#Before i texted me every day and stuff and now dead quiet. Maybe he's feeling bad and guilty but like it looks so suspicious and weird | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

venusiangguk · 4 years ago

Text

gold rush pt. 2 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 8.9k

>>warnings: romantic ass eating 😐, oral (m), fingering (m/f), butt stuff but it’s SEXY, explicit sex, crying, jungkook likes to be praised, soft koo, dom reader... but like soft, spitting in mouth, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, this is so soft, that good smut, literally like 7.5k of filth

>>notes: hot girls eat ass!! oc is a hot girl!! this involves butt stuff (just mouth and fingers, no pegging 😔), so if that isn’t ur cup of tea just read pt 1 again lol, i separated it this way in case there were people who weren’t down to go down... iykyk. but with that said, i encourage u to open ur eyes and ur mind and give this a chance 🤩

>>summary: jk finally lets you eat his ass 😁👍🏻

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

It’s day 6 of trying to get Jeongguk to let you eat his ass. It’s getting hard to function, and the sun doesn’t shine as bright as it used to. The week has been a rough one, filled with clenched butt cheeks, and fewer blow jobs than normal. You just can’t seem to stop yourself from wandering south when you’re down there, so you’ve lost the privilege. Constantly met with Jeongguk’s laughter filled eyes when he pulls you up to where you’re supposed to be, and a “You should not want to eat my ass this bad.”

He just doesn’t understand.

Currently you’re sat in the cafeteria with your friends, your eyes consistently roaming to a table across the large room. He’s laughing at something and his hands are clapping in front of him as he throws his head back. You rest your head on your arms, pouting, and you breathe a deep and miserable sigh.

“Alright y/n what the fuck?” Your friend Yuna says, flicking your cheeks.

Her speaking up causes a few of your other girlfriends at the table to direct their attention towards you. “Yeah, you’ve been like... pouty for the last few days. What’s going on?” Cho questions as well.

You debate keeping the silly internal struggle to yourself before giving in and stating plainly, “Gguk won’t let me eat his ass.” You blow absently at a piece of hair that falls into your face, eyes crossing as you look at it. Next to you, Jiwoo chokes on the zero cal drink that she’s been sipping.

Yuna stares at you blankly for a moment before recovering. “That’s... well that’s a predicament.” She hums in thought. “Does he actually not want to or is he just being shy and stubborn?”

“Second one.” You say. You’ve known your boyfriend for years and you’ve definitely learned how to tell when he’s being serious and when he’s just being stubborn. If you really thought he wasn’t about it you would have dropped it. But you know Jeongguk’s just being difficult because he thinks it’s funny to make you pine, and actually has at least some curiosity about the act. He just won’t admit it.

“Minjun was the same way,” Cho nods in solidarity. “But he likes it now.”

“How’d you get him to change his mind?” You ask perking up. A beacon of hope.

“We watched porn of it together.”

“That’s how I discovered it!” You gasp.

You pull your phone out to text your boyfriend.

you:

minjun let’s cho eat his ass 🥺

You watch Jeongguk from across the room and see the moment he receives the text. He searches the lunch room before his eyes land on yours and he let’s out an incredulous harsh laugh, before shaking his head slightly to himself. You glance at your phone and see the text bubble appear in your messages.

koo 🥴:

maybe he’ll let you eat it too 🥺

You gape at your phone and look at your boyfriend only to see him talking to his friends again. He gives you a side glance and you see his smile grow bigger as he tries to ignore you.

~~~

Jeongguk’s sitting at his lunch table picking at the food in front of him listening as Jimin rambles about the not-so-great grade he got on his latest science test. “Why the fuck do I need to know that the sun will make it too hot for life to exist on earth in a couple billion years? Not only will I be dead, but that is just anxiety inducing.”

His phone that’s vibrating on the table catches his attention, a picture message from you on the home screen. He gets a little excited at the sheer potential that a picture message has and opens it eagerly. Sure the chances of getting a titty pic when it’s mid-day and you’re both in the middle of a lunch cafeteria are small... but they are never zero.

When he opens the message and sees the picture, he laughs loudly before clapping his hand over his mouth to quiet himself.

baby 🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

He’s about to respond when Taehyung says, “Alright, you can’t keep laughing at your phone and not tell us what’s so funny.”

Jeongguk looks at the couple in front of him a trace of a smile still lingers on his lips. He shows them what you sent. “Y/n wants to eat my ass so bad.” He laughs to himself, going back to his phone.

“Are you not letting her?” Jimin asks.

Jeongguk sets his phone to the side before he gets to respond. It’s clear his friends are ready to have a conversation about it. “I don’t think so.”

Jimin and Taehyung look at each other and smirk. “Why not? It feels really good.”

He looks between them silently before asking, “You’ve done it?” He receives two nods.

“This one’s a real ass-muncher.” Taehyung says jerking a thumb at his boyfriend. Jimin swats at him.

“He says like that like its a bad thing and like he doesn’t cum from just my mouth and my fingers.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

Jeongguk tenses and turns a little red. A little tremor of heat coursing through his body at the thought of feeling so good that he could cum without even having a hand around himself. “Just from that? No dick touching? Is that even possible?”

“Oh to be straight and oblivious to the wonders of butt stuff.” Jimin pouts at him like he feels bad for him.

Taehyung on the other hand is a bit more helpful. He pops a fry in his mouth and talks with his mouth full, “It’s possible. We have like a button in our ass that’s like... magic. You know what a prostate is right?”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Obviously.”

“Okay well let her put her fingers and tongue in your ass then, if you know so much about it. Have you eaten hers?”

“Yeah I’ve had my tongue in every crevice of that girls body.” He’s nodding and smiling like he’s proud. He glances at you, and he sees you huddled next to your friend, looking closely at something on her phone, your long hair falling like a curtain over your shoulder, some pooling on the table. You look so pretty. You feel his stare, and look at him. Your smile is soft, and your lips pucker in a little kiss. Chuu.

“Right,” Jimin says bringing Jeongguk back to the topic at hand, “Well if she let you, and you’re open to it you should let her... like it will actually feel better for you than it probably did for her.” Jeongguk looks like he’s about to defend his honor and sex skills, before Jimin cuts him off, “Not saying you didn’t do it right or whatever. It’s just that guys are like programmed to like it... like biologically or- something.”

“Or something.” Jeongguk repeats.

“Why don’t you want to in the first place? Is it because you think it’s gay?” Taehyung asks laughing, knowing that that’s not why.

Jeongguk gives him a bored deadpanned stare. “No. Maybe it’s because I shit out of my ass and don’t want her mouth near it? She’s perfect, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Jimin cackles. “Well it’s not like you just let her go for it! You have to prepare.”

Jeongguk sits and listens as his friends give him nothing less than a full comprehensive lecture on the logistics of ass eating and ass getting ate. Ass 101. He’s still unsure but hearing from guys who have actually done it and enjoyed it makes him feel a bit more open and curious. It has him pulling out his phone and tentatively typing out a text to you, finally replying to the picture you sent.

me:

i’m thinking about it

He watches you, waiting for the text to get to you. He smiles when he sees you get excited at seeing his name on your home screen, something warm blossoming in his chest. He struggles to keep his face straight when he sees your head whip up, looking at him wide-eyed like you can’t believe what he just texted you. His fingers wiggle in a small wave, and the biggest smile slowly crawls across your face. He receives one last message before lunch ends.

baby 🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

say less, sir 🤤

~~~

Jeongguk lays on his back patiently, looking down at you below him while you take your time planting soft kisses all the way down his body. He was in a quite docile mood considering all the pestering you’ve put him through the past few days. And despite what you both knew you had planned for him. Something he claimed to be nervous about, but you supposed one could be nervous and excited and pliant all at once.

When you take one of his nipples into your mouth he lets out a soft “oh...” his hands flying up like he wants to wrap them in your hair, hold you there till he’s pleased, but he catches himself when his arms are halfway raised. He brings them back down by his sides, fists the sheets like he’s holding himself back, like he wants to be good for you. As you lick and suck on the paired nipple, feeling it pebble in your mouth, you watch Jeongguk’s mouth fall open silently while his eyebrows furrow and a wrinkle of pleasure forms between them. His cock is steadily going from warm and plump to hot and hard and leaking, you can feel it twitch against your lower belly.

He opens his eyes to watch you and you can see his pupils are blown and you smile up at him, a tiny bud still pulled between your teeth and Jeongguk whines. A high pitch needy, breathy noise falls from his lips before he pulls his bottom one between his teeth. His head turns to the side, baring his neck in subconscious submission, and God. He doesn’t get like this often but when he does? He is the prettiest sight.

Heat pools in your belly and your panties are already sticking to your bottom half. You hum before moving your ministrations to his torso, soft wet open mouth kisses being placed any and everywhere, prolonged ones on each of his abs. He works so hard for his body, his physique. It’s something he does for himself, but you feel lucky that you get to see him like this in all of his glory.

“Thank you.” You say as you place a kiss on the tattoo he has on his hip bone.

He hums, “For what?”

“For letting me see you like this,” You finally wrap a hand around his cock. You bite your lip when you feel it jump in your palm, “For letting me explore today. You’re so sexy, and so lovely, and so perfect. You work so hard, baby.” Kisses, so many kisses planted over his groin area, but never where he wants it most.

He huffs and you can see a flush from embarrassment darken the already present flush of arousal, due to the praise and mention of exploring. He squirms in your hold, not wanting to talk, probably wishing you would just get on with it already. Surely you can feel him throbbing in your hand, right?

Finally, you bring your lips to his frenulum and place the softest kitten lick to it and Jeongguk positively keens in your hold. You stroke his cock, squeezing on the upstroke to watch a bead of precum well at the top. It glistens, shiny and clear, at the pink head. You wrap your lips around the tip fully, lapping and swirling your tongue over it, humming at the heady, slightly bitter taste on your tongue. It’s not particularly pleasant per se but it’s sexy. The fact you get him so worked up that his cock can’t help but leak, so worked up that he can’t help the soft little whines that fall from his lips; the fact that he gets so turned on and hard and wet just from a few of your kisses and licks makes you moan with his cock in your mouth, thighs squeezing together for some type of pressure and relief.

You pop off with a harsh suck. “I can’t wait to taste you.” You groan, licking a broad stripe up his cock with the flat of your tongue.

He grumbles quietly shifting, sort of like he’s antsy and frustrated. He knows what you mean and he knows you don’t mean his cock that you just had in your mouth.

“What was that?” You ask through a smile, nipping at his hip with your teeth.

“Can you stop talking about it and just suck my dick so I can forget you’re even gonna do that?” He rolls his eyes and pouts down at you with a tiny scowl on his face.

“Oh baby,” You laugh, not patronizingly, but there is a little bit of a teasing lilt to your voice, “Are you still embarrassed?”

He doesn’t answer, just scowls harder if that was even possible.

You move away from his cock, and up his body. His eyes reflect panic and his hands finally move from the sheets to press on your shoulders, trying to keep you in place. “No, stay,” he whines.

You laugh again pushing against his hold before finally settling half on his chest. You rest a leg over his thigh, keeping your body close and pressed to his. You look into his big brown doe eyes that are slightly glassy from all the teasing. You can see some apprehension and nervousness swimming in them as you place a hand on his cheek, stroking softly. He closes his eyes and nuzzles into your palm before his hand comes up to hold your wrist, to just touch some more. His other hand runs up and down your body that’s resting half on top of him, tickling slightly like your the one that needs attention. He kisses your hand that’s on his cheek softly before looking at you again.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” You say quietly, thumb brushing over his cheek bone.

His eyes fall closed again and you can see his brow furrow once more, though this time it isn’t out of pleasure it’s because he’s thinking. Despite all the playful teasing and pestering and banter, you’ve always made sure to check that he was actually okay with you going down there. And, yeah, he was nervous but after talking about it seriously and doing some research together he always said he was fine with it. But you know things can change in the moment and you just want to double check, make sure that he still feels that way.

You hum in question gently, prompting a response.

He huffs, tightening his grip on your wrist, a nervous gesture. His eyes are still closed when he quietly says, “No I just... I- I’m not like backing out...”

“You can though.” You interrupt.

His eyes open quickly, and he shakes his head. “No, no I want to I just...” His voice starts off strong but tappers into a softer tone. “I want to I just feel a bit like... weird.”

Your brow furrows this time. “Why, baby?”

“I feel like I shouldn’t want you to.” He doesn’t meet your eyes and you can feel his cheek heat up in your palm.

Ahhhh, you think. Although you talked and teased about the topic, you realize that while Jeongguk agreed (whilst impishly feigning a faux diswant on principle) you never realized that the lighthearted “You shouldn’t want to eat my ass this bad” remarks may have stemmed from something serious, and weren’t just playful protests.

“Why do you feel that way?” You press gently.

His eyes flicker to you and then to your mouth, then back to something (nothing) off to the side. He has a small not-so-amused smile on his lips when he says, “It’s kinda taboo isn’t it?”

You can’t help but giggle at the word he used. Taboo. Out of all the things you guys have done, this is what he chooses to get shy about. Sweet boy.

“Not any more tabooo than you wanting to eat my ass, or fuck my ass.” You hum at him, stretching out the word in a teasing manner, making him look at you. You smile at him before continuing, “Or you like slapping me, or me gagging you with my panties, or-“

“Okay okay! I get it.” He laughs and places a kiss to your lips to get them to stop moving.

You beam, glad to see he’s a bit more relaxed. The boner however, is definitely gone, but that can be fixed.

“I’m not trying to convince you though.” You emphasize, “I only want to if you want to.”

He nods, softly smiling at you. “I want to.”

A salacious grin takes over your face and you sigh softly into his ear before whispering, “Perfect... I’m going to make you feel so good baby, make you feel so good with my tongue. Get you all whiny and red and sweaty. Maybe your legs will start to shake from how good it feels? Do you want that, Jeongguk?” You nip at his ear lobe as you feel a slight tremor run through his body. Your hips subtly roll against the side of his body, seeking any friction at this point. You feel him nod. “Maybe if you like my mouth enough we can use fingers when you’re ready baby.” You hear him suck in a sharp breath and slowly let it out on a shaky exhale. You grin and place a kiss to his temple before continuing. “Get them inside of you to find that spot that will really set you off. The spot that will make you cum for me. Wouldn’t that feel so good baby?”

He nods again and you can feel the hand that has been running up and down your back throughout the conversation grip at your ass roughly.

“Say it baby, I wanna hear you.”

He whines and struggles against the hand on his face that is now gripping his jaw, still putting up a little bit of a fight about wanting something he considers “taboo”. But he gives in easily enough when he realizes you won’t continue until you get more confirmation that he genuinely wants this, and is excited to have it.

“It’s gonna feel so good y/n. God, you’re gonna make me feel so good.” He’s shy when he says it, but he’s almost panting as well. At last, he’s giving in and admitting to himself that this is something that will feel good and is okay to want.

He grips your face and kisses you. It starts slow and tentative but quickly manifests into a kiss that is deep and hard, one that is full of lust and neediness. He bites at your lip needing to release some of the pent up frustration but at your whine of pain he licks over it apologetically, placing softer kisses instead for a moment before he rests his forehead against yours, both your breathing is ragged for a minute until he speaks up.

“Please y/n. I’m so hard.” He pleads in a soft whisper.

You take a second and look down between your bodies and sure enough, his cock has returned to full hardness, and your mouth waters seeing even more precum welling at the tip than before.

“I’m gonna suck it.”

“Please do.” Jeongguk laughs as you move down his body, but the laugh goes high pitched and breathy when you take him down your throat immediately.

“Fuck...” he sighs, his head falling back and eyes fluttering.

You pull off and close your eyes, relishing in the fact that you can make him feel like this. Grinning against his cock you place a kitten kiss to the shaft. “Good baby?”

He nods his head. “Yes yes, please keep going.”

You hum against the head causing Jeongguk to exhale sharply, hips twitching due to the vibrations. He’s so sensitive and you crave the reactions you pull from him. Whether they’re the soft noises and the small twitches or the loud moans and jerking muscles, they are all equally loved and desired.

Quickly you pull off and reach up placing your hand under his mouth, before he can protest at you pausing again. Maybe you’re being a little mean, but he sounds so pretty when he’s desperate and you just can’t help yourself.

“Spit.” You instruct.

You see him work his jaw, sharp edges protruding here and there while he gathers some in his mouth before spitting it into your hand. You peck a nipple on the way back down to his cock wrapping the spit filled hand around him. You see him watching you and you hold eye contact as you gather some of your own and let it drool from your mouth landing on the tip of his cock. You swear you see his eyes go impossibly darker, his jaw clenching, hands turning to fists in the sheets beneath you both.

When you stroke, mixing everything, his eyes close and he lets out a breath through his nose as he rests back and gets a little more comfortable. It’s not too messy, just the perfect amount of wetness for the glide to be slick and pleasing for him. You tighten your grip and twist under the head watching as the muscles in his stomach and thighs tense, a soft grunt draws your gaze to his face.

“Yeah... like that...” he whispers. He’s just barely rocking his hips into your hands, trying to be subtle while also trying to chase the feeling.

You speed up your hand, keeping up the movements he likes while adding your tongue to flick at the underside of his head. You glance at him and find him watching you again, a fucked out look on his face, mouth slightly parted and a bead of sweat running down his temple. Slowly you sink down watching him till you can’t anymore, burying the tip of your nose in the soft patch of neatly kept hair at the base of his cock. When you feel him hit the back of your throat you contract it and shake your head from side to side and finally, finally you pull out one of his loud and unrestrained moans. It goes straight to your pussy, making it feel like it’s pulsing in your panties.

You come up for a breath before you stay down as long as you can repeating the same actions that pulled the lovely moans from his throat and you continue to hear them as you feel him start to sink his hips, almost like he’s overwhelmed and trying to pull away from how good it feels, like he can’t handle how how good it feels.

In your peripheral vision you can see his hands twitching like he’s fighting with himself before he gives in and sinks them into your hair, pulling slightly before pushing your head down and bringing his hips back up. He’s not fucking your face, but he let’s his cock sink as far back as it can and let’s you work your throat around him, lets himself get overwhelmed instead of pulling away from the feeling like he was before.

Jeongguk was a head pusher in every sense of the term. Some people hated when their partners did that, but you loved it. You loved it because Jeongguk was different from most head pushers. He had variety. Sometimes he liked pushing your head down and holding you there to choke you and watch tears form in your eyes, to watch your makeup run while you struggled to breathe. Sometimes he did it in a face-fucking way, his hips jackhammering while he moved your head up and down just the way he wanted it. This time though, he held your head down in a begging way. In a way that said “Oh god please, please don’t stop, it feels so fucking good, please stay there forever”.

Jeongguk is whimpering above you and you hum and moan loudly sending strong vibrations up your throat and down his cock and he’s thrashing, throwing his head back, grip in your hair tightening, a pleasant pain on your scalp.

“Oh my fucking god,” He groans, neck extended and his eyes squeezed shut.

His whole body is burning when you bring a hand down to massage his balls while still moving your throat against his tip and then all of a sudden he tenses and stills before he’s pulling you off, frantically chanting “Stop it, stop it.”

At lightening speed you grip the base of his cock, squeezing, trying to keep his orgasm at bay. Jeongguk’s whole body jerks with his cock, but no cum leaks out, only precum and spit making a mess on his angry, swollen cock. He relaxes back for a moment, cock still jumping, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath and you do the same and after you slowly release the hold you have on his cock you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Suddenly your world is blurry and you’re quickly being pulled to his chest and smothered with his hands on your cheeks, and his lips everywhere they can reach.

“God. You’re so good, so so good y/n. So perfect, make me feel so good baby. How do you do it?” He praises you between kisses and you giggle, gently pawing at his chest to get him to stop or at least slow down.

He does and you take a second to look at him. And he’s glowing. His eyes are shining, like he was close to tears and his cheeks are flushed. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead in places while the longer pieces are fanned out on the pillow underneath him. And his smile. He’s beaming and you are so in love.

You bring a hand up and brush some sweaty strands back off his face. His eyes close and he pushes into the touch like a kitten wanting pets. He sighs contentedly.

“You’re so beautiful, Jeongguk. So pretty.” You whisper, placing a kiss to his forehead.

You bring your hand down from his hair and cradle his cheek, running your thumb over his plump, red bottom lip. You can see faint teeth marks underneath it from where he was biting it. His eyelashes flutter on his cheek as his eyes close and he sighs quietly before he nibbles on the fingertip with his front teeth and then takes the whole thing into his mouth, sucking on it. You gasp quietly, and apply light pressure pushing down on the wetness of his tongue prying his mouth open and he just lets you.

Your lips find his, and you dip your tongue into his open mouth before your hand moves to his jaw to keep it agape and you fuck your tongue into it.

“This is how my tongue is gonna fuck you...” you whisper.

He whines high and needy, and his hands move to cup your cheeks. You moan before settling over him more comfortably and pushing your soaked panties to the side before wiggling till his cock is settled between your lips.

The night was supposed to be about him, but you need something before you lose it. You move your hips in small little thrusts, the length of his cock rubbing deliciously over you clit. You both gasp into each others mouths. The hands on your ass encourage you, pressing into your cheeks and the small of your back whenever you thrust forward, and the thumbs on your hips push when you grind back.

“Holy fuck you’re so wet.” He’s says it like he’s in awe, like he can’t believe it. Like he hasn’t made you this way so many times before.

You rest your forehead on his while continuing to grind on his cock. “Love you like this...” You grip his jaw again and pry it open, even though you know he would open willingly if you just asked. You look in his eyes searching, before you feel him nod in your hold. You lean forward over his mouth and let some spit fall into it, he moans while he eagerly drinks it down.

His grip on your hips tightens and you feel his cock jerk against your clit, but he’s good. He doesn’t cum.

“I love it too... just not all the time... it’s- a lot. Overwhelming.” He whispers, and you coo.

“I know baby, you’re doing so well. Color?” You ask.

“Green.” He answers without hesitation.

You smile and kiss him. “Wanna keep going?”

He flushes when he nods his head. “Please.”

Once again you find yourself between Jeongguk’s legs. You play with his cock a little before smoothing your hands under his thighs, trying to gently push them up and back but he whines and resists.

“You have to let me see baby.” You say, a smile in your voice.

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before slowly letting his legs fall apart.

You hum, before saying, “Hand me a pillow please.”

He’s confused but does as you ask, understanding when you tap the side of his cheek with instructions to lift his hips, pillow settling underneath his ass and lower back, propping them up a little.

You settle back down on your tummy, and open his legs again. Jeongguk says nothing but you can feel his body shaking a little with a constant tremor. He takes a deep breath settling back into the pillow he placed behind his head so he can watch what you do next.

“Ready?” You ask, hands gripping at the meaty inside parts of his thighs. You get a stiff nod, but still no noises. You pout but get started by running your tongue flat over his balls, hoping to ease him into it.

You feel his thighs tense, as you lap at the hairless balls, sucking them into your mouth every once in a while. Your eyes constantly flicker to Jeongguk’s face to make sure there’s nothing wrong, but all you see is pleasure on his face while he breathes out in soft little puffs through his nose. His eyes are hooded and his lip is drawn between his teeth.

You hold his heady gaze and you place your first little lick on his perineum. At the contact, his head falls back, mouth hanging open. You wiggle closer to place a kiss to the area, transitioning to quick little flicks of your tongue and Jeongguk moans, and you watch as he spreads a bit more, lifting his feet so his knees are pulled closer to his chest, giving you easier access. You moan at his eagerness, and have to stop for a minute, putting a hand between your legs to just press on your center for some kind of relief.

His eyes are still closed, like he doesn’t want to see you between his legs licking at his most private area, but his quiet whining and restless shifting is enough to let you know that he’s okay and enjoying it.

You bring your hands up and place one on each of his cheeks, squeezing a little, admiring the soft give of his muscles. He’s so plush. You apply pressure so his legs fall farther back and then spread him apart. You bite your lip and your mouth waters at the thought of how good your going to make him feel.

Tentatively you poke your tongue out and trace it around the little ring of muscle. He gasps and tries to clench and close his legs but you hold them in place.

“It’s okay baby.”

“‘S weird...” He mumbles.

“I know. Just try to relax for me, okay?”

You hear him take a few deep breaths before you feel his body shake with a nod. His legs fall open again and you make quick work of his hole, placing your tongue flat over it, dragging all the way up to where his balls meet his perineum.

“Ohhh,” He breathes out.

You take that as a good sign before getting a bit rougher with your actions, less of the tentative licks and more of some tight sucking and quick flicking. He’s doing so well and you can hear him moaning above you. His cock is so hard and swollen on his belly, neglected and leaking.

“Pull your legs back baby.”

He opens his eyes and they are unfocused. It takes him a second to process what you asked him to do, but once he does he moves quickly. He has a hazy look in his eyes, his mouth in parted slightly, and his tongue peaks out to wet his lips as he gets comfortable in the new position.

“Watch me?” You plead, while licking over his hole again, eyes not leaving him waiting for a response.

His eyes close for just a moment and a wrinkle of pleasure forms between his brows and his cock jumps, a little spurt of precum oozing out. He inhales and opens his eyes on the exhale, breathing out a small “Okay.”

Once you start to figure out what he likes and what makes him happy, all you hear is the steadily getting louder pleased noises falling from his lips. You point your tongue and gently push past the tight ring of muscles and Jeongguk sobs. He brings a hand to his face and rubs over it, before throwing his arm over his face, hiding because he’s so overwhelmed. To your surprise he starts to gently rock against your tongue.

“Oh my god you’re so hot Jeongguk,” You moan.

“Don’t stop,” He begs. He sounds close to tears.

“Touch yourself, baby.”

You wait until you see his hand wrap around his cock giving himself a few slow strokes, wet eyes on you, waiting for you to keep going.

As soon as your mouth meets him again, his hand he has on his cock starts moving faster, almost frantically over his length and his hips are stuttering like he doesn’t know if he wants to fuck his hand or if he wants to fuck himself back onto your tongue. You decide for him and hold his hips close to your face, sucking repeatedly on the ring of fluttering muscle.

Jeongguk gasps, “I’m close, I wanna cum y/n- Please, I-“ His head falls back and his hand doesn’t slow.

You give your hum of approval against his hole, and watch him fall apart.

His head is thrown back and he’s so sweaty from working so hard for his release. His chest rises and falls in quick staccato breaths, and his free hand goes up to a nipple, lightly rubbing his thumb over it and he keens, before he goes silent, whole body stuttering and he chokes out nothing more than a quick, quiet “Cumming” before his cock pulses and shoots out 1, 2, 3 stripes of white, the rest dribbling down his length and over his fingers. His body almost convulses from the pleasure coursing through his veins. He keeps stroking, and he lets you keep licking until he squirms, uncomfortable from the overstimulation.

You wipe your mouth and immediately make your way up to his face, straddling his hips. You don’t care about the cum, but you’re carful to avoid his sensitive cock, which is a little deflated but still laying somewhat hard on his tummy. You’re both out of breath when you slam your lips against his so it’s more gasping into each other’s mouths while your lips occasionally meet before you need a breath again. But you’re desperate to show him how good he did.

You pull back and grip his face in your hands. His hands hold your wrists, like he’s keeping them in place on his cheeks. He’s still catching his breath with his eyes closed, but you want him to see how proud you are.

“Jeongguk, look at me.”

He does and his eyes are glassy and wet and his eyelashes are clumped together with unshed tears. He offers you a sheepish smile.

“You did so good baby. So fucking good. I love you.” You pepper kisses over his face.

He laughs breathlessly, “Didn’t get to your fingers...”

You laugh with him quietly. “That’s okay baby, we can do that next time. You were perfect.” You take a deep breath and collapse on top of him, resting your face in the crook of his neck, smiling while leaving small lovebites all over.

After a minute or so though, you feel him start to get restless underneath you.

“What is it baby?” You ask not really moving much.

He mumbles something into the top of your head.

“Huh?” You say sitting up to look at him.

He looks kinda petulant for someone who just came so hard it hit their neck.

He mumbles again.

“Koo. Words.”

He blushes and scowls looking away from you but the hands settled on your hips rub small circles into your hip bones, showing he’s not actually mad and most likely just being a brat.

“I want them now.” It’s quiet and pouty, but at least you understand him this time.

Your mouth opens in understanding but your eyebrows raise in surprise. You look over your shoulder and down to see his cock still laying plump and hard on his stomach in a little puddle of cum.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I know we said that was the plan but we can always do it ano-“

He grabs the back of your neck pulls you down to kiss you deep and slow, his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth. When he speaks again it’s soft against your lips.

“Please y/n... it felt so good,” A tiny peck is given as your noses touch.

You exhale a shaky breath, “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want.”

He kisses you deeply again, but positions you over his cock so he can rut up into your pussy.

“Can’t you feel how bad I want it?” He whispers against your lips. He nips at the bottom one while smiling before pulling away and settling against the pillows again, looking at you expectantly once he gets comfortable.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Big words coming from someone who claimed they didn’t even want this like an hour ago.” You smile down at him, eyes sparkling.

He snickers. He breathes a deep sigh before settling back even more. “Yeah. That was before I came so hard that I almost blacked out.” His hands are behind his head and his eyes are closed like he’s reminiscing about a distant memory, a smug smile on his lips.

“You switch from being my baby to a pain so fast.” You pout as you settle once again between Jeongguk’s legs.

He parts them with a hum. “Still your baby... just- make me feel good please, I’m like so hard- throbbing.”

You suck on your fingers a little bit to get them wet before circling one around the ring of muscles. You don’t miss the tiny gasp, or the way his legs subconsciously part even wider.

“I don’t think it’s gonna feel the best at first....” You warn, applying the slightest pressure to his hole, before going back to circling it. “Hand me the lube on the nightstand please.”

Jeongguk obliges before he says, “I know just... go slow.” He sounds just a little bit nervous.

You give a quick nod while you open up Jeongguk’s half empty bottle of lube and drizzle some onto your fingers, lathering it over them to warm it some before getting them into position.

“Do you think about me when you use this?” you ask still running your slick fingers over him.

He nods and licks his lips subconsciously. “Mhmm sometimes.”

You fake gasp and bite at his knee by your side. You’re sitting crisscross applesauce in between his legs. “Only sometimes?”

“I watch porn too,” He giggles breathlessly. “Sometimes I look for girls that look like you though, if that helps.”

“It does not.” You say indignantly, only half joking.

He brings his foot up and lightly kicks at your leg. “You watch porn too that’s literally why we are in this mess right now. We watched it together.”

You full on laugh at that. He has a point. “Okay enough, hush and relax baby.”

You weren’t sure if it was better to warn Jeongguk, or just slowly ease him into it without saying anything. If you warned him you knew he would tense up and it would just make it harder on his body, but you also didn’t want to take him by surprise either.

You must have just been circling his rim for a minute because Jeongguk huffs before asking, “Are you gonna like... put it in or...?”

You take that as a go, and peck the inside of his thigh a preemptive apology because you knew it was going to hurt a little. Jeongguk had prepped you for the times you tried anal with him and you vividly remember the sting before it became bearable. Your hands and fingers were much smaller than his, and certainly much smaller than his cock, so you are hoping the pain isn’t too horrible and ends quickly.

Oh so slowly you start to sink your middle finger inside of him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and when you flick your eyes up to look at him you can see his eyes squeezed shut tightly and his jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t really hurt yet, it’s just uncomfortable... Keep going.”

You nod softly before you resume what you were doing, and once you get down to your last knuckle, you wiggle your finger around inside for a second like you had seen in the porn that you and him watched together, hoping to stretch him out some.

Above you Jeongguk is taking shallow breaths the sort of sound like they are getting a little higher pitched at the end, and he shifts and wiggles a bit because of the foreign feeling. You glance at his cock and see that’s its gone just a little soft.

“Touching yourself might help you relax a little bit and it might make it feel a little bit better.” You suggest lightly.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything but he does as he’s told, slowly stroking his cock back to it’s full length.

“That’s it, good boy. I can feel you’re less tense already.” You praise, and you start to move your finger in and out. It’s tight, but there’s a lot less resistance. You move them just a bit faster and focus on Jeongguk’s reactions.

His hand has started to move a bit faster over his cock, and his mouth is parted and his eyes are closed, like he’s lost in the feeling. There’s a flush on his face that has travelled all the way down his chest. Soft moans fall from his lips occasionally, although you can’t tell if that’s from you or him touching himself.

“Does it feel good?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“It feels…” He pauses like he’s unsure. “It feels… nice. I think.”

You snort. “You think?”

He laughs a little breathless, hand still stroking over his cock. “I mean it’s weird. But it’s not unpleasant. I could probably cum if I kept touching my dick.”

“Don’t cum, I haven’t found your button yet.” Your eyebrows furrow, determination set on your face.

“I do not have a button.” He says absently.

“You do. I’m gonna do the second one kay?”

“I don’t and okay.”

You ignore him and grab the lube again, adding a bit more. Your fingers find their place and as they start to sink in, Jeongguk sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, and goes rigid. You wince.

“Hurts…” He says quietly.

“I’m sorry baby.” You rub your free hand over his thigh, trying to comfort him. You give him a moment, he takes a few breaths before saying to keep going.

It takes a little bit but eventually you get both fingers in. Jeongguk isn’t feeling good yet, teeth grinding, body tense, and hands fisted in the sheets trying to ground himself, but you are determined to make it good for him. You get on your stomach and add your tongue to your fingers as you start to pull them out just to push them back in. The lube doesn’t taste very good, but the way that Jeongguk’s breath hitches when he feels your mouth on him again makes up for it.

“I- I love that.” He says, voice airy and soft as he turns his head to the side and into his shoulder like he’s trying to hide.

“Mmm, starting to feel good now baby?” You ask, flicking your tongue while your fingers start to sink in easily.

“Yeah, ‘s good…” He mumbles.

Once you’re sure that there’s no pain at all for Jeongguk, you start to crook your fingers inside of him on every thrust in trying to find that secret spot of his. Jeongguk sounds lovely while you’re searching, but the way he sounds when you finally hit it is like nothing you’ve heard from him before. It’s like he gets punched in the gut and looses his breath, a moan getting caught in his throat for a moment before he exhales a high pitched whine. You didn’t get to see it, too focused, but you know his eyes rolled back.

“There,” he breathes.

You moan as you rest your head against his thigh, focusing on your attention on your fingers and hitting that spot every time you move them inside of him. Each time you hit it sweet moans are punched out, or quiet affirmations are whispered. “Yes, please, more…”.

He has that look of pleasure on his face, the scrunched eyebrows, the parted mouth. He’s fidgety, and fussy like he just wants more but doesn’t know how to get it. He huffs, annoyed, before he starts to push back on your fingers.

“God… you’re so desperate for it,” You whisper completely captivated by how much pleasure Jeongguk looks like he’s in.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Until you start to put a constant pressure on his prostate, rubbing.

“Oh fuck- I-“ He looks down to where your fingers are like he can’t believe the way they are making him feel before he throws his head back and let’s out a deep groan.

He lets you make him feel good, let’s the pleasure build up in his body until you start to feel him tense. His whines start to come out more frequently, almost constant moans filling the air. So noisy. His legs open more and you see how his toes curl in the sheets.

“Oh my god I think I’m gonna cum,” It’s said breathlessly, almost confused. Like he didn’t think that he would actually be able to cum just from your fingers inside of him, hands still at his sides fisted in the sheets.

“Yeah baby?” You ask, voice airy.

He nods, tongue poking out of his mouth like he’s concentrating.

Your arm hurts, but you keep thrusting and rubbing over that spot inside of him. His muscles are strained, and next to your body, you can see his legs start to tremble. His breathing is fast and short. His cock is fat and swollen laying in a puddle of precum, it looks like it hurts with how red it is. You take you other hand and start to rub on his perineum, stimulating him on the outside as well as the inside and that’s when he loses it.

He let’s out a choked cry before his body jerks up, curling in on itself. “Oh fuck I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming-“

You don’t let up, an awestruck smiling forming on your face as you watch Jeongguk fall apart on your fingers. He’s so tight around them, it’s like his body is begging you not to stop, keeping you in place. He feels like every hair on his body is standing on end and like his skin is overly receptive and sensitive to every little thing. Wave after wave of ecstasy is flowing over him. His whole body trembles, yet his cock doesn’t jerk like with his other orgasm. This time it just pulses flat on his stomach, cum leaking out of the tip adding to the mess that was already there. With every pulse of his cock, Jeongguk’s body curls more, back raise off the bed, abs flexed due to the strain on his core. The look on his face is one of indescribable pleasure. It’s obscene. After the final pulse of his cock, he falls back, absolutely spent.

Your fingers slowly come to a stop, and you carefully remove them from him and wipe them on the bed before you crawl over his thigh and flop down by his side. You peck his cheek, staying quiet this time, not wanting to overwhelm him. He’s still has tremors running through his body when he turns his head to look at you. His chest is heaving and his eyes are droopy, but there’s a sleepy smile on his lips. He curls onto his side so you guys are facing each other.

The silence is thick and heavy but not in a suffocating way. More so in a comforting way. The atmosphere feels like you both are wrapped in a weighted blanket, just relishing in the warm afterglow of what you did together.

You wiggle closer, hook a thigh over his hip. “How was it? Did you like it?” You don’t know why but you sound shy, kinda nervous.

He simply nods, a soft smile on his face as he brushes some hair behind your ear, hand coming to rest on your cheek for just a few seconds before it’s sliding down your arm, down your hip, playing with lacy top of your panties. He bumps noses with you, breathing in your exhales before he closes his eyes and fits his lips between yours. His hand slips into your panties.

You open easily for him, angling yourself mostly on your back so it’s easier for him to reach where you want him most. He sighs into your mouth when he feels how wet you are. He dips between your lips and you gasp, hand going down to grip at his wrist willing him not to tease, to not move his hand away.

“Don’t worry, I just wanna make you feel good baby.” He coos in your ear as his middle finger starts to rub slowly over your clit.

You let out soft whimpers at the slow pace that makes the fire in your belly curl and steadily grow.

“Jeongguk, I’m already close…” You warn.

“Mmm, that’s it baby. Want you to cum for me, like I came for you.” His finger speeds up some. “Fuck, you made me cum so hard y/n. Made me crazy. You always do.” He moans gently into your ear.

You nod, and your legs begin to tremble. “Don’t stop,” You beg, meaning both his fingers and his words.

“You wanna know what it felt like? You wanna know what you did to me?” He presses a touch harder, and nips are your cheek.

You nod again, subtly rocking your hips into his touch.

“You made me cum untouched y/n. Do you know how good you had to fuck me in order for that to happen? God, it was so intense, and I was just leaking so much the whole time. You did that to me baby, you made me feel that good. Fuck, I wanna make you feel that good too, please cum for me y/n. I know you’re close, I know your body just as well as you know mine.” He sounds desperate, just yearning to get you there. “I can tell by the way your legs are shaking, and the way you can’t stop whining my name. Sound so pretty baby, just for me. Your hand on my wrist is gripping so hard, like you can’t take what my fingers are doing to you. But you’re gonna take it and give me what I want right? Just like I gave you what you wanted, hmm?”

“Fuck, Jeongguk I’m cumming,” You cry, his words and his fingers making you shake and finally get the release that you’ve been putting off the whole night. Your thighs close over his hand but Jeongguk doesn’t let up, not until you’re cumming for the second time in a span of minutes.

“Please- I can’t-“ You squirm, and wiggle, until his fingers slow and finally slip form your panties. You sigh in bliss, body twitching as the last bits of your climax leave your body.

You turn back to your side and snuggle all the way against Jeongguk’s body, legs intertwining. Jeongguk runs his nails over your back, making little goosebumps sprout over your body. There’s a peaceful quiet coming over you, both tired from the events of the night. Jeongguk breaks it.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” It’s a timid statement, but you can hear how much he means it.

You kiss softly over his heartbeat. “I always will.”

“Just please don’t ever ask to peg me.”

You simply hum. “Goodnight baby.”

------------------------

i hope you liked it!! i’m thinking of writing a smutty drabble of when oc and jk watch the porn together 🤨 let me know if you would want to read that or anymore of this universe! comments, notes, and feedback are YEARNED for. my ask is also open if you want to request, share thoughts, or just talk

part 3 here!

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qillmhi · 3 years ago

Text

So I'm like... Never a fan of the 'Imma kill my bros for u' kind of scenario especially since I very much love all the turtle bros, so here's my version of an obsessive lover 2012 Mikey!

🖤🧡🐢

Dark!2012!Mikey x Reader

-Michelangelo is the youngest out of the four turtle brothers, so he was easily the most childish and energetic one, much to his older brothers' annoyance.

-He was loud yet small. Just a few inches shorter than you. A social butterfly, but can be oblivious to most things.

-Mikey may not be the smartest turtle, but he does have own way of getting what he wants.

-And he has his eyes dead set on you.

-When he first realised his crush on you, he openly welcomed it with zero resistance. It felt great being in love so why should he deny it?

-He loves expressing himself so there was little to no filter when he's showing you his love.

-"(y/n)~!!!!" Mikey threw his arms around you "I missed you so much!!!!!" He cried in excitement rubbing his cheek on yours.

-You laughed at the youngest turtle and placed your hand on his head "Mikey! I just went for a glass of water!"

-"Yeah! But you took sooooo long so I still missed you!"

-He would be all over you. Wherever you go, Mikey is expected to be following close behind.

-Sometimes without your knowledge.

-Whenever his brothers weren't looking, he would slip by to your apartment to watch you sleep.

-But he did it to make sure you're safe! Don't worry!

-He would always be the first one to tackle you as soon as your foot entered the lair. Then proceed to trap you in a cuddling session with him for hours before anyone could get to you.

-"Oof--!"

-"Dibs on (y/n)!!!!"

-"Ow--Mikey!!" You groaned in protest.

-"No time to talk dudette! Look--" He held up a glowing flower watch "--it's hug time!"

-You squinted your eyes at the familiar looking gadget "Did you force Donnie to make you that hug-watch thing from the Trolls movie?"

-"Maybe~!" Mikey avoided your eyes "So hug time...?"

-Physical contact is his love langauge! Mikey's insides would be all mushy and gushy if you respond to them even the slightest bit. And if you return the favor? This little boy will melt into your arms!

-When you do ask him to let you go, he would just simply say "Nope!" popping the 'p' then proceed to tuck himself below your chin.

-"Awwh come on!!"

-Everytime he feels your soft hands scratching his shell, he immediately starts churring in delight. You thought it was cute, so you'd pat him in the head which made him even more happy!

-He can't help it! Mikey is just obsessed with how soft and plush you feel against his skin! He would definitely glue himself on you if you'd allow him to.

-"You are so squishy~!" Mikey mumbled against your shoulder while hugs you from behind for the nth time today.

-You flicked his forehead earning yourself a small 'ow' "And you are a big baby."

-You didn't mind his clinginess thankfully. It was just Mikey being cute as always. For real how can you resist this baby?

-He's loves it when you give your full attention to him. But if you're talking to someone else, he would just simply have an arm over your shoulders. Silently brooding towards the intruder, giving them a silent warning.

-If the boy isn't hugging you or initiating some kind of physical contact with you, he would be content holding the hem of your shirt or any kind of clothing you own (he may or may not have kept a few in his room that he may or may not have been using as a pillowcase to cuddle). Something that became a norm whenever he's at your apartment and you preparing both of your meals.

-Damn he loves your food! It was then only food he worships other than pizza! He especially loves watching you cook. Like an angel preparing to give him heaven.

-Speaking of Heaven.

-This orange fluff have TONS of pictures of you saved in his phone. If you ever made the mistake of sleeping in the lair, this guy is just snapping pictures of you in every possible angle. Sideways? Upside down? Close up? Bird's eye view? They all made you look perfect!

-His wallpaper is a selfie of you and him enjoying your home made chocolate icecream pizza that you made just for him. Aren't you just the sweetest? He considers that as your first date even though you two aren't official.... yet.

-I mean you made that treat just for him so it must mean that you return his feelings right?

-As time went by, his little crush for you grew into something more.

-You were starting to see his brothers and your other friends a little less and him and little more.

-It was just Mikey. Only Mikey.

-Just the way he likes it

-Everyday you'd wake up and find him cuddled up to you. When you ask him what he's doing he would just look up at you with his innocent baby blue eyes and say "But cupcake! I'm cold and you're suuuuper comfy~!" Cue those puppy dog eyes and you're 100% powerless.

-He would bring you all sorts of goodies like food, favourite drinks, movies, videogames--anything he could carry just for you!

You couldn't say that you didn't like the attention. Mikey is just so sweet especially whenever he brings little trinkets saying "They reminded me of you!" With that adorable freckled smile of his! It just makes you blush every time.

His innocent sweet smile just melts through your heart!

His brothers thought it was weird when he's always out and about after training and patrolling. But hey! The lair is a lot more quiet and Donnie doesn't have to worry about his stuff being broken anymore. Besides they knew you, you were a great friend so they trust you.

After a while you started to miss your friends. Having Mikey around was fun but you wanted to see what the other guys are up to these days.

One day you decided to visit everyone in the lair with pizza and had a great time chatting and playing with the turtle brothers. Oddly enough Mikey wasn't there.

But he was. Mikey was there. Hidden in the dark corners of the lair. Not even his brothers noticed him. His smile was gone. His eyes were dark as he kept himself one with the shadows, silent as a ghost.

He didn't like the way you were smiling with other people. Of course he was fine with letting you talk to his brothers sometimes, but still there were some boundaries to be made.

"Mine..." Michelangelo silently growls.

Although he doesn't favor this image of you with other people, he does take pride in the way your eyes would flicker to his bedroom door every now and then. Good. Very good.

Finally it was time for you to go. He immediately left. Time to take action.

When you got home you saw your favorite orange turtle curled up on the floor sobbing. Your heartached at the sight of the big crocodile tears falling from his face.

-You dropped down on your knees and asked him what was wrong.

-"I was waiting for you here all day b-but you didn't come home... you left me.." He cried miserably "I-I understand... if you don't want to h-hang out with me anymore... no one really wants to. I p-promise won't bother you anymore.." Mikey sniffed then left before you can get a word out.

-That was three days ago and you haven't seen Mikey since. He stopped visiting, stopped replying to your calls or texts. He was just gone.

-You realized just how much you loved having the small orange ninja around. Your home became cold and lonely. You started to miss him terribly.

-You went back to the lair, ignoring the others as you went straight for Mikey's room and knocked on his door.

-Mikey opened the door for just a crack. His eyes were red from crying. He looked absolutely miserable, but you pushed the door open and pulled him into a hug.

-You apologized to Mikey. You told him that it wasn't your intention to make him sad or feel neglected. That you loved having him around you.

-Mikey hugged you back of course. He closed his bedroom door to give you both privacy while you continued to hold him tight.

-He nuzzled his snout on your chest and told you he missed you too.

-Your soul ached when his shoulders started to shake. You placed your cheek on his head with your hand on his shell to calm your crying turtle.

-Except he wasn't.

-Mikey's smile was as wide as it could ever be. His eyes held a victorious sinister glow as he felt his entire body shake from excitement when he as in your addicting scent.

-Mikey was a good liar.

-He didn't mean to make you this sad. But he had to in order to make you come to him.

-And believe me when I say those three days of not seeing you was torture to him. Sure he had a folder full of your pictures saved on his phone (and his cuddle pillow) but it just can't compare to the real thing.

-But it was worth it though.

-He already had you right where he wanted you. He just needs to give you a little more push for you to confess your love for him and you two will be happy together forever!

-He knew he couldn't keep you to himself. You would surely retaliate if he forces you.

-But that doesn't mean he can't push you into making you claim him as yours instead.

-Oh how it feels so good to be in your love and care again!

-Mikey started churring as he pulled you even closer.

-Yeah Mikey definitely wasn't the smartest.

-But he's definitely the most cunning.

-And he would do anything to have you.

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt imagine #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2k12 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #tmnt

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hotch-stufff · 3 years ago

Note

Hey ❤️ Can you write something with number 10. Undercover/fake relationship, with Gibbs? Maybe add a bit of angst?

Undercover

gif by lucifersagents

Pairing: Gibbs x reader

Warnings!: Angst, undercover work, mentions of death and usual NCIS things, more angst, but fluffy ending

Promt: #10 undercover/fake relationship

--------

"We got a body." Gibbs announced to the team. You groaned. You had just wrapped up a case and almost instantly were diving into the next one.

"Don't murderers ever take a vacation?" You whined to Dinozzo.

"No, but we are. 3 marines found dead with their wives, in Miami, Florida. All were on vacation for their honeymoon." McGee informs the group. Everyone spent a few minute studying the victims.

"You know y/n you kind of look like the wives. And, and Gibbs you kinds resemble the husbands. In ya' know the stone cold marine type way." That earned a hard slap to the back of the head. "I'm just sayin'. We might have an opportunity here."

"You mean undercover?" You asked curiously, glancing at Gibbs. His face remained unwavering.

"Yeah, I mean, you two pretend to be married and we lure the guy to you two instead of some other couple." Dinozzo continued. You had to admit he had a point.

"I agree with Dinozzo, boss. This might just work well enough to distract him from killing another couple." Gibbs nodded slowly, still staring at the file.

"Ok, pack a bag everyone. Me and y/n will be going undercover, the rest of you will be running point from inside with the Miami PD." Gibbs grunts out before heading to the elevator. McGee shot you a look and you just shrugged.

* * *

10 hours later and you were settling into a lush honeymoon sweet in some way overpriced fancy hotel.

"So, Gibbs, how do you want to go about doing this? We need a back story, and I cant keep calling you Gibbs, because well that just doesn't make sense." You were babbling. But you always did when you were nervous. And you were only nervous because you may or may not have developed some feelings for the man standing before you.

"I guess your right." He sat on the edge of the bed. "We met at a small coffee shop, I was on my way to work, you were..." he was struggling to come up with something.

"Most of the wives were also marines, they just served for a much smaller amount of time than their husbands, they all worked on the same bases as their husbands. So I was also on my way to work, coincidently at the same place." He nodded going along with it.

"That works." He paused. "We need names."

"You could probably stick with Jethro Gibbs, and I would be Y/n Gibbs." He raised an eyebrow at you. "What? It would probably be easier just in case we slip up with a name." He couldn't argue there.

"Alright we should probably get some rest. Long day tomorrow." You agreed quickly with him, and you both made your way towards the bed. The bed. The only bed.

"I can sleep on the couch." He offered.

"Really Gibbs? No, we can share. Its a huge bed." And so you shared. He nodded, and swallowed audibly. You both got under the covers on your respective sides. And you heard Gibbs breathing even out signaling that he was asleep. You turned over and saw how serene his faced looked. You fell asleep soon after.

* * *

You awoke the next morning with a foriegn weight on your chest. Opening your eyes slowly you looked down only to find a head of salt and pepper hair. Gibbs. Gibbs was wrapped around ypu like-like a koala. His arms wrapped tightly around your middle, his legs tangled with yours while his head rested on your chest, your hands in his hair. You needed to get out of this bed. You ever so gently removed yourself from his arms, and he whined. He actually whined before falling back asleep.

You made a point not to bring this morning up once he woke up.

* * *

The case had seemed to be going relatively well. That is until you were almost caught following a suspect. The guy was walking back around a corner in an alley, probably because he had dropped his keys. If you didn't do something fast, then you would both be caught and ultimately busted.

All of a sudden Gibbs grabbed you and pressed you into a wall. He reached his hand down around your thigh hoisting it up along his side. And then his lips were on yours. He kissed you like a starved man, your mouths slanted together. He pressed into you more, and with one of his hands on your face and the other on your thigh, you let out a soft moan. Grabbing him by the collar you pulled him in harder and kissed him with even more passion than you thought possible.

The spell was unfortunately broken when the guy grabbed Gibbs by the shoulder yanking him back. He had a gun pointed directly at him.

Although unfortunately for him the rest of the team along with many officers were waiting for him to make his move and he was arrested within seconds.

And you and Gibbs couldn't look each other in the eyes.

* * *

The case cleared up pretty quickly after that, and you and Gibbs headed back to your room to collect your stuff. Once in the room the silence was deafening.

"Listen y/n, I'm sorry about the kiss. I just needed him to be distracted long enough to notice us." He daid a grim look on his face.

"I uh, it's fine." Yous stumbled out.

"You okay y/n?" He asked hesitantly stepping closer to you.

"I just, that seemed a lot more than just an undercover kiss." You paused waiting for a reaction. "It just seemed too real." You added quietly. His face quickly changed to one of almost anger.

"Well, it wasn't real." He snapped.

"Jeez Gibbs, you don't need to get defensive. I was just saying-" he cut you off.

"Listen y/n, that kiss was nothing. The only reason I would ever kiss you is if it pertained to a case!" You felt your eyes tear up as the realization crossed his face at what he just said.

"Wow, um. O-okay. I'm all packed, so I'm just gonna go." The tears were steadily falling down your face now.

"Wait y/n, that's not what I meant." He said, his voice softer now.

"No really sir, its fine. We should probably just remain professional from now on so that no feelings get mixed in with work." You walked to the door. "Goodbye Agent Gibbs." And you slammed the door behind you. Leaving Gibbs in that room by himself wondering what the hell he had just done.

* * *

You had closed yourself off completely from Gibbs in the upcoming weeks. He hated it of course, but he thought it best. He was sure he was falling in love with you, but he couldn't get close. He would only end up hurting you.

You had confided in Ducky one day after work. He had asked you why you had been avoiding Gibbs so much and you told him. He wanted to smack Gibbs. He would settle for giving him a piece of his mind.

So after work he called Gibbs downstairs to his office and shut the door behind him.

"You're an idiot." He scoffed.

"Excuse me?" Gibbs was taken aback by his friends bold words.

"She loves you too. And you're just pushing her away. Listen, not every woman you are with is going to get hurt, and you need y/n. I haven't seen you that happy since, well in a long time." Gibbs sat quietly taking in the words of his colleague.

"I-I didn't know what to do Duck. She was too close and I just... I panicked." He said quietly. Ashamed at the way he had spoken to you.

"Heres what you are going to do..."

* * *

You were sitting at you desk when you received a text from Palmer that you were needed in autopsy, you headed to the elevator and hopped in pressing the floor number. As you reached the floor, the doors slid open, revealing Gibbs, with a bouquet of flowers?

He stepped into the elevator, remaining quiet until it started moving. He pulled the emergency button and the elevator came to a halt. He turned slowly to face you.

"Y/n, you know I'm not good with words, and you know how much I hate apologizing. But I'm sorry for what I said and how I acted." He handed you the flowers. You took them giving him a skeptical look.

"Thank you?" You were very confused at where this was going.

"I think I'm in love with you, and that scares the hell out of me." He paused. "When I kissed you it was the best kiss I had ever had and I just didn't want to let you get close. I was scared." You knew it took a lot for him to say all of that to you, so you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"Thank you." You smiled at him. "I love you too you idiot." He chuckled at your words.

"I guess I am pretty stupid." You nodded.

"Yeah, but I know how you can make it up to me." You said a mischievous glint in your eyes. And boy did he make it up to you.

--------

Let me know what you think about this one! I loved this. I know its short, but I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so keep them coming! If you would like an idea of what to request here is my promt list, and if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

#imagine #gibbs x reader #angst #fluff #jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #gibbs imagine #ncis gibbs #ducky #plamer #dinozzo #mcgee #ncis #ncis imagine

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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

Text

Whispers

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 5k | Idol AU

Summary: Donghyuck has been busy promoting his new album and no matter how much he misses you, he can’t see you in person due to his schedules. Desperate for your touch, he begins to call you late at night.

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk (but is it still called ‘dirty talk’ if Donghyuck is just being honest and saying whatever that comes to his mind?), no plot with a lot of dialogues

The vibration of your iPhone wakes you up from your dream. Being thrown back so suddenly to reality makes you feel slightly lightheaded but it’s all worth it the second you see his name written on your screen. Rubbing your eyes away from sleep, you answer his call, “Hyuck?”

“Hey, Noona.” The airiness of his honeyed voice sounds familiar and pleasant in your ears that it instantly paints a smile on your face. “Did I wake you?”

You refrain yourself from yawning. “Yeah, I fell asleep reading.” Narrowing your eyes irritatedly at the brightness of the fluorescent light hanging on your ceiling, you decide to switch it off and uses the dim glow of the bedside lamp instead.

“What time is it?” He gasps when he notices the time on his screen. “Three AM?! Shit, I didn’t realize it was this late. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t be sleeping anyway. I still have to work on my papers, so it’s actually good that you woke me up.” You nuzzle close to the pillow, holding your phone to your ear with one hand, blinking sleepily. “Did you just get back from schedule?”

“Yeah.” He sighs wearily. “I’m dead tired right now. I wish I could just take a day off, you know? I mean, performing is fun, but promoting a new album can be so hectic. I’ve only been sleeping for, like, two hours per day since last week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You bring the teddy bear he’d given you on your birthday close to your chest, pretending like you were embracing him. “I wish you could take some days off, too.”

“Yeah?” Somehow, he sounds like he’s smiling. “Then do what?”

“I don’t know, play games, I guess? Or just lie around in bed, doing nothing.”

“I’d rather be doing something, actually.” He chuckles softly, a hint of teasing in his voice. “Or someone.”

“Gross,” you retort but you can feel your lips curving upwards. “It’s okay if you want to rest, Hyuck. You don’t have to force yourself to call me every day. Your health should be your number one priority.”

“What, you don’t want me to call you?”

You freeze. “Of course I want you to call me. I just—”

“I thought you’d be excited to hear my voice.”

The sudden bitterness in his tone makes you sit up from the bed, eyebrows adjoined in confusion. “What—Hyuck—”

“You know what?” He exhales loudly. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have called. It’s late anyway.“

“Can you please just listen—”

“I’m tired. Let’s just talk tomorrow.”

“But—”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Hyuck—” But you’re only answered by silence when the line gets disconnected. You stare at your phone, eyes wide in disbelief.

What the hell just happened?

Upset and vexed, you dial his number. You wait with your jaw clenched until he picks up on the fourth ring. “Can’t you listen to me for one second?!” Not sure if it’s because of the drowsiness or exhaustion, but you find yourself shouting even before he says anything. “Of course, I want you to call me, you idiot! It’s the only thing I’ve been waiting all day. Every day, Hyuck, I wait for your call every day. I keep catching myself checking on my phone every ten minutes, waiting for your texts, wanting to call you. I miss you, of course, I miss you—you’re—” You turn stiff when you hear him cackling from the other side of the phone. “Are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry.” His laughter is contagious but you put up your best effort not to get infected. “You’re so cute when you get all riled up. Isn’t it obvious that I was just joking?”

“Right. I’m hanging up.”

“Wait, Noona—” You listen to him with your eyes throwing ice daggers to the wall. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.” There’s a small pause where you’re too irritated to talk and he’s too unsure to start but he tries. “So, like… you miss me?”

“Not right now.”

“Aaw, come on, I was just messing around.” You can imagine him puckering his lips, batting his eyelashes for forgiveness. “Please, tell me. Tell me how much you miss me.”

You throw yourself back to the bed, huffing. “I don’t think I want to.”

“You get cuter when you’re angry, you know that?” He sighs to the air. “Aaah… I miss you. I miss you so much, Noona, you don’t even know. Probably more than you miss me.”

I don’t think that’s possible. “Of course,” you reply, holding back a smile from breaking on your face. “Since I only miss you a little bit.”

“A little bit?”

“A tiny, tiny bit. On second thought, maybe I don’t miss you at all.”

“Is that so?” You can tell he’s exhausted by the way he lets out his chuckle, but it doesn’t mean it’s less sincere. “It really has been a while since we last saw each other, hasn’t it?”

You nod to yourself. “Four months.”

“You keep count, huh?” His teasing tone makes you flushed. “Love me that much, do you?”

“Around four months,” you correct him, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible when the truth is, you can practically hear your heart hammering against your ribcages. “Or maybe three? Five? I don’t know.”

“Why are you so cute? Seriously, how can you be this cute?” Donghyuck sits on the edge of his bed, lips forming so widely that it nearly splits his face in half. When his chuckles have receded, his eyes begin to soften. “I love you, Noona. You know that, right?”

People might be thinking about how lucky you are to have a member of one of the most prestigious boybands in the world confessing his love for you at 3 AM, but honestly? You’re just so grateful for the fact that Lee Donghyuck, a boy who stole your heart nearly a decade ago when you were too young to even understand the word love, finally realized that your entire relationship with him was deeper than a mere friendship. It took years for both of you to finally gain enough bravery to act out your feelings, especially when he managed to shine brighter than you could ever imagine being. You were afraid of it—afraid that you would be burnt by his fame, afraid that he would discard you for he had everything and you only had him. But Donghyuck didn’t want anything. He only wanted you.

You love him. You’ve been loving him for as long as you can remember so hearing him say the words, no matter how often he has mentioned it already, still sparks fire through your veins. You’ll never admit that out loud, though.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot these days,” he sheepishly adds.

“More than you think about yourself?” You snort. “I’m shocked.”

“Eeyyy, I’m serious.” The sound of your giggle makes him sigh, longing to hear it in person. “I wish I could be with you right now. I thought about you a lot during today’s photoshoot too.” He lies down on the bed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought about our last date. About that red dress you wore. Man, you looked so cute in that dress.”

You half-buried your face in the pillow, heat blossoming on your cheeks. “Now this is the topic I like to talk about.”

Donghyuck scrunches up his nose. “Aren’t you gonna say I looked nice too that day?”

Even the slightest thought of him—any version of him, whether it was him dressing handsomely on a date or him waking up in the morning with a bird’s nest on his head—never fails to send butterflies swirling in your stomach, but again, you’ll never admit that out loud. “Meh,” you jeer, even adding a shrug when you know he won’t be able to see. “Could’ve dressed better. I mean, ripped jeans? Really?”

“Yah, yah, yah. You said I looked good wearing those jeans!”

“We were going to a fancy restaurant and I wore a semi-formal dress, Hyuck. They just didn’t match my outfit. They didn’t match anyone’s outfit there, really.”

“Really? You’re gonna say that? Even after you spent the whole night stealing glances at me with drool on your face?”

You wish you could say he was lying, but you indeed spent the entire night drooling at him over the sight of his black leather jacket and the way his jeans just wrapped his thighs so perfectly. “I have lost interest in this topic.” It’s for the best before you combust into flames. “Where are you right now?”

“Back at the dorm.” He softly yawns. “In my room.”

“Alone?”

“Yep, since Johnny-hyung is filming out of town.” When you stay quiet, unsure of what to say, Donghyuck grins mischievously. “Why, do you wanna sneak in? I think I can afford to lose some sleep tonight, if you know what I mean.”

Flustered, you retort, “After Johnny caught us cuddling last time? No way.”

“Yeah, about that,” Donghyuck says a little awkwardly, “After you went home he said to me that he heard the whole thing—”

“What do you mean the whole thing?” The horror in your face and your voice is clear.

“I meant, the whole thing. Us having sex and stuff.”

You could practically feel the exact moment when your soul is leaving your body, but Donghyuck continues as if he’s simply talking about getting caught cheating during a test. “But it’s okay, he’s cool. He’s got my back.”

“Oh my God.” You nearly faint. “I will never show my face in front of your roommate, ever again.”

“Yeah, about that—“

“Are you fucking kidding me, Hyuck—”

“Jaehyun-hyung heard us too.”

“What?!”

“And he told Mark-hyung about it later on, and that’s the reason why I had this bump on my head for three days.” Donghyuck pouts, rubbing the back of his head, lean fingers carding through soft brown locks. “He hit me with a book, lecturing me about bringing you to the dorm as if he never did that himself.”

Not trying to overreact about it, but you’re suffocating by this point. “Why are you so chill about this?!”

“They heard us having sex, not murdering the innocents.” He rolls his eyes but seems amused at your reaction. “To be honest, I hear a lot of stuff happening in our dorm that I’m sure you don’t wanna know. Like, a lot a lot. Way worse than what I did with you.”

“And does Taeyong know about this?”

“Taeyong-hyung needs his beauty sleep so we agreed not to tell him stuff.”

“I feel sorry for him.”

“I just feel sorry he’s not part of our antics.” Donghyuck shrugs, kicking off his shoes and socks before he leans against the headboard. “How about you? Are you alone?”

“Yeah.” You heavily sigh, still feeling quite dizzy after hearing the truth he just blurted out. “My roommate’s gone for the weekend.”

“Oh…” He taps his fingers against his stomach, a weird feeling swirling inside his chest as a thought begins to form. “That’s… great…”

Donghyuck’s tongue lays heavy in his mouth, suddenly loses the ability to form a simple conversation as his mind begins to focus entirely on something else. It all started that one night when he pretended to be asleep, when in fact, he was listening to his roommate, Johnny, speaking to his girlfriend in hushed whispers. The way the older man was chuckling to his phone was suspicious, and the more he tried to listen intently, the more he realized that Johnny wasn’t conversing. He was giving orders with a voice thick with seduction. The sensual words Johnny used made Donghyuck’s ears turn scarlet, and he buried his face deeper behind his blanket. Since then, the curiosity within him has been rising more and more, nearly suffocating him sometimes when he desperately yearned for your touch but his schedule never let him take a goddamn break.

Not knowing the dirty thoughts that flit across his mind, you carry on your conversation like usual. “I guess, but it does get lonely sometimes when she’s not around. I actually like having a roommate.” The sandalwood aroma from your diffuser, combined with his velvety voice, comforts you and you’re finally able to relax. “Have you been eating well? I’ve been craving for strawberry—”

“What are you wearing?”

“—pancakes—what?”

“I…” Donghyuck heaves out a heavy breath, biting the corner of his lip, unsure yet not ready to give up on his desire. “I just… I was wondering—Are you wearing pajamas?”

“Umm…” The way he asks about it sends heat rising to your cheeks. He doesn’t sound as innocent as the words he uses. You look down, fingers curling at the hemline of your clothes. “I’m wearing one of your shirts, actually.”

Donghyuck throws his head back, eyes tightly shut as he curses silently into the air, his phone pressed against his chest. The sight of you wearing his oversized shirt has been one of his most recurring fantasies and not being able to see you, but knowing that you are wearing his shirt, kills him.

“Hyuck?”

Donghyuck brings his phone back to his ear. “Sorry, there was a… Mark.” He mentally slaps himself on the head.

“There was a Mark?”

“I mean, Mark-hyung was here—but he just left so—"

“Are you drunk again?”

“No!” Donghyuck rubs his temple. This is not going well, he shouts in his mind. “Why—” He winces when he hears his voice crack. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

Because it smells like you and it helps me sleep better. “Just because,” you quietly mumble, eyes locked to the ceiling. “Why are you asking me this exactly?”

“Just because,” he mimics. His breathing sounds more prominent as if he’s in the same room, only a few inches away from your ear. It’s the reason why you enjoy talking to him this way instead of taking video calls. You can focus solely on his honeyed voice, almost like a lullaby to your ears. “Can you tell me…” he continues, laced with both hesitation and anticipation, “What else you're wearing?”

“Umm…” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself composed. “I don’t think I want to say.”

“Please, Noona.” The sudden desperation in his plead startles you as if he’s losing control of himself, little by little. He seems to notice that too because when he speaks again, it’s steadier, almost formal. “I just… I want to know. If that’s okay.”

“Well…” You curl your toes. “Aside from your shirt, I’m…” Just say it, for God’s sake. He’s your boyfriend. He’s seen you naked. “I’m only wearing my panties.”

There’s a pause that makes your heart thump. “Not, uhh…” Donghyuck wets his lip. “Not even a bra?”

You fiddle with your fingers. “N-no.”

“Fuck.”

You nearly drop your phone. The guttural groan he just emitted from the back of his throat catches you off guard. “Hyuck..?”

“Noona, there’s—” Donghyuck sits up straight, nails nearly sinking to his jean-clad thigh. “There’s something I want to try.” There’s a sense of urgency mixed with minimum self-control. “I-if you don’t mind…”

You know where this is going. “What is it?”

“Just—Just follow my lead, okay?”

You shakily nod your head. When he calls out your name again, you remember that you have to say it in words. “Okay.”

“Can you…” Donghyuck’s heart is beating out of control. His mind desperately tries to answer how the fuck do I start this?! “Can you, umm, lie down on the bed for me?”

You can tell he’s nervous and it’s both reassuring and endearing to know that he’s never done this with anyone else before and probably not mentally ready to do it with you, but tries to go all the way because he knows both of you need to find a way to release all of these pent-up emotions.

You follow his order. “I’m…” You take a deep breath so your voice won’t tremble too much. “I’m lying on my bed.”

Donghyuck always takes a few seconds before answering, as if he’s battling inside his head as he tries to sort out his thoughts. “Is your light turned on?”

“Yes.”

“Turn it off.”

You switch off the button on your bedside lamp. “Okay, it’s off.”

“Okay, mine too.” Then all you can hear is his slightly ragged breathing. “It’s… a bit awkward, isn’t it?” He chuckles nervously, followed by an inaudible, “Fuck, why am I so nervous,” as he’s straying away from the phone.

A smile paints your lips. “You’re adorable.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

When silence strikes, Donghyuck scratches his cheek. “Do you… want to know what I’m wearing?”

You gulp. “S-sure.”

“Well…” Donghyuck takes a look at himself. “I’m wearing a denim jacket, a white shirt, a pair of jeans—I just got back from a photoshoot so—”

So he must look good. “Take them off.”

He’s probably as startled as you are when you hear the words tumbling down your mouth. But even if he is as embarrassed as you are, he doesn’t make it as obvious. “Sure.” A rustling sound can be heard, and you let your imagination wander. You can tell he’s taking off his jacket and soon, his shirt will follow. Donghyuck would always take his shirt off by grabbing the fabric from the back and yank it over his head, instead of crossing his arms at his waist. There’s something masculine about it, but you tend to get more distracted at the way his muscles would contract in his lean stomach. His silver necklace would dangle around his neck, and he’d smirk whenever he caught you staring at him for a second too long.

“My shirt’s off,” he quietly states, snapping you out of your reverie. “Now take yours off—wait! Wait. Leave it on. I want to imagine you wearing my shirt. Just take off your panties.”

“I’m—” It’s so damn hard to focus when you feel so ashamed just by hearing his instructions. “Okay…” Your fingers are quivering when they slide down your stomach, thumb hooking around the hem before you pull your lingerie down to the middle of your thighs.

“Lie down,” he whispers, “Prop a pillow behind your back. Are you comfortable?”

“Y-yeah, just…” You sigh, head going dizzy. “Embarrassed.”

The airy laughter that flows from his mouth is too innocent to be heard in this kind of situation. “So cute. Me too, actually. I’ve never done this before.” When his chuckles have receded, the nervousness grows vivid in his voice once again. “Do you, umm... Do you want to stop?”

You’re supposed to say yes, or at least a bit conflicted about it, so it shocks you when you immediately answer, “No,” without hesitation.

“Thank God.” Donghyuck sighs, smiling softly against the phone. “‘Cause I wouldn’t know what to do if you said yes.” He unbuckles his belt with one hand, taking it off as his heartbeat soars through the roof. “Then, umm… can you spread your legs? As wide as you can.”

You feel so exposed even when no one is looking. Following his guidance, you question, “What about you? What are you doing?”

“I’m…” Donghyuck swallows hard, looking down at the way his hand is pressing against his semi-hardness. “I’m rubbing myself over my pants.”

Fuck, you mentally groan. “Why aren’t you touching yourself directly?”

“Cause I want to wait for you.” He has his eyes closed, hand slipping under the hemline of his jeans, stroking himself over his boxer. “I want to picture you rubbing your fingers on your clit. I want to hear you moan my name when you do.”

Oh my God. “Then guide me,” you plead. There’s something so irresistibly sexy about him touching himself while picturing you pleasuring yourself with your fingers. “Tell me what to do, Hyuck.”

He runs his tongue over his lower lip. The excitement of being able to act as a puppeteer, tugging on your strings, sends all blood rushing south. “Can you push your shirt up? Don’t take it off, just—” He exhales, taking a moment to collect himself after a certain obscene thought of you touching yourself entered his mind. “Just make sure it’s not in the way.”

“Okay.” You grip the hemline of your shirt, pulling it up until it pools above your chest. “Now, what?”

“I want you to touch your breasts.” You’re more aroused by his breathy voice and lustful tone than embarrassed at this point. “Imagine me, Noona,” Donghyuck whispers, and he sounds so close, as if he’s lying down next to you. “Imagine me with my hands on you, caressing your breasts. Can you do that?”

You squeeze your breast, mumbling out a weak, “Yes…” The memory of Donghyuck, embracing you from behind, his naked chest pressed against your spine, hot mouth lazily pressing wet kisses against your nape suddenly comes alive in your mind. You still remember how sexy he sounded moaning out your name as he rocked his hips forward, his fingers exploring around your chest, rubbing and pinching at a certain spot to make you press closer to him in desperation for more of his touch.

“Suck on your fingers, make them wet, then bring them back down.” Donghyuck’s hips are bucking against his hand, his fingers tugging his zipper down. “Imagine my mouth latching on your nipple, sucking it the way I always do. The way you like me to do.”

You bring your fingers to your mouth, coating two of them with saliva before you bring them back down to pinch your sensitive bud. With your eyes closed and his heavy breathing in your ear, the wet sensation of your fingers gives you a clear image of his tongue flicking against your nub.

“Tell me how you feel.”

“It’s not enough,” you croak out, “I want to feel you directly on my skin.”

Donghyuck takes a sharp breath. “You don’t even know how much I want to be there and touch you.” The way his voice suddenly becomes deep sends shivers down your spine. “I want to suck bruises on your skin. I want to mark you everywhere, again and again, so the bruises will last for days. I want you to remember me every time you see yourself in the mirror.”

You sheepishly smile, though your heart is still racing. “I always remember you even without that, Haechannie.”

The sudden change of his name warms his heart. “I wish you’re the only one who calls me that. You make my stage name sounds better, special. I could have thousands of people screaming my name but none of them makes me feel the way you do.” As he slides his hand under his boxer, finally making direct contact with his skin, Donghyuck becomes desperate once again. “Bring your other hand down. I want you to touch yourself, Noona, please.”

You slide your hand between your legs, tentatively rubbing yourself between your folds. “Hyuck…”

“Does it feel good?”

You nod, eyes shut, and your mind wanders. “Yes…”

“Rub your clit for me. And imagine I’m doing that with my tongue.”

You can picture him with his head between your legs so perfectly behind your closed eyelids. He has done it several times and you remember how he would always start slow, placing open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh before dipping his head down and swipe his tongue along your folds—all the while never breaking eye-contact. He would press a kiss against your clit, and lick you slowly because he’d want you to beg for it. He never directly told you but you could tell he liked being in control because the second you whispered “Please, Hyuck,” he would immediately indulge you with everything you wanted and more.

Donghyuck would suck hard on your clit, doing it so suddenly that you’d nearly crush him by wrapping your legs too tightly around his head. Amazed and delighted by your reaction, he would break into a smile with his tongue still darting out to taste you, mouth pressing harder against your skin until he plunged his tongue inside your heat.

You moan out his name at the memory, directly to the phone.

“Fuck, baby, you sound so perfect…” Donghyuck nearly whimpers and the word baby stirs something within you as he never called you that before.

“Call me like that again…” You rub yourself harder on the spot you like the most. “Please, Hyuck…”

“Baby…” Donghyuck’s fingers are curling harder around his length, pumping himself in accordance to every gasp and moan you’re emitting. “I wish I could see you—I wish I could lock my eyes with yours as I eat you up. I want to see your face, every single expression you make—I bet you look so cute, so goddamn... erotic.”

Your hold around your phone loosens but fortunately for you, the pillow pressing against it keeps it close to your ear. “Touch yourself,” you breathily murmurs, “I want you to touch yourself too.”

“I am, baby,” Donghyuck softly moans, his fingers tightening around his length. “What else do you want me to do?”

“I want you to stroke yourself harder and run your thumb over your slit.” Donghyuck zealously follows, cursing under his breath at the pleasure. “And I want you to keep doing it until my name escapes your lips.”

“God, I want you.” He repeats your name over and over again, as ordered, with him stroking himself faster each time. “Noona, I want your mouth on me. I want to see you hollow your cheeks around me—like how you did to me when we were backstage, that time after the concert. You looked so pretty that night, so eager—so desperate for me—”

“Me too. I want to make you feel good too. I—” You nip at your bottom lip, feeling goosebumps creeping up your skin when he moans out your name. You’ve always loved his voice, loved it more than anything else in the world, and the sounds he makes when he’s in bed with you is the sexiest thing that even your poor mind can’t even begin to imagine. And now, focusing solely on his voice, listening to his filthy, sinful words, he’s driving you to the edge of your sanity.

“I’ve touched myself before at the thought of you,” he confesses breathlessly, “Several times, even way before we started dating.”

You’re trembling at the thought. “Haechannie—”

“You don’t know just how much—” The sound of him trying to stifle down a moan only makes you crave for him more. “—how much I wanted you back then. How much I want you now. Even during high school, I just—I wanted you—wanted to touch you—wanted—ah fuck,” a whine slipped out his lips, “Wanted to hold you so bad, to make love to you until—”

At the rustling sounds, him whimpering at his touches, and you rubbing yourself on the perfect spot, you know you won’t last long. “H-Hyuck, are you close?”

“Just a little bit more, Noona, ah—” He thrashes his head against the pillow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows hard. “Fuck, I need to be inside you. I need to feel you clenching your walls around me.” At the memory of you gazing at him with anticipation building inside your seductive, half-lidded eyes, as you parted your legs to give him permission to ravish you the way he wanted, Donghyuck quickens the pace, thrusting vigorously into his hand. “Fuck yourself with your fingers, baby, please.”

You’re more than keen to follow, inserting one digit inside your heat with another one following soon after. You can visualize him bringing your legs in the air until they dangle over his shoulders, his hips slamming hard against yours with each thrust. “Hyuck—”

“If you were here right now,” he nearly growls, “I would fuck you so hard until you’re mewling my name against the sheets. And I won’t stop, I won’t stop even if you beg me to. I won’t stop until I’m done with you.”

Donghyuck doesn’t sound like he’s trying to dirty talk which only makes it even more arousing to your ear. It’s as if he’s losing control of his mouth, just saying anything that comes to mind. The honesty, the urgency, his breathy, desperate calls of your name between lewd words—

You choke out a sob. “Hyuck—I’m close—”

“Me too—N-noona—Kiss me—”

It’s one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever felt and it’s funny because you never really enjoyed touching yourself before. Donghyuck follows a few seconds after, moaning your name so erotically that will probably give you a hard time falling asleep for days at the thought of it. You’re left dazed, staring at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. Your phone lays forgotten on the pillow next to you. Mustering all the strength you have left, you reach out for it. “Hyuck…?”

You can hear him breathing heavily. “I’m here,” he says. “Are you okay? Did you get to come?”

“Y-yes.” Now that it’s over, you begin to feel self-conscious again and the heat that blooms on your cheeks nearly wash every bit of your orgasm away in an instant. “Did you?”

“I made a huge mess.” He chuckles, sounding just as embarrassed as you are. “Fuck, didn’t realize it was going to be this good when we started. What would’ve happened if we had Face-Timed each other instead?”

Your head nearly explodes at the thought. “One step at a time, Hyuck. I’m practically dying from shame right now.”

He laughs a little at that. “So, you don’t really oppose the idea? Man, I have something to look forward to then.”

“Shut up, you’re gross. Is this the reason you called me?”

“No,” he hastily says, “I swear, I called because I missed hearing your voice.” Then he thinks about it again. “Well, I mean, I have been thinking about doing, uhh, these kinds of things with you but trust me, it wasn’t the reason why I called.”

“Sure,” you flatly reply, teasing him.

“Yah, yah, yah, it’s your fault for saying that you were wearing nothing but my shirt!”

“It’s your fault for asking me what I was wearing!”

It’s always like this with him. You’re bickering at one point, having sex at another time, then goes back to bickering once again. But it’s endearing, you suppose, because after this, you’ll be murmuring loving words, and just when you begin to think about it, Donghyuck whispers into the phone.

“I love you, Noona. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And you smile. “I love you too, Haechannie. You’re the second best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“What the hell is the first one?”

“Chicken nuggets.”

“You’re so dead.”

***

817 notes · View notes

princessofprocrastination · 4 years ago

Text

The Waiting Game (Karl Jacobs)

MASTERLIST

summary : he tells you to wait, to be patient, which you follow, but until when can you wait while you watch him flirt with other girls on the internet?

it was simple really. you were just meant to wait. wait for him to be ready, as he called it.

your friends would tell you that the only thing you’re waiting for is for him to choose you when no one else wants him, as a rebound. they tell you that you’re waiting for the day he stop trying to attract the attention of other women instead of you.

they tell you that this won’t end, the waiting. they tell you that this was just his way of keeping you around.

but you don’t believe them. and it’s simple why you didn’t. you love him. and love doesn’t budge. love makes people blind.

so when he told you to wait, you did. because you loved him, you really did.

at first, you two were friends. actually not even. you two simply knew each other’s names, no more than that.

and then as you two progressed from knowing each other’s names to playing among us together with corpse, it was smooth sailing from there.

you and corpse are close. you even know what he looks like, being this close for years now. and as usual like the protective boy best friend, when he found out that there was something more than just friends between you and karl, he made sure karl knew to not hurt you, or else.

and it sure did shaken karl up, but that didn’t last long. the dating didn’t last long. it was a short time of bliss you wished you could feel again. but that’s not how time works. it moves forward.

months after months of what seemed to be dilly dally and wondering what each other’s feelings were, you confronted him. you told him that you thought it was time for your relationship to progress, that it was time to move forward together.

and you thought he was feeling the same about that, you really did, that was the only reason why you felt confident enough to confront him, unlike other times.

but it was different. it wasn’t what you expected. his answer wasn’t what you expected.

he told you he wasn’t ready. he told you he needed time before you two could be more than what you were at that moment. you didn’t even know what you were at that point.

but it made more sense when time went by. he wasn’t ready for a relationship yet, but he was too scared to tell you.

“i’m just not ready to take the next step.” he told you. and you’d nod your head and tell him not to worry about it.

“wait for me.” he’d tell you. and you reassured him tha t you would. and you did just that. you waited.

one month go by, three, seven, ten months then. nothing. your relationship was stagnant.

corpse would check in with you all the time, made sure you were healthy and that you were happy. and at first, you were. you told him everything. that karl wasn’t ready but you were willing to wait.

and he praised you for being so patient, for waiting. but, he didn’t think you’d be waiting for over a year.

sure, he did think it’d be more than six months, given that karl is busy with mr beast videos and his own. but he didn’t think it would be this long.

but corpse never did say anything about it, not to karl, not to you. he would just listen every time you talked about it. he was happy that he could be there for you. but it broke his heart to see you like that.

before anyone says the opposite, you and corpse have a strictly platonic relationship. you two were platonic soulmates, as people would say. and the both of you enjoyed the term. you thought it was adorable.

furthermore, it made you and corpse happy that people weren’t doing unnecessary shipping between the two of you.

back to the topic, corpse is a quiet man. he stays quiet, but he observes everyone’s moves. he can understand someone’s behaviour without knowing them for long.

so when it came the time rae made an among us room, including him, karl and you, he wanted to observe karl’s behaviour.

there were tiktokers on that server, to which was the icing on top of a cake for corpse, since he didn’t really fancy those ditzy people who made content on tiktok.

you knew how much he disliked some people and made sure that he didn’t say things he doesn’t want the world to know, even though he feels like snapping. you were there to intervene when things went south.

but something corpse noticed was that karl wasn’t really talking to you. aside from the greetings at the start of rae’s stream, you two didn’t talk very much. instead, he talked to the tiktoker, mostly the girls.

this confused corpse. he needed to know if you were hiding something from him. something that you didn’t tell him. had karl and you decide to be just friends or was he not seeing something right here?

as both you and corpse are dead with nothing to do, corpse texts you, after sending you back a 8 ball game.

are you not telling me something? he sent the message.

? you sent back. you didn’t understand what he meant by that.

he’s clearly flirting. he sends again.

no he’s not. you send back.

don’t lie to yourself. you two have barely spoke today. corpse sends one last text before the game restarts.

i don’t know what’s going on. you sent back, deciding to be truthful to him. there’s no point in lying to your best friend.

corpse sighs. he was scared of this. two of his best friends being stuck.

but he knew what this was. you were stuck in the friendzone. stuck waiting. that was the truth he was scared of telling you. but you deserved that much, right?

you and corpse logged off your computers, now facetiming each other about what had happened.

“i’m stuck waiting forever, aren’t i?” you asked, even though you knew the answer. you needed someone to be truthful to you and tell it to your face.

corpse sighs, nodding his head to your not so question, question.

“you know, i saw the tweets.” you spoke up after a while.

“i saw him flirting with any girl he found an opportunity to flirt with.” you told him.

corpse gave you a sympathetic smile. he saw them too, he just didn’t know how to talk about it.

“i’m not stupid, i can still see things clearly.” you said again.

“i know you’re not.” corpse says. you sigh, putting your head in your arms as you tucked your legs, knees to your chest.

“you’ve waited this long, what happens next?” corpse asks, genuinely curious.

“we move on.” you told him. there you were. the fire spirited girl he knew for years. he knew no amount of water could put out the fire you had in your heart.

he envied you. sure, you can be extremely naive at times, but when you weren’t, you listened to your heart, you let the spirit in you to guide you to make the right decision, to go through the right path.

and now, the spirit in you was telling you to move on, to not keep waiting, that waiting could do more harm than good.

karl was confused at first. usually, you’d text him, check in with him, make sure he’s okay. in the first couple days, he felt relieved that you weren’t butting into his life anymore.

but then he felt like something was missing after a week, two weeks, months. he didn’t feel relieved anymore. well, not after seeing you with someone else.

okay, maybe not someone else, dating wise, but close.

you were getting close with sapnap, a fellow friend of karls. a fiance, even. it struck everyone that something was wrong, with you and karl not been interacting like usual, and now that you were close with nick, someone close to him.

sure, there are theories, but no one ever came to a conclusion. they just thought you two had a falling apart, like people normally have. and even though people who shipped you two hard was upset, they had to accept it.

but no, that wasn’t what hurt karl. it wasn’t that even his followers could see that you two aren’t talking. but it was the fact that people seem to like the fact that you and his nick were getting close.

but he knew he had no right to be mad, to be angry. it was meant to be that way. with the way he was treating you, he knew it was bound to happen.

he shouldn’t have neglected you in the first place.

he failed to see how amazing of a person you were to him, you were always so patient. you were always so calm, never angry with him, never snapped at him for no reason.

not like his exes. and yet he felt the need to push you away.

he couldn’t even make up an excuse for what he did. he can’t even lie his way out of a confrontation from corpse.

and all this guilt, all this acceptance that he was the one being a shitty person, yet he still had the nerve to be angry.

heard you been talking to someone. karl texts his ‘fiance’

who and where have you been hearing this? nick texts back.

y/n, and the internet. they’re going nuts. karl texted, going straight to the point.

well, yeah. she’s amazing. but we’re not of anything, just talking. nick texts, now serious.

be careful. karl sends another text.

?? nick sends.

she’s using you. like she did to me. karl types, and sends.

and no response back. the type bubbles came up once in a while, but died down, no text came through after.

what did she do to you? nick finally answers his text after two days. he clearly was thinking about it.

made me buy her stuff, send her merch. karl texted his friend back.

i did everything for her. and then she was just gone, never texted me back. karl continues.

why didn’t you tell me sooner? nick asks.

didn’t know you two were talking. karl finishes, going off messages,off to the kitchen, to go make dinner for himself.

nick was exasperated. he didn’t know how such an innocent, caring woman like you do that to him. how could he have not seen the signs?

you never told him to do anything for you. instead, you always rejected any offers he made.

is it because it’s too soon for you to ask him anything? did you only become close to him only to con him and hurt him in the end?

he needed to believe his friend. you were no one to him for him to believe you, but he had been friends with karl for a while.

but he needed to confront you. he hurt his friend and he won’t let you hurt him like you did to karl.

call me, it’s urgent. was the text he sent to you.

he’s never this serious, not even when he’s joking. and you knew him well enough to understand his behaviour, even when it’s just a simple text.

but you did what he told you to do, called him. actually, you facetimed him, to make sure that you weren’t just being paranoid.

“hi, we haven’t spoken in a while.” you said, tone cheery. you were genuinely excited to finally talk to him again, and not just text.

“shut up.” he snapped, face hidden in his hands as he covered it, not in the right state of mind.

your cheery look vanished from your face, at that point, you were just confused. had you done something? was this just a result of him having a bad day?

“what was your intention with me?” he said, but sounded more like a snarl.

“w-what?” you stuttered, shocked at the tone he gave you. he has never not smiled at you, let alone risen his voice at you.

“what you did to karl, were you going to do the same to me?” he squeaked out, almost crying.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, nick.” you tried.

“DON’T SAY MY NAME.” nick screamed, to which you jumped in your seat, almost knocking off a candle on your side table.

“just tell me. when were you going to make me do what you told him to do?” he said, now more quietly.

“what did i do?” you asked, now tears brimming your eyes.

“you used him, used his money. and you’re just waiting for the time to use me too.” he spat it out.

“what? why would i do that?” you asked.

“because you are one good manipulator.” he said.

“look, just because karl was syupid enough to listen to you, doesn’t mean i am. i’m thanking god he told me before you used me too.” he finished, before hanging up.

you were more than confused. sad, enraged? you felt manipulated yourself. you have never told anyone to do anything for you, especially not karl. not when he was the one who neglected you.

you didn’t feel used by him, no. you felt dirty, wronged that you waited that long, waiting for him to finally give you your deserved attention. and even after more than a year, he didn’t give you it.

so why did he tell nick you used him? you didn’t think you were doing anything wrong, at least in your perspective.

the more you thought about it, the more tears rolled down your cheek.

“did i do something. i need it from a perspective of someone else.” you asked corpse during a facetime as you wailed silently.

“no, you didn’t. you waited like a doll. you never went against what he told you to do. don’t blame yourself.” he told you.

“so why did he tell him i was using him?” you cried out.

“i really like him, corpse. i really do. i lost the chance now.” you said, exhausted from the crying all day.

“i know you do. now, calm down before you become dehydrated.” he tells you.

you just didn’t understand why karl would tell him such a thing. he didn’t want you then, he wouldn’t want you now. this wasn’t an act of jealousy. it couldn’t be.

but you wanted to find out.

it took you a while to calm down. you cried to sleep, cried when you woke up, cried when you were eating lunch. you really were on the verge of being dehydrated.

but you stopped yourself. you caught yourself before you slipped down that spiral again.

three months. that was how long it took you to finally stream again, to post on instagram again.

and now, people were just even more confused. they made up stories about you. they thought there must be something wrong about you if you had two boys distant from you.

so they talked bad about you. made up some absurd stories that other people believed.

corpse was always there for you, though. he told them that they’re being stupid, that they believe everything that’s thrown to them on the internet.

but the news never did die down.

and at some point, you were over it.

in between the three months, you made sure you resolved this.

you texted nick every single day from the day he hung up on you. called him whenever you could. until he blocked you. you didn’t even think he read the messages, or opened your voicemails.

so you did what you would do on impulse. rage. well, not really. you don’t have a temper, you never did. but you acted on impulse.

you met him. you met karl. or shall you say, you showed up on his doorstep, while he was forced to hear what you had to say, what you had to do.

“you came?” karl asked. opening his door to see you was not what he had expected.

you came close to him. you almost saw him grin. you knew exactly what he thought about, and you weren’t going to satisfy him.

you slapped him. hard across the face. hard enough his face was shoved to the side, as stumbled, balance gone. he obviously didn’t see that coming.

“i waited and waited. waited like a scared little puppy.” you snarled through your teeth.

“but you neglected me. you didn’t see me as your girlfriend, or a potential one. you saw me as a potential rebound. someone to still be there for you, to accept you after you got rejected from the girls you actually wanted.” you said in one breath.

“and when i went away for a while, you missed me. not at first. you were relieved i was gone, and then you missed me. and then you heard i was talking to nick.” you cried out, now tears going down your face.

you stopped to catch your breath, staring at him. or more like glaring at him, waiting for him to confess he did something. but he stared at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“you took away a whole year of my time, my undivided attention, my heart. you took so much away from me and now you’re selfish enough to take away someone i actually like for once?” you asked.

“just because your life is miserable, doesn’t mean you can make mine miserable too” you finished saying. you glared at him once more before leaving his place, to get back home.

in your journey home, corpse called you. he was doing what he always did, to check up on you. you told him everything, the slap, you told him every single word you told karl.

it felt good for a while, to get it all out. but your heart, there was still a hole in it. and there was only one thing in the world to fill that. and you don’t think it’s possible to obtain.

when you came back after three months, karl and nick remained quiet. they didn’t say anything.

and even though you came back, it didn’t mean you were healthy. you looked sickly, not having much sleep in the night. not much to eat either, hence the weight loss over the months.

and people did notice this, it was hard to miss.

but you tried to cover it up, with the large smiles and loud laughter. you did your best to distract people to ask you the question.

to ask if you’re doing okay.

the truth is, you’re not okay. your eyes felt heavy all the time, you lungs hurt like hell and you always felt exhausted, yet you couldn’t sleep.

and you knew people noticed, you knew corpse noticed. he just didn’t want to push you. he was being cautious around you. he didn’t want you to break more than you already were.

karl, on the other hand, he felt stressed out. the moment you left his house, all he could think about was you. and this time, he hadn’t mean that in the crush or love type of way. not anymore, at least.

now, all he can think about was how stupid he was acting. he had no reason to lash out like that, especially when you had done nothing wrong to him.

he had no right to be mad at you, let alone say it all to someone you truly liked. he remembered how devastated nick was when he told him all those lies.

he needed to find a way to end this. he needed to redeem himself. he needed to make it up to you, make it up to nick. he didn’t want to

i lied. karl texted nick.

immediately, he got a call from him. karl wasn’t ready for that, he didn’t expect him to be awake at this moment.

“what do you mean?” nick asked. he didn’t think about the text seriously, just some minor thing karl may have said during the lore or something.

“she didn’t use me.” karl answers.

silence. karl could see nick’s expression change from a not tense cheery face to a tense confusion one. karl felt concious of the bile in his throat now.

“i made the story up. i didn’t want her to end up with you.” he continues.

“what?” nick, now more confused.

“i had no right, i know. but after a couple months, i realised she wasn’t waiting on me anymore, and i hated that, i’m sorry.” karl said.

“she came by my house, slapped me and put me in my place. i know i have no right, nick, i’m sorry.” he finishes, waiting for nick to say something.

“i really liked her, karl. why did you have to ruin that for me? she was one of a kind.” nick cried.

“she really likes you, she told me. i hope you two make things right.” karl begged.

“have you seen her dude, she looks miserable. you did that to her, i did that to her.” nick shouted, his tears never ending.

“you didn’t, i did. and i am so sorry i did that. i didn’t mean it to go this far.” karl said.

“this far? she looks exhausted, starving. she looks sick, karl. why the fuck would you do that to someone like her?” nick asked, now more exasperated.

“i’m sorry, i really am sorry, nick.” karl starts to cry.

“apologise to her, you fucking idiot. you ruined the one thing that was going right for me.” nick said before he hung up on karl.

karl was devastated. he lost a friend, and last year, he had lost you. but you didn’t matter to him as much anymore, he wanted to see you with his friend.

karl cared a lot about nick and he only wants what’s best for him. and if that means giving up on you, he’d do it.

he didn’t know where he was going with hurting the both of you, anyways. it wasn’t like you were going to crawl to him when nick didn’t want you anymore.

god, was he stupid.

life was going well for you. well, if you could even say that. you lost a lot of weight, your eyes looked like death. but all is well, since you were still doing the things you love, making content.

you were playing another round of among us, one of the last rounds of the day, having been played for almost three hours now.

“damn, you are one good imposter.” toast commented, corpse agreeing.

“learnt from the best.” you said, giving your webcam a wink before grinning and looking back onto your pc.

“and who is that?” corpse says, teasingly, almost as if he was waiting for you to say him.

“not you, that’s for sure.” you laughed as you said that.

“brutal.” poki chimed.

“it’s obviously me.” sykkuno tried.

“nope, definitely me.” valkyrae added, arguing with them. you sat back on your chair, relaxing into it as you laughed at their petty arguments, trying to one up each other.

“bro, twitter is crazy right now.” ludwig came out to say.

when you heard that, your curiosity got the best of you. you went on twitter on your phone as you tried to multitask with reading your twitch chat, seeing if they knew anything about it.

the whole world could then see how surprised you were to see your name trending first in america. you gave the camera a scared and concerned look before clicking on your name.

you thought you had done something wrong, that it was your time to get cancelled. but you were wrong, so wrong.

karl tweeted something about you?

you clicked on subtweets after subtweets to find the original tweet he sent out. you scrolled for a couple seconds before you found it.

he apologised? for what? there was no way he was apologising for making me wait. that was so long ago, you barely remembered why you stayed on for so long.

sapnap’s name is in the tweet.

OH.

it was because of the most recent thing.

but how is it his fault? you read more of it.

he talked about making you wait for him while he scouts for a new, better girl he felt best suited for him. he spoke about neglecting you and taking you for granted.

and lastly, he talked about taking his best friend’s chance away from you using lies he made up, lies about him talking bad about you.

you didn’t cry. you didn’t feel tears coming at all, if you were being honest. you were just confused. but the confusion turned to concern. why did he talk about it now, especially publicly?

he wasn’t one to announce anything this big. he was being reckless, and you wanted to know why.

“what the hell.” you spoke out loud this time. the vc felt too eerily quiet that it was starting to make you feel uncomfortable.

‘it’s about fucking time he maned up.” corpse said out, laughing about the statement he made.

“i am in shock.” you told your best friend and rest of them. you just had to sit there on your chair for a while, to process everything properly before you could say anything further.

“you look like you would pass out any second.” toast pointed out, clearly watching your stream. you smiled at the comment.

your discord pinged. someone sent you a message. you opened discord on your other monitor to avoid exposing yourself somehow, not knowing what the viewers are able to find out with little information.

it was karl. he sent you a discord message. and you saw another from quackity, one of his best friends. you opened quackity’s. you wanted to avoid the question in matter for as long as you could.

saw the tweet? he sent you a message.

yeah, i did. it was something. you typed back.

i did not expect that. careful opening karl’s text. he sent back.

got it. opening his now. you sent.

you sighed, composing yourself before you opened his message, but making it less obvious, knowing that you were still streaming.

“one sec, guys. gotta do something.” you told them. they’d understand. you were sure that your views were going up because of this, anyways.

i’m sorry, i really am. his message says.

why’d you do it? you asked, simply.

jealousy. realised i missed out on something good. he typed. you rolled your eyes.

but that’s not the point. karl sends you another message.

then what is? you asked again. you were tired and you wanted nothing more than this to end.

you and nick are meant to be together. i was just selfish. i took the best thing to ever happen to him, away for him. let me make it better. please. he begged.

you’ve already hurt me once. you typed and sent back. now sighing and going back to your stream to get ready to end it.

your phone rung. a facetime. it was corpse. without a doubt, you picked up your phone.

“your life is a movie.” he laughed hard that you could feel the tummy ache forming.

“shut up.” you rolled your eyes teasingly.

you put down your phone, still facing you so corpse could see what you were doing while you ended the stream, apologising that the ending was different and not like the others.

you picked up your phone to bring corpse along to your kitchen. you were feeling hungry from the long stream you had to sit through.

you two were talking about the issue on hand at first, until you two finally found a different subject to talk about. you two kept talking and ranting on the phone, laughing most of the time for hours until you heard your door handle jiggle, someone trying to open your door.

and then a knock. you became aware and started thinking about who could want to meet you at this time. you looked at your phone, at corpse’s face as he showed the same expression as you did.

“dude, this is when i die.” you joked but half serious.

“shut the fuck up and do not open the door.” he told you, obviously serious, not joking at all.

“i am opening the door.” you told him.

he look at you like you were the stupidest person on planet earth.

“are you being fucking serious? no.” he told you.

he was too late, you were already at your door handle. just one turn and you could open your house door.

you opened it slowly, still aware of the danger that could be behind that door.

but all the bad thoughts went out the window when you saw the person on your porch.

nick stepped up, to move closer to you, coming in your house. he did it all in a split second. he put one hand on your waist, the other on your neck, fingers on your cheek, not giving you time to speak, he put his lips on yours.

you dropped your phone on impulse, putting your hands where it felt most appropriate, his neck.

you could hear corpse screaming, wondering what was happening, if you were in any kind of danger. but you were so focused.

“one more chance, is all i’m asking for. and i won’t take that chance for granted.” he told you, his forehead touching yours. you nodded.

“best first meeting ever.” you whispered, more to yourself but you were sure nick could hear from the small laugh he let out.

you were sure corpse almost called your state police at that point, if it weren’t for you picking up your phone after that. he had tears in his eyes, panicking.

that’s the corpse you know and love.

worst and best day ever.

#karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs imagines #sapnap imagines #sapnap x reader #sapnap imagine #sapnap

533 notes · View notes

jockpoetry · 4 years ago

Text

Dean’s Canon Divergent 42nd Birthday.

(on ao3)

The bunker was still, Sam and Eileen were...somewhere, and currently they didn’t have any visitors. No guests, no wayward hunters, or any friends stopping by to catch their breath. Not even family. It was, for once, just Dean, his broken leg, and a case of beer that was mostly empties now.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me,” the words weren’t slurred, even though he felt the weight and warmth of alcohol resting heavy on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d acknowledged his own birthday, but in the solitude of the bunker it felt right to at least say the words aloud.

The hovered above him as he contemplated beer four - five, maybe - and wondered if it was time to hit the harder stuff. An uncomfortable lump had begun to form somewhere above his heart. He pushed out of the chair, half-drunk off the now warm beers Dean heaved himself upward and swayed on his feet for a beat. The main room of the bunk swum before his eyes before he shut them, steadying himself.

He felt stale, sore, and exhausted. Which meant that it was definitely time to switch to something harder. The path to his room was familiar and before he knew it tired hands pulled drawers open until the glass of an unfinished bottle of bourbon he’d opened the other night was welcome against his palm.

Not bothering to find a glass he took the bottle to his bed, the cap flicked off to the side with a quiet clatter. The cool of the liquor was crystalline after a haze of lukewarm beers. One hand holding the bottle steady he adjusted his pillow behind him and settled down, eyes staring unseeingly straight ahead.

This was kind of pathetic, even for him, wasn’t it? Getting drunk, alone, on your birthday. Another small pull of the bourbon quieted those thoughts, even if it didn’t fully dull the ache of too many questions he never let himself ponder. The bunker was too quiet, though, and Dean wasn’t sure even if he put music on and cranked it as loud as it could go it would drum out the thunder in his head.

How old was he?

Did he count the years in hell, or not? Does he count the one in purgatory? How about the hundred days he lived and died - were those a part of this life? He ran his free, rough hewn, hand - was this even his original hand - over his face. His breath in soft tatters. Birthdays in the past had been busy, world’s were ending, people were dying, but now here he was. Still. Everything was...okay. It was, there was no crisis at hand. Just busywork, clean up jobs, every day tasks that called people away.

Hell he wasn’t even sure if Sam and Eileen were even on a hunt, maybe they’d just taken a weekend away to breathe. It had to be nice, having someone to breathe with. Having a life with someone.

All Dean had was a life unworthy of any fanfare. Unworthy of a text from Jack or Sam or....

The lump was back this time decidedly higher, threatened to cut off his air and made the backs of his eyes burn.

More bourbon, definitely...definitely more bourbon.

But even the bright burn of warming liquor didn’t stop the way the room was beginning to melt. Or the warm trails that had begun to fall down his face. Was it even his face? He’d only been born to be a fucking meatsuit for an angel. Fucking angels, fucking destiny and fate and -

The sob that ripped out of him breaks the silence, and for a long time there is only unsteady, heaving, gasping breaths. They fill up the room, and go on for long enough that the bourbon is on his bedside table and both hands are holding his face. It is his, no matter who’s inhabited it, how many times it has died, this is his. He is his.

He only belongs to himself.

He’s always belonged to himself, an island of one. Everyone always leaves, Sam included. Hell Sam’s got a life of his own, and is happy. He’s got the hunter network running as nicely as Baby’s engine. And Dean?

Dean’s got a splotchy face long after his tears slow to a stop. He’s in the midst of taking a shuddering, wet breath, when off in the distance there’s the sound of a door shutting.

Every muscle in his body tenses, his hand half reached under his pillow for the gun stashed there, before he can rationalize to his foggy brain it’s just some hunter, probably. He listens, ears straining, as distantly familiar footsteps draw nearer. The tears have dried on his face, the skin stiff and uncomfortable, but he barely dares to breathe let alone move.

A shadow pauses before his door, as it stealing itself, before the sound of a doorknob and

“Oh,” Cas’ face slowly comes into focus.

Cas’ face...Dean stands too quickly and mostly falls off of his bed. He catches himself with one arm, staring wide-eyed as Cas comes closer. As Cas’ warm, familiar, hands rest on his shoulder. As Cas’ impossibly blue eyes look over his face with concern. “Dean,” and that’s definitely Cas’ voice. Deep and rough like tires over gravel and Dean can feel the threat of tears returning as he shakes his head.

Because it can’t be Cas.

“You’re dead,” the words take far too much effort to form. The not-Cas-Cas’ face crumples, softens, looks at him in that makes the tears come out harder. “Christ I need to stop drinking,” he pulls shaking hands to press into his eyes, willing whatever drunken vision away. But the warm weight of a second hand comes to cup his face, and the sound of fabric crinkling and knees resting on concrete are enough to tell him the not-Cas-Cas isn’t going away anywhere soon.

The soft motion of a thumb across his cheek is enough to ease some of the tension away, and maybe he can just pretend. No one else is around, he can be allowed this? A drunken dream, too good to be true, and lets his head rest heavier on the palm there. His hands falling from his eyes to rest between his legs.

“You could’ve had me,” the words are so quiet, “I wish you would’ve.” How many times has he admitted these words in his dreams? In prayers that went unanswered? “Too fucking chicken shit to ever do anything, too afraid I’d fuck it up,” the words spill out of him faster and faster. “One good thing, the one good thing this life gave to me was you, but I know me, I fuck everything up. I don’t know how to keep people, only how to push ‘em away and I couldn’t....”

Couldn’t lose Cas like that, in a permanent way, but he did anyways. In the end silence wasn’t salvation, it was just as damning as any words could’ve been.

“Dean,” and that’s enough to draw his eyes back open. And there’s Cas, as he should be, weary, wary, with that softest trace of hope. “I-I knew,” but the words halt and he can see the way the muscles in this vision of Cas clench. The way blue eyes shift around for a moment, searching for the right words to say. In his dream Cas would surge forward and cover him in kisses. Sloppy and sappy and feeling like everything he’d wanted.

This Cas seems uncertain, “I could feel the way you felt, but you’re so-so complex. I didn’t wish to assume, didn’t want to...hope.” Each words feels like it’s been pulled, painfully, from some deep place. “Dean, please,” and the hand on his cheek tilting his face upwards. “Look at me,” blue eyes pleading as much as the words.

Taking in a steadying breath Dean does, and all he sees is Cas. The open longing and desperation on his face. “Jack,” the words drift over Dean like warm waves, “brought me back from the empty. I wasn’t right, but your prayers...they helped. Jack, Mary, Charlie even they helped me. I would have come back sooner, but -”

Whatever further words Cas might’ve said were muffled as Dean surged forward, arms wrapping around the familiar expanse of the angels back. Hands soothed down his back, a face pressing into his hair, and surely there are words being spoken but Dean can’t hear them. All he can hear is the thud of two pulses, their bodies melded together as close as they can be. A warmth, completely unrelated to the alcohol, surges through his body.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Cas’ voice finally breaks through, “I used my grace to sober you. I wanted you to see this wasn’t,” but again words are interrupted. This time by a suddenly, blisteringly, sober Dean leaning and pressing his lips against Cas’ stupid, eternally, chapped ones.

The sag of relief brings Cas somehow closer to him, and they sit there, Cas knelt between Dean’s knees, kissing until they’re out of breath. Until Cas leans back to press his forehead against Dean’s, both of their breathing uneven and eyes shut. Dean lets his hands slowly drag down from shoulder blade to hips and shifts to rest his head upon one of Cas’ shoulders.

The hand that begins to comb through his hair, soothing away any doubt, any fear. “They kept telling me I could go back when I was ready,” the words break the silence, but Dean doesn’t move and neither does Cas. The only motion is the hand through his hair, “and I never knew.... I didn’t know how to tell when I was ready, but then I remembered.” The hand in his hair pulls slightly, just enough to shift Dean back so Cas can look him full in his face again.

“January 24th, 1979,” the smile on Cas’ face is sun-bright and warms Dean right to his core. “I was given a gift I didn’t fully understand that day, and I figured it would only be fair if...if I returned the gesture.” Cas’ lips are warm against his forehead, lingering for a beat too long before pulling away again. “Happy birthday, Dean, I hope this is the first of many you’ll let me celebrate with you.”

Dean answers the only way he can, by pressing another kiss against Cas’ lips, and pulling him closer.

#spnfic #destielfic #destiel fic #supernaturalfic #destiel #spn #my writing #i decided to finish this ficlet from last month too.#posting this does mean though that i officially need to get over myself and post ch2 to guiding light. next...next weekend let's aim for tha #*that.#long post

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heyyyharry · 4 years ago

Text

Till Death (a Halloween one shot)

…in which Y/N and Harry share a flat but he cannot see her.

Warning: DEATH, MENTAL ILLNESS, MENTION OF SU1C1DE AND SELF-HARM (inexplicit). There's a happy ending tho 😬

Inspired by Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride and this song.

Word count: 3.9k

“Oh, you’re home!” she said as he shut the door and kicked off his shoes. His hair was a mess, his eyes dark and weary. He leaned against the wall and released a long heavy sigh.

“Trouble at work?” she asked. He didn’t answer. He never did. But it was okay. She was used to it.

She watched him trudge toward the couch and slump into it with his head buried in his hands. It was so quiet. It was always quiet here, and most of the time, she enjoyed the silence. After all, it was all she ever knew. But she also liked his laugh and his voice when he talked on the phone. He never talked to her. He was a great listener though, and she liked to talk anyway, so she had nothing to complain about. He never interrupted her, never commented; he only listened.

He rested his head on the couch with an arm over his closed eyes. She sat down beside him, her legs together, her hands on her knees.

“Guess what I did today,” she said.

He let go another long breath.

Silence.

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell ya.” She rolled her eyes, suppressing a grin. “I made a new friend. A bird. I saw him on our balcony this morning. I named him Steve. Can you imagine? A bird named Steve. I think Steve likes me as much as a bird could like someone–”

“Oh, shit!”

She flinched as he jumped to his feet.

“Where are you going?” she asked, slightly worried.

“Shit, I forgot,” he murmured, shoving his fingers into his already unruly hair as he reached for his phone on the coffee table. He sat back down and unlocked the screen. His handsome face was illuminated as he typed something into the chat. She rested her head on his shoulder and stole a glance at the screen, just enough to see who he was texting.

It was that name again.

She’d seen him text this person every day for the last couple of weeks. She didn’t know who they were or what they looked like or if they were male or female. All she knew was that they always got Harry’s full attention.

She thought it’d be rude to read other people’s texts, so she never did even though he would never stop her. Still, it didn’t mean she wasn’t dying to know what they said to each other. She would watch Harry as he talked to the person either on the phone or through texts. And he would always look so happy whenever a notification came and he saw the person’s name.

She bet they talked about more interesting topics, not just birds with human names. That thought alone gave a throbbing feeling in her hollow chest.

Sometimes, when she was with him, she forgot about its absence, which was good, because she wanted to forget.

But whenever she saw his eyes sparkle as he talked to this person, she would remember that there was somebody else out there with that thing in their chest, somebody he could feel and see and hear…

...and love.

Then she would remember what he was, what she was, and what they could never be.

After all, she was dead.

She didn’t remember how long she’d been dead. She only knew that she’d been alone for too long. Time didn’t really matter when you stopped growing older. She was stuck like this. Forever 21, as she would joke to herself. She didn’t know how old Harry was, but he had a job that stressed him out every day, so she assumed he was older than she’d been when she’d died.

She’d been trapped in this flat ever since. She’d watched people move her stuff out and other people move their stuff in. She’d forgotten about her loved ones or if she’d ever had them in the first place. She didn’t have any recollection of the life she’d had. She couldn’t even attend her own funeral. If she’d known that she’d be stuck in the place where she’d died, she would have probably not chosen to die here. She missed being outdoors, seeing new people. She wondered if she’d still be in love with Harry if he weren’t the only person she knew.

Honestly, she had never been in love when she’d been alive. She knew that, because even though the memories ceased to exist, she still would have remembered what being in love had felt like. It was funny, actually. When she’d had a heart, she hadn’t been able to use it, and now that she didn’t, she could feel it every day. Could someone love without having a heart? She didn’t know what love felt like to be sure that this was love, yet she knew that she’d rather spend an eternity with this man than to reincarnate into someone else.

They’d been living together for two years. Before him, there had been an elderly couple and a family of four. They’d been fun and lovely. But Harry was...different.

He was alone like her. She felt a deep connection with him in that way, as it was rare to find a person who appreciated isolation and not let it drive them insane. Almost everyone was terrified of being alone. Harry, however, found comfort in being alone. He always knew how to entertain himself. He read books. He sang in the shower. He cooked dinner for himself. He’d call his family to tell them about his day.

Sometimes, as she watched him talk to his mum and sister, she wished she remembered her own family. Would she still want to be alone if she remembered them? Well, she didn’t want to be alone now that she had him. It scared her sometimes. An attachment was a scary thing when you knew that you’d forever be temporary to the people around you. Like the elderly couple and the family, one day, Harry would leave, and she’d have to get used to new flatmates who would most likely leave again.

But that was for the future. Right now, what they had was enough.

“I’m seeing someone,” Harry said one day.

Y/N didn’t want to eavesdrop, but she was sitting by the window talking to Steve while Harry was on the phone with his sister. It was the first time Y/N heard him say the person’s name. He was smiling the entire time as he talked about her. Y/N loved seeing Harry smile, so it didn’t matter what made him smile. She just wanted to see him happy.

He told his sister that the woman he was seeing was coming over tonight. He seemed excited. Harry had only ever looked this excited except for when his favourite show came on. That was how she knew he loved this woman as much as he loved that show, which was a lot.

“Can I join you guys tonight?” Y/N asked him when he ended the phone call.

He put his phone back down and looked right at her. If she had a heart, it would combust right then and there. But what she didn’t expect was him marching towards her, thrusting his hand right through her chest and shutting the window. Steve flew away. Harry turned and left.

The place where his hand had been burned with its absence, leaving her frozen as she watched the bedroom door fall shut. He couldn’t feel her, but she could feel much more than a dead person was allowed to feel.

Dinner was nice.

And so was the other woman.

It was funny how Y/N would refer to her as ‘the other woman’ when she’d been the one getting all Harry’s attention. She was sweet, blond-haired, great smile. She sat at Y/N’s spot at dinner. Y/N didn’t mind as she wasn’t eating anyway, yet it saddened her that she didn’t get to tell Harry her boring stories; the other woman was doing most of the talking.

Harry listened to her and laughed at her jokes. He never responded to Y/N that way. She’d been fine with it before, but seeing how he interacted with someone else made her want to vanish into thin air.

It was the first time in two years that she’d seen another living person beside Harry, and yet she had never felt lonelier.

After dinner, Harry asked if the woman wanted to spend the night and she said yes, so Y/N retreated to her spot – the bathroom. For some strange reason, she found comfort there. She would just get into the empty tub and lie there until morning.

Before Harry had moved in, she’d stayed in the bathroom at night while the living were asleep. Since Harry, she would usually spend the night outside his room. He’d always sleep with the door open and a lot of pillows. She didn’t want to be intrusive, but she’d heard him crying one night. His stepdad had just passed away and she’d stayed with him to keep him company, even though he hadn’t been aware of her presence.

She’d sat beside him on the bed as he’d cried. She’d told him that dead didn’t mean gone, that his stepdad might still be around, or have gone to heaven to get a new better life.

To be honest, she didn’t know if heaven existed for she didn’t get to leave this place, but maybe heaven only existed for the ones who deserved it. She was too good for hell, not good enough for heaven, so she was still here.

That night, as she was lying in the tub, gazing at the shadows of objects cast on the ceiling, she couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d seen at dinner. A happy Harry. A truly happy Harry.

She’d always wondered what he looked like when someone made him laugh so hard he forgot about everything else, or when he blushed because of the things someone said to him, or when he looked at someone like they were the only person that mattered. Now that she’d seen it, it felt like torture.

She would never make him laugh. She would never get to hear him call her beautiful or tell her jokes just because he wanted to see her smile. He’d never get to know her. That was the worst part. It hadn’t bothered her before, and now it was too late to undo her feelings for him.

She didn’t have a heart, but as she lay her palms on top of her chest and shut her eyes, she could feel it breaking.

Ever since that night, the other woman would come over very often. It had hurt at first, then Y/N learned to get used to it. It didn’t mean it stopped hurting. She’d still feel invisible tears rolling down her cheeks every time they kissed in front of her. She’d spend most of the day avoiding them. It was hard to do so when she couldn’t leave the flat. She’d tried before. She’d tried to follow Harry outside, but the second she stepped through that door, she was back in the tub.

She was imprisoned in her own home where she felt like a guest. She had no one to talk to, and it had never been a problem before but now it was driving her insane.

Sometimes, she even wished that the other woman was dead. It was bad that love made her blind and envy made her cruel. Whenever that malicious thought crossed her mind, though, she’d think about Harry and instantly felt bad about wanting his girlfriend dead. It wasn’t a nice thing to wish onto anyone, especially when Y/N herself knew how overrated death was.

It wasn’t a solution. Just more problems.

And at the end of the day, it shouldn’t matter if she was hurt. After all, she was dead. Dead people couldn’t feel pain. This was just an illusion. Her pain wasn’t real. If Harry lost someone he loved, that would be real. And she’d take all the hurt just to keep him happy. Always.

Tonight, Harry came home alone.

She asked him what was wrong, knowing he wouldn’t answer. He went straight to the couch and buried his face into his hands. She wondered if he’d forgotten to take his pills again. She’d call them his happy pills. He’d been taking them for a couple of months now. He was always so sad and numb without them. Lately, it seemed like he hadn’t been taking them.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s on your mind,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

Silence sank in. The heaviness in her hollow chest became too much to bear.

Then, his shoulders began to shake.

He started crying.

She’d seen him cry before, but this time she could feel everything he was feeling. And it was even worse for her because she could not do anything about it. When a person cried, they’d feel better afterwards. There was no better for the dead. Just forever numbness. Forever pain. Maybe she hadn’t gone to hell because this was her hell. What had she done to deserve this?

Whatever. This wasn’t about her.

She wished she could wipe away Harry’s tears and tell him things that’d make him feel better. She felt powerless. There was nothing she could do to help.

She sat and watched him cry for what seemed like forever. When he finally stopped, he took out his phone and texted the other woman.

This time, Y/N read.

They’d broken up. The messages didn’t say why. All Y/N knew was that Harry was madly in love with the other woman. He’d sent so many messages asking her to stay, telling her he couldn’t live without her. And she never responded to a single one.

“Harry…” Y/N murmured.

Harry shook his head gently as if he’d heard it. Then, he got to his feet and padded to the bedroom. The door fell shut, leaving Y/N with the uncomfortable silence that could smother her.

She started pacing back and forth outside his bedroom. Her head swam with half-formed regrets. She wished she’d done something to stop him from getting to know the other woman and falling in love with her. But what could she have possibly done? She was dead. She was a ghost, floating around, haunting this place. She couldn’t keep two living people from falling in love. She couldn’t stop the woman from breaking Harry’s heart.

But that was one thing about not having a heart, you’d hurt twice as much trying to protect a heart that wasn’t your own.

Something crashed.

Glass shattered.

The world stilled for a second as Y/N burst into the bedroom.

There he was. Staring right back at her.

But there was also him. On the floor. The real him.

Those weren’t his happy pills.

“Harry!” she screamed and rushed towards the Harry on the floor. His ghost stood there watching in silence as she tried to wake him. She couldn’t touch him. She could only scream and if he’d never listened before, he wasn’t listening now. “Harry, please wake up...Please wake up…”

She lay her palm on his chest. He wasn’t dead. She could still feel his heart beating. His skin pale and his breathing slowed. Half of him was still fighting to live and as long as the other half didn’t overpower him, he might be saved.

“Who are you?” asked the ghost standing beside her.

She looked up. The other Harry was looking right at her, not through her. This one could see her.

“I’m Y/N,” she said, still in shock.

“Y/N,” he echoed.

She’d heard him tell the other woman that he would repeat a person’s name so he wouldn’t forget it. He could hear Y/N, see her and now he knew her name. Her invisible heart swelled for a second, but then she could feel it, the beating of that living thing under his chest. He was still half-alive. But he wouldn’t be for too long.

“You must hold on,” she told his ghost, panting heavily as she started freaking out. “You can’t...you can’t die...you must...I don’t know....get back into your body before it’s too late.”

“I don’t know how, and I don’t want to,” he said, staring at himself, and then at her. She didn’t like the look he was giving her. It was as if she was an exotic animal and he was a curious child going to the zoo for the first time. “Are you a ghost?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, rising to her feet, trying to avoid his gaze. “I-I died here…”

Silence.

“How long have you been here?”

She shook her head. “I don’t remember. When you’re dead, your memories start to fade. Now I don’t remember anything from when I was alive.”

“So there’s no afterlife?” Harry asked, his voice breaking a little. She looked up and saw him staring at his own body with a pained expression that could be regret. “You just...stay here?”

“I don’t know about the other ghosts, but that’s what it is for me,” she said, rubbing her arms.

“Aren’t you lonely?” he asked.

“Well, not really. I’ve got you.”

Her answer seemed to surprise him. He blinked. “But I couldn’t see you or talk to you.”

She raised a soft smile. “But I could see you and talk to you. That was enough.” Harry was giving her an expression she could not interpret, so she hurriedly went on, “Believe me. Death is overrated. You don’t want it.”

“But what if I do? I lost my job and someone I loved. I have struggled every day for the past few months, so why bother?”

“So you think it’s easy for me?” she asked. “I don’t have a heart, yet I still feel things and I can’t cry and the feelings won’t go away. They’ll still be here when everyone else leaves. Dead doesn’t mean gone but it’s the end of second chances. I’ll never get to celebrate my twenty-second birthday. I’ll never get to graduate. I don’t remember my family or if I ever had one. I don’t get to make friends. I don’t...don’t get to be loved…

“And if that doesn’t sound bad to you, just think about all the people you’d leave behind. Your mum, your sister. You won’t remember them but they’ll remember you. And they’ll have to carry the pain of losing you until it happens to them. I didn’t get to see them one last time because...if I tried to leave this flat, I’d just...just keep coming back here. I’d never get to apologise to them for abandoning them. I regret it every single day. And I don’t want it to happen to you.”

The Harry in front of her was quiet for a moment. The Harry on the floor was struggling to breathe.

“If I die,” he spoke, his eyes meeting hers, “you won’t be lonely anymore. Why are you trying to talk me out of it?”

She took a moment to think. Then, “Because I love you.”

His eyes widened as he parted his lips. He didn’t believe it. For the first time, Y/N could see herself in him. She wouldn’t believe it if someone told her they loved her, either. She thought she couldn’t be loved. That was why she’d chosen the easier way out. It wasn’t easy; she knew that now. So she wasn’t going to let him make the same mistake.

“You think no one cares, but I do,” she said, reaching for his hand. She held it, lacing her fingers with his. “So please hold on. If you fully give up, you cannot be saved.”

He looked at himself and then back at her. “Where did you die?”

A pause.

“The bathroom.”

Sadness set over his features. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, smiling. “I’ve never been better than I am now.”

“Harry!” shouted a female voice as the front door burst open suddenly and frantic footsteps rushed into the room.

The moment Harry saw the woman he loved, hope lit up his entire face. The woman screamed as she collapsed by his body and pulled out her phone to call an ambulance. She kissed his face and told him how much she loved him, that she was sorry, that she’d take back all the things she’d said, that she wanted to spend many more years with him.

Y/N felt herself losing grip of the other Harry. He started to fade. She tried to hold onto him, but it was no use.

And before he was completely gone, he smiled at her and said, “Thank you.” And she thanked him, too. For seeing her. And not giving up.

Harry didn’t remember anything when he came back from the hospital. He got back together with his girlfriend, who finally moved in with him. They lasted for two years and their relationship ended on good terms. After that, Harry, now with the job that he loved, started seeing other people and stopped taking his happy pills. He’d got better. He was happy all the time. He didn’t remember his conversation with Y/N, but sometimes she’d catch him staring at the bathtub. She’d pretend that he could see her and she’d smile and wave. Maybe he could, but he didn’t want to freak her out. Who knew?

He moved out of the flat after a few more years. The last night he was there, she’d lay on the floor beside his bed as he slept.

The ones after him were fun. Y/N liked meeting new people. One couple even had a pet and she finally had someone to talk to. Still, sometimes she would think about Harry and wondered what he might be doing now.

One night, while lying in the tub, she discovered a tiny word someone had written on the bathroom wall.

Hello.

She’d been here long enough to know that it hadn’t always been there. She recognised that handwriting. Though she wished she’d found it sooner, it made her happy as she traced her fingers over it and imagined him thinking of her.

Y/N didn’t know how much time had passed.

But Harry did return.

When he came in, she almost didn’t recognise him. He was an old man in a wheelchair. She’d overheard him talking to his caretaker that he wanted to spend his last days in this flat. He stayed in bed for that whole first week and she’d lie beside his bed and talk to him each night.

He died of old age.

One night, he went to the bathroom and lay down in the tub and fell asleep and never woke up.

She stood in the doorway, watching him.

Then, she felt a tap on her shoulder. When she turned, she saw the same Harry who was young and handsome and wearing the same clothes as the day he’d first seen her.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” she said.

Apparently, when you died, you got to choose the age you wanted to be. She’d chosen to be twenty-one, the age she’d died. Harry had chosen to be twenty-four, the age he’d met the ghost girl who had saved his life.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #alliengn

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dameronology · 4 years ago

Text

asystole {obi-wan kenobi x reader}

summary: ‘the trouble is the way you stick, to any part of me that remains in tact/but if i pull the plug, it isn’t only me i’m holding back’ - asystole, hayley williams (a.k.a ‘the one where you’re the bane of obi-wan’s life, even as a force ghost’)

warnings: mentions of death, swearing, angst, and me not having a single fucking clue how force ghosts work

this was originally based on a random idea i had and also encouragement from kara/@hellotherekenobi who requested a prompt that i completely forgot to include but...we move. also, i would highly highly recommend listening to the above song just because it’s a real tear jerker and i lOVE it

enjoy

- jazz

Loss, for Obi-Wan, was not a stranger. It was an old acquaintance, constantly lingering beside him -- not quite there, but not gone either. He could always feel its presence, a constant and painful reminder of everyone he’d lost. He could probably count them all one hand but that didn’t make it any better. Loss was loss, whether it were two people or ten. Even if his grief had stopped and started with the passing of his master all those years ago, it was still something he felt in its wholeness and in its entirety. Because that’s all Obi-Wan could do: feel. It was everything or nothing. Zero percent or one hundred.

And with you, he wished it were nothing. He wished that your sudden absence from his life was something he didn’t have to feel in every fibre of his being. It was hard enough to acknowledge and even more painful to comprehend. You were the one person he’d always just assumed would be there forever. How foolish it now seemed, he was very much aware. Everybody died -- Qui-Gon Jinn was a testament to that; as was Satine Kryze and quite literally every other person in the galaxy who’d had the pleasure of being reminded of their mortality. It was just that this was...it was you. You weren’t immortal by any means but maker, you had acted like it. The way you went about life with an air of recklessness and discontent for the rules, making even the hardest of missions into an adventure. His life had been a thousand times better since you’d come running - nay, stumbling - into it. You’d blown his entire world to bits and pieced it back together with tiny, intricate bits of yours. Filled it with chaos and laughter and a light he hadn’t felt since the days of his youth.

Perhaps most importantly, you’d looked after one another. He would stay by your side 24/7 to make sure you kept your head screwed on your shoulders, and you would pester him to drink water and remember to eat. He would remind you when you had important missions and meetings, and in return, you’d proof-read his paper work. He remembered the first time he’d fallen asleep beside you, to wake up with a blanket wrapped around him and his boots pulled off. It was so clear in his head because it was the first time someone had ever done anything for him without asking. It became something you did often, and though he never said it, it was something he kept so close to his heart.

Obi-Wan wasn’t a fool. He knew you weren’t going to be around forever - he just didn’t realise that not forever was going to be a whole lot sooner that he’d anticipated. He used to make jokes about how your recklessness would one day lead to your demise. The idea of it made him feel sick now. He’d been right the entire time. He didn’t want it to be real.

None of it felt real. The whole conversation he’d had with Mace Windu about you not making it felt like a distant nightmare, something he’d tried so hard to wake up from, only to find that he was wide awake the entire fucking time. Night terrors were bad, but reality was arguably worse.

It didn’t feel right at first, to see your chambers still filled with your stuff and your lightsaber still resting on your nightstand. Obi had been the one to put it there when you’d been taken to the infirmary, thinking you would have asked for it when you woke up - but you didn’t. It went hand-in-hand with the robes he’d hung up on your door and the get well soon, moron card he’d brought you.

Then, they emptied your room. Took your clothes and your books and every other worldly possession you had. Your name was removed from the door to your quarters and added to the list of Jedi who had died in combat on the stone in the Temple gardens. Aside from that, any sign that you had ever walked the halls or burst into council meetings at the last minute was gone. You lived on only in his memories, your lopsided smile ingrained into his mind and contagious laugh echoing constantly in his brain.

Throwing himself into work was the only option for Obi-Wan. He already took on a thousand things at once, but without you to help bare the weight, it became a million. If he was busy, he didn’t have time to think -- about you, or how fucking fragile everything was, or about all the ways he could have saved you. You’d slipped through his fingers, even when he’d be holding on so tightly. It wasn’t his fault. It was just...life.

A few weeks passed, and Obi-Wan continued to push himself. Everybody noticed it -- how suddenly busy he was, how quiet he’d become, how tired he looks. Blue eyes had grown exhausted with grief and regret, strawberry blonde hair becoming longer and unrulier than was characteristic for him. When you’d died, you’d taken a tiny piece of him with you. An important part. Maybe that part had been you.

It was on a cold Tuesday evening that he heard the four words. Sat out on the balcony of his quarters, watching Coruscant and life pass by in a blur ahead of him, a tangle of traffic and noise and a million sounds that he couldn’t quite decipher. The sky was a navy blue, cast with the tiny little glints and dots of distant planets. All worlds that you’d once promised to explore

‘You look like shit.’

He thought he’d imagined it at first. In fact, it wouldn’t have been the first time in the last few weeks that the sound of your voice in his head had felt clear enough to be real. Imagining things - hallucinations and echoes of the long gone - was simply part of the grieving process. A process he’d gone through countless times before.

The sudden appearance of you in the corner of his eye jolted him like an electric shock. Perhaps not that far off of the emotional equivalent of being hit by a bus. Or a light freighter. Or...all of those things at once.

You were ethereal. When he’d last seen you, you’d been...tired. Now, you were smiling and radiating some sort of energy that could only be described as quintessentially you. There was not a chance in hell that a grief-induced hallucination could be so life-like, so crystal clear. Plus, why would he have imagined you like this, slightly transparent and with a blue glow surrounding you? A fitting colour for your final form, he figured.

‘Shocked to see me?’ Your drawl continued. ‘Because if you think you’re shocked, let me tell you. One second I was napping and the next I was a fucking Force ghost. Could you imagine?’

Obi-Wan smiled softly. ‘I don’t think I could.’

‘I can float through walls, though.’ You grinned. ‘How cool is that?’

‘It’s...that’s very cool.’ He replied. ‘I don’t suppose you can hug Force ghosts?’

Obi-Wan reached his palm out towards you - slowly but surely, as though he were scared you were going to fade away all over again if he touched you. You mimicked his actions, faded blue fingertips just moments away from his. When they finally touched, they didn’t. You felt nothing. He felt a rush of cold, as though somebody had poured a bucket of cold water over him.

He didn’t fully understand the concept of Force ghosts. Studied them, sure. Understood them? Not quite. There weren’t enough Jedi texts in the galaxy to fully capture the complexity of what made somebody come back. Often, they were linked to acts of heroism, or stemming from action taken when the person was still alive. That didn’t seem like you though. You weren’t the sort of person to try to fiddle with jinxes and hijinkery that would allow you to come back once you were dead - at least not purposefully. There was certainly every chance you did it accidentally.

‘Guess not.’ You murmured. ‘Sorry ‘bout that.’

The icy feeling only grew closer as you took a seat beside him. It was funny, because he thought that if he’d had the chance to reunite with you, that it would have been more emotional than this. Something filled with more feeling and grandeur. Instead, you’d just appeared, and acted as though you’d never been gone in the first place. Obi-Wan preferred it that way.

‘I’ve missed you.’ He continued to stare blankly ahead.

When you died, there were a thousand things he’d come up with that he’d wished he’d said. They ranged from comments about the weather to grand declarations of...how much you meant to him. All things he would never dare say to your face, and that’s probably why he came up with them. Because he would never get the chance to say them. And now, here you were, right beside him, and he had a second opportunity to get that closure -- but the words didn’t quite come. They stayed on the tip of his tongue, there, but not quite there. Even if this wasn’t quite the version of you that he imagined himself telling them to, it was still undeniably you.

‘I should hope so.’ You tried to nudge him with your elbow, but it was just another icy jab. ‘I would say that I missed you too, but I don’t know where I’ve been.’

‘What happened between then and now?’ Obi asked. ‘Between that and this?’

‘Okay, first of all - you can say my death. Coming up with a thousand other words for it won’t undo it.’ You said. ‘And...I don’t know. I just remember blaster fire, then some darkness, and then I was here.’

‘Did it hurt?’

‘Well it didn’t tickle.’ You replied ‘It was quick, if that’s any comfort.’

‘I suppose it is.’ He murmured.

‘You’re being uncharacteristically quiet.’ You observed. ‘I can go away if you want. I’m not sure how this whole thing works but if you want me to leave, I can go and scare Dex-’

‘- that’s the last thing I want.’ He cut you off. ‘I just..I’ve spent the last few weeks trying not to acknowledge that you’re truly gone and it’s a little hard to do that when you’re quite literally a ghost.’

‘I’m not really gone though, am I?’ You said. ‘I’m still here. Not as I’d like to be, but I’m here.’

‘So as long as you’re around to irritate me and make snide comments, you’re here.’ He smiled. ‘Whether that’s in the flesh or...in the blue.’

‘I’m sorry it happened.’ You gently sighed. ‘Not sorry that I died for the greater good but sorry it was so..sudden.’

‘It’s not your fault.’ He wanted to reach across, to take your hand in his or run it down your arm - but he couldn’t. He couldn’t deal with another rush of cold in place of what used to be warm flesh. ‘It was still undeniably your most half-witted decision to date but you saved a lot of people, so I won’t hold it against you.’

‘Oh, how kind.’ You snorted. ‘I bet you’ve secretly enjoyed the peace and quiet, Kenobi.’

‘I miss it already.’

Obi-Wan woke up the next morning, still on the balcony. The air was cold -- as evidenced by his violent shivers -- and the sky had changed from navy, to a turquoise-tainted pink. The city below was moderately quiet, signalling that it was still pretty early. The only sounds were coming from traffic in the distance and the occasional whoosh of a passing jet in the sky above. He stayed like that for a moment, azure eyes clouded with some kind of apprehension as he watched the clouds slowly pass, not a care in the world for the fact it was fucking freezing.

Last night had been real, even if there was no sign of your presence. Actually, that wasn’t quite true -- the robes he’d discarded before your appearance had been thrown over him like a blanket. They did little to protect him from the cold air, but it was a confirmation that you had been there. He wasn’t sure when you’d left - or how - but he was the only one on the balcony.

There were a lot of questions floating about in his head. Why were you only turning up now after weeks? Why had you materialised by him? Why were you here at all? You were finally free, free to do literally whatever you wanted, and you’d wound up by his side. There were millions and millions of places in the galaxy and somehow, his balcony was the one where you’d wanted to be.

After showering and shaving, Obi-Wan found himself heading towards the classroom of the best Jedi he knew: Yoda. If anyone was going to know anything about Force ghosts, it was him. He’d have to make sure not to let slip exactly what he was talking about - your relationship with him was far more attached than the code allowed, after all - in a more general sense, he must have had something to offer. It wasn’t the kind of thing they taught in Jedi training. If anything, it was the opposite. The lesson was don’t become attached enough to someone so that they haunt you! - and it was one at which he’d failed quite miserably.

‘Master Kenobi.’ Yoda sat in the middle of the classroom, meditating. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know who it was. ‘Of assistance, may I be?’

‘Good morning.’ Obi-Wan greeted him with a bow. ‘I have some questions, and I was hoping you might be able to help me.’

‘Do go on. Help, I might be able to.’

‘Right.’ He cleared his throat, awkwardly taking a seat beside him. ‘What do you know about Force ghosts?’

‘Lots. Specific, you must be.’

‘Say you had a dear friend, and they died.’ He began. ‘Then they came back a little while as a Force ghost.’

‘Come back, they don’t.’ Yoda opened one eye, glancing over at him. ‘Never gone, they were. The Force takes time to manifest.’

‘So...the ghost version of them is still them?’

‘Very much so.’ He said. ‘Why, there are many reasons. Many Jedi study for a long time to materialise as ghosts after passing.’

‘What if they didn’t?’

‘Then unfinished business, they have.’ He replied. ‘When a Jedi dies, their Force connections do too. If they are left unbroken, exist as a ghost they will.’

Well, that explained it.

‘Right.’ He murmured. ‘Last question, I promise - how long does that connection usually last?’

‘Months to years, it may be.’ He explained. ‘On their unfinished business, the connection depends.’

‘That makes sense.’ Obi-Wan nodded. ‘Thank you, Master Yoda.’

The little green creature simply nodded in response, turning his attention back to his meditation. He didn’t ask questions -- what was the point? He’d been around hundreds of years, and dealt with hundreds of similar things in that time. Truth be told, he didn’t have all the answers. He was just good at acting like it.

Obi-Wan pondered on the conversation for the rest of the day.

There were a lot of things that could have constituted your unfinished business. The list was endless, especially given how suddenly you’d passed. Nobody knew you better than Obi-Wan, but even he struggled to decipher it. You weren’t the sort of person who would hang around for no good reason. It had to be something important -- something so pressing that you quite literally couldn’t pass away in its entirety without dealing with it. Part of him was worried that he didn’t know at all; you were always sneaking about, always doing something that you shouldn’t have been. That left a long list of possibilities.

But Yoda had directly mentioned Force connections, right? Maybe he’d meant it in a general way, but Obi would have been a complete dumb-ass to think that the Jedi didn’t know what was going on. If the situation didn’t tell him, his seeming ability to know everything about everyone certainly would have. You were the only person he could have possibly been talking about.

It was something he knew he had to bring up, and so he made the mental promise to himself. The best time would have been that night, when he saw you again. If he saw you again. He trusted you to return. You knew better now than to disappear forever without saying goodbye.

And he’d been right. That evening, after he’d exchanged goodbyes with Anakin, Obi-Wan found himself wandering out to the balcony. Sure enough, you were leant against the railings, back turned to him as you peered down at the city below. The air was cold again -- maybe because it was Winter, but also maybe because of you -- and the harsh winds blew back your hair. He wanted to reach out and feel it, to feel you, but he couldn’t. A man whose love language was physical touch was sure to suffer when the person he wanted most was a fucking entity.

‘You’re late.’ You glanced over your shoulder at him. ‘Don’t your meetings normally end at six?’

‘Anakin wanted to talk about something.’ He replied. ‘So is this your life now? Waiting for me to come home?’

You snorted. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve been at the diner all day moving stuff around to confuse Dex.’

‘That’s mean.’

‘And what would you do if you were a Force ghost?’

Wait for you. Follow you.

‘Explore.’ He lied, leaning against the balcony beside you. ‘I spoke to Yoda today about...this.’

‘Mmm?’

‘He said that people who usually come back either purposefully prepared for it when they were still alive.’

‘Or?’

‘How do you know there’s an or?’

‘Because I sometimes struggled to turn on my lightsaber. You think I’m skilled enough to do this shit on purpose, Kenobi?’

‘You’re…’ brilliantly intelligent, easily the smartest person I know, ‘...clever. Don’t put yourself down.’

‘Just cut to the point.’

‘Right.’ Obi-Wan cleared his throat. ‘He said that, or that they had unfinished business. Force connections still strong enough to keep them here.’

‘So, you and me?’

‘What?’

‘Our Force connection.’ You said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘You do know what we have one, right?’

‘I...I figured we were always just...close.’

‘No, you dipshit.’ You shook your head with a laugh. ‘They can develop between best friends. It’s a little rare, but we’re both so strong with the Force that it just happens naturally.’

‘That makes sense.’ he turned to look out at the city. ‘I didn’t really have a best friend before you.’

You looked over at him, a smile playing on your lips. ‘Yeah, me neither.’

Obi-Wan quickly fell into a routine, post-you. Not post-you completely, because he still saw you every evening, but that had helped push him towards the transition. He adjusted to only seeing you after work - not in the mornings or during the day or every waking second like it used to be. Nothing was how it used to be. Not even close. You were no longer beside him during meets or climbing into bed next to him when you had nightmares. There were no more missions with you or late nights filled with paperwork and laughter.

That was the problem.

You were here, but you weren’t really. The ghost he saw every night had your eyes and your laugh and your personality, but it wasn’t really you. Obi-Wan couldn’t touch you; he couldn’t feel you in the same way he used to. It was like having a conversation with a figment of his imagination -- conversations of false hope and plans that would never come to fruition. Because you could banter and you could laugh and you act like things weren’t completely fucking different, but they were. You were a ghost. A ghost of yourself, a ghost of the past, a ghost of what used to be.

It had helped the pain at first. Eased the dread of knowing that you weren’t ever going to be back, not properly. Obi-Wan had appreciated that. It made grieving a lot easier when you were technically still there to tease and jester him through the process. Knowing that his friendship was the reason you couldn’t fully let go of existing had both made it better and worse. Better, because it meant you cared for him as deeply as he did for you. Worse, because it was so open-ended. At what point would you be satisfied enough to finally let go? Would he get to say goodbye, or would you just be here forever?

That was the problem, Obi-Wan had come to find.

He was hopelessly in love with you - though that much was obvious - and he couldn’t deal with only having some of you. He wanted all of you, or he wanted none of you. Only being able to talk to a blue apparition of you just wasn’t enough. It was just a constant reminder that the person he loved most in the universe was gone, and that he’d never fully have you. He was kicking himself for that one. What if he’d said something to you when you were still alive? Declared his love for when he could still physically reach out to you?

That was the thought plaguing his mind every night. With you beside him, a cold aura radiating towards him as you sat with your legs hugged to your chest. It had been a few weeks since your first appearance, and your nights together ranged from deep conversations to comfortable silence. The latter was always worse, because Obi-Wan constantly found himself teetering on the edge of saying something. It was hard, because despite everything, he found you to be more enchanting and peaceful than ever. More entrancing.

‘Can I tell you something?’ He asked.

‘Sure thing.’ You peered over at him. ‘You look worried. Is it serious?’

He paused for a moment. ‘Depends how you take it, I suppose.’

‘Try me.’

‘There are…’ he faltered again. ‘There are some things I regret not telling you when you were still here.’

‘I am here.’ You reminded him.

‘No, I know that.’ He found himself unable to look at you. ‘I mean when you were here here.’

‘What’s the difference, Obi?’

‘Remember when you used to come to my bedroom at 2AM because you’d had a bad dream?’ He asked. ‘Or when you’d throw yourself into my arms after we’d been separated on long missions?’

‘Yeah.’

He absent-mindedly reached a hand out towards you; it went straight through you, a rush of cold shooting down his arm. ‘I can’t do that anymore.’

‘You can still talk to me.’ You urged. ‘You can still be with me-’

‘- not in the way I want.’ Not in the way I need.

‘What do you mean?’ You gently pushed.

‘You don’t need me to explain it.’ He finally looked at you, blue eyes shrouded with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher.

‘Obi-Wan, what do you think has been keeping me here?’ You asked.

You knew. Of course you fucking knew. Try as he might to be mysterious and suave, but you could read him like a book -- and it was a shock to you that he hadn’t seen your feelings either. They were clear as day to both of you, and yet it had been easier to ignore them for the sake of your friendship, and for the sake of the code. You both always figured that you could deal with them at a later date, because that’s when you’d had a later.

‘Just say it.’ You murmured. ‘Say that you love me too and I’ll go-’

‘- I don’t want you to go.’ He cut you off. ‘Because then you’re gone forever.’

‘And then you can move on.’ You smiled. Neither of you knew that ghosts could cry until now.

This was the closest he would ever get to having you now. He could have just sucked it up and dealt with it, and kept you by his side in your ominous form - but would that have been fair on you? To keep you around, just because he was so full of regret over things unsaid and so full of fear over grieving? None of this was fair, on him or on you.

‘I can’t say it.’ Obi-Wan murmured. ‘Not yet.’

‘It’s okay.’ You gave him a watery smile. ‘I know.’

Neither of you said anything else - maybe you didn’t want to, or maybe you were scared to. The fact you’d finally acknowledged the bantha in the room after years, finally admitting that love had been the driving force behind what made your friendship so good, for so long. The irony was that when you’d died, he’d wanted nothing more than for you to come back in some form. Now, he realised that it was holding him back from moving on -- and he couldn’t do that until he’d let you go. But he couldn’t do that either.

Unbeknownst to Obi-Wan, his words had been a confession. Albeit a thinly veiled one, but a confession nonetheless. It had confirmed to you the only thing you’d wanted to know before you’d passed: that he loved you back. That was all you needed. It was all you’d ever needed.

Eventually, the Jedi beside you grew sleepy. That’s how it usually went every night -- you’d talk, he’d fall asleep beside you, and you’d cover him with a blanket and slip out to wherever it was that Force ghosts went at night. He never asked, for fear of it ruining the mystery. Obi-Wan knew that he wasn’t the only person you saw, but it was a nice thought, and one he didn’t want to taint. At least you took more mercy on him than you did with Dex, who slowly thought he was going insane at all the random objects suddenly being moved around.

When you heard him gently snoring, you stood up. Obi-Wan looked peaceful, as though he’d finally gotten something of his chest - even though he hadn’t realised he’d done it. He hadn’t realised that it had been enough.

You leant down beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. For the first time since you’d appeared, you could finally feel his skin against yours - no cold jolts, no body parts suddenly disappearing through the other. Just your lips against his; warm and...human.

‘Good night, Obi-Wan.’ You ran a hand through his hair, before standing up and stepping back. ‘I love you. I’ll always love you.’

He felt it. He was asleep, but he felt your lips on his and your hand in his hair, and he’d secretly smiled to himself, not entirely realising what was going on. He’d thought it was a dream, or that he was simply imagining that you could finally touch him as though you were a human, and no longer a cold, blue ghost.

Because you weren’t. You were no longer a ghost.

Obi-Wan didn’t realise till he rose the next morning, a blanket tossed over him and the feeling of your lips still lingering on his, even hours later. He even dared to smile for a moment, before the knowledge of what he’d done hit him. He’d given you what you wanted - an unintentional confession of love. The thing you needed to finally cut off your Force connection. The only thing still tethering you to this world.

You were gone, but at least he’d finally gotten what he wanted. You. Even if it was only for a few moments.

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euphoniumpets · 4 years ago

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Why Do You Love Me? | Corpse Husband x Reader

@cxerrycxla requested: Can you do a corpse husband x reader where they have a fight and he tell her to leave

A/N: This one is an angsty one so be prepared for the feels and listen on the Why Do You Love Me by Charlotte Lawrence the Acoustic version! If anyone’s asking where this header is made from, please check out this post. Also, If anyone wants a part two on this fic, please send me in the askbox! 🥰 I made that Corpse and y/n to move into London because Y/n want to be with her older brother more closer who’s Felix.

part two is up now!

Part two

Warnings: Couple fight, angst, swear words, felix being a protective brother and Marzia being a cutie.

You and Corpse never fought against with each other often.

He had mental problems and he was afraid to loose the one he loved.

But one day, he just snapped and he didn’t knew when you would come back to his arms.

The others stared to notice that something was wrong with Corpse. He wasn’t laughing and he was more quiet than he normally was. His fans also noticed that Corpse began to act weird that week.

They knew about your relationship with Corpse. The two of you would often compliment to each other on the social medias. But when some people noticed that you had unfollowed him, they were confused.

He started to blame himself that it was all his fault because of just one fight. But he realized then how much lonley you must’ve been without his presence.

You had moved into Corpse’s apartment before the fight had begun. It was simply because you hanged out in his apartment more than you usually be at yours.

The two of you were happy for a couple of months before the two of you drifted away from each other. You didn’t know how it happened because it seemed that the two of you were so in love with each other that it was impossible to split up.

You took one of the plates from the cabinet. Unknowingly, you took two plates before you stopped yourself as you glanced towards the table. It has been weeks where you tried to get Corpse to eat dinner with you.

He had denied and told you that he wasn’t hungry and that he was busy to edit a video. You knew about his messed up schedule and you just shrugged it away. But sometimes, it was too much and it felt you were lonely.

As you let out a sigh, you placed the plates on the table before you went towards Corpse’s room. ‘’Hey, Babe?’’ You asked him quietly as you opened the door. The light was out and the only thing you saw was Corpse staring at his computer in the darkness.

Corpse let out a hum without he took a glance at you. ‘’It’s dinner time, I was asking you if you wanted some food?’’

‘‘Maybe, later, Ok?’‘ He would respond as his eyes were still locked towards the computer. ‘‘Are you sure?’‘ You asked again hesitantly. He turned around this time as he met your eyes.

He stood up as he approached you. ‘’I’m sure, I will be with you next time but now, I have so much going on right now,’’ He replied as he kissed you on the lips. ‘’Ok,’’ you mumbled as he smiled softly before he turned away as you left his room.

It kept continuing like this. Every time you would come inside his room and you would ask him if he wanted to eat dinner or do other stuff other than playing games and editing his videos. Corpse would awlays shrug it away or he would ignore you whenever you would come into his room.

But this time, he couldn’t and this time, Corpse really lost it.

‘‘Corpse, do you want to-’‘ You were about to say your sentence before he sighed and snapped.

‘‘No, y/n, I don’t fucking want to how many times I have to say that to you to understand?’‘ He snapped as he looked at you angirly before he took of his headphones.

‘‘I’m getting sick of you coming into my room and disturbing my work,’‘ He replied as you looked at him with an offended expression. ‘‘Excuse me? And you don’t know how I’ve been feeling for the past months?’‘ You spat out.

‘‘No, and I don’t care because I’m here working while you’re the one who’s always mothering me,’‘

‘‘What’s that supposed to mean?’‘ You questioned him as you could feel your hear breaking.

‘‘You always ask me that I need to eat or take at least a break! I know how to take a break I’m a grown up!’‘ He yelled as you scoffed. ‘‘Well, I just want to take care of you, how hard is that supposed to see?’‘

‘‘Well, maybe I don’t want you to fucking care about me!’‘ He groaned in frusteration. ‘‘I thought you wanted this,’‘ You told him after a silence as you could feel your tears streaming down.

‘’Maybe I thought that this was wrong,’‘ He said. ‘‘My life was better before you came,’‘ He spat as you felt your stomach drop to your core as a million pieces broke your heart towards that sentence.

‘‘Fine, if you wanted me to leave, you just have to say it,’‘

‘‘Then leave, I don’t care if you don’t come back,’‘ He replied as he watched you slam the door from his gaming room. You packed the stuff you needed to survive for the last of couple of days as you texted Marzia on your phone.

Y/n:

Hey, can I come over and stay with you guys for the last couple of days?

Merz 🥰:

Ofc, is everything alright?

Y/n:

I’ll tell you everything later, I just want to be somewhere else without Corpse.

You sighed in relief when Marzie had accepted your request. You knew that Felix was going to be angry towards Corpse later when you’ve told him about everything. But right now, you don’t need your big brother’s protectiveness. You just need some time to process this. With a final look towards your shared apartment you closed the door before you went to your brother’s place without looking back.

Corpse heard the door slam in the hallway. He sighed exhausted before he kept working. But the words still stuck inside his head. He knew that Felix was going to be angry at him of what he had done. Because after he had confessed his love for his younger sister, Felix had threatened him if he was hurting her, he would pay for it.

He started to reflect back towards the past few weeks. He realized that how lonely you must’ve been without his presence. ‘’Fuck,’’ He swore to himself before he saw a notificaiton onto his phone.

Pewds:

You’re dead.

#corpse husband x reader #corpse husband #corpse husband imagines #corpse husband fanfic #corpse fic #pewdiepie x sister reader #felix kjellberg x sister reader #among us

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beldroxramscal · 4 years ago

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Third Time's the Charm

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Two times Frankie almost tells you he loves you and the third time he actually does.

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: This is a birthday fic for @chasingdreamer and since I love her so much, I decided Frankie loves her thrice as much! I know no one writes better Frankie than you, but I tried my best :D I really hope you like it. I even tried putting in some little details for you :D Happy Birthday, Julia! Love you <33

English is not my first language and I have no one to beta for me. That is just a very long way to say: sorry, my English sucks.

Masterlist

You didn’t hear him the first time he said those three words, and he thanked God for that. It was not more than a month into dating you, and he knew it was way too early for such confessions.

He took you fishing, something you’ve never done, but was more than excited to try. Planning the trip for the whole week, searching for information about the fish in the lake you were going to, the best baits, and, to his utter delight, even your wardrobe.

“I don’t wanna be overdressed, Frankie,” you’d reason with him. And so he sat there and watched you go through your wardrobe, smiling so much his jaw hurt, as you picked your outfit.

The day didn’t turn out as well as you both hoped. It was supposed to be sunny and warm, but when you two arrived the sky was gray with a slight wind that smelled of rain. Still, you were determined not to let such a small detail sour your mood.

Your smile never seemed to disappear as you two walked the small distance through the forest, even when you kept sliding on the mud and catching him by his arm for support. He tried not to get too excited at the constant contact, but you’d giggled and apologize to him every time, and his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest.

Frankie showed you everything you needed to know, practicing with you for almost an hour just to have an excuse to be so close to you. It felt incredible for him to be the one to show you something new, something you seemed to enjoy this much and would associate with him no matter what the future holds for the two of you.

“You are a pro,” he smiled when you did the whole process by yourself. His heart skipped a beat when you looked at him bashfully from under your eyelashes, your cheeks pink, as you thanked him.

Leaving you by the shore with a rod in your hand, he retreated to the bags. He packed a small picnic basket, and he wanted to surprise you when you seemed so focused on the task in your hand.

He decided against the blanket, the grass was wet, and he didn’t want you to catch a cold. Instead, he moved the two folding chairs closer together with a small folding table in between them. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes as he tried to put everything together when you suddenly screamed. Frankie turned his head just in time to see you fall face-first into the shallow, muddy water. In an instant, he started running towards you, but before he could get to you, you were already sitting up.

You turned to him and your beautiful face was dripping with water with pieces of mud sticking to it and the rest of you wasn’t in much better shape. Maybe even worse.

He stopped dead in his tracks just a few feet away from you, his face frozen with fear of what was going to happen. Will you yell at him for leaving you alone? Oh God, what if you’d never speak to him again?

But then you started laughing. Your head was thrown back and your hands were flailing around as you tried to speak, but there wasn’t enough air in your lungs for that. So you just laughed and pointed, and he’s never seen anyone or anything more enchanting than you at that moment.

“I love you,” he breathed out. Too quiet for you to hear through the fit of laughter, but loud enough to shake with his whole being. He wasn’t expecting it, didn’t know it, but now he said it out loud and there was no denying it was true.

The second time was a mess too but in a completely different sense. The two of you were hanging in your apartment, eating pizza and drinking some beer, when you decided to show him one of your favorite movies - Pride and Prejudice. He’s never seen it before, not really into that period lovey-dovey stuff, but you looked so excited he couldn’t refuse. So you both moved onto the couch. Few clicks of your remote control later and a soothing piano started to play from the TV.

He didn’t know what to expect, but he had to admit he could see the appeal. The tall brooding wealthy man and the headstrong heroine with her own ideals? Not very groundbreaking, but there was something about it, he couldn’t put his finger on. It felt almost like a magnet. Whatever it was, he was becoming a fan.

It wasn’t until some time later, when Darcy followed Elizabeth from the church, that he felt you stir in his arm. He looked down to where your face was laying on his shoulder. Your eyes looking almost longingly at the TV in front of you with a piece of pizza hovering just outside your lips, when he noticed you were mouthing along with the movie. You knew the speech and by the look on your face, he could tell you wanted this. You wanted someone to get over their fears, and tell you they love you. He wanted to be that man for you.

“I love you.” He didn’t realize how dry his throat was until the words left his mouth. Well, barely.

You looked up at him, and he could feel his heart in his throat from the anticipation.

“Huh? You said something?”

It was quiet after that, except for the TV, but there were bombs going off in his mind.

“Nope,” he shook his head. Kissing you on your forehead just to distract himself from the panic that seized his body. You smiled and turned your attention back to the TV.

Okay. So he was going to become that man for you.

Third time’s the charm.

Frankie wasn’t planning anything for today, you two were not even supposed to see each other, but when you texted him about being stressed because of your asshole boss, he decided to cheer you up a little.

On his way to your place, he picked up some tulips and a cake for your nerves. And his nerves. His mind went into overdrive as he started to doubt his decision. He was inviting himself to your home, without any kind of heads up or any indication you even want him there. He contemplated calling you or maybe texting you that he was on his way, but before he could even make up his mind what would be better, he was turning onto your street.

Frankie parked outside your house, looking at the flowers and the white carton box, trying to decide what to do. He kept picturing you angry at him for showing up uninvited and kicking him out, telling him how creepy he is. He knew it was stupid, you wouldn’t treat him like that even if you were annoyed. And you wouldn’t wear one of those pointy witch hats his mind kept picturing you in for some reason.

It took him almost ten minutes of sitting in the car outside your house and reasoning that he could always just give you the stuff he bought you and go home. No harm in that right? Just him thinking you might need a pick me up. He finally got out of the car after that and rang your doorbell.

He expected a lot of things, a witch hat included, but he didn’t expect you to open the door in his plaid shirt. It was the one he gave you on your fishing trip, so you could get out of your wet shirt. You promised to wash it and give it back to him, but he completely forgot about it.

Your surprised face mirrored his own, but he was sure your heartbeat was much calmer. Or at least that’s what he thought until you started stammering.

“Frankie! Oh… wh-what are you… doing here?” You kept fidgeting, your eyes ticking from his face to anything else as if he caught you doing something you shouldn’t have.

“Is that my shirt?” He raised an eyebrow, unable to mask the smile that threatened to cut through his cheeks.

You looked down, flushed, nervous, tripping over your words as you shook your head. “Uhm… may--maybe? I-- I’m not sure.” But when you looked up at him again, it was all the confirmation he needed.

“God, I love you.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #mine

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notbleachtea · 3 years ago

Text

Favorite Shirt

Okay time to post again. Slight warnings, mention of death, toxic relationship, slight emotional abuse.

Word count ~2.9k

"Tch, I guess it’s about time I clean my desk. I can't work with all of this crap on it." Jotaro annoyedly says.

While cleaning off the countless stacks of paper he pauses. All desire to clean is quickly knocked out of him. He sits back down in his desk chair holding the group picture you all took in Egypt. He glances over each face in the image, some happy memories, some not so much. He would give anything to go back in time to change the way things played out. So many stupid mistakes. His eyes immediately halt when he gets to yours. His face expressed sorrow and longing.

His favorite memories of the two of you start to come rushing back to his head, and for a moment, he smiles. The constant flirting that always occured between the two of you. The silent stares you each felt from one another. No matter how much the others teased you two, you still weren't sure if admitting your feelings was the best idea. You each had your own reasons for keeping distant. The mission was much more important anyway, and so was your friendship.

He recalls one of his favorite memories with you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a long week of tiresome stand battles, the closer you got to Egypt, the more intense they became. He noticed this was taking quite the toll on you and made the gang find a hotel that night so you could get some much needed rest. In the meantime he suggested that you use him as a pillow in the car on the way there.

Honestly, you took him up on the offer. You took everything you could at the time knowing that it would never go any further no matter how bad you wanted it to. Your head rested on his large chest, which was surprisingly soft for how tough he was. Every now and then he'd tug on his hat to cover his face when in fact he was just trying to steal a few glances at your peaceful, resting figure.

"Alright, we're here, group up and we'll get going into our rooms," Joseph states.

"I ca-"

"She's staying with me. There's no discussing it." Jotaro then picks you up and carries you to your room.

You started to wake up from the movements and the background noise going on in the hotel, and the first thing you saw was Jotaro's face when you opened your

eyes.

"Clearly I must be dreaming," you thought.

"Look who decided to wake up." he scoffed at you. "Really left it up to me to carry you all the way up here."

"I'm so sorry! I won't let it-"

"That's enough. I was just kidding anyway. You fought really hard today, it's the least I could do."

You smiled back at him as he set you down on the bed. That was honestly all the thanks he needed.

"Anyway, I'm going to go get something to eat, I'll bring something back for you if you want, but you should probably get some real rest soon."

You began to crawl up into the bed in your dirty and torn clothes from the day you just had.

"Good grief, what do you think you're doing? You're really going to sleep in a nice clean bed in your dirty clothes??"

"Well, I don't really have any clean clothes left right now, so, unless you have a better ide-"

You were quickly cut off with a soft hit to the face. Jotaro threw one of his clean shirts at you.

"Here. You can use this. It'll be more comfortable anyway."

Jotaro had left to go pick up some food and when he came back he was greeted with his favorite shirt filled with his favorite person. Wearing only that shirt made you look much smaller than you actually were, it practically went down to your knees.

"Thanks Jotaro! I promise I'll get it back to you as soon as I can."

"Keep it. It looks better on you anyway." He cooly tried to say as he pulled his hat down over his eyes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After everything that had happened in Egypt, you just wanted to get away from it all for a while. Go out on your own to a new place with no reminder of the loved ones you lost and all the feelings you never acted on. As a thank you for your hard work, the SpeedWagon Foundation offered to pay for everything of whatever you decided to do. You thought maybe you'd try going to school in America for a while. It was great, you had all the experiences you grew up seeing in movies and on TV. You made plenty of new friends there and even dipped your toes in the dating pool.

Right after you finished school, you and your boyfriend got married. You thought that's what you ought to do, you've been with him for so long. Everyone thought you were the perfect couple. He always took you out on extravagant dates and bought you expensive jewelry. Every girl wanted to be you. But that was only because they didn't know what happened behind closed doors. He never physically hurt you, not many people could, I mean you could hold your

own in Egypt, you're pretty tough, but mentally, he knew you were weak. You would confide in him in the beginning of your relationship about all your friends back home that you missed. He never let you call home or talk to them either. The ones you could never see again. Everytime he wanted you to hurt he would just remind you that they were dead because you weren't there for them, you weren't strong enough to save them. Countless letters came in from your friends and family and he'd throw them away before you could see them. He would even tell you that no one was writing to you anymore.

Every now and then you manage to chat with Jotaro. He'd call you on your lunch break at work from time to time just to play catch up. Asking things like 'how's life?' and 'are you doing okay?' and the sort of thing. Everytime you told him you were doing great. You love your husband and you even try to brag about how well he treats you by describing all the luxurious gifts he's been buying you. Everytime Jotaro ended the call saying he was happy for you and then a

quick update on his life.

To be honest, Jotaro wasn't falling for your phone calls. He knew something was wrong, but he never knew how bad it really was. He thought it was strange that you never wrote to him or called him outside of your work hours. It was also strange how you never really went into depth about your personal life either.

One fateful day, you're having a routine call with Jotaro when your husband decided to stop by to take you out to lunch. He asked the secretary why your door was closed to which she simply responded, "Oh, she's talking to her childhood friend Jotaro! He usually calls about this time every week."

He walks into your office catching you off guard while you're still on the phone. The shock alone causes you to drop the phone with a quiet screech.

"Y/n, are you there?" Jotaro stays on the line worried about what he just heard.

Your husband shuts your office door leaving just the two of you in there and is yelling just loud enough to where your coworkers can't hear him.

"I thought I told you no one wanted to talk to you anymore? They're all fed up with you, can't believe you let your friends die back in Egypt. They'll never

forgive you for that."

"You're right I'm sorry just please don't do this here."

"What makes you think you can tell *me* what to do? That's not how this works. And who gave you permission to talk to other guys? There's going to be some serious consequences for this when you come home." He walks out of your office smiling at all of your coworkers like nothing had just happened, followed by a shut of your office door and your muffled cries.

"Y/n?? Are you still there? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"Wh- what did you hear?" You managed to squeak out, choking back tears.

"I heard enough y/n, he's not a good guy. I knew something was wrong. We have to get you out of there."

"No. This is my life now. I don't need your help, I told you I'm perfectly fine."

"Y/n I'm not kidding, you have to get out of there *now* and I won't take no for an answer."

"I can't, okay! I have nowhere to go. No one would believe me if I said the things he's done to me. Anyone who I try to run to just rats me out to him and the situation gets worse."

"Y/n, go pack your most essential things while he's out of the house. I'm buying you a ticket home for tonight. You'll be safe here this time tomorrow."

The instant care Jotaro had just shown you only causes you to cry more. How could you let yourself get like this? You really weren't okay. You were just too headstrong to admit anything was wrong.

"Thank you." You were able to muster through even more tears.

After picking yourself up off the floor and drying your face, you left your office, no intention to come back. You rushed home to grab only your essential items while your husband was finishing his day at work. You grabbed a few sets of clothing, your toothbrush, hair and makeup accessories, a few pairs of shoes, and your folder of important documents. Everything else was replaceable and or retrievable at a later date.

You take a deep breath and get the courage to call a ride to the airport.

Free from your husband's control, you weren't scared to text or call Jotaro on your own phone now. You called him letting him know that you were on your way.

One short plane ride across the ocean later and Jotaro was waiting there for you to take you home. You're not sure how long he was there for but you're convinced he was waiting there since before you even took off.

"Y/n, over here." He waves you over.

You walk over shyly and ashamed of what he had witnessed just the day before. You couldn't even pick your head up enough to look him in the eyes.

"Y/n it's okay now. You're here with me, he can't get to you right now."

"Ye- yeah I guess you're right. So where do I go now?"

"C'mon, I'll take you back to my place."

"We're stopping there before the hotel?"

"I'm not letting you stay alone right now. You're staying with me at my house. The only reason I let you fly alone was because it got you out of there faster."

Jotaro takes your bag and you both head to the taxi.

"C'mon short stuff, get those legs movin' faster."

"Hey! Not everyone can be freakishly tall."

Jotaro raises one eyebrow, "So I'm a freak, aye?"

"Sorr-"

"Don't apologize, you're already more vocal when you're free around here. I like it."

The taxi drops you two off at his house. The drive felt like an eternity when in reality it was only a few short minutes. You stared out the car door window in awe.

*So this is what he's been up to this whole time*

"Well c'mon now, let's get inside."

You quickly follow after him like a lost puppy.

"There's a spare bedroom upstairs and down the hall, why don't you take this time to relax and freshen up while I make us something to eat?"

"You really don't have to do this for me Jotaro, but I appreciate it."

You head upstairs with your bag. It really was a long flight. You decide to take a quick shower and put on some clean clothes.

About an hour goes by when Jotaro comes by your room to collect you.

"Dinners ready y/n."

"Okay, I'll be right out, I just have to put some makeup on first."

"Uhh, what for? We're not going out anywhere."

"I don't know. I just always do. He always made me wear makeup, even at the house, I guess I'm just used to it."

Jotaro quickly turns around and starts heading towards the kitchen, but not without leaving a remark, "well don't. You look better without it anyway."

You follow soon after him with a fresh blank face. The table has already been set beautifully and you can already smell your favorite dish. He brings over two plates of food followed by a new bottle of wine.

"Why don't we catch up for real this time?" He asks.

Hours go by at the dinner table along with a few bottles of wine. The two of you bickering just like the old days. You missed this. You needed this.

You finally caught a glimpse of the time and stood up to help clean up the table.

"You don't need to help clean this up y/n. We can even clean it up tomorrow. Why don't we go talk in the living room for a bit longer?"

You move forward as an attempt to get to the couch, finally realizing how much you actually drank, you're quite tipsy in fact. Jotaro moves over to the couch to join you. Sitting side by side he grabs your hand with a guilty look on his face.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry this happened to you. It's all my fault."

Clearly he's a bit tipsy too if he's actually trying to admit being at fault right now.

"None of this is your fault Jotaro, what are you going on about?"

"If I was just straight with you when we were younger. If I actually had the courage to say something to you. Maybe you would have stayed. Maybe you would've ended up with me instead. Instead I thought you were too good for me."

Your eyes start to swell up. "Don't say that. Ever. I'm the one that's not good enough for you. Why would you ever want someone like me?"

"Well, you're you, that's why. You're strong, you held your own in the desert, you tried your hardest for us and you made it out. I've never met anyone as strong as you, and to know that someone took advantage of you? And I wasn't there to protect you? I'm so sorry for all of it."

Now full on ugly crying again, Jotaro wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for a hug.

"I'm so sorry Jotaro. Can you forgive me?"

He lifts up your crying head by your chin and brushes all your loose pieces of hair out of your face. He holds you here until you return the look into his deep aqua eyes. He moves forward, crashing his lips into yours. There was no hesitation on your end, you kissed him back just as hungrily. Neither of you needed words to figure out what the other one was thinking. You could feel the admittance of your love for each other from just that embrace. Jotaro pulls back and pushes your head into his chest so he can hold you once again. He pats your head.

"It's all okay now, I'm sorry it took this long," and he leaves a kiss on the top of your head.

The moment is only ended by your yawning since you've been up for lord knows how long. Jotaro picks you up and carries you in his arms to his room. He notices the slight confusion in your face.

"I was thinking maybe you sleep in here with me tonight, kinda like old times?"

"Okay, just let me go change into my pajamas. I don't want to get in the nice clean bed in my dirty clothes.".

You walk back into his room in just his old t-shirt you kept from the desert.

"You really kept that old thing?" He spouted.

"I really did. It's how I kept you close that whole time I was gone." You said with an embarrassed smile.

"It really does look better on you ya know?" He says through a full face of blush. Just seeing you again in that shirt made him think of all the things he wanted to do to you now and then.

You moved to go lay down alongside Jotaro in his massive bed. He always wanted to know what it'd be like to hold you in his arms in his own bed.

Jotaro pulls you into his chest to hold you tight, with no intention of letting you go. He places a delicate kiss on your cheek. You squeeze his hand as a subtle sign of acceptance and nuzzle into his broad figure.

“Goodnight y/n. Sleep tight.”

#jotaro kujo #jojo #jjba x reader #jjba #jjba jotaro #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro x reader #jojo jotaro #jojosbizzareadventure #jjba pt 3

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justsmilestuffhappens · 4 years ago

Note

I just thought about Mama Athena knowing her boy loves to play detective so she organises for him to go on a ride-along like Sue did for Maddie, and Buck has the Best Day Ever in the squad car, decked out in an LAPD hoodie and shades.

And technically+legally ride-alongs aren't supposed to get involved with any actual investigations, chases or arrests, but Athena lets him read out the miranda rights and press the button for the lights and sirens.

She's working a full shift so it's late when it's time to leave, but she's not letting him go home hungry so he stays with her as she goes home, where Bobby is waiting for them both with one of Buck's favourite meals. Bobby listens to all of Buck's enthusiastic accounting of the day and even brings out dessert.

And maybe he falls asleep on their couch, still bundled up in his hoodie, occasionally mumbling "...right to remain silent..." while Bobby and Athena do the dishes, before they tuck a pillow under his head and a blanket over his shoulders and wish their oldest child sweet dreams.

Or maybe he stays awake - barely - and Athena drops him off home, his real home, where Eddie opens the door with a fond smile and open arms, cooing lovingly when Buck starts sleepily babbling about having the greatest day and how amazing Athena is and how Bobby made trifle.

(Buck gets her a mug for her birthday that says LAPD's Finest.)

Okay umm. My lip trembled.

😎 😎

This is so freaking cute and soft. I think we really needed this right now. Especially with the incoming episode that's going to wreck us.

Buck would freaking love to go on a ride along. Why hasn't he yet? It would be a change of pace from before taken in the back of the squad car when he gets in trouble even if he doesn't get arrested.

🤔

'Oh so this is what it feels like to sit in the front seat of these for once'

Athena second guesses her idea for a second right there though. At least she didn't pick both him and Eddie if that were even possible.

Oh. Maybe they're at a scene and she chasing a perp telling Buck he can't help her don't touch anything while she goes to grab the perp. Only Buck's on the radio because he knows the area or building. Being a fire marshal taught him so he knows the layout of the business and there's a short cut or that ways a dead end you got 'em. The back alley was blocked by a delivery truck every Tuesday, I had to give them a violation before, he can only head to the East street.

🧐

Buck saying the Miranda rights without needing the paper either both because he's been told a few times and or because that's his favorite part because it's important Eddie they have to say it and it reminds the suspect, it's the law for a reason and needed dude.

Him telling Eddie all about it lively the next day as Bobby relays his face to Athena yeah it was a good idea for cheering Buck up but he won't stop trying to solve mysteries any time soon though.

🥰

Buck in an LAPD hoodie gimme! Just imagine the others teasing him are they gonna lose him only he's like no you can't get rid of me and they wouldn't have it any other way buckaroo you better not.

🤯

Them coming home to Bobby's cooking. Literally chef's kiss. Yes. Buck insists on helping serve at least or clean dishes, the rules of the firehouse even if he's a guest but he's not really he can help.

😛

Buck telling Bobby about their day and how badass Athena was she used the voice Bobby like she does at scenes it was so cool 😎 only Bobby knows yes his wife is amazing that's not new buddy.

Oh God him falling asleep saying the Miranda rights is top tier wow so cute and I could totes see it.

😴

"Lord we've created a monster'

Athena shaking her head with a fond smile at her giant pseudo son as Bobby kisses her cheek.

'He's our monster, he's real good'

*BRB I'd die because Buck wouldn't hear this he's asleep! I

😵 💀

Ironically I prefer that over the buddie one him falling asleep on the couch but throw in Eddie coming over to pick him up with Chris in the morning or him driving over after passing out because it was hella late and Athena took his keys, texting Eddie he'd stay there with them, the boy was tired and he'd get his boyfriend back

'Please don't kidnap him Athena'

Eddie teases back with a 😟

'You'll get him back in one piece'

it's like nearing midnight then.

Buck telling Chris he got to turn on the siren and the lights getting a gasp as eddie looks on at his boys teases the fire truck has sirens too but they're not the same Eddie, yeah daddy Buck has a point. Betrayed by my own son again. Eddie clutches his chest like the giant dramatic dork that he is.

😉

Buck giving people little meaningful gifts always gets me like I want it so bad after the coffeemaker prank yes please let him do that for the others too especially like this how sweet cute

😍 🎁

It's a wonderful memory he'll cherish compared to the take your kid to work day when his parents had him sit in the office corner and be quiet as his they worked I'm so sorry umm let's not end it there

😢

Maybe the next time something goes down he's like hey Athena look see I didn't touch anything this time and I called the cops no b break in the chain of evidence and all that and she tells him yes that's better but he's still on thin ice she doesn't want him in danger and he gets teary at that because she drops she doesn't want to see him get hurt but knows he'll jump to help people first think later and can't blame him it saves lives

🤕 🥺

Let's end it there thank you so much I've gotta get back to writing but this is the good stuff 👌 I love this it's so delicious amazing! 😀

Athena: You never give up. That's what being Buck means to me.

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jetaime-jespere · 3 years ago

Text

Old Times All Over (Part 1 of 2)

A very special thank you to @sequinsmile-x for the beta!

Exactly six months pass before he can’t stand it anymore.

Aaron takes a risk and goes to Emily while she's undercover in Paris.

Rating: M

Exactly six months pass before he can’t stand it anymore. The weight of her absence is unbearable; it follows him around as if lingering in hidden shadows and settling deep in his soul, an indelible stain that doesn’t fade as the days pass by. He bears the team’s grief, shoulders it and doesn’t let himself handle his own. It feels wrong to mourn her as if she were actually dead when in reality she lingers somewhere very different, another kind of hellish existence. He often finds himself wondering what she’d say about all of it. Emily would have scoffed at the ornate casket, rolled her eyes at the formality of the Catholic service the Ambassador insisted upon. He’d been the one to make the call on the flight back to DC. Elizabeth knew right away why he was calling, and the detached coldness in her tone was merely a coping mechanism, for the older woman’s grief seeped through the phone as he relayed the news. Aaron could scarcely reach her eyes as he offered condolences in person, the words heavy and thick on his tongue. Elizabeth’s questions were answered with the vague formalities that were constructed as part of a grand lie, held together with threads that ran the risk of being unraveled with the slightest misstep.

Read the rest below the cut or on Ao3

Emily’s life depended on the sanctity of those lies, as did his own.

No one can ever find out about this, JJ had whispered to Aaron and Clyde behind a firmly closed door in the depths of that hospital in Boston. It was eerily dark, their heads bent together in near silence as initial plans were laid. For her safety, and all of ours. It felt oddly conspiratorial to plan her disappearance as she laid just feet away, oblivious to it all and very much alive. But Doyle escaped into the night like a ghost, and that meant Emily had to go too whether they liked it or not. It didn’t matter that they hunted monsters like him every day. They knew the moment her heart started again, that she would pull through, that she’d never be free. He’ll never stop looking for her. Clyde’s voice was like rubbing salt in a wound that burned through his skin.The tension between them was thick, laden with the unspoken tension of a tentative truce and a keen awareness of the pain that coursed within each of them. He will go to the ends of the earth to find her.

Aaron disliked Clyde Easter from the moment he laid eyes on the man. Perhaps it was his closeness to Emily - she trusted him, more so than she did Aaron, as was being made abundantly clear. It still stung - that she’d gone to him in her moment of need without even once considering just maybe the team could have helped. Maybe it was the way Clyde knew her so intimately, almost as well as a lover would - a delicate balance of adoration and indignance, a fierce desire to protect the oaths they’d sworn years ago, loyalty and trust woven from years of brushes with peril only to do it all over again. But it was more than that; he knew from the moment Clyde sat before him in an interrogation room in Boston his loathing ran deep. Only later would Aaron realize they both paid a similar price for loving the same woman.

The idea to go to her comes to him once Dave has finally disappeared for the night and the bottle of scotch is empty once again. It’s a ritual they share now, unspoken yet expected, an attempt at burying the worst of their grief. It never quite hits the mark, because Dave doesn’t know the truth. His words are wise and well intended, but he speaks of loss in terms of death, and it’s one thing Aaron can’t think about for too long. But it’s some of the only company he has once the building quiets down, so whenever he shows up at the door, he doesn’t object. Most nights they leave together after a round. The echo of their shoes striking the marble floors is the only noise between them when they pass the framed photos of agents long gone on the walls, now with Emily among them. He wants to shake someone, tell them she doesn’t belong there. “Don’t look,” Dave tells him every time. “It won’t bring her back.”

He always looks.

Tonight Aaron lingers, the idea now an intrusive thought reverberating through his weary mind. It’s dangerous - violates every rule of her disappearance - and puts anyone who knows at risk. He shuffles the files on his desk only to do it once more, rearranges the pens in the cup and flips through a few reports that still require his signature. His phone rings; he doesn’t have to turn it over to know it’s Jessica asking where he is, that Jack is asking for him. He was supposed to have been home a few hours ago. Instead of answering that phone, he digs for a different one. This one has stayed hidden in his desk since the night they returned from Boston. Clyde had pushed it into his hand at the last possible moment before he boarded a flight, his face stony and solemn. “If you ever need to reach me, use this.” It might be the closest thing to a friendship they’ll ever have, a twisted kind of bond that comes along with a shared secret they very well might take to the grave.

“I was wondering when you would call,” comes the lilting British accent on the other end when the line connects. “I thought for sure it would be sooner.” Clyde’s voice is haunting; it takes Aaron right back to Boston when it was just the two of them in that interrogation room, piercing blue eyes up against his darker ones as the pieces fell into place. If you want to stop that man, you have to put a bullet between his eyes yourself. He barely recognizes his own voice; it strains when he explains exactly why he’s calling, once the doors of his office are firmly shut. Even then, it’s a near whisper.

“You do realize what you’re asking of me?” Clyde demands. He’s not exactly surprised by the request, though. After all, he and Aaron had a few things in common. “The risks of all of this?” He’s whispering, the hiss of his voice biting even from thousands of miles away, wherever the hell he might be. “I thought you did things by the book at the BAU.”

“Can you make it work or not?” Aaron’s terseness matches Clyde’s hostility, a thinly veiled shield for his grief that consumes him.

There’s a pause on the other end, followed by a contemplative inhale as if he’s considering his answer, like he holds the power in his hands himself. “You should have more faith in me, Agent Hotchner.”

...

It’s all a little too easy to coordinate once the initial call is made, much to his surprise. For two weeks, things continue as normal, or as close to normal as possible, a period of limbo-like freefall. A case takes them to Portland, another to Providence. While the team is across the country, Clyde takes care of the multiple identities and aliases Aaron will use in Europe, along with a reservation at a nondescript hotel and God only knows what else. He’s barely back in Virginia for an hour when a text message on the burner phone reveals a series of coordinates, a meeting location.

“A direct flight to Charles de Gaulle might seem suspect,” Clyde whispers, nestled amongst the shadows along the Potomac River three nights before Aaron slated to leave. “There’s a flight from Regan to Heathrow, then to Paris. You’ll have a different identity for each, so best not to get confused.”

Aaron bristles at the snarkiness in his tone. “And my cover story?”

Clyde scoffs, as if disgusted by the question. “You’ll tell your team you’re being called to London to consult with Scotland Yard as a favor to a friend. I’ve already taken care of those details as well - a fake case report. Familiarize yourself with them so they don’t suspect anything.” He passes over the thick envelope, holding onto it for just a moment too long.

“How will I find her? Once I’m there?”

“Leave that up to me, Aaron. She’ll be waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” is all Aaron can say once he holds the weight of it in his hands. “I know you took a huge risk to do this.”

Clyde stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets and shuffles his feet awkwardly. “I love her too, you know.” It’s certainly the most honest he’s ever been, something that looks like hurt flooding his features. But he stiffens a few seconds later with an authoritative clearing of his throat. “Bloody hell, Aaron, for all of our sakes, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

...

Aaron drops Jack off at Jessica’s. He relays the same details he told the team a few hours before with the same feigned degree of calm assurance and mock annoyance - just a few days away, work related. No one suspects a thing. In fact, the rest of them seem almost happy for him to go. “A change of scenery might be nice,” Dave says as they walk out of the BAU.

It’s risky, inherently a bad idea and yet, it isn’t enough to deter him. There’s an element of betrayal he feels for lying to the team, for they’re still reeling from their collective loss. They miss her just as much as he does; none of this is fair. He drowns it out with a pair of headphones and a stiff drink as the plane roars to life and lifts into the sky as the sun sets.

He wakes up hours later in London with a headache and an all too familiar ache in his chest.

…

It’s another few hours of travel before he actually lands in Paris. He’s completely focused, determined as he collects his luggage and leaves the airport. He destroys the first passport moments after the plane touches solid ground and tucks the next one in his jacket pocket for easy access, the others will stay safely in his travel bag. Aaron calls Clyde on a new burner phone, one of several included in the envelope of documents that was passed over in a shadowy spot by the Potomac. He answers on the first ring, doesn’t even bother with a greeting. Instead he rattles off an address Aaron commits to memory and adds, “she’ll be waiting for you,” before the line goes dead. The address, he soon finds, is a small cafe in the fifth Arrondissement, the Latin Quarter. At first it seems risky, to meet in public, but it’s probably safer than somehow having a record of her address.

The woman at the small table in the back of the cafe is inconspicuous, but he spots her immediately upon opening the door. She could be anyone; she fits right in. One slender leg crossed over the other, a chic knee-length boot peeking out under the table. A simple raincoat, hair cut just below her chin. It’s lighter than it was the last time he saw her but still a rich shade of brown.The only giveaway is the state of the nails on her right hand - not manicured, bit down and ragged. It’s her, exactly where Clyde said she would be. He doesn’t make a big show, just simply sits in the empty seat across from her, his heart pounding in his chest when he sees her face for the first time in months. Emily’s hand is unsteady as her fingers wrap around the espresso on the table. “I’ve been waiting.” It sounds formal; she makes no move to shake his hand or hug him, or display any bit of emotion, but her lips tremble and her eyes well up a little.

“I got a little lost along the way,” Aaron shrugs a little, keeping his tone light for any ears privy to their conversation. She smiles, probably picturing him lost on the maze-like streets of Paris, the streets that still don’t feel like home to her either. “I’m here now.” It carries more weight than it ever would; all he wants to do is touch her to prove to himself this isn’t just part of the fucking nightmare he’s lived since March, one he’ll wake from wrapped in sheets damp with sweat and a pounding heart. She’s very much real, very much alive in front of him, but what the Emily he sees isn’t the Emily he remembers. Paris might be beautiful but it hasn’t been kind to her. She’s thinner and paler, shades of exhaustion on her face. Over the years Aaron has seen her sleep deprived more times than he could count - the toll of back to back cases added up - but this is something else entirely. It’s the culmination of fear from constantly looking over her shoulder, the toll of the unknown. Would Doyle ever stop looking for her, or would the rest of her days be spent on the run, alone, days that blend into weeks into months and years? Would she ever come home, to the only family she’s really ever had?

Emily studies him too, undoubtedly shocked at what she sees. Time hasn’t been kind to him, either. He’s a shell of what he used to be. A subtle shadow on his face that’s new, he’s weary eyed and tense. She knows it’s not because of the better part of a day he’s spent traveling - it’s much more than that. It’s a haunting look, with the memory of how quickly things spiraled out of control. He’d been helpless to stop any of it; Emily knows the blame he places on himself. If their hurried goodbye in the hospital was any indicator of the torment of what he’s been through the last six months, then she knows it’s been hell for him. Just like it’s been for her. She pushes another espresso, this one untouched, in his direction. “How much time do you have?” English feels foreign on her tongue. It’s been weeks, months maybe, since she’s had a real conversation not in French. It’s an act. This is all an act, but one her life depends on. Every minute she spends walking the arrondissements is a risk. The fear curls around her spine a little too tightly. She glances around the coffee shop, eyes scanning through without spending too long on any one thing. It can’t look obvious, only effortless.

“Not nearly enough.” Aaron wonders how much she knows about this, just what Clyde told her about the logistics of his visit. “We have about forty eight hours.”

He doesn’t miss the longing, wistful look in her eyes when she nods, the slightest tip of her head. It’s not enough time, it never will be. But it’s all they have, all they might ever have. They speak in short sentences, vague and cryptic, as they sip the espresso. It’s stronger than he expected, she seems immune to its effects. She doesn’t call him Aaron, and he’s careful not to call her Emily. He doesn’t know her new name, either. Not even Clyde could give him that information - it was probably better that way. They make superficial conversation - the rain here and the heat there, the bakery on the corner with chocolate croissants and the headlines on the newspaper that sits on the table. He plays along as she explains, as if he fits into this world she’s had no other choice but to assimilate into. To anyone in the cafe, they could be old friends, lovers even, with years of history between them, a casual intimacy spun like a web. The ease of lulls in conversation, a subtle glance every so often, the comfort of the proximity of someone else.

And hidden somewhere in their conversation, behind a facade of lies, is something else. What no one knows, what they haven’t quite managed to forget themselves, is something happened between them once before.

...

It was spring, after the dust had settled from Foyet and the world started to turn again, albeit slowly. Only when things settled into a new kind of normal - the humble experience of single parenting, relying on Jessica like he never had before - did Aaron realize something had changed between them. Perhaps it was the unwavering way Emily stood by him even when he wouldn’t admit to needing it, or how she picked up his loose ends without making him feel like his life was unraveling before his eyes. It was the way she mourned Haley’s death, a steadfast presence at her funeral, and her attentiveness to Jack in the months after.

He’d been divorced for more than a year, separated for at least two. Aaron no longer mourned his marriage, but the loss of his son’s mother, the woman he’d shared more than half of his life with. But someone else started to preoccupy his mind - dark hair, a blinding grin, a wicked sense of humor. It was becoming harder to ignore; she was everywhere. So a few months later in the spring, when he found Emily, nursing a drink at the hotel bar that had clearly seen better days, after a particularly brutal case in Scranton, he knew exactly how the night would end. It would cross a line - railroad through any professional boundary they still maintained. But an unsub had walked free earlier that night, a child was dead, and while it wasn’t her fault, he watched any trace of composure vanish from her face when they got back to the hotel as she retreated into herself.

It shouldn’t have happened that way - definitely not how he imagined it would. But Emily was desperate in her need to forget, he was desperate to help her do so. It was frantic, the clash of her teeth against his an ironic reminder that this was the first time he ever kissed her. Aaron pressed her back against the wall, sucked a bruise into her neck, and buried himself inside of her with one smooth push. He swallowed her moans with his mouth, the snap of his hips brutal and sharp. She reveled in it, her need for him and this, legs hitched over his hips as she clenched around him.

“Wanted you for so long,” he growled as she came around him. Her fingers were like vices around his shoulders, clinging to him as he fucked her through it, unrelenting. “Thought about you, about this.”

“Me too,” Emily gasped, the simple admission triggering his own release until he came apart and took her with him one more time.

Aaron had to carry her to the bed in the middle of his hotel room. It was the most gentle he’d been all evening, gingerly placing her in the center of it, following her down and pulling her into his arms. She was bruised and sore, he wore the scratches of her nails on his back and shoulders. Emily curled into him like she’d been doing it forever, snuggling into his chest. “I still can’t feel my legs.”

“We should have done that a long time ago,” he mused into the darkness, dragging his fingertips down her spine, listening to her slow, even breaths. It’s an admission more than an observation, and the low laugh that comes from her is all the confirmation he needs to know she thinks the same thing.

It happened again hours later, in the middle of the night, this time softer, slow and unhurried. He made her come twice with his mouth, coaxing her through each one. Aaron took his time, marveling at her and whispering praises into her skin. She beamed under his touch, besotted under his gaze. He studied the sharpness of her ribs, the curve of her waist, the length of her legs. And then he held her hands in his own above her head, rocking into her, metronomic and even. He kissed her like a lover should, his lips still wet with her slick, her legs pressed tightly wrapped around his waist as she crested against him. He collapsed against her shortly after, grappling for her hands, leaving kisses along her collarbones - anything to be as close to her as he possibly could.

But it was over after that.

Timing once again failed them. Not because they didn’t have the chance, but because they were both afraid something would change, whatever friendship they built over time, and they wouldn’t be able to take it back. They never talked about it, never even acknowledged anything had happened in that hotel room in Scranton once it was over. It lingered between them, the awareness of it sometimes all-consuming if she got too close or they somehow ended up sitting beside one another on the jet. But things happened - JJ’s untimely departure, coupled with Seaver’s arrival, the grueling toll of case after case. It was buried, hidden behind the burden of their jobs and the baggage they carried, both too stubborn to admit what was right in front of them.

And then she slipped away, shortly after a case in Montana. Emily’s typical professionalism, her unmatched level of skill was marred by uncharacteristic lateness and a short fuse, as if something had settled into her mind that she couldn’t shake. She was secretive and jumpy, slowly withdrawing from them all before his own eyes. And he’d been too caught up in what they weren’t saying, what they were hiding from, to even ask what was wrong.

Aaron never saw it coming. Until it was too late.

…

The cafe suddenly feels suffocating, the four walls trapping them in. What started as an alluring scent of coffee beans and freshly baked pastries now feels cloying, overwhelming. It’s just a little too loud as their conversation fades into silence. After all, there’s only so much small talk that can be made when he only has one question. Why? Across from him Emily shifts in her chair yet still wears her pleasant smile, still playing the act she’s perfected over the last several months. But she’s tearing at her fingernails, a sure sign that she’s nervous. He knows her tells by now, all of them. “What do we do now?” She asks, her voice barely audible. Whether it’s intentional or not he isn’t sure,

He leans in, takes her hand in his own. “Let’s get out of here.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #so not canon #hotch x prentiss #I love these two idiots so much #but I will make their lives angst and hell for a little bit #and slow clap for Clyde Easter #angsty but no one dies I promise

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