#and in your mind he's left you far far behind 🥺 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scottiexmariee · 2 months ago

Note

omg ive been highly enjoying ur fics and hcs!!! i think u wrote their characters very spot on 🥺 the jail one got me thinking... can i request the lads boys reacting to the reader getting in trouble after punching someone. bc someone talked shit about the boys and wanted to defend their honor or smth lmfao ty!!! 💕

omg anon lemme kiss u on the forehead

I almost did a backflip when I read this, I was so happy to write it. This one took a bit longer to write so I do apologize, but I was reeeeally on a mission to deliver some good plot here

Some are a bit longer (coughSyluscough) but I really hope you enjoy <3

Defending Their Honor

Pairings: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k (oops)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Lore references. Reader throwing hands. FEELINGS. Soft Sylus. -Scottie is allergic to happiness.

Masterlist

Note: I got possessed when I wrote Sylus' and probably should have made him his own fic. I am not sorry. It is longer than the others. I am bashing my head against the keyboard. Please forgive me.

☆ “While I’m honored, you didn’t have to do that on my behalf,”

☆ ^ Giggling and kicking his feet on the inside though

☆ He’d also return the favor with no hesitation if the situation was ever reversed

☆ ^ You will NOT diss his lady in his presence

☆ Y’all are def cuddling for the rest of the night as soon as you get home

Xavier really needed to learn to stop taking his eyes off of you when the two of you were out in public.

The two of you had gone on a fun little outing to Linkon’s version of a pop-up carnival. There were games, food vendors, live music, and tons of people. He knew how badly you’d wanted to go, so of course you nearly jumped right into his arms when he showed up at your apartment after lunch and told you to get ready.

So far, it had been good. The two of you had played a couple games, won some prizes, even took chances with a few questionable rides. You had walked around, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s presence and making new memories together.

It had been seconds. Seconds. You were both, unsurprisingly, hungry after walking around for a few hours. Xavier, being the knight in shining armor that he is, had walked up to one of the nearby food vendors to grab a snack for the two of you, innocently leaving you near a blue park bench. When he finished, you had disappeared.

He stared at the now empty park bench, snacks in hand, completely baffled. He did a quick scan of the area, only to see a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone being escorted to the exit by two security officers.

But that person almost looked like they were wearing the same outfit as you.

Xavier squinted. Surely not, right?

He caught up quickly, nearly stumbling when his suspicions were confirmed. That was absolutely you being dragged to the front of the park.

He lagged behind quietly, saying nothing, but already accepting the fact that your fun carnival date was apparently over.

You were given a verbal warning and kicked out of the park, being told not to come back for the remainder of this year’s visit. If you came back, it would be trespassing.

You were getting ready to text Xavier when you realized he was right in front of you, nibbling on some type of skewer he’d gotten from the vendor. “Sooo…” He began, eyeing you curiously.

“I may or may not have slapped someone,”

His eyes immediately widened, his mind running through every possible scenario.

“What happened? Did someone touch you?” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin for injuries.

“No! No, it’s….nothing like that,”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Then….?”

Suddenly, you were a bit embarrassed. It had been so stupid. How was he even going to react to this?

When Xavier had left you by the bench, a man that looked to be around your age approached and asked for your number.

“I know you just saw me with someone.”

“So?”

“Not interested,”

“Why? Because of that loser? You could do better.”

That was it. That was the reason you’d backhanded the disrespect right out of that man’s bloodline.

Xavier was….so many things. Incredibly kind, thoughtful, and just so deliciously him. You adored him the same way he adored you, and had him on a pedestal that no one could even close to touching. You could do better? Not possible. There was not a soul in this galaxy that was better than Xavier. At least, not to you.

Hearing someone speak lowly of him when you truthfully couldn’t even articulate how incredible he was? Yeah, instant slap.

You kept your explanation short. “Some guy called you a loser,” You said, rubbing your arm sheepishly.

Xavier almost giggled.

“So….you slapped him?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the reality of how out-of-pocket the whole thing was finally setting in.

Surprisingly, Xavier laughed. It was soft, filled with fondness and mirth. He pulled you into a loving embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. He'd be lying to the both of you if he said he wouldn't do something similar.

“I’m honored,” He began, his voice muffled by your hair, “but you don’t have to slap people on my behalf,”

“I’ll always defend you, whether you’re in the room or not,” You responded, your tone firm and completely serious.

Xavier stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around you still, feeling like the luckiest guy alive. The thought of you backhanding someone for calling him something as simple as a loser was almost hysterical, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. You were really something else.

After a moment, he pulled back, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go. There’s plenty of time left for us to turn this night around,”

❅ okay listen I love Zayne

❅ but he's kinda emotionally constipated sometimes (at least on the OUTSIDE)

❅ the logical side of him wants to scold you and tell you that this wasn't necessary

❅ but the emotional side, the side that is harder for him to articulate, is lowkey flattered that you'd go that far to defend his name

Zayne slowly paced back and forth in the lobby of the city’s police station, the only sounds in the room being the tap of his shoes on the linoleum floor and the ticking of a clock on the wall. He glanced toward the clock. It had been 20 minutes since he’d come to retrieve you, and he was growing impatient.

The two of you were in another city for an awards banquet. You’d come along simply to support Zayne, your absolute favorite person in existence (who just so happened to be an incredible Doctor that was receiving multiple awards for his work).

Imagine Zayne’s surprise when the banquet ended and he couldn’t find you anywhere. It was extremely out of character for you to disappear when it came to things like this, especially while you were in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Linkon. You wouldn’t have simply left without so much as a ‘congratulations’, not to mention that Zayne had been your ride here.

By the third time your phone had gone to voicemail, Zayne was nervous. That was when he started asking around. He’d pulled up a photo of you, showing it to various employees and asking if anyone had happened to see you leave.

It was a security guard that told him you’d been arrested.

He left immediately, having the directions already pulled up before he made it out to the car.

Now, he paced, an amalgamation of concern, confusion, and stress.

A buzzing sound emanated from somewhere down the hall, and Zayne’s head whipped toward the sound to see you being led out by an officer, still wearing the outfit that matched his tie color.

The red knuckles weren’t easy to miss.

While he did still open the car door for you, he chose a tactical silence for the duration of the car ride. There wouldn’t be a single word spoken until you were back in the hotel room. This was a calculated method by Zayne. He knew you’d be absolutely squirming by the time you guys made it back, and that was exactly what he wanted.

The door to your shared room clicked shut behind Zayne, who’d entered behind you. He leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his eye flitting between your flustered face and reddened knuckles on your dominant hand.

It was hard to take him seriously when he looked that handsome in a tux.

“I…may have overreacted,” You finally said, your voice coming out timid.

“Can you go anywhere without picking a fight?” He responded, his tone exasperated.

You swallowed.

“I can…”

Zayne took a steadying breath. He moved from the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,”

You had been out looking at all of the posters on the wall, reading the lists of different accomplishments and awards printed under each attendee, waiting for the banquet to end. Zayne had already received his awards, but was still backstage and not allowed to leave. Some of the audience, including you, had stepped out of the auditorium throughout the banquet. You had originally just wanted some air. The auditorium had been stuffy, and the fancy outfit you had on was not helping.

While you were out admiring the different posters, you heard a woman making some pretty rude comments about the poster she and her friends were in front of. At first, you just scoffed. You couldn’t imagine being so bitter. Was it so hard to be supportive of others, even if they weren’t the one you came for?

And then, you realized which poster she was standing in front of.

Zayne.

Imagine this: You happen to be involved with an incredibly smart, talented, and stunning man that just so happens to be a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at only 27 years old. The same man that has made evolutionary discoveries and progress in treating cardiac abnormalities. The same man that you absolutely adored, and wanted nothing but the absolute best for. All of this is great, right? Now imagine hearing someone say something completely horrible about him right in front of you.

At first, the confrontation had started off as just a scolding. You’d told the woman that it wasn’t right to say horrible things about the attendees. They all did such incredible things that they were receiving awards for, after all. This was not the place for such behavior.

And then, she just….kept going.

Before long, you’d quickly ended the conversation with an abrupt bitch-slap. Security had already been approaching when your hand connected with her face. You weren’t going to tell Zayne this, but you’d actually gotten tackled.

You gave Zayne the shortened version of the story, leaving out all of the gushing.

Initially, he was quiet again as he tried to process what you’d just told him.

Lady. Talking bad. Zayne. Slap.

For a moment, he couldn’t understand why you’d even resort to that. But when he looked at you, looking at him with eyes full of love and respect, he softened a little. While he didn’t necessarily agree with your methods, who was he to dictate how a person should react to any scenario?

He patted the spot next to him, still trying to form an appropriate response. You sat willingly, leaning into his side. He looped an arm around your waist.

You sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he finally spoke.

“The logical part of me should scold you, (Y/N). That was a bit overboard,”

You looked up at him. His words implied that the logical part of him wasn’t the one that was winning whatever internal battle he had going on. “And what does the other part of you think?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Truthfully?”

You nodded, nearly melting at the sudden affection. His lips showed the faintest hint of a smile. “Truthfully, I’m flattered,”

❀yk how Raf blushes and pouts when you do the Heartbeat interaction??

❀ yeahhhh

❀ but also.....feelings

When Rafayel learned you’d been thrown out of his newest exhibition, he was initially pretty offended. He didn’t even want to be there to begin with. You were the only reason he’d forced himself to come, though he’d never admit it out loud. He had an arsenal of complaints ready to fire off the second he met you outside, after he reasoned with security, of course.

It was Thomas who had weaved through the crowd, placed an urgent hand on Rafayel’s shoulder, and leaned close to speak for only the artist’s ears: “Security just dragged (Y/N) out of here. She hit someone,”

The confrontation had luckily gone mostly unnoticed. It happened quick, and security had whisked you out. You’d gone willingly, and the man you’d struck no longer felt like sticking around either.

Somewhere during the short walk from the back of the building to the front doors, your reason for lashing out had gotten lost in translation. Rafayel was under the impression that you’d thrown hands because someone had dissed his art.

That, however, was an unfortunate misunderstanding.

It wasn’t his art that the man had described as ‘worthless.’ It was Rafayel.

Rafayel had smooth-talked security into letting you come back inside, with the condition that you would not be a problem for the remainder of the night.

Rafayel had been flattered, but definitely thought you’d overreacted.

“Not everyone can say they have a bodyguard this protective over art,” He teased, casting an amused glance in your direction. “Think we can make it through the rest of today without another attack?”

You’d rolled your eyes, still a bit peeved. Who the hell comes to an exhibit specifically to dog the artist, anyway? “That’s not even what happened,” You grumbled.

“People critique art all the tiiime. That doesn’t mean they should get assaulted over it,”

“It’s different,”

“I’m just saying. I’ve never punched anyone at an art gallery. Maybe you’re taking the Bodyguard title too seriously,”

“Rafayel. You were the art,”

Rafayel came to an abrupt stop, the air seemingly vanishing from his lungs. He’d heard you. He’d definitely heard you. His brain, however, was doing backflips, struggling to process your last sentence.

You were the art.

The gears clicked into place, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each passing second. In all honesty, he was conflicted. He was torn between the all-encompassing warmth, the feeling of being appreciated and thought so highly of that you would deck someone in the face purely for speaking ill on his name. The other half of him felt almost bitter.

You were that same silly girl with a bad memory. And yet, here you were, fighting someone off of instinct when they said something nasty about him.

You could do that, yet there was so much you couldn’t remember.

He was in a war with his thoughts and emotions, and unbeknownst to you, you were once again the cause.

He finally collected himself, masking the emotional roller coaster he’d just been on with a chuckle. He patted the top of your head, settling on a teasing comment rather than risking opening the floodgates.

“You’re so weird, Miss Bodyguard,”

Rafayel would end up finding you in every lifetime, over and over again, no matter the cost. He’d remember every promise, every touch, every stolen moment. Yet, in every single timeline, you always found a way to make his head spin and his heart do cartwheels in his chest.

This would forever stick out as one of those moments.

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ SOFT SYLUS.

Sylus had invited you to tag along on yet another negotiation. He’d claimed he just liked having you at his side, but he truthfully respected your input more than he’d admit out loud. He’d often bring you along under the guise of keeping him company, but would subtly pay attention to your body language and facial expressions. If you weren’t going to bite, neither was he.

After the first negotiation you attended, you as Sylus’ +1 became a much more frequent occurrence. As long as he was in the room, your safety was guaranteed. Not to mention how a lot of potential deals went off a little smoother when you were in the room to ease the tension.

Today, the two of you were headed to a hotel a few cities away to meet with a man named Michael. You didn’t have many details about the deal, but you had the basics. If there was anything you needed to know, Sylus would tell you.

It had taken you exactly 6 seconds after entering the room to decide that you did not like Michael. There was just something about him that had already gotten on your nerves. The arrogance? The ‘up-to-no-good’ vibe he absolutely reeked of? The way he looked at the two of you like you were nothing more than pests the moment you walked in?

While it was just you and Sylus on your side of the bargain, Michael had 6 armed guards scattered through the room, which added to your irritation. Michael was clearly a man that thrived off intimidation, yet was too cowardly to have an even playing field.

Sylus never lost his nonchalance. He strode in like he had nothing to lose, suave and unbothered. He kept a hand pressed lightly against the small of your back as he guided you to a seat, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine.

The meeting had began, but not without Sylus catching how your mood had soured considerably within the first 10 minutes.

The more Michael talked, the shadier the whole ordeal seemed. He was boasting about some modified protocore that was the ‘best on the market,’ and trying to goad Sylus into purchasing it.

Sylus wasn’t dumb by any means. But Sylus was also a man that would humor someone for his own entertainment. “Show it to me,” He said, his tone even.

One of the guards gestured for Sylus to follow, and he immediately turned to you, waiting for you to come as well. Instead, you shook your head. You didn’t want to risk being ambushed when you came back if both of you left. Sylus trusted your judgment, knowing that he would be gone for less than 5 minutes. With a quiet “Behave,” cast in your direction, he disappeared with the guard.

The second the door shut behind him, Michael turned to one of his guards and said something you probably weren’t supposed to hear. “I’m going to walk that bastard like a dog, just watch.”

Oh?

In hindsight, it would have been better to keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was give Sylus a signal when he returned, and he would call this off with no hesitation. Your opinion mattered, after all. He didn’t just bring you to these meetings to serve as eye candy. Knowing this, you should have just brushed Michael’s comment off. However, it had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn’t shake off. The words were leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’d like to see you try,”

Michael, and all 5 of his remaining guards, immediately looked at you as if locking onto a target. The tension in the room intensified considerably.

Michael scoffed, looking at you as if you were a bug he’d stepped on. You glanced toward the door Sylus had stepped out of moments before, half expecting him to be standing there with an amused smirk on his face. He wasn’t, though.

Michael was on his feet, taking slow steps toward the chair you were sitting in. Despite the shaking in your fingers, you stayed put. “You must think so highly of him,” He drawled, zeroing in on you. “I didn’t know a man like that could catch the attention of a pretty thing like you,”

You didn’t know why, but your anger was rising with each passing second. The implication of his words was clear, but you wanted to hear him say it. It was obvious that he thought of himself higher than Sylus, and clearly didn’t have many polite thoughts about him. You and Sylus weren’t necessarily a… ‘thing,’ per se. Not yet, anyway. So why did this piss you off so badly?

“A man like what?” You challenged, staring up at Michael. In your lap, your hands, that had been neatly folded, were slowly clenching into fists.

Michael's mouth twisted into a wolfish, arrogant grin. “I’d say he takes up more space than he’s worth. Cocky, foolish, insufferable–”

Your fist had connected with his jaw before he could get another word out, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw as he tried to regain his footing.

It would take you about a week to fully process how the next 15 seconds had gone.

At first, the silence was so intense that you could audibly hear the rapid beat of your own heart.

Then, guns were raised and pointed directly at you. 5 from the guards, all at separate angles, and one directly in front of you from Michael himself.

Next, gunfire. A lot of gunfire. Multiple shots ringing out from 6 different directions.

You weren’t exactly sure when Sylus had entered, but he apparently had the timing of a God. You’d been whisked out of harm's way, somehow completely uninjured. You realized later that he likely used his evol somewhere in the mix.

Once safely away from the hotel, Sylus turned to face you, lips set in a thin line but his expression otherwise neutral. He studied you for a long moment.

“That went well,” He said, his tone lacking any amusement. “Should I not trust you enough to leave you unattended for two minutes?”

You folded your arms over your chest. You didn’t trust the sound of your voice yet. You knew you owed him an explanation, but the adrenaline was still too high and you were still too angry to speak.

Sylus checked you for any injuries and then, to your surprise, grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“You need to be more careful who you pick fights with,” He warned. His tone was firm, but not unkind. He knew you were more than capable of handling yourself. It was one of the things he appreciated about you. However, the fight today had left a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he hadn’t been in the room the entire time. It could have been a lot worse, and you weren’t bulletproof. This was the first time he’d left you alone for more than 30 seconds, and it had ended with you in a shootout.

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been talking shit about you the second you walked away,” You retorted, your voice coming out bitter. “Right in front of me. It was just…disrespectful.”

Sylus, who had assumed Michael had started it on his own, was stunned. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have any quips or sarcastic comments to make. That was what had caused the fight? You, the same person that used to look at him with so much distrust and caution, had thrown yourself into a fight to defend his name while he wasn’t in the room.

Sylus was silent for a moment, his eyes combing your face for any hint of deception. When your words finally sank in, he nearly melted on the spot. The adoration he’d already felt was intensified. The warmth he felt in his chest was almost too much, and he wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or kiss you.

Instead, he gently tugged you against his chest, choosing to simply hold you for a moment. It felt like the only correct option. His chin rested against the top of your head, one arm looped around your back as the other cradled your head. He was absolutely flattered, and outrageously smitten.

Yeah, he had it bad.

“Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and do something else that surprises me,” He murmured fondly, rubbing small circles into your back. You were an endless mystery to him. But as he stood there, holding you against him, he knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life trying to figure you out.

Note: 1.4k words just for Sylus I am SO SORRY but I needed this man getting all soft with this prompt slkdhjsalkhd

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onlyswan · 1 year ago

Text

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you��re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts imagine #bts fanfic

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ellecdc · 10 months ago

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hi again tehe! can i request poly!marauders or poly!wolfstar (whichever you choose) with a reader who's touch starved? like she just really wants a hug and a night at home cuddled up with her boyfriends but she's afraid to ask 🥺🥺🥺 maybe they tell her she doesn't have to ask for anything like that, cue the hurt/comfort?? thank u so much if you do decide to do this babe!!

hi darling!!! so I took this in a bit of a direction (I hope you don't mind): touch starved reader who also happens to be James' sister and it's a secret relationship!! this was so fun - thanks for your request

poly!wolfstar x potter!sister reader

You didn’t even have a right to feel this way right now; this had been your idea.

The three of you had been hesitant to announce your...unique relationship to your friends on account of you being James’ sister. But it was you who had decided to keep your addition to the relationship a secret. You liked seeing Sirius and Remus out in public knowing that they were stealing furtive glances your way every so often. You especially liked the shared looks, the hidden touches, all of the intimate moments you had right in front of everyone that no one ever saw.

But today...today, it hurt.

You felt so unbelievably dejected all day, feeling as if you were crawling out of your skin with want. You wanted to be held, caressed, comforted, squeezed.

But you were left having to wrap your own arms around yourself and hope for the best.

You’d gotten to the Great Hall and sat in your usual place across the table from Remus and Sirius, each of whom shared a soft smile and wink at you in a secret hello while James lamented about the Chudley Cannon’s most recent win. You felt someone’s foot – Remus’, if what you were feeling was indeed a pair of converse shoes and not Sirius’ Doc Martens – gently nudge your ankle and tried to let that be enough for now.

But it wasn’t enough, because immediately after dinner the gang all gathered together in the Gryffindor common room to set up for the party, and then immediately after that, you and the girls left to change, and by the time you were finished with that, the party was in full swing.

So, you were sitting on a loveseat pushed up against your brother who was gesturing dramatically as he recounted the Marauders latest prank on Slytherin whilst your boyfriends sat across from you, Sirius’ head in Remus’ lap as Remus ran his fingers through the other boys’ hair, both of their eyes on James as they corrected various pieces of his story. And whilst this view would usually warm your heart or cause butterflies in your stomach, right now it filled you with grief and longing.

It wasn’t fair to even ask because it had been your idea, but why did it have to be you? Why were you the one who had to sit here and pine? The one who had to find ways to comfort themselves while affection was given and taken freely between the other two as often as their hearts desired.

And then you felt guilty because you were happy that they had this with each other. But you wanted it for you.

“Prongs! Do you wanna go see who might be interested in a round of truth or dare?” Sirius asked, interrupting James mid-sentence. You figured that if James a) hadn't been as tipsy as he currently was or b) didn’t really want to play truth or dare, Sirius’ interruption would have vexed him.

“Great idea, Pads.” He opted to say, jumping up to go ask partygoers who may be interested in a game.

“Come on.” He said to you quietly then, gesturing with his head for you to follow him and Remus up to their dorm.

You felt simultaneously overjoyed at the opportunity for alone time with your boyfriends, and nervous that you were about to get a scolding for your sulking.

You walked through the door and Remus closed it behind you as Sirius turned to give you a look laced with concern. “What’s the matter dolly? You seem far away.”

Your eyes welled and your sinuses filled painfully as you let out a whimper. “I’m sorry.” You moaned miserably.

Sirius look like you had ripped him in half as Remus rushed to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Awe, dovey.” He cooed. “What’s going on?”

“It’s silly.” You cried, tightening your hold around yourself as you looked to the floor in shame.

“It’s not silly if it has you this upset, baby girl. Please? What’s the matter?” Sirius begged, taking a step towards you.

“I...I just- ugh.” You tried, looking to the ceiling as if you could convince your tears to ebb through sheer determination.

“I just missed you guys today.” You said, sobbing halfway through your sentence.

“Oh, dovey.” Remus moaned commiseratively. He turned your body towards him and pulled you flush to his chest, and you were abashed at how quickly the tension left your body as you melted into his embrace.

“Sweetheart.” Sirius called to you. His tone sounded like it wanted to be chiding, but it was too full of love to do much other than make you whimper in response. “You mean you’ve been feeling this sad all day because you wanted a hug?”

You were so unbelievably embarrassed, but you knew there was no point in lying so you nodded miserably into Remus’ chest.

Sirius scoffed. “Well, that just won’t do.” He stated as he came up behind you and hugged you awkwardly between him and Remus, causing you to chuckle wetly.

“It doesn’t have to be like this; you know that, right?” Remus murmured into your hair. “Pads and I are more than ready to tell James.”

“Been ready for far too long.” Sirius pouted behind you.

“I just...I don’t... I don’t know. I don’t want to tell him.” You argued.

“But I want to be able to hug my sweet girl whenever she needs a reminder of how loved she is.” Remus countered.

“And I want to snog you in front of the whole Great Hall so that they all know exactly who you come home to at night.” Sirius added.

You made a sound between a laugh and a groan as your burrowed impossibly further into Remus’ chest.

“James came first...” You admitted, voicing your greatest insecurity. “I don’t want him to have an influence on this. I don’t want to have to share this with him.”

Remus hummed in understanding, but you could feel Sirius shaking his head behind you.

“He’s already been sharing this with you, and you with him; he just hasn’t known he was.”

“He may be miffed at first, you’re right about that.” Remus conceded. “But that won’t change the way that Sirius and I treat you, and he won’t stay mad forever.”

“He’ll likely be the most miffed to find out we’ve been hiding this, quite frankly.” Sirius concluded.

You sniffled and rested your ear against Remus’ chest, listening to his heartbeat as he rubbed soothing circles into your back, and Sirius trailed his hands up and down your arms.

This is all you wanted, right here. You didn’t want your brother to know. Not yet. Because though you trusted Remus and Sirius, you knew that some things were bound to change once James found out.

“It hurts me too, not being able to reach out to take your hand at breakfast. To not be able to carry your books and walk you to all your classes.” Remus said.

Sirius hummed in agreement. “And I’ve wanted to punch every single bloke I’ve ever seen even look at you right in the mouth. And I can’t, because that would be weird, and it sucks.”

“We have to tell him eventually, dovey.” Remus pressed seriously. “I don’t want you feeling like this for a single moment longer.”

You groaned in protest, but you knew that it was futile. You were going to have to tell your brother, or he was going to find out. Either way, one day James Potter would know that his two best friends were dating his twin sister.

“Can we tell him tomorrow?” You yielded. Remus physically deflated and you heard Sirius sigh in relief.

“Oh, thank gods.” Sirius whispered.

“Thank you, dove. You’re so brave.” Remus said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Had anyone else said that to you, you would have thought them to be patronizing. But you knew Remus truly meant what he said.

“And just in case James does condemn me from the Potter Manor, I’ll just go stay with Moons.” Sirius said jovially.

You knew that would never happen, and you knew that Sirius knew that would never happen. Which meant he’d only said it so he could see you smile.

“I love you.” You said reverently as you lifted your head from Remus’ chest. “Both of you, so much.”

Remus smiled in adoration whilst Sirius looked proper chuffed with himself. “Still can’t believe a disowned blood traitor managed to land the two most perfect wix in all of Hogwarts.”

Remus snorted. “I still can’t believe this poor half-blood half-breed werewolf managed to pull two of the most wonderful wix in the school.” He countered.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “I can’t believe I ended up with such saps.”

“Oi!” Sirius barked at you whilst Remus sucked in a dramatic gasp.

“You little minx.” He growled at you before he pushed you backward onto the bed and laid his long body across the top of you. You groaned dramatically, pretending as if you were suffocating under Remus’ weight even though you could tell he was supporting himself in such a way to keep the brunt of his weight off of you, even though this is exactly what you’d been looking for only moments before.

“Sorry Pads, now you gotta go play truth or dare with Prongs while I coddle our poor girlie.”

Sirius scoffed indignantly. “Fine! But if I pick truth and someone asks me who the best snogger in Hogwarts is, I’m saying Y/N!” And with that, he fled the room.

“You know what?” You said calmly. “If he lets it slip when neither of us are there, that means we don’t have to deal with the fall out.”

Remus chuckled and nosed affectionately at your cheek. “Fine by me.”

Fine by me, indeed.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x you #poly!wolfstar fluff #poly!wolfstar #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #hurt/comfort #fluff #ellecdc fics

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lovebugism · 6 months ago

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hey bug 🫶🏻 “cant stand that they're ignoring them” maybe r and Steve work together and he's been extra annoying lately. So r decides to ignore him. But he's only acting like a fool because he's in love 🥺

this fic ended up taking a life of it's own, so it's a wee bit different from your request, but i hope you like it anon!! — the one where you and steve are the personification of the "idiots in love" trope (friends to lovers, 1.5k)

Steve hears you before he sees you. A pair of whispers float down the windowless corridor of Family Video, sounding much more obvious in the otherwise silent store. He pauses mid-stride, with his fingers frozen on the buttons of his vest. His ears strain to listen. They find your familiar voice with little effort.

“—I can’t ‘just ask him out,’ Rob. It’s not that easy. I’m way too chicken shit.”

“Well, the worst he could say is no,” Robin attempts to assure you, voice deep and gritty and barely a whisper.

“Yeah, actually,” you huff, horrified. “That’s absolutely the worst thing he could say.”

“Except, he won’t because he’s not an idiot,” she argues.There’s a brief and stagnant pause, a fleeting moment of silent communication, until Robin exhales a heavy sigh. “Okay, he is a little bit of an idiot— but he’s an idiot that’s been in love with you for two years, so… He’s not stupid enough to turn you down.”

Distantly curious and very boyishly heartbroken, Steve decides to make himself known. He plasters a lopsided smile on his plush mouth, only slightly forced, to compensate for his bleeding heart. “What are you guys talkin’ about, huh?” he wonders, knowingly.

Your head snaps over your shoulder, eyes wide with horror. “Nothing,” you blurt, too quickly to be convincing.

Robin is not as nonchalant as you are. Totally unable to be casual, she says the first lie that comes to mind. “Eddie Munson,” she answers in a feeble attempt to cover your ass.

Steve’s forced laughter fills the empty store. Robin cowers at the glare you give her and musters a wavering smile.

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” Steve echoes, still chuckling. He folds his arms over the countertop across from you, biceps golden and strained against the sleeves of his polo. His smile is even prettier up close, but it hurts a little ‘cause he’s laughing at you. “You? Have a crush on Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson? There’s no way!”

You’d tell him there really was no way if he wasn’t being such an asshole about it. You thought you’d been caught for a moment — thought surely Steve would know that you were talking about him — but he’s a bigger idiot than you gave him credit for, turns out.

“It’s not that funny, Steve,” you squint.

He hums a teasing I don’t know type of sound and clicks his tongue against his teeth. “It is a little bit funny. I mean— Munson’s a total dumbass.”

You bite back a knowing smirk. “Well, I happen to like that about him,” you argue, leaning into the stupid joke. It’s easier to lie when it feels more like you’re talking about the quote-unquote dumbass in front of you.

“Well, you’d be the first,” Steve scoffs. His fake smile trembles at the edges when it gets harder to keep his guard up. “So, like, what now? Are you guys gonna be like… boyfriend-girlfriend or…?”

You meet his teasing smirk with a flat face. “You’re so annoying.”

“Have you guys kissed yet?” Steve pries, like he’s trying to break his own heart. “Or are you too scared of catchin’ his cooties?”

You roll your eyes and turn away, taking a fresh stack of tapes with you. Steve, assuming your silence is his answer, inhales a cartoonish gasp and follows behind you. “Holy shit, you have! Was it the worst? I mean, I’m assuming it was ‘cause… Eddie’s only ever had experience with the back of his hand, so… It must’ve been awful.”

His sarcasm is just investigative journalism, really. He wants to know what’s happened between you and the town freak — how far deep you’re in with Eddie and how much of a shot he’s got left with you.

“I’m not entertaining this,” you lilt and beeline for the Romantic Comedy section.

Steve follows close behind. “Why not?” he presses over your shoulder, towering over you as you slide the tapes into their designated spots. “I know Munson better than most people, you know? So maybe I can put in a good word for you or something—”

“Not necessary,” you deadpan.

He keeps on going. Digging the hole, as it were. “I could talk you up a bit. Get some top-secret info on his big fat crush on you—”

Your heart twists with every word out of his mouth. Not because he’s teasing you, but because you thought maybe, maybe, Steve might’ve liked you back. But now it feels like you just made all that up in your head. Because if he liked you like you thought he did, he wouldn’t be trying to set you up with someone else.

“—Help make it official and everything.”

“I don’t have a crush on Eddie,” you blurt before you mean to.

Steve’s rambling ceases. He feels immediate relief first, then palpable confusion right after. “…What?”

“I have a crush on you, you idiot,” you grouse, shoving the leftover tapes into his chest and storming off towards the breakroom.

Steve stands frozen in place while you leave, with a stack of VHSs held haphazardly in his arms. Wide-eyed and slightly embarrassed, he watches you disappear around the corner of the hallway. His gaze flits to Robin then, who tries to look busy on the computer, but really she’s just clicking at random spots on the screen.

“Well, I totally fucked that up, didn’t I?” he wonders dryly.

“Sorry,” the brunette grimaces. “That was kinda my fault— No one ever taught me how to be casual, so now I kinda… freak out when I have to be normal.”

Steve scoffs. That much was evident to him a long time ago.

He stalks into the break room sometime later — tail between his legs, heart in his throat. The old door squeaks open and shut again, a harsh sound in the deafening quiet. If you notice his presence, you make no effort to show it. Or look at him. Or even acknowledge his existence.

Steve knows he doesn’t deserve either.

“Hey…” he starts softly, voice wavering.

“Don’t,” you interject, much harsher than you intended, with your back still facing him. You stand at the counter and stick clearance stickers on tapes that aren’t selling well as an excuse to busy your anxious hands. “Don’t say anything, okay? Just… let me be an idiot in peace.”

Steve chuckles under his breath. “I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

You flash him a glare over your shoulder.

“I’m the dumbass in this equation, alright?” the boy assures and stands at your side. He keeps a few unsure inches between the two of you, just in case he’s totally screwed everything up. “I mean, seriously. I can’t keep my mouth shut for shit.”

You scoff a faint laugh that you try to keep hidden.

An absentminded smile tugs unknowingly at his lips. Steve watches you with an unwavering stare made of melted honey as he confesses, “When Robin said you had a thing for Eddie, I just… My heart fell to my ass, you know? And then everything just started building up like vomit, and I started spitting it all out before I even realized…”

Your face screws. “Jeez…”

“Sorry,” Steve grimaces. “Gross metaphor.”

“I just don’t want things to change between us,” you admit distantly, gaze averted as you smooth a 20% off sticker over Class of Nuke ‘Em High. “I don’t want things to be weird now.”

“Things aren’t weird,” Steve reassures with a quiet chuckle.

You flash him a hopeful glance, eyes twinkling beneath your lashes. “So we can still be friends?”

“Of course,” the boy scoffs. “Who else am I gonna run to when Robin’s annoying the shit outta me?”

You try hard to bite back the smile tugging at your lips, but Steve makes it extremely difficult. “Right,” you nod, caging your beam between your teeth.

“But… you know…” Steve starts, slow and vague, as he props an elbow over the countertop. A cheeky smirk sits crooked on his mouth. “I do have it on good authority that—”

“Please don’t bring up Eddie again,” you plead jokingly.

“No. I was— I was gonna say that the guy, you know, that you wanted to ask out tonight or whatever…” the boy trails off, going suddenly shy as he averts his gaze, scruffy cheeks flaring pink. “I was just gonna say that he definitely wouldn’t say no.”

Your chest warms. “Oh…”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “He’s had a crush on you for, like, two whole years now, so… He’s not stupid enough to turn you down.”

“Is that so?” you question with a teasing lilt, turning to face him fully. You catch his eyes falling to your mouth, for no more than a flicker of a moment, and you smirk.

“How ‘bout Benny’s Burgers?” he questions, voice low and honeyed and full of yearning. The proximity’s got his head spinning. “Tomorrow night? Six o’clock?”

“Sounds good,” you hum, trying to play it as cool as he is now.

Steve nods with a similar casualness, then swipes a golden hand through his hair when a chestnut strand falls over his forehead. “Good,” is all he says in response — lest he say more and his voice break with excitement.

You wait until the door clicks shut behind him to squeal to yourself like a teenage girl.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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kentocee · 8 months ago

Note

Do you still accept JJK requests?

Jjk men and the classic 'there was only one bed in the hotel room' :D

Would be great if it isn't during a mission, I prefer the peaceful AU's but you do you, whatever you like ^^

JJK Men React to Sharing A Bed With You

• JJK Men x Fem!reader HCs • (18+)

Characters: Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Choso

CW: one bed trope!, implied sexual content, suggestive content

Cee’s Note: imma be honest….I purposely left out Geto 🫣 idk why but I was blanking with him. If y’all wanna see this trope with him y’all gotta send me ideas 😭. But anywho, I hope y’all enjoy ✌🏽

**Minors do NOT interact; explicit content ahead**

Gojo

He a little TOO chill about it

He will play it off like it’s no big deal to share the bed.

He’s already getting comfortable before you could even process what’s going on.

“Don’t worry, I’ll behave. Unless you don’t want me to” 😉

You’re starting to think he tipped off the receptionist for this room.

He will find ways to be close or cuddle with you

“It’s a little chilly in here. Don’t want you to catch a cold” 😏

While cuddling, he will leave kisses to your shoulders and neck

His hands will lower inch by inch down your body, as if he was testing the waters to see if you’d let him

You didn’t oppose to the touching and before you knew it his fingers were under your panties playing with your clit

Nanami

Oh he wants this BAD but he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable

This man will risk back pains to sleep on the floor if you asked him too

But little did he know, you were about to do the same for him

“It’s ok, you can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor”

“Absolutely NOT!”

After two minutes of you both refusing for the other to sleep on the ground, you both decided to share the bed

Nanami keeps to his side of the bed to be respectful but that didn’t last long as you practically buried your head against his broad chest

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. Comfortable?” 😉

You were comfortable alright. Even more once you were straddling his lap. 👀

Choso

You were more flustered about it than he was

He didn’t mind sharing a bed with you at all

In fact he wanted nothing more than to be as close as possible to you

If you are at the far side of the bed, he’ll frown at the gap

“You’re so far from me. C’mere” 🥺

His face was nuzzled in your neck and his arms wrapped around you from behind

With your back and bum pressed against his front, he couldn’t help the tent forming in his pants

You could feel his member pressing against your back and you may or may not have grinded your hips against him in response 🤭

Toji

So what had happened was…he could only afford the room with one bed 💀

But to him, a bed is a bed at the end of the day

Mans doesn’t care if there was one or two beds, as long as he gets some sleep

“Well aren’t you coming?”

He’s already bundling under the sheets before you could even answer

His big ass took up all the space leaving you only the edge of the bed

“To be honest, I’d prefer you on top than next to me” 😏

Despite his comment, you laid next to him and attempted to roll his body over for more space

He rolled in the opposite direction and instead rolled on top of you, with you directly under him

“This better, princess?”

Yes this was indeed better 🤭

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akuma-coffee · 4 months ago

Note

Can I request Gojo and walking in on him showering? 🥺

order for anon! gojo x reader request menu

cw: walking in on gojo, nudity, suggestive!

mdni!

shoko’s bathroom doesn’t have a lock.

at first, this bothered you. the fear of being intruded upon would often plague your thoughts, however as time passed and you grew used to this knowledge, you didn’t dwell on it. it wasn’t exactly like you were bathing in her house; it would only be a few minutes spent within those 4 walls before you’d be back in the lounge with the others.

satoru and suguru would frequently joke about walking in on one another to newcomers (nanami's horrified expression when learning of the bathroom’s unusual feature comes to mind), though you were thankful to be past that fear.

it wasn’t until you’d gone to shoko’s apartment alone that the lock would become an issue.

it had been a long day at work. an influx in sightings coupled with the fact their were less sorcerers available meant your missions were growing steadily in difficulty. usually, a grade 1's exorcism would be a quick job for you, though today had been different. an unusual curse of intelligence, one that had been the conductor of a lengthy fight, resulted in a near grievous amount of damage to your body. for the most part you had felt confident, though by the end of it, you weren’t so sure you were going to win. you had, though.

shoko was always ready to patch you up, and just as quickly as you’d released the veil and returned to the school, your injuries were healed.

“just go back to my apartment, take a shower, and we’ll drink tonight.” she held her keys before your face, the metal chiming as one key hit another. opening your mouth slowly you begin to protest, though glancing at her stern expression, you decide to do what the woman says.

“it is friday.” you weren’t sure if the response was to convince yourself or to encourage her but you take her keys nonetheless, leaving medical to venture back to shoko's, not too far away.

your shoes are kicked off at the door, a heavy breath escaping dry lips as you close it behind you, keys strewed into the dish at the entry way. there’s a whirr in your ears and you can’t seem to remember if that’s simply the apartment, or if it’s your headache manifesting into something worse.

shoko’s room is by no means neat, just like the rest of her apartment. there’s papers in here too, stacked on a dresser, and most of her laundry is thrown just shy of the washing basket. thankfully you’re able to find some of the pyjamas she’d mentioned, and a (definitely used) towel. the next stop is the bathroom, handle placed in your palm and pulled down, door pushed open-

in the shower is a figure, pale and tall. you’re faced not with their head, but instead their groin. there’s water on his skin, droplets dripping down wet flesh.

“gonna take a photo?” satoru’s voice rakes through your body, and you jump at the sudden noise. at last, your eyes fly upward to meet his blue ones, your mouth ajar as your fingers clutch at the musty towel in your hand.

you stand for a few more moments to fester in your shock, and much like a deer in headlights, you're faced with the decision to either run or face your own death. at present, your body decides not to run, but to instead crash and burn before the cockiest person known to man. his grin is wide as he stares down at you, a playful glint in his blue eyes.

you’re finally released from your mental prison, heading straight to shoko’s room to slam the door behind you, sitting in front of the wood. with your back against the door you close your eyes, attempting to reach some sort of medatative state with your quick breaths, but one does not come.

instead, you hear footsteps coming toward you, and the door handle above your head rattles.

“go away.” your voice is quiet but you know he hears you, the squeak of metal and clunk of the latch signalling that he had let go. after a few painfully long minutes you decide satoru's left by now - you’re almost sure you hear the quiet droning of the tv, but as you swing the door open you realise how wrong you were.

satoru is not in the lounge but instead stood waiting for you, back to the wall, arms crossed over chest. thankfully, he is now dressed, a black longsleeve and grey sweats with hair still wet and messy.

“done with your tantrum?” he’s already teasing you seconds after you’re faced with him, your face burning hot in embarrassment.

“i was just in shock.” your voice is low.

“ah, long enough to get a good look?” there’s a sneer to his tone that you don’t appreciate.

“it was an accident - i don’t know what you want me to say. sorry?” you huff, hurrying past him as there's a clatter at the front door, and it opens to reveal shoko.

“you didn’t say satoru was gonna be here.” she doesn’t have a chance to take her shoes off before you're greeting her with your annoyance. she smells like cigarettes, and the bags under her eyes hang low. they’re purple, and etched into her skin as every other imperfection, mole, and freckle.

“satoru’s here?” she rolls her eyes. “well, that’s news to me.”

“she’s just mad because she walked in on me showering-“

“shut up satoru-“

“and stared at my naked body with awe.” the back of his hand flies to the top of his head for dramatic effect, and shoko’s brow raises. she doesn’t speak for a few seconds, glancing between your sheepish frown and his grin before finally sighing, the pack of cigarettes you hadn’t noticed until now being opened, and one placed between her lips.

“right.” she walks past the pair of you to the lounge, on route to her usual perch over the balcony for yet another smoke.

you whip round in annoyance, scowl ever present over your face as you look to satoru. even with him fully dressed and radiating confidence in an annoyingly childish manner, you still feel your stomach twist, flashbacks echoing over your eyes.

“stop with that, it’s embarrassing okay?” your final hope is honesty, a last ditch effort to save yourself from the white mop of hair. he's at the very least a sadist, but you hope that deep down he might care for your feelings, and perhaps will refrain from clout chasing if your emotional state were to be at risk.

“stop with what?” satoru’s teasing makes you doubt your initial thought process.

“please.” you look at him with your heart on your sleeve now, practically on your hands and knees. “don’t tell anyone else.”

satoru’s face softens, only for a second but you swear you see it; his brow gently raising and the curve of his lips falling to no longer crease at the edges, but all hope is immediately lost as the smile returns only as quickly as it had dampened.

“what if we break even?”

“satoru…”

“you saw me, i’ll see you, then you won’t have a one up on me.” it feels like he's wearing a snarl as his teeth peak through his lips, much like a beast hunting it’s prey. it certainly feels like that, your concerned gaze captured in his jaw.

“you’re the one with the step up, not me.” you sigh, but for some reason your heart is racing. he’s relentless, you know that, and the curious part of you wants to entertain his idea.

“fine.” without second thought, you grab ahold of his wrist, tugging at the lanky limb to bring him toward the bathroom, pulling him into the doorway and slamming it behind him before you’d had a chance to release the breath caught in your chest.

you pulled the loose t-shirt over your head (one of shoko’s old band tees) and threw it to the floor. the trousers were next, drawstrings tugged apart and elastic waistband dropped to ankle.

by the time you had stripped off, satoru’s expression had dropped, face displaying a genuine state of surprise that you swear you’ve never seen before now.

the trousers are tugged up, t-shirt pulled back over your head, and satoru is still stood in the same position, mouth still ajar. you momentarily pause to say something before escaping, only when your eyes were lost in his, nothing comes to mind. instead, you choose to flee the awkward air and relieve the tension set heavy in your chest, slipping through the exit and running straight to find shoko. she is only just coming through the balcony door.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” shoko speaks and you’re a little startled, though as you start to reply in confusion, you feel an arm drape over your shoulder, pulling you toward his torso.

“nah, we were just chatting.” you breathe deeply beside him, trying to maintain your poise. there’s a little bit of nausea rising through you as the weight of your actions set in.

shoko doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t push either, simply throwing herself on the couch, still dressed in the turtleneck and chinos she’d been sporting beneath her coat.

“well, you can keep one another company while i go to the store. we’re out of beer, who would’ve guessed.” she points her finger between yourself and satoru, who is now sitting down beside the brunette.

“maybe you need to stop inviting us over to drown our sorrows.” you joke lightly and shoko rolls her eyes.

“what do you expect if you ask me for help?” she places both hands on each leg, standing. “don’t kill each other,” she’s by the lounge door, putting her jacket over her shoulders and pulling her hair from the back of it. “or do, i don’t care.”

this was longer than i had initially planned but oh well! thank you anon, please send more requests! this was so much fun.

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru thirst #satoru gojo thirst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader thirst #gojo x reader drabble #gojo x reader request #jjk requests #jjk gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo x reader #jjk fanfiction

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lay-z · 5 months ago

Text

I'm sad for some reason I think I'm getting close to getting my period, so... I'm yearning for a fictional man and I'm hurting, because I can't have him 🥺❤️‍🩹 Also, I'd like to explore some slow burn type of romance and keep Simon's past traumas in mind! Pairing: civvie!F!Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley Warnings/Info: Reader is demisexual; cussing; tw: mental issues; insecurities; slow burn; awkwardness; humor Word count: 3.5k The one where two broken people connect.

You've already decided that you've given up on finding, not love, but companionship.

You've given up on love a long time ago, long before you'd reached your late 20s.

An old, creative and gentle soul, weighted down and scarred by childhood bullying, constant criticism by your family, societies bloody beauty standards and things you suffer from which you didn't even know how to describe let alone name in your youth.

Demisexuality? Body dysmorphia? Eating disorders? Anxiety? Insecurities, so deeply rooted, that they border on self-hatred?

And no, you never went to therapy – no. Gods, no, because if you go to therapy, you're mental, right? And how can your poor mother tell the rest of the family that you're mentally unstable? That something is wrong with her little, darling daughter? Hm?

So, no therapy, because your hyper-independence got your back. You're used to that, learned it in your younger years; always there for others, but no one ever stepped up for you, except yourself. Yet you're cursed to be an empath, so you never stopped caring for others, even if it killed you inside.

Giving. Giving. Giving. Tearing yourself apart to please and give up the love that brimmed in your kind heart. Never receiving anything good and soft, like some cheap whore, until there was little left of love to give.

Now you've turned cynical, cold, and lonely – or that's what you keep telling yourself to keep the façade up. Hiding behind humour and feigned nonchalance, because you're an entertainer. Always have been. You would've been an amazing actress, but when you were younger, your mother told you that you could never be the love interest, so why bother go to acting school and actually do something you enjoy?

You rarely wallow in self-pity anymore; only occasionally, right before you get your period and your hormones make you feel sad and depressed, make you break and hate yourself. Quiet and in secrecy, in the safety of your dark bedroom, or in front of the bathroom mirror – just to play out a sad scene in your delusional mind. Probably with a fictional man, someone who'd never hurt you – in your alternate universe.

Accept. Adapt. Overcome. Repeat.

It isn't ideal, but you've found coping mechanisms that work for you, albeit some unhealthy ones and you've survived so far. Emphasis on survived, not lived.

You're so deep in your thoughts, on the brink of dissociation, that you don't even realize you've been staring – again.

Your eyes flutter briefly, focusing back on the here and now until you realize what or, rather, who you have been staring at like some creep.

Fuck.

It's that man with the skull mask, not a ski mask, but a balaclava – you've googled it the first time you'd seen him around the café. You'd even researched if face coverings like that are illegal in the UK – turns out they're not, unless you refuse to take it off when a police officer orders you to.

He's staring right back at you; dark brown eyes unblinking, skin around the eye holes covered up by some black smudge – combat or war paint, probably. Sitting at the table right across from you by the cafés large windows; incredibly out of place for such a soft and quaint establishment. Nursing a tea, looking menacing and intimidating with his massive physique and black clothing, yet his eyes hold something more than stoicism in them. You know, because you see it yourself when you look into any mirror.

Bottled up emotions, a myriad of them, simmering just below the surface like a dormant volcano, ready to erupt someday.

You narrow your eyes then, force yourself not to tilt your head to the side like a curious puppy would do, because you don't want him to know that you're actually perceiving him this time – and not merely daydreaming and brooding like you usually do. Cursing internally, when you eventually lose this staring competition that you've completely just made up in your mind, because his eyes are too intense and he's obviously immune to social awkwardness, you reach for your lukewarm matcha latte, taking a small sip as you turn your head away to stare out of the large shop windows, pretending to watch passers-by.

You force yourself to focus on the shitty UK weather outside, resting your chin on the back of your hand, elbow propped up on the cheap table. Rain and wind and colourful leaves grazing the wet pavement as the seasons start changing and autumn begins creeping in. You like autumn, prefer it over summer every year – and your mind begins to drift again, distracted by random strangers outside, grey clouds in the sky and fat raindrops pitter-pattering against the windows.

Meanwhile, his eyes never waver from you, and Simon catches himself wondering, what you might be thinking about now.

Time passes, and you try to keep your routine up – going out for a coffee once or twice every week, so you won't die of loneliness or isolation. At least, the café is nice, the baristas as well, it's not far from your flat and it's usually not that crowded nor busy.

Or so it was during summer.

Now, all people want to do is drink their coffees and teas inside, apparently, since the temperatures have dropped, along with the leaves.

After ordering your matcha latte, you turn around to see that your favourite spot by the window has been occupied in the past six minutes of standing by the counter. If only the lady in front of you had ordered her bloody tea and biscuits a smidge faster, but nah, you're not that lucky.

Groaning internally, you move to the table across from your fave, pulling one of the two plastic chairs out with more force than necessary because you're petty and annoyed. It's loud – not too loud, actually, but louder than it usually is – and you curse yourself for going out. You should've just stayed in this afternoon, curled up on your couch, playing some Baldur's Gate or so.

Some minutes pass after receiving your hot beverage and you've managed to drown out the noises and successfully ignore the sudden hubbub around the café.

That is until you notice a looming presence next to you; aura thick like molasses and prominent like the smell of gasoline, you don't know if you like it or not. It does catch your attention, though, and you turn your head to the left, eye-level with his denim-clad crotch, perhaps a little too close for the acceptable social standards.

Furrowing your brows in both confusion and offense, you have to tilt your head back and lean back in your chair to meet his eyes. How can those eyes be soft and aloof at the same time?

"Uh, hi?" You say then, brows still furrowed; not a greeting but an out for him to excuse himself for getting too close and fuck off again.

"Yer in me seat." He counters bluntly, voice incredibly rough and accented and muffled by the fabric of his mask as he gestures at the table with his gloved hand and holding a small coaster with a steaming cup of tea on top of it in the other one delicately. It looks comical and stupid, yet somehow endearing.

You're dumbfounded for a moment, blinking up at him in disbelief before finding your wit again, nodding your chin at the two chatting women sitting at your favourite table.

"And they're in mine," you say matter of factly, "If we go by that logic." You add dryly, picking up your latte, because the conversation is surely over.

He stays by your side, unmoving like a marble statue, dark eyes flickering somewhat nervously between you and the empty chair across from yours. Simon doesn't know how to properly interact with a civilian anymore; let alone a female civvie, and he ponders for a moment if he should just leave again, have a cuppa at his own flat.

But Simon's therapist had advised him, pleaded with him, to at least try and make a friendly connection with someone outside of his military comfort zone and well, here you are. At least your face is familiar already and you look harmless...safe.

"May I...sit with ye, lass?" He almost grits through his teeth, doing his best to ignore the way his heart beats hard against his ribcage as he waits for your rejection.

You pick up on the vulnerability in his voice, his demeanour, as if asking costs him some courage; truth be told, it would cost you some, too. Perhaps it's the fact that you've become silent acquaintances over the past few weeks; meeting up at this place without even meaning to. Each of you alone, always.

You stop in your movements, lifting the rim of your mug just to your lips before lowering it again, holding his gaze without taking a sip.

Sit with me? You muse to yourself, surveying him up close briefly and for the first time, at least consciously. He shifts on his feet some, heavy black boots – always boots, always layers of dark clothing, always the skull balaclava, no matter the temperature.

However, despite his looks, despite his authoritative and all-consuming aura and your better judgement, you nod once, cursing your intuition and empathy, nudging the empty chair away from the table from beneath it with your foot – a wordless permission, or perhaps an invitation?

And Simon exhales a long breath through his nose, jaw unclenching slightly as he gives a curt nod, sets his tea on the table and takes a seat on the offered chair. Easy.

And that is that.

The next time you're at the café, you breathe a sigh of relief to find it relatively empty for the time, except for some elderly customers and students working in silence on their laptops.

You're delighted to find your favourite table empty again and you order your usual matcha latte with coconut milk before eagerly sinking into the chair at 'your' table with a contented sigh and a good view on the people and life outside the cosy café.

Then your peace is once again disturbed by the soft clink of a tea cup being placed on the table, followed by the empty chair across from you scraping over the old hardwood floor, before he slips into the seat with a quiet huff.

"Your table is free," you tell him immediately, leaning to the side to look past his massive frame at the unoccupied table behind him.

"Aye, I know," he responds gruffly, folding his forearms on the table while he looks outside the window, "Figured we can ah safe space by sitting together." He suggests with a nonchalant shrug, though internally, Simon's stomach is clenching with nerves and anxiety. He despises feeling awkward and being in situations he cannot control.

Yes, it does feel incredibly awkward, but deep down you're too nice to tell him to fuck off, because he hasn't given you a reason to do so. When you were forced to share a table last time, you sat in somewhat comfortable silence, though you'd definitely finished your drink faster than usual back then before uttering a polite goodbye and slipping away.

"I guess so," you mutter in return because he's already sat down anyway.

Silence ensues, but you can't ignore the sudden tension of unasked questions and the pressure of social interactions. Then, it's too quiet in the establishment, and you both suddenly and silently hate it.

"Ye enjoy observin' people?"

His question catches you off guard because he sounds genuinely interested in you answer, and it's unnerving.

"Yeah, you could say that," you answer curtly, crossing your legs at your ankles under the table and leaning back into the cheap chair to feign nonchalance, even though you're currently anything but, "I find it relaxing."

"That's...strange," Simon retorts, quirking an eyebrow behind the safety of his balaclava, because he does that, too, and he never thought you'd blatantly admit that. Is people watching a thing among civvies? Then you shoot him an offended look and he can't help but cringe internally.

"Didn't mean it like that, lass." He assures you in a mumble, eyes flickering down to his steaming cup of Earl Grey tea.

Your first instinct is to mock him for his silly mask, ask him if he's a thug or cosplaying as one or some hooligan, but you bite your tongue, because you know better, and you feel like he could make you regret your sass. Especially if one of those assumptions proofs true.

"And what do you always do around here, hm? Never see you read a book or newspaper, let alone play with your phone," you ask instead, not even hiding the accusatory undertone as you turn your upper body towards the window. You're involuntarily dismissive, because it's been a while since you talked to a stranger like that, let alone a man.

"Same as ye, lass," he grumbles, "Thinkin', observin'...enjoyin' the peace." As if internal peace could ever be achieved in his case.

There's another moment of awkward silence and your mind is racing, riddled with anxiety, though unbeknownst to you, so is his. Simon is so out of his element and yet he forces himself to stay, unless you blatantly tell him to fuck off – which, deep down, he hopes you will.

"You're not some creep are you? 'Cause I swear, I'll clock you if you try anything or follow me home after this," you tell him with an edge to your voice, like you mean it. You're not opposed or afraid of violence. You grew up with older brothers and cousins.

Simon snorts at your threat, genuinely. He's taken off guard by your fierceness and he's absolutely sure you're serious about this, and he hates to know that he's capable of taking you down if he wanted to, even if you'd fight tooth and nail. It makes him feel guilty, makes his gut twist and churn because of those dark thoughts coming up in his brain like some black pest, even though he'd never ever do anything to hurt you.

"'m not," he assures you, eyes flickering over to study your face, your expression. You look tense and standoffish, and he can't help but admire that; to know that you're not afraid, that you can take care of yourself if push comes to shove.

"Name's Simon." He offers it like an oblation, a small yet important piece of himself, putting his given name and some trust into the hands of a stranger, and asking nothing in return.

You're once again dumbfounded and yet your mistrust and suspicious nature get triggered; squinting your eyes as him, your heart and brain are in utter turmoil.

"Didn't ask," you eventually retort coolly, like a proper arsehole, even though, deep down, it hurts yourself, hurts you to be rude like that, especially as you see something flicker in his dark eyes. Surprise? Hurt? Anger? You can't tell, but he leans back in his seat, gives a curt nod, accepting your snappish response just like that, and you think he'll leave, but he stays seated.

"I'm...sorry," you utter suddenly, fidgeting with the hem of your grey oversized hoodie, "That was...unnecessarily rude." You admit with a deep sigh. But was it, though? He's a stranger, some bloke with a mask, who just randomly decided to sit with you and introduce himself–

"It's fine, lass," he says, pulling you from your spiralling thoughts with his deep gravelly voice, "A reasonable reaction, really."

It is, Simon thinks. He might have questioned you about your thoughts on self-preservation and your survival instinct, if you wouldn't have reacted the way you just did.

He contemplates lifting his mask to finally take as sip of his tea, but like always, it costs him every ounce of courage to do so while you're looking at him so shamelessly with your alert eyes and that slight frown on your face, and Simon rubs his gloved palms over his thighs below the table to soothe himself as you keep scrutinizing him.

But then you utter your name in return, albeit hesitantly, and his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze, noticing the hint of curiosity in your eyes.

You don't see him, Simon, for several weeks after that and after some contemplation, you decide that he must've found a new café to hang out at or perhaps he got arrested eventually. You don't care either way.

But then, why do your eyes keep flickering around the shop whenever you drink your matcha latte? Why do you stare at the empty chair at his 'favourite table'? Why do you keep wondering what happened to him?

You don't want to accept it, don't want to acknowledge it, but deep down, you actually enjoyed having a proper chat with him the last time you saw him. When he so randomly decide to sit with you and introduce himself. You swiftly fix the slight purse of your lips as your mind keeps pondering about this stranger and you force yourself to enjoy your hot beverage until you can get back home and feel accomplished for actually having spent time outside your comfort zones, namely your flat and workspace.

But it's lonely. Always lonely.

In those few moments you'd shared with Simon, despite the awkwardness and that uncomfortable feeling of being perceived by someone, you'd realized that something has been missing in your life. Perhaps you should give your parents and siblings a call back; perhaps you should answer all those ignored messages in your phone; messages that have become less and less, because the people closest to you will eventually stop reaching out. You know that spiel already, yet you're having so much trouble actually pulling yourself out of this hole of self-isolation, a hole that's become suffocating, draining the colour from your life while you keep telling yourself that you're fine, that you want it this way.

"Lass?"

His voice cuts through your overthinking mind like a hot knife through butter and your eyes immediately find his gaze, that unwavering, piercing stare of his.

"Simon," you say in return, more like a greeting if it wouldn't be for the shocked pitch lacing your voice. You can faintly see his tired eyes crinkle slightly as he rests one gloved hand on the backrest of the empty chair across from you and you wonder if he's smiling behind his mask.

"Remember me name, aye?" He asks gruffly, almost playfully, the tiniest smirk tugging at the corner of his chapped lips beneath his mask as he pulls out the chair, waiting for your permission.

"Tsk. Obviously," you answer with a scoff and an eye roll before giving him a short nod. "No tea?" You remark as he sits down without it, raising an eyebrow as you sip on your own drink.

"Err, no. Not stayin' for one," he answers, shaking his head, "Was jus' in the area," he lies, "Figured I could drop by and say 'ello." He adds with a shrug, feeling utterly stupid now, because Simon definitely was not in the area.

He came home from a deployment last night and wanted to check on you for some reason, see if you're still coming here, see if you’re doing alright – but of course, you are.

"Mhm," you hum affirmingly, though more suspicious than ever as you survey him. You want to spit out Why?, the question burning on the tip of your tongue, but you’re somehow too distracted by his overall appearance.

The paint around his eyes has faded, as if rubbed and smudged too many times. He smells an awful lot of tobacco and something else you can't quite pinpoint. Even in his usual attire of some type of black jacket or hoodie, jeans, boots and his balaclava, he looks terribly dishevelled and messy.

"Where have you been?" You find yourself asking before you can stop your mouth from moving. "If you don't mind me asking." You add casually, for good measure.

“Deployed.” Simon answers offhandedly, sounding colder than he intended to, and you do pick up on the shift in attitude; he doesn’t want to elaborate.

“Okay,” you retort with a nod, though your curiosity is sparked, and you click your tongue, pondering, before you confuse him as you let out a little snort.

Of course, he's a fucking soldier, you muse to yourself, should've figured that out myself.

You can practically see him raise his eyebrows in confusion, noticing how the fabric of his bloody mask shifts slightly.

“Ye laughin’ at me for servin’ me country?” He asks and desperately hopes that you pick up on the teasing tone in his voice, though it’s still hoarse from barking orders at his men for days on end.

“No,” you answer uncharacteristically soft, flashing him a rare genuine and sheepish smile, “I always wanted to join the military myself.”

Simon doesn’t know if it’s the smile you shoot him, catching him off guard, because he’s never seen that expression on your face before, let alone that sudden twinkle in your eyes as you admit that you’ve thought about enlisting in your past, but he suddenly feels even more intrigued by you; this secluded, lovely civilian in front of him, and he finds himself asking then,

“Why didn’t ye enlist?”

Perhaps he should get that tea after all.

Part 2 ?

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #task force 141 #simon riley x you #pic is mine #slow burn romance

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redheadspark · 1 year ago

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can I get Druig with "how can you be this cheery already? we haven't even had breakfast." and "you won't stop this until i say 'yes', will you?" 🥺

A/N - YAS FOR THIS! I would love to write this, thanks for the request, dear friend!

Ray

Summary - Who knew the mind-controlling Eternal was a ball of sunshine in the morning

Warnings - just some fluff :)

Humming was the first thing you heard when you were slowly waking up, much to your dismay.

Grumbling, you threw the thin sheet over your head to try and block out some of the sun that was about to pour into your little shack. The softer sounds of the trees high above rustling in the morning wind was the next thing you heard, a shiver going through your body as the humming was continuing. You huffed, knowing now that there was no way you were going to be sleeping again as the bed was now shifting. A pair of gentle yet calloused hands touched the top of your head and massaging your scalp as you wiggled under the sheet.

“Mornin’, my love,”

His deep tremor of a voice was enough to have you open your eyes, seeing through the thing sheet a silhouette of a body.

“How are you already awake this early?” You said in a mumble under the sheets as the fingers in your hair never stopped moving slowly, “It’s the weekend. We don’t have chores today.”

“Still a good day to wake early and enjoy,” he replied as you huffed, pushing the sheets down and scowling up at your husband of 400 years. Druig, perched over you on the bed with his tossed hair shining in the sun and his piercing blue eyes looking like sapphires orbs looking down at you. He was sporting a thin shirt and running pants, a thin sheet of sweat already evident on his face as he grinned widely at you.

“You went running?” You asked as a yawn as he nodded.

“Earlier this morning, since I know you’d rather sleep all day than enjoy the first rays of the morning,” He teased, you rolling your eyes.

“How can you be this cheery already? We haven’t even had breakfast yet,” You stated as he shrugged.

“It’s a nice day, and I find it a blessin’.” He replied, then leaning down a bit to graze his nose with yours with affection. You could breathe in the soil that was under his nails from working out in your little vegetable garden the night before, the sweat he got from his rain, and something that was simply Druig, “The blessin’ of our village, the blessin’ of breathing in the fresh air of the jungle, and the greatest blessin’ of bein’ married to ya,”

500 years together in the Amazon was nothing short of heavenly for you and Druig. Getting there was such a harsh and difficult decision, simply because you two left your Eternals family behind. Druig went through so much turmoil and pain that night, knowing he was not able to help stop the genocide that was unfolding in front of all of you. As his wife, you stood by him and never swayed in that choice when he decided to go off on his own and branch out away from all you two knew. You too were heartbroken, not knowing when you were going to see the others again. It’s been 500 years of raising a village and being away from the rest of the world that seemed to evolve and grow.

Ajak told you one last thing before you followed behind Druig. You looked up to her as a mother, seeing the sense of comfort in her eyes as she gave you one last time.

“Take care of him and his heart,”

So you did.

Being married to the mind controller was nothing short of adventurous. You two knew each other far too well, from the mannerisms to routine. He loved sweets and you loved spice. You preferred simple affection in public whereas Druig saved his affection for the bedroom. You loved to sleep in and take your time in the morning, whereas Druig loved to rise early with chores on his mind and take care of the village before the sun would even rise.

It was a role reversal, you being the grumpy ball of sleep and Druig being the early-rising ray of sunshine.

“Druig…it’s too early,” You said as he was peppering you with kisses and laughing as he was. It was one of the tactics that he would use to get you out of bed.

“Will you join me for breakfast?” He asked against your cheek. You said nothing, attempting to ignore him as he then went for the next tactic on his list. His fingers moved to go to your sides, tickling you and making you shriek in laughter as you writhed and wiggled in bed. Druig never stopped, keeping his fingers along your skin as you were laughing and crying at the same time. Druig never thought of anything more beautiful than you laughing on the bed, hair flying everywhere along your face and skin, the sun shining down on your dark hair to have it almost shimmer. To him, you were everything and more that he would ever want and cherish in this life.

“You won’t stop this until I say ‘yes’, will you?” You asked in a breath as he shook his head. Finally, knowing that this was a battle you weren’t going to win, relent and sighed, “Fine. Fine, I said! Let me get dressed first!”

“Good!” He replied, his fingers retreating as you finally caught your breath again and he leaned back to have you sit up in the bed, “Although next time we can eat breakfast in bed since you covet this bed more than me,”

“..you’re not wrong,” You teased, then being silenced with Druig’s lips on yours. You could take his sunshine attitude every day if you could, knowing that it would lift you up and push away the grumpiness that was deep inside of you. No matter how much you hated mornings, you would take Druig waking you up with kisses and sunshine every day if you could. His affection was shown in his smile, in his words, and in all he did around him and for you.

You’d happily take 500 more years of Druig’s happiness over anything on this planet.

The End

Grumpy Vs. Sunshine Prompt Session

#druig x reader #druig x female reader #druig x y/n #druig x eternal!reader #druig fanfiction #druig fluff #eternals #fanfiction #writing #barry keoghan #druig #marvel #the eternals #marvel cinematic universe fandom #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #mcu phase 4 #mcu fanfiction #mcu

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stillnotyourmusebitch · 10 months ago

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AAAGH I loved your sinner!Adam fic about him and Reader watching TV together 🥺

I heard you take sinner!Adam requests so is it okay to have a sort-of part 2? Maybe watching movies became a regular thing between them and one time they end up kissing during one? If you find it repetitive and don't want to it's totally okay, I understand! I hope you have a nice day and keep up with the good work 🥹

Oh I loved writing this. The fic below is a sequel to this ficlet

I do hope that you liked it. I'm always worried I've made him too ooc but Sinner!Adam is fanon based atm and if he is wanting redemption he would change his ways.

So Urm yeah enjoy. . . .

What we watching?? Sinner!Adam x GN!reader

Fluffy af

That night watching trashy romcoms with Adam could have just been a one off thing and you would’ve been fine with it. But when he approached you in the communal kitchens the next morning with a proposition to make ‘Thursday film night’ a regular thing between the two of you. You had asked him why. He said that hanging out with you yesterday was one of the most fun things he had done in a long time. You smiled fondly at him before agreeing.

As Thursday night rolled around again. You were looking forward to sharing some more of your favourite films with Adam. He’d said he would be there by 6ish. You glance at the time on your phone. It was only 6.05pm. He’s probably just running late after the one on one session with Charlie.

An easy way to keep your mind busy was dragging out all your blankets and making a sort of nest type thing on the floor by the couch. You used to do this with your family when you were alive. It just made the movie marathons all that more special. After seeing how far Adam had come since arriving at the hotel. You had really wanted to show him how much he meant to you.

‘Wait, as a friend.’ You stopped mid cushion grab. You liked him as only a friend right? Right?

Your door burst open and slammed shut very quickly Adam was only 45 minutes late, you looked up seeing him breathing hard, carting an armload of snacks, drinks and a few bowls of things.

“There you . . .” he shushes you looking frantically at the closed door. “What did you do?” You whisper as you crawl onto the couch.

A far off loud shouting could be heard in the silence. He waited a minute more before letting out a breath.

“It wasn’t my fault honest.” He looked extremely guilty. You quirked a brow wanting an explanation. “I was trying to make my super awesome dip for our movie night but I maaaaaay have made a really big mess but I didn’t mean to, I just tripped over that cleaner chick who was chasing more of them roaches. This hotel must have an infestation or she is breeding them just to kill. Oh wait, I’m getting off point, the thing is I might have made too much of the dip than I intended and I kinda launched half of it onto another patron. But it wasn’t my fault. This time at least.” He frantically spoke as he juggled the drinks and snacks about in his arms before depositing them carefully on the coffee table. Standing back up he turned and looked down at what you were making. “What’s that?” He points to the accumulated amount of cushions, blankets and other soft furnishings piled on the floor.

“Well, the thing is.” You hopped off the couch into the nest trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal. How were you supposed to explain the reason behind it without him laughing at you? “You know what it’s stupid let me just . . .” You felt shame rush to your cheeks as you tried to dismantle the obviously stupid idea.

“Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Looks comfy as fuck. Budge up would ya.” You hopped out as he set himself down in the dead center of the nest, keeping his legs open slightly to give you a place to sit. Last week he really liked having you snuggled up close to him, why did you think this week would be any different.

You chose the first movie and plopped yourself down in the space he left for you, his arms wrapping around your middle pulling you flush against his chest.

“So what we watching?”

-----

“I have a question do all of these movie have the same premise?” Adam asked after about 15 minutes into the third film.

“Whatdya mean?” You say through a mouthful of chips.

“Like . . hang on pause the film a sec.” He fumbles for the remote to stop the movie. You shuffle a bit to see him better. “Like don’t get me wrong they’re good films, a bit cliché but surely the lead woman knows that the ‘Oh I’m a famous something or other I have no time for a man’” his fake high pitched womanly voice had you laughing. “Hey shush let me finish my thought.”

“But you make such a good woman.” You poke at his chest playfully.

“Ah ha ha ha.” He grabs your hand in his. “But seriously shush. My point is are there any original ideas in these films?”

“You saying I got trash taste in cinema?” You try pulling your hand away from his grasp. Adam doesn’t let go but pulls you closer to him.

“What I’m saying is watching all these oblivious people who clearly have strong feelings for the other person, got me thinking.” He looks down at your hand in his. “Ya know what never mind let’s keep watching the movie.” He lets go of your hand and grabs for the remote, setting the film going again.

The whiplash from that conversation was enough to make your head spin. You stayed a second more simply looking into the face of a man who had something he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to do so. As you turned back in his arms to watch the movie, you could hear a small sigh of relief.

You tried to go back to watching the movie but you couldn’t. Adam only held you loosely now, choosing to focus more on grabbing snacks and sipping his soda. Your mind went into overdrive.

‘What did you do wrong?’

‘Was he mad at you?’

‘Did he . . . wait did he like you?’

You almost choked on a piece of popcorn at the realisation. Adam liked you.

Daring to flick your eyes to look at him. He was focused on the film but the soft look of longing he bore was almost too much.

“Adam?” Your voice was gentle so as not to spook him.

“Mmmyeah?” He was still watching the screen.

You grabbed the remote and paused the TV again.

“Hey, it was getting to a good part.” He looked down at you annoyed. “What. Is there something on my face?” He touches his face trying to feel for any irregularity. “Hey, say something you’re freaking me. mmmf” You pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him. He froze against your lips.

‘Shit was I wrong?’

You move to pull away. But his hands cup your face pulling you back into a tender kiss that makes you melt into his touch. The kiss lasted no longer than 5 seconds but you didn’t care you felt like your entire body was floating.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He spoke softly as he broke the kiss. “Can I kiss you again?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes.” Your words were barely a whisper but it was all he needed to pull you back against him, he kissed you in such a tender way that made your heart flutter in your chest. You didn’t realise he was capable of such gentility but you craved more of it. Your hands carded into his hair, being careful of his horns, as one of his hands went to cradle the back of your head, effectively tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. His other hand moved to your lower back, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. The kiss had an undertone of heat laced in the movements of your joined lips.

You broke the kiss panting slightly, you noted his pupils were dilated slightly as you were sure yours mirrored back.

You had to slow this down now before you regretted anything.

“Adam.” Your voice low in warning. “As much as I enjoy kissing you. Can we take whatever this is a little slower?”

You expected him to whine or pout about being told no. but he just smiles goofily at you. Swiping a thumb over your lower lip.

“Sure thing.” He kisses your forehead before helping you settle back against him the way your were before. He picked up the remote “Ready to continue?”

You weaved your fingers with his other hand and nodded “Ready.”

--------

I hope this is what you wanted.

My ask box is still open if anyone else got requests

#jamie writes #callmerainman #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam #gender neutral reader #sinner!adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #prompt filled #my fic

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sincerelyrki · 9 months ago

Text

MINI SKIRT

↳ eighteen : my little werewolf🥺

wc : 882

warnings : profanity. mentions of killing people.

previous | masterlist | next

You tried not to let Jake’s constant glances at the bushes affect you, trying your best to ignore it and keep the conversations going.

But the way he was acting was becoming almost too frantic, his entire demeanour changing the longer he looked.

You had a rough idea about what he was watching for, being mindful of his career and trying not to judge him too harshly.

It was pretty easy to tell that he hadn’t been out much, his brazen outbursts speaking for themselves. But you didn’t think it was to the point where he was watching his back everything second.

Every small noise made him flinch, his body almost shrinking into himself as he attempted to face away from the noise.

Even though it was different to what you were used to, you couldn’t help but find his actions adoring.

The first time Jake flinched you had proposed to go somewhere else, to another store more remote than the one you were at now. Jake refused, shaking his head profusely as he gave a firm pout. “No, I want to bring you to my favourite Prada.” The sentence became the one he would repeat every time you checked on him.

But as Jake flinched as another one of the bushes twinged you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up. “Are you sure you’re okay? I promise you’re more important than riding in a pea car”

You were only half joking, the thought of riding in the pea car again caused goosebumps to swell along the entirety of your forearms.

Jake didn’t answer right away, opting to just reach out and gently grab a hold of your thumb. You mindless followed him, completely distracted by the way his fingers wrapped around your singular finger. Your heart raced at the action, a blush gracing your cheeks as you shamelessly smiled at yourself.

Jake wasn’t completely aware of his actions, his attention far too attached to maneuvering around the large fountain and getting into the Prada store located at the end of the outlet.

The second you entered the store Jake gently pulled you against his side, blocking your body from being seen outside.

Jake leaned down to your ear, his lips barely grazing your skin as one of his hands brushed the hair off your shoulder. “I saw Niki” Your body froze at his words, jaw-dropping in shock before you tried peeking around his shoulder.

Jake allowed you to look over him, his head pulling back far enough to watch your expression. “He’s been following us the entire time”

He didn’t wait for you to respond before he completed his statement- “he’s been trying to hide in the bushes” A small giggle left your lips and the thought of a six-foot-whatever man trying to crouch behind bushes.

Jake smiled at your reaction, his anger towards the boy melting and reforming itself into a wave of gratefulness. Jake would force the man to follow them a million times, to hide in the bush however amount of times he could, just so he could see you laugh again.

“He’s not alone, I see Heeseung too” Jake closed his eyes and tilted his head back, everything finally made sense. Riki tended to bring trouble where he went, that so-called “trouble” always came in the form of either Jake himself, or Heeseung.

“Of course he is” Jake hissed under his breath, the image of the two of them huddling together under bushes half their sizes would’ve been humourous in any other situation.

Any situation that didn’t include you and him, alone. His eyes snapped open as a small exclamation left your lips, your smaller hands coming up to wrap around his jacket sleeves. “Jake, they’re all here!”

He looked over his shoulder, jaw-dropping at the sight of the rest of his members emerging together and speed-walking towards him. “Wait, Riki’s jeans are so cute” You let go of Jake as you rounded him, walking away and towards the door.

Jake could do nothing but glare at the six boys as they all waved at you, amazed smiles on their lips as they looked you up and down.

Jake wasn’t sure when he was going to formally introduce you to his members, the need to keep you to himself for a bit longer hovering over his head.

It’s barely been a week since he’d met you, but everyone couldn’t stop themselves from throwing question after question at him. They all expected Jake to know every single thing about you, and surprisingly, he was able to answer more than half of their instantaneous questions.

“Hey! I’m Heeseung, what’s your name?” Heeseung threw you a charming smile, his hand coming out between the two of you for a handshake.

Well, it seemed that Jake could answer every question except for that one. Jake knew everything from your favourite colour to your least favourite childhood movie, but he didn't know the simplest thing. Jake Sim didn’t know your name.

“I’m Yn, it’s nice to meet you Heeseung.” Jake practically saw his world ignite around him, flames of envy climbing up from the ground beneath him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet a pretty girl like you.”

The second Jake got home he was going to kill all of them, starting with Heeseung.

a/n : literally hate my writing but that’s fine 💪 anyways yn met enha and jake not knowing her name? he’s always called her prada girl and never actually realized he never got her name😭

SYNOPSIS ⮕ You know Jake Sim and you love Prada, it was already a perfect combination. You just happened to always be in the same place as him, at the same time. And that place just happened to be the Prada store. It’s not your fault that your Prada collection expands as your interactions grow. Especially not considering that Jake couldn’t stop himself from fawning over you (and your mini skirts).

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sorrowfulrosebud · 8 months ago

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Oh boy jokes on you, saying "give me Shoji asks" summons me from the void! How about werewolf or puppy boy head canons? Like he's had a hard life, and reader is just good and gentle to him? Calls him a handsome boy?

I AM FIFHTING THE URGE TO CONVULSE TWITCH AND DIE AHHHHHHHH ANON I LOBE UIUE BIG BRAIN SO MUCH

🜸 First and foremost, Shoji is definitely a big dog breed. I’m thinking like Tibetan Mastiff. Big, beefy boy with the fluffiest ears and MASSIVE tail.

🜸 I think reader would most likely have adopted Shoji in a hybrid adoption shelter. He had a very neglectful past; his mother passing not long after birthing him, being thrown from house to house. Some people were really mean and beat him, giving the poor puppyboynasty scars on his mouth 🥺🥺

🜸 He handed himself in to the shelter. He couldn’t afford to live on the streets since he needed a bed and food. Poor puppy just wanted a proper chance at a family 🥺

🜸 Many families pulled faces at the thought of keeping Shoji. He was so so big, and given his background they all thought he’d be too rough with the kids.

🜸 SOBBING THATS WHEN HE WEARS A MUZZLE TO MAKE PEOPLE FEEL COMFORTABLE BUT DOESNT REALISE IT CAUSES THE OPPOSITE ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

🜸 You end up wandering into the adoption agency, looking for a more mature hybrid to take home. You were brought in front of the MASSIVE hybrid who looked far too cramped for his pen :(

🜸 His eyes shone a little at the idea of being seen. You knelt in front of him, offering him a smile before seeing the muzzle.

The attendant at the agency led you through the heavy metal door amidst all of the noisy yapping of other hybrids. He knocked on Shoji’s door to get his attention.

Shoji’s fluffy ears pricked up. A meeting? Someone wanted to see him?! Quiet hope flooded his system. He hoped that this person would be lovely, and love him like he deserved.

You step back a little to give Shoji his space as he opens the door. The hybrid’s head bumped noisily against the door as you winced in sympathy. A small whine left his lips as he rubbed his sore ears, before shutting up and looking at you.

Your eyes widened a little bit at the sight of the bulky muzzle. You couldn’t recall a history of biting or aggression. Putting that aside, you smiled softly at the tall puppyboy. Shoji’s tail wagged slowly, bending down so he was sat on his knees in front of you. Again, your eyes widened at his practised submission.

You got to your knees too, leaving a respectful amount of space between the two of you.

“Hello, sweet boy. My, aren’t you so pretty,” you cooed softly, offering a hand for Shoji to sniff if he should so want. Onyx eyes widened.

He was…pretty?!

His head found itself slowly dropping, until it made contact with your hand. Your fingers worked a gentle rhythm near the base of his ears, hearing the womp of his tail behind him. You giggle softly, much to Shoji’s delight. Your head turns to the attendant.

“Can we get the paperwork started, please? I’d love to take Shoji home today if possible.”

🜸 You’d asked about the muzzle, your heart melting when the attendant said that he only took it off to eat. He said that Mezo was frightened of people seeing his face and being scared of him.

🜸 He also gave you his history. Mezo did NOT do well with abandonment. He was a very anxious hybrid, often bending over backwards for other hybrids so they would like him, much to no avail.

🜸 You took Mezo home that day.

The thick door of your home opened slowly, allowing Mezo to sniff around. His tail hadn’t stopped wagging since you clipped the generic brand collar around his neck. The leash hung loosely in your hand, making Mezo a little anxious but didn’t dampen his new mood.

You undid your shoes, placing them neatly on the rack. A hearty sigh left your lips as you faced your new puppyboy.

“Well my sweet boy, I’m super hungry. Would you like some lunch?” You offered him gently.

Mezo’s mind blanked out at the nickname.

He was…sweet?

“Mezo?” You asked him softly. Black eyes snapped back to you as he stood awkwardly in the hall. Is it too soon to ask for cuddles? You smiled at him softly.

“Here, come in the living room. You’re free to explore anywhere you like,” you explained happily, leaving to go to the kitchen. A quiet whine makes you turn your head around to the shaky puppyboy. Your heart melted at the sight of his teary eyes.

“Oh no, sweet pup don’t cry! I know new places can be scary,” you walk to him, slowly placing your hands in his snow white locks.

His tail wagged as his hands struggled to stay by his sides. You caught on immediately.

“Would you like to cuddle, my good boy?” You ask him softly. Mezo nodded wildly, following you to the couch. He kneels in front of you, wrapping his arms around you as he rests his face against your tummy. The muzzle rides uncomfortably into your tummy as you wince.

“Mezo? You know you can take the muzzle off. I know you don’t have a problem with biting or aggression.”

Mezo physically tenses beneath you.

“I know of your background. I know your poor face has been scarred. But please know,” you lift his teary face with your hands.

“I’m never going to give you up. You don’t need to keep the muzzle on whenever we’re in the same room. I understand if you want to keep your face covered until you feel comfortable, but I have some bandanas and masks. They’d be so much better for your poor skin,” you offered, kissing Mezo’s forehead gently.

Poor Mezo’s brain was melting. So much praise and choice was too much.

“M-mask please,” he mumbled shyly. You smiled at the sound of his gruff voice.

“Of course, sweet boy.”

#🥀 rambles #AHHHHH THIS IS PROBS ASS BUT IM SLEEPY #bnha x reader #shoji mezo #mezo shoji #shoji #mezo shoji x reader #mezo x reader #hybrid bnha #hybrid bnha x reader

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gemstone-roses · 2 years ago

Note

I’ve really enjoyed your Hannibal fics and I was wondering if y could do one with fem reader when Hannibal and them get in a argument and he tries to woo her with gifts and stuff but it doesn’t work so he sets up like a really cute picnic or something xx thank you 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hi! Thankyou so much! I enjoy writing them!

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff, kissing.

Reblogs and comments much appreciated thankyou🥺

He realises he's fucked up about three seconds after the door shuts, he steadies himself on the counter.

He can't even remember what you had been arguing about, but he remembers the moment the words left his lips before he could stop himself.

And your reaction hurt him the most.

You didn't yell, you didn't shout, scream, tell him he went too far, you just calmly said,

"Well then, I think I'll go now".

There's no attitude in your words, no sarcasm, no fight.

And hannibal realises then he's really done it.

He hesitates to call, it takes everything in him not to pick up the phone but he knows its what you need.

He starts with flowers. They appear on your desk, they are far too grand for you to feel comfortable displaying them, and he knows that, but he's not thinking with all his usual consideration right now.

He knows the gifts he's been sending probably didn't go down well, because your still not talking to him.

He even saw you pour the coffee he had left for you down the sink.

Deep down hannibal knew buying you gifts to apologise would never work, so when his mind has cleared slightly, he can think a bit clearer, he knows exactly what to do.

Instead of finding a gift at your desk today, you found a note. Handwriting out of a fairytale, you knew it was from hannibal.

It said to meet him on the top of the hill you'd spent your summer evenings on.

You loved it, there was a single cherry blossom tree at the top, and when the wind blew and the petals fell, you felt serene up there.

You walk the path up to the hill, your mood towards hannibal had long gone, you were just waiting for him to come -with a bit of grovelling- back to you.

You reached the top of the hill and hannibal stood from the blanket he'd laid out and walked towards you.

"Hi darling" he whispers, relief washing over him, because you showed up.

"Hi" you smile.

"I, I made some food, your favourite" he smiles and you think you might melt because here is hannibal, tripping over his words, apologising.

"Ooh, good, I'm starving" you laugh.

Hannibal wraps his arm around your waist, tenativley.

You lean into his embrace and he holds you tighter.

"Im sorry" he kisses the top of your head.

"I know" you say

"Truly, I should not have said what I did, and I hope you can forgive me" he says, his hand stroking up and down your side.

"Hannibal, we've all said something we shouldn't have done at one time or another, myself included" you assured him.

"I know but- "it still leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be" you say. And hannibal smiles. He ushers you to sit down and grabs a bottle of your favourite sparkling drink.

"Here darling" he offers you a glass and you stretch your legs out on the blanket.

"Thankyou, this is beautiful". You whisper, tilting your head back to look up at the canopy of the cherry blossom tree.

"Much better than that horrendously over the top bouquet you sent me" you jibe at him, hannibal leans back with you and laughs.

"Sorry about that" he says, and he leans his head forward just a tiny bit as if to indicate he really is sorry. You place your free hand on his chin, placing your drink down behind you.

You lean into him, catching his lips in a kiss. Hannibal props himself up so he's able to grasp your face with his hands.

He kisses you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.

He breaks the kiss eventually, leaving you breathless.

"The food is going cold" he whispers, hand running across your jaw.

Finally, hannibal hands you a plate of the food, smiling.

"Thankyou, you say" the stunning picnic he's put together warming your heart, and hannibal, is forgiven.

#hannibal lecter fanfiction #hannibal x reader #hannibal imagine #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal fanfiction

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onlyswan · 1 year ago

Text

summary: in which jungkook misses you before he even leaves.

idol!jungkook x reader / angst, fluff / word count: 3.7k

content/warnings: they both cry, they’re so in love and anxious of being apart 🥲 pls somebody give my babies a box of tissue damn it!!! / making out :") might be one of my favs i’ve written heh cherry koo ily

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hiii this serves as a prologue kinda to the giving up drabbles <3 and as to not confuse the timeline, this one takes place in sept 2018 and the first giving up drabble june 2019 ^^ hehe reblogs/feedback are appreciated + as always i’d love to chat abt ur thoughts 🥺

—

“i’ll call you when i arrive at the dorm, baby. let’s pack the rest of my things together, hmm?”

you hum softly in agreement, hiding your face on jungkook’s chest so he won’t see you yawn.

you’re so adorable, he thinks to himself with a grin.

matching his outfits with you in preparation for his travels has always been one of the little ways you spend quality time together. yes, you will be physically apart for most of this year and the next… but if he just pushes that fact in the back of his mind for an hour or two so he can make you laugh with his purposely horrendous choices, he thinks he may be able to leave with a lighter heart.

one last kiss is granted to your forehead, and you nuzzle your cheeks against his warm hands to cherish every ounce of his touch you can manage to steal.

you peek from the small space of the door to smile at your lover, which he then returns rife with fondness. you wave and bid your silly bye bye’s to each other, and it’s you who ultimately closes the door despite the voice in your head bewailing its protests.

it creates a clicking sound as you push it all the way, and after that, the defeaning silence fills your apartment like a toxic gas that makes it impossible to breathe. with no other soul left to witness it, your walls involuntarily come crumbling down. your eyes become blurry with unshed tears, and they fall one by one, some getting caught by your eyelashes. they hang heavy until they inevitably roll down your cheeks, as if they’re desperate not to crash and break, as if they’re horrified of their fate towards doom… much like you are.

recognizing the sensation of your weak knees threatening to give way, you lean your forehead on the hardwood to relieve some of the weight burdening your shoulders.

your chores have piled up while you were recklessly spending every second you had left with your boyfriend. you have better things to do than to cry. however, you can’t control your face that contorts to express the pain of having your heart mercilessly squeezed in your chest, tighter and tighter as the distance between you and jungkook grows, and it will only continue to do so.

you wind up as a heap on the floor, an intricate collection of love yet to be given and shards of memories calamitous and beautiful, knees hugged to your chest as you weep.

you swore you wouldn’t do this. you fucking swore you wouldn’t do this to yourself.

since losing your family, you’ve been alone, trying to survive in this world like a leaf in the eye of a storm, carried by a raging river that travels to an unknown sea. you then promised that no matter how much you affection you’ve grown to have for someone, if there comes a time that they make you feel lonely (skin-on-skin or heart-to-heart), you will be the one to walk away first. even if it hurts, even if it leaves you empty inside. for one, you’ve never liked wasting your time. you know what you want and what you need— someone who will stay within reach. your day-to-day life is far too draining for you to find the energy to beg for love and attention… and for the love of god, there’s already too many people you wish were still by your side.

your friends have witnessed you annihilate hearts and egos, leaving behind a string of jaded lovers.

but jungkook, with his bunny-like smile and endless gestures of kindness… has somehow slithered his way into a space in your heart where no one has ever been.

the apartment feels too empty with him not around. he’s not knocking rhythmically at your door from the inside to announce his arrival. he’s not in the kitchen humming songs while chopping vegetables. he’s not in the shower yelling at you because you forgot that turning on the sink makes his water cold. he’s not in the living room watching a movie on your laptop. he’s not snuggled closely with you and snoring execessively by your ear.

it’s going to be like this for a while. it’s always going to be like this, you realize.

you’re so fucking lonely.

you’ve only gotten used to him being here, and now you need to re-learn what it’s like to be without him.

you’re forced to gasp for air as you sob uncontrollably, interrupted by occasional hiccups that make your body jolt. you taste the salt in your tears as they seep into the crevice between your lips, can feel them beginning to poison your skin.

you let jungkook come too close. he slept on your bed and he learned that you’re always cold. he enveloped you in the safety of his warm embrace and you couldn’t will yourself to leave after the first time. you’ve surrendered to him the control over your body, and also your heart, which you may be breaking alongside your rule but… walking away would mean forsaking yourself.

for the first time, you are crying not because of the absence of love, but the abundance of it. humans are essentially a collection of dead stars that are brought back to life when they are consumed by the electric ache of love and yearning. you are addicted to the antidote that is the touch of another body that burns the same.

you’re free falling.

if you were to choose the cause of your madness, you would choose this.

because for the first time, you are not cursing a name, but the universe and its twisted ways. in your one-bedroom apartment, you don’t feel small; your arrogance is as big as the sun that threatens to swallow the earth whole. the empty space on your bed is now in the shape of the man who loves you.

the back of your head hits the door, and you sigh at the new predicament that presents itself to you: the fluorescent lightbulb at your doorway is flickering as if to signal its impending death.

your bad vision begs you to look away.

it’s too high. it’s too high for you to reach. jungkook isn’t here anymore.

you bury your face in your hands, another wave of tears spilling over before you could get a hold of yourself. your cries are unapologetic; you sound like a little child who got their hair pulled at the playground.

you would much rather wait for him than find a solution. you want to bear the weight of him in every possible way there is. you want to have him in mind every time you flip the light switch, because you always seem to forget that it’s dying after a long day at school.

but for now, all you can do is sit on the floor and smell his perfume on your clothes as you wait for his call.

—

jungkook is still frozen on the driver’s seat, struck with a suspicion that he left something behind in your apartment, but he can’t figure out what else there is besides his heart in the palm of your hands.

he opens up every single compartment of his backpack, but he soon carelessly discards it at the backseat because he has no idea what it is he’s even looking for.

“what is it? what is it? what is it?” he mutters absentmindedly to himself, wide doe eyes still actively darting around the car as he mulls over what could possibly be missing. “am i an idiot? am i just making things up in my head?”

but he is leaving for tour after all, it would be a big headache if he forgets to bring something important.

something important such as…

proceeding with a final inspection, he starts patting around his body, from his chest down to the pockets of his sweatpants.

“ahhh-” he makes a noise of enlightenment when he discovers one of them to be completely empty.

it then becomes vivid in his mind— the memory of him lazily setting down his wallet on your study table before he crawled on your single-sized bed as if it’s his own.

“…shit. i need to go back.”

—

he has a smirk plastered on his face as he jogs his way up to your apartment floor. radiating with pure excitement unbeknownst to himself, he even begins to skip a step with every long stride he makes across the staircase.

thanks to his forgetfulness, he found an excuse to be with you for a few minutes more.

the fourth door straight ahead, he still remembers chanting in his head the first time he visited your building on his own.

he stands before it with the intention to surprise you, but ironically, he is the one who ends up freezing in place. your muffled sobs escape through the narrow cracks of the door, and his hand slowly slips away from the handle until it drops back to his side. his vision becomes unfocused, mind going blank, only registering the shortness of his breath and the powerful punch to his gut.

that sweet, heart-fluttering smile that comforted him must’ve killed you inside.

—

“i won’t forget to call after every show.”

“that does sound nice but…” you scrunch your nose cutely. “i won’t be upset, if that’s what you’re worried about. go straight to sleep when you’re exhausted. i know you won’t have much time to rest.”

“please! you can watch me sleep too.” he pouts. “you know i always make it work. while i eat, while i shower! that won’t change. i need to see you and gain strength… or else i seriously think i won’t survive this one.”

and jungkook hopes that he’s not too much of a burden for loving you.

although, you did tell him once in passing— that anyone can be passionate, but not everyone will bravely go on stage every night to showcase those passions, even if it means testing the very limits of the human body.

“i can’t allow that to happen, can i?” you click your tongue, copying the angry frown of your boyfriend, who you find so, so, so cool.

his features soften after you pinch his soft cheek.

“your hyungs might kill me if i make their little one mope around missing me too much.”

“w-what do you mean?” he becomes flushed with embarrassment. “what kind of things do they tell you?!”

“nothing much.” your eyes shine with a glint of faux innocence. “when we were trainees, jungkook did this… since meeting you, he’s gotten more stubborn… can you tell him to wake up earlier if he plans on showering for an hour? you know, just things like that.”

“aish! jimin-hyung!” he releases a deep sigh to express his exasperation, knitted forehead not doing much to diminish the roundness of his eyes. “i bet one of them is jimin-hyung! i’m right, aren’t i? you- you’re getting too close with him! i can’t allow this- really, i- ah! no! no!”

the burst of laughter that fills the room only confirms his suspicion. you roll over on the bed to cover your face, half of your body collapsing on top of his, and you clutch your aching belly when he begins to aggressively shake you in a joking manner.

“listen, you can’t become best friends! you hear me? don’t! my secrets… what’s going to happen to them? who else can i tell them to?!”

immediately recognizing his poor choice of words once they have left his mouth, jungkook purses his lips in regret, and it’s his turn to feel his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

“oh, really?” you slowly sit up as you stare at him with raised eyebrows. “and what kind of secrets do you need to keep from me? huh?”

he doesn’t waste a second to reply, scrambling as to not leave any space for you to formulate more doubts in your head.

“nothing! nothing, baby!” he flashes a dreamy smile in return to your sharp glare. he gently cups the back of your head to pull you back closer, puckering his lips as he tries to meet you halfway. “come here- give me a kiss.”

you ignore his advances, moving away from him with a scoff you don’t even bother to hide. the annoyance bubbling up inside of you feels irrational, and yet you can’t stop it from controlling your body language.

his jaw slacks in disappointment. he despises being denied affection, more importantly, a kiss meant to be shared with you.

“are you mad?”

you turn your back against him, scooting closer to the edge of the bed, but jungkook doesn’t waste time in chasing after you.

“baby!” he whines, seizing your arm and tightly embracing you from the side before you can escape. “i was just joking- i promise- i swear. you’re even the first person i share my secrets with nowadays!”

you sigh in defeat, eyes fluttering shut as you allow him to caress your face and pepper your cheek with loving kisses. loud, and slightly wet, which you used to not be fond of when it came to the lovers you had before, but as for jungkook and his dewy lips, you weirdly don’t seem to mind.

“please don’t be mad.” he coos lightheartedly before ducking his head to press his lips against yours. “i don’t want us to fight before i go.”

“i’m not mad.” your reply is quiet, and it drips with hesitance. “i just don’t want to think about you having secrets while you’re away.”

you turn to communicate directly with his eyes. if you feel sick to your stomach imagining him as a person you’d never have the grace to forgive, you don’t show it.

“you understand where i’m coming from, right?”

he meekly nods.

this is another reason why he is eager to spend all his free time with you, albeit through a screen smaller than the palm of his hand, and perhaps buy you trinkets from every city that welcomes him because everything reminds him of you. he wants to give you the reassurance that he doesn’t have any plans on doing something that may hurt you. this will be excruciating, he knows, but it is also a chance to prove himself as a boyfriend worthy of your tears and sacrifices. this can’t end before it begins. he doesn’t think he’d be able to bear that. he just celebrated his first birthday with you. it hasn’t been long since you uttered the three words he’s been anxiously waiting to hear.

“i love you. please give me your trust for now… i won’t waste it. you’ll see, at the end of this, we’ll be stronger. i promise i won’t forget my responsibilities as your partner even if we’re physically apart.”

he tenderly strokes your hair, eyes filled with galaxies memorizing every inch of your face. he’s scared, too. he’s scared that he’s overestimating himself. too ambitious, too greedy for wanting both the world and the most beautiful person he has ever seen in it to love him. he’s scared of getting too exhausted. he’s scared that you won’t be there anymore when he opens his eyes.

“i will probably mope around, though, missing you too much…” he pauses, then he makes up his mind.

him getting more stubborn since he met you— it might just have some truth to it that he’s too sheepish to say out loud, especially if his members were around to hear it.

“yes, i will seriously be a handful.” he nods to himself. “so i’m already apologizing early.”

“what are those responsibilities exactly?”

“to show you that i love you!” he exclaims in a tone that screams obviously. “to make you happy, to keep you safe… to stay committed to you- yah, you already know these things!”

but still, it’s nice to hear him say it. this bed of roses is a bed of thorns; he has chosen to sleep on it with you.

you giggle heartily at the sight of his face getting flushed. “you’ve been doing a great job then, baby.”

the praise causes his doe eyes to sparkle with glee. “really?”

“really!” his heart skips a beat when you softly cup his face in your hands, wearing that kind smile he can’t help but fall in love with over and over again. “don’t worry, i won’t let you miss me too much. i have my share of the responsibilities too.”

—

he swallows the lump in his throat, shakily sitting on the floor with his back against the door. he doesn’t know how long he stays there. he only knows that it’s near sunrise because the lights across the hallways have gone out one by one.

with an elbow resting on top of his knee, he fiddles with the laces of his shoe with no rhythm or rhyme— silently crying with you, clueless as to what he should do. he didn’t learn about this in school, nor during dance practices. no one teaches you what to do when you hurt a person you love but there’s no fault to fix and apologize for.

every now and then, a tenant passes by, and he is overwhelmed with the urge to scream at them to fuck off and mind their own business.

adding to his frustration is his phone, which has been vibrating with calls and text messages. he only spares them a dismissive glance before clicking the off button. yes, he fucking knows it’s already 5am. yes, he’s still with his baby. however, he is forced to send a reply to his manager when asked if they could finish packing his luggages for him to save time. no. no, no, no.

on the other side of the door, the pitter-patter of mechanical rain tickles your ears. your nimble fingers doesn’t cease on tapping on the keyboard even as your eyes stray to the contact name above the conversation, just to make sure that it’s your boyfriend you’re texting.

to: my jungkook

babyyy the sun is about to rise

so i’m not sleepy anymore :(

you're not home yet?

wait. if you're still driving just reply later

be a good driver before a good bf for now ☺️

ohoh i don’t mind if you don't have time to call anymore. just text me rq before you take off pleaseee so i know you're safe and sound

and after the flight ofc!! 😭

i love you! ❤️

seconds later, a pounding at the door makes your body jolt in shock. you carelessly rush to stand up, the safety measure of looking through the peephole not even crossing your mind before you swing it open.

jungkook stuns you with his presence, chest heaving with every breath as he studies you in a fog of haze. your messy hair perfectly frames your pretty face. your parted lips are raw from the crime of your sharp teeth forcibly putting an end to your crying. your eyes are still damp with tears, and they shine every time the warm light hanging above your head flickers.

if you could only read his mind, you won’t have to worry about him wanting anybody else.

once again, he finds himself helplessly infatuated. why do you have to look utterly bewitching even when you cry? fuck, and your texts… how did he get so lucky? you fuel something carnal inside of him that he has difficulty putting into words.

and so, he allows his actions to speak for himself.

“jungk-” his name is interrupted with a high-pitched whimper caught in your throat. your trembling hands desperately grasp the sides of his hoodie as you stumble backwards, struggling to recriprocate the unrestrained fervour of his kisses.

he’s out of control. he has never kissed you like this before. you don’t know if he doesn’t feel your weak fists punching his chest or he just doesn’t care. you feel dizzy… dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.

you’re confused why he’s still standing at your doorway. you’re terrified of losing your balance. you’re crushing a pair of sneakers underneath the soles of your feet and it hurts. but his fingers are tightly tangled with your hair, the others playing a saccharine hymn along the keys of your spine, and for the pleasure he gives, you can endure to live with the pain.

the familiar taste of mint on his tongue is far too addictive for you not to indulge. you can’t stop craving for more of it, more of him, and you let your lungs burn.

but soon it mixes with the salt in his tears as his emotions crash on the shore like a tsunami. the seal of your lips is broken by a quiet sob, and in shame, he ends the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“____, what do i do? i don’t want to leave.”

your heart shatters into pieces as he sniffles, voice cracking as he musters up the courage to confess to you in between.

“jungkook…”

the words of sincerity feel heavy on his tongue. he’s never been good at this; always relied on his ability to feel. in spite of that, he wants to bare all of himself to you, and he prays that you believe him when he says- “i can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”

“so don’t. you don’t have to think about things like that.” you sigh as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, subtly swaying your bodies to soothe him. “come on, love. why are you crying…? you know where to find me, don’t you?”

you feel him nod before he mumbles pensively. “here… or school, or the restobar.”

“that’s right.” you chuckle. “just don’t lose your key. i’m not going anywhere.”

but he fears it’s his goddamn mind he might just lose. he squeezes his eyes shut, embracing you tighter as he counts the seconds in his head. he will let go after thirty, then perhaps he will stay for another ten.

in another lifetime, jungkook wishes that he could tell you the same.

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#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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