#'take ur phone off the hook and disappear for a while' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eutaerpe · 5 years ago

Text

the escapades (m)

pairing — jimin x reader

genre/warnings— smut (oral, fingering, orgasm denial) & college!au, fratboy!jimin, brief e2l, brief ewb, acr universe

summary — the one where there’s a lot of unresolved sexual tension, until there isn’t.

notes — 8.3k words of the happiness before the storm i couldn’t write. i realised halfway through this there’s a slight plotwise change in comparison to what i wrote in acr so. yeah. sorry. kudos to you if you find it lol

The first time it happens, you’re pretending to be someone you’re not.

You’re sitting near the end of the table, crossing your legs and playing with the hem of your dress, your lips twisted into a frown. The real reason lying behind the simple decision of having a single, almost infinite table of guests doesn’t, in the slightest, cross your mind; why your idiotic brother would see this as a delightful idea really is above you, but you suppose the valuable genes in the family runs all in your DNA.

You’re playing with the table decorations while waiting for the guests to come, and it’s so fucking boring you regret telling Seulgi no, babe, what the fuck - you even shook your head and decided to sound extra mad at the idea - I won’t sneak in weed.

Too bad for you, she had answered, a cute pout on her lips, I’ll give you an hour before you’re bored out of your mind.

The truth hangs above your head, with a sheepish grin: you just needed ten minutes to be absolutely, drastically bored.

In hindsight, sneaking in weed wouldn’t have been the worst idea: your mother is talking to the in laws, gesticulating excitedly at the idea of kids right after marriage. What the fuck, you text Seulgi, at home trying to get out of bed, my brother has been married for an hour and there’s already baby talk going on at the table.

Seulgi

[12.49]

With the baby talk comes the dick talk

You

[12.49]

Oh no the dick talk

Seulgi

[12.50]

man how can you survive your relatives talking about nonexistent boyfriends without my weed, damn???

You

[12.50]

option a: I’ll tell them I’m dating you

Seulgi

[12.50]

we kissed ONE time

You

[12.50]

option b: I’ll tell them I’m in a relationship with Jeon jungkook

Seulgi

[12.50]

bitch we both know you’re not in a relationship with the hottest guy on campus. he has dimples and long hair and piercings. my sources can even confirm he has a big dick. what do U Have

You

[12.51]

i was talking about my vibrator but go off lmao

anyway I’ve had that D ;)

Seulgi

[12.51]

you’re officially cancelled

when did this happen? I can’t believe you’re telling me over text!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You

[12.51]

last semester!!!!! why do you think I’ve named my vib after him!!!!!!

Seulgi

[12.52]

because you’re lusting after him like the rest of us mortals!!!!!!!!!!

You

[12.52]

I’ve upgraded since then. I’ve leveled up. I’ve seen things People Can’t Even Imagine

Seulgi

[12.52]

just say he got u off and go

You

[12.52]

anyway option c: I scare them away by saying controversial things. Id est: I don’t believe in love. I am choosing my partner solely judging their abilities to finger me under a table when people are around. I am secretly lusting after my brother’s wife. I am trying to get impregnated like in The Sims 2 aka I am waiting for that alien dick.

Seulgi

[12.52]

hate to break it to you babe but that’s literally who you are

You

[12.52]

I literally compliment joohyun’s boobs once and this is the treatment I get

Seulgi

[12.52]

are we not gonna talk about your alien dick kink

You

[12.52]

no kink shaming in this house lady

option d: I listen to their complaints and run

Seulgi

[12.53]

option dick

man sorry I meant option d

You

[12.53]

you didn’t

Seulgi

[12.54]

ur right I didn’t

Option e, also known as I’ll entertain the other guests so I don’t have to talk to you, presents itself in the form of one very hot, very ripped young man sporting the most expensive shirt in the room. You’re only human when you admit to yourself, mental sigh, that he ticked all the let’s get y/n horny requirements in less than fifteen seconds.

You can’t believe Joohyun has kept him hidden for so long from you. Such betrayal ends when your brother, Kim fucking Seokjin, hugs him tight and brushes with utter affection the nape of his neck, gracing him with a warm smile and a heartfelt laugh.

You can’t believe Seokjin has kept him hidden for so long from you.

Well. Scratch that. You can.

Suddenly, the ticked requirements disappear and a giant neon sentence with a very cheap background music impose themselves in your head. WHAT A TURN OFF! they read, the neon red words mocking you; you steal a glance at your brother’s acquaintance one more time - one last time - before slipping your phone in your hands and dedicating yourself one more time at your Instagram feed, scrolling through the most recent pics.

(You stumble upon an extremely rare Jungkook selfie, and you hate to admit you spend the following thirty seconds admiring him before tapping twice on the quality content you’ve signed up for when you joined the social)

You suppose that, even though your brother’s friends with fuckboy tendencies are signed off your let’s get to know each other better ;) list, it doesn’t mean the same goes for them.

So, when the dark-haired young man with a jawline sharper than Seulgi’s retorts after her third beer sits next to you, you reckon you shouldn’t be that surprised.

He acts all casual, you notice while discreetly looking at him; he’s busy taking off his jacket and flexing his muscles, all of this while pretending not to notice you, and you find it immensely cute.

Ah, fuckboys.

“Fuck,” he rasps, lips twisted in a crooked smile, “I didn’t think it would be this hot today.”

“Yeah, sorry, the heat is on me.”

He chuckles in disbelief at your words, eyes turning into crescents.

“Right, there’s always the girl stealing the bride’s spotlight at weddings.”

“Oh! That’s me,” you nod enthusiastically, “That’s one hundred percent me.”

“Groom or bride?” He asks, pointing at the couple with his chin.

“What do you think?”

He looks at you funny, pressing his back on the seat, pondering in silence. Cute.

“Bride. One of Bae’s sorority sisters, maybe? You seem too young to be her age, though.”

“Damn,” you exhale, crossing your arms under your chest, “I can’t believe you got it all wrong. The expectations were low, but I’m still disappointed.”

He ducks his head, still smiling. “Then it’s the groom. How do you know Seokjin?”

Your eyes twinkle with excitement at your next words, but honestly, who can blame you? You’re having fun with this lost, cute chick.

“What’s your take, officer?”

He erupts into a laugh, and you drink in his handsome features; fuck you, Seokjin, for being friends with fuckboys only.

“Alright,” he punches the bridge of his nose, scanning the room, which is slowly filling with other guests. “I’m his friend, and I know all of his friends, which can only mean one thing: option a, you’re one of his ex-girlfriends; option b, you’re one of his secret hook-ups; option c, you’re an old friend from high school.”

“Oooh,” you beam, unrealistically intrigued, “You really suck at guessing, don’t you?”

He laughs, passing a hand through his dark locks, messing his perfectly styled hair. “Ok, fair. Which one was the closest, then?”

“Option d, of course.” You nod, relaxing your features into a sheepish grin, “I’m his much more beautiful and smarter sister.”

You exam his face, now twisting into some sort of what the fuck, such betrayal look, and you take in, for the last time – really the last, this time – his attractive, sculptured face, his full lips, the smoothness of his skin. It’s awful and unfair knowing you two won’t cross paths ever again in your lives, but at least you had some fun messing with him before things could worsen.

“I’ll be sitting in the middle of the table, with my family, if you want to avoid me.”

You wink at him for good measure, and you swear to god he blushes.

Half a wine bottle and two flutes of prosecco down, you realise you underestimated your resident fuckboy.

It happens when you’re grabbing your napkin and channelling your dreamy, happy looks towards the newlyweds, dancing in the middle of the room, their eyes gravitating only towards the love of their lives.

You sigh, pouting for the smallest of fractions, when you feel someone sitting at your side.

“You know,” Fuckboy begins, and you picture him licking his lips as he pauses, “Now I get why he never told us anything more than: I’m not an only child.”

“I know,” you exhale, turning to face him, “Seokwon is the real catch of our family. We’re really protective of him.”

“He’s married. With kids.”

“I was there when the twins opened their eyes, thank you.”

“We thought you were either a small kid or a forty years old woman.”

“Wait,” you tilt your head, “How did you know about us then? And who’s we?”

“We dug into his stuff and he caved in, admitting he had a brother and a sister.” Fuckboy looks at you, eyes dark but reflecting the dim lights of the function room, “Us. The frat guys.”

“Right, the fuckboys.”

He looks taken aback by your statement, bewildered, and you take advantage of his reaction to stand up and head away from him. It’s his words that stop you from doing so, though.

“You don’t know us—”

“—except I do know your pledges and your brothers.”

“But you don’t know me.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, “I prefer to steer away from my brother’s friends, though.”

“Right,” he says, tightening his lips in a hard line, almost hurt, “So, who am I to interfere with your judgmental thinking?” He clicks his tongue, then, a resolute exhale slipping past his lips, smothered by his own tingling despair.

The words hurt.

You don’t know what exactly pinched your senses hard, if the tone or the wallowing sadness swimming in his expression, but, as he stands up and leaves, you’re left facing the cold, hard truth.

The words hurt, you hurt, and you feel guilty.

You say nothing, glancing in the direction of the first alcoholic beverage around, and you fill yourself a glass.

Had it been someone else – had it been another sentence, another less sickening scenario, you would’ve felt proud, righteous. You’re, instead, on the other side of the feelings spectrum, all filled with crippling guilt and a nauseous, pervasive feeling you can’t quite name and pin down.

The guests are dancing around you, moving hand in hand to the rhythm of the pop love song now playing; the ballroom is packed when you let your impulsive side make a choice, eyes following the guy’s composed figure. You can drastically feel the sweat, and the heat the people are radiating, when you stand up and move towards him, the only smiling boy passing his glass from a hand to the other.

You’re close enough to tap his wrist and brush your fingers, which you do; it elicits a gasp from him, all soft, not scathing around the edges yet able to bite you, anyway. It’s the guilt, you remind yourself, looking for a sign of some sort of inclination to accept your apologies between the crease of his brows and tight jaw, and everywhere in between.

It’s sickening—this boy didn’t exist four fucking hours ago. It didn’t even cross your wildest dreams, someone like him. His shape – his silhouette – has left a print in your mind, and no matter how hard you try focusing on something else, someone else, your mind keeps going back to the shape itself.

But you’re a coward, so, while he lets you intertwine your fingers, you admit, voice loud: “I wanna dance.”

He handles you properly, kindly, before pushing you in the crowd and brushing your hips with his hands, all rings and jewellery adorning them.

He blinks twice, biting the insides of his mouth, but he manages,

“Who says I wanna dance?”

Which is a bit stupid, or hypocritic if you might, because he’s swaying you to the rhythm of a ballad the pop love song turned into. You break into the smallest of smiles.

“I want to apologize.”

He scoffs. “I don’t know you,” he says, funnily enough, “But that seems almost unlikely, coming from you.”

“Yeah, you got me there, officer. I was, uhm,” you stare blatantly at his neck, and you suppress the desire to stroke your fingers’ pads on his soft skin, “I was out of line. I’m sorry. You were right, I don’t know you. I do know your frat brothers, my own brother, but that doesn’t mean I know you.”

He hums, moving for a small fraction of instants his thumbs on your hips and it’s enough for your breath to catch into your own throat. He nods, which could mean anything, from I accept your apology to go fuck yourself, this is bullshit. You prefer the former option, if you’re being honest, which is the answer you settle for in your head, hazed and absolutely hazed and madly hazed because of his small physical contact.

To put this into the simplest terms, Seulgi’s words, you don’t like this.

“I like dancing,” his eyes tower you and gaze at the other people dancing; you wonder if he’s thinking about them, who they are to you, what role they played in Seokjin’s life, if they’ll show up to your wedding, too. These thoughts popped into your mind unannounced, before, at the table, before the not-really-fuckboy sat next to you and made you feel guilty. Such absurdity; yet here you are, in his arms. Oh god, what would Seulgi think of you if she saw you?

“Good to know, I’m awful at shoulder-hips coordination.”

“Shoulder-hips coordination?” he inquiries, lips parted.

“Uh, body rolls?”

“Oh,” he chuckles, “I see, you mean classy grinding.”

“I don’t do classy grinding, sorry,” you retort, head tilted to a side.

His smile his amused. “Too bad, shoulder-hips coordination is a nice trait to exhibit sometimes.”

“I prefer hips coordination. Well, hips rotation.”

“Hips rotation?”

“Riding? Is the term somehow unfamiliar to you?”

He flushes, biting back a grin and fixing his gaze somewhere in the crowd. How cute.

“Not at all, it’s nice to meet a hips rotation enthusiast here, though.”

“Statistics say at least a member in each family is a riding enthusiast, did you know?”

“Shit, talk dirty to me,” he licks his lips, pointing at Jin with his chin, “Didn’t peg him for a rider, though. Not at all.”

“I’m starting to think you’re not a STEM major, are you? You’re lacking basic intuition, my friend.”

“Is this your attempt of discovering my major?” – he eyes you, a flick of amusement burning in his orbs – “You’re not very smooth, you know?”

“I have my moments.”

He snorts, placing both hands on the small of your back. You’re at height level with the base of his neck, and it’s fun how your mind betrays you in such moments, providing mental images of your nose brushing against his skin, and you nuzzling in the crook of his neck. Such taunting, invasive pictures. Fuck off, you reprimand your own mind, fuck off.

“I’m Jimin.”

“Jimin,” you taste the name on your tongue, hitting the back of your front teeth. “Jin never talked about you. I’m Y/N.”

“Jin never talked about you either.”

“Of course he never did, I’m prettier than he is.”

His little dimples make an appearance. “You know, you could really steal the bride’s spotlight.”

“That was my ultimate goal all along, even though I prefer the dark side.”

“I,” he licks his lips, and you don’t know why you’re following the gesture, “I meant to say you’re beautiful.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, eyebrows raising, “Are you a charmer?”

“I mean,” he begins, sheepish smile on display, “I never kiss and tell.”

“Touching.” He smirks. “How sweet of you.”

“You know what else is sweet?”

“Please,” you beg, meeting his eyes, “Don’t say my pussy.”

“Please,” he repeats, same mocking tone, “The possibilities are endless. Your mouth,” he scoots closer, words whispered on the shell of your ear, “Your mouth around my dick,” he almost nibbles your ear, “Your mouth screaming my name.”

“My pussy,” you add, trying not to lose your mind.

“I would never call sweet something I’ve not tasted.”

He raises a brow.

“Are you offering? You’re not very smooth, you know?”

He ignores the last question, tightening his grip. “In the middle of your brother’s wedding? Seokjin’s wedding? I’m not a dick, even though you sitting on my face would be a sight to see.”

“Right?” your voice doesn’t falter for a second, “That’s what I always say”

“Nice to see how we’ve got much in common. But I was thinking of something else, actually—” His face is once again inches away from yours, ear to mouth, hot breath fanning over you bare neck. “I wanna finger you.”

Oh.

“Under the table. Right behind you. Wanna make you whimper.”

It’s almost like being tongue-tied, fumbling for words, body flushing, but you gather somewhere the strength to form an actual sentence, which makes him smirk devilishly.

“I can be very quiet.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Bet you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut.”

“When I win,” you say, lying your words on an unrealistically high vote of confidence, even for yourself, “What do I get?”

He licks his lips, slow, savouring the moment. “You get to ride my face.”

“Not your dick?”

“I’m not a fuckboy, baby.”

A comeback of some kind is already on your tongue, but – there’s a kiss somewhere in the following seconds, all wet and tingling and perhaps filled with too many lip bites, but he can’t really blame you when you’ve been brushing your thighs together for the past minute, heat pooling down your belly. It’s enough for you to silently pledge for more, and for him to tease, because he takes a step back, smirk in place and lips reddened, and guides you towards his seat at the end of the table with a hand on the small of your back.

Downhill begins as soon as you sit down, legs barely parted, a minimum space not fitting for his plans, apparently, because the crease between Jimin’s eyebrows grows when he nudges them apart with his hand, the cold metal of his rings cooling down your flushed state. You want to gasp at the sudden intrusion, but the sound is swallowed entirely by his hot mouth on yours, distracting once again, incredibly soft and alluring. This kiss is slow, this time, like he’s taking his time tasting you and learning about the hums he draws out of you, the shyness of your previously biting tongue, and how fast you get lost in the kiss itself. You press a chaste kiss on his mouth, before creaking a space between you.

“I’m starting to think you’re all bark and no bite”

He doesn’t answer, but stares into your eyes with his hooded gaze, and he manages to sneak a hand furtively under your dress not breaking the contact. His skin is warm, but you’re warmer, and his destination is even hotter. He cocks his head, fingers brushing against the soaked, sticking material you used to call panties up until fifteen minutes ago, and he must notice—his eyes grow wider, his jaw tightens and his hand gains courage.

Fuck. This should be embarrassing, getting worked up over dirty innuendos and a kiss or two, but you’re instead feeling flushed and more. More sensitive. More open to the idea of him ruining you, even though that’s not what he’s offering. Or— is he?

The question lies unanswered when his digits rub with a sparkled intensity over both your clothed sex and your inner thighs. It’s a continuous, mellifluous melody, his fingers dancing between the two until he settles on your panties only, and that’s when you almost let out a soft moan; you don’t, he raises his brow, challenging, but you don’t, and instead glance around to notice if someone has his eyes on the both of you, sitting in the furthest region of the fucking smart, endless table.

He raises the stake, flushed: Jimin pushes your panties on one side, petting with his index your exposed self, and you suck in a breath. He continues to do so, face still, closing the distance between you two.

You don’t question the sudden kiss, instead you angle your face and close your eyes and let him press his lips on you. This feels like being drunk, or high, stretching underneath a sky dripping with stars. You cup his face with your hands, his lips so terribly soft and inviting, the smallest of smiles meeting your own chapped and curved upwards lips.

It’s when you’re merely inches away from him that he thumbs at your clit, sensitive and tingling, circling with utmost peace and no speed whatsoever. You pout at little, you realize, which makes him melt either cause of your cute frown -oh, how the tables have turned- or simply because he’s the devil himself, pressing a finger against your entrance and delving it into your heat.

“Cute,” he purrs, kissing you, “Is this okay?”

The crude, hot, nerve-wracking fingering has begun, which makes you, quickly enough, putty in his hands and ablaze with ardour for this man whose rasping voice could kill you.

“Yeah,” you breathe on his mouth, eyelids drooping closed, “Yeah, all good.”

You hum to yourself as he starts pressing kisses on your jaw and your neck, a trail of treacherous flames lighting up your skin, and you have the audacity to sigh under his ministrations, a tiny, strained sound not quite a mewl.

If he hears, he doesn’t show it. You’re biting your own lip when he enters a second finger, filling your searing emptiness.

“Want three?” he asks, voice husky and as desperate as you are under his touch. He adds it when you nod, the squelch louder than before, and you moan, rocking your hips against his fingers.

“Shh, baby,” he coos, placing his other hand on your hips, slowing your movements, “Be a good girl.”

He fucks you deep, fast, fingers clashing against the silky dress you’re wearing and sweat sparkling on his forehead. He swallows another moans of yours, sucking your bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth. You’re close. You’re so close, and it’s only been a couple minutes. You can’t hear anything that isn’t your wet pussy clenching around his fingers, his rhythm ruthless and burning.

“Too bad you’re not coming on my fingers, today,” he says before kissing your neck and emptying your dripping pussy, then proceeding to taste and lick his own fingers in his mouth. He lets them out with a small pop, and it’s the most terrifying sight you’ve ever had in front of your almost watering eyes. “I’m sorry I won the bet, though, your pussy is the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”

That’s the high and dry story of how you first met Jimin.

The second time it happens, it’s under completely different circumstances, and, substantially, against your every predictions, it really happens. It takes place, like a once in a lifetime event: there’s an orgasm involved, not due to the very charming and never disappointing Jeon jungkook the robotic version, and instead it involves a rather attractive asshole with a persistent smirk plastered on his face.

Except it’s a lot more complicated than what it sounds, and most of it is Seulgi’s fault.

Your roommate had pouted all evening, because that’s what semi adults do when they’re denied a companion for the night.

“I just wanna get wasted. It’s been one hell of a month, and you know how I get when I’m stressed.”

“I can suggest you a vibrator and a bottle of vodka. Do you settle for that, your honor?”

“The more you talk like this,” all self-absorbed and assertive and cautiously, like when talking to a kid, she begins, hands in her long, mahogany hair, “the more I just wanna push you up against the wall.”

“Sounds to me you just wanna get laid.”

“Maybe I do,” she huffs, hands on her hips, the light of your abat-jour highlighting her golden skin. “Maybe I don’t. What I know is that I wanna get wasted. Come with me, pretty please?”

“Look,” you raise your eyes from the book you’ve been holding, stretching a leg onto the unmade bed of yours, “I just wanna get this fucking paper done. I need,” you grip the phone on the bed table, checking for the white, large numbers on your lock screen, “an hour. An hour and half to edit it and I’m all yours.”

“This paper is due on Thursday, though.”

“Yeah, but I have a reputation to uphold in the family. Have to be the most beautiful and successful.”

“You’re full of shit,” are her last words, muttered with a smile as she grabs her jacket.

“Hey,” you call, stretching your neck towards her, “I don’t care if it’s two am and you’re already wasted. Call me and I’ll come to you with a whole bottle of vodka to make it up to you. Hell, I’ll even kiss you goodnight.”

“I don’t wanna make out with you, you freak.”

“You didn’t say that last time, baby!”

Seulgi

[2.13]

wassup bitch

make out with meeeeeeeeeeeeee

[location shared]

com n get me littl nuggrt

Not Sober Seulgi is probably the worst Seulgi you have ever dealt with. You let out a sigh, eyeing the frat dorm all lit up and vibrating to the trashy trap music the insiders are jamming to.

Of course, when it comes to Not Sober Seulgi, there’s boys involved. Frat boys involved. At first, you don’t pay attention to the details, the signs, surrounding you like blinding traffic lights signalling stop stop stop, all red and striking. The thought doesn’t cross your mind, the dots connecting in some hidden part of your brain not making your insides short circuit—instead you’re knocking on the door, then banging on the very wooden entrance until a face shows up; the dorm is dimly lit, and the face is partially lightened by a soft, hued red and, that, too, Future You pinpoints, should have been a sign.

It’s useless, anyway, because you hear the insider talk and you’re burning instantly, like after touching a steaming, hot cup of coffee, except that bitter coffee is still good coffee. Smug Jimin plus bitter you isn’t really sweet, nor a match made in heaven. It’s chaotic, a caustic explosion, and you both know it, judging from the sharp smile he offers you, after blinking lazily at your figure.

“This is a mixer party only,” his soothing voice welcomes you, “Do you have an invite?”

You press your tongue on your teeth, mouth carefully closed.

“Yeah, from Hell, I’ve come to take a fallen angel.”

“Sorry to break it to you, oh-kind-lady, but we didn’t give any invite to poor, damned souls.”

“Too bad I don’t give a fuck about your policies, then,” you move towards the small space between the door and Jimin’s body, but he interferes, placing himself right between the two. “Look, I don’t give a single fuck about this party.”

“Yeah, it sure looks like it.”

You roll your eyes. “My friend is here. She’s most certainly not sober and I’ve come to pick her up. That’s it. Do you think I want to be here, among these drunk, perverted jocks?”

He turns around, stretching his neck, his eyes darting through the crowd, inhibited by alcohol, smelling like cheap beer and weed. The moment his eyes bore into yours, though, it’s terrifying; it’s a rustled reminder of Seokjin’s wedding Jimin, and you don’t like it. You loathe it. You dread it.

“Maybe only some of us.”

He tips his head, lips curving into a timid, small smile, and you tear your gaze from his lips in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, keep dreaming of it. I just want my friend back.” You point your chin towards the amalgam of drunk party animals, “I’ll leave you to your immensely interesting activities, then.”

“What if,” he begins, “You don’t. Or—even better scenario, you leave with me.”

“Best case scenario, I leave with my friend. You stay here.”

“What’s the worst-case scenario, then?”

You cock a brow at him, crossing your arms on your chest. “I leave with my friend, you stay here. Sometime before me leaving, you’re punched. Or kicked. I don’t know. There’s a high chance I’ll throw a drink on you.”

“That implies you’ll be here long enough to grab a drink, doesn’t it? And you don’t have to ruin my shirt to get me naked, babe. Just ask nicely.”

You huff, and you’re mildly tempted to shove him against a wall. Or ruin him. Not in the funny way. More like the high and dry way, the one he knows so well. “I changed my mind, I’ll kick you.”

“Ask nicely?” His teasing tone makes your cheeks flush, and you hope the shitplace with subdued lightening can cover it. His expression shifts into an arrogant one, full smirk and little dimples out, so your cute guess is that he can see. He sees his effect on you, albeit completely unwanted and full of hatred from your side, and he enjoys it. Actually lulls in it, letting out a small laugh which, in turn, makes his eyes turn into crescents, all warm and cute—all things he’s not. All things you know he’s not.

“Ask nicely,” you repeat, rolling the words on your tongue, “Okay, babe. Let’s do this, babe. What do you want from me, babe?”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe the answer is you?”

“Yes, actually,” you sigh, fingers brushing his neck, face comically close to his perfect, chiselled one, “That’s exactly what I thought when you stopped fingering me.”

“Right,” Jimin has the audacity to smile, craning his neck as if to close the distance between you in order to meet you for a kiss, “I’m a man of word, thought. You should be impressed.”

“I’m pretty sure the only thing that’s impressed is your face under the orgasm denial definition. Google it, babe, I guarantee you the meaning comes with your name and a brilliant review of one star.”

“Unlike you.” He licks his lips, eyes on your pretty pink ones, smeared with venom, “You’re not coming.” He explains, to further ignite your rage.

“And whose fault is that, babe?”

Jimin nuzzles into your neck, cupping your other cheek with his rough palm, and his thumb stills on your throat, right where your breath is stuck. He adds pressure on it, lips fondling your burning skin, his usual smirk plastered on them.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“You’re not fucking me,” you spit back, mouth now millimetres away from his, gently inviting you to kiss it, and cherish it, and biting it until you’re satisfied with the hot result.

“I’ll eat you out? Until you come.” He hums. “You’ll come.”

His voice is a mere strangled sound, wanting and dripping with need, and you snap out of it with a small smile.

“Nice offer,” your smile is wicked as you scrape his nape with a feathery touch, the slow movement rousing a flutter in your lower belly. “But get in line, babe.”

His shell-shocked face is the last thing you see before you fulfil the let’s rescue Seulgi! party.

(“Why do you smell like softener?” Seulgi sniffs you, arms looped loosely around your neck, eyes completely shut down. It’s a nice sight, all things considered. You’re no angel, no saint, no perfect person, but you’re a nice friend, and that’s probably the most Seokjin trait you recognize in yourself. It’s your shared apartment, and it’s past 3 am and you’re the one good friend who keeps her promises. “It’s strawberry vodka, you heathen.”)

The line turns out to be a real line, queue line, let’s get this coffee line, which, well. How can one word it, how can one phrase it fully catching the irony of it all, the distinctive je ne sais quoi of life without—

“Nice to see you here.”

It’s the perfect set for a rom-com, you notice, taking in the warm scenery around you. What else can one dream of, right? The campus coffee shop, the campus hot not-really-but-also-kinda fuckboy Jimin, partial jock to give him credit, full time attractive idiot with a tendency for orgasm denial. Really.

“What are the chances?” You exhale, voice devoid of emotions. For the sake of your parents’ integrity, you suppose, because they raised no impolite woman, of course, you turn around to face the angel-like human being, black hair partially covering his forehead, little dimples on full display. That’s—that is lack of integrity, or indecency or au-fucking-dacity. It might as well be a mix of the above-mentioned possibilities, all fitting and nurturing you because he’s gorgeous. He’s handsome. Jimin’s the most attractive human being you’ve ever seen in your life, and it’s not fair.

(Beside the fact that you’ve lived with Kim Seokjin, for fuck’s sake)

He pokes his own cheek, and you bask into the otherworldly scenario that takes place right in front of your caffeine deprived eyes. It’s a sight for sore, soft eyes, and it’s the end of the world as you know it, because it’s morning, too early to properly function like a normal human being, but there he is. There he is, Jimin, channelling his inner boyfriend material aura, oozing off boyfriend smell, nice, fresh, aftershave smell, rocking a stupid sweater and the messiest black mop of hair.

It’s honestly a tragedy, and you won’t stand for it. You will make a move—

“You’re squinting your eyes, like, real tight. Are you alright?”

Just ogling you, your drowsy mind offers, the fucking cheater.

“Yeah,” you reply, swallowing a lump in your dry throat, “Just need coffee. A latte. Anything.”

You move forward in the queue, and as you blink you realize it’s your turn, until it’s not anymore. Jimin carefully and gently moves you out of the way, brushing with the softest touch your side.

“A latte and an iced americano, please.”

The sweetened order for two turns into a hushed thank you, a tipped smile, a flutter of you heart. It’s drinks still half full, his curious gaze darting on your lips, your defences down. It’s unfair, because in a hot second all this pent-up tension shifts into a light, chaste kiss, your back pressed against the coffee shop’s restroom; your chest heaves under his tantalizing make-out session with your neck, followed by his frantic lips pressing on yours, his tongue licking lazily into your mouth, a gasp easing its way out of your warm and eager mouth. It’s a hot-blooded supercut, each frame announced by a starving moan, a content sigh, and, before you realise it, you’re on your bed, Jimin hovering on top of you.

It’s Saturday morning, you hum to yourself, fingers sliding into his hair, all’s in check. There’s a warm body slumped on yours, his tongue swerving on your lower lip and his hips shyly bucking between your open legs. Your panties are drenched, you can feel his hard on through the jeans and, really, all’s in check.

He nudges your nose with his. “Lemme eat you out.”

The answer lies sitting on the tip of your tongue, right next to an obnoxious remark that you hope will rile him up enough for him to rip your underwear, which you definitely won’t complain about. However, the words don’t come out, they slur in your craving mouth the second he gets up and shoves you toward the end of your unmade bed, spreading your naked legs open with his calloused palms.

“Nice skirt,” he comments, voice a rasp, eyeing the drenched, lilac underwear, skirt at this point gone up to cover your stomach. “I just want…”

He shuffles closer, enough for you to feel his hot breath on your core, and that’s when Jimin pulls the panties on a side, teasing you with little licks to your entrance. You’re responsive, too eager for anything to quench your thirst that you sigh happily at the barest of actions, gripping strands of his hair. Jimin chuckles, engulfing the throbbing clit in his mouth in one go and drawing desperate moans out of your cute, devilish mouth.

“Fuckboy move,” you emit, voice cracking at the pressure of his warm mouth, “Oh, oh. Fuck…”

He replies flattening his tongue on your core, then licking and lapping against your dripping folds. Jimin positively glows at the cries you let out, face slobbering with your arousal while driving you insane, fucking with his tongue like his life depended on it. It’s almost a spiritual experience, a crescendo of wails and sobs, his face drown in your pussy and his tongue paying reverence to your approaching orgasm. He can feel it in the way you writhe, in his hand splaying over your stomach, keeping you still while he eats you religiously, forehead beaded with sweat.

You come with a trembling hand in his hair, the other flicking your bare nipple, back slightly arched and a lewd mewl; Jimin takes in the way your body trembles, your breath all staggered because of him, and the sight alone is enough for him to cum in his pants with a grunt, completely untouched.

The second time it happens is, coincidentally, the first time Jimin knows there’s no turning back from this.

Complicated is a big word when it comes to relationship, you reckon, emitting something akin to a gasp, truly soap operas worthy material, but, for the first time in your life, you decide to name it this way.

Being with Jimin is… complicated, for starters. Especially because you’re not with Jimin, in the strict, relationship-wise meaning. He knows your favourite colour (“Why the fuck you only own purple underwear?” “It’s lilac, dick, watch your mouth.” “Watch your own mouth, babe. You’re the one on your knees.”), your favourite food (“But you like having your mouth stuffed with my cock, honey.” You sigh, blushing. “First of all, I’m talking about real food. That amazing steak kind of food—“

“I’ll show you real meat, babe.”

“Gross. Gross. How can I cancel the last five seconds of my life?”

“Come here, Jared, nineteen,” he half smiles, tilting his head, “I’ll get us fries.”), your favourite movie (“We can’t get each other off every time your ugly paper cap fits—oh,” you suck in a breath, Jimin flicking his tongue on your turgid nipple, “oh, god, don’t stop.”), your best friend’s name (“I condone you dicking her so good she sometimes cries, you know, I just don’t when I’m in the room next to hers and all I can hear is my best friend trying to formulate a single coherent word but failing because you’re pounding her mercilessly into the mattress.” Jimin chuckles, grabbing his jacket before holding the doorknob. “She begged, Seulgi.”)—so what? It’s not like you sat down and decided not to ask each other dumb questions, so that you could find out in the funny, kinky way. For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even decide on anything, didn’t even talk about talking, because the relationship related shit didn’t even cross your mind.

It’s even quite fucking hard for it to cross it, because half the time you’re together you’re either both naked – except for the time he pleaded for the tartan mini to stay – or stuffing your mouth with food—because, if there’s something you’ve learned after one too many hook-ups with him is that this kind of sex requires strength. Like, actual, physical strength, if we’re not talking about the this test is draining me please fuck me until I can’t walk sex. Which, yeah, 10/10 would recommend. That was the day Seulgi decided to invest in ear plugs while muttering capitalism, here I come.

You also came.

Funnily enough, guess who also came. Not in the funny, kinky way. Think about the grossest thing, imagine the beyond the bounds of possibility, sprinkle it with Jimin earnestly shoving his dick down your throat, stir it with a poor Taehyung brushing his teeth next to the both of you, a step away from the shower, and serve it on the most expensive plate in the kitchen, a recipe not approved by Kim Seokjin.

Yeah, you mentally roll your eyes, licking your lips clean, at eye-level with your sorta enemy with benefits’ pretty dick: the married brother of yours, former fratboy, taller than your current will to live.

In hindsight, maybe it is Seokjin’s fault. Once you’re married, you’re supposed to be committed to the cause, and sometimes, an angry little crumb in you finds the audacity to speak, the cause is made up of your four walls: ergo home, ergo your married life, miles away from the absurdity that once filled his university days. You’re being hypocritical, you realize, skin wet, body trembling. In the simplest, most hedonistic terms, you’re done with the chaos in this fraternity and just wished that hooking up was easier. It’s more than a stolen orgasm, a random spur of pleasure and free de-stresser; it’s also something not quite like art but just as peculiar. Sex with Jimin is more than nice, more than a fast rummage of clothes on the floor and panties teared, or condoms stuffed in every single pocket of his jacket.

It should also be noticed that it’s been one hell of a stressful week, okay, which means that it’s one of those times you seek for naked intimacy, in its least literal meaning. You’re looking for something sure, something silent, something earnest. Jimin gives you that in the simplest of forms, in the easiest of ways. It’s not fair for your brother to come unannounced and burst into the house with his adorable laugh and love for his own brothers. Way to ruin the moment, bro.

Jimin blinks attentively when Taehyung laughs, clapping his hands all happy and following the elder’s voice outside the bathroom.

“I’m getting you my clothes.”

“Wait, what?”

His lips part just enough for his tongue to wet them, and your eyes follow in silence the gesture.

“I mean,” he starts, grabbing a towel, “You either come out with me from this bathroom or you don’t.”

He’s concise, yet harsh, words uttered with those soft lips yet are just as hot as a slap in your face. He’s telling the truth, but you soon find out you don’t really like it.

There’s something abrupt and severe in those chosen words, so well picked out because they’re not meant to hurt, but at the same time they’re so worrying. So terrible, practically as hard as a punch in your guts.

You either come out of the bathroom with him — you had been blowing minutes before, hadn’t you? Quite the intimacy, huh? — or you don’t. You stay behind. Different rooms, a whole door to separate you while he’s out with the people he cares about.

Seems legit, but. It’s unfair. You know Jimin isn’t choosing for you, but it’s obvious he’s inclined towards an option between the two, and you’re terrified to discover whether it’s his own desire pushing or what he thinks you want.

You, instead, push the thought aside when you nod, taking the towel from his hands and covering your body from this terrific half hook-up.

Because that’s what it is—that’s what you are.

It dawns upon you like a cold breeze hitting your face in full December, suddenly, and that’s when you realize winter is near. In your mind, this hooking up scenario seemed nicer. Sounded softer, a cute bubble moving slowly in the air.

But now—well, now the bubble has burst, and it feels wrong, and this unexpected wrong doesn’t feel right in your chest, and that’s the story of how you leave the house escaping from his window, in his clothes, with vision blurred by hot, stupid, idiotic tears.

Seulgi is the first one to notice, and, obviously, the first one to speak.

“Something’s been bothering you,” she says, head tilted in a way that’s supposed to be emphatic and worried but comes off as stiff and terrified. “Care to share?”

It’s just a wholesome amount of terrifying stuff, isn’t it? First the shower incident, now Seulgi’s ways not working around you anymore. What’s next? Avoiding Jimin for a whole week? Blocking his number? Losing the smart and beautiful title to your obnoxious brother?

You wouldn’t be surprised, really. Shit like this always happens at the same fucking time.

“It’s nothing. A stressful couple days, maybe? Or maybe I’m getting sick. There’s a guy always coughing during Physics. Maybe it’s his fault, who knows.”

Seulgi unlocks her phone, an unreadable gaze studying you. She gives up a second later, though, her weak maybe reaching your ears when you’ve already looked down on your book.

One simply cannot be annoyed because of a half hook up. Christ. You deserve better than that. You have some dignity left, tainted by everything that’s not Jimin and his harsh, stupid words.

So, your mind offers, while you squint your eyes, I suppose there’s nothing else you could do about it.

Nothing else besides acknowledging it and moving on.

Sounds like a plan. A fireproof plan, an escape plan, something detailed and precise. Planned to work out smoothly; planned to be executed without pain or mistakes.

It’s seven sharp when he knocks, takeout in his left hand, eyes bulging because it’s fucking freezing outside.

“It’s fucking freezing, what the fuck.” He says out loud, indeed. What he receives as an answer is the sound of your tongue clicking, the biggest amount of interest you’ve shown towards him the whole week. He would finally exhale, weren’t it for the fact that this is still pretty traumatic, because if there’s something he’s learned while orbiting around you, is that you’re constantly awake and aware of your surroundings. Your body language says that you pay attention to him, or Seulgi, or whoever you’re talking to. You follow the guy with your eyes, and you listen and nod in all the right places during a conversation, and you search for his dark gaze when he’s fucking you in the dimly lit bedroom, the bed creaking under your sweaty sex making. He’s not admitting it, he never will, and he’ll pretty much deny this to everyone who will ask but: there’s something hot about it. Something burning with the way your body reacts to him, when your eyes follow his actions, while your voice falters when he fucks you right, and it somehow pushes him to the edge every time. It’s the equivalent of Jungkook getting a boner in the gym while catching girls and boys drooling at him, except he’s talking about you and your crazy moans, your magic aura.

And yes, okay, fucking blame him, the realization alone made him jerk off in his room like a teen, twice, yesterday. That’s a fact. That’s barely a fact, alright? This is a truth; a statement soon forgot by the knowers. Obviously.

You look spent, he thinks, if he had to choose a word, dared by some arrogant deity to define the current mess you were. He glances at your barely done ponytail, at the tiredness written all over your face. He takes in your baggy sweater, your quiet beauty, knowing this is gonna be one of those nights you take a step back.

He doesn’t say anything though, instead he brushes the hair on your forehead, not even making contact with your skin.

You grab the bag from his hands, shivering instantly and hoping he doesn’t read the signs. They’re—they’re there, you know, you’re collecting them slowly, one after another, grabbing one and looking cautiously for the following one, hoping it’s not there. Hoping it doesn’t exist.

You exhale a sigh, disguising it as cough, a noise, something distracting Jimin from his silent staring, which is, funnily enough, loud and cacophonic.

“Hungry,” you state, the single word weighting more because of the soft pout on your lips. Jimin hates that he knows what it means, that it’s gonna be just the two of you this time, no chill whatsoever, no bodies touching and melting against each-other. He’s not complaining, what the fuck, he’s not an idiot. He’s not even mad, he’s just—accepting, on a level. This is the point of no return, he guesses, following you on the couch and admiring the laptop’s screen reflected on your face.

He doesn’t say anything when you search for Brooklyn 99 on Netflix, because he’d say everything, otherwise. He’d mumble something along the lines of this feels real, we could do this all the time, or, worst of all: I like this. I like you.

So, in order: he tugs at your sleeves and scoots you closer to him, and you say absolutely nothing at the gesture. He’s ecstatic on the inside, partially terrified, mostly delusional. He pretends he’s something more when you lean on him, the slightest pressure of your head on his shoulder. He cares zero fucks about the show when he’s breathing your scent in and feels how warm you are and shuts his eyelids down when he pictures you adoring him. Liking him. Liking him a whole lot more—

He’s fucked, he realises, hours later, when you doze off and he has to carry you to bed, something you claim of loathing, which—what on earth. It’s an unfathomable absurdity, that’s what it is.

“You can stay.”

His voice falters. “What?”

You cough, eyes closed as you speak sinful words: “The night, I mean. It’s fucking freezing outside.”

His lips form a small o, and it’s hot all of a sudden. “Alright,” he manages, staring at you on your bed, hands fidgety and heartbeat accelerated for some reason, “Make space for me. Hey, fucker. I’m serious. Let me in.”

You do.

(to be continued. ily)

#BTS jimin #bts #bts fic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts scenario #bts smut #bts social media au #bts imagine #bts imagines #jimin imagine #jimin #jimin smut #jimin bts #jimin x reader

415 notes · View notes

cattles-bians · 3 years ago

Text

exes au part 15

post directory

em: viola teas i am like. incapable of sleeping in

em: i woke up 10:30 on the dot and i thought. what the fuck

em: 10:30 is especially offensive bc it means the mcdonald’s breakfast is done

obsetress: brain immediately said viola up and about doing all the chores vacuuming with no sympathy for her constantly sleeping in snoring girlfriend dani clayton

obsetress: but nah i'm sorry for you that sucks

em: inspiring deranged viola behaviour is

em: the greatest gift of all

obsetress: god so true when u think about it

obsetress: not that viola vacuums, she def has cleaners but

obsetress: actually no

obsetress: she has cleaners but she's prob not satisfied and gets out her expensive vacuum she has no idea how to use and is clattering n making such a fuss

obsetress: and poor dani

em: she’s up and about rearranging things, she’s causing a ruckus,

obsetress: dani's like "you have just as bad insomnia as me and you're just... getting up? that early?"

obsetress: viola shrugs "i don't need that much sleep"

obsetress: "you do, though"

obsetress: she shrugs and disappears into the kitchen

obsetress: insomniac gf and insomniac gf

em: insomnia gfs

em: viola runs on like

em: supernatural element carrying over: viola is a little too good at running on no sleep and no one knows if she ages

obsetress: YEAH

em: i love a sorta, grounded real life show w like one or two unexplained ambiguously supernatural things that no one blinks at

obsetress: i was gonna be like

obsetress: i wonder what dani and viola do when theyre up not sleeping at night and then i was like

obsetress: Well,

obsetress: no they do that but they also do the most random borderline unhinged shit like

obsetress: dani tries new baking recipes and they sit on the countertop in their pjs or underwear or nothing and eat scones at three am

em: go for night drives

em: night drives aren’t even unhinged but they’re nice

em: but they don’t listen to music they listen to fucken podcasts

obsetress: that fuckin lorde song

[em note: it's supercut]

obsetress: they go to the roof and dani lays her head in viola's lap and stares at the stars while viola reads to her in french

obsetress: ugh i put it on oh god why did i put it on

[em note: it's still supercut]

obsetress: in my head.........

obsetress: i do everything right............

obsetress: when you call............

obsetress: i'll forgive and not fight.............

obsetress: ours are the moments.........i play in the dark OH MY GOD VI'S INSOMNIA AFTER DANI LEAVES AND SHES ALONE

em: ur a MONSTER

obsetress: i need to lay on the floor and put this song on repeat

obsetress: anyway um

obsetress: another thought from when i was thinking about the vacuum like

obsetress: viola has a degree of learned helplessness that all rich people have but she's not an idiot like the rest of them yknow and i think like

obsetress: she had to do a lot when she and perdita were kids!

obsetress: after her mom died

em: hannah......

obsetress: and then after her dad died before she married arthur and like

obsetress: then being a single mom (viola lloyd single mom i'm drooling) even w all the help she can afford

obsetress: she has a chip on her shoulder and Does Things For Herself but also just

obsetress: sometimes it happens! there's never enough time and never enough help!

obsetress: and she loves isabel so much like

obsetress: viola making isabel her lunches

obsetress: oh god

em: making her little lunches at like 2am bc it’s been a busy day and she’s tired and she’s sore and she’s sad but the one thing viola will never skip is like

em: making sure isabel gets her lunches

em: hey what is wrong with us

obsetress: GOD YEAH

obsetress: EXACTLY

obsetress: HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS THINKING ABOUT HER MAKING THEM AT TWO AM UGH

obsetress: anyway um yeah viola making isabel her lunches at two am

obsetress: i know that i wrote jamie leaving flora notes on her napkins but like

[em note: read 'and she taught me a lesson alright']

obsetress: i just think it's something a mom who really loves her kid and wants them to feel safe and okay would do so i want to say vi does it for isabel too!!! and what of it they're different universes it's fine

em: ur just building the hannah obsetress cinematic universe

em: building up some Themes and Motifs

obsetress: themes motifs and symbols

obsetress: anyway viola packing isabels lunches she writes little notes and puts on lipstick n kisses them

obsetress: so isabel can get a kiss from her mom

em: im going to kill u w my bare hands

obsetress: cut to vi in the bathroom wiping it off later à la jennifer check

em: im GONNA

obsetress: sometimes when vi has to go out of town for business or w/e she leaves a stack of napkins with arthur to put in isabel's lunch so she can still get a kiss from her mom even when she's gone

em: thats so extra??

em: its so viola

obsetress: exactly

obsetress: she definitely has a fear of isabel favoring arthur over her (abandonment issues etc etc)

obsetress: gestures at canon

—-

em: dani 'its casual' taylor

obsetress: leave the typo

obsetress: dont you dare change it

em: i need u to know that i DO fuck but

em: hgfngjkyhGJBJKFHD FUCK

em: ruined my own joke

obsetress: in the most spectacular way

em: dani 'i need you to know i DO fuck but im accepting offers' clayton

obsetress: she takes care to drop that like

obsetress: it's just casual SHE'S not anything serious. i'm not dating HER or anything

obsetress: jamie's like dani i know you're gay you literally stare at my lips every time i talk

em: dani getting off the phone and dramatically rolling her eyes like 'ex girlfriends, am i right? whats up with these women i-' and jamies like love i get it

obsetress: jamie raising her eyebrows "how many ex girlfriends do you have"

obsetress: dani's like "well, just the one, but"

em: but i COULD have more. if i wanted to. bc i am looking to date more women

em: jamies like ok cool

obsetress: jamie, a little too casually: oh? any, uh. prospects?

em: danis like (patented nervous dani lip bite) maybe but

em: jamies like drat

em: jamies like darn

em: and then she gets home and shes like

em: wait

obsetress: jamie calling dani back "when you said maybe"

obsetress: and dani immediately is like yEAH?

em: jamies like do you think you could ever be interested in me and danis like umm. yeah.

em: jamie hangs up like ok cool

em: long beat

obsetress: oh my GOD

em: REDIALS

---

obsetress: ok last thing i was gonna say

obsetress: i meant to say this earlier and got distracted a hundred times over

obsetress: but um imagine dani helping isabel with her english homework

obsetress: vi helping isabel with her math homework

em: ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

em: SOFT

obsetress: well,

em: oh no

obsetress: isabel needing help w her english homework post dani and vi's trying to help and vi's smart n all but

em: get HELP

---

em: dani 'hooking up w my ex is actually a v girlboss of me' is SO funny to me

em: when they get together danis like, oh but havent we all- and jamies like nooo i have very good boundaries

em: except for the perdi vi psychosexual power play ig

obsetress: moment of weakness

obsetress: who wouldn't want to hook up w their hot boss

—

obsetress: when dani goes up to london whatever weekend like friday night to get her closure dinner with vi

obsetress: boom haircut and therapy reveal

em: 3 day bender u say

obsetress: all of a sudden it's sunday night and

obsetress: YEAH

obsetress: they spend

obsetress: all fucking weekend

obsetress: in vi's bed

em: sighs dreamily

obsetress: dani playing with her hair

obsetress: "this is nice"

obsetress: "i'm gonna miss your bun though"

obsetress: vi's brain is short circuiting at "i'm gonna miss"

em: later danis like look. jamie. what would you have done? and jamie chokes on her beer and splutters 'not fuck my ex for 3 days straight?!'

obsetress: dani "well you've never fucked v–– oh wait"

obsetress: "you really can't blame me, jamie, you KNOW" jamie: (grumbles)its different... dani: well i mean i guess, technically, you didnt,

obsetress: unrelated in some bad fight at the end vi is like "you can't go isabel needs a–– you're like her–––" and dani's like "a what? say it" and viola's too stubborn and proud and hurt to say it

em: just perpetually bouncing back to the worlds angstiest break up

obsetress: i don't know WHY

obsetress: as someone who HATES ANGST

obsetress: i am so DRAWN to these two

em: its ummmm weirdly cathartic??

em: the whole exes au is based on a joke about them being friends and exes. we are v firm in like. viola and dani reconcile!

em: idk i love a catharsis moment! i love it when a character claws their way to happiness. or even begrudgingly goes to therapy

em: viola can go through a little hell as a treat

obsetress: turns out the only one who could fix her in the end

obsetress: was the one who said it's not my job to fix you

em: dani transformative power of (platonic) love

obsetress: "Platonic"

#the dani jamie viola rebecca exes au

4 notes · View notes

monstaxardeur · 4 years ago

Note

Dom Wonho love making !!

Warnings: Mature

It was late and the night was a little hot, the a.c was humming and you sank back in the chair reading the files and notes even though husband dearest told you not to since you often couldn't handle the court case stories. You both were a very empathetic couple and so Wonho often requested you to keep away so at least one of you had your sanity intact. This current case wasn't anything extreme, but slandering of women's characters by their significant others was so common, you made a disgusted face closing the file. "So that's where you snuck to." Wonho spoke standing by the door frame still in his dress pants and button down shirt with an extra button undone. "It's hot isn't it ", you teased and watched him smirk while having his flavored malt, your big guy never drank, he didn't like it one bit, you however indulged at times. "You didn't say anything about seeing me in the courtroom." He asked rather honestly, you paused and looked away taking a deep breath. Wonho finished his glass and set it down before asking concerned, "Was it something I said there?" You smiled and shook your head fiddling with a post it note "Oh no it wasn't anything like that, it just; you- I mean.." You stopped and walked over to him and he made a confused face because he was curious now about your strange behavior. "You looked hot." That's all you said while feeling your face go red as you hid your embarassed face in your palms and Wonho's face lit up at first, he found it so amusing. He playfully tried to get you to look at him reaching for your hands but you just face planted in his chest groaning at your silly remark. Wonho's soft whispers in your ear became low as he asked, "Well will you tell me, did I get you hot and heavy." You refused now more than ever to look at him, you could tell from his voice he wasn't your sweetheart husband right now. His tone and talking mode sort of changed to that domineering one he had in the court room today. He tipped your chin and you were met with his darkened gaze and that damned smile that made your knees weak. His arms snaked around you pulling you closer and locked you in his grip. He was waiting for you to speak, his thumb brushing over your pink pout, "I am waiting for an answer." He spoke extra slow, his index finger tracing a line between your neck and all the way till the neckline of your night shirt. You opened your mouth to whisper out a soft 'Wonho' but he took your lips in a rather bruising lingering kiss. It wasn't gentle like his usual self it was a tad bit rough, he continued to leave open mouthed kisses across your jaw and stopped to be extra slow over that weak spot in the hollow of your neck. You let out a whimper, hands running through his blond hair.

He was effortless when he lifted you and on cue you wrapped your legs around him. He didn't place you on the bed, no, instead he had you against the window in the pitch dark room, the barely there light that illuminated the room from the window clearly showed the floor length mirror that was right across you. You felt that knot in your belly as it coiled. "Like what you see?" he cocked an eye brow as he easily lifted your shirt over your head and kissed you more deeply. You struggled to get his shirt undone but you managed to catch a glimpse of the way the shirt was hanging off his shoulders in the mirror and you cursed, 'oh fuck!' Wonho was so smug in that moment he knew exactly what was happening. You spread your legs a little more and bucked your hips wanting to feel some friction through your soft cotton panties. "My baby is so impatient, did you want me to be stern with you? Like how you saw me this morning?" He pushed the fabric aside inserting his digits inside while his thumb made lazy circles on your bud. "Were you imagining me between your legs in the courtroom this morning?" You threw your head back hands clutching on to his undone shirt wanting more of his ministrations inside of you. With your neck exposed he found himself sucking marks on to you all the while his fingers pace increasing. Arching your back you felt yourself come undone letting out a soft slur of moans. He watched your head thrown back and you panting and he brushed your hair away from your face. "You're so sweet love, you taste so sweet." He whispered against your lips and you wrapped your arms around him, kissing him crazy and rushed to get his shirt off of him. He always had a proud feeling when he saw you break your restraints and become a spoiled mess asking him for more. He couldn't contain his grin like "I'm all yours sweetheart, I'll take care of you, I promise."

He picked you up and dropped you on the bed eventually. The way this man showered you with body worship had you sigh so deep in love, your hands tracing over his bare shoulder musceles as he discarded ur dainty undergarment. He latched himself on to your mounds and earned needy moans from you. You'd gotten tired of feeling just his clothed bulge and helped him out of his confines. If you were honest you loved being skin to skin with him, it felt intimate and you wondered if this feeling was normal or if it resonated with you two on a deeper level. As he'd stood to get rid of all article of clothing you gave his member a few strokes and watched him furrow his brows and scrunch his face. You left fluttery kisses over his torso before turning them into wet kisses. You slowed down on your strokes and he couldn't handle the teasing. Grabbing your wrists he pinned them over your head with one hand and hooked your leg with another. He'd aligned himself with you and bottomed out inside of you, the stretch making you a heap of moaning mess. He eventually let go off your hands and gripped your hips as he started moving with slow movements at first to find a rythm. With your head thrown back you could see him in the mirror, white knuckled grip leaving crescent indents into your skin as skin slapped against skin and the sight alone had you squirm from the building pleasure. You'd forgotten how vocal you'd become, your whimpering cries from euphoric bliss were driving Wonho off the edge. His eyes were lust hazed and watching himself disappear inside you made him groan. He let go off you and had you flip over on your front before moving in you again, his fingers threading in your hair and fisting them slowly making sure he's not gripping harshly, with gentle ministrations everywhere else and deep thrusts inside you, he picked up his pace. "Please don't stop.." You managed to mumble out face buried in the sheets. You were close and clutched onto the fabric beneath you. You suddenly felt his soft kisses over your shoulder, your skin burned and between your moans you mumbled his name endlessly in hushed whispers. He entwined his hands over yours as he rutted into you and grunted getting erratic. You came undone and convulsed from pleasure and he came right after, skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat. He stayed inside you for a while and buried his face in your neck hands wrapping around your frame in a needy embrace. He was your soft hubby again the one that loved you so sweetly and deeply. He kept planting soft kisses over your skin. When he pulled out, you turned in his arms to face him. You two shared lazy kisses while lying there bare and pleasured. "You're too sweet to me your honor." you joked and Wonho smiled silly planting another swift kiss and then buried his face in your chest. "You know I love you right?" he mumbled softly and looked up with puppy eyes at you. "You're an idiot but you're my idiot." he remarked on your cheesy joke further and buried his face again. He didn't see you gasp but then you smacked his head lightly, "That's my line." He only chuckled unphased by your smack.

After a moment of comforting silence you two dragged yourselves to change, you took this chance to steal his button down shirt. His phone could be heard faintly ringing from across the hallway and you asked as he put on his sweats, "Won't you come to bed?" He helped button up your shirt and planted a soft kiss on your temples, "I have work but you should rest." You nodded but stopped him briefly, "You know I love you too right?" and he clutched his heart in a playful manner.

Yeah he was definitely your idiot, a lawyer husband who had the softest heart and his love was as deep as the ocean, all for you.

#wonho #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #wenee #monsta x #lawyer husband

63 notes · View notes

vinylhazza · 5 years ago

Note

imagine sending ur nudes to e by accident omg the next day he’d be imagining you naked and eventually you two fuck🥵

oh my gosh you would be lounging around talking to your best girl friend or something, often times sending her your risqué photos when you’re feeling down about yourself. she always has the best hype up messages when you’re feeling like a swamp creature. you’re really just pacifying your boredom from being stuck inside for a ridiculously long amount of time - not wanting to go into the sweltering heat of the upcoming summer. you had a habit of overheating and making yourself sick.

usually you’re good at looking at the contact name before you send something so exposed to her, giving yourself the comfirmation before hitting send. but today just had to be the one day your finger hit the send button too fast, your eyes flicking up in panick mode to read “E ❤️” at the top of the screen.

fuck.

you’re sitting on your bed at this point hyperventilating, about to pass out, dizzy as hell, nauseous, genuinely not good. you’d never sent him anything like those pictures before. and that was the thing, it wasn’t just one it was several pictures of your naked body to your best guy friend. you’re very hot, best guy friend. you look over the set of photos you’d sent: you’re laying back on your bed in nothing but a pair of black lace panties, breasts on display, sunlight trickling across your abdomen and perky nipples, a golden glow touching your skin. the panties were honestly nothing but a piece of pathetic fabric that could be compared to dental floss - you know if you turned around you’re ass would be bare as it could be.

you never had any intention of sending them to anyone - as your not speaking to anyone romantically at the moment. truth is you’ve been hooked on a certain someone for a while. the same certain someone you just accidentally sent your nudes to. how convenient.

honestly i imagine him to be shell-shocked. maybe he was mid-conversation with grayson, unlocked his phone at your notification, and sat frozen and speechless while he stared down at the screen - your breasts sitting pretty for his eyes only. grayson would be pausing at his silence, questioning him on why he’s sitting there like he’s “waiting to catch flies” in his mouth. ethans cheeks would heat to an unbearable temperature, not believing what he’s seeing - his best friend - naked and biting the tip of her fingernail.

throuought both the day and night you hear no response from ethan, total dead silence. it made you more nervous than if we were to send back a simple “wrong number?” or “huh?” ...silence. did he like it? did he hate it? did he just not see it? you knew better than that judging at the read receipt that stared you in the face on the screen, only making you heart race faster.

it was a night of little sleep for the both of you, neither one knowing of the filthy thoughts running through the others head. ethan tossed and turned in his bed that night, knowing he would see you tomorrow for session with grayson. you’re a personal trainer, hence how you met and became so close with the twins. it had been a year since you started working with grayson, not really seeing the reason because he already was well off, as well as ethan. but you never made a complaint, helping and instructing anyway that you can. you became friends instantly, most of the time making it a hangout session rather than a trainer/trainee situation.

you had kept your eyes on ethan since the day you showed up at their house for the first session, breath caught in your throat when he opened up the door with a dazzling smile, lips stretched tight across his teeth. he was gorgeous, you wouldn't deny that. yes, grayson was handsome, and yes they were identical twins - but you fell in love with ethans heart quickly. nothing ever came from it, teasing, friendly banter. it was strictly friends. but you’d always felt something brewing beneath the surface, too scared to let him know you wanted something more. head over heels was an understatement. shit the guy couldn't even hug you without your heart doing flips inside of your head.

you’d given up hope about a month ago, bummed out that despite your subtle advances, he was a lost cause. he showed his love in his own way, trying his hardest to make you see he felt it, he felt all of it. lost in translation, your love was. the hugs became less frequent, the teasing still showed up, but less flirty. it broke him bit by bit until he finally accepted that he’d lost something he never really had in the first place. he backed off, tried to discipline himself to think of you as just a friend - until those pictures popped up on his phone.

there he was, laying in bed with his hand wrapped around himself, eyes glued to the picture of your perky breasts, god you were gorgeous. fuck the plan, he thought, tugging up and down his length with a tight fist - trying to keep quiet in fear of grayson hearing him. across town, you were doing the same - rubbing a hand at your mound, thinking of him thinking about you. you had no knowledge of it actually being true, but just the thought of him seeing you so exposed and dare you say sexy in a set of photos really did something to you.

the next day was terrifying for both of you, neither wanting to mention your little accident first, both wanted to play dumb and just hope it disappeared in time.

until you caught up watching you during your squats, not in a way he has ever before, his eyes were drinking you in. in a hungry way. not observant, not innocent, but dirty. you tried to ignore the wetness in between your thighs, keeping your eyes on grayson, watching his form, telling him to straighten up every so often, cracking a joke in hopes it would get ethan to stop staring at you and laugh along. but he kept his eyes focused on you, knuckles white on the edge of the bench he sat on.

okay, if he wants to stare, so will you.

turning your head to look at him was a bold move, his eyes focusing on your mouth instead of your chest - his bottom lip popping free from his teeth. was he, checking you out? he’d never been so bold about it before. you watched each other close while you continued your squats, eyes trained on his the entire time. you thanked the heavens you put your hair in a ponytail, it was far too hot in this gym and you knew you would look like a monster if your hair was any other way.

“okay...fuck...my legs feel like jello,” grayson giggles, plopping onto his butt after hitting just above 300 squats. you would never recommend doing that many, but he had a weird goal in mind, so you figured if he was going to do it, might as well help him doing it the correct and healthy way.

“mine too,” you agreed, sitting down yourself. with your face as red as ever with ethan’s eyes staring at you, you took a sip from your water bottle, smiling at the cold water traveling down your throat. it felt good to have a hard workout.

“I think i’m going to eat something before we go again, you want something?” grayson’s offering his hand to you, nodding when you shake your head to turn him down. if you ate now you might throw up from the nerves running like crazy through your body, your stomach a pit of butterflies. not the best idea to shove food into the mix.

“i’ll catch up with you in a bit,” ethan speaks up, watching his brother leave the room before turning his eyes back on you.

“so are we really gonna talk about it or are you just gonna stare at me like you've never seen tits before?” bold move.

“why did you send them to me? that is what I wanna know.” he ignores your question, coming back with his own.

“accident.”

“lie,” he challenges you with a cocky smirk, raising from his position on the bench,

“I meant to send them to Amanda, not you, don't get cocky,” you’re really testing the waters, knowing damn well everything spilling from your mouth is a load of bullshit. even Amanda, whom you told of your little mishap, screamed blood murder over the phone, insisting the mistake was in fact fate and not happenstance.

he’s still smirking, standing tall in front of you. he had been pretty much silent through the workout with grayson, off on his own most of the time. you didn't mind, knowing it was probably weird for him at least for now. so you let him be, focusing on grayson for the rest of the day. but this...this was new.

“you’re awfully bold for someone that showed no interest in me any other time,” you point out, shrugging like you made the most valid point ever.

“maybe you read the signs wrong babe.” that fucking pet name.

“i’m pretty sure I didn't. anyways why does it matter? it was a mistake and now we can forget about it and move on know that we’ve acknowledged it,” you nod to yourself. it seems fair considering you're about to burst into flames at how close he’s standing to you. you know deep down you’ll never be able to forget about it.

“I don't think I want to,” he mutters, his seductive tone taking your breath away. looking up at him, only caused your heart to beat faster, he looked serious. you’ve never heard his voice so calm.

“well...you have to. we are bestfriends,” you stutter, standing to your feet in an attempt to back away.

“best friends who like each other,” he drones on, keeping his eyes locked steady on yours.

“fat chance.”

“best friends who want to fuck each other...” he’s inching closer, grabbing at the bare skin of your waist to bring himself closer to you. you almost scream in surprised as his hand comes to clamp over your mouth, arm reaching behind you to crack the door open, staring into the hallway with that same devilish smirk.

“hey gray?!” he shouts, hand still cupped over your mouth. his other hand returns to your side, thumb rubbing back and forth across your skin. you’re surprised at the reaction from your body, your pussy clenching tightly around nothing, the aching becomes less bearable.

“yeah?” his voice echoes from down the hallway, sounding busy and disinterested.

“I think we are out of almond milk, you mind running to the store real quick? please?” his tone has switched to one you know well, the one he uses when he tries to manipulate his little brother into getting his way. you would swat at him if his fingers weren't dancing along the inside of your thigh right now, dangerously close to your clothed heat.

“why can't you?” grayson whines, still far enough down the hallway he couldn't see into the room. if he could...i’m sure he would be just as confused as you are.

“because I asked you,” he points out, chuckling at the annoyed groan he gets in return.

“you paying?”

“it’s not like we have the same bank account or anything fuck face. but you want to use my card it’s in my wallet on the counter. thank you bro.” with that he’s shutting the door, with his hand still moving between your legs, he removes his other from your mouth, instead wrapping it in your hair - loosening your ponytail.

“look at you...so small and innocent...like you didn't send me filthy pictures of you last night,” he hums, leaning close to kiss at your neck, “i bet you touched yourself at the thought of me looking at them huh?” he whispers hot in your ear, tongue poking out to lick at your lobe slowly, sucking it into his mouth before it pops free.

you are drenched, not registering the nod you give him, wanting to slap yourself for being so easy.

“so are we done pretending or do i need to convince you more? he won’t be gone forever.” his fingers cup your cunt through your leggings, rubbing his fingers across you to cause a friction that makes you tense in his arms, grasping at his biceps in shock. his hands feel much better than your own.

you realize how quickly you’re grabbing at the back of his neck too late, bringing him down to seal your lips together perfectly. the kiss is passionate, more passionate that it really should be for being so sudden. it was filled with longing and need, something you’ve been experiencing towards him for quite some time.

he is sighing against your lips, shuddering at how good your skin feels under his fingertips, hungry for more than just a kiss.

he’s growing frustrated quickly, stopping with a huff and holding your face close.

“i wanna talk, i do, about what the fuck is going on. but i can’t wait...need you now,” he explains, eyes never breaking away from your own. you understand his need perfectly, it matches with your own.

“we can talk later,” you nod at him, seemingly giving him the green light to pick you up by your hips with a squeal falling from your mouth. your back meets the semi-plush cushion of the bench press, staring up at your bestfriend hovering dangerously close to your face. he’s got this smile you’ve only ever seen a few times, when he’s so utterly happy he can’t contain himself. it makes you melt to think that this is one of those moments for him. with a quick peck to your lips, he’s lowering down onto his knees, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your leggings, pulling down slowly.

“for the meantime...gonna fuck you so good.”

#asks #e!concepts #ethan!concepts #this felt pointless and stupid #but i hope you like it #best friend to lover is my FAVORITE thing of life #if you want me to continue i can

144 notes · View notes

thebluenoteblog · 5 years ago

Text

Give me That Title

Summary: You have been hooking up with Colton for months and though you have feeling for him you’ve known since the beginning what your relationship with him is. You’re okay with it. You’re also okay with being perpetually single. That is until you meet someone that makes you want to date for the first time in a while. Though Colton’s reaction to hearing about your date... well that’s more surprising than the fact that you decided to go on a date in the first place.

Player: Colton Parayko

Word Count: 5.1k

*Inspired by Meghan Trainor’s Title*

I know girls ain’t hard to find

If you think you want to try

Than consider this an invitation

To kiss my ass goodbye

You were on the floor in front of your floor length mirror, with makeup spread out on the floor all around you when your phone buzzed. You paused with the mascara wand next to your eye, finished what you were doing, reinserted the wand into the tube, screwed on the cap and then picked up your phone already having a pretty good idea of who it was.

Colton had just gotten back in town from his road trip earlier that day and odds were he wasn’t in the mood to go out partying tonight. He wanted someone to come to him. The most recent notification on your phone, right above a few from the NHL app was indeed a text message from Colton. You had been his most regular hook up for the past seven months and at some point, in that time he had given you his phone number when he got tired of dealing with snapchat.

If you were being fair, the two of you did a lot of talking to. If someone were to scroll through your text messages they would never know that you were just some twenty-one-year-old girl who had gotten caught up in a lifestyle that you had no business in. They would probably think that you and Colton were friends. Friends who just hung out a lot late at night.

You unlocked your phone, opened the text and scanned the message. You busy?

You glanced up into the mirror, at your half-done makeup. Yes.

His response was fast, like he’d been waiting for it. No, really. Do you want to come over?

Okay, if you were being fair, it was a very rare occasion that you passed him up on an offer to come over. You always responded to his messages and you were basically at his beck and call. Your only serious obligation was your college courses. Your work hours were pretty much ‘come and go as you please’ and so you did. Whenever Colton asked. He knew when you were in class and he knew it wasn’t now.

Being tied to a man who had no intention of ever committing to you wasn’t a huge issue for you. Committing your time to him wasn’t either because he was gone so much and spent so many nights out with the team that you could still have friends and a life of your own. Besides, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t hooked up with a few other people in the beginning just as he had. You assumed he still did, but you didn’t bother anymore, the sex didn’t compare.

Then two weeks ago, you met Chase. You were sitting at a coffee shop on Main Street, enjoying your tea when he had walked in. He’d sat down on the couch beside you as he drank his coffee. He turned to you, stared at your Blues t-shit for a moment and then said, “Can you believe how badly the Blues got it handed to them last night?”

You’d spent two hours talking after that, about anything and everything. He’d asked you out. You’d given him your number. Now you sat in front of your mirror getting ready for the first real date you’d been on in over a year since you had broken off your engagement and sitting there, on that couch next to Chase, in his faded St. Charles County Firefighter t-shirt, you’d realized something.

This thing with Colton wasn’t enough anymore. You wanted a real relationship. Someone you could imagine a future with and not roll your eyes at yourself for being ridiculous. Someone who would really love you and not just love getting you naked. Someone who saw in you whatever it was that Chase saw that made his eyes light up when he talked to you that day.

You wanted someone who would someday ask you to marry them. You would buy a house together. Make one of those salt plaster ornaments with your first house key to put on the tree that you would decorate together every year. Build a fence in the backyard for your dog and your kids to run around.

Maybe that would be Chase, maybe it would be the next guy you went out with, or the next. Maybe you would find him a year from now. But you knew one thing for sure. No matter how much you wanted him to be, no matter how much you loved Colt, he was never going to be that guy.

He would never commit to a girl who looked like you.

Hell, you didn’t think he was ready to commit at all, despite how nice of a guy he was and his picture-perfect image. He enjoyed living it up, he enjoyed his parties, he enjoyed his bunnies. A girlfriend would cramp his style.

You glanced down at your phone and saw that ten minutes had passed, you needed to hurry up and get your makeup done and you still had Colton to deal with. I can’t. I’m going out tonight.

Again, he responded before you could pick up your mascara to finish your other eye, so he must not have been doing anything. He was probably laying on the couch watching TV. Oh. Are you going out with (Y/F/N)?

You didn’t really think about what you were typing before you just hit send, you just did it and then dropped your phone before going back to your makeup. This time you finished all of your eye makeup and were on to your lips when your phone eventually buzzed.

It wasn’t until you picked it up that you read what you had sent him and actually felt a little bad. You knew you both saw other people. You knew you weren’t a couple and you were both free to do whatever you wanted, but neither of you ever made a point of talking about it. You only knew about it his exploits from the girls who bragged about it online and occasionally posted pictures of them together to corroborate their stories. No, (Y/F/N) is out of town. I have a date tonight.

He’d responded five minutes later with. You have a date?

You glanced at the message, not sure how to respond at first then decided on simply, Yeah, he’s really nice.

The dots appeared and then disappeared about five times before they stayed long enough for him to type out his response. You never go on dates.

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to a guy in the NHL to think he had a girl locked down because she didn’t go on other dates for a little while even though he was still fucking other people. I decided that I want something real. Is that so bad?

You finished your makeup and made it out to your car before he responded. I guess not.

If it ain’t no thing

Then I won’t be hangin around

But don’t be blowin up my shit at three am

Sayin how you need me now

You had now been out on two dates with Chase and Colton had coincidently texted asking you to come over as you were walking out the door to get into Chase’s truck the night you went out with him for the second time. He’d taken your rejection slightly less… diplomatically this time which was uncharacteristic for him. You’d only turned him down a handful of times, but you could never remember him being upset. He’d always continued to talk to you until one of you got too busy to hold up the conversation. This time though, he was clearly upset.

Can you come over? I have food that I shouldn’t be eating that you would love.

You smiled when you read the message, because it almost sounded like he was inviting you over for a date even though you knew that wasn’t what it was. You could still dream. Then you remembered that outside your apartment complex, Chase was waiting for you.

I’m sorry, I’d love to but I’m busy tonight. Raincheck?

He’d responded quickly like he didn’t even think about what he was saying before he said it, Big date tonight?

You narrowed your eyes at the phone. What’s that supposed to mean?

You waited for his response before you walked outside into the bitter February air. Nothing. I just wanted you to come over.

Now it was three in the morning and you were lying in bed, trying to fall asleep. Still thinking about how uncharacteristically spiteful Colton had been that night. Then your phone went off for the first time. You ignored it, because, well, it was three in the morning. But then ten minutes later it went off again. And five minutes after that it went off again. Not five minutes passed before there was another. Then soon after another alert. Finally, you sat up in a huff, grabbing the phone off your bedside table and unlocking it to see the notifications.

All messages from Colton and he appeared to be drunk. Very drunk.

(Y/N) r u home

i miss u

u should com over

r u still with him

u should be here instead

You squeezed your eyes shut then opened them to make sure you were reading the messages correctly. Is that why he had been so spiteful that night? Was Colt… jealous? You couldn’t go over to his house now, because regardless of what you suspected, nothing had changed. He wasn’t going to commit to you. He wasn’t going to give you that house together or the Christmas tree with the first key ornaments or the kids running around in the backyard. It just wasn’t in the cards for them. Besides, he was drunk off his ass right now. He would never, in a million years send u or r in place or you or are if he wasn’t well past the legal limit.

Colton, go to sleep. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.

The dots appeared right away but it took him awhile to type the message.

i no wht im saying i miss u com over ur with him arnt u

It took you a moment to decipher the message but when you did, you sighed and responded carefully. Colt, I’ve been home since 10:00. I can’t come over, its already three in the morning and you’re so drunk you’ll be passed out by the time I get there. You won’t even be able to let me in.

He didn’t like that answer. ill take a shower to sober up before u get here

Colton.

fine goodnight

You sighed again, Goodnight Colt.

Don’t call me boo

Like your some kind of ghost

If you don’t want me seeing other guys,

Then here’s what you need to know

Come stay tonight.

It was just those three words. The team was leaving for a road trip and they had the next day off. You had always in the past cleared your schedule on those days for him if he asked you to. The two of you would stay in bed all day, you would cook for him when you got hungry and he would leave for the roadie the next day relaxed and happy. This had started off as an occasional arrangement but had become a routine and now almost every time he had a day off in town, this was the plan.

You cleared your schedule.

When you got to his house with your overnight bag, you had just knocked on the door when it opened. He was standing there looking perfect as ever in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, but his hair wasn’t styled like usual. It was tousled and limp like he’d been running his fingers through it enough to destroy whatever effect the gel had previously had on it.

He stepped to the side to let you in and closed the door behind you as soon as you were out of the way. He turned to face you, “I’m sorry… about the other night.”

You shrugged, not meeting his eyes, continuing to face the living room. You didn’t want to talk about this. You knew your time together was limited. This may very well be the last time they spent a night together before you had a boyfriend and you had to end… whatever this was. you didn’t want to spend it talking about what he’d said two nights ago and how he hadn’t meant it. How he was just drunk. “It isn’t a big deal.”

You slipped off your shoes, leaving them by the door. You always felt weird wearing shoes in his house, everything was so much more expensive than what you were used to. You walked away from him before he could say anything else, placing your bag on the couch and then leaning against the back of it and turning to watch him. He was frozen in place, staring at the spot you had previously been standing. After a minute he shifted his eyes to you and made his way into the living area.

He stood directly in front of you, with his hands in his pockets. He looked unsure for the first time since you’d met him, and you couldn’t quite figure out why. “I made dinner.” He said. “It’s almost ready.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “You made us dinner?” You asked. “I always make dinner.”

“I know…” He said, he shifted, looking over her head at something in the distance, “I just thought… I don’t know. It was an early game and I got home at seven… I don’t mind cooking, so why not?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, I guess I just figured I would be cooking for you tonight.”

He looked down at you, meeting your eyes and smiling softly, “You don’t always have to do stuff like that. You can just come over and relax with me.”

Something was off. Colton was a nice guy. He was an amazing guy. But this was so far out of left field for your relationship that you didn’t know what you were dealing with. Then again, that’s how everything with him had been since the day you told him you were going on a date. He’d make sure to mark you up with hickeys everywhere when you hooked up the couple of times it had happened since. He was usually rough, but he never was one to leave dozens of hickeys all over you. Maybe one or two, nothing like that. His sideways remarks. Drunk texts. Now this?

You were in love with him. You had been for a long time and you knew it. Hell, you’d known when you let this start that you would fall in love with him. He was just the kind of guy you couldn’t help falling in love with. That’s why he had girls falling at his feet. He was a twenty-six-year-old professional hockey player, rich, attractive, with a great personality and he could have any girl he wanted. You never had any illusions that you would be the one to lock him down. Hell, at the time you weren’t even looking for a relationship. You were running from one.

But when he looked at you and said things like that, things like you can just come here to relax with me, it made you angry. Because you were in love with him. And when he said things like that and sent you a string of drunk texts at three in the morning, it gave you this irrational hope that he cared about more than just your pussy.

There was no way though.

And even if he did, did you want that life?

Constantly worrying about whether or not your boyfriend was with some other girl because he could have whoever he wanted? Always feeling like you weren’t good enough for him? Never being able to contribute equally to the household? Would he ever actually marry you even if he did date you? No. Probably not. You weren’t NHL wife material. Not pretty enough or classy enough.

But you smiled at him and pretended this battle wasn’t going on in your head and said, “Why don’t I help you finish cooking? I’m starving.”

After you ate, an amazing meal as it turned out Colton was actually quite the cook, when you made to help him with the dishes he turned around and set you on the island behind him, effectively banishing you from the soap. “I always help.” You protested.

“I’ve got it, (Y/N).” He said, his back muscles working as he washed a pot. “Just sit there and look pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, “As if that’s possible.” He turned to look at you over his shoulder, narrowed eyes and you bit your lip before responding, “Sorry, did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah. Don’t say it in your head either.” Then he went back to the dishes.

After the dishes were clean you expected to end up in the bedroom, but instead he guided you to the couch and handed you the remote, “What do you want to watch?”

You stared at the remote for a moment, then looked back at him. “I don’t know. I only watch movies in the theaters and I don’t think you’d like any of the shows that I watch.”

He frowned, “You only watch movies in theaters?”

“I don’t have the attention span to watch them unless I’m forced.” You said, “I’ll do anything to get out of it. Write, sleep, read, sex. Anything except watch the movie unless it’s a favorite and I’m in the mood to watch it. Which I’m not.”

“Okay, you like the Flames, right?” He asked. You nodded, “They’re playing now. Want to watch that?”

You smiled up at him, “That sounds awesome.”

By the time the game ended, you were curled into his side with his arm wrapped around you and you were ranting about every missed call while going on about Tkachuk’s game winning overtime goal. “Are you like this when you watch us play?” Colton asked, with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t identify and a smile on his face.

“Oh, I’m worse.” You said laughing and shaking your head, “When I lived with my sister she used to get so mad at me on nights you played late games because I would wake her up yelling at the TV.”

Colton placed a hand on your cheek and moved in. He pressed his lips to yours the same why he had so many times before, but this time if felt different. The kiss was long and slow and there were no hands pulling at clothes. One of his remained spanning your cheek and neck and the other rested on your waist, holding you in place. Your hands, after the initial shock of the randomness of the kiss wore off, went up to his shoulders. He pulled you closer like he was afraid you were about to push him away, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t. You didn’t know if you knew how.

Especially not after the way this kiss made you feel.

You were the one to separate your lips, resting your foreheads together. Neither of you spoke for a stretch of time and the only sound filling the room was the Flames postgame in the background. Eventually he broke the silence. “I don’t like you dating other people.”

“Colton…” You said, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t want to hear this. You didn’t want him to tell you how he didn’t like seeing you with other people, but you could never be his. It wasn’t something you wanted to hear and if he said it… well if he said it you were going to have to get up and leave. You were going to have to end this.

“Please listen to me,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper but their faces were so close that you had no trouble picking up his words. “It hurts thinking about you dating someone else. It hurts thinking that I’m so close to losing you and if you don’t want me to stop you then there isn’t anything I can do about it.”

You pulled your forehead away from his and leaned back a little, looking at his hardwood floors, “Colton I can’t just be some girl that you call when you want to screw for the rest of my life.” You said it softly, but the words were harsh and he cast his eyes at the floor along with you, “I want something real. I want someone who is going to take me out on dates. We buy each other birthday presents. Set up a Christmas tree together every year. Have dreams of a future with each other in it. Someday I want a house with a backyard full of kids and a husband playing with them. I can’t have that if all I am is another girl who you mess around with but never want anything more from.”

When you were done he looked up at you and your eyes met. Before you could look away, he said, “But what if I want all of those things with you? What if I want something real too?”

Tears sprung to your eyes. Why was he doing this? Why couldn’t he just let you walk away when it was easier because you thought he would never love you. “Colt I don’t know if I’m cut out for that life. I’m just some girl who got caught up in a lifestyle she had no business being part of.”

“What’s so bad about it?” He asked, looking a little panicked. Like he hadn’t actually accepted the possibility of you walking away tonight for good. “Why couldn’t you date me?”

You shook your head, “I’ve been around your friends. They party. They drink. And athletes… they cheat. I know it’s a stereotype, but I would always be worried about it. Especially since the entire time we’ve known each other you’ve had the ability to just… do whatever you want. Besides the fact that I’m not pretty enough to ever be seen in public with you.”

Colton looked genuinely offended, “I don’t cheat. I never have, and I never will. I was raised better than that.” He placed a hand on your chin and forced you to look into his eyes, “And you are beautiful. I would take you everywhere. You would be all over my Instagram even.”

You blushed, “Colt…”

“(Y/N), give me a chance.” He said. “I messed up. I didn’t realize I was in love with you until someone else was already doing a better job at what should have been my job than I was. Please, let me fix it.”

You studied his face, trying to decide if he was serious. Trying to decide if you should give up what you saw in Chase for what you knew was there in Colton. There were obstacles, many of them, but if he was that determined to make it work then you would give it a try too.

“Okay, we can give it a real shot.”

I’m lovin’ what you got

But I’m hating what you doing

You gotta show me off, off

If you embarrassed,

Then thats the case I’m long gone

You’d been officially dating for four months now and things were going great. He knew how you felt about him going out drinking with the guys, so when he went, he invited you along. There were no more bunnies bragging about their conquest with him online, in fact they were beginning to suspect that he had settled down with someone. You were at every home game wearing his jersey with the other wives and girlfriend and even flown out to one of the away games. Pictures of the two of you together started appearing online, especially on websites that people used to track the habits of players and the speculation started.

Did Colton Parayko have a girlfriend?

The thing was, he wouldn’t confirm anything. People would tweet him, asking him about it. Nothing. People would message him on Instagram asking him about it? He ignored them. He posted a picture of himself with your dog on his Instagram and the comments were filled with the same question.

Do you have a girlfriend?

Is that your girlfriends’ dog?

Did your girlfriend take that picture?

Still he didn’t respond to any of them. You were beginning to wonder if it was because he was regretting his decision to enter a relationship with you. Was that what the issue was? Was he embarrassed of you? He’d promised that you would be all over his Instagram, but he hadn’t even let you tag them in a picture together. Did he wish he’d found someone more conventionally beautiful?

You were scrolling through a speculation post when he sat down beside you on the couch. “What are you reading?” He asked, looking over your shoulder.

You quickly locked your phone and dropped it into your lap, “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

He narrowed his eyes at you playfully, “I know your password and my arms are longer than yours.”

You sighed, “Why haven’t you gone public with our relationship?” You asked.

He looked caught off guard, “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t posted any pictures of us. You haven’t answered when anyone asks about us.” You looked away from him and down at the phone you were twisting in your hands. “If you’re embarrassed of me just tell me. We can end this.”

“No!” He said it before the words had even died on your tongue, “Of course I’m not embarrassed of you.”

You still didn’t meet his eyes, because honestly, you didn’t believe him. “Colton…”

“(Y/N),” He said, “I’ll post pictures of you right now. I’ll tweet out a response to the next person who asks me. I’m not embarrassed, why would I be? I didn’t know it was that big of a deal to you or I never would have kept it a secret. I just don’t like my private life to be all over the internet.” He grabbed your hand and pulled your phone away, setting it aside before taking your hand in his. “Please believe me.”

You looked up into his eyes and all you saw was love. He looked so genuine. How could you not believe him? “Okay,” you said. “I believe you.”

“We don’t have to keep it a secret,” He said, “I love you. I don’t care if people know.”

You smiled up at him, “I would like that.”

Give me that title, title

Come on give me that title, title

Better give me that title, title

Better give me that title, title, yeah

They’d been together for two years now and they had come a long way from the day that Colton had sworn she was going to walk out his front door and end up in the arms of another man. As she sat on her towel with her toes dug into the sand next to him, glass of wine in her hand, staring at the sun setting over the ocean, he couldn’t believe that he’d ever come close to letting that happen.

The words she spoke that day stuck in his mind every single day since she said them. Someday I want a house with a backyard full of kids and a husband playing with them. They already bought each other birthday presents and set up a Christmas tree together every year. They talked about their future together every day. But that was something that he hadn’t given her yet.

She was so distracted by the sunset that she didn’t notice him set his wine glass on the small table between them, low to the sand, before reaching into the beach bag, into the zippered back pocket that she never would have had a reason to open and pulling out the small velvet box. He settled back onto his towel with the box in his hand, but kept his eyes focused on her.

He’d had the whole moment planned out, but now that they were here, and he was holding the ring and she was sitting next to him, it was like he had never planned a thing.

He shifted to his knees so that he was facing her, and that action was enough to pull her away from the sunset. She turned to him with a smile on her face so genuine that it made his heart swell. “What’s that look for?” She asked, “You should be watching the sky, it’s beautiful.”

“I’d rather watch you.” He said, and her cheeks flushed. Whether it was from the tropical heat or his words he didn’t know. He kept the box hidden under his hand as he said, “(Y/N), the day we decided to be together, you said something. You said that someday you wanted a husband and kids and an entire life with someone.” He looked down at his hand which still hid the ring, then back up at the most important person in his life who was looking at him with wide eyes, like she wanted to believe what was happening but didn’t quite want to get her hopes up. He lifted the hand that wasn’t concealing the ring and used it to guide her into standing up. She rose to her feet, burying them in the sand.

He rose to one knee and finally reveled the box, snapping it open, “I want that to be me. I want that life with you. I’m ready for it. If you say yes, I promise that we’ll have a house with a huge backyard and a fence and a swing set for our kids to play on. We’ll be the family that you always wanted to have. So, (Y/N), will you marry me?”

She was completely in shock, staring at him like she couldn’t believe a single word he had just said had actually come out of his mouth. But it had, and as soon as she realized that, she answered him. “Of course, I will!”

He slid the ring on her finger, tossed the box on the towel beside them and then was up and twirling her in the air in a second. Yes, they had come a long way in the past two years. And god was he glad they had.

#colton parayko #colton parayko imagine #colton parayko imagines #nhl imagines #hockey imagines

308 notes · View notes

splendidlyimperfect · 4 years ago

Text

we are unbreakable - chapter 16 [a surprise visit]

It’s been thirteen years since Natsu and Gray met in a program for troubled youth - since they both fell apart and helped put each other back together. Now they’re married and happy, loving each other and the shared family they found. But the past doesn’t always stay past, and when the things that broke them come back into their lives, Natsu and Gray have difficult decisions to make - ones that could change their lives forever.

Chapter Summary: Gray visits Neelan in rehab.

Chapters (16/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 Rating: Mature Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Rogue Cheney, Sting Eucliffe, Freed Justine, Laxus Dreyar, Wendy Marvell, Chelia Blendy, Ultear Milkovich, Lyon Vastia, Lucy Heartfilia, Cana Alberona, Original Characters, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aged-Up Character(s), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Married Couple, Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Drug Addiction, Mental Health Issues, Foster Care, Family Issues, Grief/Mourning, Childhood Trauma, Bipolar Disorder, Adoption, Families of Choice, Nonbinary Character, Trans Character, Genderfluid Character, Forgiveness, Absent Parents, they're really in love but are sometimes dumb, Natsu is a stubborn shit Series: Part 15 of the only hope for me is you, Part 3 of if you jump i'll break your fall

-----

Sunshine Health Recovery Center looked more like a luxury condo than the hospital Gray had been expecting. It was a long, squat building with brick siding and floor-to-ceiling windows, and the gravel parking lot out front had a path leading down to the beach. The ocean lapped against the sand under a bright blue sky, and it calmed some of Gray’s nerves as he parked the car and turned off the engine.

He glanced down at his phone, smiling at the lock screen photo. Natsu had changed it a while back to a picture of the two of them at the top of La Grande Roue on their anniversary. Gray was smiling at the camera, but Natsu wasn’t looking, instead kissing Gray on the cheek.

A text from Natsu popped up on the screen and Gray swiped it open. It was a selfie of Noah and Natsu at the playground, both sticking out their tongues that were bright purple from the popsicles they were eating.

Natsu [13:47] love you snowflake, call me when ur done ok? kick my dad in the shins if hes an asshole. noah says hi and hugs & kisses xoxo

Gray smiled, sending back a quick love you, too before putting his phone back into his pocket and opening the car door. He stood and stretched, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and sand. Then he turned to stare at the front door of the building and the letters painted above it in a bright, cheery yellow.

He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then headed inside.

“You must be Gray!” The woman at the front desk – Rebecca, Gray assumed – gave him a cheery smile when he walked up. “I’ll just get you to sign in here, Neelan’s down in the common room.”

The hallway past the admin desk led to a large, open area filled with chairs, couches, and tables covered in books and board games. Neelan was sitting at one of the tables, rolling a stress ball between his hands. Gray hesitated, hovering by the door and watching him. It was so easy to see Natsu in him – they had the same eyes. Eventually Gray took a deep breath, then made his way across the room and slid into the chair across from Neelan.

“Hey.”

Neelan looked up, eyes widening in surprise, and the ball rolled away from him and bounced to the floor. Gray leaned down and picked it up, turning it in his fingers a few times.

“What are you doin’ here?” Neelan’s voice was rough, and he looked down at the table, scratching at an invisible mark in the wood.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Gray admitted. “I got your call.” He rolled the ball across the table and Neelan caught it before it bounced away again. An awkward, charged silence hung between them. Neelan looked up at Gray eventually, eyes filled with regret.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“Is Natsu…?” Neelan trailed off, picking at his fingernails as he glanced over Gray’s shoulder.

Gray shook his head. “He’s not ready to see you right now.”

Neelan nodded, face tight and eyes downcast. “Why are you here, then?”

Gray ran his hand through his hair, looking pensively at Neelan and trying to figure out what to say.

“I was in court a couple days ago,” he said eventually. “At a parole hearing for my brother. He’s been in jail for fourteen years.”

“What’d he do?” Neelan asked.

“Drugs,” Gray replied. Neelan winced, squeezing the ball tightly between his hands. “He made a lot of mistakes,” Gray continued. “Hurt me really badly. Almost killed me, actually.” Gray could see Neelan searching him for signs of what had happened, and he shook his head. “It’s a long story and I don’t want to get into it. But when I saw him in court…”

He paused, looking around the room. It was empty except for them and one of the staff who was sitting at a table near the door. The large window on the other side of the room looked out onto a small garden, and as Gray watched, a flock of sparrows burst from one of the trees and took off into the sky.

“I forgave him,” Gray said. Neelan frowned. “It took me a really long time to see that what he did happened because he was in a lot of pain. It was awful, and it hurt like hell, but it doesn’t mean he’s a monster.” Gray looked straight at Neelan and added, “And neither are you.”

Neelan dropped his face into his hands and took a shaky breath. The gesture was so familiar – so Natsu – that it almost hurt.

“I didn’t want to be right about you,” Gray said softly. “All I’ve ever wanted is for Natsu to be happy, and he missed you so much. He just wanted his dad in his life.” Gray nudged Neelan’s foot under the table. “What happened?”

Neelan sighed, rubbing his eyes and staring at the table. “I didn’t know Becca was pregnant until she went into labor and called me,” he said. “We weren’t together. And then after Natsu was born, it was just… she couldn’t be a mother. She tried on and off for a couple years, but it was too much. She ended up leaving town with some new guy, OD’d after a while.” Neelan chewed his lip and looked up at Gray. “You ever heard a baby cry that’s coming off meth? It’s the most heartbreaking sound. Natsu—fuck, he was so little. He’d have fit in my hand when he was born.”

“He had these seizures ‘til he was ‘bout six months old,” Neelan continued. “Scared the shit out of me. I thought he was gonna die, and… I mean, I never wanted a kid. My dad was a piece of shit and I thought I’d turn out like him. But the first time I held my son, I wanted to be better. For him.”

Gray thought of the picture of Neelan in the hospital, looking down at baby Natsu with eyes full of love. “So why did you leave?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

“I wish I could give you a good answer,” Neelan said sadly. “I tried; I really did. I visited him all the time. We read books together and he loved it, and he’d sit on my lap and laugh, and it made me feel like the most important person in the world. The foster parents always told me what a hellion he was, but I didn’t care. He was mine and I loved him so much.”

Neelan’s wistful smile disappeared as he looked up at Gray with a heartbroken expression. “I just couldn’t be who he needed,” he said. “When it was good – god, it was perfect, and I was sure he was gonna come home with me, and we’d be a family together. But then it got low, and I couldn’t – I wasn’t safe. Didn’t know how to deal, and drugs made it easy, and then…”

He trailed off and Gray’s heart twisted as the pieces fell into place. He studied Neelan for a moment, then said, “Natsu has it, too.”

Neelan’s eyes widened. “You mean…”

“Bipolar disorder.”

Neelan swore. “Of all the things he could’a got from me, had to be that.”

Gray nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s been really, really hard for him. He hesitated, then added, “And for me.”

Neelan’s expression made Gray feel like he was back in the hospital with Natsu, the year after they’d gotten married and Natsu had relapsed, hard. It was the eyes – they both had the same dark, scared, uncertain look.

“I love Natsu more than anything in the world,” Gray said, playing with his wedding band. “And his story is his to tell you, if he wants to, but I think…” Gray sighed. “He had a really, really shitty time, and yeah, some of that’s your fault. He’s had a lot of times where he thought he couldn’t make it. But he’s still here, and he’s doing so well, and I’m so, so proud of him.”

“He’s better than me,” Neelan said, eyes wet. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“That’s the thing,” Gray said. “He has what you didn’t – support. Friends. A family. And when he didn’t have that, things went bad.” The memory of Natsu bleeding out on the floor of the supply closet popped into Gray’s mind.

“I’m glad he has you,” Neelan said. “I dunno what I’d do if he turned out like me. I guess that’s why I never came back, y’know? I thought other people could take better care of him than me. An’ then… god, thinkin’ somebody hurt him.” He swallowed, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are,” Gray said. “And I think Natsu knows, too. You’re going to have to be patient, though, and give him some time. He might never be ready. He’s really hurt and disappointed, and I’m not letting you off the hook for that. But…” Gray paused, thinking of Lyon’s face when Gray had said I love you. “I think you can be better. You’re getting another chance, like Natsu did. And even with all the shit he went through, he’s done amazing things.”

Gray pulled out his phone and opened his photos, flipping to one of Natsu at the playground with Noah. Neelan’s expression softened as he took the phone carefully from Gray and gazed at Natsu’s face.

“That’s our friend’s son,” Gray said. “His parents were addicts, too. He sees his mom, sometimes, but he’s got a good home now, and great dads. He’s a bit of a handful, but Natsu is amazing with him because he gets it, and Noah’s improved so much over the past couple years.”

“He looks so happy,” Neelan said quietly. “Natsu, I mean.”

“He is,” Gray said. “He’s amazing with kids, even with all the trauma – sometimes because of the trauma. So you can’t use that as an excuse to not be his dad.”

Gray gestured for Neelan to keep scrolling through the photos – Gray had saved all his favorites just for this. One was of him and Natsu at their wedding, looking out over the ocean. Another was of Natsu carrying Sylvie on his shoulders after her first day of kindergarten. There were pictures from Christmas with grand-maman and grand-papa, Thanksgiving at Freed and Laxus’ place, summer days at the park with Sting and Ryos and the kids.

Neelan flipped through them slowly, and when he got to the last one, he stared at it for a long time. Natsu was sitting in front of a Christmas tree with four-year-old Sylvie in his lap. He was holding a book in front of them, and Sylvie was snuggled up against him, almost asleep against his chest. The look on Natsu’s face was soft and open, and the memory made Gray smile.

“That was our first Christmas together,” he said. “Sylvie – our niece – was four, and she adored Natsu as soon as she met him. She’s seventeen now, and he’s still her favorite person.”

A small smile crossed Neelan’s face, then disappeared as he looked closer. Natsu’s sleeve was pushed up in the photo, and the bandage on his forearm from his suicide attempt was visible.

“Did he…” Neelan looked up at Gray with a grief-stricken look on his face. “He didn’t. Please tell me he didn’t.”

“That’s his story,” Gray said gently. “He’ll tell you when – if – he’s ready. I wanted you to see that because it was his first real Christmas, the first time he’d had a family since you left.” He took the phone back from Neelan and looked at the picture with a small smile on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” Neelan said, voice full of regret. “You both have every right to hate me, and I know Natsu doesn’t want to hear from me right now.” He picked up the stress ball and started to play with it again. “I should have done this—” he gestured around them “—a long time ago, but I didn’t really have a reason to get better until I met you two. And even if Natsu never talks to me again, I’m gonna get sober.”

Gray’s hand unconsciously moved to the letter that he still kept in his pocket. It was so long ago that Freed had read out nearly the same words from Lyon.

I know there’s nothing I can do to repair things. I’m going to be in here for a long time, and that is entirely my own doing. It’s probably for the best. I’m clean now, for what it’s worth. It makes the past clearer, though, and I can’t overlook the terrible things I’ve done.

“Natsu might never be ready,” Gray said, watching Neelan’s expression shift from relief to regretful acceptance. “But I didn’t think I’d ever forgive my brother, either. I can’t make any promises, but Natsu has the biggest heart of anyone I know, and if any person would be able to forgive you, it’s him.” Gray tapped the table and gestured around them. “This is a good start. You need help, and you need other people.” He thought of the first time he’d met Natsu, when he’d been angry and scared and convinced he was better off alone. “We all do.”

Neelan nodded, playing with the hospital bracelet around his left wrist. The two of them sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of birdsong outside the open window and watching the light play across the floor as it filtered through the trees. Eventually Gray’s phone buzzed, and he looked down to see a message from Freed.

“I have to go,” he said, standing up and tucking his phone into his back pocket. “My friend is waiting for me.”

Neelan pushed himself up as well, leaving the stress ball on the table and shoving his hands into his pockets. He kept his gaze on the floor. “Thank you,” he said gruffly. “I’m sorry again. I’m gonna do better.”

“I know,” Gray said. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should shake Neelan’s hand, then decided against it and took a step back toward the door.

“Thanks for seeing me.” Neelan looked up at Gray again, giving him a small half-smile. “And thanks for taking care of Natsu.”

Gray nodded and ran his thumb over his wedding ring. “Always,” he said softly. Then he gave Neelan a wave and said, “Good luck,” before heading back down the hallway and out the doors, into the bright summer sun.

#fairy tail #gratsu #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #fanfic #ft fanfic #fairy tail fanfiction #the only hope for me is you #we are unbreakable #new chapter #update #my fic

4 notes · View notes

descendantofthesparrow · 5 years ago

Text

Encore - part of your world - Harry Hook x reader - part 8 - Uma

---

“Hey (y/n)?” Uma called from her chair at the kitchen island, you turned from the pancakes humming to show you were listening “do you think I could come with you and harry to your world?”

You paused, locking your jaw in thought. “I…I don’t know? I would think you would need an anchor like I do” you gestured to your ruby necklace “because my world doesn’t have magic so you could possibly be in danger while your there?” uma hummed, poking a lone strawberry.

“that’s true, maybe we can call kore and ask her?” you shrugged, flipping Gil’s set of chocolate chip pancakes.

“maybe, KORE!” a swirl of teal, fuschia magic appeared and dissipated, leaving the spring goddess in its place.

“yes?” she asked, eyeing the pile of pancakes in the oven “is the something you need?”

“yep~” you chirped, shoveling Gil’s pancakes into the oven to keep warm “we were wondering if uma needed an anchor to visit my world?”

“well yes” kora muttered, stealing an apple “as she is mostly a magic-based being, unlike harry who isn’t, she would need something withholding magic to keep her energy and life force up, like her shell necklace”

You and uma nodded, uma lifting the necklace from her chest “so I could use this as my anchor?”

Kore nodded, smiling when you finally handed her a plate, giving in to her eyeing the pancakes.

“precisely, now, im going to go enjoy these, I will return the plate”

*poof* in a swirl of smoke she disappeared

You snorted, yelling out to the two still sleeping boys.

“BOYS! BREAKFAST IS READY!” you heard two thumps, the signs of the two taller boys falling off their beds and scrambling to get downstairs if the rapid thumps down the upstairs hallway was a told you anything.

“pancakes!” Gil appeared first, slightly drooling and hair a mess. you opened the oven, piling his five chocolate chip pancakes onto a plate, sliding it onto the counter for him to take.

“thanks (y/n)!”

“no prob”

Harry trudged down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and yawning “morning sleepy head” you teased, he hummed, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you, burying his face into your neck, pressing his lips to it.

“mor’nin” he muttered, rubbing his nose into your hair “pancakes?” you sniggered, leaning away from him, scrunching your shoulder and chin together.

“y-yes, st-stap!” harry had realized what he was doing and began to blow raspberries into the crook of your neck. You dissolved into laughter, wriggling about trying to escape his grasp.

“harry staaaaap!!!” you felt him grin as he tightened his grasp on you, beginning to move his fingers against your sides.

“noooooo-aahhhH!!!” you screeched, reaching out to uma who was ignoring you.

“uma halp!!!” she continued to ignore you, eating her pancakes. “ill buy you ice cream!” she locked eyes with you, smirking.

“three scoops, extra hot fudge and caramel and rainbow sprinkles”

“de-deal!!!” uma flung her hand out, pushing harry away form you, letting you catch your breath.

“t-thank you” you were still slightly giggling, one hand on the counter, the other on your stomach

“ice.cream” uma said slowly, you nodded, reaching out your hand and shaking hers.

“yeah yeah, I know, for dessert tonight”

“alrigh’ “ Harry sat up from the floor, grabbing a plate and opening the oven door, naturally extracting two pancakes. “wha’ time do yeh want teh head back love?” harry asked, spreading butter on his food.

“well” you stared, opening your phone and looking at your schedule “auntie put me in for 12-9 today so I guess…10?”

Harry nodded, smiling before it dropped “wha’ are we gonna do about…ye know who?” you sighed, brushing your hair back.

“I don’t know, let's just hope they don’t blurt this out”

“who are you talking about?” uma asked, tilting her head

“Harrys actor..and yours, they found out”

Uma froze “shit it might not be a good idea for me to go with you guys then?” you shook your head.

“nah, China seemed like she wanted to meet you” uma nodded unsure but finished her food and placed her dishes in the sink.

“Alright, imma get dressed, 10 right?”

Both you and Harry nodded.

You nervously jumped your leg on the ground, staring at china’s DM’s, wondering if you should message her about uma.

You sighed, she would find out through the paparazzi anyway so.

Hey…its me? (y/n). The girl whos been seen around harry? Any way, uma wanted to come with us and I was wondering if u wanted to meet her?

…..

If ur busy its fine, but was just wondering.

<Seen>

Dude yesss, meeting my own character!? That would be soo cool

You breathed a sigh of relief, slumping on your bed slightly.

Sweet, so about 1130 well be at my aunt's bakery, if u wanna meet us there?

Sure! See you!

see ya!

You sighed and stood, cracking your neck, grabbing your clothes and house keys, smiling at the blue gemmed key with Harry's initials staring at you.

Tossing it in your bag, you stepped into the bathroom, quickly showering and getting dressed, drying your hair as best you could and making your way downstairs.

Were Gil and Harry already were playing video games.

“fuck ye gil!”

“harry that’s (y/n)s job ew”

“Gil what the fuck that’s nasty!”

“then don’t blue shell me!!”

You shook your head, walking up to behind harry and leaning down, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

“you almost ready hook?”

“aye” he muttered, smirking as he passed Gil, who groaned in frustration “on the last lap love”

“kay”

About a minute later, Harry won, cackling as he finished the last lap.

“ahaha! I won, I won!” Gil pouted, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Yeah yeah, whatever!”

“aww,” Harry cooed, pinching Gil’s cheek “you good sunshine boy~”

Gil smacked his hand away, sticking his middle finger up at harry. Who just flipped his right back.

“alright” you patted Harry's shoulders a couple of times, gaining his attention “it's almost 10, let's start heading out.”

Harry nodded, standing and grabbing his black converse, sitting back down to get them on.

“uma! We’re about to head out!”

“got it!” she yelled back, you grabbed your back, fishing your key out and sticking it in the back door lock.

Uma trotted down the stairs, harry moving forward to meet her and allowing her to use him as a steadier as she jumped off the last step.

“Alright let's go!” you turned the key, the portal behind the door opening, light bleeding from behind the door.

You opened the door, letting uma step through first, harry standing at the edge waiting for you.

“see ya gil! Jay, dude, and Carlos are gonna be here soon right?” gil nodded, waving you off,

“yep, see ya!”

You grasped Harry's hand, stepping through and closing the door behind you.

---end of part 8---

taglist

@dpaccione @Ibuck121

perm taglist

@mockeryhamato

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harryhook #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #encore #part of your world #reprise

104 notes · View notes

suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

Text

Mount Everest Ain't Got Shit On Us (Fezco x fem!reader, Part 6.)

Description: You were always told that your life will be as you wish it to be if you’ll study enough. That it will pay off if you work hard. And some people were given you like the scary example of what will happen when you don’t obey. But sometimes it feels good to disobey.

A/N: Eyo eyo, Fez and reader being cuteee.

Word Count: 2.5 K

Warnings: None

Read the rest here, babe: PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5

Masterlist and declaration: H E R E

Not everything in your fuckin' life can go as you want it to go. That's some fuckin' Murphy's law or what. Sometimes you love a girl - and you find our she's boy afterward. Sometimes you want a child more than anything else and just can't have it and those who don't want them have a bunch of kids. Sometimes you kiss a man you have a crush in a pool in front everybody else on a party and everything in you just clicks off at once and you just fell asleep because the combination of eight shots of vodka drank in like five minutes and an almost deadly coffee kicks in too hard.

When you were a teen, you would swear it was you v. the whole world destiny thing. No-one stood by your side, you were a lonely soldier. You were sure that you couldn't reach happiness at any point in your life because something good happened just for something bad to happen immediately after that. But as time was passing, you got to know that everyone has their ups and downs in their lives, that life isn't a straight line of good things. Your life was completely normal and simple.

That morning your life felt nothing like simple or normal. You had a hungover, your head hurt so much it was unbelievable and you were sure that you must be paralyzed because your brain acted like it can't move your body a shitty millimeter forward.

But at least you weren't naked, in fact, somebody has laid you on a sofa and covered you up in a furry, nice-smelling blanket. Your body was warm, but your hair put in a messy bun was still wet. Overall you felt safe and nice.

After having an internal argument with your brain, somehow your eyes managed to open. The light around you was subtle, thank God, so your eyes didn't hurt as much as they could. This place was not familiar to you - it was a small, older flat. It smelled a bit like a good vodka and a good quality kush. You were sprayed all over an old, brown sofa on three big pillows which could be considered mattresses.

A single idea of where you were or how did you got there could not be found in your mind. You must've been tripping during the night a lot.

A hum came up from your lips as you sat, almost screaming when a boy appeared on a sofa on the opposite side of the small table. He was watching you with an intense stare, chewing on a small piece of wood. You were shocked, he was around thirteen years old, but his face had a few tattoos on them, he had a murderous look in his eyes and overall, he was appearing like a not so much friend person to you. You have seen him at the shop as well. He crossed his hands over his chest, not leaving you with his not so nice gaze.

"Ya feelin' alrite? No serious stomach ache or some shit like dat?" - He took the wood out of his lips and remained in looking at you.

"I think I'm good. Headache is the thing that makes me a bit uneasy." - You smiled at him, but his face remained completely, dead serious. Then he nodded, got up and searched through a few cabinets. He gave you a glass of water and gave you a slight nod. - "There's some cereal in the cabinet, drink diz and take the pill, you will feel a bit betta'. Gonna find Fezzy, need to finish some business."

"What's your name, by the way?" - You shouted when he almost left the apartment. The boy turned back to you and played with his huge golden necklace in his hand. He has Fezco's hairstyle and his eyes were flat as well.

"Name's Ash. Nice to meet ya, girl." - He smiled a bit, it was almost invisible, but it felt warm. Then he left immediately, letting you all alone. So you followed Ash's instructions - you swallowed that painkiller and got up to have a small breakfast. Nesquik sounded the best to your grumpy stomach.

You had your Adidas shorts from the party still on, but no socks nor sneakers or your very own t-shirt. Somebody lend you a really long, old, oversized t-shirt which reached the lower half of your thighs. You sat there, leaned with your ass into the counter and held the bowl in your hand. It seemed that Fezco took you home. Could it be his home? His flat? That could be possible.

"Heya newbie. How ya doin'?" - Fez walked into the room with a slight smile shining through his face. Then he seemed to be emotionless in the next second. - "Ya alrite? Ash said ya lookin' good but I like to be sure on ma own."

"Yeah. I'm... I'm good actually. I'm really glad for those painkillers, only my head hurts a bit. Should my stomach hurt?" - You asked with a frown. Ash and Fez both ask you without talking to each other.

"No, it should not. Just askin', I'm curious. You drank." - Fez added. The fear that you made a genuine asshole form yourself in front of everyone was gone in a second. They were just worried when you were out.

"Nice clothes. They aren't Ash's, are they?" - You asked with a slight smile. You rearranged the t-shirt upon your breasts. He nodded, but his expression hasn't changed a single shitty bit.

"Haven't touched ya when you fell asleep, I swear. Any of us. Just brought ya here, made ya wet clothes hang up and covered ya in a blanket. Wanna some coffee?" - He swayed from the sofa to next to the counter just a slight away from you, making the machine brew some.

"... Impatient, I see. Okay. Will have some, thank you." - You nodded and shoved your mouth with a spoon full of some Chocolate cereals. You would fucking swear that it was the best food you ever fucking had.

"Wild evenin' wasn't it?" - Fez asked. Your body tensed a bit as you watched him. You remembered taking eight shots in a row like a pro, you knew that you kissed him right in the pool... But then it was a big black hole in your head.

"If you say so..." - You said quietly with a guessing tone because you really didn't know what happened.

"Nobody kissed me like that in ages." - Fez said in a muted tone which was perfectly matching him in your head at that moment. He had a privilege as well - your cheeks reddened in an instance. He sounded... Like he liked it. And all of it. - "So if ya wanna..." - He stopped himself for a second and laughed at himself. You smiled as well.

"To do something more?" - You asked impatiently, but he frowned and watched you with an unsure face.

"I was thinkin' more like a dinner or shit." - He answered after a prolonged moment. A little "aw" escaped your lips while you felt like a dummydumdum. He was trying to be romantic and now you looked like a thirsty bitch. All you needed was a few smacks in the cheeks. You completely lost yourself in your mind for a few minutes while Fez got both of you a cup of coffee, which made him continue in asking. - "But if ya more hook up chick, think I can handle that shit as well."

"Dinner and shit does sound great to me. I would love to go out with you." - You said hurriedly all of a sudden while he was still talking. When he heard you say that and as he watched you drinking the coffee he made for you, a flash of a bright smile shined through his face. But he was subtle in an instance again.

"Alrite. Make yourself at home, don't go to the back of the house, have some food or what do ya want, yo clothes are hanging there." - He pointed his fingers onto the radiator. - "And here's yo phone. Someone was hitting' it all fuckin' night. Yo better write them back. And if ya want, keep dat shirt. Not gonna need it." - He gave you it and seriously - there was a lot of missed calls and some texts.

"Gonna need to do some shit in the store. Leave whenever ya want, alrite? And hung a paper with yo number on the fridge so I can hit ya up too." - He put his mug on the counter and you would swear he was leaning into a quick cheek kiss, but then he leaned away from you.

So you sat down again, covering yourself in the blanket to feel warm, still sipping the coffee he made for you. It was Rue, it was Fran.

Big sista: Where yo ass at?

Big sista: We need 2 go. Where yo at?

Big sista: Ur freaking me the fuck out.

Big sista: Where the fuck are u. Come on. Call me.

Big sista: Alright. Gonna tell ma u stayed at Rues. Hope ur good.

So Fran was searching for you from midnight until one am. But you were nowhere to be found.

Morgan Freeman: Where yo lazy ass at, Jesus?

Morgan Freeman: Yo are a party wrecker. Where the hell yo at?

Morgan Freeman: Okay, Ash just turned in and said that Fez took u to his home.

Morgan Freeman: Hit me up where you're up.

Both of them were afraid of you when you have disappeared. You somehow found it so sweet you smiled to yourself. And so you turned in and texted to Rue that you're completely fine. Then you called Fran not to be worried about you, that you're good.

"Where the fuck were you?" - She yelled second after picking up the call. You put the phone a bit further from your ear and looked around you to inhale Fezco's own flat.

"I got a bit too friendly with some local vodka out there and passed out. A friend took me to his house. No big deal, Fran." - You huffed out and got some sugar to your coffee to make it sweeter. Fez's coffee was too bitter for you to handle.

"No big deal, shithead? Last time I remember, you were the more adult one of us. You're fuckin' seventeen." - Fran said angrily and you could feel that she wants to give you a punch to your nose as soon as you get near her. - "Listen to me, I saved yo ass. Ma thinks you're with Rue. Are ya with Rue?"

"I'm not with Rue, but you can trust me, this person is seriously cool. You two would get along." - You said calmly. Fran was making a big deal out of completely nothing. You only took a bit too much to drink. She was doing it all the time when she was your age.

"Okay. Okay. Imma calm down. I was just worried, shithead. Be safe. Alrite?" - She exhaled out loud and sent you a kiss through the phone. That was what you loved about her. Usually, she gave up and said that you're the smart one and that you know how to take care of yourself, she was able to say that she was doing the same things as you are doing.

"Yeah. I love you too." - You said quietly with a big smile and hung up the call. Not too long after that, the patrol slash cavalry arrived - Rue was knocking on the apartment door. She was dressed as always, in her own messy way, her hair was messy as hell and she looked tired. Only God knew what was her night out.

"Hey, you lil minx." - Rue said with a huge smile and gave you a big hug. She warm and she smelled nice with a slight touch of the alcohol lasting in her system from the last night.

"Hey, Morgan." - You whispered happily and let her in. She seemed to be well oriented in Fezco's apartment, again pouring her some coffee and taking some chips from one of the cabinets. Of course, her eyes didn't miss that you had someone's clothes on.

"Always thought that Fez has a nice wardrobe, but it looks even better on you. Ya startin' some collection?" - She sat next to you as you turned the TV on and you gave her an ironic look. - "Just kiddin', kiddo. But from the things I've fuckin' heard, you hit it off pretty well yesterday." - That look was somehow different. She looked happy for you two, she must've heard that you made out.

"Have seen Fez on the way in. He looked chill as if he had the best kush after a long fuckin' time, but I know that he has the same weed as always." - Rue playfully raised her eyebrows. That made your cheeks redden, Rue acknowledging that you made her friend's day better. That felt lovely. That felt good. And it made your day better as well.

"Are ya blushin'?" - She laughed and took your shoulder to your palm. - "Tell me everythin'. Tell me what Fez have said in the morning when he saw you?"

"He... Asked me out. He wants to go out with me. And it looks like he likes the way I kiss. I thought that he leaned to give me another one, but then he walked away." - An excited squeak escaped your lips. You were outta the place because of Fez. It felt like a start of something between you two.

"So Fezzy for himself a girl. And a nice one which I do like. You don't even know how lovely this is." - Rue leaned her head onto your shoulder and watched the TV with a dreamy look. You kissed her and then watched the TV as well.

You two left at two p.m. before you could even standstill on your own feet. A small paper hung on the fridge when you and Rue were leaving home with your number your sign with a small heart at the end. Without a word, she automatically set the course to your home and Rue was walking along with you.

"Hello. Enjoyed yourself last night?" - Your mom got up from her small garden, waving at the two of you, walking down the street.

"'t was good, Mrs. Y/L/N. We had fun, watched some Johnny Depp movies, we had a good time." - Rue's hand hung over your shoulder and she smiled.

"Looks like you had a long night, you two. Do you want some lunch?" - Your mum greeted Rue with a quick hug as you two walked inside. You immediately went to your bedroom and changed your clothes in order not to smell like weed. Then you went back to the dining room, where Rue was already sitting at the table and ate her spaghetti at a fast pace. Your plate of spaghetti was served on the table as well. You started to eat.

When Rue looked at you, her look was somehow playful. She was glad.

You and Fez were off to a good start.

#fezco #fezco x reader #fezco euphoria #euphoria hbo #rue bennett #jules vaughn #euhporia #series #fez #fez euphoria #fez x reader

195 notes · View notes

quinnybee-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Fire Meet Gasoline

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Rating: T+

Part: 5/?

Story Summary: A chance encounter between a villain and vigilante leads to an unwise deal made between unlikely allies; an unwise deal made between unlikely allies ends in a final stand neither would have ever dared to take on alone. Together, though, they just might have a fighting chance.

Part 5 Summary: Hizashi uses the first of his five favors, and some interesting new complications are uncovered along the way.

Part 1 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 2 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 3 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 4 on Tumblr / AO3

On AO3

The night was cold and quiet and empty other than Shouta and the two burglars he was silently tailing through the city park. It was almost a smart move on their part to cut through the far edge of the park, away from the main road swarming with police at the site of the corner store they’d broken into. The trees were dense enough to make visibility an issue outside of the hazy halos of light from the lamps along the path and the recently-mowed grass was still short enough to not give their footsteps away. But they hadn’t accounted for someone passing by while listening to police radio dispatches as they skittered away from the crime scene and it was about to make things much more difficult for them.

Getting back out onto the streets felt like finally slipping through the bars of a tiny cage he’d been trapped in. Yamada and his stupid wager still hovered over his head like the Ghost of Bad Choices Past, but Shouta refused to let it disrupt his routines any more than it already had. He crept along in the burglars’ wake, taking long, slow strides to avoid making any noise. The two of them had stopped under the tight row of trees near the park fence to catch their breath. Shouta reached the tree beside the one they were crouched under and pulled himself up through the branches until he reached where the park’s faux-natural manicuring brought the treetops close enough to almost touch. He had a decent vantage point from here, hidden by leaves and the rattling of branches in the night air. The two burglars didn’t look much older than their early twenties at the most, a couple of punk brats diving in way over their heads. Petty criminals were getting bolder and bolder these days, Shouta thought with a frown. They scuttled around in the shadows unbothered while flashier villains took up all of the city’s heroes’ time and energy. Crafty, but not necessarily smart. Activating his Quirk while he could see them but the branches still blocked them from seeing him, Shouta did a quick pat-down inventory of his supplies; the bolases and gags were in their designated hidden pockets at his waist, his zip ties hidden down the back of one boot and his knife stowed in the other, and a spare length of rope sitting in a looped coil around his neck under the collar of his jumpsuit. After the endless hassle his initial run-in with Yamada had caused him in the intervening weeks he was taking no chances.

The two below him were bickering in sharp hissing whispers. One was trying to convince the other that they still had more than enough time and good luck to slip back out of the park and knock over somewhere else before they called it quits for the night. The other was whisper-shouting back that his partner was crazy and they needed to make a break for their safe house right this second before the cops caught wise. He would need to be target number one, Shouta decided. Ego and bravado would make the first one stand his ground and pick a fight, but the other was almost guaranteed to spook and take off if Shouta didn’t take secure him first. Shouta eased a step onto the branch that got the closest to the next tree, readying himself to jump. A second later he froze, jaw locked against the startled gasp stuck in the back of his throat. His phone, tucked away in a pocket within a pocket under his arm, decided now was the perfect time to vibrate hard against his ribs in an insistent, rhythmic ringing. Shouta held his breath as the vibrations ground against bone, pressing his free hand against the pocket to make sure it didn’t make any sound. Finally the call clicked off and he let the breath go in a slow sigh. Not a moment later, though, the ringing began again. Shouta let his brain run through a long, florid string of every swear word he knew as he tried to refocus through the distraction. With his luck it was work calling him in to cover yet another overnight shift while an especially nasty cold ran rampant through the office, but he didn’t have time to investigate. Shouta slid forward, bracing his feet before making the short jump across to the burglars’ tree. He landed a little too hard in his haste and the more jittery one let out a startled squeak.

“Okay, that was definitely not a fucking squirrel!” he hissed as Shouta froze in the foliage above them.

“Would you stop being such a coward?” the braver one snorted. “You don’t have to lose your mind every time a leaf falls. If there was anyone else here I would have heard them by now, remember? If I knew you’d be such a chickenshit about this I would’ve left you for the cops!”

“Screw you for real, dude. Your plan was horseshit without me.”

“And the rest of my night’s been horseshit with you. Shut up and stop jumping at shadows before I knock your ass out myself,” the braver one retorted. “I’m gonna go make sure the road’s clear. Stay here and stay quiet.”

The jittery one muttered something acidic under his breath as his partner skirted the park fence to go check their escape route. Shouta ignored the itch of rapid-fire text alerts from his phone and quickly took advantage of the two splitting up. He dropped down behind the jittery one. As expected, the burglar jumped and whipped at the sound of his landing. He managed to suck in a hard breath and open his mouth to scream for his partner before Shouta knocked the wind out of him with a sharp shot to his sternum. As the burglar doubled over Shouta brought his elbow down hard against the back of his skull. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head as his knees instantly buckled and he dropped to the ground. Shouta took his collar in both hands and dragged him to the far side of the tree. He secured the unconscious man and the wrists and ankles with zip ties, binding his arms to his chest with a length of rope and sliding a cloth gag into his slack mouth just in case. His partner had fully disappeared down the park path but the duffle bag full of their take for the night guaranteed he wouldn’t be gone for too long. Shouta hefted himself back up into the tree to wait, pulling out his phone to see what in the world was so urgent.

He had two missed calls and a series of texts, all from an unknown number. As soon as he saw that the first text read I need a favor Shouta could feel a headache settling into the base of his skull.

I need a favor.

???

Do you have a degausser?

Really big magnet?

Hand drill/screwdriver should work too?

A sense of impending dread crept up the back of Shouta’s neck at the thought of what Yamada might have planned. Sighing, he texted back no no yes. His ears pricked up as he heard quiet grumbling approaching from the direction the braver burglar had wandered off in.

Perf! @ urs? Yamada asked.

“Got to be kidding me,” the burglar muttered as he came back into view.

not there out busy Shouta sent back. He activated his Quirk when he got a clear eyeline on the burglar and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“If you bailed on me, I swear to god…” the burglar muttered loudly.

Shouta eased his way back down onto the ground as the man continued to berate his absent partner in a furious whisper. He drew up short and rounded on Shouta as he finally noticed he was being followed. A momentary flash of rebuking anger flickered across his face before his expression fell to panicked surprise.

“What the--”

Shouta narrowly dodged a wide punch aimed squarely at his face. As expected, this one was more stubborn and quicker to react than his partner had been. Shouta ducked low and threw his shoulder up under the man’s ribs, winding him and knocking him back. The man kicked out as he staggered, managing to knee Shouta in the jaw. He tried to regain ground by grabbing Shouta by the hood but gave a frustrated groan as it slipped back and away in his hand. Shouta struck back with a hard fist to the man’s knee, reaching up with his other hand to grab the man’s wrist and wrench it to the side. The man fully overbalanced this time, dropping in a tangled, struggling heap with a yowl as Shouta held him down. Shouta managed to bind his hands together behind his back, but getting him to be quiet and stop flailing his legs was an entirely different story.

“Get off me, you psycho! What the fuck are you doing?” the man barked. He bit Shouta on the hand hard enough to draw blood as Shouta tried to gag him. Shouta pulled his hand free with a sharp hiss of pain and the man laughed darkly. “Try it again, I d--” His voice cut off in a doglike yelp as Shouta brought cupped hands slamming against his ears in a full-force thunderclap. He coughed out a few syllabic noises that were almost words and stopped squirming as the disorientation set in. Shouta stuffed the gag into his mouth and tied it in place before zip-tying his feet and wrestling him into a more convenient position.

Shouta dragged both men out the small side entrance to the park and out onto the empty service road. He tied them together around the pole of a roadside assistance phone and set the dufflebag on the flat solar panel on top. Shouta made sure they would stay secure until someone came to get them, then took the phone off the hook and pressed the button for the operator. He set the phone handset down as it began to ring and walked away quickly before anyone could pick up. As he reached the junction with the main road, Shouta dug out his pocket radio and earbuds and tuned into the usual police scanner frequency.

“--repeat, fire service requesting assistance with possible criminal invasion at Iwata residence…”

The premonition of dread was back. Shouta pulled out his phone to see if Yamada had answered back.

Same. @ urs 1 hr?

At least he had enough decorum left to not just let himself in uninvited, Shouta thought with a low sigh as new reports drifted in. 1 hr, he confirmed. It was more or less enough time to finish his patrol, maybe squeeze in a shower, and get some ice on the welt he could already feel raising on his jaw. A criminally short night, especially given how long he had been absent, but it looked like that couldn’t be helped.

The house was an obvious old-money relic, squatting in stately stubbornness amongst the cookie-cutter modern houses around it. An eight-foot-tall hardwood fence boxed it in on all sides, just barely curbing the sprawl of the pristine relaxation garden that surrounded it. It was like walking onto a period drama set piece someone had forgotten to tear down; the whole place smacked of respectable artifice, right down to the reinforced steel gate doors patterned to look like antique wood and the security keypad hidden inside the pillar next to them. Hizashi wondered if Iwata actually thought he was being inconspicuous or if he simply knew he had enough money and influence to not have to be.

The manor’s front door slid open as Hizashi approached up the main garden path. The man in the doorway was fifty at a guess and about half a foot shorter than Hizashi, but carried his stockiness with a relaxed bravado that made up the difference. His smile held the kind of cold benevolence that told desperate people “of course I can help you, you just have to help me help you first”.

“I saw you coming,” the man said a little smugly, gesturing to the smartphone in his hand.

Security system controlled by an app, Hizashi noted, keeping his answering smile neutral. “You must be Mr. Iwata,” he said, bowing.

“And you’re Seguchi’s contact,” Iwata replied, inclining his head. He gave Hizashi a slightly condescending once-over, then asked, “What should I call you?”

“‘Bird’ is fine,” Hizashi said. “They call me ‘Mockingbird’ but that’s a bit much to keep saying over and over. I’d hate to waste your time like that.”

Iwata seemed to find the quasi-flattery amusing, waving for Hizashi to follow as he began to walk around the manor’s outside deck.”You came remarkably highly recommended,” Iwata said as they walked.

“Oh?” Hizashi bit back a smirk at that; he’d made sure he would. With Hebiko and her lot keeping Seguchi’s arrest under wraps to avoid outside power plays it hadn’t taken much more than a few phone calls and a passable Seguchi impression to invite himself into the confidence of several key people from Seguchi’s address book.

“Seguchi thinks a lot of your skills,” Iwata said, nodding thoughtfully. “Have you worked with many others in the business?”

“No one of note other than Seguchi. I was surprised when he handed off this assignment if I’m honest, he’s never mentioned anything about there being anyone senior to him before. But I’m sure he was just banking on your reputation speaking for itself, of course,” Hizashi said, trying to sound appropriately embarrassed by his “accidental slip”.

Iwata didn’t reply, but the tightening in his jaw at the remark was all the confirmation he needed. When he’d reverted the files on the flash drive Hebiko had planted on him, Hizashi found that all the most acerbic communications seemed to be between Seguchi and Iwata. Iwata was only Seguchi’s senior by at most half a rung, but that half rung had obviously been taken in blood and fire and Iwata had no intention of letting anyone forget his place relative to their own. Bruising his ego in Seguchi’s name was a cheap move but Hizashi wasn’t one to let a good opportunity go to waste.

“You aren’t as much of a talker as Seguchi seems to think you are,” Iwata commented as they reached the back of the house. A squat faux-antique addition about the size of a walk-in closet stuck out from the back corner of the house ahead of them; if it hadn’t been so obviously hand-distressed up close it would have seemed like the cut off end of a wing of the house that had been excised to make it fit the shape of the city block.

“Only when the job calls for it,” Hizashi said, shrugging. “Other than Seguchi most people would rather pay me to keep my mouth shut about the things they have me do.”

Iwata chuckled. He slid a section of the door frame aside to reveal an electronic lock; a quick wave of his cell phone over it and the light flicked from red to green and a deadbolt slid back with a clunk.

“Impressive,” Hizashi commented. Iwata smirked.

“After you,” he replied, waving Hizashi inside.

Beyond the door was a short, steep flight of stairs with a sharp twist in the middle that lead down into a cellar under the main house. The walls had been reinforced with concrete to make a main room no bigger than a studio apartment. There were two doors on the far wall that lead into additional spaces; one was shut with the same type of electronic lock on the door as the entrance above ground and the other appeared to be a secure panic room with a recessed steel door. Iwata motioned for Hizashi to follow him into the panic room. The walls were bare white-painted concrete except for the wall across from the sleek hardwood executive desk, which was taken up by a series of large flat screen security monitors that all clicked off in unison as Iwata pressed something on his phone screen.

Iwata sat down in the plush leather chair behind the desk and gestured toward another less impressive wooden chair across from him. “Have a seat,” he said, setting his phone down on the desk and opening the laptop’s lid. The phone’s screen dimmed but didn’t turn completely off; Hizashi wondered if it needed to be kept on to run the security system without the wall of monitors. He tried to seem relaxed but curious, giving the room a quick once-over as he sat down. As a home office it was a bit on the dungeon-ish side but as a bunker it fit the bill pretty well. “I imagine Seguchi filled you in on the tasks I need assistance with?” Iwata asked. When Hizashi shook his head, Iwata’s jaw tightened in annoyance again.

“That isn’t really how Seguchi runs things,” Hizashi said apologetically. “He leaves it up to the client to specify the uh. Specifics. He likes to just be the coordinator. He mentioned something about a database needing opened or filled or some such but otherwise…” Hizashi trailed off with a head shake and a “what can you do” shrug.

“And you took the job anyway?” Iwata asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I go where the money’s coming from,” Hizashi said simply. “Seguchi has some...flaws in how he delivers information but he has useful connections to less lackluster potential employers.” His careful balance of badmouthing and asskissing seemed to be hitting right on target. Every old money boss Hizashi had ever worked for had been a sucker for a lippy, overly ambitious two-timer ready to throw their old employer under the bus for the chance to trade up; Iwata didn’t visibly preen, but the smirk he let slip was proof enough that he was no different.

“In any case, Seguchi seems very sure you’re the man who can track down information that other people can’t find,” Iwata said.

“I do what I can, depending on what you want to get out of it,” Hizashi said carefully. “I just need to know what I’m looking for and how much of it I need to find.”

Iwata’s grin widened, seeming pleased by the apparent bravado. He turned the laptop around to display a list of thirty or forty names, each with a sum of money in red font in the column next to it. “I want everything you can find about everyone on this list,” he said. “They’re of...certain interest to me, and have all decided they would rather not stay in touch as often as they should.”

Hizashi held in a snort, privately impressed that the people on the list had managed to evade Iwata long enough for him to get this desperate. He stood to lean over the desk, quickly scrolling through to get an idea of the job. The list seemed to be all men, and all of them had built up at least a million yen in debt. A few, however, were marked with a third column that showed the owed amount or slightly more in black with a plus sign and the repayment date.

“Some of these accounts look a bit on the settled side,” Hizashi said lightly, not looking up from the screen.

“I’ve never been one to hold back offers of future help to people I know have needed it in the past,” Iwata said, his tone sharpening. “And besides, you can never trust these machines to keep an honest count these days. A computer record might say they’re paid up but who’s to say there isn’t a faulty memory or two somewhere along the line?”

When Hizashi had arrived that night, all he had really been interested in was getting a feel for how useful Iwata might be as a source of information and whether or not he would be a viable defense against retaliation when Seguchi inevitably bought his way out of prison. Now, however, the boiling spike of sudden fury in the pit of his stomach decided that Iwata was going to end the night sans his stockpile of names of interest, his backup drives, and his freedom if the opportunity presented itself.

“A fair deal, all things considered,” Hizashi said. He turned the laptop back around with one hand and while Iwata was distracted with that he reached out his other hand and palmed Iwata’s phone off the desk. He tucked the phone into the back of his waistband under the guise of straightening his jacket as he sat back down. “Obviously the timeframe is going to vary depending on how deep you want me to dig. I’m assuming they’re all private citizens, so once I get around prefecture government security it shouldn’t take longer than, eh. A couple weeks at most from delivery of the list to the data drop,” Hizashi added. He made a vague dismissive gesture with his left hand to cover clicking in on all six bass switches hidden under the glove on his right. The directional focus began to hum against his neck as it came to life. “Should I expect the list tonight?”

“I’ll send a copy of the files to the usual meeting place at noon tomorrow,” Iwata said. “Seguchi should know--what was that?” The room’s floor gave a sudden hard shudder as Hizashi’s boosted subsonic growl rattled through it, interrupting Iwata mid-thought. Hizashi unclenched his fist and cleared his throat, putting on a concerned expression as he looked around the room for the tremor’s source.

“Earthquake, maybe?” Hizashi said slowly. “I read something online about there being a shift detected out at sea pretty recently.”

Iwata frowned and reached for his phone. His look of concerned bemusement only grew as he found the empty space on his desk. He checked all of his pockets, a hint of frantic anger in his movements as he found them to all be empty as well. He opened his mouth, presumably to ask Hizashi where his phone was. Before he could say anything, however, Hizashi squeezed his hand into a tight fist around the controls and let another hollow bass growl rattle its way up his throat and into the foundations. The impenetrable room shook even harder this time, making the chairs and desk rattle off in different directions.

Hizashi stood up quickly, trying not to sound too winded as he said, “This seems like a bad time to be underground, don’t you think?”

“This room is rated to withstand anything nature can throw at it,” Iwata replied dismissively. His expression, however, seemed less confident as Hizashi created another hard, quick tremor that shook two of the security monitors off the wall. Iwata swore under his breath and stormed over to inspect the damage. While his back was turned Hizashi silently closed the lid of the laptop and slid it off of the desk. Once it was tucked under his arm Hizashi quickly backed away towards the door.

“I’ll see myself out,” he said, reaching back with his free hand and retrieving Iwata’s phone. As soon as he had cleared the door Hizashi hit the icon for the security system’s manual panic button, swiping on the option for a fire alert in the main house. Almost instantaneously a buzzer sounded, painfully loud in the cramped quarters. Iwata turned around just in time to see the panic room’s door slam shut and lock down with Hizashi and his electronics on the other side. Hizashi let out a sigh of relief that turned into a rough hacking cough midway through. If he’d know he was going to have to be “on” tonight he would have warmed up first, he thought ruefully; he could already feel the painful little fires setting themselves throughout his vocal chords. He’d just have to chug some honey when he got home and hope for the best, he supposed. Right now finding Iwata’s data backups and making a swift exit before any authorities showed up was a much more pressing matter.

Hizashi went to the locked door next to the panic room and waved Iwata’s phone in front of the lock. It beeped and turned green, popping open the lock with a satisfying click. Never in his life had Hizashi been so glad for the arrogance of old money. Having all of his security eggs in one basket had probably seemed like an obvious choice for ease and efficiency at the time, but not so much now that said basket was on the other side of two inches of reinforced steel.

The room appeared to be a small archive and storage room with boxes of ancient paper files on metal shelves lining the wall. At the far end of the shelves sat a metal firebox the size of a large attache case with the now-familiar electronic lock on the front. A quick swipe from Iwata’s phone and it clicked open as well to reveal six laptop harddrives, all neatly labeled with backup dates over the last six months. Hizashi grinned to himself. He bundled them together in two neat stacks of three with some velcro cable minders and stowed them in a grubby canvas bag he found on the bottom of one of the older sections of shelves. It would take more time and tools than he had to pop the current harddrive out of Iwata’s laptop, so Hizashi made do with just transferring over copies of as many of the newer files he could fit onto the flash drive Iwata had pulled the spreadsheet off of. He’d just have to hope anything with an edit date prior to this month was already on one of the other drives. He checked Iwata’s phone to see what the response ETA was on the security app. Post-work rush hour was thick, granting him a few extra minutes. For good measure Hizashi told the phone to copy its local storage onto the mounted SD card. Better safe than sorry.

Standing there watching progress bars inch forward made him antsy, however, and Hizashi found himself pacing the tiny room as he waited. Once he’d gotten the drives home and checked them he’d need to find an untraceable way to dispose of them. The shredding service was supposed to come for the station’s old backups next week, but management had to sign off on every drive that was given to them to prevent new drives from getting mixed in with the old. Hizashi could maybe sneak one or two into the count and have it come off as human error, but six drives appearing from nowhere would definitely not fly. Just throwing them away might work in the short term, but the moment Iwata came up on charges the police would be searching high and low for any evidence they could scratch up. Harddrives in a landfill on the opposite side of town from Iwata’s disposal sitewould be a gold mine for them and a prison sentence for Hizashi. Destroying them manually and disposing of them piecemeal would be his best option; the only problem was his lack of easily-available tools to do it with. He did, however, know of someone who was almost guaranteed to be just the kind of over-prepared he needed right now.

Hizashi pulled his own phone out of his inside pocket and hit the contact he’d made with the phone number listed on Aizawa’s CV. The line rang and rang, finally clicking over to a short automated message that Aizawa’s voicemail box had never been set up before hanging up on him. Hizashi rolled his eyes, hitting redial as he checked the progress bars; the phone rang out, clicked over to the automated message, and hung up in his ear again. Trust Aizawa to be the type to never answer his damn phone. God willing he would at least be savvy enough to text back, Hizashi thought sourly. It would have been infinitely more satisfying to hear Aizawa’s soul leave his body as he realized Hizashi had been serious about the terms of their deal but he didn’t have time to waste on phone tag right now. Hizashi typed out I need a favor and jabbed irritably at the send button. He rocked on his heels, feeling the hairs on his neck standing up higher and higher the longer the silence stretched on.

“Come on you hermit,” Hizashi muttered under his breath, typing a quick but to the point follow-up of ???. Still no answer. Either Aizawa was busy or was ignoring him; either way Hizashi was losing ground on spare time fast.

Do you have a degausser? It was a long shot, but Aizawa struck him as the type to have a little bit of everything squirrelled away for particularly weird rainy days. Really big magnet? Hand drill/screwdriver should work too? At this point Hizashi would have settled for a 3-hole punch and a nail file if it meant he could have this over and done with.

Iwata’s phone finished copying itself over. Hizashi set his phone down and pulled a spare pin out of the underside of his ponytail to pop Iwata’s SD card out. He slipped it between his phone and its case for safekeeping and dropped Iwata’s phone into the empty fire box. Aizawa’s answering text finally came, as terse and to-the-point as any Hizashi had ever gotten from him.

no no yes

Hizashi grinned, a thrill of relief settling his stomach just a bit. Perf! @ urs? he replied. Iwata’s laptop gave a cheery ping to celebrate finishing its transfer. Hizashi tucked his phone and the full flash drive back in his pocket, giving Iwata's security app one final once-over. Traffic had thinned out faster than he’d expected and the fire service was practically on him now. Hizashi swore under his breath, slapping the fire box closed and grabbing the bag with the hard drives.

Hizashi slid open the addition’s door and waited, ears straining for the sound of people. Rhythmic red- and white-lit shadows of the top of the gate flashed against the fence in front of him, accompanied by the sound of the fire crew trying to force open the steel doors. Hizashi ducked out the addition’s door and crouched in the shadow of it, hiding his phone under his jacket as he checked to see if Aizawa had confirmed he had a hiding place.

not there out busy, Aizawa had replied.

Hizashi grimaced; so much for that idea. He wondered if he might be able to go bother Aizawa at work instead or if he was “busy” with certain other hobbies of his. Hizashi had the sudden mental image of Aizawa on patrol, frantically texting with one hand while he fended off an attacker with the other and had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. The sound of the gate door slamming open at the far end of the yard brought his mood back down with a jolt that sent his heart into his throat and focused his mind rapidly back on getting out of here quickly.

At the corner of the garden closest to him there was a conveniently tall mossy rock that would make a decent boost over the fence if he could get a good run-up on it . Hizashi stuffed his phone in his pocket and looped the bag of drives around his neck. Trying to channel every squat, shuttle run, and wind sprint Haru had put him through Hizashi sucked in a deep breath and kicked off as fast as he could manage with no lead. The rock was more sloped than he’d anticipated and the top edge of the fence caught him sharply in the gut as he jumped. Hizashi pushed himself up on trembling arms and rolled over the rest of the way with a sharp hissed swear. He half-hopped, half-fell to the ground on the other side in the skinny drainage gully between Iwata’s fence and the breezeblock wall of the neighbor behind him. He quickly stowed his mask in the bag with the drives and shook his hair out of his hood. He waited a moment, holding his breath to hear if anyone was coming to see what all the noise had been about. When no doors opened and the only voices seemed to be coming from the other side of the fence he had his back pressed to, he pulled his phone out again.

Same. @ urs 1 hr? he texted Aizawa back. That seemed like a reasonable amount of time to give Aizawa to become un-busy regardless of what he was up to. Killing time was a hassle but getting caught with his hand in the data access cookie jar was a bigger one by far. There was a short delay, then Aizawa’s answering 1hr which was so drenched in begrudging, self-pitying dread Hizashi could practically taste it. Hizashi allowed himself a quiet breath of relief and tucked his phone away, blinking hard to make his eyes readjust. He skittered down the uneven pavement at a crouch to avoid being seen, standing up straight to merge into the night time street traffic as he reached the sidewalk. Hizashi forced himself to relax into a casual slouch as he moved through the crowd despite the rough cough that followed his deep sigh of relief. He was going to sound like an absolute car crash in the morning, but the bag now back in his hand was full of at least six reasons for it to be worth it. Now all he had to do was head home for a quick costume change and gathering of supplies before he met up with Aizawa for some recreational information theft and property damage.

Shouta was checking his molars in his bathroom mirror when he heard the doorbell buzz. A couple of his teeth felt loose in his jaw after that knee to the face, but so far it didn’t look like any had cracked or come uprooted. He folded his ice pack over the side of his hand as he held it to his jaw, letting it cool the bandaged bite wound and his swollen face at the same time.

“Rough night?” Yamada asked as he opened the door, giving him an amused once-over. Despite his perpetual air of calm surety, Shouta noticed the hand holding his grubby canvas grocery bag over one shoulder was clenched around the straps tight enough to make his knuckles go white. “This shouldn’t take too long,” Yamada went on when Shouta didn’t reply. “Just tell me where I can set up and I’ll be in and out in no time flat.”

“No one said you were coming in here,” Shouta said shortly. He picked up the old toolbox that he had packed all of his most replaceable tools into and handed it unceremoniously to Yamada.”Don’t bother bringing it back. Have a good night.”

Yamada caught the door as Shouta tried to close it on him. He was stronger than he looked, Shouta thought as Yamada held the door back enough to let him wedge his foot in. “Just like that?” Yamada asked. His voice was full of lofty disapproval at Shouta’s poor manners, somewhat undercut by a tired raspiness beneath it. “Talk about hospitality.”

Shouta glowered at him. “You asked to borrow tools. They’re right there. Have a good night.” He managed to remove Yamada’s foot from the doorway but Yamada locked his elbow to keep the door from closing just yet.

“Well, yeah, technically,” he said, “but I’m not going to walk off with your stuff like some deadbeat neighbor. What kind of person do you think I am? On second thought, stupid question, never mind,” Yamada added quickly before Shouta could let him know exactly what kind of person he thought Yamada was. “Just think of this as, like, favor-point-five. Like when a test question has part A and part B, y’know? Hand to god, half an hour max and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Shouta sighed, not bothering to keep back the groan that crept in around the edges. “And this has nothing to do with the fire call from this evening?” he guessed flatly. Yamada’s answering head tilt was note-perfect curiosity with absolutely nothing behind the eyes.

“The what?”

“Forget it,” Shouta muttered, no energy left in him to continue this pointless bickering. He stepped back and let Yamada inside. Yamada breezed past him eagerly, taking half a moment to kick off his shoes as he went.

“So, where can I--aww, hey there buddy!” Yamada’s question cut off into a laughing coo. Shouta turned to see Mikey, his flamepoint ragdoll, in the process of climbing Yamada’s torso and settling in a cheerful puddle on his shoulders. Yamada buried his hands in Mikey’s fluffy side and nuzzled him back as the cat began to purr at top volume. Shouta felt a stab of annoyance that Mikey had decided to make friends with Yamada, despite knowing full well Mikey by nature made friends with everything within eyesight.

“Don’t be a pest,” Shouta said, half to Mikey and half to Yamada as he reclaimed his cat. Mikey instantly turned into an affectionate blob in Shouta’s arms, which soothed him somewhat. Shouta gave him a quick snuggle before putting him down and trying to shoo him towards the bedroom. Mikey flopped over onto his back with a short, cheery request for belly rubs. “Idiot,” Shouta muttered affectionately, giving his fluffy belly a quick ruffle before turning back to Yamada.

Yamada looked stymied but like he was trying to quash a smile at the same time. Shouta raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Yamada said, shaking his head. “Just trying to regroup. You having a cat makes things slightly more complicated.”

Before Shouta could correct him, the automatic feeder in the corner went off. All three of Shouta’s cats came bolting down the hall at the sound of dinner being served, Mikey in the lead with Gingko and Kurotabi bringing up the rear. Yamada’s expression darkened another notch.

“This day just keeps getting better,” Yamada muttered with a tight grin.

“What do they have to do with whatever you need to get done?” Shouta asked. He almost hoped that making Yamada talk his plan through might tip him over into calling off “favor-point-five” and leaving. Unfortunately Yamada seemed to take it as Shouta showing interest instead, brightening at the question.

“Well, what I need to do right now is some pretty hardcore data management. We have to clear our backups twice a year and now’s the time,” Yamada said. “So I just need to wipe some of our older harddrives and drill a few holes in them just in case.”

“In case of what?” Shouta snorted, raising an eyebrow.

“In case someone shifty decides to recover sensitive data from them before they can be sent to the shredder,” Yamada replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We have a whole room at the station that’s full of old junk tech, and if someone decided to sneak in and make off with a recoverable drive full of personal information about our guests it would be super bad news.” When Shouta still looked dubious, Yamada went on, “Celebrity stalkers are no joke, Aizawa. I’m not in the business of getting sued because some weirdo with a hard-on for Mount Lady decides to raid our studio for scraps.”

That did nothing to explain why the operations manager was in charge of the project rather than their IT department, why it was being done after hours and presumably off the clock, or why it had to be done right now in his apartment, but at this point Shouta was rapidly becoming less and less concerned with getting an honest answer out of Yamada. “Fine, whatever,” Shouta muttered, shaking his head. “This is already taking too long. You can use the entryway. I’ll run an extension cord for the drill.”

“Do you have a box maybe yey-big,” Yamada made a square with his hands about the size of a toaster oven, “and some styrofoam or something I can use to brace the drill? If one of these shatters I’d hate for the pieces to get around your kitties, y’know?”

“Probably,” Shouta sighed. “I’ll put up a couple gates so they won’t bother you.”

“Great, thanks.”

Putting Yamada into a small enclosed space with bars was probably more satisfying than it should have been, but Shouta was going to take his silver linings where he could find them. He had been expecting Yamada to keep up his usual chatterbox stream of consciousness monologue as he worked, but he was surprisingly quiet once he settled in to work. He sat hunched over his laptop or crouched over the box Shouta had found for him to do the drilling in, face blank in concentration and headphones blaring music to cover the sound of the drill. After a while the sound almost faded away into the background of Shouta’s own after-hours work, scanning through police blotters and adding tonight’s unspecified misdoing to his spreadsheet about Yamada.

The one thing Shouta had predicted correctly was Yamada’s underestimation of how long things were going to take. His own work distracted him long enough to not notice that an hour and half had passed, and he realized that and the fact that Yamada was still there and working at about the same time. Shouta approached the cat gate cage and cleared his throat. The half-assembled remains of two harddrives sat on top of one another next to Yamada as the progress bar on a third hooked into his laptop crept forward. Yamada’s head bobbed to the beat of whatever he was listening to, eyes focused almost unblinkingly on the document he was scrolling through. Shouta cleared his throat again with no reaction. He tapped two knuckles sharply against the bars of the gate and Yamada jumped, finally noticing he was there.

“Sorry, didn’t see you. What’s up?” Yamada asked. The rasp in his voice Shouta had noticed earlier seemed to have evolved into a painful, gravelly tone in the meantime.

“Wondering how long this is actually going to take,” Shouta said.

“Oh. Yeah, right,” Yamada said, flushing slightly. “It shouldn’t be too much longer, I think? These drives were reused somewhere along the way so I’m having to defrag them before I can get a clean wipe.” His voice wavered in and out as he spoke, and he punctuated the explanation with a hacking, phlegmy-sounding coughing fit.

“Are you sick?” Shouta asked, leaning away slightly. Yamada shook his head.

“No, I’m fine,” he said as he coughed into his sleeve. “Long day, not enough water, you know how it is.” He sounded scratchy and miserable despite the upbeat tone he seemed to be trying to cover it with.

“Do you want some tea or something?” Shouta didn’t know why he said it, and by the way Yamada blinked at him in open surprise he didn’t either.

“Oh, uh. I don’t want to be a bother or anything,” Yamada said awkwardly. Shouta snorted at that, holding back a retort about how so far this evening had proved that to be a blatant lie.

“Forget it. I could use a cup anyway. You take it straight?”

“No milk, but some honey would be nice if you have it. Sugar’s fine if you don’t. Um. Thanks,” Yamada said, still sounding grateful but bewildered by the offer.

The tea gave Shouta something to focus on other than the late hour and the lack of any deadline in sight. Mikey and Kurotabi followed him to the kitchen, expecting an after-dinner snack; Gingko, who had been patrolling the bottom gate and growling with all the intimidation a three-legged, one-eyed bobtail cat could muster every time Yamada moved too much for her liking, refused to give up her post even under the implied promise of extra food.. At least she had some taste in people, Shouta thought with a warm pride toward his angry calico youngest. He let Kurotabi sit on his feet and Mikey flop over his shoulders as he stood and waited for the electric kettle to boil and for the first time that night allowed himself a few minutes to relax and pretend his apartment was just his once again. It couldn’t last forever, though. Once the tea had steeped, Shouta took Yamada’s mug and his slightly crystalized bottle of honey into the living room.

“Here,” Shouta said, knocking the mug against the gate to get Yamada’s attention. The third drive appeared to have been finished and hastily reassembled while he was dawdling in the kitchen and the fourth was already whirring away next to the laptop. Shouta wondered if it was a coincidence or if Yamada was actually trying to live up to his timeframe this time.

“Thanks,” Yamada said, standing with a grunt to reach over the top of the double-stacked gates.

Shouta nodded, then went back to the couch with his own hot mug. Keeping half an eye on Yamada, Shouta watching in fascinated disgust as Yamada squeezed out an overflowing spoonful of honey, stuck it in his mouth, and tilted his head back to gargle it before swallowing; Yamada then squeezed out another spoonful, which he plopped down into his tea like that was just something you did. At least he had enough sense to not drink it straight out of the container, Shouta supposed. Yamada soon went back to his motionless fixation on his data wiping and drilling, occasionally interrupted by gulps of tea. Shouta settled in on the sofa, scrolling the usual pro hero gossip message boards he frequented to find new leads the police might be trying to keep quiet. If there was a scrap of controversy to be looked into, these fanatics would be the first to know and the first to blab.

Someone had started a new speculation thread about how Mockingbird’s newest lull in activity had to mean that he was planning something huge and truly diabolical this time. Shouta snorted and glanced over at Yamada, who was sipping tea and nodding along with something that sounded suspiciously like a dubstep remix of the Wii Shop Channel theme music. Truly, a force to be reckoned with. One of the more notorious troublemakers on the boards was making yet another stink about All Might being confirmed as sighted somewhere within Musutafu city limits and had two of their three threads locked by mods already; the third was in the process of being spammed to death by the usual memes and mockery that followed just about any claims of an undocumented All Might sighting. Shouta rolled his eyes, scrolling through photoshop after terrible photoshop to see if there was any actual intel to be had. If the internet was to be believed, All Might had transcended mere hero-hood to become some kind of omnipresent boogeyman for villains, able to be sighted and active in ten cities simultaneously. But anyone with half a brain knew that if someone that well-known and flashy has shown up anywhere near here, a dozen different tabloids would have fallen over themselves to confirm it by now; it was one of the few instances where absence of evidence and evidence of absence overlapped and frankly Shouta was glad for it. The last thing the city needed right now was some self-important big shot showing up and dragging the populace into their problems for the sake of some attention.

Hizashi’s back was on fire and his hands felt like they were about to snap in two but at long last all of the data had been transferred and all the drives were very, very broken. He’d only gotten to look at bits and snippets as he kept an eye on progress bars, but it seemed like Iwata had even more secret pots on the boil that Seguchi did. The list he’d shown Hizashi wasn’t a bunch of deadbeat debtors; as far as Hizashi could tell none of them had ever even met Iwata, much less owed him money. Instead it seemed to be a list of every adult male listed as single on his tax papers who had put in a downpayment on the mortgage for a condo or single-occupancy home in Musutafu in the last eight months. Seguchi had been supplying Iwata with the names piecemeal, and both he and Iwata had been pretty cagey about the specifics of its use in their emails to one another in case someone else had gotten ahold of them. Stopped clocks were right twice a day, Hizashi supposed with a frustrated sigh. They knew enough about their target to know he had just moved into the city, was single, and was a registered Pro Hero, but not enough to be able to put a face to the name. Or rather, a code name to a name. If they wanted to get to a Pro Hero, though, it would have been simpler to just put out a public challenge with vague details that sounded personal and specific and narrow their search according to who answered. It couldn’t be that hard; it was like writing a horoscope, except instead of trying to produce a paragraph of harmless fortune-telling you did your best to incite a fight to the death with every Scorpio you could find. Iwata had been adamant about keeping their work secret until they had solid ground to stand on, though, much to Seguchi’s obvious irritation. Their emails had become steadily more stiff and icy as time went on, all the way up until the point where Hizashi’s eyes had begun to cross and he decided to put the mystery aside and take his leave before Aizawa got really ticked off at him.

Hizashi hissed as sharp jolts of pain shot up and down his legs as he stood. “Well, that should be good for now,” he said cheerfully. Aizawa didn’t answer. Hizashi rolled his eyes. It might have been later than he’d intended to stay but that was no reason to get petty. When Aizawa continued to ignore Hizashi’s attempts at getting his attention, Hizashi wedged his fingers in between the bars of the top gate and popped the latch open. He caught it as it collapsed in on itself and set it against the wall before unlatching the one on the bottom as well. The small three-legged cat that had been his self-appointed prison warden all night stood at attention as he did so, letting out a warning growl as it stared him down with its single brown-green eye.

“Easy there,” Hizashi said, edging past the cat at as wide a berth as he could manage. “I come in peace, all right?” The cat seemed unconvinced, following him at a suspicious distance as he crossed the living room. “Hey, Aizawa, I think I’m--oh.”

Moving closer he realized Aizawa wasn’t ignoring him to be petty; the other man had fallen asleep on the couch, buried under his other two cats. Up close Aizawa looked exhausted, the deep insomniac bags under his eyes almost dark enough to match the swollen bruise under his chin. Running a double life was tiring work, no matter what side you fell on, Hizashi supposed. Aizawa’s phone had fallen from his grasp and come to rest in his empty tea mug; his arm flopped limply over the edge of the cushion just missing it, like he’d passed out midway through retrieving it. Hizashi snorted, plucking the phone out of the mug and using the hem of his shirt to wipe a smear of tea off of its screen. To his surprise, the phone unlocked at the halfhearted swipe without any kind of code or password required. For being such a stickler Aizawa was remarkably lackadaisical about the important things, Hizashi thought, shooting the unconscious man a judging glance. The last thing Aizawa had been looking at was some trashy-looking hero fanboy gossip site. Hizashi was about to just hit the power button and move on when something on the page caught his eye.

The thread he’d been scrolling was a long series of increasingly doctored images of All Might doing stereotypically touristy things around Musutafu. Some of them were well-made enough to almost look real, but the bulk of them were purposefully terrible, so zoomed in and deep-fried they were little more than a handful of pixels held together with duct tape. What they all had in common, however, was the username tagged in every post: shigarakitomura. Nothing quite like some good old-fashioned internet dogpiling, Hizashi thought with a frown, though a quick scroll of the user’s post history showed they were no stranger to bullheaded spam and moody fight-picking with other All Might-obsessed members of the boards themself. It was the name, though, that was jingling a small bell in the overtired emptiness of Hizashi’s brain. He went back to his laptop and typed in a quick keyword search in his files for the name Shigaraki. A slow smile crept across his face as a recalled email from Iwata to Seguchi popped up at once. The recalled version read for Seguchi to take care to make sure Shigaraki was kept in the dark about what they were hoping to find; the edited and re-sent version replaced the name with “certain overeager outside parties”. Hizashi grinned, looking over his shoulder at the dark-haired lump snoring away completely unaware in the next room.

“Shouta Aizawa, you are a genius.”

Shouta jolted awake to the sound of his alarm screaming at him. He groaned and fumbled for it, trying to swipe the snooze and buy himself a few more minutes of rest. His thumb slid over something square and papery, however, rather than the screen of his phone. Squinting one eye open, Shouta saw one of Yamada’s now-ubiquitous yellow sticky notes stuck to it.

You should be more careful with your phone. Code is 4632. -M

Shouta groaned, the night before coming back to him in a wave of rampant discomfort. He’d been trying to keep himself awake long enough to make sure Yamada left without a fuss, but somewhere between the hypnotic motion of scrolling and two very warm longhaired cats curling up on him sleep had kicked his legs out from under him. He unlocked his phone with the code Yamada had put on it and hit the snooze despite being irrevocably awake now. He rolled off the couch and dragged himself upright, wondering with no end of bitterness how long he had been dozing away in a completely unsecured apartment.

To his surprise, the answer was “not at all”. His keys had been taken from the hook by the door and used to lock it from the outside; they now sat at the bottom of the bin under the mail slot with another sticky note on them that simply read “Thanks” in Yamada’s scribbly handwriting. Shouta scooped them out of the bin and hung them back up. He noted the cat gates and toolbox had been neatly repacked and set off to the side of entryway and both his and Yamada’s mugs and spoons from the night before had been washed and left to dry in the dishrack. A backhanded show of Yamada’s “hospitality” to spite him for being annoyed at his apartment being invaded, Shouta had no doubt. Yamada really was the king of pointless parting shots. His snooze alarm blared out from the living room, telling him in no uncertain terms that he could either waste time dwelling on it or have coffee before work. Surprising no one, the siren song of dark roast won out immediately. Shouta put the pot on to percolate and went to get cleaned up and dressed for the day.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #erasermic #present mic #eraserhead bnha #eraserhead mha #Fire Meet Gasoline AU #Quinny thinks she's a writer

6 notes · View notes

justkpopjokes · 6 years ago

Text

Nice to Meet You, Angel. || Demon!Joshua

Ft. Joshua/Jisoo(s Chri—actually no, the complete opposite)

Anon: Demon Joshua😏

A/N: This AU has gone through 4 whole plot rewrites rip. kinda inspired by Good Omens!! (also 2 aus in a week?? whaaaaaat)

!! This is a gender neutral!reader fluff with 1945 words~ !!

Before we begin the plot, lemme quickly go through the basics of the universe

yayy lin’s doing world building again

there are angels and demons in the universe, simply just the optional jobs of people’s souls once they die

if they choose this job, they don't remember much of their life on Earth, but they do remember events they associate w/strong emotions bc it helps them

for ex. an angel could remember how sad a death made them feel so they know to prevent it

and a demon can remember how angry a bully made them felt so they can make people that level angry

both angels & demons take the form of their bodies when they were alive and roam on Earth

they can also return to Heaven/Hell and observe Earth from their respective realms

also yes demons can be summoned, but lmao you can also just give em a phone call via incantation

the angel equivalent to this phone call is praying

demons can pretty much do anything as long as it relates somehow to the Seven Deadly Sins (pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, sloth)

angel powers are more holy/good, and they can grant things in prayers if they choose, etc

Anyway, YOU KNOW THIS BOI??

THiS bOi sHUa

he's chill af for a demon ok

one of the first demons so like no one really knows how he’s a demon bc he’s so polite

there’s some speculation that he was one of the first to fall but like

what the hell did he do???

But also some say he became a demon out of spite bc he saw a demon commit a “sin” that actually helped someone

so he became a demon just to help people in a more… unholy way

and then he was upset angels hated him just because he was a demon

like wow spirit discrimination

NOW YOU—

you are an angel (literally)

you’re the angel that protects like. atheists/"non-believers" bc c'mon just because they don’t believe in God/gods doesn’t mean they shouldn't have access to that protection service

(yes hello you’re calling APS, the Angel Protection Service sponsored by God, how may I help you?)

so yeah you’re pretty chill yourself since you have to constantly deal with people who don't believe in you lol

One fine day, you were listening to a prayer from a sick college student

ok it wasn't really a prayer but they were like "oh please, my god, let me get some sleep tonight"

you gladly put them to sleep and they slept soundly at night

when you checked on them the next morning, you noticed—

A dEmON?!?

…lying right next to the student (but above the covers, he has boundaries), who isn't stirring at all

if the leather jacket and ripped jeans didn't tip you off, he had some horns on his head to confirm ur suspicions

You: "Hey what in the world are you doing here?!"

???: "What? If they get up rn they won't be able to pay attention in class. I'm letting them rest first"

You: "Wha—who—okay, okay okay… who are you?"

"I’m Joshua, nice to meet you, angel"

Shua knows he has the name of an angel so afterwards he's like. Don't get it confused bish.

you ask him what he's doing, and basically, he's using the sin sloth on this sicko student so they stay in bed and recover instead of going to class

Even tho you feel iffy abt letting a demon affect a human right in front of you, an angel, you are a bit intrigued

you haven't seen a demon use their powers for good before…

who is this guy??

anyway he disappears, presumably to Hell, once the student needs to wake up

which is when u miracle them some bread to get

But don't worry, you're destined to meet again~

which you did, on several occasions

and ok maybe you were glad to talk to someone who was actually interesting

so, yknow,,, if another angel was like "hey y/n uhh there's a demon… bothering? someone? idk but it's a non-believer, that's ur jurisdiction right"

you had a guess on who this demon was…

…and you were right

Joshua: "Oh hey angel"

You: "Ew, you make it sound like a pet name"

JS: "Well I don't know your name, do I?"

You: "Oh. Right. It's Y/N."

he still calls you angel tho, smh that flirt

y'all just bicker and/or chat for a bit whenever u go help the same person

Like one time when he insisted that you let him use gluttony on a teen so they'd eat a lot of ice cream that day

they had just been through a bad break up so u let it slide

Or another time he used wrath on a timid kid so they could stand up to a bully

all of these ended w/you two bickering while walking away

There was this little girl you were watching from heaven who was writing a letter to "Whoever Can Do This"

little girl started listing a bunch of things, which you assumed were toys

but then you realized it was actually stuff like food, friends, a puppy, a loving dad who will go out to the park with her—

so u go down there to check on this lil child

…and that's when you see a familiar leather jacket watching over her and suggesting other things to write

you can’t see him from heaven so ur like gosh darn it I should’ve known

"Joshua?? I should've known it was—"

*cue both shua and the child turning around*

JS: "Oh hey, nice to see you, angel"

Lil' Nugget: *GASP* "Mr. Josh is this ur s/o???"

JS: "Hm? Oh, I mean, no, but um…"

You: "Josh what have u been putting into this one's head…"

Shua's all like "greed! Her dad's been ignoring her since her mom died so we're writing a list of things she wants"

then the smol girl smiles so wide and is like "Mr. Josh is helping me! He's my new friend!!"

ur like awww dangit ok I'll let it slide if u let me help

Once she finishes it, Josh hands the girl's list over to you

he explains quietly he wants you to miracle her dad to pay attention+love his daughter again so they can have/do all the other things on the list

you read it over again and do just that

The little girl gives the list to her father, your miracle allowing them to have a fun afternoon eating ice cream and playing with her toys

And you and Josh have a nice time too~

once y'all left that girl's room, he invited you for some soda

"Coke? I hope you mean Coca Cola"

"Yeah, uh, there's a place with a vending machine not too far from here. We can walk"

You don't spend time on Earth often, but you learn as you walk w/Josh that he "prefers the air up here"

mainly bc he doesn't fit in with the other demons, but he also just likes spending time with humans

(obviously tho he needs to go down to hell occasionally for like conferences and such)

you don't remember if you've ever been on a date before lol

Josh doesn't either, but he does remember how jumbled up ur emotions get, which he is not ready for

then again of course he has, I mean look at that charm

however, you can't remember if the feeling you get when going on ur little date with Shua is love :/

it isn’t really, but just bc this is ur first “date,” so it makes sense

But Josh makes sure to take you out again… for dinner!!!

you were investigating the use of lust and pride at the same time

of course, it was just Josh helping a guy find someone to hook up with

you were kinda disgusted and wanted to leave, so shua gladly took your arm and pulled you away to a restaurant!

y’all had a nice dinner, paying with some money Josh had collected

and then you went to walk together and chat some more

he’s breathtaking, and he actually wants to spend time with you despite y’all being on opposite sides of an inevitable war

You don’t care, going on more dates just to talk and not have to care about ur jobs and other stuff

Shua hears you yell “what the hell” at some point and he’s like woAH you can say that???

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not really polite, but I can. Can you say ‘Thank God?’”

“‘Thank God?’ Well look at that, I can. Good point”

you love him because he’s so chill and doesn’t give a f*** abt anything

except you and humans, apparently

like he could’ve burned or smth by saying “Thank God” or be confined to the basement of Hell for helping people/talking with you, but he doesn’t care lmao

However, no one really knows you’ve been talking with a demon tho so uhhh

when they do you get in a little bit of trouble w/the archangels

ur boss was essentially like “y/n what the HECK are you doing?!? you’re on thin ice rn”

you get mad at him, trying to defend Joshua

and you’re right in doing so, since he just wants to help people with a different set of powers

ur archangel boss sends you back down to Earth, saying you can’t return to Heaven until they work smth out

(they probably want to burn you with Hell fire)

You warn Josh, knowing they might burn you

he’s adamant on keeping you with him, so y’all try to hide or smth

which won’t work of course, but you can try, right?

right?

Shua and you sit together on a bench, with you leaning on his shoulder

“Joshua… I’m scared, I don’t want to be burned!”

“Don’t worry y/n, it’ll be okay. I love you, angel, nothing bad will happen”

and just like that, you remember what it feels like to love

“You’re right. I love you too. Help the non-believers for me if I go, alright?”

“I’ll help them just for you.”

Your archangel boss is smart, knowing the worst punishment for you is to be reincarnated without memories

you wouldn’t remember Joshua at all

and when he drags u back up to Heaven, you want to cry

do angels cry holy water? anyway

you’re sent back to Earth as a baby that can’t fend for itself

You remember nothing.

You’ve recently graduated from college and are out looking for a job

you’ve gotten rejected and fired so many times

for ex. just now, after you were arguing with someone who spoke another language that you didn’t know and there was no translator available

the customer wasn’t willing to cooperate either, ignoring your attempts to use an online translator smh

it’s late and you’re tired, so you leave, angry, and start coughing frantically when you inhale too much smoke coming from the alley next to you

naturally, you’re like “What the hell?! Dude, you’re not supposed to be smoking this close to an entrance!”

“Why do you care? You don’t work here anymore”

you take a better look at the stranger once he steps into the light of a nearby lamppost

it’s a dude in a leather jacket and ripped jeans who drops his cigarette

“Need help getting a job, y/n?”

“how do you—what—who are you?”

he extends a hand out to you, which you shake reluctantly

“I’m Joshua. Nice to meet you, angel.”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen joshua #joshua imagines #joshua scenarios #joshua hong #hong jisoo #joshua fluff #i never know what to tag josh's fics smh #jkj fics

89 notes · View notes

fanfics4all · 6 years ago

Text

Mother's Footsteps

Request: Yes / no Can u do a serpent gang imagine where u are a really badass girl and they find out about ur drugs and try to help u and one day they walk in and find u overdosed. Happy ending please😊 Anon

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night (Request are closed)

Sweet Pea, Toni, Fangs, Jughead, and FPx Fem!Reader

Word count: 2026

Warnings: Drug addiction, Puking, cursing, overdosing, Needles and I think that’s it.

Y/N: Your Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Summary: Your friends try to help you with your drug problem when it takes a turn for the worse.

A/N: Because they haven’t really explained what Jingle Jangle is yet I decided to just generalize how the overdose would be like.

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Now the Serpents weren’t a gang that did drugs in fact, none of them did… well, I did but none of them knew about it or I’m pretty sure I’d be kicked out. Right now we were at a drag race, Serpents viruses Ghoulies, I was hanging out with Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs while Jughead got ready to race. I looked around and saw that some of the Ghoulies had those all too familiar straws out and I smiled, I was really craving some good Jingle Jangle. They called out that the race was starting and as everyone crowded around the starting line I slipped away from the gang to find a Ghoulie who would sell to me. I spotted Bingo, my usual dealer and smiled. I rushed over to him since I was in a hurry, I didn’t want anyone to realize I was gone.

“Bingo! Hey.” I said with a flirtatious smile.

“Well if it isn’t my most valuable customer, how much you need?” He asked pulling out a bag full of red, yellow, and blue straws.

“Give me 25.” I said pulling out a 150 in cash.

“You got it doll.” He smiled taking my money and handing me the JJ, he always gave me a discount.

“Enjoy.” He said with a wink and I smiled. I walked away from everyone and started pouring some JJ in my mouth. Then I decided that wasn’t enough of a high for me so I snorted two straws and that was a great idea. I giggled and put the rest in my pocket then walked back to the group.

“Where were you?” Toni asked the second I was in earshot of them.

“I just went to the bathroom.” I lied through my teeth, lucky for me they bought it. I learned how to act normal around them while I was high and it always got easier the more I did it.

“Scatter! Cops are rounding up Ghoulies!” Some random Ghoulie shouted and everyone started hopping in their cars and leaving. Seconds later and Jughead came riding up. Tallboy and Jug started fighting and once it was over Sweet Pea grabbed me and pulled me to his bike. He pulled me roughly and my JJ fell out my pocket making all of them freeze. I tried to get out of his grip to pick them up but he pulled me harder and sat me on his bike looking pissed. He got on and drove off as fast as he could. We drove to Toni’s trailer and Sweets and Fang’s pulled me inside. They tossed me on the couch and they all stood there crossing their arms.

“Why the fuck did you have JJ?” Fangs asked annoyed. I shrugged and Toni came over, she roughly grabbed my face and forced me to look at her.

“She’s high, is that where you ran off to? To buy Jingle Jangle!?” Toni asked.

“Why the hell would you do this? That’s how your mom died!” Sweets asked.

“It’s a good feeling, you guys should really try it.” I smiled and pulled one of the straws that didn’t fall out, out of my pocket and opened it. Toni grabbed it out of my hand then ripped my jacket open and took the rest.

“Hey!” I shouted and tried to take them back but Fangs and Sweets came over and held me down. Toni went outside then returned a few moments later.

“I burned them.”

“What!?” I shouted and tried to escape the boy's grip.

“We’re gonna help you get over this.” Fangs said.

“I don’t want to get over it! There’s nothing to get over!” I shouted annoyed.

“I’m calling FP and Jug.” Toni said and went into the other room.

The next hour was filled with them taking away my phone and Fangs and Sweet Pea pretty much sitting on me to keep me from leaving. FP and Jughead walked in and saw my screaming at the three Serpents in the room.

“She’s been like this since we took the JJ away.” Toni explained to the two that were looking at me confused.

“Let her up.” FP said to the two boys.

“Are you sure?” Fangs asked and he nodded. The two got up and I immediately tried to run out the door. FP grabbed me and pushed me to Jughead. Jug grabbed me and held my arms behind my back.

“Let me go!” I screamed and tried to struggle but when I did it hurt.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me.” FP said grabbing my face to look at him.

“Why are you doing JJ when that’s the thing that killed your mother.”

“Because it makes me feel good!” I said still trying to get out of Jugs grip.

“It’s the reason your mother is dead!” Jughead grunted holding me a little tighter.

“I don’t care! It helps!” I screamed and tears started falling down my face.

“Let me go! I need it!” I cried. The Serpents in the room looked at each other shocked then back at me and watched me struggle and cry.

“Please…” I cried and my voice broke a bit.

“Let her go.” FP said to his son and he did. FP pulled me into a hug and I tried to get out of it, just wanting to get more JJ.

“We’re gonna help you, okay?” I just cried and held onto him.

It’s been a month and Toni had my phone, they were taking turns looking after me but right now I was alone since Toni had to go to work early. Jughead was on his way here and I was laying on my living room floor shaking and my stomach was killing me. I got up and rushed to the bathroom to throw up. Once I was finished I wiped my mouth and went to go back to the living room when something caught my eye. My laptop! How did I not think of this sooner! I ran over to it and with shaky hands logged into Facebook. Bingo did live far so he could probably make it here before Jughead!

Once I messaged him I closed my laptop and ran to the living room. I waited for him to get here and it was the longest wait of my fucking life! My doorbell rang and I ran to the door, I opened it and there stood Bingo with a huge bag of JJ.

“Hey there Doll, I missed you.” He said with a smirk.

“Here’s the money!” I said desperately to get the bag. He took it from my shaking hands and then looked at my face. My skin was lighter and my breathing was faster.

“You okay there Doll?” He asked worried still holding the bag.

“I just need that!” I said pointing to the bag filled with colorful straws of happiness.

“Oh, I get it. Here ya go, don’t take it all at once.” He said handing me the bag and then left. I shut the door and quickly ripped open the bag. I took a handful of straws and ripped the tops off then dumped the powder into my mouth. I swallowed and smiled as the familiar feeling spread through my body. I sighed happily and took out more and more straws. I got to the last one and dumped it into my mouth. I got up to throw out the wrappers before Jughead came but once I took my first step I fell to the ground and started seizing. My mouth started foaming and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move and soon enough darkness overtook me.

Jughead’s POV

It was my turn to keep an eye on Y/N and I walked into her trailer.

“Hey Y/N, I-” I stopped when I saw her on the floor with colorful straws all around her and foam coming out her mouth, she wasn’t moving. I went into full panic mode but was happy I took my dad’s truck today. I picked her up and ran to the truck. I placed her in the back hen ran to the driver's seat. I turned the car on and pulled out of Sunnyside Trailer Park and to the hospital. I pulled out my phone and called Toni.

“Jug, hey what’s up?” Toni asked.

“Y/N overdosed! She got her hands on JJ somehow and now I’m on the way to the hospital!” I said quickly.

“Fuck, um… Okay, I’ll get Sweets and Fangs and we’ll meet you there! Want me to call FP?” She asked then called the guys over to her.

“Yeah, I’m almost there… Hurry!” I said fast and hung up. I pulled up to the hospital and pulled Y/N out the truck.

“Help!” I shouted rushing up the counter.

“Sir, you’ll have to wait your turn.” A nurse said not looking up from her paper.

“She doesn’t have time to wait!” I shouted annoyed.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” I turned and saw a doctor walking up to me.

“She’s overdosed, she’s not breathing…” I said and the doctor called for a gurney.

“How long has she been like this?” He asked as they moved her.

“I don’t know, I walked into her place and she was like that…” I said following them.

“Okay, what’s her name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” I answered and a nurse stopped me from going in the doors.

“We’ll take it from here.” He said and they disappeared behind the doors. I sat down and waited for everyone to show up.

It was half an hour later when everyone came in.

“Jug!” Toni shouted and I turned around.

“How is she?” Sweet Pea asked worriedly.

“I don’t know, they haven’t told me anything…” I said with a sigh.

“I’ll go find out.” My dad said and went up to the desk. The three of us sat down worried for our friend, no, our family.

“She’s okay, she’s still asleep but she’s alive.” My dad said coming back over to us.

“Can we see her?” Fangs asked and my dad nodded. We all followed him to her room and walked in. She was hooked up to machines and had needles poking her arms. She looked so peaceful.

Y/N’s POV

I fluttered my eyes open and a blinding white light was awaiting me. I shut my eyes again and groaned, am I dead?

“She’s awake!” I heard a girls voice say.

“Lower the lights, boy.” Another voice said and I heard a click.

“You can open your eyes hun.” The same voice said and I opened my eyes. There stood Toni, Jughead, Fangs, Sweet Pea, and FP; I looked down and there were needles in my arm and a tag around my wrist.

“What happened?” I asked confused.

“You overdosed…” Sweets said sadly and my eyes widened.

“Oh…” I said and looked down embarrassed.

“What happened Y/N?” FP asked sitting on my bed.

“I-I got on my laptop...no one was there...so I messaged Bingo…” I said and tears fell down my face.

“You didn’t take away her laptop?” Fangs asked confused.

“She needed it for school!” Jughead said in defense.

“So you got more Jingle from a Ghoulie and took too much…” FP said and I nodded.

“I didn’t mean to… I just could take the shaking and pain anymore!” I cried and FP held me while I cried.

“Shhh, it’s okay Y/N/N… but now you realize what your mother went through. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it but we’re not gonna let you make the same mistake.” He said holding me closer.

“I’m sorry…” I said my tears slowing down.

“Don’t worry Y/N/N, you’ve got us and we’re not gonna let anything like this happen again.” Toni said holding my hand sitting on the other side of my bed. I looked around at my family, the only family I had left and I smiled. It was going to be a long hard road but with them by my side, I knew I’d be able to make it through this dark time.

Tag list: @staygoldsquatchling02 @wanderlust-and-poetry

#riverdale #riverdale serpents #riverdale imagine #sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #toni topaz #Toni topaz imagine #toni x reader #fangs forgarty x reader #fangs fogarty #fangs x reader #jughead jones #jughead x reader #fp jones #fp x reader #fanfic #request

802 notes · View notes

floralseokjin · 7 years ago

Text

;lostmyhead (m)

You’re happy in your new relationship with Yoongi, wouldn’t change things for the world. But after one late night message from Seokjin, the guy you’d previously hooked up with (for months), there’s something niggling in the back of your mind. Despite everything, frustratingly that draw is still very much there. What happens when you find yourself caving? And what happens when your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind?

or, alternatively; You have a threesome with Yoongi and Seokjin. (In poor Namjoon’s bedroom.)

pairing; kim seokjin x reader x min yoongi genre/warnings; dicks with photo filters, smut; semi intoxicated sex, threesome, oral sex (m + f receiving), deep throating, vaginal fingering, double vaginal fingering, minor ass stuff, dirty talk, filming of sexual acts, spit roast, multiple orgasms, facial words; 16,388

↳ return to saga index

(01:12am) Seokjerk: Guess who’s missing you………….. ;) [Image loading]

You weren’t expecting a message from Seokjin (or Seokjerk according to your contacts…) when you heard your phone ping beside you. Your heart feeling a little funny when you read his name on the screen. You hadn’t spoken since things had ended – or you had ended them. Falling for Yoongi had been completely unexpected to say the least, but life liked to throw in little surprises to make things interesting. Life was so much different now and it wasn’t even two months later. You’d gone from hooking up with Seokjin to dating Yoongi in the blink of an eye.

You opened up Seokjin’s message, reading it with mild confusion as you waited for the image to load. When it did, it was his dick. His dick taking up the entire screen, painfully erect and in his fist. Your stomach jumped, a mix of emotions battling it out before you settled on just one. Horror.

(01:13am) You: what the fuck is wrong with you 🤯

You typed dramatically and strategically, desperate to get the image off your screen before Yoongi came back from the bathroom. Your heart thudded inside your chest as if you could get caught at any moment – as if you’d done something wrong! You hadn’t. Seokjin was the culprit here.

(01:15am) Seokjerk: 😂😂😂😂😂😂 Haha you don’t like it? Don’t lie to yourself bby

(01:15am) You: Pls don’t call me bby ever again

What was up with him? Was he drunk? Why was he messaging you after so much silence? It wasn’t like you’d been expecting him keep in touch, you could never be friends after everything, especially because you were with Yoongi now, but the Seokjin filled hole in your life at first had taken a little bit of getting used to. To go from everything to nothing was weird, even with your new relationship to distract you. You’d only just forgetting about him, memories a blur, feelings (on the whole situation, not for him,) gone, getting used to his absence, and now he was messaging you late at night, sending you pics of his dick. You were annoyed to say the least, mad at him, even though if you had to explain why, you wouldn’t be able to.

(01:16am) Seokjerk: Why Is that what min yoongo calls u

You grew angrier. Was Seokjin really so bitter you’d left him for an upgrade? You thought about telling him that but couldn’t bring yourself to type it. You were under the impression he didn’t care. He probably didn’t. He was just bored and horny, thinking he could get you with the snap of his fingers – or the snap of his dick…

He couldn’t.

You were with Yoongi now and things were going great. You’d never been in a relationship like this before. It had to be perfect, or at least what you imagined as perfect. You weren’t giving that up for anything. Your time with Seokjin had been fun, but it was only ever supposed to be that. A bit of fun.

(01:16am) You: Yoongi his name is Yoongi and no actually he doesn’t i just don’t want u calling me it same as i don’t want to see ur ugly dick on my screen

(01:17am) Seokjerk: Me and you both know my dick isn’t igly

You giggled at his typo, knowing full well you’d annoyed him with that insult, about to reply something witty when you heard Yoongi leaving the bathroom. He padded over to the bed and you quickly switched to Twitter, beginning to scroll through your feed casually. You tried not to feel guilty. It wasn’t as if you purposely lying to him. Your conversation with Seokjin meant nothing, you and no interest in him anymore. That had been proven when you’d ended things with him as soon as you had realised you had feelings for Yoongi.

You didn’t tell Yoongi about the unsolicited dick pic because you didn’t want to cause unnecessary trouble or drama. It meant nothing. Seokjin was 1000% bored and messing around.

“Are you sleeping soon?” Yoongi asked, his voice already thick and slow with drowsiness.

You hummed as you thought. “Ten more minutes.” You were almost wide awake now.

Your phone pinged again. Three consecutive pings. Yoongi didn’t bat an eyelid, already burrowed under the covers, his back to you. You took a moment to think. Should you ignore Seokjin or humour him? The latter shouldn’t have won, but it did.

(01:22am) Seokjerk: Fine If it’s so ugly I’ll make it prettier for u [Image loading]

Another image. You nearly choked out loud. Not expecting to see what you did. Of course you were going to see a dick, your conscience had accepted that, but you hadn’t expected to see it edited with a collection of filters! There on your screen was Seokjin’s cock decorated with tiny pink hearts and bunny rabbits, a speech bubble coming from the tip to tell you he it missed you…

You were horrified, but strangely enough you couldn’t look away. Too entranced. This was definitely new for him… He had to be drunk.

(01:23am) You: ur actually super weird wtf why did I ever think hooking up with you was a good idea

(01:24am) Seokjerk: We did more than hook up It was more than good We should do it again sometime Cmon I know u want to

You couldn’t believe his gall. Shameless! While yes, the sex had been great – you’d be the first to admit that – he knew you were with Yoongi. Yet here he was sending you very bizarre pictures of his penis. He’d always sucked at sexting, why were you even surprised?

(01:25am) You: Wrong! now leave me alone I already got lucky tonight

You didn’t mean to hand out such a low blow, even though you doubted Seokjin would be butthurt over it, you just needed to put that distance between you both again. This was why you couldn’t try to be friends after everything. A friendship would never work out because this is what you and Seokjin boiled down to. Sex. Without it you both couldn’t function as normal friends. He could never be a friend. Without sex you didn’t function at all.

While with Yoongi things were different. You had a relationship, one that didn’t revolve around getting naked 24/7. There was a comfort that Yoongi gave you that Seokjin never could. It was a comfort you didn’t even want from Seokjin because you two weren’t about that.

You glanced at your boyfriend, feeling guilty now. You hadn’t done anything but the guilt was still there. You shouldn’t be talking to Seokjin right now. You should just put your phone on silent and place it on your nightstand—Ping!

(01:27am) Seokjerk: Fuck No fair You just made me harder fuckk Imahining u getting fucked I wanna see

You froze. What was with him? This was how “old” Seokjin used to act. The one right at the beginning when you used to fuck in his car because you had no place to go, getting leg cramp and a bad back. Or maybe you had just been blinded with affection for him in the later days. Maybe he’d stayed the same throughout, you’d just gotten used to it… Who knew. But what you did know was that you shouldn’t be still having this conversation with him.

(01:28am) You: ur such a pervert go away stop messaging me it’s harassment

You still typed away though, as if you couldn’t stop. You still joked around with him, indulged him while your boyfriend laid asleep next to you…

He took a while to reply this time. It started to make you think. Unwanted images of what he may or may not be doing right now as you waited for his response. Jerking himself off, his pretty hands wrapped around that pretty dick of his – because of course you’d been lying when you’d called it ugly earlier. There was nothing ugly about Seokjin. Knowing that you’d turned him on enough that he was potentially pleasuring himself made your insides feel weird. Were you proud? Did you want to gloat? Did you love it? You had no idea what you were thinking right now.

(01:33am) Seokjerk: If you don’t like it why don’t u block me Oh I forgot U love it really

He did though. Of course he knew what you were thinking. He still knew you like the back of his hand. Some things took a while to forget, or sometimes they just never disappeared…

Yoongi shifted beside you and you startled, putting your phone face down next to you. He lifted his head, too sleepy to turn and look at you despite the question he directed your way.

“Aren’t you asleep yet?”

“I’m just turning off my alarm,” you lied on the spot. Guilt back instantly.

Satisfied, Yoongi grunted and got cosy again. All you were able to see were the blonde tufts of his hair. You needed to stop. You were probably delirious from lack of sleep, even though you’d had a full 8 hours last night, but shut up. You weren’t acting like yourself right now. Come tomorrow you’d be back to your senses, deleting Seokjin’s messages and maybe even his number too.

(01:35am) You: Thanks for giving me the idea !! oh and for the record i hate it BYE BBY

Like you couldn’t help it, you made one last playful remark before turning your phone on silent and getting it away from you. Away from the temptation. You didn’t block him of course. For some reason the idea was absurd, but you didn’t feel like psychoanalysing yourself at nearly two in the morning. That could be for tomorrow. You had a list by now.

You turned to Yoongi, outstretching your left arm to throw over him as you curled against his body. He was warm and smelt good. It relaxed you instantly. Only… there was another kind of warmth you felt, under the covers, between your legs. You realised it’d been there since you’d began messaging Seokjin and that just made you hate yourself.

You tried to think of anything to distract yourself, willing sleep to come but it was impossible. Instead you made sure to concentrate on Yoongi. Thinking of him turning around and giving it to you good. That wasn’t so bad. You could tell yourself your shorts were stuck to you now because of that. Because of Yoongi.

You even thought about waking him up, whining until he gave in and fucked you, just to be able to stop thinking about Seokjin, but that wasn’t going to happen. You didn’t have sex as frequently as you did with…with the guy you shouldn’t be thinking of right now. It was fine, you weren’t complaining at all, you still had sex – hell, you hadn’t been lying when you’d told Seokjin you’d already gotten lucky tonight. You weren’t complaining at all. Being in a relationship was more than sex, you’d already made that clear, it was a weird thing to get used to at first…

Seokjin’s libido was…well, it matched yours. Not that you really had a crazy sex drive before him, but you’d gotten used to it – and you reiterate, because all you and Seokjin were was SEX. Yoongi was different. The first few weeks after making it official he couldn’t keep his hands off you and you loved it, but gradually that had stopped, until you were maybe getting lucky once or twice a week. Granted, Yoongi was pretty busy, most nights filled up with basketball practice, but still… You shouldn’t really have to give yourself an orgasm while your boyfriend napped in your bed…

God, you were a bitch.

This was so trivial. Who cared how many times you had sex? Your relationship was the most important thing, and it was going well. Yes, it was still new, but everything was good. This had been something you’d been dreaming of since high school, so why the hell were you letting yourself get distracted by Seokjin again?

You clenched your eyes closed, willing sleep…

When you woke up the next morning Yoongi had already left for his early class. He was always so considerate when it came to things like that and you smiled to yourself as you stretched, automatically reaching for your phone like you did every morning. There was nothing like a little social media scroll to help you wake up, maybe you’d even play a quick game or two of Uno, your latest stupid mobile game obsession that Yoongi teased you over.

Only lighting up your screen you were suddenly reminded of last night, a million and one messages waiting for you from none other than Seokjin. How could you have forgotten? You’d spent the best part of an hour trying to get to sleep, desperate to just stop thinking.

Just delete them. Delete his number and be done. He’d soon get the message.

You tried to listen to your rationality. You really did, but not a minute later you were clicking on a notification, holding your breath as you braced yourself. You had a bad feeling about this…

(01:35am) Seokjerk: Hey No wait …….......... LOL My messages are still being received u didn’t block me See u love it

(01:38am) Seokjerk: Are u ignoring me or sleeping? I don’t mind I’ll give you something nice to wake up to [Image sent] Look how hard u made me (I made my dick prettier btw) It wants you…. :(

This time you didn’t laugh when you saw Seokjin’s dick with more filters on it. You should, because it was outrageous; his erection displayed on four mini screens, framed with a heart, but you didn’t have it in you. Seokjin must’ve been the only guy in this world who could use filters on his dick and get away with it. You hated it.

(01:45am) Seokjerk: This is so unfair I have to resort to jerking off as I imagine u I wanna fuck u so badddd One last time

Your mouth was dry. You swallowed a couple of times, your heart thudding against your rib cage. This might’ve been a reach, but in a roundabout way Seokjin was trying to tell you he missed you, right? Or, like you’d already thought last night, he was bored and horny. Maybe he’d been stood up, blue balled. That made you feel funny, images of Seokjin with other girls. You shook your head, telling yourself to shut up and scrolled some more.

Fuck. You wished you hadn’t.

(01:56am) Seokjerk: Goodnight ;) Sweet dreams [Image sent] or should I say good morning by the time u see this…….

There was no filter in sight. Seokjin’s half hard dick was lying flat against his abs and white spots of his cum splattered the toned flesh. This was bad. This was really, really bad. The heat between your legs back, your head whirring. You imagined his dark hair stuck against his forehead, lips parted as he moaned lightly to himself, naked on his bed. You knew that sight well. You’d never forget it.

You needed to ignore this, and determined this time, you deleted the message history.

You didn’t, however, delete his number. The thought enough to make you unexplainably sad.

Only ignoring him lasted all of day. Not even a day because it wasn’t 24 hours, it wasn’t even twelve. It was eight. 8 fricking hours, and despite deleting the evidence, getting rid of the reminder, it was you who messaged him this time. You couldn’t stop yourself.

(10:35pm) You: u know it’s kinda sad u were home alone last night jerking your dick to memories of me 😪

The minutes ticked by pretty painfully as you waited for his reply. Maybe he wouldn’t at all. You were right, he’d been bored last night and now he was done playing with you. You were just beginning to regret your message, a little embarrassed when finally your phone pinged to life. You rushed to open it.

(10:45pm) Seokjerk: U know its kinda sad ur texting me when you have a bf

That stumped you for a moment, feeling a little called out. You knew he was only teasing you, just liked you’d teased him, but he was right. He was totally right. You should’ve known it was coming.

What were you doing?

You were going to mess everything up. If Yoongi ever found out about this he’d be mad. You knew if it was the other way around you would be. While technically you hadn’t done anything wrong, the implication was there. You shouldn’t be messaging Seokjin at all. All of that was in the past.

You started to recall the last time you’d met up and had sex. It would be nearly two months soon, felt like a lifetime ago yet at the same time just last week. You’d already been casually dating Yoongi at the time, on your fifth or sixth date, maybe the same amount of kisses. You weren’t really sure when the shift happened. When you’d grown bored of Seokjin and had fallen for Yoongi. It had just sort of sprung up on you. You still couldn’t explain it now.

How sex with Seokjin had become almost unenjoyable in the end, your mind too preoccupied, too busy worrying that you were messing Yoongi around. The last time had been painfully awkward, so much so Seokjin had brought it up, almost as if he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“I can eat you out if you want?” He offered when you hadn’t cum during the deed.

You shook your head, grabbing for your clothes to rush them on. Yoongi had asked you to hang out tonight and you’d made up some excuse. The guilt was eating you up. You needed to make a decision and you needed to make it now. Tonight.

“What’s up with you?” Seokjin sighed, finally reaching for his clothes too. “It was like I was fucking a statue or something. You haven’t been into it at all lately.”

“I have,” you insisted, although you didn’t know why. You were just digging yourself a deeper hole. In a way Seokjin was giving you a way out.

“Really?” Seokjin did not believe you at all. “We hardly see one another anymore. You always find some excuse. I’m surprised you came over tonight actually.”

You were silent, unsure what to say. Unsure how to explain yourself. You’d agreed to see him tonight because you’d told yourself you would end things straight away. Yet somehow you’d found yourself naked, your body tangled in his. It was funny, yes, you weren’t into it anymore, but yet there was still a part of you that wanted him. It was just strange to let go after everything. You knew all good things had to come to an end one day, but you would’ve never have guessed it was because you’d fallen for someone. You’d always thought Seokjin would’ve been the one who’d ended things. Maybe you were used to men letting you down…

“I’m sorry,” you began, your mind falling to Yoongi. You could never imagine Yoongi letting you down. He was just so sweet and attentive. He wasn’t like any of the others you’d dated before. He was one of the good ones. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

That made you feel guilty. Guilt from all angles. You watched as he slipped his underwear back on, averting your gaze a little. You didn’t know why.

It was now or never. You’d made your decision. You owed this to Yoongi. If you wanted to try and make things work this was the only way. It was time to let go. It was time to let go of Seokjin.

“Do you remember when that guy asked me out on a date a few weeks ago?”

Seokjin nodded, his own gaze lowering. He scratched his knee. “The one who was going to take you to McDonald’s.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, remembering a past conversation. “He didn’t take me to McDonald’s.” You also remembered more, about how Seokjin would take you to the zoo. He’d never. Maybe that was your fault. You hadn’t brought it up again. In fact, you’d blown him off that weekend to hang out with Yoongi…

“I like him.” Your voice sounded weird. All serious. You were never this serious around Seokjin. You tried again. “I like the guy a lot and I think it could be serious if I let it.”

You waited for his response, more than nervous.

“So,” he hummed quietly. Your heart was beating rapidly. “You want to end this because you’ve fallen in love with some random dude?”

“I’m not in love,” you argued, scoffing. “I just want to see how things go, and well, I can’t do that when—

“When you’re still fucking me,” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly, looking down.

Seokjin grabbed his sweatshirt from the end of his bed, throwing it on. Was he expecting you to say something? You didn’t know what. He was exactly right. But no, he spoke again straight after. “That’s a shame, but you do you.”

Speechless that he’d taken it so well and accepted it immediately you didn’t know where to go from there. What had you been expecting exactly? You didn’t know. “So… That’s it? It’s over?”

“I guess so,” he shrugged.

Still sat on his bed, you didn’t know what to do. “Okay. So I guess I’ll get going then.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Not so fast.” He rushed, taking your hand to stop you from standing. You froze, stomach flipping. What was it? “Before you go, tell me how good a fuck I was this entire time.”

You made a shocked sound, nonplussed. “Seokjin, I’m not going to do that. Stroke your ego another way.”

“Oh come on, give me this one last thing.”

“Stop.” You whined weakly.

“Say ‘Seokjin, I’ll miss you. Thank you for the greatest sex I’ve ever had and will ever have.’”

“I’m not fucking saying that,” you rejected, rolling your eyes.

“Say it or I’ll tell Yoongi that we were still hooking up while you two were dating – or whatever it is you’ve been doing.”

Huh? He knew it was Yoongi? How? You’d never said anything to him. How long had he known for? You knew he would never actually tell the other guy, he was just teasing but it still made you feel guilty. You hadn’t told Yoongi anything. It was something you probably should have by now but in your defence, you’d only been on a handful of dates. It wasn’t as if Yoongi and confessed how much he liked you yet, asked you for something more serious. That’s why you were ended things with Seokjin now. So you and Yoongi could move forward.

“Fine,” you gave in, not about to ask how he knew it was Yoongi you liked. You didn’t even know he knew of Yoongi. “Seokjin, thank you for the greatest sex I’ve ever had.”

Seokjin’s eyes narrowed before he shrugged. “Hm, close enough.” He knew that your expressionless voice and half-hearted enthusiasm was all he was going to get.

You collected the rest of your things and slipped your shoes on. That was it? After all these months it was over just like that? It was easier than you’d expected, now unsure why’d you’d ever been nervous to end things in the first place. Yet you still feel a little weird. Sad? It was the end of an era after all.

“Just remember,” Seokjin spoke as you grabbed your car keys from his dresser. You froze. “You always know where I am if you miss me, because I think you will...”

He was just messing around, or at least, you thought he was at the time. Now, those words were coming back to haunt you.

It was a Wednesday night, you were home alone, bored and possibly a little lonely. Raking up the past like you had nothing better to do. As if you were weak minded. You should be messaging Yoongi instead, but then again, it was nearly 11. He was probably asleep by now. Seokjin didn’t go to sleep until about two, sometimes later, even on a weekday.

(10:50pm) Seokjerk: Not that I mind of course I knew you’d come back

You’d taken so long to reply Seokjin had grown impatient. Why did that incite something inside of you? You didn’t know what, it was just nice to know he wanted to talk to you. That he hadn’t been just bored last night. Nice to know you weren’t just any girl to him. He was talking shit, granted, but that was okay.

(10:50pm) You: no I was jus t wondering if u were home alone doing it again

(10:51pm) Seokjerk: Now that IS interesting……….

Damn it. You’d really put your foot in it. Now it looked like you were into it. You weren’t. You weren’t at all. That wasn’t why you were you messaging him right now. Thinking about it, why were you messaging him? You weren’t ever going to get a casual conversation, not when he’d sent you a string of lewd texts last night.

(10:51pm) You: that’s NOT what i meant !!

Seokjin ignored you.

(10:52pm) Seokjerk: Thursdaysare my day off No jerking on leg day I’m in too much pain after the gym Unless……u want to come around and help me with a massage Any type I’m not fussy

(10:52pm) You: in ur dreams ahole

You waited for his reply but nothing came. Maybe you’d been too harsh. Nah, he was used to you. Maybe he had something better to do. Maybe he was with someone right now… While you were here alone pathetically waiting for his reply like you had nothing better to do.

(11:10pm) Seokjerk: You know me too well Are you going to Hoseok and Nam’s sat? They’re having a party everyone’s invited

When he did reply, twenty minutes later, you were surprised to see he’d pretty much changed the subject completely. What had you been expecting exactly? A round two? The sudden thought had your belly flipping. You ignored it.

(11:11pm) You: I don’t know maybe

You watched [Seokjerk is typing…] appear and disappear off the screen for a few seconds, wondering what the hell he was trying to say.

(11:12pm) Seokjerk: I’d love to see you You can even bring Yoongo with u

You rolled your eyes at his purposeful typo, but yet it was his first message you were fixated on. Was that what he’d been stuck typing? Rethinking? Rephrasing? You hadn’t seen him in so long, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t miss him. It was only natural. It would be nice to just see him, hear his voice, familiarise yourself with his smell. No, that sounded bad. Too intimate.

(11:13pm) You: wow that’s kind of you to give permission

Two minutes later you were replying again. Giving in almost.

(11:15pm) You: I’ll come if I don’t have plans

(11:16pm) Seokjerk: Yay 😆 See u then

You chewed on your bottom lip, feeling a little stuck. There was no way you could carry on the conversation without making it weird. What else could you possibly say? Ask him how he’d been, what he’d been up to? You very nearly did but got second thoughts. No good would come of it. You’d already pretty much decided to go to a party because he’d kind of invited you. Besides, Seokjin didn’t do small talk – or at least not with you now anyway. After everything.

Instead you decided to have an early night, hoping this time your brain would switch off successfully.

Saturday rolled around quickly. Even though you knew nothing good would come of attending the house party you still found yourself asking Lina if she wanted to go with you. She didn’t. She had work early the next morning. Next was Yumi, but it was her Mom’s birthday. You didn’t really have no one else to ask, no close friends you usually partied with anyway, so Yoongi was chosen by default. Not that you weren’t going to ask him at all, you were, it was just going to be a more casual ‘You bring your friends, I bring mine’ thing. Not ‘Let’s go together.’ He said yes to your surprise. Once you’d made some lie up about bumping into Hoseok at the mall. You didn’t know why you’d made up such a lie to explain yourself, you just knew Yoongi couldn’t find out it was Seokjin who had let you know.

There was no issue between the two men per se, but just like Seokjin had surprisingly known about your dates with Yoongi, Yoongi had known about your hook ups with Seokjin. Bringing it up the night you’d first had sex. You’d been an idiot, unsure why you’d hidden it from him in the first place, but thankfully he’d been understanding. As long as he knew you and Seokjin were over, he was fine with it. It was in the past, he was your future. But even though there was no “beef” you knew Yoongi wouldn’t like it if he knew Seokjin had been the one to tell you about the party. Plus he could be mad. He would definitely be mad if he ever saw those messages…

You already felt guilty enough just being at the party. You were weirdly eager to catch a glance of Seokjin, it had been too long now, seeing as summer break had started and there was no longer a chance to see him around campus. Not that you were walking around hoping for a chance.

Hoseok and Namjoon’s house was pretty packed for such a small place, so for the first half an hour of your arrival you didn’t see him at all, despite being on high alert. Seokjin hadn’t messaged you again since Wednesday night and once again you were left wondering if he’d just been bored that night he’d sent you that dick pic. Why else would radio silence follow? Then again, you’d been the one to not reply after the party invite – not that he’d given you much to reply with. How could you add on from ‘See u then’? A simple ‘Same.’ Sounded lame.

When you finally spotted him in the yard through the window in the kitchen, your gut started to churn. Excitement mixed with disgust at yourself. Why the fuck were you feeling like that? So giddy? Seokjin had cut his hair since you’d last seen him, the guy didn’t really do social media so you rarely saw up to date photos of him. It was shorter in the back, longer in the front, casually falling in his eyes as he stood outside, a beer in one hand, the other in his pocket, laughing and joking with Namjoon. Something hit you then, as you watched him: You missed him.

It was a sudden realisation, one that you didn’t like, and you quickly dropped your gaze, making a beeline for the table to find something for you and Yoongi to drink. You grabbed a beer for Yoongi, pouring yourself a vodka and coke. You didn’t even like vodka.

Just before you were about to leave, you felt a breeze, the door opening, and even though you knew you shouldn’t look in its direction, you did. You met Seokjin’s eyes instantly through the crowd, he almost looked shocked at seeing you. You forced yourself to give him a little smile, feeling rooted at the spot and he blinked, almost returning it before you felt an arm around your waist and a kiss on your cheek. “There you are.”

It was Yoongi. You turned to face him instantly, forcing a grin. “Sorry, there was too much choice.” You felt a little skittish, like you’d been caught. You hadn’t done anything wrong, you didn’t even think Yoongi knew that Seokjin was a few feet away. How could he? The tiny kitchen was packed.

“Thought you’d gotten lost,” Yoongi chuckled.

You shook your head, not wanting to say much else. “Beer okay?” You asked, holding it out to him.

“Perfect.” His free hand took yours, helping lead you out of the kitchen and back into the living room. “Kihyun’s here with the boys. Let’s go and say hi.”

Yay, you thought to yourself. Boring basketball talk all night, how fun! As if you couldn’t help it, you looked back, searching for Seokjin. You found him at the fridge, his back towards you now. You felt unexplainably disheartened.

You spent the next near two hours sat beside Yoongi on a sofa, half-heartedly joining in the conversation with his friends when you could. This sucked. Why had you been so insistent on coming? To see Seokjin? Laughable. You’d only seen him that once, not that you hadn’t tried to make it more. Every time you offered to go and some more drinks for everyone either one of Yoongi’s friends said they’d do it, or Yoongi himself. And no matter how much you looked around the room, Seokjin didn’t seem to want to step foot in here. The kitchen must be where all the fun was, unless he was somewhere else by now. Maybe he’d hooked up. Maybe he was upstairs right now making some girl feel good.

You wanted to go home. You were on your third vodka and coke, and instead of feeling drunk you were just feeling plain old miserable.

Your phone pinged, vibrations against your side, and you fished it out of your dress pocket with a strange kind of haste. It was the name you wanted to see.

(11:31pm) Seokjin: You came

Yes, you’d changed his name back. You didn’t know why. You couldn’t even remember when or why you’d even changed it to jerk again. That had been what you’d called him right at the beginning. When he annoyed you and you were mad at yourself for sleeping with him, mad at yourself for coming back for more…

Looking in Yoongi’s direction next to you, you made sure he wasn’t looking as you replied, too busy chatting away, his arm slung around your shoulders. Your heart pounded for no explainable reason as you typed. Or maybe you just didn’t want to explain it…

(11:32pm) You: I did

You watched the screen, waiting for his reply but got nothing. He’d seen you two hours ago so why hadn’t he messaged you then? Why now? And was that all he was going to say? You couldn’t leave it be.

(11:34pm) You: it’s pretty boring here though

That got him, he began typing again.

(11:35pm) Seokjin: You find every party boring lol You think you’d learn by now not to go to any

You found yourself smiling. He knew you well. How couldn’t he after all that time together? Yes, you hadn’t been dating in the traditional sense but you’d been just as close. You went to reply, not really thinking as you typed until you were done, reading it back before you hit send. You invited me though.

Not only did that sound incriminating, technically it wasn’t true. He’d asked if you were going, not would you go. You deleted and tried again.

(11:35pm) You: you asked if i was coming though

It still sounded just as desperate. The feeling of Yoongi removing his arm from your shoulder caught your attention and quickly you looked at him, seeing he was still talking to Kihyun. You shrunk back into the couch, waiting for Seokjin. He was probably laughing at you right now.

(11:36pm) Seokjin: I did

Or not.

He was repeating what you’d said. Simple words, that didn’t imply much, yet they seemed to speak something more, something deeper.

You watched him begin to type again, it took a minute or so. What did he want to say?

(11:37pm) Seokjin: Do you want to talk in person? Catch up? You’re right this is boring I’m bored

You stared down at your phone, rereading his messages certain you were understanding wrong. You took it he agreed the party was boring, but if you read between the lines it could mean something else…

(11:37pm) You: since when do you like talking to me?

You didn’t want to answer outright. You couldn’t go and talk to him? It wasn’t right. Did he miss you too?

(11:37pm) Seokjin: I always liked talking to you

You knew it was just a text, but you took it as sincere and it had you speechless.

(11:38pm) Seokjin: Come upstairs If you can

You made your screen black, clutching it in your hands. Your palms were sweaty. Looking to the side of you, you found Yoongi looking your way. You heart dropped. He hadn’t seen anything, had he?

“What’s up?” He asked, tilting his head.

Your nerves calmed. You didn’t think he had. “Oh, nothing,” you shook your head, motioning to your phone. “Just Lina wondering how this party is.” Liar. You were such a liar.

Yoongi stared your way, nodding his head slowly, as if he’d decided something. Then he smiled slightly, taking a swig of his beer.

“Um,” you found yourself starting. It was urge you couldn’t stop. “I’m going to go and find a toilet.” More lies. You rushed up before you could feel the guilt. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You were gone before Yoongi could reply.

You stopped on the stairs, messaging Seokjin quickly to ask where he was. You didn’t know why you felt so shady. You were only catching up. It was innocent. You could be friends with him if you wanted. This friendship thing could work if you opened yourselves up to it. Seokjin replied in an instant and you made your way to the bedroom with the blue door, slipping inside as if you were seconds away from being caught. You left the door ajar though, anything to ease your growing guilt.

“Hey,” Seokjin smiled gently. He was sat to the side on a desk chair. Who’s room was this, Namjoon’s or Hoseok’s? You thought about asking but then that didn’t really matter, did it?

“Why are you up here all alone?” That did. Seokjin alone at a party didn’t make sense.

He chuckled quietly, running a hand through his hair. “Needed some silence. Had one too many Jägerbombs.”

You laughed, a little awkwardly to tell the truth. Why had you come up here? You needed to leave and get back to Yoongi. No good would come of this. Seokjin stood, making his way over to you. You panicked. “I… I shouldn’t really be here.”

Seokjin’s face fell instantly. “Then why are you?”

You were shocked by the sudden attitude. You were only stating the obvious. “Because you—

“Don’t blame it on me. You didn’t have to come find me.”

“I’m not blaming it on you,” you exclaimed, confused and upset by the sudden attack. “You are the one who messaged me though.” You weren’t having this. If he hadn’t started his shitty games that night you wouldn’t be here right now. You wouldn’t even be at this party. Maybe you were blaming him. He had a way of getting into your head.

Seokjin laughed incredulously. “You messaged me back!”

“Was I just supposed to ignore you?”

“If you didn’t like it, yeah,” he muttered, not making eye contact with you.

Was he embarrassed? You were so confused. You thought he’d wanted to “catch up” not start an argument. You softened your voice, trying a new approach. “What is with you lately?”

He just scoffed. “Haven’t I always been like this?”

“No,” you told him straight. The Seokjin you knew had always respected your wishes. He would’ve respected your decision to end things to be with Yoongi, and he had, for a number of weeks, until now. What had changed? “I’m not saying you’re like anything. It’s just… You know I’m with Yoongi now.” You spoke slowly. Despite everything, despite your risky interest with those messages, you needed to tell him. You needed to tell yourself. “So you sending me pictures of your dick is kind of inappropriate.”

Seokjin looked at you, something changing in his expression. He looked almost sad, dejected. You waited for his response. It wasn’t what you were expecting. “Just one last time?” He sounded almost pleading.

You froze in disbelief. “You’re drunk.” It was the only explanation.

“I’m not,” he insisted. “Besides, don’t they say that drunk people speak the truth?” He took a step closer. “Me and you. Us. We were good together.”

“Yeah but it’s in the past now.” You couldn’t deny what he was saying, but it didn’t matter anymore. It was over. Had been for a while.

“Don’t I know it,” he muttered under his breath.

You instantly grew annoyed. So what, after all these weeks he was choosing now to have a problem with it? You weren’t going to stand for it. “Did you just invite me up here to try and fuck me?”

He shrugged impassively, unbothered. “Maybe.”

You wanted to yell but held it together. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Who’s right here.”

The sound of Yoongi’s voice horrified you and you whipped your head around in time to see your boyfriend pushing the door open to walk inside. He closed it behind him. You opened your mouth to say something – anything, but found it took at least three tries before sound was actually leaving you. “Yoongi,” you gasped. “It’s not what it looks like—I-I…” You trailed off. What did it look like exactly?

You heard Seokjin mutter a curse behind you, stepping forward, beside you now as he tried to pacify the situation. “Yeah man, it’s not what it looks like. It’s not her fault at all. I’m just being an ass.”

Well, at least he could freely admit that.

Yoongi ignored him, looking straight at you, expression unreadable. Was he mad? Upset? Unbothered? You didn’t know. “I saw your messages, didn’t know what I was expecting to find.”

Oh what an idiot you’d been, sure he’d been too busy talking to his friends to even notice you on your phone. That meant he knew you lied about Lina. That meant he’d followed you upstairs and had heard your conversation with Seokjin…

Seokjin tried again. “We were just talking—

“She can answer for herself,” Yoongi cut him, voice thick with irritation. He looked at you again, waiting your response. You still couldn’t work out what he was thinking, although it couldn’t have been good.

“I’m sorry,” you told him quietly. What more could you say? You’d lied to him. Regardless of your intentions, you’d still lied. You wouldn’t blame him if he broke up with you right here on the spot. He opened his mouth, your heart was in your stomach as you waited.

“Do you want to fuck him?”

That you hadn’t been expecting. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as you tried to make sense of it. “Yoongi,” you gasped, feeling mortified for some reason. Seokjin’s presence beside you had never been so obvious. You couldn’t dare look at him.

“Answer the question. It’s a simple question.”

No. That’s what you should answer straight away. It was a simple answer, yet for the life of you, you couldn’t form the word. Instead, you found another way. “I’m with you.”

You had chosen Yoongi. Despite this stupid situation, despite this mistake you’d made, you were and always would be a loyal person. You weren’t a cheat. You’d been cheated on before, not that long ago actually and you would never put another person through that. You would’ve never had sex with Seokjin. You were with Yoongi.

Seokjin sighed. “Listen, this is just stupid. It’s not her fault. I was the one who asked her up her. I said I wanted to talk.”

Why was he sticking up for you? Not ten minutes pervious he’d been acting like a first class jerk, picking an argument with you. It didn’t make sense.

Yoongi ignored him again, still watching you, eyes dark, although they didn’t look angry. It confused you. His jaw tightened. “He’s been sending you pictures of his dick?”

You could see Seokjin fidget awkwardly next to you. “Yes, a few nights ago.” You replied honestly. If you wanted him to understand, to potentially forgive you, you needed to be truthful.

“Did you like it? Did you enjoy it?”

You felt your stomach knot. Had you? That was still up in the air, and you hated that he was asking you this in front of Seokjin. Couldn’t he ask him to leave? It was like Yoongi wanted him there, liked watching him squirm.

“I don’t know.” Honest. You needed to be honest. “I think I enjoyed knowing he was still thinking about me.” There. You weren’t a cheat no, but that for sure crossed some lines. It was a grey area, and that’s why you’d been racked with guilt ever since Tuesday night.

Yoongi’s emotions remained hidden. It didn’t help that you’d never seen him angry before so you had no clue what to look out for. This room felt like it was closing in on you now, the air stuffy. Seokjin and Yoongi both felt so close. It made you feel funny.

“I was drunk and I feel really bad about it,” Seokjin interjected, once again trying to take the fall. Ah, so he had been drunk…

“You wanted to have sex with her not two minutes ago,” Yoongi bit, finally acknowledging him. The tension was suffocating. Something felt like it was about to happen and you preyed it wasn’t a fight.

“I was just talking shit. I know she’s with you,” Seokjin insisted. “She really likes you, man.” Hearing that made you feel funny. You didn’t know why. Didn’t really have time to ponder it. Yoongi was rendering you speechless once again.

“She can still like me and fuck you too. She’s done it before.”

Silence.

What did that mean? Yoongi definitely didn’t sound mad. His voice was thick with something, you just couldn’t place what. You stared at him, desperate to understand. Beside you Seokjin chuckled. “I see.”

He did? How come he got it and you didn’t? Yoongi’s attention turned to the other guy. They stared one another down, waiting for something – deciding something?

Finally it was Seokjin that spoke again, looking back and forth at you and Yoongi as he spoke – suggested something. “Maybe she can fuck both of us?”

Between your legs clenched despite the shock you felt. You stared at Yoongi, noticing his dark eyes again. Oh. You understood then. Instantly. They weren’t hard or black with anger. They were hard and black with lust. He’d been turned on this entire time. Maybe mad too, but that was probably because he couldn’t understand nor explain his emotions.

“Do you want to?” He asked, voice gentle like you were used to. He sounded more like the Yoongi you knew, the one you’d fallen for.

You needed a moment to think. Not to decide, but more so prepare yourself. You were getting hotter by the moment, the air around you heavy. It made sense now, you saw now, you had been drowning in sexual tension. You nodded slowly. Seokjin, waiting your answer too, inched in closer. You wanted to ask Now? But that seemed like a stupid question. Of course it was now. It was now or never.

Seokjin’s hands took you by the hips, spinning you to face him and you soundlessly gasped. Just feeling him touch you again was earth shattering. You hesitated though, looking back at Yoongi who simply nodded his head, giving you his permission. He was giving you his permission to fuck another man. He wanted you to fuck another man. This was too surreal.

You turned back to Seokjin. Not ten minutes prior you’d been mad at him, now your insides bubbled with something else… Your gaze fell to his mouth. His plump lips that seemed to crease with concern for a moment. “Only if you’re really sure?” He murmured. You blinked up at him, hunger becoming hard to ignore. You could smell him, that scent you were so familiar with, the scent that reminded you of all those months spent exploring one another’s bodies. There was nothing wrong with this. Not when you all wanted the same thing.

“I’m sure,” you replied, giving him a confident smile. If Yoongi was okay with this then there was no problem. If Yoongi wanted this, then it was fine. Your unclear emotions were almost justified.

Seokjin couldn’t wait a second longer to get his mouth on you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him consume you. You’d missed Seokjin’s mouth so much. The kiss was quick and intense, like he was desperate for the sensation and he wasted no time in pushing his tongue inside your mouth. You moaned without realising, clashing your muscle against his eagerly. You’d been under the impression this would never happen again, but here you were, making out with him shamelessly in front of Yoongi. Seokjin grunted, one of his hands reaching behind you to give your ass a rub. You pressed up into him, liking it when you felt his growing erection. You always had made him hard so easily. Nothing had changed.

Pulling away eventually, needing some air, you looked Yoongi’s way immediately. Embarrassment washed over you for a moment, you’d almost forgotten he was there. His eyes were still hard, pinned on you. “Yoongi?” You asked cautiously. Was he getting second thoughts?

“He’s fine,” Seokjin husked against you ear, pulling you closer. “Aren’t you?” He directed at Yoongi. You couldn’t see his reply, Seokjin in your way now, distracting you as he nipped at your earlobe. Your knees grew weak. “He likes it.” You let out a shaky breath. You didn’t know whether it was the admission or the way Seokjin’s tongue traced down your neck. “You do too.” His words rumbled against your throat, and once again you were able to glance across at your boyfriend.

His eyes were darting everywhere now; Seokjin’s mouth on your skin, his hand on your ass, but mostly he liked where your two bodies met, right in the middle. You felt relieved. You felt free, and you smiled, rubbing against Seokjin purposely. “So do you. You’re hard.”

He chuckled. “Busted.” He rolled the flesh of your ass in both hands now, grinding you against the tent in his black jeans. “I’m always fucking hard because of you.”

You managed to look at Yoongi once more before Seokjin was kissing you again, stealing your attention and your sanity. This was like some sort of forbidden fantasy. Who knew you’d be into something like this? Not you. You vaguely remembered Seokjin bringing it up once, definitely talking shit, so turned on every thought was driving him wild. It had been fantasy then, now it was real. Or, at least it would be real soon enough.

You felt electric as Seokjin slid a hand up your dress, gripping the flesh of your ass for real now. He pinged your thong and you moaned loudly. You knew you were already growing wet, you could feel the heaviness of your arousal. You needed him. It had been way too long. Just knowing Yoongi was watching you fuelled you even further. You wondered what he was thinking, if he liked what he saw. His girlfriend getting felt up by another guy right in front of his eyes. Was he hard too? You wanted to find out. You wanted both of them.

Pulling away Seokjin looked in Yoongi’s direction. “Lock the door.” Your stomach dipped, Seokjin kissing you once again, and you heard the sound of Yoongi’s boots across the wooden floor, the click of the lock. This was really happening. You were going to fuck both of them.

Yoongi’s footsteps came closer and Seokjin abruptly twisted you around. You gasped as you found yourself in Yoongi’s arms now, his fingers gripping into your waist as his dark eyes found yours. “Yoongi—

He cut you off with a kiss. It was just as urgent as Seokjin’s, but harder. A lot harder. He hadn’t kissed you this rough before. It took your breath away. It was as if he was overcome with lust and he needed you now. He needed this now. You could taste the beer on him, reminding you that all three of you were pretty intoxicated right now. You weren’t drunk by any means, but the alcohol you’d consumed had definitely eased you up tonight. Likewise for Yoongi and Seokjin too.

Yoongi grunted as he kissed you, tongue thrashing against yours as he tried to taste you everywhere. He was touching the roof of your mouth, licking against your teeth, sucking your tongue inside his mouth, taking over you effectively. You clung to him in the end, needing to be rooted.

When he pulled back you instantly tried for more, but he stopped you, taking one of your hands instead to wrap it around his erection. “Looks like you’re magic,” he smirked.

That smirk was the first positive reaction you’d gotten. Something concrete that showed his enjoyment. He was breathing loudly, the kiss having taken it out of him. You thought you were out of breath too but you felt so alive.

Yoongi and you had never really talked about sexual fantasies yet, it hadn’t come up. Actually, in comparison your sex life was completely different to what you and Seokjin once had, but you’d already thought this, already knew this. Seeing Yoongi act like this was hot. It was sexy. It was unbelievable.

He gripped the back of your head to smash your lips together again, his eyes on Seokjin as the other guy took a seat on the edge of the bed. Breaking away, Yoongi took your hand and marched you over to him, to which you gladly obeyed, leaning over his body to kiss him again. Seokjin widened his legs, falling back to let you slot inside and wrapped his arms around your middle.

“Seeing as you missed her so much,” Yoongi taunted, standing over you both as he watched. Seokjin took no notice. He either didn’t care or wasn’t even paying attention in the first place.

Knowing Yoongi was deriving pleasure from this only doubled yours and not long after that you were pulling apart from Seokjin’s lips, a panting mess, to reach for the buttons on his jeans. You dropped to your knees and he sat up, watching you, mouth open as he breathed heavily.

“Sucking my dick already?” He teased.

You ignored him, too desperate now as you fought with the fabric. It was stretched so tight over his thighs you had a hard time freeing his dick, but you won, finally feeling the smooth, hard flesh of his cock in your hand.

As you ran your fist up and down him steadily, warming up, you heard Yoongi chuckle. “So the rumours are true. Impressive.”

You looked up at Seokjin, curious for his reaction. He laughed back. “Of course they are. Although, it’s only impressive if you know how to use it.” He paused, looking down at you. “I do. Ask your girlfriend.” Between your legs pulsed, memories stirring.

Yoongi scoffed but other than that said nothing, and eager, you lowered your head, really, really wanting to suck dick. Seokjin’s dick. It twitched in your palm as he gave you an enthusiastic grunt, taking hold of your shoulder as you took him into your mouth. “Fuck,” he hissed, watching you pull off to swirl your tongue around the sensitive head, digging the tip of the muscle into the slit, knowing it made his thighs tremble. Said thighs were hard with tension, his boxers and jeans digging a line into the skin. You took him back inside, pushing as far as you could get before gagging. He arched his back swallowing down a yelp. You guessed he wanted to look cool, calm and collected in front of Yoongi. Cute.

You moaned enthusiastically around him, wanting him to react more. You made sure to jerk your fist against the flesh you couldn’t reach, making your mouth wetter, making your actions louder. You looked up at him, making eye contact. He buckled. “Ah, f-fuck.” He started knocking his hips to the rhythm, you let him fuck your mouth shallowly.

Extending an arm behind you, you reached for Yoongi, coming into contact with his leg, and you gripped it tightly. He stepped closer.

“Don’t worry, he’s still here,” Seokjin said, eyes looking up and behind you. “He’s enjoying the show. Likes watching you choking on big dick.” You moaned, unable to stop yourself.

That was when Yoongi suddenly crouched beside you, hand reaching to stroke your hair attentively before he was gripping the back of your neck, stilling you, lodging Seokjin’s dick inside your mouth.

“Yeah,” he husked. “I’m enjoying myself.” He kissed your temple gently, as if to reassure you. God, you were so turned on. You needed to get touched before you burst.

“Can you take him deeper? I fail to believe you never have.”

Fuck. Yoongi had never spoken to you like this before. He wasn’t really a lover of dirty talk, but this was more than that. It was real, raw. He meant every word and he wanted this. His grip eased up on your neck, letting you pull off Seokjin’s cock to prepare a breath. When you took him inside again, you pushed deeper, just to satisfy Yoongi – and Seokjin in the process of course. When you audibly choked Yoongi growled with pleasure.

“Fuuck,” Seokjin cursed as you came up for air. Not really having much of a moment to compose himself before Yoongi was helping to guide your head down again. This time you got to the base of Seokjin’s cock, jaw aching as you concentrated on breathing out of your nose and not on the word ‘gag’. With watery eyes you looked at Seokjin and forced yourself to swallow around his girth. He jerked up, crying out. “—Swallow—h–holy fuck, I forgot how good your throat felt—mother fuck—”

This time as you tried to repeat you gagged, a loud retching noise tearing from your throat and Yoongi let go of you, letting you come up for air, panting loudly. Some of your saliva slid from the corner of your mouth and you wiped it away quickly, ignoring the burn in your jaw. Some had even collected in the little hairs that covered his groin. They shone in the overhead lighting.

“Baby, I think he’s close already,” Yoongi chuckled, taking a look at Seokjin, highly amused.

Seokjin’s thighs were so tense the muscle looked almost aggressive, patches of red littering the flesh. It travelled up his neck too, flushed his face as he tried for breath. It was good to know you still had the same effect on him.

However, distracted he shot a look your way. “I thought you said he didn’t call you baby.” You just shrugged.

“I can call her whatever I want,” Yoongi informed the other guy. “She’s my girlfriend.” He stood you up, body in front of yours as he watched Seokjin on the bed. “My girlfriend,” he repeated, running his hand up and down your back. You glanced at him, despite his loving action his eyes were still dark, a fire you’d never seen in them before. “I’m the one giving you permission to get your dick sucked by her.”

Seokjin just chuckled quietly, uncaring that his dick was still out, drenched in your spit. In fact, he began to run his own fist along the length now. You found yourself staring. “Thanks for being so kind. Can I fuck her too?”

Please. Your body pretty much ached for his dick. You wondered if you could still take him. You thought you could. It hadn’t been that long, and besides, you’d always been a pro when it came to that.

“Not yet,” Yoongi dismissed. “It’s my turn first.” He pushed gently at your shoulders, signalling for you to drop in front of him. You listened, your face meeting his crotch.

“Fair is fair,” Seokjin breezed.

Yoongi’s dick was a lot more manageable. You held onto his thighs as you let him thrust in and out of your mouth, curling your tongue along the underside of the flesh as he did so, swirling it around the tip – making a show of it.

“Mhm, fuck,” he muttered, running his fingers through your hair before holding your head still, lodging his cock all the way inside your mouth. He held you close, the tip of your nose pressing into the hem of his t-shirt as you forced yourself to swallow around him.

Okay, yes Yoongi’s dick was smaller than Seokjin’s but that didn’t mean you weren’t struggling to deepthroat him. His hips bucked into you once when he felt you choke, and he eased away quickly after that, his face shiny as he remained breathless.

He bent to ran a finger along your lips, wiping away some of your spit that had collected in the corner. “You’re dribbling you love cock so much.”

You had no doubt by now that you were drenched down below. You could feel the way your thong stuck to you as you shuffled on your knees, pressing your thighs together as you moaned and tugged his boxers down lower. You took him in your palm, spreading your spit into his length as you moved closer. Aware that Seokjin was watching, you dipped your head and took one of Yoongi’s balls into your mouth, sucking the soft flesh gently as you looked up at your boyfriend innocently. His mouth had fallen open, brows creasing together, face crinkled up as he moaned softly. You smiled mischievously around him, a twinkle in your eyes and he loved it. You thought Seokjin did too, hearing him fidget around on the bed. You pulled back, tongue pointing as you traced patterns against the sensitive skin.

That was it. Yoongi had to stop you with shaky hands. “Fuck, okay, stop,” he chuckled almost bashfully, running a hand through his blonde hair that had fallen in his eyes. You smiled as you stood, that was the Yoongi you knew.

“Now who’s close to coming,” Seokjin taunted.

“You’re both like putty in my hands,” you grinned, looking back and forth between them. They both wanted you. It made you feel powerful.

“Then let’s change that up,” Seokjin suggested. “We pleasure you.”

You liked the sound of that. Yoongi did too. He pulled his boxers and jeans up, leaving them undone as he came up behind you, slinking his hands around your waist. “What do you have in mind?” He asked Seokjin.

He shrugged. “What’s Yoongi good at?”

You didn’t even need to think about it. It was obvious, you’d told Yoongi himself so many times before. “Eating me out.”

Yoongi lived for the act, which was great because oral was your favourite. He knew how to make you cum in minutes, which was pretty insane. From the first ever time his tongue had met your clit you knew that’s where it belonged. You’d gladly get eaten out right now. Seokjin could follow suit if he liked. The more the merrier.

“Then let me watch,” Seokjin smirked.

Yoongi immediately began scooting you to the bed, eager to get started, and you kicked off your shoes, Yoongi copying. His erection pressed into your ass and instantly you searched for Seokjin’s, but just like Yoongi he’d put it away. He’d kicked off his sneakers and jeans though, just in his boxers and white long sleeved top. He moved to the top of the bed, throwing a plushie of a character that was vaguely familiar to you on the floor as he did so. Luckily he landed face first, saved from any further debauchery. The poor thing had already had an eyeful. You crawled into the middle, Yoongi following. Like you couldn’t help it you reached for Seokjin, connecting your lips. He was ready, tongue snaking with yours, his hands travelling down your back and over your ass. Behind you, Yoongi put his hand up the skirt of your dress, rubbing your heat over your panties.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he gasped. “What the fuck.” You were swamped, the cotton stuck to your flesh, and if you listened carefully you could hear yourself squelching.

Seokjin broke apart from you, interest piqued. “Let me feel. Turn around.” You didn’t quite understand what he wanted so you let him direct you around, sitting you on your butt as he shuffled forward, pressing your back into his chest.

Yoongi helped hike up your dress before sliding down the bed on his knees, ready for action. You spread your legs, letting Seokjin loop his arm around so his hand could travel down your body. He slid it straight inside your underwear, dipping his fingers into your arousal before spreading it up to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his forefinger. You moaned sweetly, pushing back into him. He tsked. “Namjoon’s going to wonder why his sheets are soaked through…”

Fuck. It was Namjoon’s bed. He was too nice for this to happen to him. Thinking about it, how the hell were you here again, hooking up at a party? You kept swearing this would never happen again and again and yet… You blamed Seokjin. It was always Seokjin.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” you groaned, attempting to look up at him. He kissed you again, laughing as he did so, his other hand cupping a breast.

Yoongi’s impatient hands rubbed at your thighs and you moaned again. You loved having all these hands on you. It felt unbelievable. Eagerly he started to pull your thong down, getting you out of it completely as Seokjin continued to tease between your legs. He eventually stopped, his sticky fingers making their way to your mouth, pressing one inside. You cleaned it up, looking in his eyes the entire time. After he was done, he took the second in his mouth, obviously enjoying yourself. You guessed Yoongi was into it too because with a grunt he was on top of you, kissing you hungrily, tasting your arousal on your lips. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, caged between both men. You could feel Seokjin’s erection against your back, Yoongi’s digging into your thigh.

“Yoongiii,” you whined, pulling away, lips surely swollen by now. “What’s a girl gotta do to get eaten out around here.”

“Patience,” he smirked, but he made his way back down your body, placing your feet to the bed as you bent your legs at the knee, spreading them wider. You watched as he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, wetting it, his face etched with concentration before he dived in.

He went straight for your clit, sucking with fervour before pulling back slightly to flick the tip of his tongue repeatedly. You groaned, arching your back instantly. Seokjin awed against your ear, holding your waist, his chin on your shoulder as he watched Yoongi at work. This was crazy, but so, so hot.

“Literally have the best fucking view right now,” Seokjin half moaned, pulling the skirt of your dress up further, a peek of your stomach on show, tensing erratically with the pleasure. “You honest to god love getting eaten out.” You moaned in response, agreeing wholeheartedly. “Is he better than me?” He asked, messing around.

You laughed breathlessly. “Maybe.”

Seokjin nipped at your neck lightly as Yoongi dragged his tongue up your whole heat, grunting in pleasure. You were honestly so wet, it clung to the inside of your thighs, run down your ass. Yoongi was just making things messier, eating you out like it was his last meal. The tip of tongue dug against your clit and you gasped out, hole clenching around nothingness, desperate to be filled up.

“I haven’t fucked you yet—then you’ll remember what you’re missing.” Seokjin whispered in your ear, continuing his conversation.

Yoongi heard, although you doubted Seokjin was purposely trying to stay quiet. “We’ll see,” he mused, pulling away to flash a look Seokjin’s way just as he pushed two of his fingers inside your soaking entrance.

You cried out, head falling back against Seokjin’s shoulder. He grunted at the sight, watching Yoongi fuck you with his fingers as you kept on moaning. You took his digits easily and greedily, so aroused you didn’t even need a warmup. As if he couldn’t stop it Seokjin crashed his lips against yours, swallowing the noises you made just as Yoongi went back to going down on you.

Haphazardly, Seokjin began to free the buttons down the bodice of your dress. “Let’s see your body,” he spoke through swipes of his tongue, freeing your torso, your bra the only thing you had left on now, as your own hands tore at the buttons on the skirt. Your dress feel apart, stuck under your sweaty back. His tongue was everywhere, similar to Yoongi’s earlier; flicking against your teeth, roof of your mouth, your lips… It was messy and eager. Fully uncontrolled.

“Can’t believe we’re doing this right now,” he murmured, mouth now at your ear. You squirmed, sensory overload, shaky moans all you gave him in response. You were going to cum if this kept up.

Yoongi’s fingers curled against your g-spot with intent, stopping his ministrations for a moment to chuckle. “Hey, if it’s what I have to do to get you off her ass, then I’ll do it – and I’ll enjoy myself in the process,” he added, smirking, still fingering you.

Fuck. This wasn’t your Yoongi. The Yoongi you were used to. The way he was speaking, the way he was acting, it was doing things to you. You felt like you were going to explode, pleasure building up. “Yoongi,” you begged, gasping for breath as he spread his fingers inside of you, stretching you open. “Please make me cum.”

“Why should I let you?” He teased, cocking an eyebrow as he kissed up your shaky thigh. “Do you deserve it? You were messaging another guy after all…”

“That was totally my fault,” Seokjin said, his voice strained he was so turned on. “Make her cum.” He wanted to see it.

Yoongi connected his mouth to your clit again, sucking it, his fingers straightening as he fucked you with them harshly. You tensed up, moaning, begging for release. You could cry it was so close. Seokjin kissed your neck like crazy, sucking red marks on the skin.

“I’m gon—mhm, oh fuck—fuck,” you tumbled out, unable to be coherent as you threw your head forward, clutching at Seokjin’s body behind you. You watched Yoongi as your orgasm hit, seeing spots, head dizzy. He slowed his motions, bringing you down gradually, dragging your pleasure out to the last millisecond.

He placed one last kiss to your core before beginning to travel up your body instead, kissing your stomach, your chest, staining you, humming against your trembling skin. Seokjin kissed your mouth again, Yoongi at your neck soon after, licking strips up the column before nibbling your ear. You felt as if you were sinking into the bed. You moaned softly, Seokjin pulling away, perfect timing for Yoongi to steal you instead, tongue pushing into your mouth, tasting yourself as Seokjin’s hand moved down your body.

You arched your back when you felt him push a finger inside of you, exploring your wet and warm insides before he added a second. Your heart jumped when you felt another hand between your legs too and you pulled away from Yoongi’s mouth to look down, seeing one of his fingers pushing inside your entrance too. He grinned when he noticed your reaction and you gave up, setting your head on Seokjin’s shoulder as they both tried to finger you at the same time. It was messy and off beat. If you were being honest, more uncomfortable than pleasurable, but just the visual seemed to do the trick. The thought of being able to fit both their dicks inside you at the same time flew into your head, and you had to stop yourself, knowing you were getting a little too crazy. You were losing your head. Maybe you already had.

“Fuck,” Yoongi exclaimed. “This is… This is so hot.” You moaned with what you hoped was enthusiasm, still exhausted from your orgasm. “You’re dirty,” your boyfriend gleed, voice an excited whisper.

“She’s always been dirty,” Seokjin stated matter-of-factly.

“How so,” Yoongi asked, highly curious, head tilted. He removed his finger, choosing instead to rub your thigh, enjoying the sight of Seokjin’s fingers inside his girlfriend’s pussy… God, you’d totally lost it. Throwing around the P word like it didn’t make you cringe.

“She almost let me fuck her in the ass once.”

“Why almost?”

Hearing them speak about you like you weren’t there was hot and it only turned you on even more. You shuffled, wedged between their bodies, desperate for more. If they could get to fucking you that would be great.

“Well,” Seokjin shrugged, “you came along and she broke up with me.”

Broke up with him? What an odd way of putting it. You wondered if he’d been way more bothered than he let on when you’d ended things? No, don’t be stupid. This was all talk between two guys. Same as all that talk about ass fucking was to rile Seokjin up when you’d been hooking up. It wasn’t real. You weren’t going to let him fuck you in the ass.

“Keep dreaming, Kim,” you sang to which he laughed loudly.

Yoongi sat up, looking at you both. “I think she wants you to fuck her now.” Your heart started to thud loudly in anticipation.

“Is that true?” Seokjin asked, slipping his fingers from you.

You nodded quickly, a smirk on your face as you looked at him. “Get on with it before I change my mind.”

“Please,” he scoffed, as if you ever could.

Yoongi moved to the head of the bed now, back against the headboard as Seokjin lied you down, kneeling over you to pry apart your legs, but you keep upright on your elbows, wanting to get a good view as your hand run over his chest and torso, tugging at his top.

“Off,” you motioned with your head and he obliged, ripping it over his head, revealing his toned torso. “Fuck,” you uttered, running your fingers across the hard skin.

He smirked. “Missed me?”

“Just your body,” you deadpanned, a glint in your eyes that told him you were only teasing.

He chuckled, pulling down his boxers, his cock bouncing out. He jerked it a couple of times before leaning forward, a hand against the mattress. He paused, looking at you. “Wait. Are we using a condom because I don’t have any.”

Oh. You hadn’t thought about that. You were so used to having sex with Seokjin without any it had slipped your mind. “I mean,” you turned your head to glance at Yoongi, checking to see if he had any concerns. He seemed fine so you looked back at Seokjin. “Is it safe?”

He knew what you meant. Had he fucked anyone else unprotected since you? He nodded his head. “Yeah. I haven’t…” He trailed off with a shrug, glancing at Yoongi himself, checking for his permission. Your boyfriend didn’t say anything so you guessed he was okay with it. You were a little distracted though. Seokjin hadn’t what? Fucked anyone raw since, or fucked anyone at all since? You were more than positive it was the former, and once again you felt a little weird imagining him getting in on with other people. It was stupid, definitely hypocritical and you would never admit to it, but you felt it.

“Come on, we don’t have all night,” Yoongi pressed from behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts. “What if this Namjoon dude wants his room back?”

Seokjin scowled, not liking being bossed about. “You can’t rush a good thing. I know you’re eager to watch your girlfriend get fucked by another guy but patience is key.”

Your heat pulsed as you listened to them bicker. It was kind of hot in a fucked up way. Yoongi breathed out a laugh, ignoring him. You held your breath when you felt the head of Seokjin’s dick against your entrance, unable to stop clenching in anticipation.

“It takes patience to take a dick this big,” he continued, not looking at Yoongi despite his words being directed at him. You would disagree though. You could take Seokjin’s dick easily, despite size, he was just trying to goad Yoongi.

Although, as he began to push inside you, your walls swallowing the tip, the sting became apparent. Your mouth opened in a silent moan as he sunk further, your eyes on Seokjin the entire time, his expression matching yours. You almost forgot Yoongi was there watching you until you felt him move, the mattress squeaking as he shuffled closer to your body, intent on getting a better look. He laid his legs to the side of you, slotting in behind your back and you rested your shoulders and head halfway between his stomach and crotch, letting the pressure ease off your elbows as Seokjin started to thrust his way fully inside. Stretching you out inch by inch until you finally had him whole.

“Unggh,” you moaned, pushing yourself into Yoongi. He gently pushed your hair out of your eyes, looking down at you. His eyes glistened with excitement. He really was enjoying this.

Impatient, unable to pace himself now that he was finally inside you again – like he’d wanted – Seokjin began to fuck you faster, thrusting with a grunt each time, hands now gripping your hips, knees pressing into the mattress. “Have you missed this?” He got out. “Me fucking you. I bet you imagined it a couple of times, right?”

“In your dreams,” Yoongi scoffed above you.

Seokjin shot him a glare. “You’d never know anyway. It’s not something she’d admit to.”

Men, you thought, inwardly rolling your eyes, so competitive. You looked up at Yoongi, trying to watch his expression as Seokjin fucked you. The fingers of one hand tugged at his bottom lip, the apples of his cheeks flushed. He was breathing quite loudly. His cock dug into your neck, still as hard as ever – harder in fact – his eyes glazed over as he watched Seokjin’s cock thrust in and out of you.

“This okay?” Seokjin asked you, feeling his hands grip the back of knees as he started to push them up, trying to fold your legs into your body, wanting to hit deeper. You nodded rapidly, a moan tearing your throat.

Yoongi gave a helping hand, pulling you upright by the armpits before deciding to drag you up the bed a little further, wanting to use the headboard as a rest. Seokjin shuffled awkwardly along with you both, still half inside you, still gripping your thighs loosely. You guessed threesomes in real life weren’t as easy nor glamourous.

Yoongi sat you between his legs somehow, your body now pressing into his chest as Seokjin got your legs up higher, hooking them over his shoulders, and he held your thighs, started to fuck you again, finding his rhythm, a mess of throaty groans. You moaned loudly, the bass of the music downstairs thudding in your ears. You were squashed between both men again. It felt so good.

“Is that good, baby?” Yoongi hummed in your ear and you nodded madly, trying to get words out but all you could manage was a few huffs of breath, a strangled whine. Yoongi’s fingertips traced ever so lightly around your stomach, making you shudder, before they worked their way down to your pelvis. He few seconds later he pinched your clit. You cried out, jutting your hips into Seokjin.

Your legs were shaking now, despite being propped up by Seokjin’s shoulders, you couldn’t take anymore. You nudged him with one of your feet, holding back his thrusts to drop a leg down. It was still bent at the knee and you were still cramped between the guys but at least you weren’t trembling like jelly anymore. One leg stayed hooked around the broadness of his shoulders though. You’d missed that feeling.

“I think you should cum,” Yoongi carried on, voice low. “Give him something to remember. One last time.”

Seokjin snickered. “I have a lot of memories. I’ll add it to the collection.”

You moaned at that, loving the thought of Seokjin thinking about all the times you’d fucked. Yoongi started to rub your clit with the flats of his index and middle fingers, getting them all juicy. “Oh, god,” you sighed, feeling weak.

“Yeah, be a good girl and cum for us,” Seokjin smirked down at you, reminding you of all the times he’d goaded you like that before. Cocky fucker.

You let it affect you though, concentrating on the pleasure both men were giving you, watching Seokjin’s cock thrust in and out of you, Yoongi’s deft fingers stimulating you something addictive. Squelch, squelch, squelch. That’s how you went.

“Seokjin,” you moaned, looking up at him now, mouth agape. His hips stuttered, a groan leaving him. He better not cum before you.

“Shit,” Yoongi cursed, voice thick as he watched you start to lose it. “I can’t wait to fuck you too. My dick’s about to burst.” You moaned louder, hearing him speak like that driving you crazier. Your head was spinning, unable to focus on everything at once.

Seokjin drilled you harder, expression determined. “You look so hot like this,” he panted.

“Gonna cum?” Yoongi pressed, feeling the way your clit was pulsing against his fingers. Seokjin could feel you squeezing around his cock. You nodded, an exerted cry trapping in your throat. “That’s my girl.”

Yoongi’s praise set your body alight, and he tilted your head back to look directly at Seokjin. “Watch him and moan his name, because it’s the last time he’ll ever hear it.”

“Ouch,” Jin feigned, chuckling slightly, but you were already too busy moaning his name to really pay attention. It fell from you easily, like it always had. You rolled into his thrusts, cramped and sweaty but it didn’t matter. Not when you finally fell over the edge, your orgasm tearing through your body. You came all over his cock, Yoongi’s fingers, crying out. Immediately Yoongi dropped his hand, but you weren’t done yet. Nuh uh, no way.

“Jesus fucking christ, you’re so fucking horny,” he exclaimed in disbelief, laughing, in awe of the way you continued to chase Seokjin’s cock, fucked out yet still so desperate. Yet to your disappointment Seokjin pulled out, gripping the base of his dick with a grunt.

“What you doing?” You demanded. You’d wanted him to finish too. To cum inside you.

Seokjin caught his breath, letting your leg down gently as he moved back, tugging up his underwear. “I wanna watch him fuck you before I cum.”

Your gut squeezed, watching him make his way around you, swapping places with Yoongi as your boyfriend sat you forward before crawling in front of you, cupping your face to kiss you enthusiastically. He pulled away and grinned at Seokjin. “I get it, you’re a masochist.” You couldn’t see Seokjin’s reaction, but whatever it was, it amused Yoongi.

Eyes full of lust he turned back to you. “Turn around so you’re facing him.”

You jumped to it, bouncing down on your knees to see Seokjin already sat comfy against the headboard. He cocked an eyebrow. “You like fucking her doggy too?”

Yoongi scoffed but otherwise ignored his jab. Getting behind you, you heard him push his jeans and boxers down, his hands massaging your ass, spreading it to get a good look at your – there it was that word again – pussy. There was a pause, like he was absorbing the view, you almost started to feel a little self-conscious, exposed as you waited, and then you heard him take an intake of breath, knocking the wind out of you as he shoved his cock inside you whole. All in on go.

You flew forward, crying out, but he started thrusting immediately, just making you moan harder, louder. “Ah—Yoongi! Fuck, oh my god.” The bed shook with his movements. You gripped the bedsheets between your fingers.

Seokjin groaned, eyes soaked in everything. “I knew this would be good.”

Yoongi spanked your ass and you squealed playfully, looking into Seokjin’s eyes now, a grin on your face. He was entranced, mouth open, mimicking your moans silently, as if he couldn’t help it. You noticed him rub his dick through his boxers, and you reached over to give him a helping hand. He pulsed from your touch, even above the fabric.

“Shit,” he mumbled, hesitating before he reaching for something by the side of you. Your cell phone. It must have fallen out of the pocket of your dress. “Let me do something…”

“What?” You managed to ask, still getting fucked pretty hard by Yoongi. You watched him unlock your phone – passcode still the same. “You’re not taking any pictures.” You told him, automatically realising what he was playing at.

“A video,” he smirked. He watched your mouth open in shock. “You’ve let me take pictures before. It’s on your phone, you can delete it at any time.” He was determined to persuade you. He tried one last time. “I want you to see how hot you look.”

“Fine,” you gave in. You wouldn’t say no to that.

His face lit up. “Yeah?”

“Thirty seconds tops,” you told him.

“Of course,” he agreed, eyes flickering to Yoongi behind you. You guessed he was looking for his consent too. Your boyfriend didn’t object, so Seokjin scrolled across the screen until he hit video and pressed start. He knelt up to get a good angle, your face fully in the camera, the sounds of Yoongi thrusting into you and grunting filling the speakers. “How do you feel?” He asked playfully.

You looked straight into the lens, grinning. “I feel great. Can’t you tell?” On cue, Yoongi gave you another smack. You yelped.

“I bet you do,” Seokjin husked, filming you for a few seconds longer, pulling back to get your body in the shot as Yoongi continued to fuck you like a machine. Where had he got all this drive from? You were struggling to keep yourself up.

“You’re out of this world.” Seokjin mused, a click as he ended the recording. That made your heart flutter. You couldn’t explain it. Was it the admiration in his voice? The look on his face as he said it? You didn’t know.

“I’m a lucky guy, right?” Yoongi bragged, interrupting your momentary confusion.

“You are,” you teased, laugh strained as you felt Yoongi pull your ass cheeks apart, rubbing the meat with his palms.

It caught Seokjin’s attention as he tilted his head to the side and watched. “You know if you really want her to go wild you should put that thumb to good use.” His eyes fell to yours, a small smirk spreading before he looked at Yoongi,

“Thanks,” Yoongi replied icily, thrusts slowing down. “But I don’t need your input on how to make my girl feel good.”

Seokjin laughed, genuinely amused, but now you were thinking again. You hoped Yoongi would listen. He was dragging his dick inside of you now, painfully deliberate. Ever so carefully, much to your delight, you felt his thumb inch closer to the spot that now ached for him. You jerked when he made contact, rubbing the sensitive hole with the pad.

“Wet it,” Seokjin whispered, watching intently. You could tell he was pleased Yoongi had listened.

Yoongi brought his thumb to your clit, getting it wet but also giving it an appreciative rub in the process. He spread you apart again, thumb at the crack of your ass soon after, now wet and sticky as he rubbed, applying more pressure, getting confident. “Is this okay?” He asked gently, and you gave him a little moan, a yes following soon after.

“Oh, fuck!” You gasped when you felt him enter you, slowly popping inside as he continued to drag his cock against your cushioned walls.

“You like my thumb in your ass?” He asked, definitely confident now, and your belly began doing crazy somersaults.

“Mmhm,” you moaned. “It feels so good, Yoongi.” The extra stimulation you needed.

Seokjin got in front of your face, sweeping hair away from your eyes, locking it behind your ear before you lunged at him, desperate for his mouth. You were greedy for both men. You kissed him without restrain, licking, moaning into his mouth until he couldn’t take much more, panting as he pulled away. “Wanna suck my dick again?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. God, you really did. “Please.” He was kneeling up straight away, pulling his cock from his underwear once again. He started jerking himself off and you opened your mouth, curling your tongue out to catch the tip, purposely teasing him. Seokjin chuckled, trying to evade your movements so he could get the head in your mouth.

You gave in soon enough, sucking him inside, putting on a show, lashes weighted as you stared up at him. He always did love that and he moaned on cue, pushing further into your mouth. He held the back of your head, beginning to fuck your mouth carefully, in rhythm with Yoongi’s thrusts. It felt amazing. To be full of both men. You moaned around Seokjin’s cock just from the thought. Yoongi loved that, pressing a foot into the bed to fuck you deeper – harder.

Gurgling, mouth stuffed, you attempted to cry out, your knees instantly trembling from the force. “Fuck,” Seokjin breathed, hips stuttering as he looked behind you, watching Yoongi go.

“I’m close,” Yoongi breathed, yet the snap of his hips didn’t slow. “You can cum again, baby, surely? One last time for me.” Yoongi encouraged. He’d never beg. You clenched around his cock, body instantly agreeing.

“She can no problem,” Seokjin grinned, although it was strained, teeth bared almost. He was close too. He knew your body well. Knew you well.

You were so turned on you couldn’t think straight, the pleasure coursing through your body, your veins. You wanted their cum. You moaned loudly around Seokjin’s cock, vibrations making him buck into your mouth faster, chasing his relief.

“Want me to cum on your face?” He got out between a sharp intake of breath. You nodded your head, another moan because replying was pretty impossible with your mouth full of his dick. “Yoongi?” Seokjin asked, looking across at your boyfriend, an eyebrow raised. “Do you want me to cum on your girlfriend’s face?”

You heard him chuckle. “If you’re trying to make me jealous it won’t work. Go for it.” At his words, he circled his thumb softly in your ass, the pleasure tingling up your spine. You were so fricking sensitive. You felt so good.

Belly doing flips, Seokjin tore from your mouth, jerking his length with intent, aiming directly for your face. You moaned his name, looking him straight in the eyes , helping him along as his breathing shook – helping yourself along because as he let out a gasp, the first shot of warm cum landing on your cheek, you came too, clamping around Yoongi’s dick as you cried out.

“Shit, shit,” Yoongi panted, his thrusts getting messy instantly as he prepared to cum. “Keep on squeezing like that baby—fuuuck,” he whined, thumb dislodging from your ass as he became overwhelmed, gripping your hips tightly, ramming himself inside you tight as he filled you up.

Seokjin groaned as he got every last drop of his cum on your face, aiming it mostly on your cheeks and mouth, a hand threaded through your hair and just before he was spent, you took him back in your mouth, sucking the tip dry, until he was hissing, sensitive and unable to handle it. He lazily rubbed the head across your lips, smearing his cum on purpose, enjoying the sight with a tiny smile.

Behind you Yoongi slid out of you, giving your clit a quick rub with the flats of his fingers for good measure. You jerked forward with a squeal, hearing Yoongi know pull up his pants and zip up his jeans. “Fuck,” he rasped, stumbling over to you. The bed dipped and bounced with his weight. “Let me see your face.”

Seokjin tugged his boxers up, sitting back against the headboard as he caught his breath. He watched you both idly, but you were too distracted by Yoongi’s reaction. He loved it, a noise tearing from his throat at the sight of you. You laughed, exhausted, wanting nothing more than to roll over and pass out. You couldn’t though. For a host of reasons.

“Here,” Seokjin said, a hand holding a tissue appearing in front of your face. Yes, his cum had been one of the main reasons. You sat up and took it, wiping yourself clean as Yoongi collected your dress.

“Oh fuck,” you cursed as you dropped the tissue onto the bed cum-side down. “I got cum on Namjoon’s bed.”

Seokjin laughed and shrugged. “Don’t worry, he won’t notice. Probably think it’s his own.”

You wrinkled your nose in disgust, immediately trying to wipe it off and to your surprise Yoongi laughed along. You were bemused for a moment, the two guys laughing together an alien concept.

Seokjin took the tissue from your hand and stood up, throwing it in the trashcan. “You can’t just leave it there like that,” you exclaimed.

“Relax,” he told you. “No way will he notice.” You watched him start to get dressed, and still a little dazed you copied, searching for your underwear. You felt weirdly awkward now that it was all over, which was probably expected. This wasn’t exactly a normal situation. There was no small talk to fill the silence that followed. Even Yoongi who was sat next to you stayed quiet, probably waiting for Seokjin to leave.

And a few minutes later he did, grabbing his phone left on the desk, scratching the back of his head – a nervous tick he had. “I should probably get going.”

“Okay,” you smiled slightly, standing up, stumped for what else to say. “Um…”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, obviously feeling just as awkward. “I’ll see you around?”

You nodded. “Yeah, maybe when school starts… See you.”

Seokjin nodded, agreeing silently and unlocked the door. You opened your mouth to say something else – you didn’t know what, but Yoongi beat you to it. “Jin,” he called. Seokjin turned back. “You won’t tell anybody, right?”

Seokjin scoffed, a dig slipping from his tongue. “Of course not. Your secrets safe with me.” And then he was gone. You stood there for a moment, staring at the door. A secret. He was correct though, you couldn’t see yourself telling anybody – not even Lina (for obvious reasons…) and you couldn’t imagine Yoongi ever spilling it. Thinking about it, why had Yoongi even agreed to it in the first place? Asking him seemed wrong, too invasive.

Yoongi got up and locked the door again, turning back to you with a gentle smile. You instantly felt better. Of course you did, it was Yoongi. You didn’t need to know why he’d agreed because you didn’t know why you had either.

“Hey,” he murmured, stepping closer, throwing his arms around your middle to hold you. You leaned in, rubbing your nose against his.

“Hey,” you smiled back, reaching to kiss his mouth. He kissed you slowly, kindly, asking if you were okay when he pulled away. “Yup.” Of course you were okay when he held you. “I mean, that was pretty…crazy, but I… Are you?” You hesitated, wondering if you should apologise to him. You had lied to him after all, and he had overheard your conversation with Seokjin… Had found out about the messages… Yet, he didn’t seem mad. He didn’t seem upset, and yeah, he was fine. His reply told you just that.

“Yeah,” he chuckled quietly. “That was…hot.” His looked like he wanted to say more but chose not to continue.

“It was very hot,” you agreed, cheeks heating up with your confession. You didn’t need to feel embarrassed though. Yoongi reached for you, kissing you again, deeper this time, his tongue licking yours. You were a little distracted though, a little anxious about still being upstairs. “Maybe we should go?”

“Yeah, okay.” He laughed. “Let’s get out of here.”

Your eyes caught something yellow to the side of you – Namjoon’s plush, and you ran to pick it up. “I’m putting him back. Just in case.” You didn’t want anything looking suspicious or out of place. You’d already left a small cum stain on the sheets, Seokjin a cum tissue in the damn trashcan. You were going to hell.

“Poor guy,” Yoongi sighed, looking at the plush sadly. “He must be traumatised.”

“Shut up,” you whined, but laughed too, and that’s when you saw your phone on the nightstand where Seokjin must have left it.

Oh. The video he’d taken. You suddenly remembered. You told yourself you’d delete it immediately when you got home. You wouldn’t even watch it. As much as tonight had been enjoyable, you didn’t need the reminder. You doubted Yoongi did too.

It had been a one off, a spur of the moment kind of thing. You didn’t need to watch the video, you didn’t even need to think of the video. It was done.

You and Seokjin were done.

Tonight had been the end and you were both okay with that.

You grabbed your phone and made your way back to Yoongi, smiling at him as you took his hand. “Let’s go.”

Written 2018. Reworked/Edited 2020 Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2020

#jin smut #yoongi smut #bts smut #jin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #floralseokjin:writings #fic:lostmyhead

4K notes · View notes