one thing he's ordered everyone to not touch: His precious war table.<ao3> <kink masterlist> <crowned masterlist>

Pairing: Jughead Jones x OC ; minor Sweet Pea x OC

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex, Vaginal sex, Slight choking

A/N: This was request ages ago by @the-gargoyle-queen and @southside-vixen. Finally getting around to it after at least six months. This is for the mirror square on my @riverdalebingo card. I probably won't complete the card by the deadline. I have eleven more prompts and I just don't see myself being able to write that many oneshots by the end of June. Plus I go back to work the week after next which will bring everything to a screeching halt. I will try to update at least twice a month, but that may just not be possible with everything going on.

“Jug, I don’t understand why you had to pull me away from my meeting. It’s important that I get the funding for the food banks sorted out before-” Queen Lily stopped as her husband halted in front of the dreaded war room. Inside was the infamous war table that Sweet Pea had set up with an elaborate map and an army of mini figurines to sort out strategy and combat. Everything was placed in a certain way and was absolutely not to be touched by anyone but him.

The king smirked at his wife, deviousness glinting in his blue eyes. “I owe Sweet Pea a little...pay back.” He said wistfully. “And I finally found a great way to do it.”

She gave him a confused look, “And that involves me how? Really, Juggie, you pulled me away for some petty-”

“We’re fucking on the war table.” He said, cutting her off with a shit-eating grin.

Lily was silent for a moment. While she did enjoy sex with him in inopportune places, she wasn’t totally sold on ditching important work to do it. “But the food banks-”

“I signed off on emergency funding this morning, they’ll be fine for today.” Jughead said, reassuring her. “The kingdom has been fed, so stop worrying. Did you forget about the ceiling?”

“The mirror…” Her voice trailed off. Mirror sex was very much their thing and the war room had a beautifully large mirror on the ceiling. Sweet Pea insisted that it allowed him to see every angle of the battlefield and that it was a totally necessary expenditure. He didn’t have to really convince Jughead of it, as his own personal usage of mirrors immediately came to mind and he agreed to the renovation immediately.

Jughead was grinning as he unlocked the door (Sweet Pea had installed a lock after his wife kept screwing with things just to piss him off) and opened it. He led Lily inside and cut on the lights. “That’s right, the mirror.” Jughead said smugly, closing the door behind her.

Lily was looking at her reflection in the mirror, a look of wonder of her face. “This is such a great idea...Why have we not done this before?”

“Because he hadn’t pissed me off enough before to ruin his ‘work’.” Jughead said, shrugging. “So what do you say?” He asked, putting his hands on her hips and bringing her back against his chest. “Want to?”

She couldn’t help the excited giggle that left her. “Yes! God, yes!” He laughed in response, walking her over to the table in question.

“Then take off your clothes, your highness.” He whispered huskily into her ear before nipping at it playfully. Lily turned around in his arms and slowly took off her dress, unzipping it from the side and letting it fall off her shoulders and hips. It pooled to the floor and she let it sit there, making quick work of her bra and underwear.

Jughead licked his lips, a hungry look on his face as he hoisted her onto the table. Immediately Lily was knocking over painted pewter figures, shoving them all out of the way in order to make room for her body. The thought of how angry this was going to make her brother-in-law sent a thrill down her spine. She could already hear him screaming, pinning the blame on his wife somehow.

“Does my sister know about this?” She asked as Jughead began to kiss her thighs. He pushed her chest to urge her to lay back. She moved more figures out of the way and relaxed against the resin table, looking up at her reflection with a worried look.

“She does.” Jughead said between pecks of his lips, “And she’s well prepared.” He added as he spread her legs apart. Lily took in a sharp intake of air as his lips pressed against her clit in a brief but hard kiss.

His arms wrapped around her thighs, anchoring her in place as he licked a stripe up her slit. Her back arched, head falling back as she let out a soft moan. Jughead repeated the action before teasing the entrance of her cunt with his tongue, swirling it around quickly, flicking in and out before his mouth trailed north to her clit.

He latched on, sucking in juncture with his probing tongue. Lily began to quake on the table, shaking with the feeling of ecstasy that was flooding through her. His grip on her thighs tightened to keep her from kicking him out of the way like she enjoyed doing whenever she got overwhelmed.

Lily whined at him, the need to have something inside of her wet pussy was almost unbearable. A finger, a tongue, anything at this point. The hollow feeling combined with the sensation of him working her clit over was maddening. Despite her impending orgasm, she still felt incredibly desperate for more.

Jughead knew what she wanted and was purposefully denying it. He pulled away for a moment, “Watch yourself, my queen.” He ordered before going back. Lily looked up, locking eyes with her reflection as she watched herself jerk, trying to break free from him even though she knew she was not strong enough to.

She watched her face contort with every moan, her body twist for freedom as she climbed higher and higher. The tension in her abdomen broke as she came, watching through blurred vision as she whimpered and laid flat back on the table. Every touch of his tongue caused her to flinch, his cleaning licks keeping her spent form in overdrive.

Jughead stood, unbuckling his pants before pushing them off his hips along with his boxer briefs. “Don’t take your eyes off yourself.” He ordered. “I want you to watch me fuck you.”

Lily swallowed as she kept her gaze upward. Jughead moved her so that her hips were slightly hanging off the table. It had been a while since he had taken such a firm command over her. While they both switched roles, he had seemed to be needing to sub more often than not. She figured it had to do with work and having to rule over everyone. It was nice to have him back in the saddle again.

Her kegels clenched with anticipation. The need to be full of nothing but him causing more wetness to build within her aching pussy. “Jug,” She whimpered helplessly as he took his sweet time. She dared to look at him however his eyes narrowed into the glare. Lily quickly looked back up at her reflection once more. “I need it, please!’ She said desperately.

Jughead teased her with the head of his penis, barely pressing it inside of her slick hole. He enjoyed watching her squirm and pant, the need for him showing on every inch of her body. A proud smirk overcame him, knowing that he was the only one that could reduce her to such a state.

Then with one broad motion of his hips, he pushed all the way inside of her so fast that she cried out his name in surprise. He didn’t stop once inside, choosing to pull out and start over again. After every thrust forward he nearly pulled all the way out before repeating, rocking the table as she mewled for him on repeat.

He pressed a thumb to her clit, running circles around it as she practically sobbed from the stimulus. She watched him rail into her, her breasts bouncing in rhythm to his thrusts. The way her lips moved with every moan. The dazed look on her face as she demanded more.

Who was he to disregard his queen? Jughead moved his hips and thumb faster, free hand moving to grab the base of her throat. He fucked without care for who could hear them outside, drunk on the sight of her getting off to her own reflection. He dared to look up, watching them both at an entirely new angle. Seeing her from above was even more intoxicating, and what started as a brief glance turned into an enraptured stare.

“Please,” She grappled with his wrist, holding onto it as she had nothing else to grab hold of. “Jug, please-!” He increased the speed of his thumb, tightening the circles around her clit as he put more force into his thrusts. Moments later Lily was wailing with the force of her second climax, screaming for him as her vision blurred with bright blinding shapes and radio static.

Jughead grunting, grabbing both sides of her hips to ride her out before releasing himself deep within her. He looked down at her, leaning over to brush some of the stray tears that had escaped her eyes. He allowed himself to soften inside of her, enjoying her warmth and the closeness as he pulled her into a sitting position in order to hold her trembling form to his.

“We better go.” He murmured to her and she let out a whine of protest. “Before someone tells the prince.” He added teasingly as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ll help you get dressed.”

After dressing her and himself, Jughead picked her up as one would a bride and carried her into their grand bedroom. “I think you earned yourself a nap, your highness.” He said teasingly as she grumbled back an incoherent response, still dazed from the intense set of orgasms. He laid her onto the bed and kissed her goodbye before returning to his royal duties.

An hour later, Sweet Pea walked into the war room, noticing that the door was left unlocked. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he turned on the lights and headed towards the table. His fury bloomed hot as he saw the pieces of his army strewn about carelessly. “Shanna!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, knowing that his wife must have been the culprit. No one else ever messed with his things.

The former princess poked her head through the door, a wicked grin on her face. “Poor Pea, someone played with his toys when he wasn’t watching.”

He turned and began to storm towards her, however she darted off in a fit of giggles as they started a new came of cat and mouse.

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mikeyhatesit113 · 4 years

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forever and never: Chapter 10

My car pulls up to the daycare entrance and Janie comes outside, the overnight bag slung loosely from her shoulder. Her face is blank, but her demeanor is defeated. She walks to my car and she gets in, shutting the door behind her. It’s just us two and a pregnant silence now.

A million questions swim through my mind.

Not to be outdone, she has a million excuses prepared.

“He drove you to work this morning?” I start by asking.

“Yeah,” she says quietly.

After the barrage of text messages from her and Bill, I am still unclear about what the truth is.

He said they met multiple times.

She said once.

He said they kissed several times.

She claimed once.

But whether it was a thousand times, or just once, I had a single question. This question did just pertain to the past 24 hour’s events, but it covered all the happenings over the past two years.

The hotel stays without receipts or bank records. The men who were just friends. The phone calls and text messages dripping with secrecy. The names under other names.

The nights where I watched her walk away.

“At any point throughout any of this, did you ever consider what you were doing to your sons’ home?” I asked.

My voice was not loud. My tone was not vicious.

It was a simple question that any mother should have been asking themselves. An anguished look comes across her face and she leans forward, putting her face in her hands.

Her muffled sobs fill the car and the atmosphere is devastating for both of us.

She had been caught, and another secret love story had been reduced to smoldering ash.

And for the third time in 2 years, I once again had been deceived.

Only this time, I had more answers than questions. I knew she was actually guilty.

Her lips had actually touched another man’s.

Proof beyond a reasonable doubt.

With this verdict, what would the jury decide?

They were lenient.

My heart wrenched at the thought of leaving her and the boys. After all we had been through, and all I believed we had overcome, I just couldn’t bring myself to throw in the towels.

I had watched those two little boys grow into walking, talking mini-adults.

James was no longer a curious Pre-K little boy. He was now 10, and he was funny. He had friends, and we had a great relationship. He loved Michael Myers just like I did, and he mimicked my wacky antics around the house. He was as close as a son could be.

Brock was no longer a tot in diapers. He was an animated kid who had started school now, and he loved to wrestle in the living room with his brother and I.

After 4 and a half years of being responsible for them, I was supposed to walk away without a second thought?

What if we could overcome this? One more thing to look back on as an old couple, decades later on that typical front porch swing moment. Saying with a smile as we are looking into eachother’s eyes, “We made it.”

“We got through it.”

“We proved our love was stronger than anything.”

“For better or for worse.”

Despite everything I knew, and how dirty I felt, I had decided to stay. I couldn’t pronounce it dead yet, despite what the vitals were telling me.

And as we moved on just days after the Bill scandal broke, I remained disturbed by a single, abstract thought.

I had trusted Bill, and he was a great friend.

He was my groomsman who saw us at our worst and our best.

But the fact that I was blindsided by his betrayal wasn’t because of those things, necessarily.

It was due to something else.

Like, the fact that, Bill wasn’t the one I had my eye on.

I was eyeing another person entirely, and we had already crossed paths.

Let me introduce you to, Steppenwolf.

“Mr. Steppenwolf is so funny,” Janie laughed in the kitchen as she was preparing dinner one day. We were telling eachother about our respective days, and she was telling me about how Mr. Steppenwolf, a fellow daycare teacher, had outsmarted an angry parent that day.

In fact, Mr. Steppenwolf was the director of the program at Janie’s center.

Sound familiar?

“And he has the craziest hats,” she giggled.

“Oh,” I responded. A balding man with gray hair in his 30’s with a wacky hat collection seemed interesting enough, but it quickly left my mind.

He was married with kids, anyway.

But then, Mr. Steppenwolf popped up on my radar again just days later.

I was scrolling through Instagram, and I noticed that Steppenwolf had been “liking” and commenting on almost every one of Janie’s pictures.

Despite the arena I was in, I wasn’t a terribly jealous guy. But for curiosity’s sake, I went to Steppenwolf’s profile and discovered that Janie was doing the exact same thing to his photos.

For instance, his picture of a stink bug had earned a “like” from Janie, and a bonus comment that said, “OMG Mr. Steppewolf, what a creepy bug!”

In addition, I noticed that their social networking relationship was barely a month old, and the commenting/liking had picked up in frequency.

But nevertheless, I wasn’t a jealous guy. However, I did casually tease Janie about the interactions with Mr. Steppenwolf on Instagram. She played it off and changed the subject.

Coincidentally, Mr. Steppenwolf’s profile went PRIVATE a day later.

But perhaps, Steppenwolf was deemed a true threat until one beautiful Summer day.

It was a sunny, July day, and I was going to a Fantasy Football draft at a friend’s house.

Janie, usually opposing my attendance to such events, was surprisingly supportive and cool with my plans to go. In fact, she whipped me up a batch of Buffalo Chicken Dip to take along as a party contribution.

“And I know when you guys get together, you like to stay out late. Just so you know, I won’t be mad if it goes to 2am or something. You deserve to have a good time with your friends,” she spoke.

“Are you sure you’re ok with me going?” I asked as I put tin foil over the top of the chicken dip pan.

“Yeah,” she insisted brightly. “I’ll just hang out around here, or maybe go see my parents at the campground,” she said.

“Cool,” I said, grabbing my keys. I was running a bit behind on time, and I had to get on the road. I had planned to leave 10 minutes earlier, and now I was probably going to be late.

Just then, Janie’s phone on the counter lit up.

Out of habit, I looked at the screen and saw a text.

From Steppenwolf.

“Hey bud, wasn’t sure if we were still on the for the movie? If not, just let me know, and I’ll kick back and hang around the house.”

I read the message, my jaw clenching and my mind beginning to race.

Movie? With Steppenwolf??

What the fuck?

Janie looked at the screen, and immediately after reading the message, she got frantically defensive.

“He’s texting the wrong Janie!” she insisted, her eyes quickly welling with tears. “He must have meant the other Janie in the other program,” she explained.

She picked up her phone and dialed Steppenwolf immediately. He answered, and once again, what she said next would determine everything.

“Hey Mr. Steppenwolf,” she greeted him. “I have a very upset husband standing next to me, and he thinks your message was actually meant for me,” she fake chuckled.

I’m not certain what he said, but Janie’s reaction did its best to make me believe that this was indeed just a big misunderstanding.

“That’s what I said!” she said on the phone, laughing.

She offered me the phone. “Did you want to talk to him?” she asked.

“No,” I said, scowling.

I wasn’t sure what the fuck was going on, but it didn’t look good. As I waited for her to end the call, I knew that I no longer wanted to go to the Fantasy Football draft.

I wanted to dump the buffalo chicken dip in the trash.

How could I go have a good time with these new suspicions?

In terms of timeline, the Bill scandal had not yet happened. That wouldn’t be happening for another two weeks yet.

So in truth, these were my first suspicions since a year earlier when she ran off into the night with Shawn.

But I thought we had moved past that? I thought I’d never feel that way again?

Janie hung up the phone and insisted that his message was meant from someone else. I did my best to believe her, but I was uneasy.

What if it wasn’t a mistake?

I reluctantly left the house and went to the Fantasy Football party, sitting amongst my friends and doing my best to act normal.

Janie, almost as if she knew that I was on alert, texted me frequently.

A few hours later, I left the Fantasy Football party and went to the campground her parents were at. Janie had went to visit them, and she invited me to swing by.

We sat around the fire, talking casually. Janie and I did our best to ignore the serpent between us that had just been resurrected, threatening to strike.

As the days that followed went on, I noticed other little changes in Janie.

She suddenly took a big interest into the sporty attire that the younger girls at her center wore. She suddenly bought several pairs of running shorts, and her behavior at home transformed into more of their demeanor as well.

She’d post pictures online of herself posing flirtatiously with them. Of course, these photos had a thumbs up from Mr. Steppenwolf, who was often lingering in the background and making goofy faces.

Then, she started staying out later at night. She’d cite after-work meetings at a nearby sports bar, but some nights, she wouldn’t come home till after midnight. I’d stay up and wait for her, knowing I’d have to be awake for work in less than 5 hours, but I couldn’t sleep.

I had to know she was safe, and I had to torture myself with secret suspicions.

I’d watch the Lancer pull into the driveway as relief washed over me. I’d run upstairs and crawl into bed quickly so that she wouldn’t know I had stayed up to wait. She’d come upstairs and get ready for bed quickly, and as she’d get under the covers, I’d smell the beer on her breath.

She’d fall out pretty quickly, but I often laid there in the dark as I stared at the ceiling, wondering where her night had taken her.

The weird occurrences continued one day when I saw a mixed CD in her car. It was titled “Daddy Mix”, and it contained nothing but songs with the word “Daddy” in their titles.

“Daddy Sang Bass”, by Johnny Cash.

“Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home)”, by Usher.

“Daddy’s Eyes”, by The Killers.

“What’s this?” I asked, holding up the CD.

“Oh, that,” she laughed. “So, I call Mr. Steppenwolf ‘daddy’ at work, and everyone thinks that it’s funny,” she explained. “So they all got together and put this CD together for me, and slid it in my mailbox,” she said.

The explanation seemed off to me. I’ve found many things my co-workers have done to be hilarious, but creating a mixed CD for them as a result honestly never crossed my mind.

It was such a small occurrence that I quickly forgot about it.

Either that, or I was actively overlooking things as to not find a reason to worry about them.

All I wanted was peace as a husband. I never believed that I had accidentally signed up to be a 24/7 private investigator.

Then one night, I came face to face with Steppenwolf.

It was a night where another after-work meeting was taking place, and she invited me. I sat there amongst her co-workers, and I found myself having a pleasant time as I met people and their spouses for the first time.

Then, Steppenwolf showed up.

I noticed quickly how he presented himself. Though he was a smaller man, he carried himself with an upmost self-importance.

I watched him get out of his purple sports car, and as he walked up, I saw him tug at the bottom of the tight lime-green polo he had decided to wear.

He walked into the outdoor patio area we were all seated at, and his co-workers welcomed him as he took a seat at the far end of the two tables we had pushed together to accommodate our party size.

Steppenwolf did not look at me.

Janie was seated beside me, deep in conversation with a fellow co-worker. I decided to drink some beers, and soon I found myself lost in casual conversations of my own with other people.

It was then I noticed, Steppenwolf and Janie were gone. I looked around quickly, but I could not spot them. I got up from the table and walked inside the crowded bar. After some quick recon, I located my targets.

They were deep in a hushed conversation back by the bathrooms, which were hidden from plain view. I walked up to them and as I stood beside Janie, I crossed my arms and faced Steppenwolf.

Their conversation abruptly stopped, and Steppenwolf shot me a sideways glance as he leaned on the wall. He walked away without another word, and I asked Janie about what I had seemingly interrupted.

“He’s just having an issue with another co-worker, and he was talking to me about it,” she said.

Soon after that night, the Bill events happened.

It was August now, and as Summer was winding down, Janie and I found ourselves in a shattered state.

But were we beyond repair?

The night before Labor Day Sunday, Janie and I decided to go to Hersheypark. It had always been a nice spot for us and the boys, but on this night, it was just us two.

Night had fallen, and the park was clearing out. There weren’t too many people left, and as we walked side by side, I noticed the continued silence between us.

“You ok?” I asked.

“Yeah, I just want to know that you’re ok,” she replied.

“I am if you are.”

The sunset that night, and the emptiness around us, was too eerie for me to ignore. It was symbolic of our love story.

----

The next day, we had a Labor Day cookout planned at our home. Close to the start time, Janie and I walked over to her mom’s house to get some bug spray.

My sister had requested some, and Janie found this as a reason to angrily march off across the street to accomodate my family.

“What is your problem?” I asked her as I followed behind her.

“Nothing, Michael, nothing,” she said.

We both returned to our house and our guests arrived. The cookout got started, and things started off normally enough.

Janie guzzled down alcoholic beverages, and she kept asking her step-dad to admit that she was his princess.

I played corn hole with some of the other guests, but predictably, things took a turn for the worst as night fell.

My father had taken my nephews to a local carnival that night, and he dropped them off at our house because my sister was attending our cookout. However, my father wanted to make a quick job of dropping them off, as his dog had been at home for hours without a bathroom break.

I stood out front with my sister as we casually chatted with our father, and then he got back in his car and drove off.

Janie, however, took great offense to this gesture. He had not come back to the party in the back yard to say hello, and she decided that she had an issue with this.

I picked up on this when I returned to the back yard, and Janie stood amongst the party guests glaring at me.

When I watched her walk in the house, I seized my opportunity to follow her inside and find out what was wrong.

“Hey,” I said as I slid the door closed behind me. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing is ever good enough, is it?” she asked.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Your dad, after all these years, still hates me,” she said. “What the fuck are we even doing?” she asked savagely.

Kelly came inside at that moment, and she saw our confrontation.

“Guys, don’t fight,” she said.

“I’m not fighting!” I said, my temper soaring. “She’s picking another fight with me!”

At those words, Janie scoffed and ran upstairs. When she came back down, she had another overnight bag slung from her shoulder.

The second one I had seen in a month. The third one I had seen in a year.

“And where are you going?” I asked.

“Janie, don’t leave,” Kelly begged.

Janie only wanted to talk to Kelly, but I barreled on, demanding to know where Janie was leaving to go this time.

Janie asked where the Lancer keys were, but I wasn’t about to let that happen.

“You aren’t taking the Lancer,” I said. “You’ve been drinking, and you’re not totaling my car.”

Janie didn’t scream back, though.

As our guests continued enjoying themselves in our back yard, Janie quietly left out the front door. I watched her from the door step as she disappeared into the night, one more time.

There was nothing for it. She was looking for a reason all along.

And I was tired of stopping her.

I was tired of trying.

But seeing her walk away never got easier.

I returned to the back yard, and though some people were aware what had happened, others didn't mind. Janie’s step-dad chatted merrily with our landlord, taking swigs of beer. I wasn’t about to spoil their time.

I walked up to my grandmother and uncle, and I quietly let them know what had happened. I walked them to their car, feeling bad at the failure I had become.

“Well,” my grandmother said. “You’ll have this. And remember what I said, you have a home with me.”

I thanked her and my uncle for coming, and after they drove away, I never felt more alone. Most of the guests had departed, but a few stayed. I walked around my empty home, wondering what to do. I decided to go to bed.

Of course, i didn't sleep at all.

Our Boston Terrier curled up next to me in bed as I listened to Linkin Park’s “Burn It Down” on my iPod.

The cycle repeated As explosions broke in the sky All that I needed Was the one thing I couldn’t find...

I got up several times that night, looking out the window and hoping to see her return. Instead, I remember seeing our landlord and a few of Janie’s family members sitting around our bonfire, still burning brightly.

After a brief stints of sleep and constant exhaustion, morning came.

The sky was full of clouds, and the air was humid and muggy. I walked around our house, seeing the mess in the back yard and the piles of dishes on the kitchen counter.

I was all alone.

I started cleaning up, trying to take my mind off of the situation at hand.

Had Bill re-entered the arena? Or was she with someone else?

I told myself I wouldn’t call, but we were past that point. Enough was enough. I picked up my phone and dialed her number, and it went right to voicemail. I said the only thing I could say;

“I’m not calling to find out where you are or who you’re with. I’m only asking you, out of respect for our time together and the home of those two little boys, to tell me what’s going on?”

I hung up and continued cleaning up the mess.

After a half hour, I called again.

“You don’t understand how serious this is, I need you to tell me what’s going on. Nothing else. Just tell me where things stand,” I spoke.

I hung up my phone.

Then, she called back.

I walked out into the back yard as I answered her call.

“Hey,” I said.

“I’m done,” she said softly. “We fight all the time. Things haven’t been right. We’re toxic,” she spoke. “I’m done.”

“Are you with Steppenwolf?” I asked.

“...yeah, but I slept on his couch,” she said.

Our conversation didn’t last long. What was there left to say?

I packed a few things in a hurry.

I was going home.

As I loaded some things into my car, I saw Janie’s mom sitting on her back porch. I shut my car door after putting my things inside the car and walked across the street.

“Hey,” I said.

“I’m sorry, Ekim,” her mom said. “I don’t know why she’s doing this. I didn’t raise her that way,” Janie’s mom spoke. “I can’t go against her, she’s all I have. She’s my baby,” her mom pleaded.

“I know. She’s with Steppenwolf,” I mumbled.

“Yeah, I heard. I don’t know why she’s doing this.”

---

Walking through my grandmother’s front door was less than ceremonious, but there are places throughout you’re life where you feel safe.

This was one of them.

My uncle had since moved in with her since I had moved out 5 years earlier, and he had my old room. But I didn’t care. I was eager to have any place to call home, and in turn, I moved whatever I had with me into a smaller upstairs bedroom.

It was my room when I was 14 years old before I moved to a bigger room. Since I had moved out of it, it had become a storage room for miscellaneous items and holiday decorations.

The bed mattress was gone, but the box spring was still there. I draped a few blankets on the top until I figured something else out in terms of a bed.

It would have to do for now, like everything else.

That day, I didn’t plan on staying idle and letting my imagination tear me to pieces.

There would be no sleep, no rest, and no peace.

So I might as well stay busy.

I decided to accompany some friends to a back yard cookout, and I needed to take several breaks away from the party to vent to my buddy’s girlfriend.

I was inconsolable. I couldn’t think of anything else.

Luckily, she was understanding and listened patiently while I spilled my guts several times that day.

My life was in pieces, and my marriage was over.

That night, they invited me back to their place to hang out.

I sat beside my one friend on their love seat as they watched the newest episode of the show, Breaking Bad.

I sat next to him and odd as it sounds, just not being alone made my eyes heavy.

36 hours of no sleep was catching up to me.

My head slumped over as I fell asleep, but I couldn’t fall into too deep of a sleep state.

Night was falling outside, and my vicious imagination was going to punish me for not giving it a chance to torture me all day.

I sat there, my head slumped on my buddy’s shoulder as I heard a song coming from the TV. It’s a song called “Crystal Blue Persuasion”, and it was playing on the episode of Breaking Bad. My imagination played a perverse slideshow for me as the melody filled my ears.

I missed her. I just wanted to be next to her.

And he had her.

The music from the TV played as the images in my head haunted me, my stomach turning...

“Look over yonder, what do you see?”

They start kissing in Steppenwolf’s living room, knowing they have the entire night together...

“The sun is a-risen, most definitely.”

They wander through Steppenwolf’s house toward his bedroom...

“A new day is coming, people are changing,”

They reach his bedroom and lay on his bed...

“Ain’t it beautiful? Crystal blue persuasion.”

The light goes out.

But for me, it was far from over.

Broken, but not beyond repair.

We weren’t finished yet.

“My secrets are buried now From my heart and my bones catch a fever When it cuts you up this deep It's hard to find a way to breathe

Your eyes are swallowing me Mirrors start to whisper Shadows start to see My skin's smothering me Help me find a way to breathe.”

Bring Me the Horizon “Sleepwalking”

NOTE: Though this is my side of the story, including my own personal recollections and opinions, the reader should not consider this note anything other than a work of literature. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

#dating #relationships #depression #breakups #relationship advice #divorce #marriage #mental health #suicide #begin again #new beginnings #taylor swift #never #forever #love #hate #papa roach

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aethalen · 4 years

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Riverstones

@heoneyology; some sassy Sunwoo lovin’ that’s rusty as hell but I hope you yell about it anyway.

2,877

Sunwoo was probably one of the most complex pieces that attempted to fit into your puzzle in the wrong slot, but despite that, he seemed to try—hard. How you came to meet, you don’t really remember, because since meeting him, your primary focus was to get under his skin, the same way he was trying to get under yours. The things you hated about him the most—his stubbornness, his competitiveness, and sometimes his bad attitude—only pushed you to be more stubborn, more competitive, and have an even worse attitude with him.

At first, your friends—the mutual ones by which you meet Sunwoo in the first place—thought it was kind of amusing. In the beginning, they found it endearing; two people butting heads in constant competition, but it got to the point where sometimes they couldn’t even stand to go out with the two of you at the same time.

Which was unfortunate, because his friend group was your friend group and as competitive as the two of you could be sometimes, it came down to splitting some of the boy’s time for separate occasions. The last time they would take the two of you out, it turned into a competition to see who could sprint down the side of the river the fastest, and ended with him bumping into you (perhaps on accident, but you didn’t question it at the time) and you shoving him clean off the bank and into the river, yelling about him being a cheater and trying to trip you up just to win a short dash.

Changmin took it upon himself to take you out to coffee to see if you could work things out.

“He’s infuriating,” you stated plainly when he asked you what your beef with Sunwoo was. “Everything with him is a competition, he’s always better than everyone at everything and—”

“And you feel it’s necessary to remind him that he can’t just do whatever he wants—”

“And have whatever attitude he wants! He’s stuck up and snooty!”

“I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you this, but have you ever considered he’s just playing around?” Changmin asked. He didn’t want to rub you the wrong way with that question, but when you were just about as stubborn as Sunwoo was… you crossed your arms over your chest, and that about ended your coffee outing.

It was never just playing around when everything the other said was an eyebrow-twitching, corner-of-the-mouth-turning, edge-of-a-spat retort. Sunwoo always had something to say after you; it never mattered what it was about, he always refused to let you be the last voice heard. Needless to say, it got on your nerves, and fast, to the point where whenever he’d chime in while you were a part of the conversation, you gave him a taste of his own medicine. Everything always quickly escaladed into a near screaming match and you, trying to be the bigger person, usually stormed off when one of the boys would gently touch your arm.

You walked away, but not by your own wishes; teeth-gritting, nose-snarling, fire in your eyes as you stared him down until you finally turned away, and if you ever saw the cocky upturn of his lips in a victorious smile, it may be the last time anyone saw Sunwoo.

To be honest, you would have been fine being completely removed from Sunwoo and still able to keep your friends—his friends. The only upshot that came with that was the boys constant badgering about your beef with Sunwoo, to which you frequently fired back with the same idea, “Whatever his beef is with me.”

A couple of boys had honestly never considered it; that fiery boy was always that way, and they’d never considered him to be any different; but that one eye-opening comment turned them upside-down, and consequently so on Sunwoo. When he was barraged with questions about what his problem was with you and why he always had to have the last word and why everything was a competition, he simply answered the same way you always did: it was always the other’s fault.

You didn’t need thinking—you were only ever that way with him because he was that way with you first. Others decided the tone of your relationship with them; but he was a different case. The questions lent themselves to long nights on the river bank, throwing any size stone across the water no matter the weather for Sunwoo. All the intense thinking had him hyperaware of every crease and crevice, every imperfection on the smooth faces of the river stones he skipped across the placid water. No matter how many rocks he skipped, no matter how many he just chucked out there in frustration, no matter how many times he ran a hand through his hair—he refused to look the problem straight in the face.

“You’ve been out here for hours,” Changmin commented, taking a seat in the plush grass of the bank next to his younger friend.

“I don’t get it. I go through every scenario over and over. Obviously, I don’t know what I’m doing because it had to be pointed out to me; what I don’t get is why,” Sunwoo replied with a frustrated sigh on the tail end, chucking another rock deep into the river’s current.

“I think you’re approaching it from the wrong angle,” Changmin suggested, picking up a smooth rock from his side, rubbing his thumb across it to get the proper hold before flicking it across the water, skipping it all the way to the other bank. “You always act without thinking, first. What is the purpose behind the things you say, the challenges you make?”

“That’s the part I can’t figure out,” Sunwoo answered dejectedly.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Changmin’s lips.

“You’re trying to get attention, but you’ve never been very gentle about it,” Changmin replied, casting another stone across the water. His stones always skipped further, had the right amount of finesse. “Maybe if you’re a little softer, you’ll get a better result.”

When it was suggested to you that maybe you should try hanging out with the group again with Sunwoo there, you avidly rejected the idea; slander on his attitude flew out of your mouth faster than you could breathe because why should you give him another chance when he already ruined the fifty before that? It took some coaxing, but his change in attitude almost gave you whiplash.

At every corner, you were ready to cut him off when he had some retort after everything you said; you were always on your toes, waiting for him to issue another challenge. This mild-mannered boy was foreign to you, and if anything, it only made you more suspicious of him. He never sat next to you or even engaged with you too directly. It was like his abrasiveness had been stripped away, and this was the quiet boy you were left with.

He seemed to be able to sense your hesitation about him, now that he was focused on checking himself at every breath, quickly realizing that it was just him approaching the situation from a bad angle. He felt your eyes on him just as much, but differently now. They were no longer daggers looking to defend from any semblance of a fight; instead, they were almost curious, and when he met eyes with you, they didn’t hold the same fire he was notorious for. They were soft, glittering like the moonlight against the river, the gentlest gaze he’d ever graced you with since meeting him.

Even then, he didn’t say anything as he sat catty-corner at the game table set up in your apartment. In fact, you could have sworn he almost smiled before his gaze cast down at the table and back to the cards in his hand.

Progressively, you opened up and let your guard down. When you had a game night, or went out for a movie, or anything that involved the two of you, you laughed freely, conversed freely, observed freely… often catching Sunwoo’s gaze with yours before he would quickly look away. You began overthinking it—maybe he was chastised for the way he acted around you and now was reduced to this mute replacement who hardly ever engaged with you anymore.

He quickly proved you entirely wrong that same night that you were leaving the cinema when the weather got unpredictable and a little chilly. While the boys, properly bundled or unaffected by the cold, stood around to chat, you were finding yourself staving off goosebumps that crawled underneath your skin with every brush of the wind. Sunwoo, quiet and observant as he’d newly become, was the first and maybe the only to notice.

Undetected, he shifted out of the circle and moved a few boys a couple of steps to stand between you and Changmin, your closest safety net int the group, and before you could even feel the new presence make itself known, he was already draping a warm piece of clothing over your shoulders which felt familiarly like a leather jacket. You looked over, not finding Changmin where he was just a moment ago, and instead was captured in the gaze of those same shimmering eyes that now held a different type of look for you. One second away from protesting, he was the first to speak.

“I wasn’t going to stand there and watch you shiver for however long we’re all going to pointlessly chat,” he whispered to you, casting off his sentence with a gentle laugh—one you’d never heard from him before. Sunwoo was the farthest from gentle; at least, you’d always known him so. Your jawed queued something to say multiple times, but instead you remained quiet while your fingers reached for the opening to pull it tighter across you, blocking a little more wind out.

At long last, your hesitation for the other shoe to drop vanished. Sunwoo was far more manageable and frankly, garnered your attention far more often than not. You had brought it up like word-vomit on your weekly coffee outing with Changmin, and after that, things changed even more.

“So, what’s with Sunwoo? Did you all yell at him or something?”

Changmin smiled against the vented lid of his coffee cup with knowing eyes and continued with his sip before setting it down.

“Why do you ask?” Changmin asked, trying to play dumb.

“I just mean that he’s being a lot nicer, a lot less aggressive and competitive and stubborn and all those other words I previously used to describe him. He’s actually… pretty sweet,” you answered, forfeiting a lot more information that you had hoped to a little too early, and consequently your gaze snapped to his to make sure you actually did say all those things. The smile spreading across Changmin’s lips only confirmed your fears, and you were fighting the burning on your face and the surprise in your eyes as you looked back at him.

“I know exactly what that means,” he replied, bringing his coffee up for another sip as those plotting gears started spinning in his head.

A late summer night brought Sunwoo to the bedroom window of your place, a collection of small pebbles in the pocket of that same leather jacket. One by one he plucked them out, throwing them up to the glass pane that glowed with the soft yellow light from a bedside lamp through thin white curtains. You had to have still been awake—he hoped you were still awake.

Pebble by pebble he threw, some hitting the shiplap of your apartment building and others landing against your window, hitting a few times before you finally got up to investigate. When you drew the curtain, Sunwoo was sure his heart leapt into his throat. Nerves suddenly overtook him and he considered dashing, or at least slinking into the shadows; but he shook it off and stood his ground—he needed to say what he came to say.

You pulled the glass up after spotting him, but your tone wasn’t as welcoming as he anticipated.

“Sunwoo, what are you doing here?” you snapped. Was this it, the other shoe dropping?

Just as yours had done so in the past, his jaw queued a couple of responses. The moonlight on his face made his skin glow to perfection, his eyes shimmer that same gorgeous way they always did as he looked up at you and finally decided what to say.

“I… I came to apologize,” he called up to you, his shoes shifting against the grass of the landscape as he stirred for some confidence.

Although you may have been interested in what he had to say, it was too little too late and your hands grabbed the bottom sash of your window with the intention of pulling it closed—

“Please, hear me out,” he snapped before you could close the window on him. “Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot, it was a rough start and, frankly, a long rocky road. I was wrong for the way I treated you, and I needed a little guidance to realize my purpose. I see now that it may have seemed like I despised you, but in all honesty, I’m just really bad at trying to get your attention.”

You swallowed hard, unsure of where exactly this was going, but suddenly your small confession to Changmin seemed like an avalanche waiting to fall. He would never rat you out, would he?

“That’s all I ever wanted. I just wanted you to notice me, to stand out among the others. My approach was… garbage, to be nice. I just wanted you to see me—”

“I don’t think you lacked there,” you replied stiffly. He scoffed.

“So, I’m not really good with words either, and I know you’re hurt with me for the way I treated you, but I thought maybe with the way things have turned around, with how much more open you’ve been with me and actually allowed me to get closer to you, that we could start over?” he inquired. “I heard along the grapevine that you’ve had a change of heart, too.”

And that was it; the avalanche came crashing down like a ton of bricks, and the only defense you thought you had left came out like word vomit.

“You think after everything you did, that I’m just going to come down there and we’re going to kiss and make up?

A smile broke on his face as his gaze cast down to the grass. “I knew deep down in there, that you were just as stubborn without me exacerbating it. Despite that, I don’t think you’re any less beautiful. I don’t think you’re any less sweet, or attentive, or desirable. The fire is one of the biggest reasons I was attracted to you in the first place.”

“Kim Sunwoo,” you almost growled, almost choking on that knot in your throat, especially when his gaze turned back up to you.

“Give me a chance,” he answered. “If you’re going to use my full name like that, certainly I poked at affectionate feelings in there, huh?”

You wanted to smile; something about him just brought that tingling to your lips that you tried to hold back as you cocked an eyebrow.

“And if you did?” you dared.

“Then I might just return to my stubborn roots, and poke them until you come down here.”

You took the sash of your window and tugged it closed, but Sunwoo looked up at it hopefully. He could see the shadow move around behind the drawn curtain and, with a twinge of a smile, waited patiently for the sound of your front door closing behind you. It wasn’t long before you stood in front of him, a light cardigan over your shoulders that you pulled across your body, stepping eye-to-eye with him.

He looked at you with eyes glittering like the universe, the way he had been looking at you for quite some time now, and you didn’t even flinch when he lifted his hand to gentle brush his fingertips against your cheek before you leaned into his touch, pressing his warm palm flat against your skin.

“You know, you’re a lot sweeter than you were before,” you told him, your fingertips somehow finding his on his free hand, playing gently with them as a shy smile cracked against his mouth. He took your hand entirely in his and brought it up to his lips where he kissed the back of your palm and subsequently every single one of your fingers, all the while never once looking away from you.

“I tried to meet fire with fire, because that’s what men with big egos do, and sometimes we need to be kicked down a little bit.”

“A little bit?” you asked.

“Don’t push it,” he answered, fingers sliding from your cheek against your jaw and to the back of your neck to gingerly cup it, just enough to tug you forward and press his lips against your forehead.

#sunwoo #kim sunwoo #tbz #sunwoo fluff #tbz fluff #ailea.writes #again on main bc reasons #Unedited because I am a certain way and if I edit I will delete.

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