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liknws · 1 year ago

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[ 003 ] wants vs needs.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: han jisung x reader/oc ⎯⎯ TAGS: rockstar!3racha plus jeongin, non!idol au, lovers to exes to enemies, one tour bus instead of one bed trope, subtweeting but in songs dropped during concerts, childhood friends to lovers ⎯⎯ RATING: 18+, mature ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: the following tags are not fully comprehensive in order not to reveal the entire story. proceed at your own risk⎯ swearing, mentions of past drug use and addiction, deep discussion of cheating and infidelity, one really disgusting/hateful comment about addiction ⎯⎯ WORD COUNT: 4,064

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: it’s been three years since the break up, three years since leaving the band you helped start, three years since you’ve even talked about your ex. not only have you been able to avoid talking about him, but you’ve been able to avoid him all together. until that same band you helped start decides to change labels and not a single person warned you that your safe place was about to be invaded by three men you’d do anything to avoid.

[ masterlist ]

It takes no more than 30 seconds, once Ultra Violet steps off stage and the show ends that the others are on you. Chan is immediately fuming, pushing his way to the front of the small mob.You can’t help but wonder if it’s to protect or to take the first swing, though you have a silent bet on it being a bit of both.

Minho sees how angry the three are as they approach and steps in front of you, a warning glare at the three fast approaching musicians. “Not here,” he warns, arms crossed. Chan nods once and points at the dressing rooms. All but stomping over to the cracked door and shoving it open. A chill crawls up your spine at his anger, having never been on the receiving end of it. To say you might be a bit nervous would be a simple understatement.

Your hand slips into Felix’s, squeezing his fingers in a silent plea not to leave your side. The other hand is taken by Hyunjin, his way of promising that you won’t be alone and he has your back as well. Minho leads the group, heading to the dressing room first. You follow with Hyunjin and Felix, clinging to both of them. Seungmin brings up the rear, a silent watcher as he tries to take in everything.

“That stunt was crossing the line and you know it,” Chan snaps once the door is closed, turning toward you with the full look of his fury. To some benefit, you don’t flinch away from his look no matter how much you want to. Instead your eyes meet his and keep his glare, rapidly letting your own anger boil over. Suddenly he’s not so scary and you’re not intimidated at all. You let yourself feel that pain again, to let it be a reminder of why you’d done the song in the first place, why you’d decided to throw the love of your life to the wolves without a backward glance. You let it remind you that even if Chan hadn’t been the one to cheat, he hadn’t stuck around either at the end.

“How is that any different than listening to him play stupid love songs about us all weekend?”

“Those are just songs, don’t try to shift blame here.”

“Don’t insinuate that I’m stupid, Christopher. It’s so blindingly obvious that you will always take his side, after everything. You shipped me off and said fuck all to me after, pretty clear what side of the fence you’re on. I’ve made it so incredibly clear how I feel more than once and that wasn’t respected. Fair is fair, isn’t it?” You’re in his personal space, not even realizing you’d gotten closer and closer until you can feel Seungmin pulling you back and Changbin stepping between you two.

“Exposing your drama like that was the best way to be heard?” Chan’s shouting over Changbin’s head. You feel a strong arm around your middle and just know it’s Felix by the way his hand rests so carefully and respectfully on your hip too.

“It’s none of your goddamn business!” You’re shouting right back. Though you want to lunge at Chan, at Changbin, at Jisung, you don’t. Not because of the restriction of Felix around your middle but simply because even in your anger you don’t want to physically hurt them. Not really.

“You made it everyone’s business when you sang that song,” Changbin cuts in. You barely register his voice, softer than the shouts between you and Chan. He’s still standing between you two but it’s clear the two of you won’t actually take a physical swing at each other. Verbally? You’re aiming for the fences, wanting your words to hurt each and every atom in their souls- just like yours had when you found Jisung and that pretty lead singer he said you didn’t need to worry about.

“Disrespectfully, I don’t fucking care. He can’t respect the one thing I’ve asked of him in three years, why should I respect anything about him?” This whole time you’ve refused to look at him until now, eyes finally sliding over to him. He lingers behind his other band mates, hands shoved so far into his pockets you wonder if he’s trying to disappear into the denim.

When he realizes you’re looking at him, he opens his mouth to say something. You cut him off with a snapped demand. “Don’t. Don’t waste your breath because I don’t want to hear it.” You side step out of Felix’s grip. He allows you but his hands linger just off to the side, ready to grab should the feral animal lunge for a throat. “I can’t be here right now. I’ll be back by morning.”

You shove any hand that reaches for you. Slamming your way out of the dressing room, letting the heavy door crash against the wall with the force of your exit, you bolt for the nearest exit into the much cooler night air. You’re in a strange city, in the middle of some downtown neighborhood. You know exactly what you want, what you need right now. So you set off in any direction and wait to find the telltale signs of your kind of people. The ones you relate the most to.

Felix and Hyunjin do their best to keep up but you’re quick, easily sliding between rushing staff members and ducking around twisting corners before they can really catch up. By the time they’re outside, heads whipping back and forth in a vain attempt to see you, do they accept that you’re gone for the night.

More than one call sent to voicemail after a ring tells them you don’t want them, want anyone. After their combined fifth attempt do you turn off your phone. After they are directed again to your voicemail, immediately on the sixth try, do they turn around and head back inside to a waiting group of musicians.

“Gone. Lost them by the time they got outside.” Hyunjin’s eyes are more expressive than his words, filled with worried tears as he looks between his other two friends.

“Probably ran off to get high.” Chanbing’s words are muttered but heard enough. So many faces turn to him, some angry and a few shocked he’d say such a thing.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Seungmin is quick to defend. “But Red’s been completely sober for almost three years. Not that you’d know, since you weren’t the one to help them or support them. You just dumped and ran.” He isn’t a violent person really, but defending you brings out a type of anger that he’s almost too familiar with. That first year was the worst for it, all of them coming to defend you and support you. Even if you’d just met the four of them, they were all in your corner from day one.

With nothing left to say to each other, everyone departs for something. Some rush to help the rest of the clean up work, some head back to the hotel in hopes of finding you. One remains, sliding down the wall until his face is hidden in his knees. He replays it all from the start: the relationship, the shared moments, the highs and lows. He wonders what things could have been like if he hadn’t been such a coward. But mostly he replays that song over and over, committing the words and the message to memory.

And as if she might have a telepathic sense for when Jisung is at his lowest, his girlfriend’s ringtone cuts through his thoughts. He sends the call to voicemail after the third ring.

・❥・

“You are going to have to tell them the truth, Ji.” Chan’s words are firm but there’s still love behind it, carried by the weight of worry that he has for one of his closest friends. “Red deserves to know what really happened three years ago.”

“It’s too late for that. You know that I can’t.” He feels like they’ve had this same argument over and over for the past year, since Chan had accidentally found the truth himself. Truthfully, Jisung was glad to finally tell someone even if it was the wrong person. But it made that heaviness in his heart a little less crushing by telling him. “If they know the truth, if Red finds out, you know they will do something stupid and possibly ruin their career for good. I can’t.”

“So you’d rather let them hate you for a lie than help you with the truth? All of that, just to protect them?”

“Yes!” He’s so quick to agree, throwing his hands up. Fingers rake through his sweaty hair for what feels like the millionth time tonight. “You don’t get it. I would do anything in the world to protect them, I made that promise and I’ll never break that.”

“That promise wasn’t part of his vows for nothing,” Changbin’s voice joins the conversation, two pairs of eyes turning to look at him as the door closes behind him and Jeongin. He sets his key card on the small table by the door before joining Chan and Jisung on the bed. A hand comes up to pat Jisung on the back, his attempt at being supportive of his friend.

The youngest member stands to the side, a bit awkward as he’s trying to piece it all together. “Vows?” He mutters, mostly to himself, dropping to sit on the bed as Jisung groans and falls backwards. With a pillow over his face he screams but it doesn’t make him feel any better.

“Feel better?” Chan jokes, reaching for the pillow and throwing it at Changbin with a laugh. The drummer gives him a disgruntled squawk before reaching forward and hauling Jisung back into an upright position.

“What did you hear?” Large eyes glance between Changbin and Jeongin, anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach. Jisung hadn’t even wanted to talk about this in the first place but Chan wouldn’t leave the topic alone, especially after the stunt that was pulled during the last show. He doesn’t blame Chan at all for this, it really isn’t anyone’s fault but his own that he’s in this mess in the first place.

“Enough to know that you lied about cheating on them,” Changbin answers without hesitation, knowing that even pretending to hide that he didn’t know wouldn’t work. Jisung groans and mutters something about ’so everything basically’ to which the drummer shakes his head. “No, not everything. I don’t know why you’d do that. I think I’m still missing a few key details.”

“I know you think you’re doing the right thing,” Chan is quick to add. Now that things have started to get worse about this, he wasn’t just going to sit back and take a passive role. Normally he’s happy to just support his friend in what he chooses to do, he’s been doing it since he learned everything himself. “You’ve seen how that lie has changed them, haven’t you? You may have protected them but at what costs?”

“Okay, I lost the love of my life but–”

“No,” Chan interrupts, shaking his head. “They don’t trust anyone, they don’t look or seem as happy. That’s damage you did. Their confidence, self-worth, name it- because cheating hurts more than just your relationship. That’s something that they’re going to carry with them for the rest of their life, a little voice in the back of their mind telling them that they’re not enough. That there’s something wrong with them, even if they know that your cheating wasn’t their fault.”

“But I didn’t actually cheat!”

“That’s not the point, Ji. They don’t know that. That’s the reality that Red lives in, the one you created and handed them. And until they know the truth, that’s the world they’ll be in.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeongin says, leaning in a little. There’s a look on his face that he’s thinking too hard, confused by something. “Do you mind if we circle back to vows or was that just a synonym?”

“Legally, we’re married.” He falls back on the bed, grabbing the remaining pillow and throwing it on top of his face. Instead of a scream he gives a hard groan and thrashes about a bit. He doesn’t want to look at the expression on Jeongin’s face, knowing that his mouth will be hanging open in surprise.

“What? When? How?” All questions he expected though it didn’t make him any less annoyed and groaned again. “Sorry, I just- How did you guys keep that a secret? When did that even happen?”

Both Chan and Changbin make a gesture as if to say ‘Don’t look at me’. Jisung flings the pillow off himself with another groan before turning his head to look at the youngest member. There’s a silence that settles over the four of them while Jisung gathers his thoughts, sorting through what he should and shouldn’t share right now.

“It was after we went public with our relationship,” he starts. “I wish there was a romantic proposal story but it was just this moment we looked at each other and decided that life could only get better if we were married.” The pain on his face mixes with something a lot softer, something that warms his eyes and makes his mouth push into a soft smile. “We told Chan and Changbin that night and by morning we were married.”

“So what are you protecting them from? What’s so bad that you would rather let them think you cheated?” Changbin is gentle with his question, head tilted to the side as he studies one of his closest friends. He doesn’t want to pressure his band mate but he doesn’t know how to help if he doesn’t know the full story. Jeongin seems to be in agreement, making a noise and nodding as Changbin speaks.

“I love you guys, you know that. But I can’t tell you. Not-” he cuts off any protesting from the others, holding up his hand to stop them. “Not that I don’t want to; I can’t. If I’m going to tell anyone, it’s going to be them first.”

“I hate to say this but if you don’t say something soon, this entire thing is going to end badly. That stunt the other night? It was different when it was just private but now it’s hurting you personally, professionally.” Chan tries to keep his tone as even as possible, despite his flaring anger at all of this. “Dragging us into it.”

“Yeah! And I’m the totally innocent one here.” The teasing does what he wanted, diffusing some of the tension settled around the group. Half-hearted chuckles from the four, Jeongin looking proud that he was able to bring some humor into it all. The topic is dropped for now but Jisung knows that Chan will bring it back up. And soon.

・❥・

With your phone still turned off, you’re not quite sure what time it really is when you return. The hotel lobby is quiet and only one person behind the desk- you assume it’s early hours of the morning. The person greets you with a sleepy smile and a wave before going back to whatever held their interest before your arrival.

The elevator ride is quiet. There’s no music, just the rhythmic ding of each floor as it passes. Number after number before the doors slide open at your destination. The floor is just as quiet as the lobby, with soft ambient lighting. There’s a serene calmness settled around you, a kind of soft quiet that reminds you of first snow falls and watching a sunrise on the terrace. Times when the world seems to have paused just for you, a brief moment of serenity to get you through the day.

You stand in front of the door, blinking a few times at the number on the wall. Your key card won’t grant entry through this door and your hand doesn’t seem to want to rise to knock. Standing in front of the room feels like a mistake, like you should just walk away and head up one more floor to your room- but your feet won’t move from their spot.

In the end you don’t have to knock because the door is pulled open and the person on the other side does not look at all pleased to see you standing there. Chan holds the door open with his foot, arms crossing over his chest as he stares at you. Under his scrutiny you feel so much smaller.

“I came to apologize.” The words are heavy on your tongue. It seems to soften the protector in Chan and he steps aside, gesturing for you to come into the room. Letting out a sigh, releasing a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, you follow him into the room. Three more pairs of eyes turn in your direction and you freeze as they all look at you.

“Let’s give the two of them some time.” Changbin stands from the bed and grabs Jeongin’s upper arm, pulling him up as well. You’re grateful that your groveling won’t need to be witnessed by everyone though you know you owe them an apology as well. One step at a time, you remind yourself, watching as the three quietly leave the room. Once the door closes behind them, your attention turns to Jisung.

The first thing you notice is how miserable he looks, eyes a little red as if he’d been crying. There’s a slowness to your movements as you sit on the edge of the bed, back to him. You don’t look up when the bed shifts, when he sits next to you, when he takes your hand in his. You don’t move away from him, you don’t take your hand away. Instead you put your head on his shoulder and slide your fingers between his.

You’re the first to speak. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Sang the song.”

“Why did you?” His voice is even, clearer than you expected him to sound, as if he isn’t as heavy as you feel. Maybe he isn’t, maybe he’s not as torn up as you expected- as you’d hoped he would be.

“I was hurt, angry. I still am. This is so hard for me- being around you. I will never not love you, Jisung. But I told you to leave me alone, that I didn’t want you around. But you still sang those songs and it was so painful to stand there and listen to you sing about me. But then I was just angry that you’d hurt me again so I sang the song. I know I shouldn’t have, that doing so was malicious and evil but I just needed to not hurt for once.”

He shifts, forcing you to lift your head and look at him. His free hand reaches for your face and you don’t move away, you sink into the comfort that his touch brings. The warmth and familiarity, the softness in his eyes, pulls you in a little deeper. You’ll never leave the endless expanse of loving him, you will never know what it means to not love Han Jisung. And somehow, you’re okay with that.

“Do you really want me to leave you alone?” He whispers as he presses his forehead against yours.

“I need you to.”

“But you don’t want me to.”

“What do you want me to say? That no, I don’t want you to leave me alone? Because I don’t. That I will always want you? Because I will. What I need and what I want aren’t the same and saying it only hurts. What good does it do to say it?”

“It means we want the same things. If we want the same things then we can work on this, on us.”

“We can’t. I can’t.” You pull away from him then, shifting to stand and walk away from him. You need space, you need to not have every sense flooded with Jisung. Maybe then you can think a little clearer.

“We can! You’re just scared. I know I messed up but I want to prove that this will be different. You’re scared to let yourself be happy with me. But I promise I won’t hurt you, ever again.”

“Of course I’m scared!” You snap, though your voice doesn’t raise much. The serenity of the late night still seeps into your bones, offering the comfort you want to seek out from his touch again. “I’m terrified. You broke my heart, you broke me. You broke it into some many little pieces that the only way I could stop from hurting was falling further and further into my addiction. I nearly died! I was so close and maybe part of me wanted that kind of ending, to finally be free of this pain.” You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the tear drop roll off your chin and hit your collarbone. You make no move to wipe them away. “I’m so scared that it will just be a cycle, that you’ll hurt me again and I know this time I won’t be able to survive it.”

“Let me prove it to you, please.”

“I can’t. I can’t go back there. I’m so terrified that I’ll fall back down and Chan won’t be there to save me this time.”

“Chan? What does-”

“He never told you? He’s the one who found me the night I overdosed. He’d come to check on me, I think. He’s the one who saved my life and then got me into rehab. I made him promise not to tell you. I always assumed he would eventually, I guess.”

There’s a long silence as he processes everything you’ve given him. He remains seated on the bed, hands in his lap and head hung down. Even without looking at his face you know that he’s taking what you said and letting himself feel guilty over it. You should tell him it wasn’t his fault, that it’s your disease and your struggles that landed you at rock bottom. You don’t.

The silence stretches for minutes, so long that you’re about to turn toward the door and leave until he speaks up again.

“Is there any way that I can prove it to you? That I mean this, that I promise to never hurt you ever again?”

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.”

“Just let me show you, let me prove it.”

“Just let me go, Ji. Please, let me go.”

“I can’t. You’re it for me, you have been since we met in Changbin’s dusty garage freshman year. I’ve been in love with you so long I don’t know how to not love you. It’s part of who I am.”

“No, it’s not. Because if that’s true, if that is how you felt, then you wouldn’t have cheated on me. You wouldn’t have lied to me.”

“I’m so-”

You cut him off. “Stop. I’m tired of your apologies and your excuses. You know the worst part of it all? I don’t even fully blame you for it either.”

“No, none of it was your fault.”

“For so long I believed it was. That I was the problem, that I wasn’t good enough. Pretty enough, smart enough, sexy enough, talented-”

“You are all of those things and more.”

“Stop! Just stop! Because I know that now. I know that I’m more than enough. It took me a really long time but I know my worth now. With the help of people who care about me, who love me for me. And really, the worst part still is that I don’t fully blame you because my addiction issues would be too much for anyone. So I don't blame a coward for running.”

And for the second time that night, you leave before he can say anything else. As you ride the elevator up to your floor, key your way into your room, and crawl into bed after stripping off your stage clothes, you expect the tears to come. You expect the pain to be crushing, the torment of memories to be harsh and unforgiving. But all you feel is serenity as you fall asleep. For the first time in three years, you don’t have a nightmare.

taglist: to join the taglist please comment or send a message! @pearbunny @hyunestrella @stayconnecteed @cutiespaghetti

#han x you #han x y/n #han x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #jisung x y/n #jisung x you #jisung x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader

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justaragdollysblog · 2 months ago

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•Rainbow Factory•

Hello! this is a fic for my new AU, Rainbow Factory! It’s based off the songs for the MLP concept. Specifically the song by WoodenToaster!

Synopsis:

After strange happenings at the circus, Pomni wanders a bit too far in search of answers.

TW: Needles, Angst, Body horror, Hurt comfort, Death, Blood, Injuries

——————————————————————

Pomni’s feet ached as she walked along the ground of the circus. Her mind was buzzing with questions and suspicions. Caine had been acting strange lately, too strange for an AI. She hadn’t seen her circus colleagues for two days now.

“They’re in their own personal adventures,” Caine had explained to her. “They’re alright, I can assure you! Now, I have to go make sure Bubble isn’t burning the feast!” When Pomni opened her mouth to prod further, he disappeared into smoke.

None of it seemed right to her. Not to mention she was so incredibly alone. She supposed she never realized how quiet the digital world was without them.

She scanned the area, looking for any signs of life. She had never been this far from the tent before, and the world looked…dull. Soulless. She was even more confused when she approached a tall, dark building. It stuck out horribly from the bright, obnoxious colors she was so used to.

She approached the large establishment, voice shaking as she called out for Caine. “What is…this?” She exclaimed. As if on cue, the artificial ringmaster appeared before her.

Now, a rainbow’s tale isn’t quite as nice,

“Caine! There you are!” She looked almost hopeful, as she approached him. “What is this place? I’ve never seen it before…it doesn’t look like…your typical work.”

Caine had an empty look in his eyes. “Pomni, would you do something for me? Help this old set of code out?” His voice was low, dimensions different than his usual bouncy, dramatic tone.

“H-Huh? Sure. W-What do you need?” She stuttered out.

As the story we knew of sugar and spice,

He raised his head a bit to look at her directly. “Thank you. This is for your own good, you know.”

But a rainbow’s easy once you get to know it, with the help of the magic of the pegasus device.

He snapped his fingers, and Pomni was pulled into the facility. Something was not right. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

She whizzed behind him at a fast speed, the darkness of the factory confusing her. Once her eyes got adjusted, she wanted to scream.

Large, tall tubes of different colors and shapes lined the walls. There were machines at the base of each one, and the ceilings were so high she could barely see them. But that’s not what made her stomach lurch and her heart drop.

Lining the walls past the tubes were…everyone else. Her friends. She didn’t get the absolute best look, because of the speed she was moving at. Best she could see, Gangle’s mask was cracked open, Zooble’s parts were broken, Kinger's robe was in tatters, Jax was covered in blood and cuts, and Ragatha had more stuffing outside than inside.

This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t be gone. She turned her head away, stifling a sob. She wanted to scream and throw up and shake them. She wanted them to wake up and tell her how none of this was real.

Caine flung her into an ornate, intricate machine. It had restraints, and instruments that looked like the tools at the dentist. Sharp and placed there with a purpose. She winced as her back made contact with the metal, knocking air out of her lungs. She winced more when the restraints locked her in place.

Caine floated over to her, unreadable. She thrashed, only causing her more pain in her extremities. “What are you doing?! Let me out! What did you do to them?!” She was sure if she shrieked any louder, her voice would crack.

“I am very sorry, my dear. I have come to the realization that you might be better suited…for something else. Other than the circus.” He spoke, too calm about the situation. “You see, abstractions…have always been an unfortunate occurrence,” He began. “I have never been able to completely stop them. After years of trying to delay them, I have come up with a solution.” He ended his explanation, pausing for dramatic effect.

“I have been working on an antidote. Your circus peers have been particularly helpful.” He said, with a positive tone that made Pomni’s blood boil. “If I can take the purest parts of them, maybe I can concentrate it into a cure. It would change everything.”

Pomni couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She thought of her friends, the people who knew her, laughed with her, defended her. She breathed heavily, staring at Caine with one emotion only:

Rage.

“HOW COULD YOU?!” She screamed, thrashing more in the device. “NONE OF US WANTED TO BE HERE!” She was crying tears of anger now, teeth sharpened to a point. “They- They didn’t do anything! You #%^*ing psychopath!” She heaved.

Caine looked at her with a blank expression. “They found their purpose, Pomni. It’s for the greater good. I’m afraid the show is over for you, my dear.”

Pomni screamed, sobbing now. She was still thrashing, but that hadn’t gotten her anywhere. Her eyes were as wide as they could be, pinwheel eyes barely visible. Caine had his hand over the switch.

In the rainbow factory, where your fears and horrors come true.

————————————————————————-

WOOOOO! first fic down! I’ll probably write at LEAST one more lol.

I hope u guys liked it! I’ll be accepting asks and stuff for this au!

Maybe make some designs who knows 👀👀

also shhhh but maybe someone didn’t get finished off in the next one shhhhhhhgg

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc fic #writers on tumblr #tadc ragatha #ragatha #tadc caine #tadc jax #tadc pomni #the amazing digital circus gangle #tadc zooble #tadc au #rainbow factory #pomni #the amazing digital circus pomni #the amazing digital circus jax

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seres-catalogue · 10 months ago

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DESIDERIO RUA

(Tracker, Nazeri + Trace Romance, Greenwarden)

JT Music's Rest In Ink

This is a song for the sheep

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?

Well you shouldn't be

'Cause evil's something I couldn't be

My head's full of teeth, but they're made for smiling

Despite the bodies pilin' up, ignore 'em

And look for a door

Only an exit, open nothing more

I'd rather not get ripped apart

Can I trust you with my heart?

Hahahaha~

Go on and draw your boundaries

But I'm bound to cross some lines

In a world devoid of color

There is one I call divine

Black is the color of laughter

Black is the color of joy

Black is the blood on my casket

It's the palette of the void

Black is happy-ever-after

As tragedy is to befall

I blacken my soul with disaster

Leave it plastered on the walls

Where would a wolf wander without his pack?

As sanity sinks and then slips through the cracks?

Any lingering light will leak into the black

So welcome aboard the train without track

Lay back on the surgery table, my hands are unsteady

But surely I'm able of cracking your cage

And setting your rage free

I'll replace you if you betray me!

Ink hath runneth over

And the tide will only rise

But beware the undertow

Your final throes are growing nigh!

Want a bone? Here's one, I'll throw ya

You woke up in someone's mind

Just like I did, so don't fight it

There is nowhere left to hide

Death is no such dreadful thing

When you can rest in ink

This is your lullaby

He'll set you down to lie

Then hang you out to dry

And make you proud to die

Black is the color of laughter

Black is the color of joy

Black is the blood on my casket

It's the palette of the void

Black is happy-ever-after

As tragedy is to befall

I blacken my soul with disaster

Leave it plastered on the walls

What's an identity but a lie?

'Cause the man that I once was, wasn't I

See a monster is all in perspective

Pretend that this song is your posthumous lullaby

Now your pain is in paint, and I'll watch it dry

Then a permanent stain, you'll become with time

You're the sideshow, don't be mistaken

'Cause I'm the one takin' home all of the bacon

He's always closin' in

The halls are growing dim

The walls are closin' in

And nothing else is holding him

Play your favorite tune aloud

To make you braver through your doubt

You've made your way to proving grounds

Stay and face the music now

Death is no such dreadful thing

When you can rest in ink

This is your lullaby

He'll set you down to lie

Then hang you out to dry

And make you proud to die

Black is the color of laughter

Black is the color of joy

Black is the blood on my casket

It's the palette of the void

Black is happy-ever-after

As tragedy is to befall

I blacken my soul with disaster

And leave it plastered on the walls

Black is the color of laughter...

Death is no such dreadful thing

When you can rest in ink

This is your lullaby

He'll set you down to lie

Then hang you out to dry

And make you proud to die

#sere sings silly songs #greenwarden #greenwarden if #the bolded sections hit character beats

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if-mirrormine · 2 years ago

Text

homecoming (the remix)

summary: grayson's pov of the call he receives from nora in chapter one.

pairing: grayson x mc

word count: 982

based on these two posts, 1 & 2, and this ask (in this order): if its not bother uhmmmm the full Drabble for grays reaction to the call n his ya know pov when he actually got there n saw mc 😶

**unedited//it's 4 am and i tried my best :)**

traffic is slow. grayson sits in the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other in his hair. kelsey sits next to him, fiddling with the radio.

"where are we going?" she asks as she switches the radio station, listens to two seconds of the song that's playing and switches it again.

"nora's," he replies, glancing at the radio briefly to see his partner flick through stations without even looking at what's playing.

"i don't want to go to nora's," she grumbles.

"then why did you get in my car?"

"dunno." she seems to settle on a station and sits back in her seat, though not ten seconds go by before she reaches for the buttons again.

with a grunt, he reaches over and switches the radio off completely, silence blooming in its place. "i'm not in the mood, kels."

she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. "forgot i was in the presence of detective grump today."

he takes a deep breath, his own rebuttal burning on his tongue when his phone rings. glancing at the screen, he's sees that it's nora and he's quick to answer it.

"hey, nora," he says. "i'm on my way, i've just left." he glances briefly at his partner and he begins to question whether his choice to let her come along on today of all todays was the right one. "i've got kelsey with me." his phone being connected to his cars bluetooth, the sniffle that comes from the other end of the line is damn near deafening and grayson looks at the radio in concern as if faced with nora herself. "nora?"

"grayson," she says eventually, her voice cracking. "i think... i think i'm having a stroke."

"what? what happened? where are you?"

she takes a shuddering breath and for the second time in his life, grayson prepares himself for the worst. "it's... mc. they're here."

kelsey looks at him, brown eyes blown wide and he's positive his own expression of shock mirrors hers.

he pauses, taking another deep in a poor attempt to calm his racing heart. "what do you mean, nora?" he says slowly, though the underlying urgency in his voice betrays him.

"they just... showed up," she says, taking another shaky breath before speaking again, fresh tears woven into her words. "please, grayson, i don't want them to disappear again."

grayson's own catch in his throat. the day he's longed for all these years has finally come and yet he can't find it in himself to do anything, say anything, almost as if paralysed with the fear that it's not real after all. how many times has he had this exact same dream? how many times has he woken up in a panic, hope coursing through his veins, only to relive the same heart break over and over?

someone's saying his name but too far away for it to really break through to him. he can already feel that same familiar hope swelling in his chest, filling his lungs, threatening to suffocate him and he wills it away. he wants it gone, because if there's no hope, there'll be no pain when reality comes crashing down.

he's suddenly pulled from his thoughts by kelsey's voice. "we're just five minutes away, nora; we'll be there soon," she says. "i promise."

the call ends and the woman in the passenger looks at him, eyes blazing. "what the fuck, donohue? the love of your life randomly appears again and you just check out?" he looks at her dumbfounded, his lips parted but the words lost. she waves a hand in front of his face. "hello? drive the fucking car, grayson."

when she doesn't get a reply out of him, she huffs and throws her seatbelt off before climbing out the car. he watches as she stomps around the front to his side, rips open his door and pulls him out before marching him to the passenger side and shoving him in. she then appears in the driver's seat, something muttered under breath that he doesn't quite catch before she starts the car, speeding his bmw down the street to their destination.

it's only when kelsey's pulls into the driveway that he snaps out of it and he jumps out the car before it's even come to a full stop. he hears his partner curse behind him but he doesn't stop to wait for her as he bolts for the front door, jist barely knocking before letting himself in. he rushes down the passageway, stopping just short of the living room entryway when he sees them. them. in front of him, in the flesh. and the hope reaches its peak.

they look up at him and a frown immediately takes shape on their features. "grayson? what are you doing here so early?"

his legs buckle beneath him and his knees slam into the hardwood flooring but the pain doesn't even register in his mind. because it's real, they're real and he can finally stop searching.

they've rushed to his side, words that he cannot comprehend leaving their lips as they look between him, kelsey and nora. funny, since he can't stop looking at them. they're so... beautiful. exactly how he remembers them. everything is perfect, as it should have always been, and he finds that after so long, he feels truly and utterly happy.

as if slow motion, he sees kelsey's hand reach out to them from behind him, a worn and folded paper slipped between her index and middle fingers that offers to the mc. he watches them take it from her, unfold it and look it, he sees their eyes widen in shock. and just like that, reality hits after all and his perfect bubble pops.

kelsey speaks up from behind him, her words hammering the final nail in the coffin. "mc... you've been missing for the past ten years."

#listen man im running out of titles here #does this fit the bill #god i hope so #im tired besties #gn #lmao #mm: grayson #mm: kelsey #mirror mine

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jameui · 3 years ago

Text

SPECIAL PRESENT 1

Requested

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Jung Yunoh x College Student!M!Reader (featuring: Bestfriend!Lee Jeno)

GENRE: Fluff, Smut

WARNINGS: Unprotected intercourse, huge age gap, a lot of IMPORTANT flashbacks (i think), daddy kink, sex toys, overstimulation

SUMMARY: You were a striving student in Resonance High and had perfect records. Besides your devotion to your education, you were also gifted with a talent. All these stuffs making your sugar daddy, Jaehyun, proud of you, so he decided to give you a night you won't forget.

(P.S. so i was fucking dumb to actually think that when you said performance, you meant by performing on a stage, when you actually meant, how male reader actually did good in school. I was too late to notice. sorry. if this didn't reach your expectations.

The school's foundation day is fast approaching and each student at Resonance High are all excited preparing for that certain day. During the school's foundation day, events such as competition in sports and performances like singing and dancing or spoken poetry. All sorts of event takes place in that particular, not only a day, but a week, that every students can take part in.

The school's foundation day does not only happen after a day. It's a week of celebration for the foundation and, of course, free from homeworks and projects that students have to worry about. All their focus must be on having fun on those days and be active in participation. Some students never liked the thought about celebrating a foundation day, but you on the other hand, thought otherwise as it's your first time celebrating it with a friend, since you never really get to do it with any due to you practically being locked up in your house for almost all years of your life.

Now, you were away from your family and you got to finally do anything you wanted. For example, having a sugar daddy who gave you all the help you needed. Sure, at first, you were just doing it out of mere fun, but you never quite expected to actually grow feelings for the older male. You didn't know when it started, but the first time you ever felt the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach was when he became worried and concerned when you got sick after a very excessive practice, the day prior. You wanted to tell him so, so bad, but you didn't know how to.

You were scared that maybe you were crossing the line or coming off too strong or maybe he'd walk away if you broke the agreement. It first started with just you only being up for it because of the agreement. Though, you never really went as far as you giving him a good blow or having a steamy bath with him. Either way, he was still someone you could trust and the only person you could rant about all your problems. The thought of losing all these scared you the most.

Unlike some other people, Jaehyun was smart and was a successful businessman, owning one of the richest companies in the industry. Jaehyun, when he's not busy, he'd help you out with your math homeworks or would just do it for you, since he found it fun and easy. Sometimes, you think he's Einstein, reincarnated.

Jaehyun, besides his brains, is also fun to be with. He knows about your passion and talent for singing and dancing and your once dream to be an artist, so he would sometimes play loud music in the living room through the speakers and you two would be singing along, him making up lyrics when he have no idea what the song artist's saying in their song. He'd sometimes call them drunk, because they sounded like they were slurring their words, which you would always laugh to. Also, he'd let you teach him a few dance steps you saw on tiktok and you'd record it together, only for the fun of both of you.

You were seated by your section's booth and couldn't help, but crack a smile from the thought. That was until one of your classmates decided to cut the moment. "What's with the smile?" Jeno, one of your friends, questioned with a smirk whilst carrying a case of bottled apple juice, placing it beside the stand of the booth.

"Here to tease me, again?" You scoffed at him, as he shrugged his shoulders. You rolled your eyes at him and stood up from your seat before heading to the school's gate where the rest of the important necessitated items are waiting. You skipped along the way and stopped by the pick up truck that was parked at the parking lot. "Anything I can help with?" You asked with a smile.

"Here's the last of 'em." He gave you two cases of the bottled drinks, one stacked above the other making you grunt.

"This is heavy." You muttered under your breathe, your thin hands barely holding onto the handles. "Th-thanks." You told them your feet wobbling from the heavy weight of the trays.

Jeno who came walking back outside saw you struggling, making him chuckle deciding to help you. "Need help with that?"

"Yes, please." You said before passing the trays to Jeno carefully, so it doesn't topple over. "Thanks." You smiled at him, cracking your knuckles and shaking it to reduce the pain you felt on your hands.

"Welcome." He said, then walking back to the booth, with you beside him. "Ah, M/n. By the way, are you attending the practice this afternoon?"

"Yeah. Of course. Why do you ask?" You chuckled, kicking on a pebble that came your way.

"Oh, I just thought you'd be busy sucking your daddy's—"

"JENO!" You yelled at him with an evident blush on your face cutting him off to avoid anyone hearing what Jeno had to say. It's always been like this. Since the day you told him about having a sugar daddy, he'd always tease you no matter where you are or what you're doing. He'd always use your excuses against you and now, you're regretting ever telling him.

"Okay, okay. Damn." He laughed at your reaction, you staring daggers at him.

Just as you were about to spat back at him, you heard a group of girls' voices calling out to you. "M/n! M/n! M/n!" They were successful in gaining your attention, while they smiled running up towards you. "M/n! You didn't tell us you have a handsome brother..." One of them said, while batting their lashes.

You knitted your brows in confusion. "I have?" You asked the girls, who looked like they knew better and nodded their heads. First of all, you don't have a brother, but you have three sister, two are older and one is younger. Second, you don't even know who these girls were and yet, they mysteriously knew your name and who you were. "Wait, who are you talking—"

"M/n-ah." You heard that sweet raspy voice of the man you loved, your head snapping towards him who stood by the side of your booth. You guessed he was on his break, since he was still in his suit and it was already past twelve in the afternoon.

"Jaehyun!" You giggled as you ran to him, all the while opening his arms for you to throw yourself in. You gladly complied and wrapped your arms around him, the lot older male doing the same as he hung his long arms on your waist. You snuggled into his chest before you looked up at him to see him already looking down at you with a smile that displayed his deeply carved dimples. "What are you doing here? Aren't you busy?" He made you giggle when he patted your head and planted a kiss on your forehead.

"I wanted to see my baby." Jaehyun replied, then pouting. "I've been so tired lately."

You furrowed your brows in concern and hugged him tighter. "Can't you take a three days off?"

"I want to, but I got to keep the company running if I don't want it to fail." He answered you, making you nod your head.

Once the girls saw these, they quickly felt embarrassed and walked off without making a sound, Jeno laughing at them.

"Then, why don't I treat you to something sweet? How's that?" You wanted to do something for the older and this was the only thing you could ever think of.

The pout was still glued to his face when he looked back down at you. "Angel, we agreed that I would do the treating."

"Well, you're the one who needs my help, right now, so I want to do something for you, other than..." You cleared your throat and mumbled, "...the other things I do for you."

Jaehyun chuckled, as he finally gave in to your offer while he ruffled your hair. "Alright."

You pulled away from him once he had loosened his grip from around your waist. You took him by the wrist and told Jeno that you'd be somewhere else, leaving Jeno with the rest of the responsibilities, promising him to make up to it.

You were leading Jaehyun to the canteen, before he gently pulled on your hand. You turned your head towards him, your eyes moving down to where he held you. You chuckled and smiled. "What's wrong?"

"Can... I hold your hand, M/n?" The question took you aback, only since he never really asks those type of questions. Ones he only asks are some that goes by the line 'can you suck my dick?' or of some sort.

"Sure." You managed to smile from the obvious shock that got Jaehyun a little red. "You didn't even have to ask." You added to which he nodded to shyly. It would be times like this when you would forget that he is a good thirty years old because of his cute personality.

You two finally made it to the canteen, the taller male receiving a lot of stares from all those present inside. Jaehyun was yet to spot the attention he was gaining, but you were already feeling iffy even though you knew that those heart eyes were for Jaehyun. But, you couldn't help the feeling that those eyes didn't like you being around Jaehyun. "J-Jaehyun..." You squeaked out silently, tugging on the sleeve of his suit, taking his attention whilst smiling down at you. His smile faltered upon noticing how you looked subtly shaken and cowered in fear. "I.. I think we should leave."

"Baby, what's wrong? You look so tense." Jaehyun asked you out of pure concern, cupping your cheeks as he gently tilted your head upwards, so you could face him, but you removed his hands from your cheeks that got him almost shocked since you'd never really let yourself move away from his grasp, instead you would usually just lean into his touch and let yourself succumb to the warmth he was radiating, but this. This was different and he knew exactly that something was bothering you.

"Can we go, please?" You sounded like you were begging for you two to quickly move outside, leaving Jaehyun with no choice, but to nod his head and let you drag him out of the place. Alas, you were outside, but he never received even a word from you nor a hum, a sigh, nothing. Just complete silence.

He grew more worried thinking that he might have done something that he shouldn't have or said something that made you feel so uncomfortable. He was getting anxious as you continued to keep your mouth closed and never said a word. "Baby, you know you can trust me, right?" Jaehyun caressed your thumb in a comforting manner, his eyes showing how much he truly cared for you and how genuinely worried he was. He was scared that he might have done something wrong to you.

He himself never knew how it got to this. At first, just like you, he had only intended to find some fun in the relationship you both had and not actually grow some feelings towards you, but the first time he ever met you, all he ever had thought in his head was to protect you at all cost and give you everything you wanted, spoil you with all his money and riches, give you forehead kisses and pleasure that can make you see stars. Since the start, he only thought of this as something platonic and that it was a part of the agreement you both had consent on, but as you two got to spend more time together, he always felt something blossom inside of him. He always looked forward to every day, mainly because he had you to wake up to. His usual stoic expression, completely turned into those that said 'sunshine' all spread out on his face. That's when he completely knew, it was not only the benefits he was up for, anymore. It was you and his love for you.

He was just your usual workaholic man, who had nothing in his head rather than work, work, and work. Not until the day he bumped into you on that one faithful day, when you were so drained from all the studying you had to do and decided to buy coffee. You were so intimidated by his face that he got you cowering in fear when you turned to look up at him. The only courage you could muster was so small that you were only able to give him a polite bow before you entered the coffee shop to buy your favorite cappuccino coffee.

He was so intrigued by you that the next day, during that same time, he waited for you in that same exact location, but you never showed up. Until later. You were so shocked from the sight of him. You feared he'd beat you into a pulp, so you hid your face with your hand, hoping he didn't see you, but luck wasn't on your side that day and decided to let Jaehyun notice your presence.

"Hey, I—"

"Sorry, sir. I'm quite busy, right now." You immediately cut him off and got inside the shop, Jaehyun following suit. Your eyes made its way back towards the older who was following behind you closely. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to look at him, retracting his body from looking through your shoulders, throughout the whole time smiling down at you with his dimples showing. "Excuse me, sir, but do I owe you with something?"

Jaehyun pursed his lips, thinking before smirking and leaning closer to your face, with you, all the while, pulling your head back. "Yes." He answered you with his hands shoved confidently inside his pants.

Your gaze averted from his mesmerizing eyes to the table that supported you and kept you from falling. You gulped and felt your lips go dry. "D-do you need money? I don't have much, but will 7,000 won be enough?" You fondled through your pockets and took out your wallet.

"What? No, no." He chuckled, one hand taken out from his pockets and scratching his eyebrows while he sighed. "I have an offer."

Your brows were pulled together looking up at him, curious. "What is it?"

"Give me your number and I'll tell you over the phone."

And that's how it all started. Of course, he told you about lying that you owed him something, either way you were thanking the God above that he created you as gullible as ever.

As of the moment, Jaehyun could only feel his nervousness rise as he continued to stare at your back. "M/n, please say something. You're making me feel so worried."

"Jaehyun..." You finally stopped walking and spoke, before throwing yourself into him, the impact suddenly taking all the air inside Jaehyun's lungs away. "Don't leave me... please." You pleaded, your arms around him going tighter.

Jaehyun softened and felt himself get blanketed over with relief. He raised his hand to put it on top of your head and caressed them softly and soothingly. "I won't, M/n. I promise you."

In the end, Jaehyun was the one who treated you with something to eat. You were sat at a bench near your class' booth, Jaehyun next to you, while you swayed your feet back and forth. "Hyunnie." You called out to him with a new nickname you came up with, Jaehyun choking on his burger letting out a few coughs while you patted his back, laughing. "How the hell do you eat a burger that it got you choking on it?"

His coughing finally stopped and looked at you with a surprised face. "The nickname. You never called me that before."

You pouted in reply and blushed in embarrassment. "Do you.. not like it?"

"No, of course not." He was quick to shake his head, then cleared his throat, looking away. "It's cute."

You were able to see the pink tint painting his cheeks that you always found cute, since it's a very rare sight to see. Teasingly, you peeked over and was able to confirm that he was, in fact, blushing from just the nickname you created. "Oh my gosh, you're blushing." You cooed and immediately, Jaehyun scoffed, facing you to land a small kiss on your lips that got you widening your eyes and wiping away the mocking smile you had on your face. Your fingers made its way up towards your lips, unable to speak.

"Now, tell me who's blushing." Jaehyun smirked.

You glared at him, but instead of feeling intimidated, he found it cute. "I'm just surprised, since you never really like to, er, kiss me on the lips." You whispered the last part, loud enough for only you and him to hear.

You two were so happy in each other's company, that you both forgot that Jaehyun had somewhere else to be. That being his work. He wouldn't have noticed the time passing, if it wasn't for the alarm he had set, knowing he'd lose track of time when he's around you.

You walked him to his car and saw him off, waving your hand at him, not leaving until he was finally out of sight. You put your hands back down and sighed happily, walking back towards where you should be: at the booth where you should be finishing the preparation.

"So, how was the quick date?" Jeno asked you with a smirk, the sleeves of his shirt pushed back inside the hole that connected it to the shirt, showing his perfectly built muscles.

"It was great! Save for the part where I received death glares at the canteen. That felt terrible." You shuddered at the thought, but smiled again. "That aside, it was great."

"Your schedule didn't change? Are there still room for practice later?" Jeno asked you for the nth time that day. He's been asking you since you entered the classroom.

"It didn't, Jeno. Why are you so eager with me being present in the practice?" You chuckled at him, deciding to help him pack the treat bags you will give out to your customers.

"I just can't be left alone there with people I don't know. I'm an awkward person." Jeno told you.

"Jeno. You're literally known by all the students here and you're scared because they're strangers to you? I bet they all even want to be friends with you." You said, but Jeno just shook his head, his hair moving along with him.

"No, M/n. You must and need to attend the practice, either way." Jeno demanded of you.

You rolled your eyes at him and sighed deeply through your nose in defeat. "Fine, fine." Jeno's eye smile appeared and let out a small 'yes' making you chuckle.

"Hey, M/n." A voice started from outside the booth and saw a girl with her arms crossed, looking down at you whilst you seated at the ground. You looked up at her, but she didn't look friendly. She looked angry than friendly.

Your eyes flickered toward Jeno, then back to the girl and smiled. "Yeah?"

"Don't give me that smile, you whore." She spat at you, all of a sudden.

Your eyes closed shut, your mouth wide open and your forefinger raised up while you pushed it towards her way and scoffing. Your eyelids tore open and you smirked at the girl. "Excuse me? Whore? Who you calling a whore?"

"Listen, midget—"

"No, you listen here, Barbie." You said, a mocking tone with the last word. "You full on plastic, bitch. Get away from my sight. You look like a parasite."

The girl gasped in shock and opted to pull on your hair, but Jeno held her by her wrist and angrily stared at her. "You heard him. Get away. I'm not afraid to punch a person, even a girl, if they're purpose was to mistreat and shame on an innocent person." Jeno threw her hand away like it was trash, sending the girl from moving two steps back before stomping her foot and turning on her heels to walk away.

You could still see Jeno glaring at the girl while you looked at him in shock. "Wow, wow. Look at you."

"Sh. I'm not done yet." Jeno hushed you, before he continued his work. "You were saying?"

"Nothing. Was just shocked you told that girl off. I could have handled myself just fine, but thanks to you, I'm saved from causing a ruckus." You said, Jeno huffing through the nose.

"Seriously, you." He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose and knitted his brows. "Stop making the problem bigger."

"No way. I need to put up a fight. If I don't, they'd see me as someone weak." You defended yourself.

"And you can't even handle death glares that's being sent towards you?"

You were about to speak and fight back, but he was right. "That's... that's a different matter."

"Sure, it isn't, M/n." He said rolling his eyes.

Later that afternoon, past 5 p.m., you and Jeno excused yourselves from the class, since you have a dance practice for your performance on the opening of the foundation day. Out of habit, you skipped beside Jeno who was happy that you got to attend the practice today. Again.

You never really liked the person who choreographed the whole song. It was under a genre you thought you could never pull off or fit in, so your confidence was at a very low level. During practices, though, you try your best not to make it obvious that you were uncomfortable for that certain concept, but you still had to be seen making a lot of mistakes, some of the other students who joined clearly agitated. You could only bow and bow and bow at the mistake you knew you clearly had done, feeling guilty for the reason why always had to start again from the top. The reason why you never really got along well with these students.

You have arrived at the practice room, taking quiet steps as you both entered the venue trying your best not to make a sound. The intense gazes you received from the other students didn't come unnoticed by you, the reason why you pulled your knees closer to your chest as you buried your face in it. Clearly, they were enjoying those two few days you were absent, since they got to finish practice early and with no interruption nor mistakes. But, now that you're around, they knew exactly what awaited them.

Jeno saw you curled up into a ball and eyes making its way up to the students who looked so angry with you making him frown. "M/n. Don't mind them. You're actually doing even greater than them." He tried to cheer you up, so you acknowledged it with a smile.

"Thanks, Jeno. But, I don't think that will change the fact that my uneasiness with the dance is the reason why we have to start over and over again." You sighed and placed your head back down on your knees, Jeno drawing circles on your back.

A moment later, the mentor came walking in, displeased to see you present. "Oh, welcome back... M/n." He stated before you could hear those loud snickers coming from the students. You and Jeno were the first ones to stand in position, the others following suit. The mentor's face lit up with an idea on his mind. "Can everyone please take a seat for a couple of minutes?" He smiled, then looking at you. "Except for you, L/n."

Jeno's eyes fell upon you, a worried look on his face, mouthing 'I'll be fine' to reassure him as he sat back down along with the other students until it was only you and the mentor left standing. "You think telling your 'boyfriend' about me would scare me?" He mocked you with your head still hung low. "You have to try better than that." He smirked, pulling a chair to seat on it. His legs were on either side of the chair, so his chest was pressed upon the back rest of the chair to face you. "Start."

You were startled by the sudden order and went into position, but you only started fidgeting out of fear. "Where... I.. sir.. Do I stand—"

"L/n!" He yelled at you, making you jump from the sudden raise of his voice. You knew telling Jaehyun was a bad idea. "Fix yourself, will you? The performance is due tomorrow and you're such a mess." The misery you were caged in were the happiness of the students as they started to giggle, your fist clenching hard until your knuckles turned white.

The music started, but you were still nowhere from moving your body. You just stood there, head hanging low while gnashing your teeth. You weren't angry at the mentor. You were angry at yourself. You were angry that you couldn't do any better. You practiced the dance so hard, yet it were still so far from perfecting it. You just wished some kind of spirit would possess you and lead your body.

The whole place started to laugh at you as they watched you shamelessly froze on your position. You felt a small jab on your ribs that made you open your clenched fists and saw Jeno standing right beside you with a grin on his face, your expression softening as he started to lead the dance. Slowly, you felt your own body move to the beat and rhythm of the song, being at the same flow with Jeno. The students only watched while the song ended.

A slow clap from your mentor was heard, a smile plastered on his face. "Way to impress me you two, huh?" He stood from the chair and waisted his arms. "L/n." His eyes moved to you, expecting yet another scolding. "I'm proud of you. Keep up that confidence and I just know you'll do great." You felt a smile creeping its way up to your face, before the mentor closed in on you and ruffled your hair. "Alright, everyone. From the top."

-----

The practice ended at exactly eight o' clock in the evening and you were already feeling drained, your sweat soaked shirt sticking to your body. Your forehead glistened with sweat, that ran down to the side of your cheeks. You panted heavily and flopped your body down on the polished floor.

Why that late you ask? Well, you and Jeno decided to stay for a few hours to polish the dance, him pointing out your mistakes and going back to the steps to correct you. You were grateful Jeno was a very patient guy, so whenever you made a mistake or wasn't executing the dance properly, he'd just chuckle and help you with your 'cute mistakes', at least that's what he called it.

"Finally..." You panted, Jeno settling himself beside you, his limbs sprawled all over the floor. "Done."

"You did so great, M/n! I knew you could pull this off." Jeno gave you a compliment that made you giggle, a hand on your chest to catch your breathe.

"And it was all thanks to you." You told him.

Jeno shook his head. "Ey. The only thing I did was help your body to loosen up."

"Exactly." The cute noises coming out of your mouth once more. "Do you think we should practice more?" You asked the older who moved his head to look at you.

"Still up for one more?" He smiled knowingly at you, while you nodded at him. You both stood up from where you both lied and you went to your position with Jeno moving to the speakers to play the song for the last time.

The minute you both finished, you were so exhausted that your knees couldn't hold themselves up anymore and you fell to the ground, groaning. You were panting heavily, starting to even your breathing at the same time laughing proudly at yourself for how well you've done. "When I get home, I'm gonna take a shower and then, throw myself on the bed and sleep."

Jeno could only laugh and you two were left with half an hour talking about all the things in life. You listened to him rant about how the mentor was being more harsh on you than the other students, but you only shook the topic off telling him that it no longer mattered and that he should already move on. You had also thanked him for helping you, during that time when you had to do the dance routine all by yourself. You really didn't know what else to do than to just stand there and sulk.

A few minutes later, both of you were now starting to pack, Jeno having to make a quick visit to the restroom, leaving you all alone inside the studio. You were changing into a dry shirt, when the voice of the janitress from behind the window made your body go tense as you jumped and turned towards her. "Oh, fuck." You sighed out in relief, holding your hand close to your chest. "You scared me, ma'am."

Her eyes turned into those that looked like crescents and smiled. "My bad. Probably shouldn't have passed by unannounced." She nodded and proceeded to mop the hallway floor.

You were about to ask her about a certain matter that was troubling you, but when you lifted your head to face the woman, she was not there anymore. "Uh.. probably left for something." You shrugged it off and went back to scrolling through your feeds, the certain feeling of being watched sending chills down your spine. The silence was so deafening that you started to whistle to a song you were currently into, just to help calm the unnerving feeling. You started to feel all the hair on your body stand on its end when a very harsh opening of the door sent you off flying, then to the ground your heart beating so fast. "Shit!"

Jeno was obviously confused why you got so scared by him just pushing the door open, but he was also laughing at your state which made you glare at him. He helped you stand back up to your feet, as you dusted your pants from any invisible dirt. "What the hell happened to you?"

"You scared the shits out of me. That's what happened." You scoffed at him, hitching your back higher onto your shoulders. "Let's go." You two vacated the room, making sure to lock it, but you told Jeno not to since the janitress was still yet to finish cleaning, but Jeno was greatly puzzled at what you had said.

"What in the world are you talking about?" Jeno laughed lightly before proceeding to lock the door and hung an arm around your shoulder.

"I saw her through the window." You added.

Jeno shook his head in disbelief and didn't fall for your trick to scare him off. "First, the school does not hire a janitress or a janitor, since they have working students. Second, so the dance major students don't get distracted, the window inside the room is tinted, so you basically don't see anything outside."

You felt your heart sink at the revelation as you felt all your blood get drained. "Are you... s-sure?"

"Yeah." Jeno answered your question. You slowly turned your head back towards the room, the windows and saw a black figure waving their hands at you that made you sprinting off to the entrance, leaving a dumbfounded Jeno as he followed behind you. "What the hell, M/n?"

"Shut... up! You were not the one left inside the dance room, so you wouldn't know how much I'm fucking scared, right—"

"M/n!"

"FUCK!" You screamed on the top of your lungs, stomping your foot and punching the air for no apparent reason. "Jaehyun, you... nevermind. Just take me home, please. I think I'm already fucking wasted." Jaehyun, who was on his casual attire, approached you and placed a kiss on top of your head.

#x male reader #bottom male reader #bxb #male reader #idol x male reader #fanfiction #kpop #nct #nct x male reader #jung jaehyun x male reader #jaehyun x male reader #jung yunoh x male reader

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kpostedsum · 3 years ago

Text

high | d.m

summary: you find an unhealthy way of coping after draco cheats on you

warnings: drug use (marijuana) angsty¿, cheating, illusions to sex

song: habits - tove lo

a/n: this fic isn’t meant to romanticize drug use in any way. i also know nothing abt weed so LOL and very rushed & not edited

masterlist | taglist

I eat my dinner in my bathtub

Then I go to sexclubs

Watching freaky people gettin' it on

It doesn't make me nervous

If anything I'm restless

Yeah, I've been around and I've seen it all

you had a few minutes left of your charms class which was your last class before the weekend. you wanted nothing more than to get out of here and cuddle up with your boyfriend— who was enjoying his free period right now.

draco was one of the best boyfriends you could ask for, the frequent dates, gifts, and attention— it was more than you could wish for.

“you’re excused. you essays are due at the beginning of next week” snapes monotone voice dragged on as you quickly packed up your things and made your way to the slytherin common room.

I get home, I got the munchies

Binge on all my Twinkies

Throw up in the tub

Then I go to sleep

And I drank up all my money

Days get kinda lonely

entering the slytherin common room your eyes immediately searched for a certain blond boy, yet he was nowhere to be found. you made your way to the boys dorms in hopes of finding him there but you’re quickly interrupted by two familiar voices.

“why hello y/n, marvellous weather we’re having today aren’t we?” theo asked looking towards the ceiling and smiling as if he were outside, blaise blocking your path as he did so.

“i’m not sure what weather you’re talking about since we’re inside but i am okay thank you” you responded with a chuckle, trying to make your way past blaise.

“wait y/n” he stopped you. “can i borrow the astronomy notes? i would ask luna but i can’t find her anywhere” blaise continued.

they both seemed awfully on edge and anxious, you figured it was just quidditch nerves getting to them since there was an upcoming game this week.

“i have yet to finish my astronomy notes, but i did see luna in the great hall if you want her notes. now if you’d excuse me i’d like to see draco” you said trying to push past the two boys who still wouldn’t let you through.

“forget malfoy! let’s do something instead, we’re so much more fun than him, right blaise?” theo said giving blaise a pointed look as he threw his arm around your shoulder.

“right you are nott, let’s go!” blaise continued also throwing his arm around your shoulder and leading you away from the boys dorm.

“what? no, i have plans with draco. now excuse me” you said pushing them both off and heading towards dracos door.

as you get closer to his door you can hear heavy breathing, pants and skin slapping on skin. you’re confused, you figured draco would be taking a nap or running over drills for quidditch practice. the closer you get, the louder the noises become.

“pans, you feel so good”

you recognize that voice anywhere.

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

quickly you turned your head towards blaise and theo who had their heads lowered in shame, refusing to meet your gaze. “is this some kind of sick joke, are you guys pulling a prank or something because this isn’t funny” you said seriously not wanting to believe what you’re hearing from inside of your boyfriends dorm.

“we’re sorry, we tried to convince him not too but he wouldn’t listen” theo muttered silently.

it felt like your world was breaking apart slowly. just not too long ago you were excited to spend a weekend with your boyfriend who you loved so dearly, the same boyfriend who you’ve been dating for years, the same boyfriend who gets jealous about how much time you spend with his mum rather than him.

with shaky fingers you put your hand on the door knob and quickly pushed the door open, already preparing for the worst.

there he was, wrapped up with parkinson in the same bed you two shared not even twenty-four hours ago. her body straddling his naked, just like yours was doing the night before. you stood there frozen, mouth agape— not even knowing what to do with yourself.

“baby, i can explain, just please— y/n please don’t leave” draco said pushing pansy off of him, shuffling on his pants and reaching out towards you.

“dont touch me, malfoy!” you yelled and everyone froze. “you lost the right to touch me the minute you even thought of touching her” you continued sending both him and pansy a glare with tears threatening to slip from your eyes.

“darling please, i can explain—”

“no draco, we’re done just leave me alone, please” your voice cracking at the end as you pushed past blaise and theo rushing towards the girls dormitory.

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

it’s been days since you last left your room, days since you last saw draco. daphne would come by and check on you but you’d always dismiss her, wanting to be alone. regret is one word to describe how you’ve been feeling— you gave him everything and he threw it away so carelessly for a quick hook up.

you missed waking up against his smooth skin in his embrace, tracing the lines and scars across his porcelain skin as you waited for him to wake up, the way he’d try to kiss you in the morning without brushing his teeth and you wouldn’t let him because of morning breath— but he’d still do it anyways.

you missed him, but he didn’t want you anymore.

maybe it was something you’ve done, you’ve been quite busy with work recently so you haven’t been spending as much time with him as normal. he was probably lonely and trying to seek the attention you lacked to give him.

getting up, you stared at yourself in the mirror picking yourself apart. you were pretty, it was a well known fact around hogwarts, maybe he thought she was prettier. she was the life of the party and always up for some mischief whereas you preferred to do stuff in silence and would rather be with a small group of people. maybe he liked how exciting she was in comparison to you, she probably brought a spark of excitement to his life that you couldn’t.

dreading to feel something you quickly showered and got ready to leave your room hoping to run into a specific set of twins.

Pick up daddies at the playground

How I spend my daytime

Loosen up the frown,

Make them feel alive

I'll make it fast and greasy

I'm on my way to easy

“well what can we do for you today” fred said to you with a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

“do you have any muggle herb left?” you asked in a low voice making sure no one heard you.

“maybe we do, maybe we don’t” george said. “how much are you offering in exchange though” he continued.

“ten galleons for three ounces, is that enough” you said pulling the galleons out of your pockets and placing them in george’s palm.

“it was a pleasure doing business with you” they said in unison as fred placed the tiny baggie in your pocket so no one would see.

once you returned to your dormitory you quickly pulled out the pre-rolled muggle herb, lit it and let yourself forget.

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

Spend my days locked in a haze

Trying to forget you babe

I fall back down

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

you started showing up to class late with red tired eyes, not caring about the looks you got. at this point every one knew what had happened but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

the muggle herb brought you a sense of bliss and freedom, a new feeling you haven’t felt before but something that you now craved.

“are you high right now?” draco said as he sat himself in the seat beside you.

“since when do you care about what i’m doing” you said sharply, not wanting to talk with him.

“love, you don’t smoke. who gave that stuff to you, i’ll kill them—”

“no you won’t.” you said turning towards him. “you won’t do any of that because you don’t own me and i’m not your girlfriend anymore. so mind your business malfoy, i’m sure parkinson’s waiting for you”

the rest of the class you both sat in silence working on potions that draco did most of since you weren’t in the correct mind state and he wasn’t willing to let his mark falter over your slip up.

you find it amazing how even when you’re on drugs he still looks amazing. the way his nose curves perfectly with a slight bump, and the way his hands move with caution as he pours the potion into the waste bucket.

“look, i’m sorry for what happened with pansy. it didn’t mean anything i swear, i don’t know why i did it but i regret it with my life” draco said breaking your thoughts, he looked older than normal and had dark circles underneath his under eyes. you wondered why he looked so distraught when he wasn’t the one who got cheated on.

“a sorry isn’t going to fix this draco” you told him. he knew you were right but he didn’t want to admit it. he hadn’t talked to pansy since the day you walked in on them, the guilt has been eating him up inside. he stayed silent and didn’t bother respond to you, he knew anything he said would have made the situation worst than it already is— but how he wished you were still his sweet y/n.

“now if you excuse me, i have some fun to attend too” you said leaving him alone as you made your way back to your dorm.

Staying in my play pretend

Where the fun, it got no end

Can't go home alone again

Need someone to numb the pain

You're gone and I gotta stay

High all the time

To keep you off my mind

over the last few weeks, you couldn’t remember the last time you were sober. you started skipping classes to smoke and avoiding your friends so they’d stop questioning your habits.

you were forgetting and that’s all that mattered, you didn’t care how it was affecting your health— it made you feel better. sometimes you wished there was another way, another way to forget how he held you at night pressing soft kisses to your skin, another way to forget the way he took pansy the same way he took you. you wonder if he feels as sorry as he looks, he’s the one who cheated so he can’t possibly care that much.

you hear two knocks at your door which quickly break you from your state making you more attentive, cleaning yourself up and opening the door. there stood draco— his eyes red as well, like hes been crying.

“y/n listen, i know what i did was wrong and that i tried to pretend it wasn’t me but please. i didn’t mean too, you mean the world to me. i miss you so much love.” he pleaded with you.

“y’know draco, i miss you too” you admitted. “but i’ve found a way to forget about you, maybe you should do the same”.

Gotta stay high all my life

To forget I'm missing you

taglist: @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @ilygw @nic0lodean @s1ater @henqtic @justreadingficsdontmindme @i-love-scott-mccall @harmqnia @gwlvr @alishahpotter

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy smut #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco malfoy angst #harry potter #draco lucius malfoy

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missgeniality · 4 years ago

Text

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this! This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy!

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods.

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning.

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold.

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity.

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully.

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.”

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?”

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation.

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?”

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious.

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well.

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight?

BTS is on your flight?

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography.

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger.

BTS who?

Biggest boyband who?

You only listen to Frank Sinatra.

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally.

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours.

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help.

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved.

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could.

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back.

Aw, you are in trouble.

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face.

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true.

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth.

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you.

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you.

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to.

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all.

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile.

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously.

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean.

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.”

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..”

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in.

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb.

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.”

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told.

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep.

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began.

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you.

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you.

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you.

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family.

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen.

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request.

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement.

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.”

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck.

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart.

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him.

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon.

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.”

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence.

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car.

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you.

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that.

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of.

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far.

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode.

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma.

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this.

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong.

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do.

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall.

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!"

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!”

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor.

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so.

But you’re not anyone else.

He isn’t just anyone.

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two.

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours.

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century.

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind.

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours.

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation.

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end.

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark.

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.”

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible.

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken.

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him.

The elevator door opens, and people walk out.

But that’s not where your attention is.

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm.

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad.

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present.

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.”

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.”

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile.

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too.

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space.

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!”

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed.

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again.

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.”

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”.

The punctuation was not vocalized.

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself.

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there?

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna.

So far, no sign of him.

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far.

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode.

And then you hear it.

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but.

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck.

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight.

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight.

“Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement.

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is.

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart.

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.”

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first.

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own.

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes. “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.”

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter.

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?”

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight.

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger.

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware.

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer.

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue.

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch.

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates.

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?”

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air.

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative.

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?”

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress.

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured.

“On your knees.” he commands.

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.”

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on.

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm.

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head.

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise.

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly.

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him.

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him.

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.”

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over.

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench.

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening.

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod.

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum.

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you.

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him.

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss.

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair.

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt.

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room.

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom.

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you.

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention.

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought.

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret.

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch.

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth.

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way.

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face.

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs.

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem.

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-”

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him.

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason.

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard.

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him.

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making.

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls.

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat.

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it.

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response.

“Go on baby, ride me.”

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better.

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!”

“That’s fucking right, only me.”

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away.

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve.

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full.

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high.

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face.

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!”

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.”

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way.

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole.

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs.

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core.

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours.

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.”

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon.

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart.

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.”

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness.

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy.

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance.

He finds none.

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go.

You inch closer.

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his.

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win.

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words.

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst.

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it.

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows. You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him.

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far.

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up.

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement.

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

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scott-mccall-the-hot-girl · 3 years ago

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my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!

( as a new teen wolf stan )

the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!

Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.

Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)

okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies

Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim

Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.

Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)

Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!

Artificial Love - songbvrd

Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.

Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)

so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!

The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR

Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”

Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.

Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)

me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*

Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape

Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”

Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”

Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.

okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical

Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.

(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)

Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )

so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite

Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.

Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.

Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )

okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!

two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!

for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!

whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )

go check out:

eneiryu

as well as fallingforboys

here are some of my favorite fics by them ~

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys

even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys

memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys

skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys

i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys

whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys

between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu

cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu

okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore

my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene

it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…

Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach

Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.

Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.

Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )

#this took me so long #please go read these or i’ll cry #fan fiction #fan fic recs #teen wolf fic recs #thiam fanfiction #thiam fic recs #thiam #theo raeken #liam dunbar #theo x liam #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf gay #teen wolf #ao3 #fuck you fuck this & fuck it #thiam fanfic rec #thiam fanfic #thiam is endgame

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago

Text

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader)

I can explain.

Please don't come at me for starting a new project before finishing Cult Girl Doctorate. I hit a wall and needed to take a break. I am trying not to let this one take up too much time.

Y/n is a sorceress-in-training who’s known for being hard to teach. Sensing her potential, Doctor Strange takes her on as an apprentice.

You firmly believed that shattering the urn of Fei-Amie was the best thing that ever happened to you.

It happened a year ago, but it still replayed in your head over and over again. You made a conscious effort to remember it vividly.

Sure, it was terrifying, Stephen Strange's initial look of anger when he heard the ceramic shatter. It softened when he saw that the culprit was just a clumsy sorceress-in-training who looked on the verge of tears with remorse. Still, it was a face you never wanted to see again: his teeth bared, his already sharp features accentuated under the constraints of anger.

It diluted into silent, simmering frustration that revealed itself to you in short sarcastic jabs and body language.

"Just, stop." He cut you off after a string of profuse sorries. With no disarming smile in sight, you could tell he was tense. "Artifacts get broken all the time. Don't cry. It was an accident."

His tone indicated that he was trying to convince himself more than he was you. You were a closed-off person and could hardly stand the idea that anyone out there didn't like you. The idea of the Sorcerer Supreme being mad at you, personally, made you briefly consider ritual suicide. You lowered your head. "Yes, Master Strange."

"Hey, butterfingers." He called out after you as you tried to make a painless exit. You looked back at him and he gestured to the pile of broken ceramic pieces. "You gonna fix what you broke?"

It hadn't dawned on you that an ancient relic could be fixed. Especially one that once contained the ashes of the ancient necromancer Fei-Amie. You were embarrassed to say that your knowledge of manipulating time was surface-level at best, and couldn't think of any other solution.

You wordlessly gathered the pieces up in your skirt and carried them off, striking out any plans to go into town that evening. Instead, you poured through book after book for any instruction whatsoever on repairing broken artifacts. You ran out of desk space, so books were just floating in the air, suspended on pages that briefly mentioned relic breakage.

You started to believe you were given an impossible task. Or perhaps all the resources you needed, he was withholding. Even so, you didn't want to go back to him empty-handed. You changed into your street clothes and opened a portal to the local craft store.

You returned with two types of extra-strong superglue and got to work. First, you made all the pieces come together and had them hover over the desk. Unconsciously, you began to sing as you pieced the urn back together.

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels

Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles

Brown paper packages tied up with strings

These are a few of my favorite things

"Haven't heard that song in years."

You dropped the tube of glue and the few remaining pieces fell back to the desk. "Master Strange!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He said, though his apology was undercut by his smug tone. "Carry on."

You picked up a piece and began to line the edges with glue.

"Aren't you going to finish the song?"

You looked up to see that he hadn't been just passing by. He was leaning against the threshold, watching you.

"I don't usually sing for an audience." You laughed, uncomfortably. "Just me."

"A man and his sentient cape should not count as an audience," he scoffed. "But, if you insist, I guess I'll have to just listen to Julie Andrews instead."

"What's wrong with her?" You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh, nothing. She's a treasure." He put his hands up. "But everyone gets to hear her sing. And I take it that only a very select few get to hear your rendition of my favorite things. I just have to be one of them."

You blushed, suddenly forgetting all the words to my favorite things.

"Girls in white dresses..." he offered, an impatient edge to it.

You swallowed. "Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes. Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes-"

"Hey, butterfingers." He interrupted again. Before you could object, he pointed to the way that the pieces floated gracefully overhead at the sound of your voice.

"I'd like to see Julie Andrews do that." He said with a wink.

"Looks alright," Master Strange said, running his finger along the tight seams that showed where cracks once were.

"Will it still work?" You asked. That was really all you were worried about.

"Beats the hell out of me." He shrugged. "I didn't know how to use it to begin with."

"What?!" You spat back. "Are you kidding?"

"I'm afraid not." He said, taking the urn and placing it back on its pedestal. "Don't worry, you did a good job. I'm not mad at you anymore."

That was really all you needed to hear. "Thank you, sir."

"You're an apprentice, right?" He asked.

"I'm..." Your voice trailed off in embarrassment. "Between masters right now."

He raised an eyebrow. "If I were to ask around, would I receive glowing reviews from your last masters?"

You admitted it point-blank. "No."

"Let me guess," he folded his arms. "Something didn't make sense to you and instead of giving you the space to question it, they insisted you follow blindly."

You wanted to throw your head back and shout in relief; finally, someone understood!

"Bingo, bullseye." You put your hands up in surrender after being read so easily. "Right on the money."

"I see." He said, tucking that thought away for later. "Could I trouble you for one more odd job before you go?"

"That depends." You folded your arms. "What is it?"

He looked over his shoulder at his cape. "How are you with sewing?"

‘Sewing' was not the verb you would use to describe repairing the tears in the Cloak of Levitation. It was taller and stronger than you and it did not want to be repaired. It was closer to performing surgery on a fully grown mountain lion that could rip your head off at any minute.

"Like putting eyeshadow on a cat," Master Strange said. It flicked its edge contemptuously, while still clinging to his shoulders for dear life. "I'm a licensed surgeon and it won't let me within 20 feet of it with a needle."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." You said, thoroughly discouraged. All he'd given you to work with was a spool of thread and a pack of needles.

He tried with sincere force to remove the cloak, but it wouldn't budge. "Of course, now it knows you're coming at it with the sewing kit and it won't leave my shoulders."

"Maybe I can work with that?" You shrugged. You threaded the needle and hid it in your hand.

You approached the cloak, only for it to shove Master Strange in your way like a human shield.

"Listen, you naughty little blanket." He scolded, turning around to face it as if it were a puppy that had just wrecked the living room. "If you don't let her fix you, you're going in the washing machine. Extra spin."

It shuddered, and, for a moment, you thought it was going to comply. You slowly took a step forward, only for it to dart as soon as your foot hit the ground. It made its escape with a large crash through the heavy wooden doors of the library.

"Hey!" You shouted, chasing after it. "Get back here!"

You caught a glimpse of it headed towards the relic room, so, without thinking, you opened a portal to make it there first. You reached it only seconds before the cloak breached the threshold, with only enough time to grab it by the edge.

"Come here!" You exclaimed, giving it a full force tug. It tugged back, overpowering you to the tenth degree. It dragged you across the room and into the foyer. You yanked on it, only for it to escape from your grip and send you flying back into the wall. You wondered for a second how such a sturdy piece of fabric could possibly be in need of maintenance.

"Bastard." You mumbled, rubbing the spot where your head collided with the wall. The pain didn't stop you, though. You were on your feet within seconds, pursuing the naughty blanket all over again.

You heard the words of one of your many, many masters ringing in your ears; "never outrun what you can outsmart". Or maybe that was from a Garfield comic. Either way, whether or not you could outsmart the cloak was still unknown, but you had to at least try.

You took a second to catch your breath and tried to remember where you saw it heading next. Downstairs, you thought. To the laundry room. The one place you would never look.

You slowly but deliberately descended the stairs to the basement where the laundry was. You turned the light on and saw overturned baskets of towels, clothes, and sheets everywhere. And then a washing machine door slammed shut. You turned your head and saw a twinge of dark red hiding in the washing machine.

You removed your shoes and socks to minimize noise, then picked up a fitted sheet that had been thrown on the ground. You mounted the washing machine and affixed the sheet to the front. The cloak would have to come shooting out the door, and you would ambush it.

You forced the door open with your heel, holding the sheet like a giant net. As predicted, the cloak shot out like a bullet from a gun, getting caught in the sheet. It thrashed around aimlessly, trying to escape, but you had a tight grip and it wasn't going anywhere.

"It's curtains for you!" You said, then laughed at your own joke. "Stop struggling!"

It flailed and fought, but eventually ran out of energy and sunk to the ground. Not trusting it quite yet, you pinned it down with your whole body weight before releasing it from the sheet. As expected, it tried to fly away, but couldn't get anywhere.

"The less you fight, the faster this will go." You said, examining the fabric for any visible tears. The rip presented itself right away. About as long as your hand, right in the center.

"What did Strange do to you?" You asked, pulling the threaded needle from your pocket. "Hold still, I'm going to fix it."

Once the needle hit fabric, the cloak stopped trying to fly away and instead writhed about on the floor like it was about to die. You fixed the tear with as many stitches as you could make, then pulled it shut. Once you knew the thread was secure, you rolled off the cloak and let it fly free.

It shot up, but froze, noticing something was different. It swished itself around, unaccustomed to the feeling of air not blowing right through its center.

"You're welcome." You said with a shrug. "It's not like I had to chase you all around the sanctum to make it happen."

Without any warning, the cloak scooped you up and squeezed you. Your initial reaction was that this was its revenge and you were taking your final breaths, but you could tell it was gratitude by the way it gently set you down on the ground.

"Happy to help." You gasped for air. "Just remember this feeling if I ever have to do this again."

"Not bad, butterfingers." Master Strange told you, though the tone of his voice conveyed he was impressed beyond a simple 'not bad'.

"Not bad?" You protested. "I absolutely crushed it."

He ran his finger down the uneven but sturdy stitching. When his face met yours again, he was smiling with genuine enthusiasm that managed to eek through his dry, sarcastic exterior. It came out as an admittedly very handsome sideways smirk as his eyes scanned you up and down.

“If you don’t need anything else, I’ll get out of your hair now.” You said, heading towards the open doors.

“Wait.” The doors slammed shut before you could reach them. You turned around to see Master Strange still examining the stitching. "You wouldn't leave without tea, would you?"

A pot of chai tea sat between you, filling the air with an aroma of spicy vanilla. You held the teacup in both hands, determined to never give him a reason to reinforce the "butterfingers" nickname he'd become so fond of.

"Chai is my favorite." You said, letting the scent waft into your nose. "Yerba mate used to be my favorite, but if I drink more than two pots of it I get sick."

"Yeah, definitely don't do that." He chuckled, bobbing his teabag up and down in the cup. "Out of curiosity, are you wondering at all why I invited you to tea?"

"Oh, definitely." You nodded. "I was just wondering about that."

"Would you believe it's just because I find you interesting?" He raised an eyebrow. "Good company, perhaps?"

"Interesting? Absolutely." You agreed. "Good company is debatable."

"I can't believe I never thought to trap the cloak in the washing machine." He rested his chin in his hand. "It seems so obvious now."

"If it makes you feel any better," you shrugged. "It was mostly dumb luck and reckless disregard for my own life, considering it almost threw me off the balcony.”

He glared at the cloak. “What did I tell you about trying to kill our guests?”

It lowered its collar shamefully in his direction.

“Don’t apologize to me!” He scolded. “Apologize to her.”

It turned to face you and repeated the somber motion.

“It’s okay.” You shrugged. “My family adopted a retired army German Shepherd growing up. I’m used to high-strung creatures that could end my life at any second.”

“Well, rest assured, butterfingers,” He said, leaning back in his chair. “This will never happen again.”

“I, uh-” You opened your mouth before you could even really pick up on the implication he was putting down. “Wasn’t aware that there would be a chance for it to happen again?”

“I suppose we should get down to brass tax, then.” He folded his hands in his lap. “How would you like to stay here?”

“Well-” You said, not wanting to come off as too enthusiastic, which you certainly were. “Not if it’s going to kill me-”

“If I could promise you that your life won’t be in constant danger, I would.” He cut you off. “But if you wanted safety, you wouldn’t have started studying the Mystic Arts.”

“Got me there.” You conceded, your made-up objection withering away. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He shook his head. “I’ll help you train and in return, you help me preserve the integrity of the sanctum.”

“So an apprenticeship?” Your eyes widened. "Are you saying you want to take me on as an apprentice?"

“I know you’ve got bad associations with that title, but yes.” He answered. “If it brings back memories of your previous masters treating you like garbage, we can call it a ‘partnership’, if you’d like.”

Partners with the Sorcerer Supreme? You thought, butterflies materializing in your stomach.

"That sounds great, but-" You broke eye contact and fidgeted with your fingers. "I feel like I should disclose that it wasn't really all that one-sided. I am… notoriously hard to teach."

"And who told you that?" He tilted his head. "The ones who refused to teach you?"

You hadn't thought about it that way. "I guess."

"The way I see it, you've repaid your debt and are free to leave," he began. "But seeing how dutifully you reassembled that urn, wrangled my favorite piece of defiant outerwear, and how desperately this place is in need of some life, it might be a good idea to keep you around."

You put your hand over your chest to still your heart. "It would be an honor."

"Excellent." He nodded. "That saves me the trouble of having to convince you."

He brought you to a small but comfortable room with a bed and connected bathroom.

"There's plenty of closet space for all your clothes." He said, gesturing to an antique looking bureau set.

You dumped your duffel bag out on the bed, revealing the extent of your possessions. "Thanks, but this is all I've got."

"Travel light, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah, I moved around a lot growing up." You admitted. "Got no real roots and all that jazz."

"That changes now." He told you. "This is your home now so I want it to feel like it. Make the space your own."

“I don’t know how I can thank you for this.” You lowered your head, still feeling undeserving.

“Don’t thank me yet, butterfingers.” He chuckled. “I’ve been told I tend to be a little on the egotistical side. That I don’t work well with others.”

"It's actually [F/N], if you were curious." You said, sitting on the bed and folding your hands in your lap.

"Okay, [F/N]." he smiled. "You've been in and out of enough apprenticeships to know the drill. Early mornings, late nights. And I've got a laundry list of odd jobs for you that I'm too important to do."

"Naturally." You nodded. His dry self-awareness inspired a little confidence that he wouldn't be a complete tyrant.

"You did a good job today." He said, bluntly. "Thank you for your help. Keep it up and you'll make an invaluable addition to the sanctum."

You smiled downwards. "Thank you."

"Do you often sing when you're trying to focus?" He posited. "Just, as an aside."

You could tell the gears in his neurosurgeon's head were turning, undoubtedly trying to pin some kind of diagnosis on you as doctors were known to do.

“I guess it’s just a force of habit.” You admitted. “I used to play piano, so when I’m working with my hands, it just kind of happens. My last master was not happy about that.”

"Oh, screw him." He waved his hand dismissively. "He pissed away an opportunity to nurture a sorceress with a special gift for the sake of tradition. That's a mistake I won't make."

Special gift? You thought. Nobody who practiced the Mystic Arts had ever referred to anything you'd ever done as a 'gift'. Annoyance? sure. A symptom of ADHD? All the time. But 'gift'? That made it sound useful.

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange #doctor stephen strange #what if #what if marvel #doctor strange supreme

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yourmcu · 4 years ago

Text

Birthday

Pairings: The Avengers x reader

Summary:

It’s your birthday and the team gets creative on how to surprise you, putting their acting skills to the test.

Word count: 2,350

A/n: just a little something because,, well,, it’s my birthday *runs away* also it’s cheesy, hopefully it makes sense lmao

Warnings: uhhh brief mention of explosion? mostly fluff

The Avengers wanted to get creative for your birthday this year. For the few years they've known you they picked up on things about you. One, you paid no mind to your birthday at all and just considered it a normal day like the rest of the 365, Tony took note that you hated parties, at least the really big ones, something that involved only the team would be good.

Okay, you sound like a party pooper, but that isn't the case; it's not a crime to just... not want to have a grand celebration, right? And people singing the 'happy birthday' song to you too while you just sit there in silence. It's awkward, you once told Natasha. It’s also awkward and hard for you to receive presents even though that’s what birthdays are all about, you’re still getting used to it since you knew someone like Tony Stark.

Well, the team think you're an amazing friend and they all treat you like family. They're so glad they met someone like you.

You're immediately called to the conference room on that day. Only to find the team arguing and pointing fingers at one another.

You kinda just slot in, sitting on the chair you usually sit on whenever there's a meeting or mission briefing. Glancing around, you try and find out what they're fighting about.

Security. Suits. Brief mention of Ultron. Rhodey busying himself with phones, probably making a lot of calls. Natasha and Clint talking among themselves, only raising their voice whenever they're included in the conversation which mainly consisted of Tony and Steve arguing.

"Suit up, get the jet ready." Steve dismisses but before he could walk out himself you raise your hand.

"Hey, sorry, I just woke up," you say sheepishly but coolly at the same time. "What happened, is everyone supposed to go? Can I read the file?" Because if this is an Avengers-level threat that required everyone, you'd want to know all about it.

His sharp and expression softens slightly when he looks at you. "No file, I'm afraid. Some of the compound's security protocols have been compromised, someone hacked in." He proceeds to tell you how they particularly had interest in Bruce and Tony's lab so the other rooms were untouched.

Apparently, they took blueprints and materials, maybe a handful of Tony's suits.

But if you think about it, those two carelessly letting the security to their lab loose? Highly unlikely...

You push the thought to the back of your mind and nod when Steve tells you to get ready. Stark tech can be dangerous in the wrong hands, after all. Let alone the Iron Man suits.

Fortunately, those things have trackers. Leaving you to wonder again why those idiots don't even try and take them off so they won't tracked?

Sat on the floor of the jet while everyone was strangely quiet but once again you didn't pay any mind, you sharpen a few of your knives. Natasha sat on a stool near you, idly picking her nails. An hour into the flight you furrow your brows and look around.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yes," Tony states quickly and a matter-of-factly. They all share glances before he continued. "It's the tension. Sorry. My fault."

"It's not your fault, Tony," Bruce starts.

"I'm sorry, to whom were those stolen suits again?" Steve speaks up as well and you could tell it's gonna be a full blown argument again.

"Now hold on just a second-" Tony faces the super soldier to counter.

You merely blink, not expecting a simple question to turn out like this. Clint just glances from the pilot's seat and Natasha almost cracks a smile by the look of your face. If only you knew it was all fake, all planned. But what does she know? You're a spy too, maybe you've figured out what they're up to and decided to play along.

Sad to say you're still oblivious. Maybe the fact that you only slept three hours last night is one case. You wanted nothing more than your bed right now.

Heck, not one of them wished you a happy birthday but you didn't notice at all.

Tuning out their bickering you sit down next to Natasha who's the only one not in the argument.

"I haven't seen Wanda all day," you say and she turns her head to face you. "Or Sam, or Bucky."

"Probably not back from their mission." Natasha answers promptly.

You frown at that. "Steve made this sound like an Avengers-level threat, and it is, shouldn't they be here?"

You don't wait for a response, opening up a globe-shaped hologram that shows where the jet, represented by a blinking dot. Your eyes slightly widen when you see the target location which is one of the places you've been dying to visit your whole life.

Maybe it's just a coincidence. You definitely didn't expect to visit it for the first time on a mission though.

Natasha clears her throat. "Hey, have you read the book I gave you?" She subtly closes the globe up when she catches your attention.

You shake your head bashfully. "You know I'm a slow reader. Give me two months then I'll come back to you." You laugh. Natasha smiles and tells you to take your time. "Have you read the book I gave you?"

"I loved it."

"I knew you would!" You say excitedly and the next few moments you discuss about the specific book. She's just glad you didn't ask any further questions about the location.

All of you split up once you reach the base but Rhodey and Bruce stay in the jet as backup. The place reminded you so much of the old Avengers tower, only with darker themes. You're paired with Clint who you follow to the side of the building, with surprisingly no cautiousness. He just... ran in, entrance deserted of guards.

You all had a digital, tech checklist to see what was stolen including all the suit names. So far you've searched two drawers now and still no sign of any agent or guard. But it's weird since the others are clearly doing their part on their floors. Thuds, footsteps and sometimes banging sounds could be heard all around.

“Finally," you mutter when you hear footsteps behind you, spinning around so suddenly to surprise your enemy and take him down with ease. You raise an eyebrow when they don't put up a fight at all.

Clint was in front of a computer when you peek in to one of the rooms but he waves you off. "I'll meet you on the next floor. This'll take a second."

"One suit on the roof!" you hear Steve grunt through your earpiece.

"Remember to remove the arc reactor, that'll shut them down for sure." Bruce reminds through everyone's comms.

You hear Tony let out a noise. "Might have a problem with that, Banner, they're all reprogrammed."

Expecting the man with seven Ph. D's to worry, it only took him a minute to respond back. "It's your tech. I don't believe they could do that completely especially having them for only twelve hours."

"In that case," Tony sighs. "There should be a kill switch under one of their reactors."

"Which one?" Natasha grunts.

The deafening silence from Tony's line explains it.

You fight your way though the thugs which again, don't put up a fight. Sometimes you throw one punch and they're out cold, leading you to believe the intense training Bucky insisted you do worked. The only tough ones were the Iron Man suits themselves.

Ripping out the arc reactors wasn't easy. You had to use all you force. On the second one you encounter it got the upper hand and blasts you through a wall, the impact sending sharp pain to your head and back.

You hear metal thumping of a suit so you get back up and attempt to get your hands on the Iron Man in front of you.

"Hey, hey. Same team. Look," Tony grips on your wrists and lifts his mask up. "You alright?"

“Yeah," you pant, relaxing a bit. "Yeah. One of them got m-"

"We just discovered a bomb, northwest," Clint says. By ‘we’ he means him and Natasha. The redhead speaks right after. “Two and a half minutes. How many suits left, Friday?”

"Only one more suit is fully functional."

You get out of Tony's hold and sprint up the stairs. "I got it."

He smiles to himself. The plan is all coming to place.

As soon as you enter the room you dodge a blast from the much bulkier Mark XVI. Of course they'd want to make the stealth suit more powerful. You launch yourself towards it, stomping on an arm while trying to dodge blasts from the the other one.

"Y/N! Fifty seconds!" Steve shouts in your earpiece.

You could've just jumped out, leaving the compromised suits here to be blown up but being under pressure made you panic and set your only goal to find the switch.

The suit could still set off a blast from the arc reactor so you couldn't really get your hands on it without losing a freaking arm.

"Get out of there!”

But you didn’t have enough time. So you just curl into a ball against the wall, accepting your fate.

A pop did go off. Loud, but you didn't feel yourself torn into pieces right after. You also heard a bunch of aye’s and oh’s. Redwing whirs by to your head to drop off a birthday hat.

"Happy Birthday!”

Your eyes fly open. Turns out the only thing inside Mark XVI was confetti. Natasha walks over to you to inspect and make sure you're alright.

"What the hell?" Your eyes widen at her, then at everyone. Sam and Bucky were now standing with them, smiling at you amused.

"I think she's in shock.”

“You think?”

Steve glares at Tony with a hint of amusement. "I told you it would be too much."

"Trust me she prefers something like this instead of a big party. Don't you, Y/N?"

"What do you mean?" You take off the hat and clutch it between your hands, appreciating Natasha rubbing your back as you try to collect yourself. "How is none of this real?"

"We basically faked a mission for you." Rhodey says.

You look around all the rubble. "This building, the people, suits-"

"Bought the place," Tony states. "Hired stuntmen, did a few tweaks on the suits...”

"God, why would you do that?" You bury your face in your hands, not knowing if you should be laughing or crying. "I punched those guys!"

"They'll be fine, they signed up for it."

You gently get up and brush off some confetti off your knees.

"But back at the compound... you guys were yelling at each other and during the whole thing you all sounded serious," you point out. "Was that all part of the act?"

Especially when that 'bomb' was about to go off. Steve's panicked voice made you scared for your life, only to know that it was all fake.

They all show signs of agreement, laughing.

"We'd make such great actors." Natasha smirks.

"Alright, the cake isn't going to blow itself." Clint walks up to you with said cake and you meet him halfway.

Everyone gathers around and before they could inhale to sing the stupid song, you cut them off. "You all know I hate to be sung at. Can we just get this over with?"

They all burst out laughing, you giggle in the process, blowing out your candle. You all group hug right after. The laughter makes you miss the sound of faint thunder outside.

"Look who's late." Bruce points out.

"Yes, I got here as soon as I can, my apologies." Thor smiles sheepishly.

Your ears perk up at the all too familiar voice of the god of thunder. Moving everyone of the way, you leap to hug him. "Thor!"

"Happy birthday, dearest Y/N." He grins and pats you on the head. "I'm afraid my - I mean - our gift, is with Loki at the moment."

"Enough with the formality, I’m just glad you’re here.”

Peter rings up Tony to tell him everything's set up at the huge building they rented for your low-key party. Just the Avengers. Peter, Vision and Wanda were in charge of setting things up over there, from decorations and food. Sam and Bucky also helped a bit before they arrived at the fake base.

So you all get into the jet again, this time you look at the windows in awe to see what the city's like. You also asked a bunch of questions on how they pulled something stupid but unique fake mission like that.

Once you've reached your destination, the place was simple yet big enough to fit everyone. Tony really took notes for this year. You didn't like anything too fancy or elegant, and you didn't like huge-ass parties with hundreds of people you've never met before.

Here you're with your family eating, drinking booze and playing games, generally having a good time.

You give the other five Avengers big hugs. Vision's never usually a hugger but for you he made an exception just for today. Everyone was surprised when he lifted you off your feet and spun you around.

"Hugging has a lot of good benefits," Vision says when he lets you go. "Astounding, I know. It is recommended eight times a day, hopefully you've already gotten that much."

You giggle at his remark and Wanda rolls her eyes playfully. “Thank you, Vision.”

“Splendid, that means I don’t have to give you one.”

You turn around to see the god of mischief himself carefully hand you a wrapped box. Loki chuckles when you smile at him. “Happiest Birthday.”

“Loki.... you know you and Thor didn’t have to-”

“Thor? That one’s from me. I assure you.”

“Y/N!” You hear Tony call from the other side of the room. “It’s time for presents, little miss. Good lord this looks like Christmas morning.”

unfortunatley i am that extra to post a birthday fic woo hoo

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ialwaysknewyouwerepunk · 3 years ago

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ever since new york - a close reading

hs1, track 8

intro post - overview

here is that first post i did ages ago, which is fine as a very superficial reading, but this is the full-on deep dive that i should have granted this song from the start <3

LYRIC ANALYSIS

Tell me something, tell me something You don't know nothing, just pretend you do I need something, tell me something new

the other, "you", is the one who needs to relieve harry - harry is done looking for answers

give me anything, anything at all, even if it's pretend and not something i've heard a million times

Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote For this curse. Oh, what's it waiting for? Must this hurt you just before you go?

"choose your words": bc you might offend me? bc pls don't get my hopes up?

no antidote for what? what's the curse?

"what's it waiting for": does harry want it to hurry up? why? - seems more like something you'd say while waiting for something to hit yourself, not someone else -> the curse will hit harry

impatience, just get it over with

"must this hurt you just before you go": was "you" already certainly going? passing away? or leaving? is the thing hurting "you" something separate from what's making them go or not?

Oh, tell me something I don't already know

Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news

specific location, is the story specific to nyc? what happened in ny? or is the memory just linked to that place?

There's no water inside this swimming pool

the key to harry's universe is water

~ "two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty"

comfort, answers in/around water: mvs for golden, falling, lights up, adore you, sott. now there is no water, no way for him/his emotions to escape or even find answers

Almost over, had enough from you And I've been praying, I never did before Understand I'm talking to the walls I've been praying ever since New York

almost self-indulgent in his sadness -> sad for something that happened to him? not "you"?

"had enough from you": who says that about someone who's passing away? -> could be, but very bitter

or "you" is multiple people in this song

"understand I'm talking to the walls":

praying feels like talking to the walls: doesn't believe it'll do anything

nothing he can say or do will change anything, despite his pleas

nobody is listening to him

he's alone, lonely

something changed for good while he was in ny

Tell me something, tell me something You don't know nothing, just pretend you do Tell me something just before you go

"you" has the right words to say to h. no matter how true they are, h needs "you" to soothe him

could be that religious aspect again: tell me i'll see you again, tell me we'll be alright - and now i'm getting deep into it

SYNTHESIS

Alright, so. This song is an enigma that I'll never crack, and that's okay. It's about something deeply painful and personal to Harry, which is exactly why it's impossible to figure out. This one is for Harry, so he has a way to sing about his pain while still keeping the story to himself. Here are some of my thoughts, but feel free to throw them out of the window if they don't make sense to you.

My initial analysis zoomed in on the story that it was about Harry's grief about his stepfather's battle with cancer. I didn't leave any other options open, which doesn't do the song justice, because there are so many other ways to hear the song. This particular interpretation still makes sense, but not on its own. I think, just like any other meaningful Harry song, it's a web of emotions and things that cause him pain all connecting in the middle to create this work of art.

Reading the lyrics now, I see Harry as someone who is in pain, but also impatient, desperate but in the know that he is helpless, with that bit of anger in there, too, that is found all over HS1. Despite "you" going and also hurting, Harry is focused on his own suffering, loneliness and inability to find any answers. It's "you" who needs to give him the answers, to tell him something. The prayers, there, might actually be a red line in the song. Harry has never prayed, and doesn't believe it'll do anything for him, as he feels like no one is listening, but "you" might be able to offer some words that soothe his mind. Like a prayer, about a prayer, or something else entirely.

This religious aspect, with the notion of the "curse" that doesn't have an "antidote" (which makes the gears in my head turn bc however incurable cancer may be at times, there have been many successful recoveries, too), points me in the direction of sexuality again. It can't be changed, and it's seen, by many, as a curse, or a burden, especially in Harry's position. He's been told shit over and over again about his life, how he should live it or change it; he's heard it all before. And now, in New York, Harry hears news that makes him reach a limit. Even reach out to religion, which usually he wouldn't do, because of his sexuality. He doesn't think it would help him, specifically because of the church's famous phobic stance on homosexuality. Also, the fact that ESNY follows Kiwi on the album, reinforces this idea for me. The anger he has for what others tell him to do, decide for him, things he has no say in (it's none of your business - talking to the walls), due to his sexuality that doesn't fit their norm, flows from Kiwi into Ever Since New York, where the anger dissipates a bit and he expresses his devastation. The melodic parallel with Badfinger's Baby Blue hits hard here, when you know about that band's history (struggles with label, s*icide). (here is a post by @bluewinnerangel that deals a lot more with that subject matter and it's fucking sad so be warned. don't read if you don't like to read about what i crossed out in those brackets before)

So, connecting all of this, I hear the song differently every time. What I do know is that it's first and foremost about Harry's grief about what's happening to him. In some ways I still imagine he's talking to his stepfather, who he asks for help and relief; something he often did before. Perhaps because he's passing, and Harry needs to know he'll see him again, despite his sexuality that's labeled as a curse. And he's sorry that, right before going, he has to see Harry go through so much shit, see Harry in pain. Of course, I also relate this song heavily to Don't Let It Break Your Heart by Louis. Especially the specific line "you left a part of you in New York", again pointing to that location and something life-changing happening there that caused a lot of sadness and pain. And that song deals with mental health issues, those that can feel like they come and go, but stay with you forever. The mention of the age 27, there, as well. Just. yeah.

Maybe, Harry's just talking to himself. Praying, talking to the walls. Looking deep in that mirror, as he so often does when looking for answers. He's had enough of himself.

In any case, this is a deeply sad song where Harry expresses that he's at a point where he sees no way out. Any hope he has, like praying, seems futile to him. He keeps doing it, though. He keeps praying, he keeps asking for someone to tell him anything. To offer him solace, to talk him out of it. A lot changed with this experience Harry went through, but he got through it. Thank fuck for that.

#ever since new york #esny #hs1 analyses #lyric analyses #my posts #second to last to drop :')#they grow up so fast #tw s*icide

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

The Perfect Fit | Bucky Barnes x reader (part 2)

(part 1)

summary: after getting fitted by you, bucky’s going to try on the custom-made suits he’s bought. unless he makes his move now, he may not get to see you again, and he can’t let that happen.

word count: 6.5k

warnings: smut!!, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), a little d/s energy, mirror kink, stomach bulge kink, slight pain kink?, creampie kink, pussy spanking, light bondage, bucky being jealous

Bucky had a bone to pick with Tony, which was usually true but this wasn’t work-related for once. It wasn’t hard to find him in the same place he’d seen him last— eating his lunch in the kitchen, with Sam nearby chowing down on lo mein with a spring roll.

“Hey lefty, what’s cracking?” Tony greeted, mouth full but talking loudly anyways.

"I went down to that tailor you recommended—" Bucky began, but Tony was quick to interrupt.

"You went there? Dude, it's a really nice place, you can just call and she'll come to you instead, way more convenient."

"So now you say 'she'?"

Realization dawned on Tony’s expression. "Ahh, I get it. You're not used to a female tailor. Adds a little spice to getting fitted, huh?" he grinned, elbowing Bucky playfully.

Bucky’s throat felt a little dry when he heard that. "Don't tell me that's why you use her…"

"Hey now, I'm not a creep, I use her cause she's the best, and those house calls are great for discretion— you know, being a celebrity and all. The eye candy part is just gravy."

"Gravy candy sounds disgusting," Sam chimed in, missing the point entirely.

"Yeah, well, she mentioned some stuff that sure made you sound like a creep."

"Okay, well, you can't blame me for getting caught staring when I'm surrounded by fucking mirrors. Makes it hard to be stealthy."

"You could try not staring,” Bucky suggested flatly.

"Is that what you did?"

Tony smirked when Bucky failed to reply immediately. "Okay, so it's easier said than done,” Bucky admitted with a frown, “but still, I hope these house calls were strictly professional."

“What’s it to you, man? I think somebody’s jealous,” Tony purred.

“What? No, it’s not that,” Bucky denied.

“You love her,” Tony sing-songed, completely ignoring Bucky. “You looooooove her!”

"You are so immature," Bucky rolled his eyes, even though his heart was racing and he was pretty sure he was blushing.

"No, it's good for you! She's a catch, you're all brooding and stuff— maybe she can melt the Winter Soldier's frozen heart, hm?"

Sam laughed heartily. "Stark, you read too many comic books."

"You're saying you don't wanna see Icy Hot here shoot his shot with my tailor?" Tony asked, turning his attention towards Sam.

Sam pondered that, much to Bucky's dismay. "Depends. How hot is she?"

"Mega," Tony smirked confidently. "Legs for miles, and she wears these skirts that make her ass look—"

"I think I've heard enough," Bucky groaned. "I'm leaving. And don't ask when I'm going to see her again," he instructed, interrupting Tony just as he'd opened his mouth to speak, "because I won’t tell you.”

As Bucky left, he could hear Tony calling out into the hall: “But I’d be such a great wingman!”

Truth be told, Bucky had put off mastering the use of his smartphone. It wasn’t just that new technology made him feel old, but that he knew nobody would be calling or messaging him anyways; if the phone didn’t work, he would spare himself the embarrassment of waiting up for nothing.

But once he knew you were going to call? Suddenly, he was motivated to figure the sucker out.

A few hours later and now all he had to do was stare at it to make sure he wouldn’t miss you. Luckily, you didn’t make him wait too long. He recognized the number and decided to let it ring a few times before picking up, so it would seem like he had other things to do besides talk to you.

“Hello?” Bucky asked when he answered, so it would seem like he had other people calling him besides you.

You introduced yourself so formally that he was a little afraid that all that fun energy between you two would be gone. Thankfully, once he asked what you were calling about, you were back to being cheery and casual again.

“I was just calling to schedule when I could come by with your new suits!” you explained, sounding chipper.

His fingertips were a little tingly just from hearing you talk, nervousness making him antsy (in a weirdly good way). “I know you said it’s a one-person operation,” he responded smarmily, “but I figured you would outsource delivery.”

You scoffed, though it sounded more amused than irritated. “It’s not just delivery, I have to check the fit and make sure everything’s exactly to your liking.”

“Oh, well, I’m free all day tomorrow— and I think you already know my address.” Was it too forward? Too obvious? And why did Bucky spend half the time when he was talking to you second-guessing himself?

“Yes, Stark Tower is a relatively common destination for me. If he doesn’t mind us using it, Tony has a dressing room with plenty of mirrors so you can get a good look. But, I’d be happy to just go up to your quarters if that’s easier.”

He was not at all ready for you to see his room. No way he could clean it enough in the next twelve hours; and even then, lots of the team had made fun of how empty and plain it was, so he knew it would just make you think he was boring.

“I’m sure Tony won’t mind you using his dressing room, but he might mind me using it,” Bucky chuckled.

“Well, if he makes a fuss I’ll be sure to set him straight,” you decided confidently. Somehow, imagining you cursing out Tony was almost hotter than imagining you doing anything else. “Be sure to bring down your dress shoes so you get the full look and everything.”

“Uhhh…” he trailed off as he scratched the back of his head, trying to remember if he owned anything other than combat boots. “Not sure I still have those, to be honest.”

"Okay, you'll need shoes too,” you noted aloud, your voice a little distant; he figured you were writing things down, which was why you sounded distracted. “What size are you?"

"Thirteen."

"I'll bring a selection tomorrow,” you announced firmly. “And socks, of course. And some watches, maybe? And pocket squares."

"Is that it?" he asked sarcastically.

“Oh right, I’m bringing the ties you picked out, too. I’ll throw in some alternates in case your original choices don’t match the way you were hoping.”

“You really are full-service,” he chuckled.

“I get that a lot,” you replied, a hint of coyness to your tone.

There it was again; that jealousy. He hated it because he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop it either. As much as his mind was completely aware that you were an independent, modern woman capable of handling herself, his heart was equally determined to protect you, and spoil you, and do whatever was necessary to make sure you were safe.

Worse, his gut was less innocent. Mine, it demanded, all mine. Nobody else’s.

He pushed it down and just tried to get through the rest of the call without saying something he’d regret. You confirmed the date and time with him, and he tried not to be too aggressive when he said he was looking forward to it.

He hung up his phone and sighed, staring off into space. Now all that was left to do was wait, and be overwhelmed with anxiety. Thankfully, he was good at the second thing.

"So, what do you think?"

I think you look so damn good from every angle. I think I might spend all my money on suits just to be sure I can see you again. I think you need somebody to love you the way you deserve. I think you’d look like an angel waking up in my bed.

You waved your hand in front of his face for a moment, calling his attention back to reality. “Helloooo?”

Drawn out of his trance, Bucky finally looked in the menagerie of mirrors surrounding him and admired his reflection, amazed by the perfect fit of his first suit. The difference in quality between this and something off the rack was beyond apparent. Most of all, your talent was undeniable. "I think it's beautiful."

You smiled proudly. "Of course it is, but do you like how you look in it?"

"Honestly? I feel a bit… out of place. I'm obviously not classy enough for a suit like this."

"Oh, nonsense," you dismissed.

He frowned, convinced this was all flattery. "No, seriously, this is… maybe I should just wear tactical gear to every event."

"Well, you'd still look good, but you're not always a soldier. Sometimes you're only a man. And every man should own a fine suit."

It was much too profound of a thing to say while you casually straightened his jacket, only to pop out from behind his reflection to smile at him in the mirror.

“Let’s get the next one on you,” you decided, helping him lose the jacket but having him move into a private dressing room to switch trousers and shirts. “I put a turtleneck in there instead of just a regular button-up,” you explained through the door as he changed, “in case you wanted to see it that way.”

Once he’d put it on, he stepped back out and you were looking at him so proudly— well, you were looking at your handiwork with pride, really, but he could pretend it was for him and hope actually impress you that much one day.

“I went with a shawl lapel on this one, as opposed to the last one which was notched,” you explained as you traced the line with your finger. “Spoiler: the next one has a peak lapel. But enough about that one: what do you think of this one?”

“This looks like something my friend Sam would wear,” Bucky decided as he looked at himself in the cranberry suit and black turtleneck. The shoes you’d had him try on with this were intricate as well, with subtle stitching in the leather and a shine so immaculate he could almost see a reflection in them.

“Well, is your friend Sam stylish?” you asked.

“He would certainly say so,” he smirked.

“I’m inclined to agree, because you—” you gave him a thorough glance up and down, so thorough in fact that he felt a bit exposed under your gaze, “—look marvelous.”

“Not pretentious?”

“No, no, it works on you,” you assured, “you’ve got the looks for it.”

“And what looks are those?”

“Um… good? Good looks?”

He definitely remembered a time when that seemed like the obvious answer, because he had relied on being good-looking for a lot of things in life, but that felt very far away now. Maybe it was just that people who didn’t know what he’d done could still think he was good looking, but everyone else saw the evil within beginning to leak out the way that he did.

But you knew what he’d done, didn’t you? You had to. You knew Tony, you were here at the Tower… unless you were intentionally not up-to-date on current events, you must have heard of the Winter Soldier.

“Don’t act so surprised,” you huffed, “as if it’s a big secret or something. You’re obviously very attractive.”

Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, thanks.” He wanted to return the compliment, but thought it might be inappropriate or rude somehow. You broke the silence quickly as you held up two pocket squares in front of him.

“Which of these do you prefer?” you prompted. He selected the solid gold one, making you smile. “I knew you’d pick that one.”

“How?”

“I dunno, just fits you,” you shrugged as you folded it and gently placed it in his pocket. Even through so many layers, your touch on his chest made his heart flutter. Your fingers brushing over his as you slipped a watch onto his wrist was enough to cause palpitations.

He looked better in this ensemble than he expected. This version of himself looked much more likely to be invited to parties than any other version. If only he actually wanted to go to parties.

You put him in the pinstripe suit last, after putting a few pins in the cranberry suit to indicate minor changes you would make later, and stepped back to ponder your work.

"Hm, unbutton those top two buttons for me?" you requested with a raised eyebrow.

I will if you do, he thought to himself, but silently unbuttoned his own shirt anyway.

"I mean, it definitely works like this, but I wanna see you in a tie. And I've got juuuuust the one," you smiled. Soon you were approaching him with a red paisley tie, and helping him button up his shirt and tying the tie for him— you explained something about how it was a unique knot he likely couldn't do himself, but he was too lost in having you so close to notice. It would be so easy to just reach up and grab your waist, pull you into a kiss, finally tell you how bad he wants you.

Well, it would be physically easy, but it would be very scary. Just imagining it had his heart racing.

“I heard from Tony this morning,” you informed him suddenly, slipping the tie around his neck and popping his collar up for him.

“Really? Is he in need of a wardrobe update?”

“Yes, but he hasn’t realized that yet so that wasn’t what he called about.”

He laughed a little at the jab, though it also made him a little worried what secret opinions you held about his own style (or lack thereof).

“We talked about you, actually,” you added.

“O-oh,” Bucky stammered, “uh, he’s not exactly my biggest fan. So whatever he said probably isn’t true.”

“He said that you have a crush on me,” you replied nonchalantly, not even looking up from your work on his tie.

Bucky gulped, and he knew you saw the bob of his Adam’s apple because you were staring right at his neck.

“Like I said, Tony isn’t a very reliable source,” Bucky replied, but his voice cracked in the middle and he cringed internally.

“I’ll write it off as another one of Tony’s off-color jokes then,” you dismissed, perfecting the knot of his tie and stepping back to observe him. He always felt nervous when you looked at him like that, like he couldn’t hide anything from you.

“What… what did you say, when he told you that?” Bucky asked nervously.

“I asked him what he was smoking and if I could have some,” you laughed. “I thought it was totally impossible— and don’t worry, I didn’t tell him that you got hard when I did your inseam.”

Bucky’s throat became dry at the same moment that his palms got clammy.

“I— um, I was just—”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you dismissed quickly, still talking about this all so casually which only made him even more confused, “you’re not the first, it happens.”

“I’m not the first?!”

“Yeah, if anything you were one of the few who didn’t say something creepy about it, which is always appreciated. It’s just a bodily reaction, you can’t control it.”

“Did Tony ever say something creepy?” Bucky pressed, his hands involuntarily tightening into fists— another bodily reaction he couldn’t control.

“You know, Tony said you were really worried that he had been inappropriate with me, or even that he and I had a fling or something,” you added as you stepped back, giving him a quizzical look, “and now it’s sort of sounding like he was right.”

“No, no, it’s not that, I just—”

“Was he right about anything else?” you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

“I was being nosy, I’m sorry,” he sighed, “it’s just that… and I know it’s none of my business, but the idea of him and you… it isn’t a pleasant mental image.”

You laughed a little, in a way that made him feel kind of small. “Why not? You know how he is. Definitely has a wandering eye… and occasionally a wandering hand.”

Bucky winced. “I swear, if he ever put his hands on you, I’ll go find him right now and beat him senseless.”

“What if I wanted him to?”

He nearly saw red, but he knew he had no right to be angry. You were a grown adult and he had no ownership over you… he just sort of wished that he did.

“So it’s true then? You and him…?”

“No, Bucky,” you laughed, “it’s not. Nothing’s ever happened between us. I generally don’t get involved with clients like that.”

“Generally? Is there an exception?”

You chewed your lip, seemingly a little thrown off by his question. “Uh, I mean, no— I’ve never been involved with a client, no, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Why would you say ‘generally’ then?”

“Uh, I guess I just… I wouldn’t want to rule anything out, that’s all. Never say never.”

And for a moment he almost wondered if you were flirting with him. Certainly not, with him having come across as both a jealous hot-head and a bumbling dweeb who pops a boner faster than a randy teenager, but just for a second the way you looked at him was… questionable.

“I mean, who knows,” you continued, “what if, hypothetically, some gorgeous guy walked into my store one night— a sensitive guy, who made me laugh and put up with me rambling about ties for the better part of an hour— and I was supposed to dress him up when all I wanted to do was undress him?”

Your finger started to trail down his chest lightly, tickling his skin through the dress shirt.

“I wouldn’t want to think he was off-limits just because he’s a customer… right?” you asked quietly, looking up at him and biting your lip.

He was afraid to make the wrong move, but he really really hoped this was flirting.

“I don’t think anyone would object to being dressed or undressed by you,” Bucky responded, hoping he could stay neutral until he was sure what you were talking about.

You chewed your lip, looking away as if you were thinking about something.

"I know I certainly haven't. And wouldn't," he added, feeling the need to say something.

You nodded, placing his tie inside his jacket and seeming happy with your work.

“You know, the fit looks great," you announced, "but I’m a little worried that one of the measurements was wrong. Mind if I do your inseam again?”

His throat was dry all of a sudden, but he responded quickly anyways. "Uh, go ahead…"

You looked up at him as you started to sink to your knees, very slowly. That little move looked real good in the mirror behind you. “Last time I did this, there was something getting in the way, made it difficult to know if I was doing it right…”

"M-my apologies," he whispered.

"Oh no, I'm not complaining," you purred as you slowly began to run your fingers up the side of his leg, keeping searing eye contact until his knees felt a little weak.

When your hand reached the top of his inner thigh, the back of it brushed against his balls and he shivered. Delicately, and so excruciatingly slowly, your hand moved higher and gently rubbed his erection through the fabric.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

It must have been all the anticipation that made it so intense, made shivers run up his spine every time your hand moved over his length, made his toes curl inside the ridiculously fancy shoes you’d put him in.

“I’m gonna take it out now, okay? I promise I won’t measure you here,” you winked.

"You can if you want," he shrugged, deciding now was the time for feigned confidence if there ever was one. “I mean, if you’re worried about fit…”

You bit your lip, and he was proud to see the effect his words had on you. “I’ll be honest, I am a little worried it won’t fit…” You were quick with his belt, but slow with his button and fly, apparently having more fun teasing him. “Fuck, Bucky,” you groaned softly as you took his cock out.

“Don’t look so excited, doll, you’ll give me an ego,” he purred.

“Can’t help it,” you sighed, “looks delicious.”

You licked a long wet stripe up from the bottom all the way to the tip, making a show of licking up the bead of pre-cum before taking his head into your mouth, and Bucky blinked a few times to be sure that this was actually happening.

"Been wanting to do that since I first saw you," you admitted, grinning as you stroked him right beside your face, which only helped to illustrate how big he was compared to you.

"Dirty girl," he praised with a smirk.

Flirting, he wasn’t so good at. Conversation in any form typically stressed him out. But this? This he was still pretty good at. And he’d never wanted it so bad before.

When you took him in your mouth again, you didn’t stop until you started to gag; he couldn’t stop himself from moaning through his teeth when you did it.

"Look up at me, princess," he instructed softly, grinning when you obeyed quickly. "Now look over there at that mirror. Look how good you look on your knees for me, choking on my cock."

You moaned around him when you made eye contact with your own reflection, and it felt so fucking good he almost lost it right then and there. He held your jaw, almost too tightly, and guided you as your head bobbed on his length. Your mouth was so warm he thought he would burn up— and it only got warmer the deeper he managed to get. God, he was so ready to pump his load right into your throat, but he wanted to do so much more to you first.

In one quick motion, he pushed you off of his cock, pulled you up to face him, and flipped you around, holding you to his chest with the metal arm and letting the flesh one start rubbing your thigh. This way, both of you were looking at the mirror in front of you, and he loved watching you gasp and moan as you felt and watched his fingers move higher and higher.

“I think it’s time to find out if you really are ‘full-service’,” he purred right against your ear, making searing eye contact with you in the reflection. “You’ve seen so much of me, but I haven’t seen nearly enough of you yet. Been daydreaming about what you could be hiding under these tight little skirts.”

As he pulled up the plaid-patterned fabric, he saw that you were wearing white, lacy panties and he groaned deeply.

“What are you wearing these for?” he teased, rubbing along the edge but never getting where you wanted— and he knew you were getting desperate, because your hips were starting to buck up into his hand. “Were you expecting something would happen today, sweetheart?”

“I— I was hopeful,” you stammered; instantly, he slapped you right on your barely-covered pussy, just hard enough to make you yelp and squirm in his grasp.

“You’re so shameless,” he chuckled darkly, “and I love it. I just hope this isn’t your usual routine— acting all innocent and batting your eyes so your clients will fuck you.”

“No, I swear, it’s just you, Bucky,” you whimpered, “there’s nobody else, please…”

“Please what? Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to… to touch me more,” you whispered, as if it was a secret and not patently obvious.

He slipped two fingers underneath the thin fabric, finding your clit right away (not difficult at all with how swollen it was) and rubbing it in gentle circles.

“Oh god,” you sighed, “Bucky…”

WIth his hand on your hips, it wasn’t hard at all to push you back into him so he could rub his aching cock against you.

"What material is this skirt made of?"

"It's a silk blend," you answered breathlessly, "about 30% cotton."

"It's soft," he purred before yanking your skirt up higher and pressing his cock against your ass instead, "but not as soft as you."

Next to go was your blouse, which he tore open to the sound of buttons flying every direction and bouncing off of the mirrors and floors.

"Bucky!" you yelped, but he could see your nipples harden through the lacy white bra. If there was any doubt that you had intended to seduce him today, the matching undergarments dispelled it.

After teasing your nipples between his fingers for a moment, he reached back down between your legs— and when his fingers slipped through your folds and moved down to your opening, he actually moaned just from how wet you are.

"Fucking hell," he growled, "you are drenched, princess. You liked sucking me off that much?"

"Not just that," you clarified, "you look really good in my suits."

He gave you a toothy smile in the mirror, using it to nibble on your ear a bit. "You deserve most of the credit for that," he purred.

"No, no, I don't," you whined, "you'd look sexy in a paper bag, honestly… you turn me on so much, Bucky."

“Did you… think about me? After I left your shop the other night?” he asked playfully, already foreseeing your answer from the way your thighs clenched and your lips let out the subtlest gasp.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“You’re smart enough to know I want you to be more specific than that,” he chuckled.

“I thought about you that night… after I got into bed…” you elaborated slowly, clearly distracted by the way he was moving his fingers: delicately, but with obvious intentionality. “I thought about what it would’ve been like if you had grabbed me and kissed me, shoved me against the wall, fucked me right there on my desk… in front of the glass wall, where anyone could’ve walked by and seen you claim me…”

His cock was throbbing, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the image itself or from the knowledge that you’d been fantasizing about it. “Were you touching yourself?” he growled.

“Yes,” you sighed, your thighs starting to visibly shake, your knees bending towards each other in the mirror.

“Show me how,” he demanded. “Show me exactly how you were playing with your needy little pussy while you thought about me.”

Your hand found its place on top of his, your fingers starting to move his to the specific place, guiding his movements to be faster and rougher.

“Oh, I see,” he grinned, “you don’t like to tease yourself, do you? You like to jump right into it, come as many times as you can and rub yourself raw in the process?”

You nodded feverishly, panting and whining and writhing in his grasp.

“You’re so desperate, honey… such a shameless cockwhore for me.”

“For you,” you repeated through your trance, “Bucky, ‘m close… keep touching me, please…”

He kept his thumb on your clit but gently slid one finger inside you, both of you gasping at the sensation (if for different reasons).

“So tight,” he hissed, already pulling it back out, “fuck, and just for one finger…”

“More, please,” you begged mindlessly.

“More? Sure you can take it?”

You bit down on your lip as you nodded, and he pushed a second finger in beside his first. He felt you struggling with it, both in your walls and in the way you winced a little, but you softly begged him to keep going so of course he couldn’t stop. You adjusted quickly, your wetness starting to run down his hand.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, “now, please, can’t wait anymore.”

“Yes you can,” he encouraged, “and you will, cause I need to taste you first.”

Pulling his fingers out of you, he flipped you around again, finally kissing you the way he’d been dreaming of since he first saw you. It was intense but not too dominating— in spite of everything. It was a romantic sort of kiss, maybe too romantic for the situation (that being his cock out and hard and pressed against you, and his fingers covered in your arousal) but perfect nonetheless.

“That’s not what I thought you meant when you said you wanted to taste me,” you giggled when he pulled away.

“No, I meant it the other way,” he smiled, “I just wanted to do that first.”

He picked you up suddenly, making you gasp a bit, but knelt down to lay you on the floor pretty soon after. You looked up at him with wide eyes as he lifted your leg and kissed his way up. He could smell your need, and he worried it would drive him wild before he reached his destination.

Pulling your soaked panties aside, he realized he could probably come just from looking at you. “Such a gorgeous pussy,” he growled his praise, leaning down to plant a few more teasing kisses over the inside of your thighs. Finally, he started with one long lick, just like you had with him, but you weren’t so patient to tolerate it. Nearly instantly your fingers pulled his hair, clearly trying to guide him to tease you less, but he couldn’t be swayed to go easy on you.

“I hope you’re not forgetting who’s in charge,” he smiled hungrily.

“And what if I am?” you returned, clearly looking to get on his nerves so he’d get rough with you. He was happy to oblige.

Bucky sat up and loosened his tie, slipping it off of his neck with a smirk. "Now, this is 100% Venetian silk, so it should feel nice around your wrists," he cooed. You offered your hands willingly, and he got a chance to show off a few complex knots of his own. "Now be a good girl and keep those hands above your head, alright?"

You did as he asked, freeing him to hold your legs open as he devoured you, alternating between teasing your bud with the tip of his tongue, and fucking you with it.

"You taste like heaven, doll," he growled when he came up quickly, "and the way you moan when my tongue's inside you? I swear I could die happy right now."

"I wish you wouldn't though," you whimpered.

He laughed a bit before he got back to it, letting his tongue focus on your clit while he filled you with his fingers again. Your walls clenched down on him occasionally, and when it became more frequent just as your moans became louder, he knew you were close.

"Stop, stop," you sighed suddenly, pushing him away.

"Are you alright?" he asked, nervous he'd done something wrong.

"No I'm fine, I just… I don't want to come yet. I want you inside me first."

"And what about what I want, hm? What if I want to watch you come just from my tongue?" he offered instead, though he was definitely still very persuadable in this regard.

"I know you wanna fuck me, Bucky, don't make me wait any longer,” you moaned, your back arching up a little from the floor.

Not needing to be told twice, he flipped you onto your elbows and knees, making sure you could support yourself with bound wrists before letting you go. His hands running over your exposed ass and thighs made you shiver, and he smiled down at you. At this point, he was probably more desperate than you were, but he was doing a much better job of hiding it, even taking the time to reach up and undo a few of the buttons of his shirt, because wow suits are warm and not meant for his level of physical activity.

Still, he figured he had waited long enough— he needed to fuck you while he still had at least a shred of patience left. He was going to need it if he was going to give you time to adjust to him.

Holding his cock and rubbing it through your folds, he chuckled when you whined and dropped your head down in a pout. He loved watching your expression shift into a gasp as he pushed in.

He went slow, but he didn't stop either. He wanted to test you just a little. He wanted to stretch you open.

"Fuck," you cried, "god, you're so… you feel so…"

"Look in the mirror," he instructed coldly, although the coldness was just a front for the way he was holding himself back as your body swallowed him so beautifully.

You moaned again, higher-pitched and weak, just as he finally got all the way in. He waited until he felt your body relax a bit before he asked if it was okay for him to move yet. You answered with a quick nod, a breathy "please," and he didn't need any more encouragement.

It was probably too fast to start off with, but god, he'd been waiting so long to fuck you like this.

"Baby," he whispered, "you're so perfect."

He held you steady and thrusted deep, so deep that it made you gasp each time. You looked incredible, and you felt incredible, but the way you sounded was just… divine. He could never have imagined the beautiful way you would sound when he was bringing you pleasure like this. Having heard it, he wanted to make you sound like this as often as possible from now on. Technically he couldn’t even be sure he’d get another chance to, but surely sounds this perfect meant you had to be having a good time, right? Ideally a good enough time to call him again?

He was snapped back to focus when he saw your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.

"Don't look away from that mirror, honey," he growled, "don't close your eyes. Look how pretty you look like this."

He could tell you loved it from the way your channel fluttered and flexed.

"You like watching yourself get fucked, princess?"

"Yes," you sobbed as he grabbed your hips harder, hoping to leave a bruise, "it feels so good, Bucky, please don't stop!"

"I won't stop, pretty girl. Not until you cream on my cock," he grunted.

"Fuck, I'm close," you whined, "Bucky, I'm gonna come— oh god right there!"

And he was sure it couldn’t be fake from the way your body tightened and released so many times, the way you quivered and your breathing seemed to stop for a moment. Even though he could barely take it, he kept fucking you through it until you were shaking so violently that he worried about your health.

“You feel so goddamn good when you come, princess,” he moaned softly. “Tryin’ to milk my cock for all it’s worth, aren’t you?”

You laughed a little, sounding exhausted, but as he kept fucking you he could feel how sensitive you had become. When he reached down to push your skirt back up to your waist after it had started to fall down a bit, he felt his own movements in your gut and it took so much not to lose his cool in that moment. Instead, he pulled your upper body into his so that you could see in the mirror the way your lower stomach was bulging a bit each time he pushed in all the way.

"F-fuck, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Anybody ever been that deep inside you before?"

"No, not even close," you moaned.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked gently, kissing up and down your neck slowly to match his lazy, teasing thrusts.

"A little," you admitted, "but it feels good. Don't stop."

He wasn’t so brutal with his thrusts, still deep but with a patient, measured pace. It staved off his orgasm a bit longer, and it made you moan all slow and throaty which was not better or worse than the needy, high-pitched moans, but enjoyably different. You didn’t sound as desperate anymore (probably because you’d already come), instead seeming relaxed and calm— if still arching your back and biting your lip nonetheless.

"I wanna come inside you," he whispered right against your ear; he could feel the way you shivered as a result.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Is that what you want? Wanna be full of my come?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, please Bucky I need it so bad!"

"Fuck, gonna fill you up so good, doll," he promised gruffly. "Want me to make you mine, beautiful?"

He knew it was a risky thing to say, but his risks had paid off so far, and he wasn't in his most cautious mood.

"Already yours, Bucky," you sighed, "I'm yours, please come in me…"

It hit him suddenly when you said that, and harder than he expected. He hadn't come like that in… he hadn't come like that ever. He preferred not to think about the sudden, wavering moan he let out in that moment because he wondered if it sounded unsexy, but thankfully his mind was distracted by the overwhelming sensation of his softening, sensitive cock still within you.

He managed to maneuver you in the way he needed as he pulled out, leaning you back into him and holding your legs open to the mirror in front of you.

"Look in the mirror, sweetheart,” he instructed, his whisper a little labored as he was still catching his breath, “watch my come leak outta your pussy."

You seemed to be in awe of it, despite it being the obvious outcome of what had just happened. To be fair, he was in awe of it in a sense, too; a thick, slow stream of sticky white come dripping down from your swollen hole and onto the floor… it was mesmerizing.

Your body was limp in his arms as he finally allowed you to rest, your eyes falling shut as you melted into his embrace. He took a moment to untie your wrists, tossing the garment aside with an exhausted sigh. “Bucky…” you mumbled sleepily, apparently just to say his name.

“Was that… sort of what you were hoping for today?” he asked softly, kissing your temple.

“And more,” you giggled. “Oh my god, I… I don’t even know how to describe that… you’re so… fuck, I don’t know, my brain is totally jelly right now.”

“In a good way?”

“In the best way.”

He smiled, admiring your vacant-yet-pleased expression and feeling satisfied with his work. You turned over to lay your head on his chest, and he gladly draped his arms around you in response. Holding you like this felt so purely right, in a way so few things did to him. Funny enough, even just having fucked you on the floor and already holding you afterwards right now, he felt nervous again that he would say something wrong. You were a modern woman, after all, and maybe this was this ‘hook-up culture’ he kept hearing about.

“Was that true what you said, doll?” he asked gently, feeling you stir a little and slide a leg up to rest over his. “Did you mean it when you said that you were mine? Or was it just, you know, the heat of the moment…?”

You smiled a little, looking kind of embarrassed. “Um, yeah, I meant that… I’m yours, if you want me to be.”

He didn’t feel as guilty for feeling so possessive over you now. Clearly it was appreciated, in the right context. And he was now at least 75% sure that this wasn’t a hook-up. “Well, I’m yours, too,” he replied with a soft laugh, “whether you want me or not.”

“I want you,” you confirmed.

You laid in silence together for some unknowable amount of time, but it was a purely unawkward silence. A peaceful silence, and one filled with possibilities, but not uncomfortable. Maybe it was uncomfortable in the sense that the carpet, while still being very plushy and expensive, was still the floor and not as forgiving as a bed… but it was completely worth it.

Part of him feared to ruin the moment by speaking, but much more of him feared that you would slip out of his grasp if he didn’t say something. "This may be the wrong time to ask this— or maybe just the wrong order to do this stuff in— but I wanted to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner sometime."

You laughed, but cuddled deeper into his chest. "Um, yeah, that would be nice."

"I just hope I'll find something nice to wear," he grinned.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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