#If I had the fucking time to draw at home my life would be sparkles and glitter
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I keep trying to post shit I been drawing lately BUT I CANT. I CANNOT BRING MYSELF TO. THE WORMS INSIDE MY HEAD DO NOT APPROVE OF THEM. I CANNOT FUCKING DRAW. PUT ME DOWN. I DONT FEEL THE SILLY IN ME.
#If I had the fucking time to draw at home my life would be sparkles and glitter#I feel like my skills are falling away from my grasp#Bc wdym I was fr cooking before I came back to school and now this junk happens#I’m probably just out of energy from everything that’s been going on in my school#And I think I said som in the tags of one of my latest posts about a new girl in class that’s funny n shi. Well she isn’t.#I’m starting to hate her bc she’s cringe and quirky as hell but not in an actually funny way it’s just annoying#And she’s always cutting me and other people off in irl convos and acting like the goofy main character#While also being so unbelievably stupid like we have to repeat things to her over and over again and it’s just. So much.#I feel bad for being an absolute hater but she’s genuinely becoming more and more insufferable and it’s just her second week here#Idk how my friends put up w her but I look at their faces and I can tell they’re done w her sometimes#It’s not that she’s a bad person she’s just. So cringe. In a bad way. Not in a “let people be cringe” cringe way. Just cringe.#Like I swear she’s an absolute ditz#Or whatever the word is in english#Why am I just hating on this random girl nobody on here knows irl mb but I had to get it out 😭#Ugghhhhhhggg I’m sorry for not posting anything too interesting chat#I know I technically do post quite often but I don’t feel as artistically satisfied with myself as I felt before#oh and I’m also going to try reaching out to some teachers I kinda trust ab how I feel mentally and shi#Maybe they’ll talk to me#i hope they do#I just don’t feel like myself anymore it’s like I’m two entirely different people online and irl#im so much more open online and irl I’m like an actual nobody. Not degradingly I’m seriously just not sociable 😭#But ummm yeah whatevz I guess#vent#vent post#personal rant
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Shadows of Isolation
BEARBLR PROMPTOBER DAY 1 - Scary Movie
pairing: Richie Jerimovich x Reader
word count: 735
notes: I don't know who is going to read this, this is only my second time sharing fan fiction writing. Bearblr Prompter sounded so good, I wanted in. Happy October.
Richie would definitely consider himself a romantic, albeit a bit rusty at this point. Always the loud and obnoxious one among a group, opportunity was limited to showcase certain skills of romance. Tonight was going to be a normal Wednesday evening, normality he has grown accustomed to since meeting her - a breath of fresh air and friend first and foremost. You invite his obnoxious jokes, you even have a few of your own up your sleeves, yet it is your acceptance that has anchored him the most. Being around you doesn’t simply prompt introspection, it encourages it. For Richie, a blessing when the rest of his life is going well, a curse when it all topples down one meltdown and one interaction with Frank at a time.
He met you at a bowling club, long after the rest of his The Bear family left the scene. An attempt to avoid life for just one more lime soda on ice. “Last one’s paying, am I right?” you smirked returning your bowling shoes after giving them a good clean. He looks at you confused and you wave your debit card defeatedly. “That’s how it goes. Did your friends leave you to pay as well?”. Richie sips from his drink and shakes his head, “that’s some asshole friends you’ve got, sweetheart.” You nod with a smile as your eyes move toward the exit, “Naaah they’re okay.” you respond warmly. After settling the bill you turn to him, “You want some company while you finish this drink?”
That's how your friendship started, a long conversation about bowling and your respective friend groups later and you suggested to stay in contact in case the other ever needs a bowling partner. And bowling turned into billiard nights, laser tag, arcade strolls once every two weeks if you could arrange it. Richie was hesitant in the beginning, the attention he received from you felt like a set up. In his eyes, whatever your intention was, you were way out of his league and your blatantly open flirting triggered internal alarm bells. If you asked The Bear, everyone would attest that Richie’s demeanor changed over a very short period of time, and life seemed a bit lighter. And sometimes he dared to dream about those doubt-inducing what-ifs. What if she doesn’t flirt just for shits and giggles, and what if this is his second chance?
Tonight felt different; tonight, you had invited him for a scary movie night to your place—you, a woman whose laughter sparkled like sunlight through trees—welcoming him into the comforts of your home to watch horror films on an oversized projector screen in your living room. Sharing space and sharing your passion for horror with him is totally normal between friends, but Richie’s brain has been in overthinking mode since you so casually suggested the very different plans for your treasured fortnightly Wednesdays. He toyed with the idea inviting you over many times and you beat him to it. As the sun dipped below the horizon and shadows began to dance around along the walls, Richie suddenly felt overwhelmed by a tide of self-doubt that gnawed at him like a malicious specter from one of their chosen films.
The movie flickered ominously as you shared popcorn and half-hearted giggles and sweet “fuck offs” mouthed at each other when creatures leapt out from dark corners onscreen and it took him offguard. Yet with each echoing shriek from your lips came another reminder of Richie’s perceived inadequacies—your stories of trips around the world with your friends, live music you’ve experienced and all these soft impressions of a life fully lived draws stark comparisons against his new solitary lifestyle filled only by weekends with his daughter and hopes of somehow turning all this shit around. He marvels at your spirited conversations but feels a heavy weight settle over him: How could someone so wonderfully alive be interested in someone like him? As anxiety washes over him, turning every heartbeat into thunderous doubt, Richie finds himself retreating further into his thoughts even as you laugh together at his wild reactions to ridiculous jump scares.
And as darkness envelopes you both, something shifts within Richie and it becomes clear to him that maybe there is no place for him in your life, not right now when all he has are glimpses of who he could be, and no real appreciation for who he is.
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A Hallmark Christmas Movie in Summer
And now, we're almost there! The poll spoke up and I'm posting the last corner of my first @harringrovesummerbingo card! I had so much fun writing this one, it's my favourite, because both of them are so silly and stupid and funny, and I adored Max, she is a little brat, affectionately!
I love Hallmark Christmas movies and they are perfect for one of them, witha little summer twist!
Title: A Hallmark Christmas Movie in Summer
Square & Prompt: C1 "Caught in a thunderstorm"
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 3679
Major Tags: Idiot to lovers, Hallmark cheesiness, plant shop.
Summary: One is a successful professional person in a big city, probably already an associate, with a healty, handsome neurosurgeon partner. The other is a ripped lumberjack or something similar, living in the same old little Midwest village, maybe not so educated but really good at feeling. One returns home for Christmas and the other turns their entire world "upside down". Now make it in Summer, the one is a bit of a loser and the other is a sort of ripped lumberjack in the same old little Midwest village... Could a thunderstorm draw Steve and Billy near each other?
Read it in AO3
Perfect. Just perfect.
The day couldn’t go worse.
Not only that, he left his card at the reception of the hotel that morning, so he had to come back after a three hour drive. Not only he forgot to stop at the last gas station when that red light of the battery turned on, so now the car was at side of the road, out of power, and he just noticed that he left the house’s key inside, but now, the sky was becoming black and silver, the cold air was blowing against him and he could see the lightnings and hear the thunders really near. He was in the fucking middle of nowhere, alone, frightened, and lost.
Well, lost… he probably would prefer being lost. He crossed the “Hawkins” city sign and sighed.
His parents had sold his childhood home and he came back there to see it for the last time, to take the last things he wanted to keep; he got the chance to take a break from his shitty life in Denver, where his girlfriend had just dumped him for another, less loser, guy, he lost another dead-end job in a insolvent company and he had just to leave the tramp flat he couldn’t afford anymore.
Steve Harrington was coming back to Hawkins in the worst way: heart broken, broke, unemployed and futureless.
And soaking wet, because the dark sky melted down in a cold, heavy and pouring rain in a second, drenching him from head to toe and making him feel even more miserable.
The city seemed empty and turned off; finally he saw the only open shop along the street that had a light inside and ran to it, opening the door wide at the ting of the little bells, and he took shelter inside.
“Fuck to this shitty city, fuck the rain!” he exclaimed while the door closed behind him, his hair still glued on his forehead and eyes, drippin miserably on the floor.
“And a good day to you too, Harrington”.
Steve’s heart skipped a beat, and he slowly raised his head, moving his wet hair with a hand.
He tried to say something, but words died in his throat and he stayed there, still like a statue, mouth opened, totally blanked.
His enemy, his nemesis, his senior year nightmare… his secret high school crush was there, at the other side of the bar, smirking at him with those perfect blank teeth, his pink lips, his soft flawless skin, his sparkling blue eyes and his blonde curls covered by a hanky, a short sleeves shirt that showed his tattooed toned arms, and a tattoo peeking out from the collar too, and a black apron cover him and a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hands.
Steve looked around furtively, during an instant that seemed to last forever, to the shop he just entered; buckets of flowers in the floor, shelf with vases with various shades of green and in many shapes, a light floral scent of dried flowers and fresh water.
He just invaded a plant shop, and Billy Hargove was in charge of it.
Outside, the storm continued.
“Billy?” he finally murmured, and Billy smiled more, becoming more bright, if possible.
“Hi, Harringrove. Long time no see,” Billy finished the bouquet and smiled again, making Steve blush, and he noticed it, giggling. “Back home, finally,” he added.
Steve shivered, the water still dropping from him. “Just… just visiting my parent’s house… they… they…'' he looked around. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to take cover…”
Billy waved a hand. “Don’t worry. Typical summer thunderstorm”.
Steve could barely breathe, everything Billy said sounded terribly hot and flirty, but it was surely his fault because he didn’t expect to find him here, working between flowers and making a bouquet. He was golden tanned, and he wondered how he could get a color like this in a shithole like Hawkins.
“My car broke and I have…”
Billy smiled again and opened his mouth to answer, but in that moment the door opened again with the jingle of the bells.
“Jesus Christ, everything happened to me! It always rains when I do some deliveries by foot, damn shit… oh”.
A short figure, covered by a yellow raincoat, dripping like Steve, had entered the shop cursing with a high pitch voice.
Max took off the hood, shaking off the water, and stared at Steve with the same surprise as him staring at her.
“Steve?” Max eyes darting to Billy.
“Hi… Hi, Max…”
“What’s going on?”sShe asked, while Steve was asking the same thing to himself.
“Steve’s car broke and he got caught by the rain like you,” Billy said in a warm, soft voice, and Steve shivered again. “He’s just visiting, right, Harrington?”
Steve nodded. “Yes, I…”
“Well, it’s late and I think nobody would come at this hour, so, what if we just close the shop for today?” Billy continued.
Max hung the raincoat and took off the boots, smoothing her soaked hair. She shrugged and nodded, turning the sign on the door on “closed”.
“I better get going…” Steve took a step to the door, but Billy snickered a little.
“Oh, not at all, you can’t go around like a drowned rat. Max, can you tidy up while I help Harrington?”
Billy showed a door to Steve, and looked at Max with a crooked smile.
“Slut,” she mouthed.
Billy guided Steve upstairs stairs to the first floor.
“Do you live here?” Steve asked to break the ice.
“Yeah, it’s convenient with the shop. I thought you wanted to dry a little, you seem frozen”.
In fact, Steve felt the water dunking his hair and his clothes and he was beginning to teeth chattering. His hands were ice cold.
“The bathroom is right there. I’ll get some more towels, if you want to take off those wet clothes”.
Steve kept telling himself that it was probably his fault because he was surprised and nervous, but Billy’s tone seemed really flirty.
He took off his shirt in the bathroom and opened the pants button, but he looked behind him and saw Billy standing there, looking at his narrow waist, some towels in his hands and a smirk in that pretty face.
“Please, don’t mind me, Harrington,” he purred. “We used to be teammates after all, don’t we?”
Steve blushed furiously. Yes, they used to be teammates and change in the same locker room, and he had a hard time in his senior year having Billy around. It took ages to understand that a part of this hate and intolerance against Billy was due to a little attraction too. It took ages for him to come out and accept his past crush on Hargrove.
And now he was half naked, embarrassed, in Billy’s bathroom, in Hawkins, the last place he expected to see Billy again, with his nasty look on his back.
“I’m afraid I don’t have many things that can fit you… but I can borrow you a tracksuit,” Billy entered the bathroom, closer to Steve, and left some clothes for him. “Do you need some underwear too?”
Steve felt his cheeks on fire. “No… I’m fine,” he tried to hide his face, dressing up quickly and drying a little more of his hair.
“So you stay at the old Harrington manor?” asked Billy from the kitchen.
“Yes… They are about to sell it and I’m checking…” he nervously went near the door. “I have to go now, I have to return to the car”.
“No way. I’m going with you and I’ll check on it.” Billy took his keys and made it clink, winking at Steve.
“There’s no need…” Steve tried to brush aside Steve, but Billy nodded.
“Of course. I’m glad to help”.
Steve sighed and got in Billy’s car. He wasn’t surprised to see the infamous blue Camaro and to hear the roar of the gas that Billy liked so much in the old times.
“It is the battery, nothing serious,” he said after checking the dashboard. “Luckily I have the jumper cables”.
Billy restarted Steve’s car and then cleaned his hand in his jeans, smiling at him.
“Thank you so much, Billy”.
“No big deal,” Billy leant to his car but he didn’t feel like going away. He shared a little to Steve, who sat in his car, hands on the wheel, too embarrassed to stare back at him.
“Well, Harrington, have a good time at Loch Nora,” Billy sighed finally, patting Steve’s car and opening the Camaro’s door.
“Wait, Billy…” Steve gripped the wheel. “Can I… well, I’d like to… do you have plans for dinner?”
“I could cancel, why, Harrington?” he grinned, with sparkles in his eyes.
“Well, I want… I want to thank you… maybe we can have dinner together?I… I have nothing at the house, anyway…”
Steve sweared internally and cursed himself. Why did he start stammering and begging so pathetically? He bit his lips.
“Deal,” smirked Billy. “You buy,” he blinked again. Steve nodded. “Can you pick me up in an hour?”
Steve nodded again and started the car, trying to go away before doing some other screw-up.
Billy had just the time to take a shower and fix his hair, then he dressed up a little bit and bathed in aftershave, as Max noticed in a loud voice when he stormed out the door at Steve’s arrival.
Hawkins didn’t have a lot of fancy restaurants, but fortunately one of the prettier has a table for them.
Billy ordered a glass of red wine and Steve had the sensation that his way to drink it was too sensual for a simple thank you dinner, and he felt goosebumps all over his body. They chatted nicely about trivial things for half the time.
“So, what is your life in Seattle, Harrington?” Billy asked abruptly in the middle of the second course.
“Denver,” corrected Steve.
“Denver,” nodded Billy. “Living the best life, right? How are you doing with your girlfriend?” he blinked.
Steve gulped, swallowing a mouthful. There was no need to tell his whole pathetic story, but there was no need to lie either. They’re chatting about this and that.
“Well my girl dumped me recently, so not very good but one always survives, am I wrong?” he snickered, trying not to seem too miserable.
“Oh. I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’ll find someone better, plenty of fishes in the sea”, Billy smiled again to him. Obviously he hadn’t an idea about how King Steve had sunk so low lately.
“And you?” Steve teased, raising his eyes at him behind his beer.
Billy scoffed. “Oh, no boyfriend at all,” he stopped a little, letting the word sink between them. “The dating pool is absolute shit, you know…”
Steve pursed his lips. No, he couldn’t really understand how Billy was single, every man, woman, boy or girl, old or young, any gender and orientation should throw themselves at a stunning beauty like Billy, especially there, in Hawkins, where he should be surely one of a kind. He himself would jump on him either…
“I’m bi,” he shot suddenly, almost without filtering from his brain to his mouth.
Billy choked, blushing a little.
Steve praised the earth to open and swallow him.
Billy finally smiled, slipping his hand near Steve’s on the table, without touching it, but making the move evidently. He grinned and changed the topic.
When they left the restaurant, the air was warmer than in the afternoon, the heat had already dried the fleeting rain of the thunderstorm, and Billy put his jacket on the backseat of Steve’s car. Steve left him in front of the plant shop and Billy waved him goodnight with a big smile, sighing while the car went away.
The next day started as a hot, shiny and clear summer day, and Max and Billy were working in the shop with the door open to let some fresh air enter.
Steve appeared in the doorframe in the middle of the afternoon, waving Billy’s jacket as a shield.
“Hello… you left it in my car yesterday…” he lent the jacket to Billy. Max startled looking at Billy, surprised: it was his favorite jacket and he would never forget it.
“Slut,” she mouthed behind Steve’s back, and Billy grinned at her.
“Thank you, Steve. It had been a funny night and I wasn’t thinking about the jacket…” he purred, and Max rolled her eyes, while Steve blushed.
“No problem… Well, I have to go, I… I have some paperwork to handle…,” he turned his back, but Billy stopped him.
“Hey, Harrington, your pantry’s still empty?”
Max sighed, and Steve turned to him, confused.
“Well, yeah… why?”
“What about a homemade dinner… to thank you for it?” Billy whispered softly to him, rubbing his jacket.
Max wished to be abducted in that very moment: Steve babbled something unintelligible for a long, pathetic minute, before nodding and accepting, bright red like a pepper.
“Great,” Billy stared at Steve’s eyes until Steve had to lower his gaze and stormed away.
Max stood with her hands on her hips.
“Harrington, eh? You’re such a slut”.
Billy didn’t look at her face, but took his car keys.
“I have to go for groceries. Ah, sleep out tonight, I need the house”.
Max shook her head. “What?”
“I need the house, so stay at El’s or Sinclair or whatever, understood?”
Max smirked. “You seem a little bold to me for someone who needs a favor”-
Billy rolled her eyes. “Jeez, ok, fine, please, could you please leave me the house for tonight? Please? ”
”You’ll have me for Thanksgiving and the spring break next year!”
“Are you nuts?”
“And Lucas. And El too,” insisted Max.
“You’re kidding,” Billy looked angrily at her.
“You’re the one who wants to get laid, not me”, Max returned to her work, waiting.
“Ok, ok, fine, you three at my house, whatever!” Billy snapped, and Max smirked. “So you’ll stay at El?”
Max nodded. “Ok, deal, I’ll sleep out tonight. I’ve already planned to stay at El’s, anyway,” she made him tongue, and Billy opened the door with rampage.
“Bitch,” he snapped at her.
“Slut!” she yelled in return.
Billy opened the door and Steve entered the apartment, welcomed by soft light, a chill music and a delicious smell from the kitchen. The first time he didn’t notice many details, but now he could see a lot of house plants that seemed obvious, and some pictures of Max, Max’s graduation, a portrait and a photo with her and Billy eating an ice cream.
Billy reached him with a glass of wine and Steve felt a little nervous.
“Is…. Max living here too?”
“Yeah, it’s me and her at the moment…” Billy read the worried look in Steve’s face. “She’s out for dinner,” he smirked, inviting him to sit on the sofa. Steve, instead, followed him in the kitchen where he was giving the last touches to the dinner.
He had tied his hair up in a bun, with some blonde lock on his neck, a silk shirt, red, and Steve had to awkwardly admit that he had imagined it, the sleeves rolled up on his arms; he had already seen Billy’s tattoos last night at the restaurant, but now they were even hotter with the extra care he put in his outfit.
Steve had tried to appear at the best too, and after all he hadn’t completely lost his touch, but he almost passed away when he saw the front, the shirt lazily unbuttoned and the tattoo that peeped out on Billy’s pecs, while his golden medal captured the warm light of the room.
Billy led the conversation during the dinner, and Steve tried to relax, with difficulties, because it seemed that Billy could flirt so naturally that Steve couldn’t even try to resist. After all, an invitation like that had an obvious purpose.
The food was delicious, another skill that Steve didn’t expect from Billy, but he was distracted by the charming conversation and Billy’s lips, along with more than a couple of the fresh white wine that matched perfectly to the shrimp pasta and the delicate sauce of the meat.
When they finished, Billy tempted him with a stronger wine and they moved to the sofa. Again, Steve felt nervous for Billy’s proximity, their knees were lightly touching each other, and trying to guess how to carry on with the date.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, will Max…”
Billy shook his head. “Oh, she’s busy, she’s out for the night. A pool party or whatever”.
“Oh.” Steve nodded.
“A pity you couldn't throw a pool party here again, right?”
Steve shrugged. “It’s life, I guess”.
Billy chuckled softly. “Although I can only imagine how big is the pool in your mansion in Denver,” he said, in a tone that Steve couldn’t read. He blushed, thinking at the dump he had called home for the last two years.
“Well…” he considered putting all his cards on the table or maintaining a little dignity, at least for the moment. “Actually I don't exactly have a pool… actually I’m leaving my… my apartment, I need a fresh start, I guess”.
“Well, it’s good too. It’s a classic, right? The little city golden boy who leaves the Midwest and lives the best life in a big city…”
Steve bit his lips.
“I guess you can make it successfully whenever you want…” again, Steve couldn't really read Billy’s tone, and it seemed a little mocking to him, but how could Billy know he was all but successfully and rich and that he had had a miserable life since when he left Hawkins without any idea? “Do you already have a plan?”
Steve shrugged again. “I’d always wanted to see California, but lately I was thinking of staying here for a while… like, downshifting a little”.
“Yeah, it’s like a movie, right? The successful man who returned to the shitty little place and made it a big win”. “Well if you’d say living in this shithole is a win...”
Billy blinked, and Steve cursed himself, wondering if he hurted his feelings in any way.
“I mean… there’s nothing wrong with staying here, of course… it’s not a matter of running away or failing, I mean… I’m happy to be there and…”
Steve forced himself to breathe slowly and stop the tornado of thought inside his head. He was better than that, and he could do better.
He raised his eyes and looked Billy straight in his’.
“It’s a matter of luck, too,” he said softly, smirking a little.
Billy smiled lightly and put down his glass, hanging out towards Steve; his hand slipped sweetly on Steve’s thigh.
“It’s a matter of opportunity too,” he whispered, closing the distance between them and kissing him.
Steve released a whine of relief and answered gladly and fiercely to the kiss; he grabbed Billy’s forehead and felt Billy’s hot hands tucking directly under his polo.
Billy’s chest was moving fastly, and his curls were loose and ruffled on the pillow. His lips were wet and parted, and he was looking at Steve topping him with a feral shine in his blue eyes; Steve shivered, although the contact between their naked bodies was almost scalding. He was about to zone out, he would never, ever imagined in his wildest fantasies he could find himself there, between Billy’s Hargove’s legs, his prohibited high school crush, balls deep inside him and making him squirm and whimper.
Billy arched his back even more and clinged his legs on Steve’s back.
“I have been waiting for it since I was seventeen..“, moaned Billy.
Steve blanked out.
He woke up with the soft touch of Billy’s arms around his waist. It took a moment for him to remember where he was and what happened before falling asleep after the most perfect sex of his life.
Billy suggled on his neck, purring and kissing it softly, and Steve felt his considerable manhood, half hard, against his legs. He moaned of pleasure; his girl didn’t like morning cuddles, but he was a fan.
Billy kept brushing his naked skin, burning him where he touched, and Steve reached out for a kiss, then two, and laid down on his back, taking Billy between his own legs, this time.
Billy whispered, satisfied, trying to catch his breath, smiling in the curve of Steve’s neck. It was something he could get used to, Steve thought, if he had to stay in Hawkins, an advantage he had never considered.
After a while, Billy got up and put his briefs on, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“So, you’re thinking of staying in Hawkins for the moment?” he asked, and Steve blinked a little, surprised by the odd and abrupt question.
“Uhm, yes, I think so…”
Billy stared at his eyes, grinning. “Well, if you come to California one day, you can stop and say hello,” he smiles, satisfied with the clueless expression on Steve’s face.
“What do you mean? I thought… you lived here. The shop…”
Billy chucked sweetly. “Oh, no. I’m just helping Susan for the summer, the shop is hers. She’s on honeymoon right now… this is her apartment. I live in California,” he enjoyed Steve’s astonishment. “I work there… modeling. I actually have a pool. Maybe you could enjoy a little party, if you’d come visit”.
Billy smiled slyly, while Steve was speechless. It took a couple minutes for him to regain his senses.
“But… I thought you lived here…” he repeated dumbly.
“Well, I hope it’s not a problem,” Billy whispered, bending a little towards him. “Does it change things?”
Steve shook his head. He wasn’t surprised that Billy was successful and that he was a model, he was even prettier than when he was eighteen. Steve lost the opportunity once, and he was tired of feeling like a loser.
He smirked, smiling at Billy and pulling him closer, grabbing his underwear.
“It’s not a problem. Not at all”.
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last 10 first lines meme
@bossymarmalade tagged me!
Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.
I'm only going for non-drabble fics, because I feel like my drabble first lines are always "sets up the scenario with dialogue if possible."
Could Use A Guy Like Me - Joyce Byers/Steve Harrington, Stranger Things
It starts in the parking lot of Starcourt Mall’s burning carcass.
2. The Price We Pay - Molly McIntire, American Girl
Molly perches on James’ knee. He’s home! She had forgotten the smell of him, so comforting and important, like Palmolive shaving cream and the starch in his shirts and the faint scent of antiseptic from the clinic.
3. Four Times The Avengers Guessed Clint- and Natasha's Designations Wrong - Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, MCU
The shawarma shop is quiet, all things considered—quiet aside from the cacophony of journalists clamoring at its broken windows for the best shot of The Avengers sitting around an askew table, tired and human, waiting for their food.
4. Home is the Human Heart - Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, MCU
Bucky is a little skeptical at first. He doesn’t like crowds of people, for one thing, and for another, it’s not a holiday about which he has terribly strong memories. He remembers Sukkot and lying in the sukkah that he and his dad made up on the rooftop, next to the Shapiros’ sukkah and the Cohens’ sukkah and Mrs. Flannery’s well-tended garden. He remembers his rumbling stomach on Yom Kippur as Rabbi—what was his name? Well, anyway, he remembers the hunger. And he remembers Pesach, his first sips of wine and its acrid alcohol burning on his thirteen-year-old tongue.
5. Haiku - Natasha Romanov, MCU
The plane touches down at the Haneda Airport long after night has fallen outside the airplane windows. Clint leans over and presses his face against the glass as they glide and touch down, watching the sparkling colored lights of Tokyo grow closer and closer. Natasha does not: she has seen cities from the air before. She stares at the back of Clint’s head, instead, at the way his hair is mussed from sleeping in the seat upright.
6. Not in the Answer But the Question - Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, MCU
“On your left.”
7. a smile on your immortal face - Samantha Parkington/Nellie O'Malley, American Girl
Samantha is a well-bred young lady, which means that she attends the women’s college an hour away from home to learn her finishing and to attend functions with the nearby eligible men of Cornell, Princeton, and Yale. It would be uncouth—not to mention un-Christian—to mix with the men of Columbia.
8. Gee, I Hope You're Ready For A Fic About Death - Beetlejuice: The Musical (gen)
Grown-ups are terrible at hiding their feelings. At least, they’re terrible at hiding the fact that they think Lydia is a freak.
9. Five Times Captain America Fucked A USO Girl & One Time Steve Rogers Got Fucked - Steve Rogers/OFCs, Steve Rogers/Hedy Lamarr, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers
Bettie smiles up at Steve and turns so that her long, lean white back faces him. “Zip me up, Captain?”
10. Slice of Life - Clint Barton & Kate Bishop, minor Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop
“C’mon, kid.” Clint slings his arm around Kate’s shoulders. “I’ll show you where to get the best hot dog in New York.”
I tag @bebeocho, @fille-lioncelle, @lazaefair, @idontgettechnology, andddd @morethanonepage
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God of Cowboys and Fools - Chapter Three
“If not for me, they’d have found you,” I say, “and you’d have had no fucking warning. You owe me, Arthur Lester.”
It hit home. Look at that. “I…” he says, pale, swaying just a little on his feet. “Fuck,” he adds. “What do you want in return?”
I’ve got him. He knows it. I know it. It’s in his face, in the way his hands clench at his sides.
Well done, oh King, says the voice, sounding pleased for the first time in fucking ages. What you’ve done here is trigger a life-debt. Those who search for this man would kill him; your forewarning saved his life, and therefore, he owes you his.
Written for the @malevolentmadnessmixup event! Art by @futuresoon.
>>> READ ON AO3 OR BELOW <<<
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Chapter Three
He does that for a while. Drinks, coughs, breathes like a bellows, stares at absolutely nothing. Then he does it again.
I think he’s bespelled that flask. It should’ve been long empty by now. “Fuck me,” he says, and his crisp accent has slurred just a little.
I know that wasn’t literal. I do know that. I can’t seem to help myself. “Untie me and I’ll be happy to try.”
He turns as if he’s forgotten I’m here. “You could sense me,” he says. “That means the others will, too. Fuck. Fuck. How in fuck did you know where I am?”
“I told you. I don’t know.”
He sighs. “I don’t know if I can help you. I need to go. If you can find me, others can. I need to go.”
And I suddenly understand he’s handed me a weapon.
It’s something instinctive to me. He doesn’t know he did it. I don’t even know how I know he did, but I do know what he just told me revealed a vulnerability… so I go for it. “You owe me.”
“What?” he says, startling.
“If not for me, they’d have found you,” I say, “and you’d have had no fucking warning. You owe me, Arthur Lester.”
It hit home. Look at that. “I…” he says, pale, swaying just a little on his feet. “Fuck,” he adds. “What do you want in return?”
I’ve got him. He knows it. I know it. It’s in his face, in the way his hands clench at his sides.
Well done, oh King, says the voice, sounding pleased for the first time in fucking ages. What you’ve done here is trigger a life-debt. Those who search for this man would kill him; your forewarning saved his life, and therefore, he owes you his.
Oh, I like this. I like this owing.
Only when you’re the one owed, I assure you, says the voice.
Yeah. Probably.
I strain again. “Untie me and take me with you. I won’t hurt you. I have no desire to harm you—your survival is my survival, so I will fight for you and with you. I can even draw off enemy fire. Untie me, and take me with you.”
“Fine,” says Arthur. “So it is done, and my debt repaid.” He waves his hand, and the knots undo themselves.
I groan as I sit up. Bodies are so stupid; who thought it was a good idea to make them ache when circulation gets cut off?
Arthur Lester backs away from me, frowning as he looks me up and down.
“I won’t betray you,” I say.
“I forgot how big you are,” he says.
I look down at myself. Am I strange to look at? Too big? “I put it together as well as I could,” I say, because it’s important to me he understands. “It wasn’t enough to just be alive. I needed to be strong.”
Something in his face is so damn sad. “So do we all, god-piece.”
“Don’t call me god-piece.” His face makes my heart feel ways again. “I… you should call me…”
A little humor puts sparkle back in his eyes, and one side of his mouth quirks. “Yes?”
I look around the room.
Crates. Jars in crates, packed with straw. Weird things—specially polished sticks, long and short, clearly for something though I can’t quite figure what. A lot of books I can’t quite make out, but there is one directly under a torch that I can see:
DESCRIPTION AND USE OF A THERMOMETER FOR MEASURING THE HIGHER DEGREES OF HEAT FROM A RED HEAT UP TO THE STRONGEST THAT VESSELS MADE OF CLAY CAN SUPPORT. BY JOSIAH WEDGWOOD, F. R. S. AND POTTER TO HER MAJESTY.
That sounds pretty neat. “Josiah Wedgwood,” I say.
Arthur Lester busts out laughing.
“What?” I demand, feeling weird, feeling pinchy.
“No,” he says. “Just no. I knew him, and he was an ass. Here.” He reaches behind him, picks up a raggedy piece of paper, and hands it to me. “Pick one.”
Pick one?
THIRD NIGHT AT THE THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN, it says. This prefent TUESDAY, APRIL 20, 1784, Will be performed a NEW COMIC OPERA, called ROBIN HOOD; Or SHERWOOD FOREST. With NEW MUSIC, SCENES, and DRESSES.
Well, that sounds really fun. “What is this?”
“Playbill,” says Arthur Lester. “It was a lovely performance. Old English folktales of the heroic outlaw Robin Hood and his Merry Men, Friar Tuck, Alan-a-Dale, Little John—”
“Little John,” I say at once. “Because I’m not little.” And my face feels weirdly hot, though I know it’s a good idea, because saying it is silly.
Arthur Lester looks amazed. “That’s why they called him Little. He was huge. Was that on purpose?”
“Oh.” Well, good for me! “No. It just felt like the right idea.” I beam at him, stupid human face stretching. “I did well, didn’t I?”
He stares at me.
“What?”
“Yes,” he finally says, and his tone has changed. He’s still slurring a bit, but he’s gentle now. “You did well. Come on, then, Little John. Let’s get out of here.”
[chapter four] [masterpost]
#malevolent#malevolent fic#malevolent mixup madness#god of cowboys and fools#john x arthur#malevolent au
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A Personal Account of OCD and Hoarding Behaviors
Hi! I have OCD, and not the fun kind! Let’s talk about my experience with hoarding behaviors. Hoarding runs in my family and I’ve had two living relatives who very clearly struggled with the compulsion to continue bringing stuff into their homes without removing any of their old stuff. My experience has never made it far enough for my collections to, in any meaningful way, impair or otherwise affect my living space— but I’ve felt the obsessive need to collect since my earliest childhood memories. With many professionals agreeing that hoarding behaviors can be linked to OCD, I wanted to share my experience with this vastly under-discussed presentation of symptoms.
My hoarding behaviors began in very early childhood, when financial scarcity set in after a divorce. I won’t call this “true hoarding” though because by most accounts it’s more of a obsessive collecting behavior due to how organized I have always been with my objects. But I had a drawer of shiny objects. I know, shut up, yes I have fucking autism now leave me alone on that. This is about hoarding. My shiny object drawer was definitely a fun box of stimming for me, and I would open it and just scratch my brain itches with the glitters and sparkles and shines of all the stuff I had. No object was disallowed from this drawer— if it made my brain feel good, it was going in the drawer.
Some of the things I collected in there included:
Stickers
Sea Glass
Any piece of paper that was shiny or glittery
Shiny or sparkly wrappers
Polly Pocket or Barbie clothes (again, ONLY shiny or sparkly ones)
Tubes of glitter either discovered or outright stolen for the box
Most importantly of all, I collected innumerable numbers of rocks.
Thankfully, my grandpa eventually convinced me to store my rocks properly, wrapped in papers and in organized boxes.
Eventually my drawer was emptied when I moved homes during a chaotic time in my life. I was living with someone else at that point so I didn’t have any besides a bag or two worth of my old possessions. I also didn’t have that much of my own space so I couldn’t collect things elsewhere.
As a young teen, I realized that I didn’t like having a ton of stuff, but I did like having access to tons of stuff. Once I had my own bedroom and a stable living situation again by 14ish, I designed areas to hoard art supplies and paper craft supplies. Admittedly, while I call this hoarding, in reality I was super crafty and always cutting and pasting and drawing, so it was more of a stash than a hoard and I did regularly go through and look at, cut up and use the materials I saved.
To this day, I have one such box, as I love making mixed media art, especially out of pieces of things pertaining to the subject. For example, I did a marker and water drawing of one of the Florida springs that included a thread of a braided bracelet I had worn there. Today, however, my box is very strictly regulated, and only highly specific trinkets or pieces end up inside of it— and, it’s all kept alongside my normal art supplies so that it’s never mistaken as junk.
Around the same time is when I took up a new way of hoarding— a way that didn’t feel suffocating and didn’t, in any way affect my surroundings— digital hoarding!
I would say my collection of Sims custom content counts… but then again, “CC shopping” was a normal activity of players at the time and many players bragged about their massive hoards of downloads.
But there was something else that caught my attention eventually. I got into digital art. I have hand coordination problems and at the time was friends with people who didn’t, so I felt very isolated from a lot of traditional art communities since conforming to conventional methodology is genuinely impossible for me. Even digital art was hard… but my laptop pad was, while a massive frustration to artists who *can* use their hands, a viable tool for me. Eventually, I became able to do pixel art. I even eventually made pixel animations!
But then… the pixel collection folder began evolving.
A little innocent looking file on my desktop that said “Pixels” —
You could click it and a window would open with two more files listed:
My pixels
Not my pixels
“My pixels” contained, you guessed it, pixel art that I made myself. It was very often just pretty ladies or food. In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, it may have been entirely pretty ladies and food. But I did make sure to section each type of food and each type of pretty lady into even more categories.
Then, there was the unforgiving behemoth of my “Not my pixels” folder. I would spend hours scowling the internet for pixel freebies.
If you’re weren’t chronically online at that age, allow me to enlighten you. For no clear reason, in the mid 2000’s and early 2010’s, every game had a forum and every forum had an art shop section and every art shop section had threads that were entirely operated as pixel art shops. I traded gold, gems and whatever other virtual currencies I could earn for free for pixels, and made pixels for others, too.
The best part about the pixel art shops were that they all had a list of freebies.
Ten pixel bobas, each a different color
Or perhaps it was pixel bagel sandwiches— a selection
Pixel cakes were always my favorite
Pixel objects were also a favorite— pixel cellphones and computers and other toys all on transparent backgrounds.
I took them all.
Years passed but my pixel hoarding persisted. At one point, the files were so overwhelmed with the photos that I would save dozens of at a time that my computer struggled to open it.
Then, my laptop broke, destroying my pixel empire. I ended up unable to salvage any files. They were all permanently gone.
After that experience I was slightly disappointed upon realizing the overwhelming amount of labor restoring my collection would take. I was also gobsmacked realizing the hundreds of hours I had spent achieving nothing other than a collection of low resolution images of food. I decided it was probably best to leave that little.. hobby.. in the past.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve kept a tight lock on how much stuff I have both virtually and in real life, mostly because I’m not willing to pay for storage on both accounts. But from time to time, I catch myself holding something shiny and wishing I could stuff it in my pocket and keep it forever. Or, I’ll run into pixel art in the wild, and have to remind myself that it’s not worth starting up again.
While I don’t “hoard” anymore, I do think I still have a unique relationship with “stuff” in that I explode if I see something go to waste, especially textiles or technology. I will keep objects until I have a convenient way to donate them en masse. I don’t like to destroy even the cheapest of furniture, I’d rather preserve it even if it’s flimsy, and give it to someone who might need something temporary.
I struggle to differentiate values like environmentalism, the will to circulate goods as a way of practicing mutual aid and combating poverty, and a rightful scarcity-mindset from what might be the same pure compulsions I had as a child. Is it /really/ about giving something away, or is it about ensuring that these generally worthless objects I’ve deemed value are are cared for? Is it about practicality or obsession?
Since it doesn’t really affect my life in any meaningful way now, it’s not a cause of stress, just reflection. I think it’s critical to generate reflective dialogues about these more taboo aspects of common mental and physical conditions and neurodivergences so that, together, we can create a more educated and accommodated world.
#lyreleafblog#writing#blog#article#actually ocd#ocd tag#obsessive compulsive disorder#hoarding disorder
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Red Flags
Almost soothing as I caress the oil out my forehead, the steam rising from my forearm in my phones pale light, the shadows thrown from the bright hibiscus candle, the eerie melody from some 40s movie coming through the door crack.
Scrolling through others memories thinking of the days when they were not captured so easy. Those I’ve not forgotten, romanticized remnants of a sequence left to fill our imagination, idealized whatever strikes the mood.
The view was only ever meant for you.
Drinking beers with friends on the patio above our apartment complex entrance watching shooting stars above the hills. I didn’t want to leave, but knew where I was headed if I stayed.
Was the first to see the shower start.
Told me I was making the right choice.
On the way home, the desert sunset radiant in my rearview as I faced what I’d run away from. The shadows above the thin layer of clouds where its hue balanced toward the skyline like an ending in a western.
If I could see it again would it look the same after two decades?
When I was young the restrictions I set as motivations were more a show for others our aspiration and an excuse for tragedy when its promises inevitably didn’t pan out. Naively thinking we dictated what we’ve no hold.
Sacrificed on missing measures, stubborn convictions, and forged epiphanies. Left unfulfilled and disconnected in what seemed so sure before falling for the false narrative of whatever sold as reality at the time. Skipping along in that shallow calm till the ripples filled the spaces in-between to an awakening.
Too late
By then I was in a completely different place, out of reach, left with only the familiarity.
Can’t sleep, heat soaked, stomach tight, breath strained, mind racing, doubts invade, pasts cloud, I need undone from this unfocused wondering. Fuck this phone. I grip my pillow, my love radiating, draw you in somehow. Needing your words whispered like the taste of Christmas morning. Those soft tingles, quiet reminders what I crush for, keeping me in line.
What is it about you that captures me?
Those things I longed for when I was young?
Its reminder in the air around you, a modern touch fills those spaces where I thought I’d only see, before our laughs and feats came with a tear of what is missing, surrendering to their hidden meanings.
Let myself drift further back when my heart was still full of adventure, before my lusts set me into indifference. Was never one to say, ‘one day, if only,’ Ever ready and persistent knowing nothing good came without a risk with no experience of its remorse. Wisdom wasted on a daring mislead youth whose only confidence found in…
Don’t.
It’s the ties that bind across from you.
Nothing else you ever say will matter.
This means more than it did ever.
I can’t recall the conversation with that retired professor and his wife on 16th street in Denver, but remember clearly when he told that blonde not to let this one get away.
It was me who left it there for this faded reminiscence. She was too good, sophisticated and ambitious. It’s been longer than I was then and I’m still here forming fictions. Quenching for that sweet effect that fueled her interest, fighting for a sense, any remnant, an edge over what’s now an unrequited longing.
So much still ahead with a wonder to be built.
No hint of what will tumble down.
The lessons lost on hindsight, thought I still had time
And I did
But time isn’t an excuse.
For you it won’t be the same, but no one passes unscathed. Life has a way of showing all what we thought could never be.
An ever-changing conundrum.
In the last days of September with the white wine on her lips, two thousand seven or eight vintage not sure which, a humid night downtown Winter Park.
A temporary comfort in the scattered mess I was.
Let it last as long as ever as our invisible lines intertwine. Reshape this yearning, find that place where our energies sparkle, slow grinds controlled these untamed moans, make me breath clean, holding back as our pulses dance, our clocks froth ripe fruits of cotton implosions till we hum the same.
How long can we maintain these selfish impulses wanting in our lion eyes, passion senses, what comes next is instincts choice, letting go, show us we are made of more than these beings, complimenting souls coursing through where words can’t interfere, ride it out till nothing but euphoria.
Satisfied, yet unfulfilled.
Only regret is it has to end.
But it does.
No reason to stop chasing.
I should get up. Walk another mile. Clear this tension. Ease where the roots dug in. Fears of commitment, success, remnants of my toxic mindsets, unrectified transgressions, the lies on all sides
‘No one owns you, but if you don’t own up to.’
The layers of this onion’s healed and I’ve come a long way, but the conditioning, still bracing for the weight knowing I should’ve been more than this.
We did it to ourselves, but someone handed us a knife and another poisoned the seed. We’re all Traitors to something walking blindfold through this den with silent eyes always watching.
Is the worst really over?
Eleven years gone since that low summer. I was sober, but most days the only Florida sun I’d see was laying on my side through closed blinds watching dust dance with an oscillating fan.
Across the parking lot young veterans of some sort still nursing the effects of the night before from their second floor balcony a few hours before it set.
Simmering sharp contrasts through the clouds
Powerful and ominous
Glorious, yet calming
The tree line obscured the view from my window, but from their vantage it relished.
What it meant for them I can only wonder
But for me, a reminder
I’d like to say I felt the same optimism as before
But it wasn’t.
No better ending on the side I landed, intentions are meaningless, no need to reminisce too much on what came next.
In a way, now, I can’t help but show some gratitude.
Doesn’t change what it meant then.
Doesn’t change what I’d become again.
Nothing to numb these misplaced angers, the conflicts struggling within me, what occurred and what I’d believed reflecting back all I lacked, incoherent and ill conceived, an ambivalence twisting, constricting my descent. My body inflamed in gross detest, fatally obstinate, the enemies against my nature swirling in the air around me.
No sign of a bottom
…Until I heard that voice, a blessed resonance, in awe of what good this world could bestow. Easing these betrayals, mending these false tares, cannot express what she let bare, my spirits resurrection.
…And all I had to offer was overwhelming, careless in my urges.
Resting her head, tired eyes staring into candle light, the look that crossed her face
The words she said.
It really was never meant for me.
They have a word that makes it meaningless, a guise of careful concern, but not for those who’ve had the experience. Its worth is lost on the outside where certain truths challenge rewards. Just like me in the worst ways refusing to accept they’re not all wrong.
Knowing how it works but not why it’s made searching for anything to quell, ‘what it is and what it isn’t,’ till all the secrets were in our hands. Why’s it still so hard to accept what we sought was never there, but in here.
It was meaningless before.
I said goodbye so many times and still I couldn’t leave, so what’s one more?
…Sweet dreams
…I hope you find all you’re looking for in your world.
Sorry I didn’t do better, I had to find mine the hard way.
What does it matter?
Did all this really happen or just dreams that I imagined, moments of clarity, hopeful actions, and genuine laughs spread among these self-inflictions I can’t erase, abuse, and erratic tantrums.
Life is both as much what is as what you think or how it appears. Tastes change, standards rearrange, there is nothing that stays the same. So keep opinions in your mind but don’t let their support dictate what speaks to you, strings break. Practice carefully till its second nature and you can feel the rhythm in each rep.
On another level of awareness not so easily articulated our senses fear what they’re not ready. We all see what we need to so I won’t tempt anymore. Take what fits. It’s given freely and unattached, what you don’t need will escape to where it’s valued.
I’m now closer to the end than the beginning and I’ve walked longer than I thought I would.
I’m awake, but my body’s tired and I’m all wet...
I’ll take a cold shower and then go back to bed…
Tomorrow will be a better day regardless.
~…~
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@headstrongblake: trinity & nick. / verse: immortal.
they have an argument like this at least once every time he visits her. trinity will try to pry into his life, will tell him that she wants more than this and every time he vaguely brushes it off. well not tonight. tonight she put her heart on the line and she wasn't willing to let him go so easy. she was sick of waiting for him, sick of not knowing what he does to come home to her covered in blood, for the sparkle and shine in those mesmerizing blue eyes of his to dull, for his need to curl around her. she could give him what he needed whenever he wished if he would just tell her why, tell her what had him like this. she loved him and it made her hate him as he pushed back against her wants. her head shook in disagreement, blonde hair moving with her head before he rose and his hand stilled her.
doe eyes soften for a moment as he held her but the tremble of his fingers, the look on his face. telling her she didn't want what she was clearly telling him otherwise. "i do! don't tell me what i want! i know what i want nicklas and it's you!" she shouted back at him despite being held in place at the moment, brows furrowing as fury had her brown eyes growing glossy. "do you not believe me?!" she countered, "or think i'm weak? you don't think i can handle whatever dark secrets you've got tucked away?! if i was, i would have never opened my door to you to begin with! especially covered in blood like you have!" the first time she had seen such a darkness in him she knew something was wrong with her, that she should push him away, that she should sever whatever this was between them. he was dangerous, yet all it did was intrigue her more, draw her closer, make her love him more.
finally it seemed like he couldn't hide his secrets anymore as he confessed his sins to her, that he was a killer. again the confession, much like the first time she'd see his hands covered in blood did little to deter her. confusion has her brows furrow more at his wording. was he some kind of bounty hunter? a spy? serial killer or something? she knew he was dangerous, that he had skill in fighting and barely contained rage which she had seen him pour into men who bothered her once or twice, but again, it didn't scare her. if anything she was relieved he was actually telling her. that was until he continued, elaborating on what the hell he meant.
as he crouched in front of her, she leaned forward a little, looking down at him as he took her hands, doe eyes wide and trusting, waiting intently for more. for whatever he was willing to give her, hoping that dam he had been holding all his secrets behind had burst. yet as his explanation sinks in, trinity's face twists. she doesn't believe him, she can't. ghosts? demons? that shit wasn't real. tears pool in her eyes as she yanked her hands from him, "if you don't want me then have the fucking balls to just fucking say it," she countered his ridiculous claims that he was out hunting things from stupid bedtime stories. she rose from the bed where she was seated, forcing him back as she looked down where he was still crouched. "don't make up stupid fucking lies about demons and fucking monsters! tell me the damn truth! i deserve the truth!" she yelled at him, shoving on his shoulders to push him back and down.
she turned from him then, moving across the room as she angrily wiped the tears that spilled down her cheeks. she thought she was finally getting somewhere with him and he insults her with made up stories like this?! her head shakes more violently before she turns back to him. "you don't want that for me?! wow, thank you, my hero, the demon slayer," she muttered bitterly. "is this some kind of metaphor? you really think i can't handle whatever it is you do? god! you're such an asshole! here i was thinking you actually cared about me like i do you, that you respected me enough to tell me the truth!" she scoffed, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation, "ghosts! ha! what a joke." turning away from him again she paced a little, arms crossing over her chest as her mind cycled through all he said before latching on to another part and whirling towards him in fury again. "and to say that it's not just you but nate and your father?! really? really? if you call nate on the phone right now is he going to tell me the same damn thing?!"
@thewholecrew: ❝ you don’t get it. i want the whole package with you. i don’t wanna be some fling you forget about in a few months. ❞ /trin&nick immortal
no, she doesn't get it!! she doesn't! she can't! alarm bells ring in his head, blaring loudly as he stares at her from the little kitchenette table in his motel room. his hands clench against the tops of his thighs, brows furrowing before he jumps up. his head shook ferociously, a pained expression filling his features because this life she wants, this package she wants with him— god, he'd do anything to have it. but he can't. they cannot. he crosses the space to her, taking her jaw roughly into his hands as he directs her gaze up to him. his fingers shake against her skin, teeth clenching before, "you don't, trinity. you don't, i—..." he's already come to her with blood on his hands. she might already suspect the worst in him.
"i'm a killer, okay, do you get that baby girl? you wanna know what i'm doing when nate and i take off? where i'm disappearing to for weeks? months? i go across the country walking towards things everybody is running away from." it all comes pouring out, fighting to be heard because she has to understand!! she has to know that the life she's asking for doesn't exist with him. hunters die. that's their life. his life. it doesn't have to be hers. it shouldn't be. after years of explaining his ways to those he's saved, he hates this next part. hates the look that'll overtake her big, beautiful eyes when she doesn't look at him the same way. when suddenly, he's just that much different.
nick crouches before her as she sits on the edge of his bed, taking her hands in his as he smoothes over them, lifting his dark hues to hers. "i'm what they call a hunter trinity, i hunt...ghosts and demons and those things everyone's afraid of that go bump in the night. it's all real, all of it and they're all dangerous...nate, me...my da," a heavy sigh shook free from him, his hands tightening against trinity's. "there is no life with me trinity...baby, there's just this road, and this fuckin' chaos and my line of work," he shrugged halfheartedly, resigned to his future, or lack thereof. "it only ends one way trin, baby, you don't want that. i don't want that for you." internally, his heart ached, cringing at the idea that she somehow believed he could ever forget about her. if he had any other life, he'd never let her go. she'd be his. always. but even now, he'll never forget her. not for a single second as long as he lived.
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—hot boy bummer. (m)
⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader
⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut
⟶ words: 14,633
⟶ rating: 18+
⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?
⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink
⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook and @onherwings for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛
( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )
Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.
Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.
College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.
But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.
“What if we, like, had sex?”
Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.
After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”
“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”
“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.
Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”
You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”
“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”
“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”
“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”
“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”
“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”
“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”
The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.
Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.
“But it’s not like you’re any better.”
This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”
“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”
Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.
“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”
A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”
“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”
A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.
“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”
“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”
You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.
The cons? He’s your best friend.
The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.
Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.
“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”
“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”
“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”
“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”
Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”
“It’s true though.”
“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”
“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”
But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”
As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”
“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”
“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”
“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”
Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?
You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.
“Y/N…”
The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.
“Touch me?”
Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.
Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.
“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”
But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”
“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”
“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.
You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.
“Like this?” You rasp.
“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”
“No. Do you?”
“No.”
“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”
“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.
“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”
He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?
He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.
“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.
The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.
“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”
And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.
But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.
So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.
Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.
A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?
Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.
“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”
Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.
Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.
You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.
“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”
More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”
“Want a minute?”
“Maybe.”
Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.
“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”
Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”
“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.
“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”
“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”
“Rules.”
“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”
Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”
“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”
“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”
“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”
“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”
“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”
Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.
“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”
Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”
He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”
Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”
“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”
“Yup.”
“Who have sex from time to time.”
“Yeah.”
He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”
“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.
“We might?”
“No, we definitely won’t.”
Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.
After all, what are best friends for?
So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.
A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.
It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).
But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.
It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.
Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.
Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”
There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).
But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.
As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.
“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”
“You know him?”
“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”
“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”
You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”
At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”
“You’re not jealous, are you?”
“No, why would I be jealous?”
You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.
So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?
“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”
Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”
“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”
Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.
It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.
“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”
“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”
“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”
Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”
Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.
“Jungkook━!”
He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.
“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”
The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.
Fuck it, you cave.
You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.
“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”
That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.
“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”
Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.
“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.
You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.
“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”
Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.
From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.
bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??
You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.
That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.
Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.
Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.
“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”
The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.
“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”
The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”
“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.
From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.
send n00ds?
miss ur tits :(
Typical Jungkook.
The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”
“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”
“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”
You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?
You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.
But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.
You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”
“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”
“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”
Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.
It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.
“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.
Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.
“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”
“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.
“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.
“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”
He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.
“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.
At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.
“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”
Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”
“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”
“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”
“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”
“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”
You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.
“Nngh, Jungkook━”
Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.
God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.
And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.
You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”
“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”
In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.
A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”
You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”
“Well…?”
“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”
That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.
“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”
“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”
A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”
It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.
Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.
That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.
And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.
He smiles.
The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.
But that’s neither here nor there.
Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.
For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.
“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”
Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”
“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.
You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━
It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.
“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.
“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”
“What?”
“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”
The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”
But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”
You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”
You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”
“Jungkook…”
“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”
“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”
“But you wanna.”
“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”
He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.
“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.
He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.
“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”
He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.
You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?
A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.
Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”
“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.
So then why does it feel like he is?
When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.
A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?
You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.
Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”
“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”
You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.
“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”
“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”
You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.
You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”
“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”
“And you said you didn’t want to.”
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”
“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”
A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”
Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”
“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”
“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”
Jungkook flinches. “I know.”
“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”
“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.
“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”
“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.
“Why?”
“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”
The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”
“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”
Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━
“No.”
“What?”
“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”
The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”
“Me?”
The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.
Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.
It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.
Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.
Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”
Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”
Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”
Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”
You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.
“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”
“Oh, Koo…”
A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.
He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that,” You whine.
“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”
“You already have.”
“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”
“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”
“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.
“Yeah,” You mewl.
“What do you want from me?”
“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”
He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.
“Oh, fuck,” he growls.
You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.
“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.
He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.
“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”
You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.
So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.
“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”
He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.
“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”
With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.
A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”
“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”
A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.
“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”
“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”
Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”
“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”
“No,” You croak.
You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.
“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”
“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”
“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”
His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.
Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”
You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”
“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”
You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.
Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”
“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”
Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”
Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.
“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”
As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”
You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.
When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.
It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.
“Jungkook.”
He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”
A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”
“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”
It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”
Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”
His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”
“But?”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”
So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.
It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.
Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━
“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”
The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.
“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”
He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”
You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”
“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”
“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.
A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”
Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.
Because he wants it all with you.
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maybe i do | kth. III
➵ summary : maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.
↳ part of the high-class series!
➵ pairing : taehyung x reader
➵ genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst
➵ rating : 18+
➵ word count : 17k (im sorry omg)
➵ warnings : oh boi we have aNgSt, serious familial issues, swearing, multiple fight scenes, mainly verbal but there is a slap in one, mentions of a wound, mentions of alcohol, (there’s honestly a lot that goes wrong in this chapter but at least tae and the reader have each other), sexual tension :o, bit of possessive!tae, (i mention a short reader a lot but i just wanted to say you’re beautiful even if you’re tall! tae is just very tall to me askldjs)
➵ a/n: i’m back and hoLY is this chapter loaded (and a lil unedited forgive me!!) i’ve finally finished school and get a whole month off now! who knows what works i’ll release in that time 👀. as always, feedback is appreciated loves!
chapter three : “the window opened one time with you and me”
prev. ↞ || ↠ next || masterlist
“Mother?” You stood frozen, completely and utterly shocked as to how your mother was just opposite of you, smiling brightly as if she hadn’t done a single thing wrong in her life and loved you unconditionally.
How incredibly wrong that was.
“Y/N! How are you? Oh dear, it’s been so long!” Your mother threw her arms around your neck, pulling you against her for a hug you just barely returned.
“Good. You?”
“Oh, I’m great!” She beamed.
“What are you doing here?” You inquired, shutting the door after her entry.
“Ah, I just couldn’t believe my daughter’s married now, I wanted to drop by and say congratulations!” Your mother cheered, grinning widely as she began scanning the grand interior of your house, leering as though you weren’t standing just before her.
“Drop by? You could’ve just came to the wedding, Mother...” You suggested despondently, plastering a pained smile onto your face. You attempted to meet her eyes, though they rather seemed to sparkle at anything that appeared expensive.
Anything but you.
“Oh, I was in Ibiza. I couldn’t just leave while my resort pass still had benefits on it, you know me.” She flashed you a cheeky smile as she playfully hit you, propping her heels off.
You nodded half heartedly, trying extremely hard to not lose it on her because you were in your home; a place meant for peace and comfort and didn’t have room for negative.
Not to mention, Taehyung resided just upstairs in his study with most likely his door open, and you didn’t want to risk bothering him if you raised your voice.
“Ibiza was more important than your own daughter’s wedding, huh?” You spoke to yourself, nodding in a manner that would somehow help you accept the sad fact, though instead called forth a feeling you should’ve grown accustomed to by now.
Disappointment.
She knew about the wedding, you knew your father informed her of the ceremony along with its date and time. Though as she audaciously ogled the embellishments of your front foyer and spoke to you carelessly, she practically screamed she gave 0 fucks about your wedding. That what really mattered to her was living out the full experience of an expensive vacation than attending a life-changing night for her daughter.
Typical.
“Oh, c’mon now. When you put it like that it makes me seem so bad.” Your mother pouted like a child. “It wasn’t a real marriage, anyway.” She waved off the conversation as she ventured further into the house, bold enough to strike another conversation . “My God, this is the house of the Kim Taehyung?” Your mother’s eyebrows shot up, drinking in the grand size and wealthy look of the home. “You got very lucky, Y/N.”
You cocked an eyebrow, incredulous of what she was insinuating. “What do you mean, Mother?”
“Y/N, you’re married to Kim Taehyung. Do you understand how fantastic that is? For you?” Your mother was on the verge of scoffing, smoothing over her dress as she looked elsewhere. “He’s an incredibly rich man, and considering that life of yours it’s a miracle he ever agreed to marry you.” Your mother relayed nonchalantly as she caught sight of an exquisite vase.
And there it was, the belittling. You’d mentioned before you were often disparaged and received numerous insults when anything concerned your status as the runaway heiress. But what you failed to mention was the person who claimed the #1 position as your largest and most incessant hater.
Your mother.
“Mother, it doesn’t matter to me whether a man is rich or not.” You countered, trying to quell your snippy tone but it was as grand a fail your mother was at being a mother.
“What do you mean?”
“Unlike you, I’m not obsessed with my husband’s money.” You almost spat with crossed arms, only this comment causing her to turn towards you.
“Excuse me? I’m your mother, watch your tone a little.” She scolded quite lightly, before returning to inspect a painting.
You scoffed, “My mother...” you repeated under your breath, rolling your eyes.
“No mumbling, Y/N. Speak up.”
“I said it’s funny you’re referring to yourself as my mother.” You voiced clearer.
“And why is that so funny?” You could visibly see your mother failing to control her temper with you, masking it all behind a fake smile she mastered ages ago.
“Because you’ve been anything but a mother.” You retorted, knowing exactly what this conversation was leading into.
An argument.
“And you’ve been daughter of the year?” Your mother countered, sarcastic tone cutting the air, and it only made you more irritated.
“Here we go again, the bad daughter narrative.” You scoffed. “Find something new to argue, will you?” You narrowed your eyes.
“And you believe your bad mother narrative is any better?” She sneered back. “I’ve even come to visit you yet this it how you’re treating me. When will you ever learn to be grateful?”
“Please, you chose a vacation over your own daughter’s wedding.” You held a hand up, gesturing against her audacity. “And when have I ever been ungrateful? I don’t remember biting the hand that fed me.”
“No, Y/N, you didn’t bite the hand that fed you, you completely neglected and abandoned it.” She claimed, drawing closer towards your direction. “You left this family to pursue your own selfish desires. You’re the very definition of ungrateful.”
“Excuse me? Definition?”
“Yes, definition. You threw everything your father worked so hard for away. All he ever wanted was to provide his family with a comfortable life, but you instead wasted his efforts and made everyone's lives so much harder. Do you really think I’ll forgive you for what you did to your older brother?” Your mother voiced in an accusatory tone, bringing up an age old argument you knew was going to ravage any peace between you two.
“That was not my fault, he was already due for the same thing in Korea, it doesn’t matter if he’s in the U.S now.” You argued back.
“It’s all your fault! You’re the reason Yoongi hasn’t been able to come home in years! You ruined his entire life by making him uproot and take over the U.S faction when it was your role. Your decision to leave forced him into it!”
“So you’d rather have my life uprooted and ruined than your precious son’s?”
“Because my son isn’t like you! He isn’t selfish at all, Yoonie is a hard-working man who’s always listened to me and your father, always rightfully prioritized the company. But you? You’ve only ever made things worse. You’re completely useless, all you do is tear this family apart. Your father has to pick up your work, you keep your brother out of this country and give me years worth of stress!” Your mother shouted louder than she should’ve, angry as her eyes revealed searing frustration, contempt.
You were trying to negate the hurt you felt by her words, having trained yourself to endure their sharp sting, though no matter how many times you heard them, it never made it any easier.
“Oh please, your favouritism is showing, mother.” You remarked with near tears, her disregard for you so disturbingly apparent it left your eyes watering.
“Yoongi has always loved his work and the company, but I never have. When will you understand that? If I’ve ruined our family so much why have I never heard these same words from Dad or Yoongi? They’ve always supported me, understood and loved me regardless of what life I chose. Why can’t you do the same? Why can’t you just try to understand me for once?”
“Because there’s nothing to understand. You’re an heiress to this family, you are meant to live for this company and this company only. You owe your father and I your life, nothing has ever been yours. The least you could do to pay us back is by rightfully working at the company and not being as much of a disappointment as you are now.” You mother’s tone was strict and resolute, utterly fed up with you.
“Cry me a river, mother. I don't owe you a single thing. You’re one to talk about working alongside Dad and the company, all you’ve ever done is use his money without a single care for his work.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad for his money. You know next to nothing about business or the company and have the least amount of right to lecture me about it. At least I’m not a woman who mooches off somebody and lives recklessly!” You snapped back at her with tears just pooling your lash line, arms crossed tightly holding your chest where it felt your heart would collapse.
“Do you understand who you’re talking to? Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother.” She tried to finalize, but you weren’t having any of it.
“And I could care less. You’ve never once done anything to warrant that title. All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi. It was always dad despite being so busy, it was never you. You weren't even there for my wedding, when I needed my mother the most. No, you’re someone who’d rather use your rich husband and forget he’s a person.” Your voice was shaking at this point, practically rattling. “You may not have been there for my wedding, but I would never do that to my husband.” You let everything out without a care at the point, flooding the tense air.
Your mother seemed to completely lose it at this, her tone scarily still as she gritted through her teeth. “You wouldn’t do that to your husband, really? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?”
You flashed her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”
“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat? Whose lavish lifestyle do you now get to relish in? It’s all your husband’s, not yours.” Your mother was practically spitting venom at this point, scoffing. “I must say, your quest for independence is interesting, having landed you in the exact same place you always berated me for. Look where you are now, mooching off your rich husband.”
If words could dagger you in the heart and looks could kill, you’d surely be 6 ft. under by now.
Years, years you’ve been stuck in this constant loop of back and fourth with your mother, arguing the same 5 things you could never see eye-to-eye on. And no matter what she said, no matter the insults, the belittling, the verbal abuse she always spat your way; you’d grown used to it. Her words became normal, second nature to you and so you easily drowned them out. Her insults became useless weapons you simply dodged and avoided.
But this, this was where your mother won.
Her words dawned a laughable sense of irony on you, nearly physically reeling as though someone had punched you in the gut at the realization. It was raw agony, the very prospect you’d spent the entirety of this ordeal evading.
To think the same independence you fought so gravely for, can so easily be erased and forgotten all due to marrying a rich CEO. It felt pathetic, unfair you had no choice but to marry Taehyung. It wasn’t his fault he was rich, neither was it yours.
It was just coincidence, pure and utter coincidence. But to think this very coincidence would be the reason your stomach is churning and self-worth is collapsing; it was fucking unfortunate, miserable.
“Leave my house, this instance.” There was no emotion in your voice, it was flat, vision clouded.
“What did you say to me?”
“I said get out!” You yelled, the shrill in your voice evidence of tears. “I don’t ever want to see you again!”
��Don’t you dare raise your voice at me! I’m your mother!”
“You’re not my mother at all, you’re the worst excuse of one. Leave my house!”
“It’s not your house, Y/N! It’s your husband’s, and you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!” Your mother had somehow made her way over to you, having the audacity to push you back by your arms, driving her point home by the act of aggression.
You gritted through your teeth, eyes teary. “I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats on her husband with wealthy men in other countries!”
This was the moment your mother gasped scandalously, becoming so irate she didn’t hesitate to raise her hand and slap you across the face.
You stood emotionless, not even having the capacity to feel shocked or in pain due to how normal this was. There wasn’t a single unfamiliar thing about the sting of her hand, the way her manicured nails scratched against your skin and worse, the way her wedding ring usually cut into your cheek to produce a small wound.
It was all too familiar, making you scoff as if this was exactly what you expected from her, exactly what you've always known.
“You still hit your grown daughter, huh? The last 10 years of it weren’t enough?” You endured the ache, swallowing back tears. You weren’t letting them spill, not at this.
Not at something as undeserving as your mother.
“You give reasons to, Y/N.” Your mother simply crossed her arms and looked away, showing the slightest hint of shame though never allowing it to leak into the proud and egotistical persona she assumed around you.
A suffocating silence pierced the air, looming for some time until you spoke.
“Leave this house, mother. I beg of you.” You pleaded, not out of desperation, though out of sheer tiredness. Tiredness of the same argument and the same insults you always directed each other, tired of the same outcomes that only ever lead to more bitterness tainting your relationship. “Don’t make this any worse, we’ve probably disturbed Taehyung upstairs.”
Your mother looked at you with lightly raised eyebrows, inquiring. “He’s home?”
You nodded faintly. “Yeah, so leave.”
“Am I not allowed to meet him?” Your mother seemed offended.
“No, you’re not.” You stated firmly, not caring about the sliver of respect you thought you had for her and instantly pushing her towards your front entrance, nabbing her shoes along the way.
“What are you-” She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before you swung the front door open, guiding her outside and shoving her shoes in her hands.
She was about to retort until you shut the door on her, locking it. You leaned against the wood as you heard her protests, not minding her calls as you allowed your constrained tears to finally stream down your face.
It was too much, she was too much.
Why could your mother never see eye-to-eye with you? Why couldn’t she be a normal mother? Why couldn’t she be supportive? All she ever did was preach how useless you were, how selfish and ungrateful your very existence was.
Of course someone like her could never understand, never understand the value of autonomy and achieving something for yourself; she’s never once done anything along those lines in her entire life.
Her words ran deeper today than they ever have, sending a stifling feeling to swarm your chest, your self-esteem and everything alike collapsing along with your pride.
It hurt, it really did. To hear those words from the very woman meant to love you so dearly, so unconditionally only exacerbated the pain. It made you jealous of every child you was gifted with a kind mother, not daring to curse anyone for it but simply feel it was unfair. Even Taehyung had such a warm and loving mother.
Maybe that’s why Taehyung was so warm.
Taehyung.
You realized you were out in the open shedding tears where he could possibly see you, trying to silence the sobs that escaped your lips. You only failed, agony tightening your chest and growing more painful the more you held it all in. So you clutched your hand to your mouth and made straight for the kitchen sink, running the water loudly enough to drown out the sounds of you candidly crying.
Your cheek still stung, your heart ached and your mind spun endlessly, all while trying to desperately rid yourself of the worthless feeling inside you.
And it didn’t work.
Taehyung had been working, scrolling through his laptop as he diligently reviewed status reports, only to have a notification brighten his phone screen. He flashed his occupied vision towards it and caught sight of his security system alerting him of his front door.
He grew curious knowing the housekeepers were shopping for groceries at this hour, causing him to tap the notification and display the camera feed of his front porch. He was welcomed by a woman he’s never seen, peaking his curiosity.
He almost rose from his seat until he saw the woman turn towards the door in accordance with you opening it, assuming you most likely knew her as she smiled brightly and ventured comfortably into the home.
Taehyung shrugged it off and returned to his tedious reading, staring at the practically blurring lines of text until he eventually began hearing raised voices from downstairs, his ajar doors and grand home producing an echoing effect that reached his study.
Taehyung cocked an eyebrow as he grew slightly worried, discerning it didn’t sound like a friendly conversation. He abandoned his work and made towards the doors of his study, peaking towards the direction of his stair railings that overlooked the first floor of his home.
More of the conversation became apparent, and Taehyung instantly identified it sounded more like a negatively charged argument than a conversation. His eyebrows furrowed the more he listened, knowing it was bad manners to eavesdrop though finding himself doing so anyways.
“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad’s money. You know next to nothing about business or the company...” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot to the sky, realizing you were speaking to your mother; the same woman you explicitly expressed was to be avoided at all costs and even winced at the mention of.
He couldn’t forget that from the first time he met you.
“...Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother. ” The crudeness in your mother’s voice was already indicative of your ill relationship, the harshness sounding like second nature.
Taehyung grimaced.
“...All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi...” Yoongi? As in your brother, Min Yoongi? Taehyung only loosely recalled Min Yoongi lived and worked in the States, where he headed your father’s lucrative faction there.
He’d only met the mellow, though diligent man a couple times before.
“...I would never do that to my husband.” Despite the intense situation, Taehyung felt the slightest tinge of pride hearing you refer to him as your husband.
“You wouldn’t do that to your husband? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?”
Oh fuck, Taehyung thought. This isn’t going anywhere good.
“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat?...”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Taehyung became alarmed, silently drawing his index finger and thumb over his lips in frustration. You didn’t need to hear this, it was complete bullshit. Your situation with him was different, it was forced and coerced. Taehyung could tell you were someone who truly didn't favour using someone else’s money, and knew you were trying your damn hardest to adjust to the idea itself having to spend your life with him.
He rushed out into the hallway where he began pacing, trying his hardest to contain himself and hope that you wouldn’t take your mother’s words to heart. Was this why you were so adamant about the fucking card? Because you had to hear shit like this from your mother?
This was only going to undo the work he’d successfully laid out, thinking it would erase any convincing he had done about his money and what’s his is yours. This was bad news, he didn’t want you thinking any of your mother’s words were true.
They simply weren’t.
“Leave my house, this instance.”
“What did you say to me?”
“I said get out! I don’t ever want to see you again!”
Taehyung was becoming anxious, the argument was clearly escalating and he felt uneasy, an incessant feeling bothering his chest.
There it was again, that same sense of protection he felt when he saw you practically shaking talking to that Kisoo guy. He didn't understand why it manifested, or why he felt it so emphatically. All he knew was after hearing the way your voice nearly cracked, unstable and troubled as you grew more emotional, he felt the strong feeling to oddly.. rescue you?
It’s like he wanted to bolt down the stairs, physically stand in between the argument and force your mother out of the house, all while trying to persuade you what she said wasn't true.
Why did he feel this way? This was none of his damn business, had absolutely nothing to do with him yet if it weren't for half the mind he had, he could’ve found himself racing down the stairs to defend you.
Taehyung shivered at the thought, shaking it off.
“... you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!”
“I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats...”
And not long after he heard the slap, evidently hard and painful in just it’s sound. Taehyung immediately froze in his tracks, halting his pacing as worry blossomed in his chest. He prodded over to hide against the edge of the wall that connected to his staircase, able to peak at the sight of both you and your mother stood before the front foyer.
Taehyung felt pissed within seconds, again unable to decipher why he felt the need to protect you. Though what he did know was that he felt bothered, never wanted anyone to hurt you and he hated the very thought of it.
Maybe it was because of his considerate personality again, or maybe it really was because of you.
What made Taehyung grow even angrier, though, was the way you reacted, listening to you dub this as something that happened often, and he was uber pissed now.
You didn’t fucking deserve that at all.
It took him no time to understand your apprehension and natural disliking for your mother, wanting himself to never have to converse with her. He would most likely be rude and curt, replaying the same vile words she really had the nerve to say to her own daughter. Scratch that, his wife.
Yeah, Taehyung thought. My wife shouldn’t be treated like this.
He knew it was wrong, impolite of him to assume and judge a person so openly based on their cover, though Taehyung could tell these were your mother’s true colours, and any other persona she assumed would only be a farce.
Taehyung watched as you simply shoved your mother out of the house, shutting the door only to lean against it and allow the tears you’d hidden to fall down your cheeks. Taehyung turned his back and leaned against the wall, concealing himself to give you privacy.
He knew it was already rude to have eavesdropped, even ruder to look on at such a vulnerable moment. It was rude because he wouldn’t even be able to comfort you, only watch as a dumb-founded bystander; rendered useless because it wasn’t his place to console you.
He knew nothing about you.
He really didn’t know your situation, the relationship you had with your mother. He couldn’t step on your toes and give you advice as if he knew you, nor supply you with words that would make you feel better; contemplating he’d possibly never be able to.
He wasn’t your remedy, he wasn’t your muse, just a man you were forced to marry and now have to live with. A man who stripped you of your independence, ruined your life all just by his mere existence.
And so Taehyung found even more reasons to not rush to you, simply leave you on your own knowing he was partly the reason for your pain, your suffering. That your mother only said such things because of him, that she only insulted you because of him.
So he found himself retreating, walking carefully back to his study to mind his own business and continue his work, complete it as though nothing happened.
But as each step seemed to grow longer, heavier, he found himself unable to retreat. Unable to function knowing you were probably hurting, unable to ignore you and so blatantly turn his back on you.
So in a hasty, irrational decision, Taehyung found himself turning on his heel and rushing towards the staircase.
You continued to sob quietly, thinking if you just let it all out now, cried just about hard enough all the sorrow would leave your body. So that’s what you did, bit your lips to contain the aching feeling in your chest as your throat seemed to constrict, swallowing all your feelings down in an attempt to poorly control them.
You were in your own world, the sink’s water masking any noise behind you, and so when somebody’s hand reached out to rest against your shoulder, you were completely startled. You jumped, quickly shutting the water in a flash and refusing to look back at the culprit to save your pride.
Whoever it was, they couldn’t see you like this.
Though when you heard his dulcet, deep voice calling your name, you knew exactly who it was.
“Y/N?”
You straightened yourself up, breathing out the emotions ravaging your chest and stabilizing your voice to address him. “Hey, Taehyung. What um.. what are you doing here?”
Taehyung could hear your solemn attempt to cover everything up, feeling your sense of embarrassment practically fill the air.
“Nothing, just.. wanted to see you.” Taehyung said, unsure of how to approach this.
“You’re probably busy. You should go back to work.” You tried hard to sound okay while you practically swallowed back tears, clutching the counter of the sink.
“It’s alright, not important.” Taehyung waved it off, letting his hard remain on your shoulder seeing you didn’t reject him. A beat of silence lingered until he spoke again.
“Can you look at me, Y/N?” There was no pressure in his voice, just the same soft consideration you’d heard at the hotel suite a couple nights ago.
And you hated it, hated that it made you want to give in, want to so easily follow his request and bare to him whatever he wanted.
Until your last braincell kicked in.
“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry if I interrupted your work. Please go back to your study.” You voiced just barely above a shaky tone, trying your absolute hardest to sound just fine, seem okay. But the more Taehyung spoke, the more you felt your defense mechanisms slowly coming undone.
And you knew he knew.
“I wasn't interrupted.” He stated normally, his voice natural and yet he sounded so.. comforting? He was simply responding to you and yet his voice and presence seemed to soothe the sharp ache in your chest.
It was fucking poetic.
“I’m sure I did, Taehyung. Just please, return to your work.”
“I don’t need to, Y/N, I can stay here.” He was firm as he stood behind you, measly hand against your shoulder and his usually intimidating, towering figure reassuring.
It was odd.
“You shouldn’t. Just go back, Taehyung.” You attempted to voice with more strength, trying to blink tears away and it didn’t convince Taehyung in the slightest.
“I don’t want to. Look at me first.” His voice sounded calm, and it was really like honey. Thick yet sweet, so deep and yet it’s cadence harboured the ability to put anyone at ease.
You shut your eyes tightly, wiping at them hastily to rid any tears as you sniffled and turned around. You were met by his face that slightly softened at the sight of you, eyes seeming to melt as they swirled with consideration, different from his usually unreadable expression.
“See, I’m fine. You can go back to work.” You plastered a smile on, trying to stand a little more confidently, though Taehyung didn’t budge.
He only remained, gazing at the features of your face as he seemed to drape his own with a small sense of sadness, like he was upset, maybe even hurt? It was slight, though identifiable. It left you quite speechless, thinking it was all just part of your imagination.
It couldn’t be real.
But it exactly was as Taehyung’s large hand came up to gently touch the cheek your mother slapped. You didn’t realize it hurt more than it should’ve when you felt a sharp sting at his touch, wincing.
You registered there was probably a visible mark and grew too vulnerable, downright embarrassed for your liking and so you deflected him, smacking his hand away from your face as you looked off to the side.
“I’m fine, Taehyung.” You declared, and Taehyung didn’t know how to react as his hand came off you, feeling a bit disheartened. He simply wanted to help, and he didn’t want to leave without doing so.
So he still looked at you, eyes possibly growing sympathetic though it could’ve been a figment of your imagination again.
“You didn’t deserve that.” He voiced soft in sound, though resolute in nature.
Taehyung was having trouble choosing what he could say without overstepping, invading a part of you he probably shouldn’t.
“I didn’t ask for a pity party, Taehyung. Go back to work.” You said with a more snippy tone than you planned, though found it befitting of your current emotions nonetheless.
“I’m not pitying. I’m..” Taehyung struggled for a word until you answered.
“What, caring?” You scoffed, “Please, Taehyung, you don’t have to care like my real husband, it’s only on paper-”
“But I am your real husband.” Taehyung emphasized, his serious eyes meeting yours. “It’s on paper and in real life, so I think I’m allowed to care.” Taehyung retorted with narrowed eyes finding he liked that sentence, liked what it had to convey because it was damn true.
Taehyung decided on reaching for your arms to drive his point home, though watched as you again, naturally retracted from him. You still seemed to refuse him, didn’t see him in a good enough light to not cower away.
And he still fucking hated it.
Taehyung went for it anyway and gripped your arms when you began to draw away, catching you. The action nearly demanded you look into his eyes, and found yourself doing exactly so.
“Y/N, first, don’t be scared of me, please?” His eyes grew soft. “I seriously-I really hate it. I would never..” Taehyung trailed as his vision fell to the side of your face, eyes seeming to reflect concern.
You were completely surprised, watching him unmask a plethora of emotion you didn't think he’d so candidly reveal.
Taehyung brought his hand to brush your slightly swollen cheek, continuing. “I would never do this, do anything to scare you. I just wouldn’t.” Taehyung was emphatic and genuine, gently touching the fresh wound on the apple of your cheek.
“I.. know that, Taehyung.” You again felt that same urge to touch his hand that touched you, but you decided against it. “Though I don’t need your pity. This doesn’t hurt, don’t break a sweat about it, please.” You were trying to turn away from his hold but Taehyung didn’t let go, maintaining you in his hands.
“It’s not pity, Y/N. It’s sympathy. This bothers me, okay?”
“I don’t need it. I’ve got myself-”
“But you’re not alone.” Taehyung suddenly stated seriously, tone permeating the air and you just about froze. You only looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to decipher what he was trying to say.
“You’re not.. alone, okay? You have me.” He spoke as though he was trying to convey a meaningful message, trying to mark his own words. “In whatever way... you have me.” It was a hesitant claim, but it felt just like when he’d made his promise to you at the altar.
And suddenly you found yourself giving in, sighing as you registered this was all pretty much an elaborate reflection of the lesson you learned not so long ago. You and Taehyung are married now, and no matter how that status manifested itself, you had to accept what came with it.
Especially if it meant him.
“Okay.” You replied simply, multiple emotions masked by the plain word.
Taehyung looked at you a little surprised you’d actually accepted that, but broke into a genuine grin you hadn’t really seen before.
And you really did like the way he smiled.
He made you want to smile too, though as your facial muscles worked for the grin your cheek stung, wincing as a result. Taehyung exclaimed within a matter of seconds. “Ah, don’t move.” He cautioned, smiling a little when you chuckled at his overreaction. “Don’t worry, Taehyung. It’s alright.”
“Alright, my foot.” Taehyung joked, bending down to inspect your wound closer than you expected, and you hid the feeling that shot through you because of his proximity with a nervous laugh, causing you to wince again.
“Hey, what did I say?” Taehyung chastised you lightly, lips in a straight line as he shook his head disapprovingly. “C’mon, let’s treat this.”
You immediately whined, feeling too lazy to get something so small and insignificant treated. “Taehyung, it’s not even that bad, why?” You pouted.
“Cause it’ll leave a mark on your pretty face.” Taehyung smiled innocently, not even caring about the effect it left on you as he found your hand and tugged you along to the second floor. Your eyes only remained widened, never letting up the surprise that took you.
Did he just call you pretty?
You let Taehyung lead you to your master bathroom, where he situated you by the counter and shuffled around for his first-aid kit. He finally retrieved the box, dabbing some alcohol onto a cotton swab and bringing it to your face.
Taehyung just about performed the action until he began struggling bending to your height, wanting to carefully apply the alcohol. So he tried different angles and maneuvered himself around, all coming up useless. “God, why do you have to be so small?” Taehyung huffed under his breath as he stood to his full height, contemplating how he’d accomplish this.
“I’m not small, you’re just really-” You were about to complete your sentence until Taehyung’s hands suddenly grabbed your waist, lifting you in a single breath and propping you up onto the bathroom counter. You would’ve exclaimed, maybe protest though believed it would’ve made the heat in your face so much more apparent.
“That’s better.” He grinned, biting back a chuckle at your flushed face and widened eyes.
Those fucking eyes.
Taehyung then found it easier to apply what he needed, cleaning up the wound precariously before dabbing on some ointment to avoid any scarring, only missing a bandage to place on your cheek. Taehyung searched for one in his kit and drawers, though came up empty-handed. He became puzzled as to where he put his bandages, placing his hands in his pockets to think until he felt the familiar scratch of a wrapper.
He furrowed his eyebrows at first until he figured exactly what it was.
And he suppressed a stupid grin.
Taehyung pulled out the wrapper and watched as you avoided eye contact with him, cheeks still clearly warm as you swung your legs on the counter in anticipation of him.
Cute, he thought.
He ripped the wrapper, chucking the garbage aside as he drew close to your face. His breath suddenly fanned you, mere inches from your face with his lips so proximal you were stupidly remembering your kiss from a couple days ago.
He was just so close. So close that you could actually discern he had this pretty little mole on his cheek, even one just underneath his eye, lining his lash line. You smiled realizing he had such unique details, even seeing he had a mono-lid and a double eyelid. Then came his obvious features, his plushy, pink lips, his chocolate eyes, his soft hair and sculpted face structure. It made you want to hide your own face out of near insecurity.
He was just so beautiful.
You watched him as he focused on you, trying to calm down your oddly racing heart, feeling the sensation of his closeness shoot through your body. He smoothed the bandage over your cheek and drew away far too earlier than you wanted.
“There. Apply something before putting a bandage on, right?” He cocked an eyebrow and looked at you knowingly, crossing his arms.
You immediately smiled at the sentiment, realizing it’s the same line you said to him during your first exchange, and you felt your heart just slightly, slightly flutter at the thought he remembered.
“Right.”
It had been a week since that incident.
Taehyung and yourself had assumed your regular lives, having to drudge back to work after a few days off.
Your mother’s words still lingered around in your head, spoiling your mood here and there though assuming the ever-so healthy manner of simply pushing the mentally detrimental thoughts away, distracting yourself with work.
You wish you could detail anymore interactions with Taehyung, though they were scarce with how rarely you saw each other. You both either just missed each other, were too busy to pay attention or simply came home too late. Even sleeping together was hit or miss, usually either of you crawling into bed earlier than the other with no real exchanges.
You could say it made you feel just a little sad, though not entirely considering you two were genuinely busy people, Taehyung an even busier person.
That all came to a full stop though one Friday morning, you were seated by the island and staring at your most recent design for a building, iPad pen twirling in hand. You were sipping on coffee when Taehyung pulled out a chair and suddenly startled you, coffee almost spilling.
“Jheez,” you huffed, “you scared me.”
“Sorry, you were just really focused.” Taehyung apologized as he placed his own iPad down, reading away.
It’d been like this the whole week, you either designing and leading projects at your own job with Taehyung the ever-busy CEO at his own company, causing you both to often sit in each other’s presence though never take your eyes off your screens.
“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Taehyung suddenly perked up, stopping his scrolling.
“Hm?” You looked up.
“I should’ve told you this sooner, but we have to attend a gala tonight.” Taehyung grimaced at how sudden this seemed, arms crossed as he leaned on the counter.
Did the action really have to make his biceps pop?
Anyway, you were nearly spitting out your drink for the umpteenth time because of Taehyung, eyes blown out at his abrupt news.
“Wh-what did you just say? Tonight?”
“Yeah, one of friends’ companies. 25th anniversary since establishment.” Taehyung went to bite a piece of his toast with strawberry jam.
You noticed he liked strawberries and didn’t like bread crust, making you want to smile sometimes at the child-like charm he hid underneath his intimidating persona. “They’re holding a huge gala and he’s one of my best friends, we’ll have to attend.”
You eventually came to understanding him, trying to wrap your head around having to suddenly attend such a high-end event.
“This event is also going to be our first public appearance together. It’s important.” Taehyung stressed, back to scrolling through his iPad.
“That’s alright. I don’t mind going, it’s just...I don’t think I even have a dress for a gala.” You mentally sifted through your own wardrobe, coming up short once you realized you haven’t been to an extravagant event like that since you were a teenager.
“I know, I bought one for you.”
You should really stop drinking beverages around Taehyung because you can never seem to keep them in your damn mouth. “You bought one? Taehyung..” You whined. “What did I say about giving me things?”
“Hey, what did I say about giving you things?” He scolded you lightly. “I give you things simply because I want to.”
You pouted. “Still, you don’t even know my size, when did you even have time?”
“That doesn’t matter. It’ll fit you, don’t worry.” Taehyung sent a smile as he deflected your question and returned to his iPad, not wanting to reveal that he’d secretly referred to your other dresses in your shared closet for your correct measurements.
“But it probably wasted your time. I should’ve gone out and bought it myself.” You felt guilty, realizing it probably made him compromise his work.
“It wasn’t a waste of time.” Taehyung countered, not really liking how you considered yourself not worthy of spending time on.
“I- thank you.” You blurted out before his statement could effect you. “When does the event begin?”
“7. You should try getting off work early to get ready.” Taehyung suggested, sipping his tea as he looked at you.
“Oh God, I’m gonna have to doll myself up. I haven’t done that in ages.” You held a hand to your mouth, trying to digest the fact you’d probably have to look like a trophy wife.
“I could get you a makeup artist and hair stylist.” Taehyung offered.
“No, it’s okay. I think I’ll be fine. I just haven’t been to a gala in a long time.” You felt surprised about the fact yourself. “I’m gonna have to meet so many people.”
“You will, but I’ll be there.” Taehyung assured, glancing up at you.
“Of course, but you won’t be with me the entire night. I’ll have to brush up on my rich people skills.” You blew a raspberry, knowing you had great interpersonal skills but just didn’t like acting so fake all the time.
“I won’t leave, just stick with me the whole night.” Taehyung stated as he absentmindedly held his index finger to his lips reading an email, quite goddamn illegally if you had to say so yourself.
“I will.” You confirmed, erasing at a line on your iPad. “Will you come home early too?”
Taehyung clicked his tongue disappointingly. “I will but just barely on time. Friday’s mean meetings for me, so I can’t leave early. I’ll get ready at work, come back inside the house to get you.”
“Okay.” You’re not sure why you felt suddenly sad he wouldn’t be home earlier. Maybe it was just the usual feeling of not wanting to be alone, because God forbid you actually started getting used to Taehyung’s presence.
Taehyung rose from his seat and cast his iPad to the side, sliding on his suit jacket as he glanced at his watch, checking the time. You noticed yourself and flashed your vision to your iPad, gawking at the time and realizing you could be late.
“Oh shit, I have to go.”
“Me too, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Taehyung confirmed as he made his way to the front door, fixing his sleeve. You propped off your own seat and began walking towards the stairs, just about ascending until Taehyung suddenly called your name.
“Y/N!” He peeked out from the front door, seconds from leaving.
“Yes?”
“I hope you like the colour, it’s one of my favourites.” Taehyung smiled sweetly, sending his last farewell before he dashed out of the house.
Your eyebrows shot up and practically gawked, immediately running up the stairs thinking of where to find this dress. He had to have hidden it from you considering he’s been doing so ever since he mysteriously bought it.
You instinctively rushed into your shared bedroom to grab a scrunchy for the day, all distracted until you caught sight of a white box adorned with a black bow sitting atop your bed.
Your eyes went wide just reading the infamous label.
Chanel.
You had to physically keep from flooring yourself, in disbelief he’d purchased you a Chanel dress. You were even more fearful to uncover it, the information of him buying it himself raking your brain.
It was even his favourite colour, nearly swooning at the fact he chose for you to wear his favourite colour. So you made your way over to the box hesitantly, untying the ribbon and casting the lid aside cautiously, only to audibly gasp.
Your eyes fell to a ruby red dress with a delicate V neckline, completely blown away he chose such a bold colour for you to wear.
You carefully grabbed the dress to take it out of its box, revealing more to discover it was a floor-length gown. It produced a small train though lifted in the front to reveal the shoes you’d wear, the skirt of plain, thick fabric until you saw the torso area; light beading expanding from the stomach area eventually leading into the skirt.
Shock wasn’t even the correct word to use, you were stunned, completely taken by his choice. The dress was simply gorgeous, beautiful in its own right and you were almost too afraid to wear it.
Nonetheless, this event was important to Taehyung, so you took a deep breath, tucked the dress back into its box and mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead.
It was bordering 6:30 now.
You’d successfully left work early, around the 2 o’clock mark to come home and indulge in a 4 hour self-care routine. It’d seriously been too long since you last attended an event similar to this, grand in size and visited by at least a hundred people.
It reminded you of your engagement party, though not entirely since there would paparazzi and would be your first real appearance with Taehyung ever since your wedding.
And quite frankly, you really wanted look better than you did then. You labelled it pretty much a disaster since you were a catatonic mess regretting all her life choices, probably looking unappealing in all your photos.
Along with knowing the impact Taehyung has, not only in the business world but in general also left you wanting to up your game. You were his wife now, and that came with a high amount of scrutiny and criticism having nabbed one of the most eligible bachelor’s in Korea.
You’d already given up ever checking any articles and avoided social media, knowing that there would be inevitably nasty and judgmental comments. This night was important though, where you’d flank him as the women he’s so-called ‘in love with’ or the ‘love of his life’.
It also dawned on you Taehyung in fact had a high-valued reputation to uphold, and so did you as his wife.
So as you stood before the mirror in the walk-in closet, inspecting your dress, you contemplated how you’d survive this night, how you would act as the perfect, most suitable wife to Taehyung.
You really wanted to hide your face out of how dolled up you looked; your makeup was on the elegant side, not heavy but brushed up to look soft, completed with red lipstick that matched your dress and hair set around your face in loose waves.
The dress looked almost embarrassingly good on you, Taehyung somehow having chosen the right sized dress as it hugged your every curve right, accentuating the right parts of your body and even the V neckline not dipping too low, but showing quite the generous amount of skin.
You couldn’t stop blushing at all.
Taehyung had finally arrived at the house, rushing inside quickly registering he was cutting the time close. “Y/N! I’m home!” he called for you, quickly checking his appearance in a mirror as he smoothed pieces of his parted hair, curling just before his eyes and revealing some forehead.
“I’m in our room!”
He approved his own look in the mirror and jogged up the stairs, mentally preparing himself before he’d have to see you in the dress he chose, almost excited about it.
He’d simply loved it at first sight, and couldn’t stop pondering what the striking colour would look like on you. So as Taehyung entered your bedroom, he became confused finding it empty. He then ventured further inside, catching sight of the ajar closet door and light beaming through.
He sauntered over carefully, peeking inside and Taehyung’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, almost stupidly.
His eyes fell to you standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting as you looked at yourself in the dress with the back of it undone.
And Taehyung had never seen anything more pretty in his life.
He was speechless for the umpteenth time because of you, not even knowing how to begin a sentence because he might sound like a second grader if he did. So all Taehyung could muster up the literacy to say was “Wow.”
You turned around instantly, eyes looking as though you were a deer caught in headlights. Taehyung’s eyes widened even more peering at the elegant front, jaw almost slack as he scanned over your body.
“T-Taehyung.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Taehyung still seemed to be struggling a little, eyes glued to you until he cleared his throat and looked away. “Um, yeah?”
“S-sorry, but.. could you actually..?” And you did it again, angling your back towards Taehyung to call to the zipper of your dress. You really couldn’t try zipping it yourself, which left it sitting comfortably just at your lower back, your skin exposed to Taehyung.
You could visibly see Taehyung flash his eyes to your skin until he looked elsewhere, nodding as he licked his lips. “Sure.”
You watched him near you, his face blank as he took a handful of your hair and softly placed in front of you. He then brought his hand against your side to hold you in place, his other working for the zipper. It was another case of his rather hot breath fanning your back, almost teasingly zipping up your dress by simple inches.
He was close again, closer than he’s been in a week and you sincerely hated it always affected you in some way. It made your chest flutter, suck in a breath you didn’t even need to hold in. You relaxed when Taehyung finally finished, his hands gripping your arms from behind as he looked at you through the mirror.
And for some odd reason, he liked how your heights contrasted each other.
He had the slightest hint of a smile, eyes seeming to gleam with something you couldn’t quite decipher.
“You look pretty.” He said, gazing at you through the reflection and you had to physically stop from beaming like an idiot. Your chest fills with butterflies, face collecting with heat at his compliment.
How could an Adonis like him call you pretty?
You bit your lip, gazing up at his taller, impeccably dressed reflection as you admired him, his every feature crafted to a degree of perfection that left you in awe.
“You look really handsome.” You complimented, watching his lips just about curve into a smile that met his eyes, and you wish he didn’t have to look so handsome when he smiled too.
“Thank you.” He voiced before turning you around by your arms to face him. “Make sure you wear a coat tonight, it’s cold.” He informed, you nodding until your quick eyes spotted his tie loosened by just a centimeter, throwing you off.
“Oh, your tie.” You exclaimed quietly, reaching for it without a thought and pushing it upwards, angling it to perfection. Taehyung suddenly froze, unexpecting of you doing such a thing and so proximal his nose flooded with your perfume, liking the scent.
Peonies.
He tensed with an unknown feeling until your gazes locked on each other, simply looking to look while your hands remained on his tie. He realized more than a second passed and Taehyung scrambled for something to say, sputtering.
“I’ll uh.. I’ll be waiting out front.” He assured as he stepped away, exiting the room quickly and leaving you to your lonesome.
This was gonna be one hell of a night, you thought.
“Remember, there’s going to be a lot of cameras and people here. We’ll really need to act like a couple.” Taehyung sat beside you in the back of an Escalade, manspreading in all his glory and you were sincerely glad he couldn’t read your mind.
“Got it, let’s give em’ a show.” You cheered with your little fists, determined as the car arrived at the lavish venue.
“Yeah, let’s do it.” Taehyung mimicked your action. “Don’t worry about getting nervous, I’m there.” He assured for good measure, gauging your affirmation.
You nodded as you took a deep breath, smoothing over your dress and fixing your hair. Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into you, speaking near your ear. “I’ll get out first and open the door for you, wait here.” You tensed at the action before nodding again, Taehyung making his way out the car.
He then opened your door as promised within seconds, greeting you with a warm smile as he held out his hand for you. You grinned back at him affectionately as you took it, adjusting your dress to step onto the concrete.
You were met by dozens of camera flashes and a yelling crowd, shouting various things you couldn’t quite make out. You were almost distracted by it and felt a small sense of anxiety creep up you, until Taehyung pulled you flush against his side, hand curving around your waist.
You smiled up at him in accordance, and he beamed back as he walked you two down the carpet leading into the venue, casually ignoring all the noise and people.
Taehyung guided you inside safely to where you were welcomed by a beautiful looking hall, pristine and extremely elegant. It was surely fitting for a grand gala. Your eyes caught a small crowd of photographers in the foyer snapping photos at a certain wall with a backdrop, curiosity dawning on you as Taehyung led you towards the coat check.
“What’s happening there?” You pointed towards the scene.
“Oh, exclusive press.” He snuck a look, stripping off his coat. “They’re the ones I was talking about, they’re gonna take pictures of us.” Taehyung answered distracted as he retrieved your coat and gave both to the coat checker, smiling a thank you.
You didn’t even have time to really respond as Taehyung dragged you to the very scene, the pair of you next to have photos taken. You tried to process the whole thing as he walked you over, mentally preparing to look your best until Taehyung suddenly whispered lowly in your ear again.
And again, it sent shivers down your spine.
“Just smile and hold me, okay?” Your chest fluttered for an odd reason, nodding back to him as he brought you in front of the line of photographers.
You stayed true to your promise and tucked an arm around his torso as the other draped his chest, closest to him as you could. Taehyung almost settled next to you until he felt something at his feet, noticing he was nearly stepping on your gown.
He broke away from you, unexpectedly bending down to catch the skirt of your dress and delicately fix it behind you. You heard the hushed exclamations of the photographers, most of them doting on his considerate act as you just about protested, though suddenly remembered Taehyung’s words from today.
It was probably better to stay silent.
So you simply smiled as you watched Taehyung adjust your dress, feeling a warm sensation spread across your chest when he returned even though it most likely was for show, his hands coming back on you.
This time you didn’t try to suppress anything, allowing some of your feelings to manifest into a real smile, remembering you were to appear as a couple anyway.
And whether or not there was some truth to your expressions, was anyone really keeping track?
You two began posing for the photographers, smiling in all directions and clutching onto each other closely. You occasionally tried different angles to look better, everything going smoothly until you heard someone shout out, eyes widening as a result.
“Kiss her!”
It wasn’t long before the other photographers began agreeing, encouraging Taehyung to kiss you and you had no clue how he would react. You were slightly biting your lip as you were occupied avoiding eye contact, that was until Taehyung quietly called you.
“Y/N, look at me.”
“Hm?” You instinctively responded and looked up at him, completely taken by surprise when Taehyung suddenly planted a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes visibly went wider, only his chest to stare at until he eventually disconnected.
He returned his eyes to you and grinned at your wide-eyed reaction, suddenly reminding you. “Smile,” he encouraged with the flash of his own boxy grin, wanting to see you smile.
And it damn well worked.
Taehyung was right about the size of this gala.
Huge.
It was grand, the entire hall seeming to be spat right out of a castle with about a hundred fancy-looking people inside. You thought it would’ve been uninteresting and difficult to communicate with others tonight and put on your best fake smile, though the night’s atmosphere amassed with champagne, good food and great conversationalists left you in a better mood than you expected.
It was actually quite fun, finding yourself genuinely conversing with the people Taehyung dragged you to meet, keeping to your promise of staying right by his side the whole night, and he kept his, never having left you.
You’d met various people, having gotten familiar to Taehyung’s high-status world of business and relations. Long story short, Taehyung knew a lot of people, and you were surprised at how extroverted he suddenly seemed.
He was practically a social butterfly, not having forgotten a single name of who he spoke to along with somehow remembering personal details about their lives. It left you impressed, joining along with his light-hearted conversation with your own extrovert tendencies.
Everyone you’d met had been nice so far, but by far the most amusing people you’d met had to have been Taehyung’s 5 best friends, the same ones you’d seen in his photographs.
“Y/N, this is Kim Namjoon and Seokjin, they’re brothers.”
Both tall and quite frankly broad men greeted you warmly, one of them having a nice dimply smile while the other was far too handsome to be looked at for free.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They said after another, reaching out to shake your hand. “We’re co-CEOs of one of Korea’s largest private airline.” Namjoon of the two informed.
“Likewise. And wow, that’s impressive.” You complimented. “Might I also say, you’re both.. tall.” You had to almost crane your neck to meet their eyes, thankful for the heels you were wearing as the group laughed at your remark.
“Perhaps, though you’re quite short yourself, Y/N.” Seokijn commented light-heartedly, causing you to playfully pout and retort him. “Oh c’mon, I hear that from Taehyung already, not you too.” You giggled, absentmindedly leaning into Taehyung as he tensed, your body pressing into his.
“It’s cause Taehyung likes short girls, teasing means he likes you.” A built looking man with longer hair suddenly joked, nudging Taehyung with his elbow.
“Shut up, Jungkook. I was gonna give you a proper introduction, not anymore.” Taehyung scolded, though Jungkook persisted.
“Well, you just said my name, that’s already half the intro.” Jungkook then gently took your hand, placing a chaste kiss against the back of it you didn’t expect at all.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Korea’s largest game development company.” Jungkook sent you a kind smile and it was hard to not compare him to a bunny, his teeth reminding you of one.
“Yah, don’t do that” Taehyung swatted Jungkook’s hand away, protesting disapprovingly.
“Woah, did Taehyung just get jealous?” Namjoon inquired shocked.
“Somebody get their phone out, we’ll need evidence I didn’t hit him first.” Jungkook held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Jungkook, the only thing we’re finding in our phones is videos of you nibbling on carrots.” Taehyung quipped and it made the group chortle, yourself speaking up at the mention of a rabbit.
“Actually, I was thinking you resemble a bunny.” You simply wanted to voice an observation, though it sent the whole group into a frenzy.
“See Jungkook! Other people notice it too!” A man you hadn’t been introduced to yet suddenly burst out, though you could automatically tell he gave off this radiant energy that was infectious.
He almost felt like the sun.
“Whatever, Hoseok, you’re like a squirrel.” Jungkook countered and you digested the man’s name for information.
“And you’re a rabbit, you better buy me what we wagered.” Hoseok scolded from what you could assume, was the younger of the two.
“Wagered? I don’t remember anything about that.” Jungkook feigned innocence as he looked off to the side.
“Jungkook, we were all there that day, you owe Hoseok a vending machine.” Namjoon spoke up, laughing through the remark.
“Guys. Y/N is literally right here, we didn’t even introduce ourselves properly.” A man with a fairly sweet voice interjected. He had such soft visuals, almost similar to an angel if you wanted to be honest.
He then looked to you with a sweet smile, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Park Jimin, CEO of Park Hotels & Resorts”
“This is his event.” Taehyung informed.
“Ohh, nice to meet you!” You perked up, his aura making you feel all comfortable and giggly, there was just something about his bubbly energy.
The man named Hoseok then extended his hand, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jung Hoseok. Sorry for the late introduction, but I basically own a bunch of famous clubs across Korea.” He laughed all dimply and warm, and he really did remind you of the sun.
“Oh wow, hopefully we’ll get to visit sometime! Clubs are so fun.” You lit up, all excited about a good club scene until Taehyung ruined your fun.
“Nuh uh, not after your little drunk scene at our engagement party.” Taehyung looked down at you and chastised.
“Taehyung, it wasn’t even that much. Don’t be dramatic.” You scolded him back.
“Alright Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, I almost had to carry you.”
“I was walking just fine last time I remembered.” You crossed your arms and feigned innocence, Taehyung growing scandalized.
“Oh really, now?” He cocked an eyebrow, just about to continue until Namjoon interjected. “Looks like married life’s been treating you guys well.”
“Of course, they look practically in love.” Hoseok beamed sarcastically, gesturing towards you both.
“C’mon, Taehyung, tell us what you love about her. Let’s see the simping.” Jungkook playfully taunted Taehyung, egging him on.
“Shut up. You all already know our marriage isn’t real.” Taehyung rebutted the younger man, eyes narrowed.
You were taken aback, eyes flashing to Taehyung. “They know?”
“Of course they do, your best friend knows too, doesn’t she?” Taehyung was referring to Hana, and you acquiesced realizing he had a point.
“You know, you guys say it’s a fake marriage but you look pretty close to me.” Jimin pointed towards Taehyung’s arm still hugging around your waist, causing you both to realize and promptly disconnect.
“No, we aren’t.” You and Taehyung retorted at the same time, vision snapping to each other with shocked eyes.
“Oh c’mon, Tae, you’re really gonna say about your wife?” Seokjin teased him, playful lilt to his tone.
“Yeah, Taehyung, just look at her, how aren’t you whipped already?” Jungkook remarked as he gestured towards you, feeling shy as your feet shuffled.
“I’m not answering that.” Taehyung bit back with an irritated tone, folding his arms as he broke eye contact with the group.
You decided to lighten the mood. “Guys, please, the only thing Taehyung’s whipped for is his company.” You joked, and despite the small sense of hurt saying that sentence, you felt joy making the men suddenly laugh so loudly.
Taehyung’s shy and embarrassed expression was even more priceless.
“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re seriously the perfect match for him.” Hoseok added on as he laughed and you couldn’t help but bite back a smile, not knowing what he meant by that though taking it as a compliment.
“Alright guys, remember we had a mission: operation make-Taehyung-and-Y/N’s-marriage-seem-real-as-fuck.” Jungkook suddenly put on the theatrics and halted the group, changing the conversation.
“Oh yeah, we had a whole plan, didn’t we?” Jimin remembered.
“Yup. Gotta prepare them for nosey press and annoying relatives. We should start with questions they’d get asked. Make it like a fake interview or something.” Namjoon suggested, leading along the others as he pretended to hold a microphone.
“You’re all some of the richest men in Seoul yet you’re acting like children. I don’t know you people.” Taehyung tried waving the men off while you couldn’t help but laugh, finding them the most fun people you’ve encountered.
Childish or not, they were completely unexpected of what you thought a group of CEOs. They didn’t live up to the cliché uptight and uber sophisticated stereotype, rather open and acted however they chose.
It was refreshing.
“It’s cause we’re friends with you, Taehyung.” Hoseok shot back and it made everyone snicker.
“I got it. Let’s ask them to spill some details about each other only they’d know. Someone’s bound to ask that.” Seokjin reasoned, gauging agreeance from the others.
“Oh my God, you guys already know our marriage is fake. Why would you make this up?” You asked through a giggle, still finding the situation comical.
“Sorry Mrs. Kim, but that’s precisely why, and I’m afraid we don’t know what you mean by ‘fake’. Now tell the good press something about Mr. Kim we don’t know.” Jungkook began the skit as he held his fake microphone towards you, the others joining in as though imitating paparazzi.
“Alright, this is gonna be exclusive, pens ready?” You decided to join them, and they all nodded in confirmation as Taehyung flashed his eyes to you, unprepared for you to play along.
“Mr. Kim is quite something.” You addressed him formally for effect. “He acts all mysterious and cool, but he’s actually just a cuddler who likes tea and cuts the crusts off his bread.” You relayed with a wide grin, all of them suddenly exclaiming and reacting like a high schooler has just confessed the name of their crush.
“Oh my God, Tae, seriously? Bread crusts? What are you, like, 3?” Seokjin teased.
“Hyung, your ears literally turn red when people give you attention. Are you 3?” Taehyung retorted and it only elicited more noise from the group, Seokjin exclaiming defensively and Taehyung bringing a hand up to his forehead, sighing.
“Guys! Okay, let’s get some real answers here. We gotta know what Y/N would say if someone asked her.. maybe some things she likes about Taehyung. Let’s hear it.” Jimin got everyone back on track, attention on you.
You smiled nervously and flashed a look towards Taehyung, who still had this arms folded and vision looking off to the side, ignoring the entire situation before him.
You could tell he was pissed with the way his jaw locked, though the fact that he wasn’t paying attention made you a little more confident.
Taehyung wasn’t exactly pissed, though if he could bonk all his friends on the head a few times he would. He knew teasing and jokes were all common within the group, he just didn’t expect to be the sole target tonight, and so he decided to smoothly neglect the conversation altogether.
He was succeeding, not expecting you to answer their question seriously until Taehyung suddenly heard you speak up, surprised eyes flickering to you.
“Hmm, if I had to say..” You were hesitant, Taehyung shocked you were even answering.
What would you say?
“He has nice, big hands.” You admitted softly, Taehyung’s brows raising with surprise. “He has a nice voice, too, and... his smile.” You added as you nodded to yourself, confirming your own list and Taehyung was left damn near speechless once again.
He didn’t really know how to act, acknowledging his face as the most common thing people liked about him, rarely ever hearing those aspects of himself mentioned.
And he oddly felt.. nice.
“Awh, now that’s cute, good job, Y/N.” Jungkook praised you, Hoseok then pointing his make-believe mic in Taehyung’s direction.
“Your turn, Chairman Kim, what do you like most about your wife?” He mimicked an interviewer and everyone followed in accordance, mics shifting towards him.
“Uhh..” Taehyung became slightly nervous under everyone’s scrutiny, not knowing if he should assume his usual unreadable nature or answer their request truthfully.
“Tae, dude, if you don’t say anything then I will.” Jungkook declared, just about ready to speak again until you cut him off, snorting.
“Don’t sweat it, guys. He won’t say anything.” You really knew Taehyung would have nothing to say, so you crossed your arms and became uninterested in the conversation.
Until Taehyung spoke.
“She does this pouting thing.. with her lips. It’s cute.” Taehyung started, coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly and peer at anything but a pair of eyes. “Her height.. and her eyes. She has nice eyes.”
The floor had to be tired of you by now, because Taehyung seemed to make you want to fall hard pretty often. You didn’t know what to do, eyes blown and nearly on the verge of choking, unable to believe a Godly being like Taehyung just admitted to liking something about you.
Is this what it feels like to win at life?
His words kept ringing in your head, melting into a shy mess with your cheeks beyond hot, avoiding eye contact with everyone while Taehyung grew slightly embarrassed, similarly looking off to the side.
“Holy shit, you guys are actually cute.” Jimin remarked through a chuckle as he pointed at you both, you and Taehyung mirroring the same look of horror while protesting at the same time. “No we aren’t!”
And it only made the men crack up even harder.
It was laugh after laugh as that conversation went on, finding a quick and pleasant liking to Taehyung’s friends. They’d made it clear as day they liked you as well, to be precise they seemed to love you, making playful nudges at Taehyung for saying yes to someone just right for him; and you seriously pondered what that exactly meant.
It was further into the night now, the gala having picked up in activity and passed the long social hour, now leading into more of a party scene as upbeat music filled the hall.
You’d stuck with Taehyung the whole night as promised, having met more of the people he knew. The evening had been quite calm, both you and Taehyung having silently, though mutually ignored the conversation from before for sanity purposes, only focusing on the additional people you met.
Taehyung and yourself had been talking up a storm with Jimin for the past half an hour, Taehyung introducing him as his best friend and getting the full run down of how that came about. It was highly entertaining, listening to mentions of alcohol, 4AM fighting and even an incident with dumplings.
It had you three laughing merrily while music played, Taehyung’s arm draped around you like it had been for majority of the night, practically hugging you to him. He was elaborating on a story that had something to do with a dream-catcher, all smiles and giggles.
That was until Taehyung suddenly froze next to you, sight seeming to set on a person behind Jimin and he immediately changed his aura.
“Jimin, what the fuck? Did you invite him?” Taehyung cocked his head in the general direction, eyes set hard.
Jimin’s eyebrows shot up and and casually looked behind him, registering the culprit himself and turning back to Taehyung. “Holy shit, no, I didn’t.”
“Then why is he here?”
“Fuck, I don’t know, Tae. My parents probably invited him, I’m sorry.” Jimin apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck, growing apprehensive.
“Don’t worry, Jimin. It’s just.. not him, not fucking him.” Taehyung’s voice grew a little darker, almost hateful as his hand gripped around you tighter.
“Taehyung, what’s wrong?” You asked tentatively, though didn’t exactly get a response since Taehyung became distracted, talking more so to himself.
“Why the fuck is he here of all people? Of all damn people..” Taehyung scoffed to himself humorlessly, clearly annoyed.
“Taehyung, who?”
“Nobody, we’re getting a drink. Jimin, please?” Taehyung and Jimin had a conversation with their eyes, Jimin immediately nodding and moving towards a certain man you barely caught sight off before Taehyung was pulling you away. You tried protesting, but the tightened grip around you and Taehyung’s frustrated expression was enough to shut you up.
Something was seriously wrong.
You followed him along quietly until you heard a bit of a commotion behind you, able to distinguish Jimin’s voice protesting. You almost looked back until a stranger suddenly snuck up on Taehyung, draping an arm over him.
“Kim Taehyung! Where you going? Damn, it’s been long.” The man spoke as he lowered his hand to Taehyung’s back, nearly smacking it as though they were old time buddies.
Though the expression that painted Taehyung’s face said completely otherwise; he looked extremely irritated, and not the playful type.
“Hisung, yeah, it has.” Taehyung bleakly acknowledged him, said man with an arm still draped over Taehyung’s shoulders until he shrugged him off harshly, pulling you closer to him protectively.
It made the man direct his attention to you. “Oh, this is your wife, right? Nice to meet you, Han Hisung.” The man smiled and extended his hand, not knowing if you should extend yours until Taehyung blatantly cut the man off, physically blocking his hand.
“Skip the pleasantries, Hisung, what do you want?” You were shocked to see this emotion on Taehyung; rarely having seen him frustrated, trying to manage his annoyance as he gave Hisung a dead stare, intimidating as ever.
Though Hisung didn’t cower like everyone else did, seeming to rather thrive.
“I don’t want anything. I can’t just meet your wife?” He coated his tone condescendingly, gesturing towards you.
“No, you can’t. We’re getting a drink.” Taehyung seriously seemed bothered as he began walking you away with him, the harder squeeze of his hand around you indicating he was either growing more irritated, didn’t want to let you go, or a mix of both.
“Oh, c’mon.” Hisung pulled Taehyung back by the shoulder but Taehyung becomes irritated, shoving his arm away harshly.
“Not now, Hisung. Not at Jimin’s event.” Taehyung warned him as though he was crossing a fine line, and you grew afraid of what would occur if that were compromised.
“What, I’m not doing anything.” Hisung held out his arms, feigning innocence. “I gotta say though, if I wanted one thing it’d be to say your wife’s hot as fuck.” He cocked an eyebrow and began eyeing you in your dress, growing uncomfortable and sending him a dirty look, though you naturally leaned closer towards Taehyung and he took notice.
“Say that again I’ll make you regret it, Hisung.” Taehyung’s jaw was locked, a protective feeling overwhelming him.
“You’re seriously gonna introduce her to everyone but me?” Hisung looked offended. “She should know who I am, especially to you.” He tried making a point, eluding to something between them.
“Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung flat out rejected him, his expression blunt as he seemed to radiate unbothered energy.
“I think you should. She should know the kind of man her husband is, and what he’s done.” He said knowingly, in a daunting way that accused Taehyung of something that seemed deeper than it looked.
“There’s nothing to know, and I never did anything.” Taehyung simply denied, as though he’s said this multiple times.
“Really? You don’t wanna tell her about how you sabotage people? Use your money to buy success?”
Taehyung had to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing out frustrated. “For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you? I’ve never done shit like that. Leave.” Taehyung finalized, attempting to control his anger.
You were trying to remain calm and look on objectively, though felt a sense of worry for where this was going, only Taehyung’s seemingly instinctive guard on you keeping you from anxiety.
Hisung scoffed, “You know, your wife should know how much of a fucking liar you are.” He spat, his vision suddenly growing narrowed as he eyed you both suspiciously. “Come to think of it, wife kinda sounds like a stretch.”
This time it wasn’t even Taehyung responding, you beating him to the punch. “Excuse me? The fuck does that mean?”
“Oh, so she talks.”
You were just about stepping forward to give this asshole a piece of your mind until Taehyung suddenly gripped onto your arms from behind, pulling you to him protectively.
“Hisung, what the fuck do you want?” Taehyung’s tone was leveled with a sense of controlled rage, clear effort to contain himself and you were completely understanding of that.
“Not much. I just find your marriage suspicious, and if I do then others do too. Wouldn’t want to taint the precious Kim reputation with that, now would we?” The remark was sly, causing Taehyung’s hold around you to tense.
“What the fuck are you implying, exactly? Try making some sense.”
“Your marriage isn’t convincing, jackass. There’s no way you two are really married, don’t think I don’t know there’s something behind it.” He stared squarely back at Taehyung, determined. “And when I get my hands on that information, don't think you're the only one who can sabotage someone.” Hisung was resolute as he declared his threat, only making Taehyung more resentful, more rash.
“Your opinion doesn’t matter to me, jackass. Nothing you do does” Taehyung was confident in the argument and it oddly made you proud, now understanding why he was so successful and well-acclaimed. It’s like he truly didn't care what others thought and only lived for the purpose of what he found important to him, contributing to his confidence and composed approach towards life. He carried himself with an affirmed sense of self-worth that never bordered egotistical, and you were lying if you said it wasn’t hot sometimes.
Because scratch that, it was incredibly hot.
Hisung laughed humourlessly, hissing. “I don’t think we can say the same about Mrs. Kim, though, her opinion should matter to you, right?” He then suddenly turned his vision to you and drew closer, speaking in a superficially saccharine tone. “Jagiya, you should really look into who your husband is. He’s not half the man he says he is.” Hisung suddenly came too close and Taehyung immediately tugged you behind him, shielding your smaller frame as his tone dangerously darkened.
“Don’t call her that, and never fucking come near her.” Taehyung was seething now, clutching one of your hands so tightly you became worried of his heightened emotions.
“Nah, I don’t think so.” Hisung mimicked him. “She should know I’d treat her better than her asshole of a husband, make sure she’s nice and satisfied with how much of a man I am compared to you.” Hisung remarked without a single care, and you nearly felt the blooding searing in Taehyung’s veins.
But you could tell that was exactly Hisung’s goal; to rile Taehyung up and it unfortunately worked. No longer was the calm, cool and collected Taehyung you knew, instead feeling him suddenly rush towards Hisung with a fist until you gripped onto his jacket from behind, calling his name.
“Tae.” Your voice was soft, immediately stopping him as you clutched urgently. Taehyung could hear the frailty of your worried voice, could feel your little hold on his jacket as he came to his senses.
Taehyung grinded his teeth hard as his fist tightened for a mere second before steadily loosening, calming himself down before he made his last remark. “Go fuck yourself, Hisung.” Taehyung spat with pure disdain as he turned around and swept up your hand, leading you away from the situation as far as possible.
He pulled you along hastily, walking with a sense of speed that almost had you tripping on your dress. You were seconds from telling him to slow down until he stopped you both in a hallway.
“Taehyung, wh-” You almost got out until Taehyung suddenly pushed you up against the nearest wall, breath hot and heavy as he huffed frustratedly, raw anger written all over him.
Taehyung’s entire towering body was unexpectedly inches from you, his forearms laid against the marble tiling above your head as he hung his own low, almost trying to conceal his face into your shoulder. It’s like he was blocking you off from any other person, defensively caging you as his chest rose and fell shallowly with white hot anger, your face tucked into his shoulder. His heated breath was continuously tickling the exposed skin of your neck, so close your heart was beating faster than it should’ve.
You were only left shocked, hands fallen slack by your sides and unable to move.
“I’m sorry.” He huffed out suddenly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m just.. really angry right now and I can’t calm down.” Taehyung seemed infuriated though worried, his hands clutching into fists above you as he leaned in even closer, mere centimeters between you two as he remained pressed into your personal space.
“Shit, don’t be scared I just-fuck, I hate him. He’s the only person who makes me so angry.” Taehyung breathed out frustratedly, eyes shut as he tried to control himself. “And fuck, I didn’t want him near you. I don’t want him to talk to you. I don’t want anyone to fucking come near you.”
Taehyung’s confessions kept coming and you were simply taken aback, another show of his emotions on full display and you wondered how he always so neatly composed himself.
“Tae-”
“Just stay in front of me, please.” He begged. “Where I can see you, just stay here.” He stressed, trying his best to breathe properly but only failed. “I don’t.. think I like when other guys are around you.” He confessed out of nowhere, trying to work through the claim hesitantly at first until he eventually nodded, affirming it.
“Yeah, I don’t like it.” He declared as he continued to lean in, his proximity allowing for you to constantly smell his intoxicating, Invictus cologne; its sexy scent paired with his perfectly tailored suit hugging the curves of his large, broad body only arousing your nerves.
“God, fuck.” He huffed out. “No matter what, stay away from Hisung. Never talk to him. He ruins everything he touches, every fucking thing.” Taehyung was dead serious, still hiding his face from you as he spoke angrily near your ear. “He’s been trying to ruin me for years. He’s already tried with everything else and he’ll come for you. He can’t ruin our marriage, and I swear to God if he fucking does anything to you-”
“Taehyung, hey, shh.” You brought your hands up to his chest to try calming him down, able to discern Taehyung ever rarely grew angry and when he did, just needed someone to quell his troubles. “Breathe, Taehyung, breathe, okay?” You spoke with a soft tone, trying to contrast the white hot anger you could sense in him by rubbing his chest pacifyingly.
Taehyung immediately tensed at the action, almost in shock until he ultimately tried to breathe, slow and steady.
“There you go, that’s better.” You encouraged into his shoulder, hands resting and lightly massaging as you inquired. “Talk to me, Taehyung, what’s wrong? Who’s Hisung?”
“Fuck, I’ll get angry again.” He warned, breath still hot and heavy as you smoothed over his dress shirt, trying to soothe him.
“It’s okay. I’m here, Tae, you have me. Tell me anything.” You assured and attempted to mirror his own words from a week ago, worried about his open show of emotions and thinking you should be helpful, make sure you're supplying all the support he needs because he may never be this open again.
Taehyung’s temper was still high, more of his hot breath on your shoulder as he spoke, lips still by your ear and the bass in his voice sending currents through you.
“It goes back 3 years, rival companies.” He began. “His father was dismissed as CEO and they held a shareholders meeting to decide a new one. Long story short, he won the vote, but only by a 49-51 percent margin. He barely scrapped by, and after he was appointed CEO he found out his major shareholders voted against him. What made things worse was that right after, they pulled all their shares from his company and invested in mine, and he fucking-” Taehyung was growing frustrated again recounting the story, his body rising and falling faster until your hands snaked up to his jaw, fingers splaying across his cheeks as you held his face pacifyingly.
“Taehyung, breathe again. You’re fine.” You felt him listen to you, breathing deeply as he became more composed again, continuing.
“He thinks I sabotaged him, that I colluded with his shareholders and used my money when I never did. I only had acquainted relationships with them at the time and never convinced them of anything. They told me they chose to invest because they saw me as the better company, the more competent CEO.” Taehyung was venting, and you let him exactly do so by attentively listening, holding him.
“It wasn’t my fault, but he thinks it is. And now he’s made it his life’s mission to ruin mine, ruin anything he can get his hands on because he’s convinced I ruined his.” Taehyung sounded upset, clearly fed up with having to deal with such an incessant pain in the ass.
“Just not you,” He sounded like he was pleading, a whisper. “Not fucking you, he can’t ruin us, or our marriage.”
“He won’t, Taehyung. We won’t let him.” The pads of your thumbs smoothed over Taehyung’s skin, trying to ease him as he moved back slightly, vision meeting yours.
“Y/N, I don’t lie. I wouldn’t sabotage anybody, I don’t play dirty like that. Even if the business world is riddled with people like that, I would never do it. I’m not like that at all.” A hint of desperation leaked into his tone, eyes gentle as he so emphatically tried to convince you he was nothing like Hisung said.
And you found your heart softening thinking about the fact that it affected him so much. That while he didn’t care what others thought of him, he somehow valued what you thought.
“Taehyung, don’t worry, I know, okay? You’re completely fine. He just tries to rile you up because he knows you’re better, more competent.” You slid your hands back down over his neck, letting them rest over his strong chest again. It made your breaths uneven, registering how close he was to you, just inches from your face.
“He probably knows those shareholders chose you because you’re the better CEO. He knows it, he just tries to deny the truth by looking for ways to ruin your life, so he doesn’t have to accept he’s inferior.” You offered earnestly, rhythmically smoothing him over. Taehyung’s eyes suddenly swirled with a sense of ease, his tense body now seeming to relax. “You think so?”
“Of course, Tae. You’re nothing like that, I know you’re not.” You said determinedly, gripping his shirt lightly to drive your point forward, eyes conveying warmth.
Though the response that met you was Taehyung gazing into your eyes boldly as he heard you address him so casually by a nickname already, his look containing something you couldn’t decipher, and it left butterflies swarming your chest.
You didn’t realize how intoxicatingly close you both were in this position; Taehyung’s arms caging you against the wall, body pressing into you as he looked at you, not breathing hard anymore but hotly, like he was feeling something he was attempting to manage. Your hands funnily contrasted the size of his chest as he glanced at them, then up at him, clutching him a little tighter the more the tension seemed to build.
It was obvious now, both of you were merely staring at each other, Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and your eyes followed the movement, something unknown alighting inside you at the image. It called necessary attention to his sculpted neck and you found yourself wondering if you’d ever get to lay kisses on it, possibly even mark it
You bit your lip at the thought, hating that such an idea dawned on you, igniting with something unholy the more you breathed in his sexy scent, his large body enclosing you. It sent chills down your spine, trying to contain yourself by shifting and clamping down on your lip harder.
Taehyung’s eyes flickered to the very action, his undivided attention now on your mouth. He could feel every harder squeeze of your hands on his chest as the heat rose, fisting his own hands against the wall with the need to draw himself closer to you, especially with the way you looked right now.
Taehyung already couldn’t keep his hands off you when you resembled the hottest, and yet most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen in that dress. Either a sweet angel descended from heaven or the right kind of demon he craved. It was even more difficult knowing it’s a dress he chose, adoring the way you were wrapped up in his favourite colour, and thought red has never looked better on anyone else.
It also made him think of some things he shouldn’t speak aloud. Though Taehyung knew you, and knew you weren't ready for anything of that sort, so he remained collected and only stuck to having an arm around you tonight, mindful of boundaries.
But when you were under his scrutiny, smaller self tucked against a wall because of him and clearly hot and bothered yourself, your exposed skin raking his brain, he couldn’t keep from nearing your lips.
He’s once felt how soft they were before, seeing on multiple occasions how plushy they truly are and desiring to feel that same soft sensation again. So he disregarded all thought, coming forward inch by inch as he gauged your response, and when he viewed you fluttering your eyes shut and lifting your head towards him, he fought back cracking a smirk.
Taehyung was milliseconds from connecting your mouths, feeling the skin of his lips blissfully brush yours as his sweet breath invaded your mouth, only for a frantic voice suddenly calling out his name to interrupt, the very culprit tumbling into the hallway.
“Taehyung! Y/N- oh shit.” Taehyung immediately ducked his face away from you and you hastily let him go, Taehyung puffing out frustrated air as he met his friends’ eyes. “Jimin.. what?”
“I-uh. I’m sorry, but I got Hisung kicked out and we’re gonna start the last toast. You guys should um...be there.” Jimin cleared his throat and began shuffling, avoiding eye contact with the both of you.
“Okay, we’re coming.”
“Sorry, again.” Jimin bowed lightly and nearly made a break for it.
Taehyung sighed heavily, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up as he freed you, finally able to breathe peacefully.
“We should um.. go.” He voiced awkwardly.
“Yeah.. just give me a second. I’ll be back from the restroom.” You dared to make eye contact with him to seem unaffected, though panicked the instant your gazes locked.
“Okay.” He nodded, seeming unbothered.
You grasped the skirt of your dress and your heels clacked against the tiled flooring as you scurried off, needing to find the bathroom to see whether or not you appeared as much of a mess as you felt.
You bolted inside and ran towards the sink, spotting two women possibly your age by the mirror though ultimately ignored them, patting over your cheeks to feel how warm they were.
Were you really just seconds away from kissing Taehyung? Kissing him? What would’ve happened if Jimin never walked in? Would you have kissed him for however long, would you have stopped it?
Even better question, why didn’t you stop it? Why were you so ready to kiss him, maybe even excited by the very idea? It sent a chill down your spine, even recalling that Taehyung stated earlier he liked your lips.
Kim Taehyung liked your lips, the same ridiculously high-status, wealthy man people were on their knees for, practically Seoul’s most powerful CEO and Korea’s seemingly unattainable bachelor; that same Taehyung was the one who liked not only your lips, but your height, even your eyes.
He said they were nice.
You didn’t even want to unbox the entire Hisung situation. He so naturally defended you, even held you back out of consideration for your safety it seemed, and it frightened you how much you liked it, liked that he was so protective and made all those confessions about disliking other men around you.
It may have been possessive, but you fucking liked it.
And you already felt doomed.
You were simply imploding on yourself, having your own personal meltdown when one of the two women audaciously addressed you, tone light and airy.
“Oh my God, are you Min Y/N?” She inquired.
You flashed your eyes to her, answering with furrowed eyebrows. “Uh, Kim Y/N now, but yes.”
“Wow, so you’re the woman Kim Taehyung married?” The other one perked up.
“..Yes.” You answered confused.
The other woman really scoffed here, scoffed, “Song-i, it’s the other way around. She married him.” The rather rude looking woman clarified, and you found out right after just how rude she was. “The Kim Taehyung would never willingly marry someone like her.”
Your expression immediately contorted, unbelieving of her audacity. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t think we’re stupid, everyone knows you seduced him into it.” She nearly spat, tone snobby as ever.
You guffawed humourlessly, truly having it up to here with today because it seemed never-ending with bullshit. “Think what you want, but I didn’t seduce him.”
“We know you’re lying, he wouldn’t marry some runaway like you. You came out of nowhere, you clearly got into his bed before you got him to the altar.” The other one added on, painting their twisted narrative together.
“It wasn’t like that all, but if you want to think so because you’re not the one he takes home at night, then be my fucking guest.” You countered them, look sharp enough you were sure you could cut a diamond.
They both took immediate offence, having the audacity to near you and invade your personal space. “You’re not the only woman he’s taken home, do you really think you’re special?” She insinuated something you weren’t dumb enough to not catch, heart sinking at the thought.
“What exactly are you trying to get at?”
“The fact that he married you as a favour, you runaway, and everyone knows your marriage isn’t love at all.” She relayed with a snippy tone. “Don’t you get you’re just charity to him? Everyone knows it, sweetie.”
You were trying hard to think of a way to counter, though your stinging heart took the jab like it was white hot lightning. You felt crushed within seconds at the comment hitting home, sinking lower until you spoke up.
“Our marriage isn’t your business. Maybe try getting a life before you revolve it around mine.” You spat as you sent them a petty look, making your way out and almost exiting until you felt a splash of water hitting the back of your hair, mouth falling agape at the sheer audacity of what just fucking happened.
“Your life is fucking miserable. You’ll stay by his side but he’ll never love you. Keep acting like your his real wife and see what’ll happen. Everyone hates you and how you made him marry you out of pity. Watch your back, runaway, you never know when he might end it all and break your little heart.” You almost, almost turned around to land a right hook across the girl’s face until you decided against it, composing yourself with a breathing mantra and instead choosing your favourite way of leaving a bad situation.
With a snarky last word.
“Seems he’s already broken yours with this ring, huh? Stay mad at the ring bitches, stay mad at the ring.” You smiled condescendingly as you flaunted Taehyung’s twelve thousand dollar ring, walking out of the bathroom despite their exclamations and practically marching towards the hall, seething.
You arrived inside and plopped down on your seat next to Taehyung bitterly, utterly vexed as you crossed your arms and grinded your teeth.
“Hey, where were you?” Taehyung asked. “You missed the toast.”
“Could’ve done it without me anyway.” You replied curtly, all the information you received in just 2 minutes ruling your thoughts and sending you into a storm of anger, spoiling your mood.
Taehyung became confused. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“Nothing.” You huffed and reached for your glass of water, taking a large swig and nearly slamming it back onto the table.
Taehyung reacted surprised. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” He became apprehensive of your mood, grabbing your hand on the table gently as he searched for your eyes.
Though he instead found your eyes flashing towards something else, someone else before you snatched your hand away, eyes set cold.
“I said nothing.”
Taehyung followed your previous line of sight and landed on two women finding their seats a few tables away, their own eyes immediately deflecting from him once he made eye contact.
And it really only took two seconds for Taehyung to connect the dots, recognizing their faces.
Taehyung sighed heavily, feeling guilty and suddenly apologetic about the possible situation, knowing something must have been said to you.
He turned back around, “Y/N, what happened?” He tried inquiring again, though you responded with absolutely nothing, completely crossed and avoiding him.
He exhaled tiredly, this day having been the epitome of a joke. Taehyung was scanning over you again when he suddenly noticed the ends of your hair, distinguishing they were wet and he found it strange. “Y/N, why the fuck is your hair wet?” He was moving to touch the damp parts until you evaded him, tone rigid.
“Nothing, Taehyung.”
Taehyung sighed again, frustrated as he once again put two-and-two together, remembering you’d all come from the restroom and addressed you. “What did they say, Y/N? Tell me right now, is that why your hair’s wet?”
“No, Taehyung, nothing happened,” You stressed, turning your body even further away from him and crossing your arms tighter.
Taehyung determined he’s truly had enough of today and rose from his seat, you noticing though choosing to ignore him. Taehyung quickly resolved he was going to fix this, beyond agitated this entire day had been damned to hell. He was having a good time too, especially keeping in mind whatever in God’s name was happening between you two, and only knowing that it made him inexplicably happy for some reason.
Though that mood was ruined now, Taehyung shaking away his thoughts as he began plotting his approach towards your situation, entirely pissed off as he made his way towards the bar, concocting his plan.
It took Taehyung only a good 10 minutes to get what he needed, snatching the nicest bottle of champagne and trying to remember where he’d observed the two women sitting, strolling his way over to the table with his fakest grin.
“Good evening, ladies.” He greeted with a saccharine tone as he neared them.
“Oh my God, Taehyung!” One of the girls beamed. “We haven’t seen you so long, what are you doing here?”
“Yeah, too long!”
“It has.” Taehyung smiled. “I actually wanted to offer this.” Taehyung then revealed the bottle of champagne from behind his back, holding it out towards them.
The two women became elated, practically cheering as they clearly admired Taehyung more than he liked. “Oh wow! Thank you so much!” One of them thanked, receiving the bottle bashfully.
“You’re too kind, Taehyung, did you really get this for us?” The other inquired, a bright smile on her face.
“Actually, I didn’t.”
Both women looked at each other confused, eyebrows furrowed. “You.. didn’t?”
“No,” Taehyung responded with a bleak expression in near offence they’d assume that, smile wiped from his face. “You both did.”
“Wh-what?” They both questioned, incredulous.
“I put it on your tabs, geniuses. There’s 6 more bottles, by the way.”
Both women’s eyes went wide, immediately protesting. “T-this is the most expensive bottle of champagne here!” They looked annoyed, and Taehyung was all about it.
“I know.” Taehyung smiled condescendingly, drawing closer to the women and dropping his tone to a scarily low, threatening octave.
“Say anything to my wife again and I’ll make sure you pay more.” Taehyung finalized and rubbed his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he walked away, smirking. He ignored their protests as he passed by the bartender, winking for the 6 other bottles of champagne to be delivered to them.
Taehyung then made his way to you, now in a hurry to leave this awful night behind as he gently gripped your arm, speaking into your ear to not alert anyone else at the table. “Y/N, we’re leaving.”
Taehyung didn’t really have to wait, you responding rapidly, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” You were already rising from your seat, done with this entire Godforsaken night yourself.
You both stepped away together, just about reaching the hall doors until Taehyung stopped you in front, holding you by your arms. “Stay here, I’ll get your coat.”
You nodded at him and Taehyung bolted off, wanting to nab your coat as fast as possible so he could drape it around you and practically flaunt your relationship in front of everyone. He didn’t care if it was fake anymore, didn’t care for the legitimacy of his actions; he simply wanted the world to know you’re his wife, purposely wanted those two girls and everyone to see him treating you affectionately.
And he most certainly wanted to squash any of the doubt Hisung called attention to earlier that kept bugging him, entailing your marriage already seeming fake to him, and could to multiple other people.
So he retrieved the coats and came rushing back to you, having worn his as he approached you. You almost reached out for your coat until Taehyung halted you.
“Don’t, I’m putting it on you.” He rounded the coat around your body, helping your arms into the sleeves. He pulled it snug around you and held onto the ends where it should’ve been buttoned, taking a moment to think.
Taehyung simply gazed at you, licking his lips contemplating what more he could do in this moment that would be convincing enough, knowing there had to be people watching you two right now.
He realized he was staring without having said anything. “Sorry, I’m trying to think of something to do for everyone watching but I don’t know what.” Taehyung flashed to your lips and his mind explored the idea, though ultimately fought against it.
“People are watching?” You inquired.
“Yeah,” Taehyung clutched onto your jacket, trying to think as he looked at your little bundled up self.
“But I’m not sure what to do-” Taehyung was cut off by you suddenly grabbing his tie and crashing your lips onto his in a single second.
Taehyung’s eyes blew out, taken by surprise until he found himself quickly melting into your kiss, hands gripping your jacket tighter. He couldn’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace.
You instantly loved the way he kissed, Taehyung somehow having taken control when you were the one who initiated everything, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips.
Taehyung didn’t care if your lipstick smudged onto him or how brash the public display of affection seemed; all he cared about was the soft feeling of your lips against his own, and the sexy way you wre tugging him by his tie.
He knew it would stay on his mind for weeks.
You were getting lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with undecipherable feelings, shimmering eyes that had no clue what just happened.
Taehyung smiled before sweeping up your hand in an instant, pulling you out of the hall and eventually outside to quickly sent a text to his driver, guiding you to the curb of the venue.
He held you against him to keep you warm while walking, suddenly speaking up when something occurred to him.
“You called me Tae, you know.”
“What?”
“My nickname, you called me by it earlier.” Taehyung repeated.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just heard your friends say it and it slipped out, I didn’t mean to-”
“Say it all you want.” Taehyung was grinning to himself like an idiot, thinking you weren’t looking at him but that’s exactly what you were doing, admiring the curve of his perfect cupid’s bow with hints of your lipstick smeared on him. “It’s better when you say it.”
And now it was your turn to smile like an idiot.
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A Pirate's Life for Me
Cover Art Done By: @fridaydev-draws and @friday-dsv (Dreamsmp x reader) Pirate Au! Love Interests: C!Wilbur, C!Techno, C!Dream, C!Sapnap, C!Quackity, and C!Schlatt
~~~
Salt burned your lungs as you tossed open your window with a loud bang, the seagulls perching on your flower boxes screeched in protest and flew from your window. “Fucking sky rats get the fuck out of here you heathens!” You snarled out the window shaking your fist at the bothersome birds, the sounds of the ocean crashing on the shore filled your ears as well as the chatter of the dock workers. You let the breeze blow back your hair and you heard someone calling your name from down below.
“Good morning (Y/n)!” You glanced below you and grinned,
“Morning Eret!” They waved back enthusiastically their dress spilling around their ankles, a basket of fruit was balanced on his hip. “Opening early today? I'm sure your patrons would be happy to start their drunken stupor early,” She held a hand to his mouth snickering and you shot them a look.
“If that gets more money in my pocket then so be it, I won't complain too much.” You shrugged, “Will I still see you later tonight?”
“Always do dove, how can I resist a drink from my favorite bartender.”
“You can’t it’s my charm.”
“Will the both of you shut the fuck up!” Another man’s voice growled from another open window, “It’s too early for your bullshit.” You saw Eret click his tongue but smiled up at you despite the man's protests,
“I’m heading to the market anyway. These fruits won’t sell themselves, I'll see you later.”
“See you soon!” You closed your windows once more, but not before urging your daisies to grow one last time. You tossed open the curtains allowing light to spill into your cozy home, a small carpet was in the middle of your room. It was a deep red and the pattern was made of gold yarn, aside from that everything in your residency was made of dark wood. Your shelves were littered with books and empty cups, and your old worn journal sat open on your desk. It was filled with childhood memories and you continued to write in it to this day, it was easier then, things were simple and everything was innocent and new to you. Now your days were filled with sea fairing idiots who liked to drink themselves stupid, but you could handle yourself, you always kept your father's dagger on your thigh at all times. Those who were frequent customers knew not to mess with you and those who were new learned their lesson within the first ten minutes of meeting you. You inherited the bar from your father, a kindhearted man who died a few years before today, leaving you with the bar and the dagger you had on your hip. You fished through your closet pulling out your clothes for the day, your dress was a gorgeous light coffee color and came down to your ankles. The bottom was flared and had dark brown panels on the sides, it faded inward to a light green then back to the coffee color. The corset around your waist was a dark brown with light green trim, you tied it tight with a small huff making sure your waist was sinched perfectly. The sleeves came down to your elbows allowing you to move your arms freely while making drinks. The top of the dress ended just below your collarbone, you strapped your dagger to your thigh before lacing up your knee-high black boots.
You thought back to your tavern downstairs, you were fortunate enough that you weren’t running this entire operation yourself. You ended up hiring help and they were like family and you knew they saw you as such as well. Most of the girls didn’t have a family of their own so you gave them room and board, also money, of course, you weren’t a terrible boss! You opened the door to your room, you watched Cecil, the tavern’s mascot trot out of Juniper’s room. The border collie liked to switch up which rooms he stayed in protecting every one of your girls when you couldn’t be there for them.
The first of your girls was Adelaide or Addie, she was one of the first to fall under your care. She was around your age, a motherly type, sheep hybrid, who cared for the girls, and always gave the drunk patrons with mommy issues a shoulder to cry on. Her long brown hair always hung down her back, she typically worked tables, served food and drinks, and always got a generous tip from patrons.
The next girl was Judas, a squid-enderman hybrid who was taller than you could ever wish to be, although intimidating you couldn’t meet a kinder woman. A jack of all trades the woman helped out wherever she could, black-ish purple hair curled around her shoulders and some people came specifically to hear her sing. Her voice was like rich velvet and lured men and women in like a siren.
Juniper was after Judas, a demon hybrid who was naive but you’d be a fool to underestimate her. She worked beside you at the bar, she can make some mean fruity drinks, Eret always preferred her drinks over yours. Freckles adorned her face and shoulders, her light brown hair curled down to her middle back, purple horns sprouted from the top of her head. You wanted to adorn it with gold jewelry and you were saving up to gift some to her.
Yeti was a human woman like yourself, she didn’t bother with those who were rude or obnoxious. She kept to herself only really talking when she was spoken to or when there was an opportunity to crack a rare joke. She typically stayed on the sidelines, out of the scenes and Yeti liked to help Judas decorate her sets.
Zig was a kind young adult, they got along with everyone who came inside the tavern. Soft emerald eyes drew people in, and they tried to make sure tensions within the bar didn’t rise and start a fight. There would always be one or two that’s just natural, but one look at Zig and his magic words and they seemed to disperse, not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings.
Vendetta was the tallest member of the group you had taken in, she was stunningly beautiful and didn't take shit from anybody. She was a guard dog if you will, making sure no one fucked with any of the girls in your tavern. While Zig did their best to keep people under control sometimes they couldn’t win. That’s when Ven would step in and ‘kindly’ escort them off the premises with or without force.
The youngest member here was Luvena. She was a moo-bloom hybrid with soft brown hair that sprouted flowers, her cow ears would twitch when she was excited and followed Addie around like she was her daughter. Addie took her under her wing and was training her to be a perfect little waitress, absolutely warming customers’ hearts. Luvena also loved to give out flowers, she was a fan favorite bringing new life into the tavern.
Cecil barked seeing his mama and scampered over to you, you poured food into his bowl as Juniper wandered into the hallway. Her head rested on the doorframe as she gave you a tried wave, “Morning (Y/n).”
“Morning Juni, We’re opening a little early today. Take your time I’m not expecting a big rush of bar patrons this early.” You assured her and she gave a sleepy nod,
“I’ll be down as soon as Ven’s out of the shower.” She yawned, “This beauty doesn’t come naturally.”
“Hardly darling you’re gorgeous just the way you are.” You reassured with a wink, Juniper flushed a little, happily laughing beside you.
“Just go wake the others will you, you flirt!”
Tossing your head back you gave a happy laugh heading down the hallway to make sure everyone was awake and ready to go for later. Addie and Luvena shared a room so she was in charge of waking up the youngest member of the tavern. Judas was already awake making breakfast for everyone when you headed downstairs, Zig was sitting on the counter beside her, they were the designated taste tester.
“Good morning Miss (Y/n)!” Zig chirped, the young adult hummed fondly, “Sleep okay?”
“Absolutely. What about you both? Thank you for making breakfast Judas.” You hummed fondly and Judas had a shy smile on her face.
“I slept well thank you.” Judas hummed softly, “Also it’s my pleasure. Want to make sure everyone’s healthy and alright.” She let out a little squeak as you wrapped your arms around her body, you barely came up to her chest,
“Judas please marry me,” You complained, “Your breakfast is always heavenly and you care for everyone. Please be my wife.”
“(Y/n)! Please.” She sputtered face turning a dark purple, Zig made a noise of protest and held his hand in the air.
“If she won’t marry you I will!”
“Zig! I’d be honored!”
Their entire face lit up with excitement and they hopped off the table to hug you tightly, you hugged them back and pressed a fond kiss to the top of their head. “I got to open up the tavern, you mind setting the table for me Zig?”
“Sure Miss!”
You sent Judas a kiss in the air which her face burned at, quickly going back to her cooking. You smiled eagerly and unlocked the door to the tavern, you shoved a bucket in front of the door to keep it open. The salty ocean air wafted through your nostrils and your eyes sparkled wondrously.
Today is going to be a good day.
Almost immediately a particular bastard caught your eye,
“You’re here early.” You mused raising an eyebrow,
“Heard you were opening early today sweetcheeks,” His voice was a low baritone, rough from years of smoking and drinking. Horns curled around his fluffy ears that stood out against his gruff exterior, he was a ram hybrid at its finest. “Figured I’d take the opportunity to get a special drink from my special girl,” He mused looking you up and down drinking in your figure. You scoffed at the retired man, he dressed like he was cosplaying captain jack sparrow, the gun’s in his belt just added to his costume and so did his large ruffled shirt, he was never one to forget his gold jewelry.
“Where’s Quackity?” You ignored him sitting him at his usual table, he frowned but you knew he was taking it as an opportunity to stare at your ass. He slid into the stool and put his feet up on the table, his boots were muddy but you could only control him so much. He was too much of a regular to get scared off by your threats and scolding.
“He’ll be in at his normal time. He’s not much of a day drinker, although can’t say I’m complaining. Having all your attention on me and all, considering I’m the only one in here. That being said, I’ll have my usual sweetcheeks.”
“Stop calling me that,” You scolded with a certain fondness that was reserved for the man. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite regular Schlatt,” you gave his ears a fond pinch and he bleated. He sent you a scalding look as you walked away, although the look soon fell as he got a good look at your ass once again.
“I’m your only regular sugar tits!”
“Schlatt feet off the table.” Addie criticized whacking his boots with a rolled-up menu, he rolled his eyes but dropped his feet to the floor. “You should know this by now, we go through this every day.”
“Yeah, yeah little lamb I’m on it. Judas here?”
“She’s always here,” She huffed spreading the menu down on the table. “Do you want your usual or something different? Should I get Quackity’s drink ready too?”
“Nah just stick with mine, for now, tell Judas I’d like to see her.”
Addie clicked her tongue and placed her hand on her hip, “fine. But if you’re just going to grossly flirt with her as you do with (y/n), then keep it to yourself.”
“You’re not the boss of me. Just because you look like an old hag-” The way she glared at him sent a chill down his spine, “shit babe take a joke will you.”
Eventually, people began to file into the tavern, as the morning faded into the afternoon and then into the evening. The tavern was bustling with life, Judas’s elegant voice traveled through the crowds and her voices seemed to float above the voices. Quackity joined Schlatt by his side seemingly irritated by a conversation they were having, Schlatt was about five drinks in at this point, which was much less than his usual, and Quackity on his second.
“What are they talking about?” Luvena asked swinging her legs as she sat on the bar beside you. Her moobloom ears twitching every so often as she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation,
“Vena it’s impolite to eavesdrop.” You scolded bopping her on the head lightly, she whined and rubbed the top of her head.
“I wasn’t!” She argued as you rolled your eyes, you looked over at the two men to find Quackity looking over at you. His hand was raised in the air, one finger was up summoning you to get him another drink.
“I’ll be back, why don’t you talk to Ven while I’m gone. She’ll keep an eye on you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter!”
“Good thing she doesn’t want to babysit your ass either, now shoo.” You motioned her to hop off the bar and she did so with a long, dramatic sigh. You looked over at Ven who gave you a silent nod, letting you know she’d watch out for the youngest member of your band of misfits. Meanwhile, you grabbed Quackity another drink and walked over to the two men at the table, “Someone order a drink?”
“Aye! Mamacita! Fancy seeing you here.” Quackity purred a bright smile spreading across his face seeing that you were the one to deliver his drink,
“Hey Big Q,” You greeted placing the drink in front of him, “You doing okay?”
“Better now that an angel walked into my sight,” He flirted and you rolled your eyes. “What? It’s true! You always brighten my day you know? Ow!” Schlatt hit his ex-first mate over the head,
“Take a breath lover boy. Thanks for the drink sugar tits.”
“You’re welcome, what were the both of you talking about if I may ask.” You hummed grabbing some of Schlatt’s empty glasses, an uncharacteristic frown came over both their faces. “Oh? Touchy subject?”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just dishing out some old problems, most of which are better left unsaid.” He aimed that statement at Quackity, his jaw seemed clenched and Quackity’s brow furrowed in annoyance.
“Well I just want to remind the both of you,” You passed the tray of empty glasses over to Addie as she walked by, she took them swiftly. You grabbed the side of both their heads and pressed them against your chest, not that you knew but both men’s flushed to the tips of their ears. “No physical fights are allowed in this tavern. If one starts I won’t hesitate to kick your fucking asses. Got it?” They looked over your chest and locked eyes with one another, after years on the sea they could read one another’s facial expressions rather easily and at that moment they shared the same thought,
‘They should fight more often.’
“I said, got it?”
“Yes ma’am,” The repeated simultaneously as you pulled away,
“That’s what I like to hear-”
“(Y/n)!” Vendetta’s velvety voice called out from behind you, you turned and saw a group of newcomers file into your bar. Your body tensed momentarily,
Pirates.
Schlatt turned his head to follow your gaze and he tensed from behind you, “fuck me.” He growled and Quackity raised an eyebrow at his captain, he turned to look over his shoulder and his face lit up.
“Sapnap!”
The pirate who had a white bandana tied around his forehead glanced over at him and a smile lit up across his features. “Quackity? Is that you?”
“My man!” He stood up from his chair heading over to wrap the man in a hug, “I haven’t seen you in years, man.” You zoned out of their conversation eyes locking with a few of the other pirates who walked into the tavern. Vendetta and Addie both greeted them, but everyone who was under your care knew to keep their guard up around pirates. From what you could gather there seemed to be two crews, a crew of what only seemed to be two, Sapnap was included. The fire demon was still talking with Quackity, while the other man took in the view of the tavern, he had shaggy blonde hair, and had a few scars across his face. A porcelain mask sat on top of his head, a forest green cloak was around his shoulders, his hood was lowered around his neck. A sword was strapped tight against his hip and there was another dagger that seemed to be tucked against his side. His eyes gazed towards you and he winked teasingly with a coy smile, you scoffed looking over at Addie.
“Seat those two gentlemen yeah? Be careful, I’ll tell Ven and Yeti to keep an eye.” Addie looked at you, concern written on her soft features but she nodded. While Addie departed, you noticed Ven talking with the other group. Luvena was hiding behind Vendetta’s long legs, although a tall blonde boy seemed very keen on talking to her. You smoothed out your dress and moved towards the group of three, you eyed them up casually. The blonde looked to be around Luvena’s age, he had a shit-eating grin on his face and his uniform matched that of the second tallest in the group. The second tallest was clad in a light blue jacket with large golden buttons on the red collar. He had a cream-frilled shirt underneath and a black belt holding up his brown slacks, those were tucked into black boots. On his back seemed to be a guitar and was the only one of them not holding a weapon, but you knew better than to assume with pirates. His curly brown hair seemed to bounce every time he talked, he seemed to be the ringleader but there was no doubt that the real ringleader was the hybrid standing beside him. He was taller, on par with Vendetta in height, he had long pink hair that was tied in a ponytail on top of his head. A few pieces framed his face elegantly, there was no doubt he was the captain of the little crew that was in your tavern. He had a white shirt on with a deep low cut ‘V’ it showed off a good portion of his scared chest, around his shoulders sat a deep red jacket but his arms were outside of it and crossed over his chest. He seemed content on letting his second in command do all the talking, his red eyes were the only ones to meet yours. His head tilted upwards and before Vendetta could stop him he walked over towards you,
“You own the tavern?” His voice was a low monotone and it sent an array of pleasant chills up your spine.
“I do,” You raised an eyebrow crossing your arms over your chest, “Names (Y/n). You are?”
“Captain Technoblade of the ship Odyssey, I was hoping you had a few rooms and a table available. My brothers and I are pretty exhausted, we’ve been sailing all night.”
Brothers, they certainly didn’t all look alike, but then again you certainly had a mix of girls in your care. Your tongue swiped against the top row of your teeth, “Why don’t you and your brothers take a seat at the bar for now. Juniper will be happy to serve you, I’ll see if we have some free rooms available.”
“Thank you, once you return I’ll introduce them to you if you’d like,” Technoblade bowed his head before turning back to get his brother’s attention.
“I’d like that thank you.” You gave a nod motioning for Vendetta to follow you as you slid behind the bar with Juniper, Judas had also taken a spot sitting on the bar. You figured you’d let her know as well, considering she was another adult figure in the group. You knew either Juniper or Judas would fill in Addie considering the three were close. “Ven, can they be trusted?”
“Not too sure about the masked man, the one Quackity seems to be familiar with seems decent enough. He’s a fire demon though, could smell him from miles away, we all just need to be cautious.”
“Agreed,” Juniper added tapping her finger on her chin. “We should just try to curb all fighting if at all possible, what did the captain of the other group ask you?”
“They want a room, I’m about to check to see if we have availability. Thoughts on that?”
Judas let out a low hum her eyes followed both sets of pirate groups around the tavern, “I say if we have availability let them stay. They seem harmless so long as we don’t mess with them, which we’d never do.”
“Plus I can always stay awake to keep an eye on them.” Vendetta tapped her nails against the table,
“You sure.”
“As if I’d let anything happen to any of you, you’re my family.”
You all smiled softly, and you noticed Judas’s eyes widen, “Zig! Get that out of your mouth this instant!” She shot up from her spot and over to the person in question. The three of you laughed fondly at the nonsense, meanwhile, Juniper saw the three brothers sit at her bar. She moved away from you to greet them, you immediately could tell she was taken with the second eldest brother.
He seemed to be an absolute lady killer.
Vendetta ruffled your hair before going back to stand at her place by the door to keep the peace. You headed up the stairs to the rafters to check on the extra rooms you had, “Excuse me?” You tensed visibly turning around to face the man in all green. His eyes were mesmerizing, a fierce jade green to contrast his cloak, “Do you happen to have two rooms available?” The man held up two fingers to clarify his request,
“Do you usually start introductions with a blatant request like that?”
He chuckled a smile spreading across his lips, “I’m Dream and you gorgeous?”
“(Y/n), it’s your lucky day I’m about to check and see if any are available. My tavern is a hot commodity tonight.”
“Well, I can see why,” he spoke and you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side.
“Oh?”
“It has the hottest owner around. Word spreads fast.”
You couldn’t believe this man was making your cheeks burn, he chuckled softly taking a step towards your figure. “Oh really, word spreads that fast on the open sea, Captian?” It was his turn to turn light pink, but he covered it up quickly with a chuckle.
“Touché.”
“I’ll get on that room for you and your friend. Take a seat, for now, this part is for guests and staff only you know?”
“So I have you all to myself?” He cheekily mused, he stepped towards you and before you knew it you were pinned against a wall. His hand suddenly brushed against your cheek, it was cold in comparison to your warm cheek. You felt Dream’s thumb brush against your cheek slowly, “You know...being on the open sea alone does something to a person.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” You mused pushing your forehead back against Dream’s, “All alone with only your crew with you.” Taking his other hand within your own you slid it up to your hip, you saw his entire face turn red as he stared down at your chest. “You’re probably missing a little love in your life, aren’t you Dreamy?” He nodded dumbly, his eyes still not leaving your chest,
Perfect. You weren’t going to let some pirate boy get the better of you.
He let out a grunt of pain as you spun him around and pressed his head into the wall with your elbow, your other hand has his pinned behind his back. “This hallway is for staff and guests only,” You purred in his ear before letting him go and swinging your hips before heading up the stairs fully. From behind you, Dream’s face was a deep, dark red and he had to clear his throat. Dream wasn’t going to let you go after that, I mean look at you, tough and able to hold your own, it awakened something inside him.
After checking up on the rooms you headed back down into the main hall, three-room keys in your hand. Glancing over at the scene in front of you, you saw Juniper dancing in the middle of the tavern the flirtatious brother at her side. Judas was sitting beside Schatt and Quackity at the bar, Addie was tending to Technoblade and the blonde at their little table. Dream and Sapnap were whispering to one another in the corner but still seemed to be enjoying the show. Vendetta was smiling softly by the door, beside her were Luvena and Zig both playing various instruments. You noticed Eret was also amongst the crowd, she had a brilliant grin on his face, it was flushed pink with alcohol and you smiled to yourself.
It was peaceful, and for a moment you forget half the patrons were scoundrels or pirates.
That was until the man dancing with Juniper locked eyes with you, his eyes lit up and he spun Juniper off into Addie’s arms. She giggled snuggling into the mother sheep’s arms, you heard a distressed “Juni! I’m holding glasses!” Before your vision was overtaken by the handsome flirt.
“Hello love,” He hummed, “May I offer you a dance?”
You were about to refuse but you saw Yeti, who finally made her appearance as it was getting closer to Judas’s set, giving you a big thumbs up “I’d be honored.” You responded taking his hand within your own, he pulled you out onto the dance floor and you felt his other hand politely hover on the small of your back. He allowed you to lean into his touch as he began to elegantly spin you around the dance floor, you were almost embarrassed to say felt like a princess. “Maybe I could get your name?” You asked above the music, “Since it seems you’re my dance partner this evening?”
“Wilbur Soot my love.” He hummed proudly, “The first mate of the ship Odysseus at your service. Plus I play music on the side.”
“Well now you need to play for us,” Wilbur twirled you around in a circle,
“Maybe one day. If you give me your name?”
“(Y/n) (L/n).”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
“I was right.” You commented biting the bottom of your lip trying not to smile,
“About what?”
“You.”
“Ah? Already talking about me I see? Is my manliness and gentlemanly qualities that renowned?”
“Not exactly.” He picked you up slightly and pulled you into a low dip, “I was right in thinking you a nothing but a flirty playboy.” Wilbur almost dropped you, you squawked grabbing onto his neck. He began to laugh as you clung to his chest,
“Alright love. You caught me red-handed.”
Wilbur set you on your feet hands on your lower back, you were pulled close to his chest. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I get them for free hon. I own the place.”
“Oh...oh.” He paled a little, “I didn’t fuck up our chances of getting a room did I?”
“Nah lucky for you and your brothers, I have you covered, same with your buddies over there.” You motioned to Dream and Quackity’s friend, Wilbur’s face paled as he felt the chilled room key get placed in his palm. “What’s your little brother’s name?”
“Tommy.”
“Tell them both we serve breakfast free from 7 am to 10 am.” He nodded as you walked past, Wilbur meanwhile turned to look at Technoblade. It seemed he had his red eyes on the couple the entire time they were dancing. He held up a room key, it was labeled 205; Technoblade nodded his head before leaning back and talking to Addie once more. “Dream!” You called throwing a hand up into the air, instead of Dream, Sapnap looked up he nudged Dream with his elbow. The man was now wearing his mask, but at least you could tell he was looking at you,
“Well hello, darlin’ you must be (Y/n). Name's Sapnap. Dream told me about you, so you have good news for us I hope?”
“Pleasure, I'm sure he told you all about me,” He nodded, his eyes taking in your body especially your ass. “Got you both a room key, your neighbors. Across from the other crew of pirates. Just don’t fight and we won’t have any problems.”
“You mean those jackasses are staying?” Sapnap complained loudly, looking over your shoulder at the other crew members.
“You both didn’t think you were the only patrons, did you? This is a business after all.” You, tossed the keys their way, Dream caught it with ease and Sapnap fumbled it only a little bit. After they were in their hands, you waved them off with a flutter of your palm you turned around to go speak with Judas about her set but before you could take a step you saw Schlatt stumbling up from his seat. “Ah shit,” You knew what was about to happen, you weren’t paying attention to the ram hybrid so who knew how many drinks in he was. You felt responsible, for a while you and Judas had been trying to help Schlatt with his addiction. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly set him off for him to get this drunk, Quackity caught him in his arms with a grumble. The man was a drunken mess, and as you approached you could hear his slurred speech and could practically smell the alcohol on his breath. “Schlatt,” You spoke carefully and as soon as you got close Schlatt detached himself from Quackity and lunged at you. His head was buried in his chest, he almost purred like he was very happy to be there, you rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. You were mindful of his horns but he seemed pretty eager for you to touch them,
“(Y/n).” He whined although it was muffled against your ample chest, “Why do pirates have to fuck everything up?”
“What are you on about Schlatt? No one likes pirates.”
“They’re gonna take you away from me, sugar. You’re my safe space, this tavern is my safe space.” You sighed listening to his drunken ramblings, you grabbed his horns and pulled him away from your chest.
“This is my life Schlatt, I’m not going anywhere trust me. Plus my family is here, they need me. So try not to worry okay?” You slicked back the hair on his forehead before planting a fond kiss there, everyone in the tavern narrowed their eyes at the scene. Even your girls were green with envy, at the sight of their lovely boss kissing someone who wasn’t them. He leaned against your lips eyes fluttering closed,
“Well, well, well if it isn’t Captian Schlatt? Or ex-captain if I remember correctly.”
“What?”
You turned your head and felt Schlatt’s arms wrap around your waist and held you close to his chest. The touch was protective and you felt your heart skip a beat, why was he protecting you, and why did you actually feel protected?
“Has the drinking finally caught up to you? Or was it the fact that you lost your so-”
Was that Dream's voice?
“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled and you were shoved behind him into Quackity’s arms, you felt less protected. “I’m not that person anymore and you fucking know that,” Vendetta came to stand beside the both of you a hand was placed on your shoulder protectively. You knew she was desperately wanted to step in and you held up a hand to stop her.
“This isn’t good…” Quackity murmured, “They’re going to fight. Schlatt’s going to get himself fucking killed.”
“Calm yourself. We won’t let it get that far.” Ven grumbled eyeing you waiting for your signal. But you were lost in the conversation or argument, the two were having, you couldn’t believe Schlatt was a pirate. He was so...he just didn’t...he was a drunk okay? That didn’t exactly shout feared pirate to you!
“Oh, are you sure? I remember that look, that’s the look you’d get before you stomped someone’s lights out. No wonder your son disappeared under mysterious circumstances-” Dream was shoved against one of the poles holding up the building. He grunted and Schlatt’s arm was pulled back ready to punch, but his arm was stopped by smaller hands,
“Pardon me Mr. Schlatt but you know how we feel about fighting in our tavern.” Addie bubbled, she had a smile on her face but it wasn’t kind, it was full of warning.
“Get the fuck off me, sheepie. This doesn’t fucking concern you.” Schlatt shoved her away and as soon as his skin made contact with her body he made a sound of distress.
“(Y/n)...” Addie murmured quietly, your father’s dagger was embedded in Schlatt’s arm,
“Fucking hell you bitch!” He snarled baring his teeth, you glared at him twisting the dagger he yelled in agony.
“Touch one of my girls again and next time this dagger is going right into your back.” You ripped the dagger out, splattering the floor with blood. He grabbed his arm tightly and looked at you with slight betrayal in his yellow eyes. “I mean it Schlatt, Quackity take him home.” The man nodded looking at you longingly, he muttered a quiet ‘Sorry’ before escorting him out of your tavern. “You,” You glared harshly over at Dream, “Go to your room.”
“You’re not my mother.”
“Then find another play to stay.” You spat, he turned away and you looked over at Addie, “Are you alright?” Your voice turned tender as you cupped her cheeks. She nuzzled against your palms and nodded her head,
“I’m fine. You didn’t need to-”
“Yes, I did. No one messes with you. With any of you on my watch.”
The sheep hybrid made a little sound as her bottom lip trembled, she wrapped you in a tight hug which you accepted without hesitance. Judas walked over next and wrapped you both in her arms, pretty soon you were surrounded by your girls and Zig.
All of them had the same mindset: comforting both you and Addie.
It was good to be loved.
Wilbur watched the scene curiously and glanced over at Technoblade who stood up from his chair.
“I think that’s our cue to leave for the night.” He looked over at his first mate, Wilbur nodded in agreement grabbing his guitar from the chair beside Technoblade.
“They...Techno were they talking about Tubbo.” Tommy whispered to his brother, his brow furrowing in concern as they all climbed the steps up to their room, “You don’t think-”
“It just might be Tommy.” Technoblade tilted his head to the side, “Guess that’ll be something we ask him when we get back to the ship tomorrow.”
“Well, this trip is going to be way more fun than I thought.” Wilbur snickered lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag, before letting the smoke curl out of his mouth and up into the rafters. ~~~
Tag List: @v01dw4lk3rz, @jam-bombs, @abovenyx, @glitterydigitalart, @phoenixaesthetic19, @luluwinchester, @boiled-onionrings, @pastelmoonwitche, @roxy3457, @alovestruck-fool, @victory-is-here, @mack4676, @fiorenc, @theoneandonlyyeti, @bloodrose0723, @sandyy-woo,
#dream smp x y/n#dreamsmp x reader#dreamsmp drabbles#dreamsmp x you#mcyt x y/n#mcyt drabbles#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#dsmp x reader#dsmp x you#dsmp x y/n#x reader#minecraft fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#pirate au#technoblade x you#techno x you#technoblade imagines#technoblade x reader#techno x y/n#technoblade x y/n#dream x reader#dream x y/n#dream x you#sapnap x reader#sapnap x y/n#sapnap x you#wilbur x reader#wilbur x y/n
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Besides the obvious orchid-related topics do the Byakuya/Hisana couple have other things that they like to do together? And for something different, what might it look like if Hisana had gotten the chance to meet Ichika and/or be involved in Rukia's love life/marriage/etc?
My headcanon about Byakuya and Hisana’s marriage is that a) Hisana was already sick when they got married and they were both aware that she was not in it for the long haul, but b) she was still very mobile and able to do a lot in the first years of their marriage.
I like to think Hisana was a more social person than Byakuya, and I also think she liked being rich, so a lot of their early days involved dressing up fancy and going to parties and galas. I, personally, am pretty uncomfortable in social situations by myself, but my husband is very personable and it makes a huge difference, and I think Byakuya would feel this way too-- that for the first time in his life, he likes going out and talking to people, even if it’s just a thinly veiled excuse to show off his beautiful wife and listen to her sparkling wit. While Hisana may caused a lot of mixed feelings in Byakuya’s family, I think she was very charismatic, and there were genuinely people she was able to charm (she was also barely-reformed con artist and was loved playing mind games with people).
Byakuya knows What’s Good in Life, and he also loved showing all of it to Hisana-- theater, fine dining, trips to the lake house. He wanted to make up for everything she didn’t get early in life and more.
At home, I think they were people who both had their own projects, but enjoyed working quietly in parallel, intersecting paths sometimes. Hisana liked to draw, primarily botanical illustrations, and she also liked to paint, flower and landscapes. Byakuya likes write poetry, and do calligraphy and to draw his weird fucking cartoons. I am standing by my assertion that Hisana had her own seaweed-based OC and they would tell little stories about Wakame Taishi and Hijiki-sama’s adventures together. One of my very niche Byakuya headcanons is that he really likes to sing, but does not feel like it’s appropriate for a clan head (he is not supposed to entertain, he is supposed to be entertained). Hisana also liked to sing, even if her voice wasn’t always up for it, and she spent some time learning to play the shamisen, and they used to make music together, just for the two of them.
I do not care if anyone else thinks this is out of character, but I think Byakuya spent a lot of time by her bedside in the later days. The man has a tremendous ability to just sit peacefully and exist, which is not something everyone can do. I think he read to her, mostly poetry, but anything she requested. Byakuya is not a person to ever take over a duty that a servant should rightfully be doing, but he knew which foods she would want, depending on how she was feeling. He kept track of her various blankets and jackets and socks. I think he really put aside the other aspects of his life to be with her in every way possible.
ENOUGH SAD STUFF!
For the other half of the question: I have written quite a few Hisana-based AUs now, and the one thing they all have in common is that Hisana is very pro-Renji. I am very interested in the curious negative space relationship that Hisana and Renji have on each other. Renji likely would never have met Rukia (or at least wouldn’t have had the same relationship with her) if Hisana hadn’t left her behind, but also, Rukia ended up being taken away from him because of Hisana, except that, in a Hisana Lives AU, I feel like he can’t be 100% mad at that because Renji doesn’t begrudge anyone loving Rukia. In a Hisana Lives AU, I feel like she would feel tremendous gratitude to Renji for having cared for and about Rukia in the wake of her abandonment-- that Renji did the job Hisana was supposed to, and that she would want to do whatever possible to enable their relationship.
I also like to write Hisana as a nosy meddler who pesters Rukia about her love life, because Rukia is naturally so closed-off and stoic and this is how sisters are.
It depends on the AU a lot, but I tend to think that even if Hisana had lived, it’s unlikely that she would be able to have children, so I think she might naturally have some difficult feelings about her sister having a child. That being said, I think she would try really hard not to let them show (Rukia would know) and she and Byakuya would be at least four times as ridiculous as a team than Uncle Byakuya is by himself.
#hisana kuchiki#byakuya kuchiki#rukia kuchiki#renji abarai#ichika abarai#i got like seven asks in a row a while ago that could all...basically be answered by reading my fanfiction?#and i know i have written a lot of fanfiction and i don't expect people to read all of it#but that is why it's taken me so long to get thru these#anyway if you like these answers i cannot recommend enough simply....reading my fanfic#i put a lot of work into it and it's pretty good
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Who's my Good Boy?
Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader
Request: will you write the post you reblogged, the one that says billy likes to be called 'good boy' in bed? if not, can i request that? 👀 thanks!!!!
A/N: Oh man. This one… I had way too much fun with this one lmao It took on a life of its own and I don't know if it went in a direction you're okay with, but fuck me sideways, it went there 😂
Warnings: cursing, smut. Like serious fucking smut, I'm not even kidding. Knife play, lil bit of blood, dom/sub bullshit. Sub!Billy for once and the little shit secretly loves it.
If you're under 18 then please avert your eyes and scroll on by. If you're over 18 then enjoy and maybe cleanse yourself in some holy water when you're done lmao. I'd say I'm sorry but that would be a bare faced fucking lie 😂😂😂
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You glanced in the mirror and admired your appearance. The black lace lingerie looked good on you and you felt pretty sexy. It was a new set since Billy had already seen every piece of underwear you owned. It was time to cash in on your win and you knew just what you wanted.
You and Billy often bet with each other over numerous things and more often than not, Billy would win. This time you'd actually won and like hell you'd be squandering this opportunity. He'd bet that he could get more girls numbers at the bar you'd been at and you'd gladly accepted. Never one to turn down his challenges.
Maybe it was weird for a couple to go off and flirt with other people and get their numbers like that but both of you never intended on calling the girls. It was simply a fun challenge. And you wished you'd taken a picture of Billy's face when you both counted and you'd got 5 more numbers than him. He looked horrified, wildly offended, ridiculously proud and also pretty aroused. You hadn't cashed in then, two nights ago, and you hadn't told him what you had planned. But you most certainly had plans.
Billy loved being in control in every aspect of his life. It was just the way he was and that bled into the bedroom too. You were more than happy to play the sub to his dom and you loved it, but you often wondered just how Billy would fare if the roles were reversed. How would he handle you taking charge and teasing him to the brink of insanity like he did to you?
You were waiting for him to get home from work and once you heard the door, you grinned to yourself. You knew Billy's senses were sharp, perks of dating a former marine sniper, but you crept out of the bedroom and saw him sat on the sofa facing away from you. You knew you wouldn't be able to sneak up on him, not through lack of trying, so you weren't disappointed that he didn't jump when you leaned over the back of the sofa, wrapping your arms around him from behind.
"Hey, baby," he murmured with a smile, tilting his head to look at you. His hands came up to stroke your arms and you could see curiosity burning in his eyes at your lack of clothes although he couldn't see from his angle just what you had on. You kissed his cheek sweetly and he smiled, leaning into the touch.
"I'm ready to cash in my win," you smirked. He raised a brow, lips quirking a little as his eyes glittered with curiosity.
"Really?" He asked, voice low and sultry and you had to remind yourself you had a plan.
You were nowhere near Billy's level of patience and control but you'd try hard to stick to the plan. You unwound your arms from him, stepping back a bit and you saw his eyes trail down your body, taking in the black lace against your skin and the stockings you had on. The wolfish grin that spread across his face made your knees weak.
He got up, slinking over to you like a panther, dark eyes drinking in the sight of you. You had to fight the urge to submit to him. To fall on your knees and worship his cock. Now wasn't the time. He reached out to grab your hips but your hands darted out, seizing his wrists tightly.
"I didn't say you could touch," you said firmly, quirking a brow at him. His lips parted slightly, a dark chuckle leaving them as his fingers flexed but he made no move to escape your hold despite how easy it would be for him. He looked curious and delighted by where this was going, to see this side to you.
You let him go, pleased when his hands settled by his sides, clenched into fists. You knew he would take it as a personal challenge but you also knew it would be hard for him not to touch you which is why you had plans for once you got into the bedroom. You grabbed his tie, yanking him close as your lips ghosted his. His clenched fists were still by his sides.
"No touching," you reminded him before you kissed him. He kissed back fervently, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth and it caused you to moan. Drawing out a groan in response from him.
When you broke away, a sly grin painted your lips and you could see his resolve for not touching you was wearing thin. You let his tie fall back against his chest before you turned on your heel, feeling his gaze on your ass as you sauntered into the bedroom. He followed obediently as you perched on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other as you looked up at him.
"Strip," your firm command was met by a smirk from him and he took his time to remove all of his clothes. The man was built like a god and you could feel how wet you were already as your eyes drank him in greedily. His smug smirk let you know he knew just what he did to you.
You stood up, loving the way his eyes didn't leave you as you beckoned him over. He walked over with no hesitation and his hands went to grab you again. Before you had to intervene, they snapped back to his sides, balled up into fists and you smirked at him as your hands smoothed up his bare toned chest.
"Good boy," you murmured, your lips ghosting his. His groaned, head snapping forward and his teeth caught your lower lip. The only act of rebellion you'd allow for the night.
You kissed him greedily, a hand fisting his hair as his mouth devoured yours before you moved away feeling breathless. You really needed to make sure you kept control over yourself. You pushed him to lay back, gesturing with your hand for him to scoot up and lay on the pillows. He did as instructed, his heavy lidded gaze never leaving you. You knew for a fact he was staring at your ass when you bent down to get his tie. You made a bit of a show of it and he groaned.
He raised a curious brow as you returned with his tie in hand and you smirked, moving to straddle him. You sat more on his torso though so he couldn't find any friction from you. You grabbed his hands without a word and pinned them above his head, making quick work of tying them together and to the headboard. His almost black eyes pinned you in place from where he lay and it sent a thrill right through you.
"Y/N…" his low voice was silky smooth but it was full of warning. It was the voice he usually used before he made your ass cheeks red and had you begging him to fuck you senseless. You loved it. You fluttered your lashes at him with a coy smile, gripping his jaw before you leaned down to kiss him deeply. He kissed you back hard and it amused you how he was still trying to have some level of control with this. You'd soon break him.
"I'm in charge, be a good boy for me," you purred against his lips. He groaned, shifting his hips as he tried to find something, anything, to rub against but he found nothing. You could see the frustration on his face. You moved to kneel next to him, really wanting to avoid his cock as much as possible to really drag this out and you started to kiss and nip at his neck. He tilted his head, giving you easy access as he hummed, hands flexing over his head as he gave the tie a tug to no avail.
You kissed down his toned chest, giving his nipple a teasing lick and nip and he moaned softly, arching his hips again pointlessly. You couldn't help but smirk against his skin as you continued to kiss down his body. You purposely steered clear of his dick, kissing his thighs as you settled between them and biting them, leaving marks as he groaned. He kept tugging at the tie and you knew it was killing him not to be able to touch you. You were revelling in it. You left another mark at the juncture of his thigh that had him gasping and squirming and you really started to see just why he loved to tease you so much.
"Shit," he moaned, head falling back as you started licking and sucking at his balls. You hummed around them as you lavished them with attention and he couldn't stay still as he kept arching up at nothing with frustrated groans. You grinned to yourself before licking a stripe up his lower belly, adjacent to his throbbing cock but making sure you didn't touch it.
"Untie me, Y/N," he strained voice was full of authority as he punctuated his words with a sharp tug at his binds.
"Ah, ah, ah. I'm in charge," you tsked at him, raising a brow. His nostrils flared at your defiance, a growl leaving his lips. But his eyes were sparkling and you knew that despite how unsettling the lack of control was, how frustrating it was for him to have you not do as he says, he was enjoying it at the same time.
You moved to straddle him, once again higher up and leaving his cock with no purchase to rub against. You gripped his jaw tightly, leaning down with hard eyes as he blinked up at you.
"You're not being a very good boy, Billy. Only good boys get rewarded," you murmured, delighting in his answering moan. You reached over to the nightstand, grabbing one of his many knives that he always kept there. You twirled it with ease in a move that he'd taught you and you heard his breathing hitch.
His black eyes glanced at it before going back to your face and you smirked at his groan of 'fuuuuck' as he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. You trailed the knife carefully down your neck and over your lace clad breasts and it wasn't lost on you how still he became. The knife was incredibly sharp but even through his lust filled haze he wouldn't do anything to hurt you, not wanting to jostle you and have you cut yourself.
"You gonna be a good boy now?" You asked, blinking down at him. He nodded stiffly and your answering smile was devilish. You slipped the knife between your breasts under the bra, angling it away from you and slicing the material with ease. His eyes were locked on the knife now and his hands kept flexing into fists over and over despite how still he'd become. Your breasts now exposed, you kept the knife in hand as you slipped the straps off one by one and tossed the now useless material carelessly on the floor.
His eyes drank you in with a hunger that made you wet and you smirked down at him. The knife then sliced through either side of your panties and you slipped the material off and it was discarded with the bra. Obsidian eyes drifted down to where your legs were spread on him and he bared his teeth a little before licking his lips. You took your time, surprisingly still calm and in control as you trailed the blade down from his neck to his chest. He shifted his hips up, once again finding nothing to help, but the tip of the blade nicked his skin ever so slightly and a drop of blood pooled on his chest. You knew he'd done it on purpose since he'd been so careful when the knife was on you.
Locking eyes with him, you leaned down and licked up the drop of blood and he hissed, tugging at his binds again.
"Fuck… Y/N…" the authoritative tone was gone and replaced with a pleading one and you knew you were finally wearing him down. You gave him a wolfish grin as you set the knife back on the nightstand before giving him a deep kiss that he responded to willingly, his hips moving once more to no avail.
"Do you know what I want?" You asked softly, lips a hair away from his.
"My dick?" He replied, not missing a beat. His voice was low and hoarse as he leaned up trying to chase your lips but you moved just out of his reach with a snort. You couldn't help it. His grin back at you made you smile despite the current situation. He always loved making you laugh and even this didn't change that. You placed a teasing kiss at the corner of his mouth and when he tried to tilt his head to meet your lips, you gripped his jaw firmly and held him in place.
"What I want…" you kissed along his jaw, "is for you…" you kissed your way to his ear as he squirmed under you, "to beg," you purred in his ear.
"Fuuuuck," he groaned, tugging helplessly at the tie. It made you smirk as you sat back upright and looked down at him all innocent like. Your hands trailed down your body, palming your breasts as his eyes took you in. He squeezed them shut for a moment as if that would help but it wasn't for long before his obsidian gaze was back on you. He couldn't help himself.
He watched with rapt interest as your hand trailed lower until it reached between your legs. You moaned softly as your fingers circled your clit lazily, your eyes not leaving his face. His eyes looked wild now, desperate and you were just waiting for him to snap.
"Y/N," he pleaded, making you grin wickedly. It wasn't enough though. You ignored him and his restless hips as he tried his hardest to find friction.
You knelt up a little, allowing yourself to slip two fingers inside your soaked pussy with ease and you moaned, biting your lip as you started fingering yourself.
"Shit… fuck… Y/N, please," he begged, sending a thrill right through you at how desperate he sounded.
"Please what?" You asked breathlessly, another soft moan leaving your lips as you continued to pleasure yourself. His dark eyes were darting from what you were doing and to your face, his chest heaving as he squirmed.
"Fuck me. Fuckin' touch me, I don't care. Do something! Please," he was so helpless and looked on the brink of insanity and it's just where you wanted him. Where he'd gotten you so many times before.
Your fingers slipped out of you and you offered them to him, quirking a brow. He wasted no time in opening his mouth and sucking them clean, groaning like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted as his tongue swirled around your fingers. Fuck, if that didn't turn you on.
Gripping his jaw, you rewarded him with a filthy kiss, all tongues and teeth as you tasted yourself on his tongue.
"Good Boy," you breathed softly, earning a moan from him. You shifted down a little, kneeling up and he hissed when you finally grabbed his cock. You lined him up before sinking down onto him with a moan and the noise he made was downright dirty and you knew you'd file that away for a later date.
You stayed where you were, unmoving, and when he shifted his hips up to you, you raised a brow in warning at him. It amused you when he complied and stilled immediately, worried you'd climb right off him after he finally got what he wanted. You still weren't done driving him crazy yet and you knelt back up, his cock almost slipping out of you, only the tip inside. You teased him, not sinking down all the way, not even halfway before you lifted back to just the tip and he whined. Billy fucking Russo actually whined and you smirked in delight at the noise you'd drawn from him.
"Please. Please, please, just… fuck," he gasped, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his brow as he bared his teeth again. Having someone as composed and calculated as Billy like this was a huge turn on and you rewarded him by sinking back down fully until he bottomed out and he moaned loudly. The tug on his binds let you know he really wanted to touch you. If it wasn't for the fact you'd googled the best way to tie him up, you had no doubt he'd be pinning you to the bed right now and fucking you like an animal. He got like that sometimes. Practically feral. And you could see the glint in his eyes right now.
You started bouncing on his cock, the pair of you moaning and you felt the relief the same as he did. You'd worked yourself up quite a bit but you were proud of yourself that you'd held out and got what you wanted out of him. You'd fully expected to cave to him way before it got that far. He was chanting your name like a fervent prayer, head thrown back in pure ecstasy as you rode him hard and fast.
He was still tugging on the tie as his hips arched up to meet each hard thrust and you felt him hit all the right spots as you moaned.
"Untie me. Please fuckin' untie me, I need to touch you," he begged, voice raw as he pulled more on the tie. You snarled, your hand darting out and gripping his throat, squeezing it a little as you kept moving. His eyes went wide, lips parted as he moaned even louder.
"No," you bit out, eyes blazing. His back arched, a gasp leaving his lips as he fucked up at you harder.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he moaned desperately, actually whimpering when you squeezed his throat tighter.
You leaned down, hand still firm around his throat and you nipped at his lower lip.
"Who's my Good Boy?" You asked breathlessly.
"Me… I am," he moaned without hesitation. He looked completely blissed out and you felt the pleasure building up at a rapid rate inside of you.
Seeing him in the throes of pleasure like this sent you over the edge and you cried out, clamping down around him as your hips faltered for a second, your release washing over you.
"Don't stop, don't… please, don't fuckin' stop," he begged helplessly, his voice a mere breathy whisper as he kept rutting up into you. You obliged through your orgasmic haze and his moans got louder, hands balled into fists above his head before a loud groan filled the room. After a few more stuttered thrusts up into you, he stilled, as did you, and you smiled feeling heavenly.
You leaned over, easily untying him before you collapsed on his chest and caught your breath. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around you, his hands smoothing the skin on your back as if making up for the time he hadn't been able to touch you.
"Holy shit," he murmured breathlessly, nuzzling your hair. You smiled tiredly before sitting back up. You took his wrists in your hands delicately. They were a little red from all his tugging and you placed soft kisses to each of them. When your eyes landed on his face again he was giving you a soft smile that made your heart stop for a moment.
"Did you enjoy it?" You asked hesitantly. His smile widened, one hand on your hip as the other stroked your face.
"You're kiddin', right? I think it's obvious I did. Didn't know you had it in you," he smirked. You blushed and rolled your eyes playfully, leaning down and kissing him softly. You moved away to lay your head back on him feeling content to just fall asleep like this with his softening cock still inside of you.
"I gotta say… I'm pretty impressed. You did me proud," he smirked into your hair as his fingers trailed lazily up and down your back. You hummed softly, snuggling into him more.
"Well, I learned from the best," you replied with a sleepy grin. He chuckled and you felt him press a kiss to your head.
"Don't think we're makin' a habit of it though. Was fuckin' torture," he snorted, making you giggle a little.
"Now you know how you make me feel," you murmured tiredly. He chuckled, a hand winding into your hair as his fingers rubbed your scalp and you were helpless to succumb to sleep when he did that. The pair of you drifted off still tangled together and you still had a smile on your face as you remembered that you'd gotten Mr Marine to beg for you.
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Mahina || Part 1
Summary: Jungkook couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something drawing him to you. Like the moon tugs at the tides, he needed to be beside you. genre: smut, fluff, angst word count: 4,626 tags: idol!au, fantasy!au
When Jungkook awoke this morning, something was... different.
He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the air in his room seemed to have shifted slightly. He felt lighter on his feet, a sudden bounce to his step while he pulled himself off of the bed and towards the bathroom.
He brushes his teeth as usual, carefully scrubbing his tongue and admiring his reflection in the mirror. The eyebrow piercing was a good edition, he thinks. It accentuates his high brow and sparkles underneath even the dimmest light. Spritzing himself with cologne, he opens the bathroom door just in time.
"Jungkook, I made breakfast! Hurry up!"
Smiling to himself, he trots down the stairs of the far too large penthouse he and his band mates bought a couple years ago. He doesn't mind sharing with 6 other people, though. Having grown up with no siblings, he enjoys the dynamics at play when he speaks to the members. They're all his brothers, co-workers, family... He couldn't have asked for a better turn out when it came to finding a career path.
Yoongi is standing in the kitchen when Jungkook walks in, the smell of pork and kimchi filling his nose. Thanking his hyung, he grabs a bowl and starts filling up.
"You seem happy this morning," Yoongi raises an eyebrow, "what's going on?"
"I don't know," Jungkook shrugs, "I just woke up in a really good mood. I feel like--" he takes a bit of his food, then speaks with his mouth full, "--something amazing is going to happen today."
"We just have rehearsals?" Yoongi's statement comes off as more of a question.
"Exactly." Jungkook says, continuing to munch on his food. Yoongi looks at the younger man and shakes his head, continuing to fry meat for the rest of the members.
"Hey, did Namjoon come home last night?" Seokjin asks as he walks into the kitchen. He takes a spot beside Jungkook on the counter, reaching into his bowl and grabbing a piece of pork belly. Jungkook attempts to push his hand away but Seokjin smacks it and grabs the meat anyway.
Yoongi shakes his head again, "Nah. He stayed at the studio last night, said something about a last minute inspiration."
Jungkook has noticed Namjoon's lack of attentiveness recently. It seems as though his head is always filled with potential themes and lyrics and beats, much more so than even in the early days of the band. He's curious about his inspiration as of late but Namjoon doesn't seem to want to give away his methods any time soon.
"He's been doing that a lot lately." Jungkook thinks outloud.
"More power to him," Seokjin says, "man works his ass off and it benefits all of us."
Yeah, it definitely does.
~*~*~
"5, 6, 7-"
Hoseok's counting is cut off by the music blasting again. It's the third run through of the new choreography, Jungkook is center and carefully watches the rest of his hyungs in the mirror. He moves to the left, following Hoseok's lead and smiling as he notices a mis-step on Jimin's part. Jimin throws his head back and yells, lifting his shirt up and wiping some of the sweat that's accumulated on his brow.
"It's okay, Jiminie," Hoseok sings, "this shit is hard."
Seokjin nods in agreement, "Yeah, what the hell happened to a laid back choreography for this come back?"
"It's the last one of the year. We gotta go out with a bang." Jungkook turns back to look at Namjoon, who chugs water in the corner of the room. "Speaking of big come backs, are you working on your mixtape?"
Namjoon laughs, "Nah, definitely not. I'm trying to get a couple more songs for the album."
"Don't we have like 14 tracks?" Taehyung speaks for the first time since rehearsal started.
"16 is better than 14." Namjoon smiles, listening to Hoseok as he calls everyone over again.
"One more time. 5, 6-"
It's then that the doors burst open and Hyun enters in. "And this is the rehearsal room containing the 7 men you will be photographing."
Jungkook's eyes travel to the person his manager is talking to, and he has to hold back a gasp. He feels the way his jaw drops, but he's unable to close his mouth while he looks at you. God, you're gorgeous. Your hair cascades down your back and your clothes cling to your body in all the right ways. Jungkook struggles to tear his eyes away, but once he sees your smile he realizes there's no way he can turn away. You're literally glowing, with god-like shining eyes. Who are you?
"Boys, this is _____. She's in charge of photography and will be around to film Bangtan Bombs, behind the scenes, or anything you all want filmed and made into content."
Jungkook repeats your name in his head five times. He whispers it to himself once while everyone else heads to you to shake your hand. Jungkook stands back, finally blinking his eyes.
You step forward after having shook the hands of everyone else, "And you're Jungkook," you smile again, "I like your tattoos. Glad you're finally willing to show them."
"T- tattoos..." Jungkook mutters pathetically as he takes your outstretched hand. You giggle, shaking his hand enthusiastically.
"Well, anyway. It was nice to meet you all. I'm excited to work closely with every one of you." your words are met with a chorus of 'same!' from everyone except for Jungkook.
Hyun puts a hand on your shoulder and leads you out of the room, continuing on the tour of the HYBE building. Jungkook stares after you, the doorway now long empty but he couldn't look away. You were, by far, the most beautiful woman he has ever come across. With your simple torn jeans and black t-shirt, he feels you could pull off anything you put on your body.
It's not until Yoongi speaks does Jungkook finally tear his eyes away, "Could you have been any creepier?"
"What?"
Jimin bursts into laughter, his frustration with the choreography long gone, "You were-" he takes a deep breath in between laughter, "you were staring at her like she was the last woman on the planet!"
"W- what?" Jungkook stammers.
Jimin doesn't respond, only laughing louder as he falls to the ground. Jungkook can see the hidden smirks of the rest of the members, turning his to look at everyone, "What the fuck just happened?"
"Love at first sight?" Taehyung suggests.
"More like love at first drool." Seokjin begins laughing before he even finishes his sentence, causing the rest of the members to groan at his joke.
Jungkook doesn't react to Seokjin though, as he turns to look back at the empty doorway. If love at first sight is a real thing, Jungkook just experienced it to the fullest extent.
~*~*~
Jungkook manages to continue the rest of rehearsal without a problem, except for the way his mind kept traveling back to you. Saying your name in his head again, he washes up in the gym showers. He thinks back to the way your skin seemed to be literally glowing to him, and your bright white teeth hypnotizing him.
Never in his life has he had such a short conversation with someone that had such an impact. He wants to learn everything about you, your passions, the music you like, the books you read. He hopes that you enjoy some of the same things he does, so he has an excuse to talk to you.
Though his interest in you is certainly piqued, he has to keep in mind that you are, essentially, his employee, and fantasizing about your employee is more than inappropriate.
Fantasizing might not be the right word, but he can't help and imagine conversations between the two of you. Your voice is so pretty, it's light but carries through the room. You make sure your presence is known, though with the way you shine you didn't have to try hard. He smiles to himself, closing his eyes and rinsing off the conditioner from hair. Then, he wonders what your hair looks like when it's wet.
Okay, Jungkook. That's enough.
He shakes the water off his head and wraps a towel around his body. Exiting the shower, he realizes he forgot his bag in the dance room and sighs. Checking the time on his phone, he realizes that it's after 9 pm. The odds of anyone other than the members being here is pretty slim so he can just walk his way to the rehearsal room and change in there, right?
Right.
Tightening the towel around his waist, he walks out of the gym bathroom and strolls down the hall. He scrolls through his phone while he walks, rounding the corner and hearing your voice.
"Thank you, Mr. Lee. I'm very excited to properly start tomorrow."
"We're excited to have you," Jungkook peeks his head around the corner and watches Hyun bow to you, "your work is incredible and I know Taehyung in particular loves your shooting style."
What? Taehyung knows her? Jungkook must have missed that earlier when he couldn't stop staring at you.
"Yeah! It still blows my mind that one of the bangtan boys followed my work," you let out a small, somewhat embarrassed giggle, "thank god for Instagram."
You and Hyun share a laugh, followed by a goodbye. Jungkook gasps as he sees you turn in his direction, rushing to a small doorway and pushing himself up against the wall. You can't see him like this, not already. He's nearly naked and he knows this towel isn't big enough to cover himself as well as he should in front of a stranger, so he holds his breath as your foot steps become closer... and closer... and-
"Hey Jungkook."
Fuck.
Jungkook exhales a breath and moves to tighten the towel around his waist even more. You're eyes are not scanning his body like he thought you would be. Of course, Jungkook knows that sounds cocky of him to say but he can't help but assume that that would be the outcome of this situation. Either way, his face still burns when your eyes meet his. Those gorgeous, glowing eyes.
"Were ya hiding?" you laugh, tilting your head to the side, and Jungkook realizes that he's still pressed up against the wall.
"I- I, uh-" come on Jungkook, get it together, "Sorry. I didn't want you to see me naked."
"Oh please. When humans are naked, they're at their purest forms. It's natural, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." you smile brightly, moving a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
Jungkook raises an eyebrow. Your phrasing is odd, but he doesn't question it. Instead, he swallows, "You're right, but I'm sure you wouldn't have been okay with my dick just hangin' out. Neither would the security watching the cameras."
You laugh, a proper laugh that doesn't seem to be masked by something else, and Jungkook realizes it's melodic. A fine tune singing into his ears as one of the most beautiful songs he has ever heard. It's soft, breathy, and makes him want to make you laugh for the rest of eternity.
"Either way," you say after a moment, the hint of humor still in your voice, "nothing to be ashamed of. I'll see you tomorrow, Jungkook."
Jungkook tilts his head, watching you wave and waving back as you carry your feet towards the elevators.
~*~*~
The air was even lighter this morning, and Jungkook can't help but think you play a part in his bright mood.
Following the conversation yesterday, Jungkook walked with a grin on his face to grab his clothes. You're incredibly charismatic, an stark difference to Jungkook's usual shy and laid back personality. Despite your conversations together being minimal, Jungkook feels you and him are going to be close.
Jungkook hops out of bed and styles his hair carefully. Checking his phone as he brushes his teeth, he's received a text from Taehyung apologizing because he had already left. The house sounds still, he remembers Yoongi and Seokjin opted at staying at their respective apartments tonight, wanting to be a little closer to home. Namjoon probably stayed at the studio again and Jimin and Hoseok more than likely left with Taehyung. He shrugs, making a quick protein shake and grabbing a banana before heading out of the door.
As he drives to work, he makes note at how much more productive the members have been these days. Not that they never were, but the usual slump of exhaustion that follows months of continuous promotions, rehearsals, and recording doesn't seem to be hitting anyone this time around. Surely, the explanation is the high everyone is riding from the success of Butter and Permission To dance in the west. It's motivated everyone, including Jungkook himself.
He pulls into the parking garage, rides the elevator up to the 13th floor, and steps off only to be stopped by Hoseok.
"Jungkookie!" Hoseok wraps his arms around Jungkook's neck and squeezes him tight.
"Hoseokie!" Jungkook mocks, giving a pat to the older one's back. Hoseok pulls away with a chuckle, "I guess _____ is doing behind the scene shoots today. Something about wanting to catch us in our element."
"Oh? Like individual shoots?"
"Yeah," he smiles, "she's with Yoongi in his studio right now. She told me to tell everyone to choose a thing they do on a daily basis that might be interesting to see for ARMY."
"Should I work out?" Jungkook smirks. Hoseok rolls his eyes, patting Jungkook's pecs,
"You work out enough." Smiling, he begin walking towards the commons area,
"I'm almost to where I want to be." "Whatever Jungkook, you bully us enough already." Hoseok pats Jungkook's head and walks away, leaving Jungkook to sit on the couches for a moment.
He picks up his phone and scrolls through Weverse and Twitter for a moment. Despite not being as active as people wish he could be, he does keep up with what everyone is talking about. Currently he sees excitement about their online concert from last year coming to DVD, and "JUNGKOOK'S ABS" is trending.
Yeah, he's definitely going to work out for his behind the scenes.
Holding his phone up, he snaps a quick selfie and posts it to Twitter. Once a month seems to be a good formula.
"Jungkook?" Yoongi's voice enters the room, "She's gonna shoot with Namjoon then you."
"Ah," Jungkook stands, "time to get nice and sweaty for ARMY."
"You're such a freak." Yoongi laughs, watching Jungkook leave the room.
Jungkook begins on the treadmill, listening to music and trying not to think about the fact that you're going to be photographing him while he's working out. He feels somewhat dumb, being so incredibly invested in your opinions of him already, but like yesterday proved, there was something about you that drew him in.
He speeds up the treadmill, his calves burning and his breathing quickening while he runs. It's incredible, the feeling of absolute bliss he feels after a run. When his muscles ache and his chest feels clear, he feels most at peace. Though, peace isn't difficult to come across these days. Even with the sadness of not being able to perform live like he wants to, it's not as looming as it was before. It's incredibly exhilarating to wake up not feeling like the end is near. It happened so suddenly, he's not sure what changed.
At the beginning, when they had to cancel the tour and stay in Korea, Jungkook felt as though life was never going to be the same. It was dark for everyone. He remembers Jimin crying in the bathroom after the cancellation, which caused Jungkook to start crying as well. He scrolled through social media for hours, reading the anger and frustration at those who had to return their tickets. It pained him, to see such a bleak view of the fans he adored.
Now that it's been close to 2 years, Jungkook has learned to-- for lack of a better term-- live with it. He wakes up every day and tries his hardest to live, and that's all you can do when your passion in life is ripped away from you due to an ongoing worldwide pandemic.
The gym doors slide open and Jungkook looks in the mirror to see you.
You have a camera around your neck, Jungkook recognizes it as a Canon. You close the door behind you and stop him as Jungkook starts to slow down the treadmill.
"Pretend like I'm not even here." you nearly whisper, and Jungkook has to stop himself from choking on his spit. Your voice sounded almost sultry. He can't tell if that was his imagination or if it was intentional on your part.
Jungkook shakes his head, turning up the speed just a little bit more.
He hears the shutter on your camera clicking, the action setting in full effect as he runs. You move around him, being sure not to get yourself in the mirror of the shots. The only noises in the room are his breathing and the sounds of his feet hitting the runway. It's rough, his chest heaving the more he pushes himself, but he's more interested in the way you seem to float around the room, or the fact that your hands seem dwarfed by the large camera.
It makes him wonder what your hands would look like on him.
A necklace dangles from your neck, it's gold and shines under the lights of the gym. It falls gently into the crevice of your chest, what looks like a golden moon on the end of the chain.
Again, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his.
"You gotta stop looking at the camera." you giggle.
He didn't even realize his eyes were following you. Suddenly, it's like a wave of confidence washes over him. Confidence that he was not ready for.
He swallows, taking a deep breath, "I'm not looking at the camera." Why is he saying this?
"Yes you are," you grin, "I have like 7 pictures in a row of you looking directly at the camera."
"No," he shakes his head, "I'm looking at the person holding the camera." Shut up, Jungkook. Stop talking!
"Oh?" you laugh, "what's catching your eye?"
"The necklace." what the fuck? He basically admitted to staring at your tits!
"The necklace that's right in between my tits?"
He laughs, you snap a picture.
"I guess so, I'm sorry." The usual nervousness that he would feel at an admission like that is non-existent. He feels comfortable enough to talk to you like this, and judging by the way you smile, you're comfortable with it too.
"No need to be sorry," you snap another picture, "I know they draw attention."
Jungkook nods, "They certainly do."
"What do you like about them?"
The question throws Jungkook for a loop but he doesn't let that show.
"They're perky," he explains, stopping the treadmill, "and your shirts show off the perfect amount to leave some to the imagination."
"Ah, so you're imagining my tits?"
"Yes."
You smirk, walking away. For a moment, Jungkook is scared he said too much, but it's very quickly washed away by the sound of the lock turning. "So," you begin, "you're saying that if I took off my shirt, you wouldn't be opposed to looking at me?"
Jungkook shakes his head, "I also wouldn't be opposed to touching you."
"Well," you slip off your shirt, "I'm ready."
Jungkook feels his cock twitch in his gym shorts at the sight of your bra. Of your fucking bra.
Despite the blood rushing to his cock, he shakes his head, "Oh come on, darling. You know that's not enough for me."
"Your shirt first, buddy." your eyes follow Jungkook as he grips the hem of his shirt and pulls it off. Now that there's verbal consent, your eyes roam all over his torso. He's ripped, Jungkook knows this, but under your gaze he feels like a meal. Like he's about to get devoured by you, and he can't say he's not enjoying the idea.
You reach behind you, unhooking your bra and allowing it to fall to the ground.
Jungkook's eyes widen at sight, stepping closer to you and falling to his knees. He places his nose against your torso, inhaling your scent. The sensuality of the small gasp that left your mouth fueled Jungkook. He grabs your hands and pulls you down to his level, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips.
It's rough and heated, all teeth and tongue. He's not used to being this way, to feeling almost primal in his movements. He gnaws at your bottom lip, eliciting another moan from you. It's high pitched and nearly whiny, proving that you're suddenly filled with as much need as he is.
"I'm gonna fuck you," Jungkook states, "right here. Right now."
"Please." you toss your head back, falling onto the padded floors of the gym. Jungkook follows suit, kissing his way down your body until he reaches your navel. Again, he presses his nose into you and inhales, you smell so damn good.
He keeps smelling, inhaling your scent as he undoes the buttons of your jeans. The less clothing there, the stronger your scent becomes. He feels insatiable, nearly ripping off your panties to get to your center.
"Fuck, you're so wet already," Jungkook groans, his voice deep with want, with need. Taking a single finger up your slit, he draws it back and sucks your juices clean, "and you taste as good as you smell."
You stare up at him with hooded eyes, holding yourself up on your elbows and spreading your legs as wide as you can. "Now that you've had a taste you might as well finish it."
Jungkook doesn't need to be told twice, diving into your soaked folds with his tongue. He moves fast but also meticulously, being sure to take note of all the places that make you moan a little louder, sink a little deeper into him. Your hand reaches down and snakes its way through his hair, tugging at the roots.
At that point, Jungkook begins to kick off his shorts without pulling away.
"Fuck, I've always wanted to fuck you," you moan in between words, "you always look so good everywhere you go."
"Yeah?" Jungkook chuckles, "did you imagine fucking me before you got hired here?"
You nod, "I couldn't help it, I knew you'd be good."
As Jungkook manages to get his shorts off, he grips ahold of his aching member. Pulling up to his knees, his thumb doesn't stop rubbing harsh circles against your clit.
"That's hot," Jungkook breathes, "I've been wanting to take you since I first saw you."
"Then do it." you demand, and a flip switches in Jungkook's brain.
He pulls his fingers away from you and leans forward, "Taste yourself."
You don't hesitate to take his fingers into your mouth, Jungkook feeling your tongue dance across the pads of his fingers. Feeling himself twitch, he strokes himself for a little bit of relief while you suck.
"Taste good?" He questions.
"Delicious."
"Good girl." He murmurs, leaning down and connecting your lips with his again. As he does so, he runs the head of his cock against your slit, enjoying the gasp you let out every time he brushes against your clit. You feel so warm, so inviting. He can taste you so well, he wants nothing more than to dive in.
So he does.
Pressing into you slowly, he feels your warmth envelope him. Your legs wrap around his hips and guide him in all the way. When he slips all the way in, you both pull away for a moan.
"So fucking good. So tight." He moves his hips achingly slow, enjoying the noises of content leaving your lips. Your moans spur him on as your tightness engulfs him yet again. He leans down and presses a kiss to your neck, your hot skin nearly burning his lips, "I don't want to hurt you."
You shake your head, "You can't hurt me. I promise."
Jungkook isn't sure what takes over him at this point, but he feels his lips begin to thrust harshly into you. He doesn't process the rest of the world, the only thing that's certain is you. You're everything that he needs to focus on now, your whines, your moans, the feeling of your legs guiding him in and out of you. He wants to take you here over and over again until the end of time, and he's never felt that about anyone before in his life.
Your lips are beginning to bruise from the rough kisses he's been laying on you, so he takes a gentle approach and sucks on your jawline. Every few thrusts, he rests his forehead against yours. Then he moves again. Then rests.
"Tell me how good I feel." you whisper against his lips, breathy.
"Baby," Jungkook's brows knit together in pleasure, "you feel so good around me. So warm. I want to cum in you and fill you up so bad. Do-n't stop squeezing- fuck."
Jungkook abandons the pace he tried to keep and slams into you, pulling you on top of him and lifting you up and down on his cock. You let out a scream as he reaches a point he hasn't touched before, your cunt tightening exponentially around him.
He latches his mouth onto your nipples, the sensitive peaks hardening against his tongue. Your nails rake down his chest while you grind against him, your ass smacking against his thighs while he begins thrusting upward.
His hands grip your hips harshly, sure enough to leave bruises by his fingertips. He feels his orgasm approaching quickly, but he needs you to cum first. He need to feel you cum around him. "Fuck," he growls through clenched teeth, "cum. I need you to cum. Cum around me, please please please!"
"I'm gonna- I'm-" your sentence is cut off by your orgasm taking over, clenching deliciously around Jungkook and pushing him over the edge. His hips stutter and he releases into you, your warmth mixing with his as he collapses onto the ground. You're both silent for a while, your chests heaving as you try to calm down. Jungkook leans up, keeping you in a hug as your knees move to either side of his hips. Neither of you make a move to pull apart, Jungkook softening inside of you but the sensitivity feels so good.
He rests his chin on your shoulder, glancing behind you and towards the mirrors. On the inner edge of each of your shoulder blades, lay two large scars. They're old, pink in color now. Jungkook reaches a finger up to trace the scars but is stopped by a knock on the door.
"Hey, I'm ready when you are _____!" Jimin's voice sounds through the gym, muffled by the door.
"Shit." You whisper, "shit, shit, shit!"
You quickly pull off of him, beginning to slip your panties and bra back on.
Jungkook flinches at the sudden loss of warmth around him, looking down at his cock and seeing a mixture of his and your cum coating his thighs. "Don't you need to clean up?" he whispers.
"I'll stop by the bathroom on the way." you murmur, now fully dressed, "thank you for that, by the way." you wink, grabbing the back of his neck and pressing a hard kiss against him. Then, you're out the door.
Jungkook is left naked on the floor, confused, and wanting to ask why exactly you have asymmetrical scars on your back.
#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#jungkook x reader smut#jungkook x reader fluff#jungkook x reader angst#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x reader smut#jungkook x you
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➽ corruption collab masterlist — hosted by @ultimate-astridwriting and @bummie ♥️
➽ note: definitely gonna come back and edit this a bit more because threesomes are hard as fuck, no pun intended lmao happy v-day everyone!
➽ word count: 3.2k
➽ cw/tags: polyamory + body worship + threesome + praise kink + public sex + choking + handjobs/fingering + vaginal sex + squirting + established relationship
➽ pairing: akaashi x fem!reader x bokuto
💿 1. nasty — ariana grande || 2. come on — jhene aiko
With Valentine's Day fast approaching, it becomes rather apparent that love and romance are in the air. Storefronts are decorated in bubblegum pinks and reds. Flower shops promote their special bouquet arrangements at discounted prices. Even your favorite hole in the wall coffee shop has fallen prey to the spirit of cupid as they announce their new strawberry shortcake dessert and heart-shaped scones.
In lieu of staying home for the third night this week, your boyfriends escort you to dinner at an upscale restaurant in the city. They treat you to a five-course meal and a bottle of wine even pricier than the dinner itself. One would think, after three years of dating, you would no longer be caught unawares by their spontaneity. And yet, here they are, once again pulling the rug from underneath your four-inch heels.
Your gaze flickers from Akaashi's tranquil smile to Bokuto's wide grin.
Adjusting the napkin in your lap, you open your mouth to speak, then pause as the right words fail it come. Brain short-circuiting instead, you let out a confused, "Huh?!"
"We're taking you to Italy!" Bokuto repeats, about ready to hop out of his seat with excitement. He looks to Akaashi, "Three nights in Venice, right 'Kaashi?"
"Yes, we decided on Venice after you told us you'd always wanted to visit. Remember Koutarou's birthday last year?"
"But that was like months ago! Did you two honestly hold onto that drunk little confession this entire time?"
"Of course."
"Yup!!"
It's in moments like these when you are reminded of their history together, first as teammates playing volleyball, and eventually close friends. Not much longer after that, you'd met and fallen for Akaashi, then Bokuto, and thus began the relationship of today. While you find it a little ridiculous, it seems neither of them has any qualms about this trip.
After all, you are their lovely girlfriend. Why wouldn't they want to make your wishes come true?
Bokuto claps his hands, eyes sparkling. "Everything's already planned out, babe, so don't worry your pretty little head, okay?"
You can't argue with that. Reaching over, you take Bokuto's hand in your right and Akaashi's in your left. "Alright, since you two went to all this trouble for me, I guess I'll just sit back and enjoy it."
♥️
Venice is just as beautiful as you imagined.
It looks as if it's floating upon blue-green waters with lots of sunshine, beautiful architecture, and a vibrancy that makes it feel like the city has a life of its own. You are grateful you didn't come by yourself. There is no way you would've enjoyed it without Akaashi and Bokuto at your side.
"We're about a ten-minute walk from Piazza San Marco," Akaashi says as he taps his glasses. His sharp gaze is locked on the map in his hands, likely committing most landmarks and details to memory. "Would you like to check it out?"
"Yeah! Let's do it."
"Off we go, go, go!"
Thus, a majority of your first day in Venice is spent sightseeing.
The three of you take a gondola ride through Canale Grande, then have a peek into the Gallerie Dell'Accademia at Akaashi's insistence, though naturally, you wouldn't have come all the way to Italy and not visited at least one art museum. Afterward, the three of you go to the Le Mercerie shopping district and buy gifts for your friends before finally taking a pit stop for the most delicious gelato in the city.
The sunsets sooner than expected, casting the entire block in deep red hues. Bokuto's mood is greatly influenced by it, and the jetlag certainly doesn't help. He props himself against you, nuzzling you in a way that says he's itching for a kiss.
"Tired, Kou?"
Bokuto hums. "A little... More hungry than anything."
He leans in and pecks your lips with a sated smile. "Maybe I should eat you. I mean, how is it my girl's so damn cute? Not fair, I can't resist."
You snort at Bo's silliness but can't help shivering a little at the tiny implication of his words. He always did like to lay his head on your thighs, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites where he could.
So, the thought of him eating you out made you squeeze your thighs together.
Akaashi approaches with your frozen treats held between his long fingers; having overheard Bokuto earlier, he tucks his wallet back into his pocket.
"We'll get some dinner after we drop off these shopping bags. How does that sound?"
You eagerly take your gelato from him with a smile.
"Sounds like a plan."
Akaashi nods, standing at your other side, close enough to brush elbows though not as close as Bokuto, who was nearly hovering.
The three of you are in one of the narrow, maze-like streetways, basking in the warm, early evening glow. The sweet taste of fruit and cream on your tongue fills you with so much contentment, especially while being with your favorite people. You aren't sure if anything could top the way you currently felt, and the trip has just barely started.
Upon arriving at your temporary place of residence, a quaint little villa on the waterfront just along the shore of Punta Sabbioni Beach, Bokuto immediately kicks off his sandals, dumps the bags, and promptly falls asleep on the couch.
"It's so weird seeing Kou like this." You remark. "On any normal day, he's brimming with almost too much energy, but now he's all tired."
"Well, he did stay up an entire twelve hours on the plane. It was only a matter of time before fatigue caught up to him." Akaashi picks up Bokuto's shoes with practiced ease and places them by the others.
There is a fond smile running along the edges of his mouth as he tucks a throw around the man's larger frame. You help him adjust a spare pillow under Bo's head and then set off to explore the rest of the area.
It seemed like everything about Venice was taken straight out of a romance film, with its cobblestone paths, gothic cathedral architecture, crisp ocean waters, and authentic Italian cuisine. It is no wonder the city's known to draw hapless souls together in romance. Even you fell subject to it, and by each passing moment, you crave to be with your boyfriends.
You are standing at the balcony overlooking the beach, satisfied with your inspection of the villa when Akaashi comes to stand behind you. He holds onto the railings, caging you in his arms, and rests his chin on your shoulder.
"He was right, you know." He murmurs. "You do look good enough to eat."
Blunt as ever. Apparently, something's never change.
Though one might say that Akaashi is as he's always been after high school and college, there is no denying his boost in confidence. After all, he had landed not one but two rather attractive partners.
He kisses your cheek, then your jaw, before latching onto your neck.
The sun's scenic view on the horizon, reflecting upon the beach sands of gold and shimmering orange waves, makes for an excellent backdrop.
You turn to face Akaashi and pull him into a heated kiss. His lips convey a sense of devotion to you, and with each press of them against yours, you can feel just how bad he's yearning for more.
"Kei," you whisper. "Let's go inside."
In a moment, Akaashi whisks you off your feet quite similar to how Bokuto would, though you both don't even make it to the bedroom.
Your other partner had sat up on the sofa, hair flat on one side, scrubbing his eyelids.
"Guys, I'm freaking starving!" Bokuto groans. "Let's get some food or something."
He doesn't even notice how you and Akaashi are breathing heavy or how your clothes are sporting wrinkles that were not previously there. Regardless, Akaashi has food delivered while you went ahead to shower the day's journey away. There are still two days left. You'd get your chance with them at some point.
♥️
Sadly, the entirety of day two is spent indoors. Heavy sheets of rain continue to fall, muddying the shoreline. The three of you huddle on the sofa wrapped in blankets with subtitled movies playing in the background.
Even though you would've much rather been out exploring in the city, just sharing in your boyfriend's warmth would suffice for now. Akaashi hands you a steaming cup of something rich in both color and smell.
"What's this?"
"Just espresso." He takes the empty seat beside you.
You savor the taste while leaning against his shoulder. "Mm, nice."
Bokuto keeps his head on your lap, loving how you thread your fingers into his hair.
It is a tranquil kind of peace that soon lulls you to sleep.
Later, when you finally wake up, it's dark, and you're alone. A blanket had been tucked around your shoulders to shield you from the sudden chill. At some point, the television had been shut off along with every light in the room. You might've been a little scared if not for the voices coming from the second floor. Slowly, you creep up the winding staircase, dragging along the blanket around your shoulders.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto chuckles. "You're finally up!"
His hair is down, wet from his shower, and he holds a thin towel together around his waist. In his hand is a cellphone, and he doesn't hesitate to shove the screen into your face. "Say hi, Tetsu!"
"Hi Y/N, how's it going?"
You blink slowly, still trying to wake yourself up.
"Kuroo, hey… I'm well. How are you?"
"Great, just about to head out for a late lunch. I hear it's almost ten pm over there."
"Yeah, it's an eight-hour time difference."
You and Kuroo continue to chat while Bokuto towels off his hair and puts on clothes. Afterward, you let Bokuto resume his conversation and join Akaashi on the bed. The man had gone full editor-mode with his glasses propped up in his hair as he read through some work documents.
When you approach, he greets you with a kiss on the cheek. "You look well-rested."
"Is that your way of telling me I have drool on my cheek, Keiji?"
He cracks a tiny smile, eyes taking in your features, then he pokes your cheek with his index finger. "Perhaps."
You scrub the corners of your mouth with your sleeve and drape yourself over Akaashi, work be damned. This was supposed to be a special weekend for relaxing.
"I really wanted to go to the beach today." You pout.
Akaashi interlocks his fingers with yours. "Maybe we still can. It stopped raining a few hours ago."
"Really?!"
You hop off the bed and head for the window. He's right, the rain had long stopped, and the beach lay bare, lit by only the moonlight.
Maybe a short walk to the beach would do you some good.
♥️
The grains of sand feel cold against your feet without the sun to beat down on them, but you don't complain. The air is humid enough on its own that you forgo wearing actual clothes and instead wear a swimsuit along with Bokuto's old Fukurōdani windbreaker.
You walk along the shore, toes digging into the sand, letting the ocean waves lap at your feet to wash them clean again.
At first, it's so eerily quiet without a soul around except you, but even that doesn't last long. You hear Bokuto's voice bellow into the night as he jogs towards you in nothing but swim trunks. Behind him, Akaashi trails slowly after with a blanket in hand.
"We thought you might want some company." He says and spreads the cover on the sand several feet away from the water, content with just watching.
Bokuto grabs your hand and you go running to the water with him, but a second later, you both come sprinting back.
"It's freezing!"
"S-So co-co-cold!"
You collapse on top of him, fingers splayed across his bare chest. However, when you try to sit up, Bokuto has other plans. He keeps you pressed to his chest with both arms around your waist.
"Let me keep you warm, baby!"
You know he meant it in the most innocent way, but you can't help but think other thoughts. Your nerves fray at the image that blooms in your head and spreads like wildfire.
And as Akaashi strokes your back, you know he's probably read your mind.
It's the way your eyes seem to glitter with want that gives it away. Akaashi has always been rather observant, and so your silent cues are something he's always been privy to.
His nimble fingers curve around the nape of your neck, and he tilts his head to capture your lips in a kiss. This one is unlike the one from yesterday. There is no rush, no desire to quicken his haste; instead, he savors the taste of you like it's something to be thoroughly enjoyed.
Underneath you, Bokuto stirs, growing aroused at the sight of his two lovers' kiss. He can't decide whether he wants to join in or sit back and watch. But his large hand comes down to stroke your ass, resulting in a moan you breathe directly into Akaashi's mouth.
"You're not usually so forthcoming, Keiji," you whisper against his lips. "Eager, are we?"
Akaashi pulls away just enough to pepper your face in feathery kisses. "Can you blame me? When I have such a lovely girlfriend here."
As if confirming his words, he slips a hand under your jacket and cups your breast. The pads of his thumb brush along the seams of your bathing suit, caressing your nipple.
"Kou, let's show Y/N just how much we love her, yes?"
Bokuto didn't need to be told twice. He had been in entranced by you and Akaashi, completely taken by the way your lips danced upon one another. But now, he wanted more than anything to touch you, kiss you, hold you.
Bokuto cradles you in his lap, propping your legs open with his knees so Akaashi can kneel in front of you. It didn't take much for him to relieve you of your clothing, namely your swimming bottoms. But the second the air hits your bare cunt, you feel tense.
You aren't sure what it was, but the atmosphere is different. Both Akaashi and Bokuto are so focused on you, it feels like you're under a spotlight.
"You're so pretty, so beautiful," Bokuto says while squeezing your thighs. His warm breath tickles your ear as he presses his nose into your neck. Next, his lips follow suit. "Wanna fuck you, so bad baby. You'd like that, right?"
His words earn him a chuckle from Akaashi, who merely licks two of his fingers, wetting them and sliding into you. Your mouth parts, shaky breaths barely expelled from your lungs. You're hyper-aware of the fact that you're literally being fingered on a beach in the middle of the night, and you can't bring yourself to care. It feels good to be pampered by the two men you love.
For every moan, Akaashi gives you double for your efforts, thrusting his fingers just right, curving them in such a way that has your back arching off Bokuto, who has also taken to fondling your nipples. With every roll of his hips, you feel his cock against your ass, and it pushes you further into Akaashi's fingers.
Your impending orgasm sweeps by so close and yet so far away. All you can do is rock yourself faster.
"Please," you whimper. "W-Wanna come."
Akaashi crooks his fingers, pressing into the perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching in intervals you have no control over until his hand is coated with your wet, slick juices that keep coming the more you squirt all over him.
"She's so wet 'Kaashi. Look at our pretty girl."
Akaashi places a chaste kiss on your forehead with a smile.
"She's doing well, so far. Let's see if she can keep going."
Bokuto shimmies his shorts off enough to free his hard cock. He had been uncharacteristically patient until now, but that was soon to change as he lines himself up with your cunt, teasing you with just the tip.
Your whining is unintelligible, but both men understand you more or less.
"Give the pretty girl what she wants," Akaashi says. He strokes his own hard-on at the sight of Bokuto's pushing past your wet folds. "I know she can take more than that."
Bokuto has always been girthy, and it takes you more than a few seconds to adjust to his size, but when you finally do, it feels like heaven.
The position you're in gives Bokuto all the power to thrust into you like a ragdoll. But it's only when you make eye contact with Akaashi that you realize that it's, in fact, the other way around for him in particular. From where he sits, stroking his cock with flushed cheeks and choked moans, you see just how much control you have over him.
"Kiss me." You moan.
Akaashi doesn't let you repeat yourself. He kisses you long and hard even as you grip his throat with one hand and his hair with the other. He kisses you until his lips are red and bruised.
"Good boy. Both of y-you."
Bokuto groans loudly. "Say it again. Keep saying it!"
"Y-You're both so good. I-" your hips stutter against Akaashi's fingers that are rubbing circles into your clit. "Good, so good-"
That's all it takes to take Bokuto over the edge, blowing his load. "Perfect, so fucking perfect."
You can feel another orgasm swelling up inside your belly. You try to tell them but can't, too overcome by the feeling of your body tingling with desire. It's too much, overwhelmingly so; your vision blurs with unshed tears as Bokuto continues to pound into sopping pussy. Pleasure floods every fiber of your being until you're limp and every nerve in your body is set alight.
Bokuto slips out of you easily, a string of his semen following.
You can only look on in a drowsy haze as Bokuto leans over and kisses you and then Akaashi, working him over with a tight fist.
♥️
The following morning, you’re the first to wake, but only because there’s a limb jammed into your back and a heavy weight on your chest. It takes you a moment to realize, but it’s Bokuto’s elbow poking you and Akaashi’s head resting on you.
All three of you are a tangle of limbs in bed, but you aren’t sure how you’d gotten there.
“G’mornin’” Bokuto breathes. His lips caress the column of your neck.
“Morning.”
You shift into a more comfortable position. Though doing so presses Akaashi’s morning wood against your thigh.
“Keiji, you awake yet?”
“Mmm barely.” Akaashi looks up at you through his lashes, then smiles and nuzzles closer into your chest.
Bokuto, content with being your big spoon, reaches over to touch Akaashi, hands cupping his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day!”
“That’s true, should we do something special.”
Thinking about the previous night, you feel desire stirring in your gut. “Could we just... do it again?”
Both men look to each other then back at you, sporting matching smiles.
“Why not?”
#bokuaka x reader#bokuto x reader#koutarou bokuto x reader#akaashi x reader#keiji akaashi x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu smut
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Prompt List #5
Other Prompt Lists
“Have you ever kissed anyone before?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”
Kissing on sofa, foreheads pressed together, breathy, soft tender.
“Sometimes I wonder if you even like me...it sure feels like you hate me sometimes.”
“You were supposed to be my friend. That’s all...that’s all I asked of you. To be my friend. To care.”
“I look at him/her/them and I just..it’s like when the Grinch’s heart grows three sizes.”
“I don’t...i’ve never...been in a relationship and i’m going to make mistakes...I just need you to tell me. I need you to talk to me.”
“You really thought I was dead?”
“I want to believe, I do...I just...how can I believe in something that I can’t see?”
“You didn’t tell me your friend was cute! Now what am I going to do?”
“I feel sick…so anxious and sick and like my heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest.”
“Can we just make a decision? Please?”
“You don’t know what you do to me, do you?”
“I just want you to be safe. That’s all i’ve ever wanted for you!”
“I want you to be happy...even if its not with me.”
“I want to feel like this forever.”
“You give me a reason to be better, to do better.”
“God, you are so fucking cute.”
“I love you, but I need you to go away because you’re really bloody distracting and I have to pass this test tomorrow.”
“I...I can’t do this without you.”
“Don’t forget me?”
“You weren’t there...why weren’t you there?”
“I needed you! I needed you!”
“Now it’s over...I don’t really know what to do.”
“Do you ever think?”
“I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”
“How can you drink that stuff?”
“Oh no...he’s/she’s/they’re cute.”
“I can’t talk to cute people, okay? I don’t know how to flirt!”
“Sometimes you love someone and you don’t want them to leave...because if they’re beside you, you can see that they’re safe and you can keep them safe. But, if they go somewhere without you...you might lose them”
“No one has a romantic bone in their body anymore! What happened to playing songs outside windows, glitter and sparkles on handmade Valentine’s cards, dancing in the rain!? What happened?!”
“I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You are so important to me, you are such a big part of my life, that I just...I can’t imagine you not here.”
“I just want you to be happy...”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“Stop apologising for other people! You’re not the shitty one!”
“I want someone I can melt around. I want someone who melts around me too...I don’t want this standoffish, unromantic love that you’re offering. I want more than that.”
“I want to write you poetry, to write songs about you and draw your portrait! I want to make things for you! It frustrates the hell out of me hat I can’t draw and I can’t sing or write or play instruments or paint...You inspire me so fucking much...”
“You don’t own her/him/them. You don’t get to choose who they choose. I don’t get to choose who they choose. No one, but them, gets to make that decision.”
“Stop being a fucking dick.”
“That’s another way of saying you’re an arsehole.”
“Can anyone else hear those Jumanji like drums? Or is it just me?”
“God, I love your face.”
Twirling a strand of their hair
Foreheads pressed together, breath intertwining, slow, content affection
“Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that. You’re so much more than that. You’re so...”
“I’m only important when you need something from me.”
“I am fed up of half measures. I deserve better”
“Don’t look at me! I’m a mess!”
“I love it when you’re a mess!”
“Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting”
“I don’t think you’re annoying...I know...I don’t...I really like listening to and hearing what you have to say even if its a lot sometimes..”
“I just want to be swept off my feet...is that so bad? I’m fed up of being alone.”
One reaching for the others hand to comfort them, to provide support. A thumb brushing lightly against skin.
Reciting poetry at the other in a dramatic and very public fashion
Those period shirts with the puffy sleeves and the deep v and one staring at the other like... oh no he/she’s hot.
Heart eyes when the other talks, sings, dances, argues, does literally anything especially things which others make fun of them for or find annoying
“Oh, my ankle! I think it must be broken!” *wink* *wink*
“I want you to be proud of yourself. I want you to believe that you’re good enough because you are. You’re so amazing.”
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
“I haven’t slept since they/him/her left/died”
“You are an uncultured swine! There I said it!”
“I know I should be happy...I did well...I always do well...so why can’t I believe in myself?”
“Please do your homework, for me? Just one time...”
“I said one time, y’know...you didn’t have to actually start studying. Not that I’m not proud or anything.”
“Go big or go home”
“I’m already home.”
“I lost my wellie boot in the river...”
“I wish I knew who they were...”
“It was that bad here?”
“I look at you and I...I feel so sad because I love you but I also have been hurt so many times that I don’t think I can forgive and forget.”
Brushing hair from their face
Leaning into the others hand, turning their head and pressing a kiss to the palm
“I didn’t take you for the settling down type.”
Speaks in a terrible Shakespearean/Elizabethan style to woo/make the other laugh
“Should I go first or...do you want to go?”
“If you want to leave, we can leave.”
“I don’t want to ruin your party.”
“You could never ruin anything.”
“Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.”
“Please don’t make me choose.”
“I can finally understand why you call them your arch-nemesis...What. A. Dick.”
“Poetry isn’t supposed to be good, it’s supposed to make you feel things!”
“If you don’t get that stick out of your arse, i’ll do it myself and beat you with it.”
“Could you come get me?”
“Stop moving! I’m going to have to start counting all over again!”
“I just thought that since you weren’t feeling too good, maybe this would help.”
The one stumbling to the other’s front door after getting hurt/beaten up etc.
“Oh my heart it breaks! It shall never be whole again!” “She/He/They break up with you every other month. Shouldn’t it be used to the disappointment by now?”
“I thought you said no more dangerous stunts?”
“I’m not kissing you in the rain! We’ll catch our death!”
“Where’s your adventurous spirit?!”
“A walk in the woods might do you some good. Clear your head.”
“You have wronged me so bitterly...”
“Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?”
“Please get me away from him. He hasn’t left me alone all night and I am this close to committing a murder.”
“I apologise sincerely if my handsome/beautiful face has kept you awake all night.”
Massages but the sort that are actually practical and helpful. Like babe, you’re so uncomfortable let me help because you’re clearly in pain
“Would it help if I stayed?”
“So I had this really vivid dream...”
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