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snowballseal · 9 months ago

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Them as supernatural creatures (LaDS)

Summary: This is my take on what supernatural creature each guy would be. They're pretty long, and either a fic where reader discovers what they are or a domestic moment they share together.

Rafayel - kitsune

Zayne - vampire

Xavier - guardian angel

Sylus - demon

Word Count: all roughly 1500 words

Note: These honestly came out soooo much longer than I expected. I might add a fic for Caleb, cause honestly, I'm really warming up to him. What supernatural creature should he be?

I'll probably come back and edit later, so let me know if you catch any mistakes!

---

Rafayel / Kitsune

“Rafayel…” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?! They deserved it,” Rafayel defends himself as he flops down onto the couch.

“That doesn’t mean you can screw with people whenever you want,” you chastise softly and sit next to him, “You’re supposed to keep your identity a secret.”

Rafayel gives you a pout. Letting out a dramatic huff, he falls over into your lap, stretching out lazily instead of giving you any kind of response. You bite back a laugh, his weight pressing you into the couch, effectively trapping you as he makes himself comfortable. It takes everything in you to not give in to his usual cute tactics, the concern gripping your chest not quite letting go.

“Seriously, Raffie, it could be dangerous,” you continue, worry seeping into your voice.

“It’s fiiine,” he sighs, ocean eyes glinting up at you with amusement, “You worry too much, cutie. You wouldn’t even know if I hadn’t told you.”

“Still-”

“Nope, no more worrying,” he cuts you off quickly, reaching up to pinch both your cheek with a teasing, cheshire grin, “Miss Bodyguard is off duty now. This spirit wants his girlfriend to cuddle with him.”

Swatting at his hands, you can feel a blush creeping up your neck. Sometimes it still surprises you how care-free he is, like nothing could ever touch him. Which maybe he’s right. And you know he’s never going to stop his antics. Still, you worry. It’s a part of your nature, wanting to protect people, especially the ones you love, especially him.

But Rafayel is persistent, coaxing you to relax with playful touches and banter. He knows exactly how to unwind you, and how to rile you up, every button, every nerve. You feel almost powerless to resist, to hold onto your lingering doubts. And it’s not even his powers, it’s just Rafayel, your Rafayel.

And of course you give in. With a weak sigh, you settle into the couch, your fingers finding their way into his curls to calm what’s left of your frazzled nerves. Rafayel hums, low and content, his eyes flickering shut as he arches up into your touch like a cat.

“Do you want to stop hiding your ears?” You ask quietly, something warm and tender winding through your ribs.

Rafayel lets out another low rumble, eyes opening a fraction to look up at you suspiciously, “You know, sometimes I wonder if you like my ears more than you like me. That wouldn’t be true, now would it, cutie?”

“Of course not,” you tease, ruffling his hair, “I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Mhm, sure.” A small smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, because of course he knows that you do truly love him for him, but the fox does love his games.

It’s almost unnoticeable, the way he dismisses his transformation magic. Every time you can’t help but watch, fully enraptured by the change. A pair of soft ears flicker up from his hair, as if they were simply hiding in his curls the whole time. And his tails. You blink, and suddenly they appear, fluffy and plush, the same color as his hair. They curl around you, as if seeking out your warmth, the same way Rafayel turns to nuzzle into your stomach. The spirit gives a happy rumble when you rub his ears, pressing impossibly closer.

“You have no idea how irritating it is to hide them all the time.” His voice comes out muffled by your sweater, his ears flicking back before pressing to your fingers again. “I imagine it’s how you humans feel when you wear itchy clothes.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” you agree, “I’m glad you don’t have to hide them around me anymore.”

“You’re the first human I’ve allowed to see my true form in a long time, ya know.”

Your heart flutters a little at that. It’s a fact you’re well aware of, and one you try to never take for granted. It had taken a long time for Rafayel to share this with you.

Ever since you met in the park, you knew something was different about him. He was beautiful, after all. More beautiful than you thought a person could be. And there was always something about his smile, something that set you on edge but also drew you in. The mischievous glint in his eyes never wavering, the almost unnatural grace he moves with, even the way he talks, as if he remembers times long gone by.

It all clicked when he finally told you. When he showed you his true form. A fox spirit. Everything made complete sense, but also no sense at all in that moment. First, you couldn’t comprehend it. Wanderers, yes, those you could wrap your head around. Mystical fox spirits? No. No, that took a few days to really settle in.

Still, it was Rafayel. It was always Rafayel. And the moment he came to you after those few days of distance, tentative and quiet in a way you had never witnessed from the artist, you made your decision.

A life without him wasn’t possible. Not for you. Not with how you had fallen in love with him.

“So, tell me again why you tricked those guys into thinking a bear was chasing them?” You ask, tone fond as you continue to rub the soft fur on his ears.

Rafayel huffs, rolling on his back to meet your gaze more easily. The swirling colors of his eyes gleam with that familiar mischief, his canines flashing sharply in a dangerous grin, “They were hunting for sport, so I showed them what it’s like to be hunted.”

He really is scary sometimes, you think to yourself, biting back a smile.

“I’m sure they’ll think twice about hunting in your woods again.”

“They better,” he snips, “If I catch them again I’ll send a real bear after them.”

“I’m sure the forest thinks you’re quite a good guardian, mister fox spirit,” you tease, ruffling his hair fondly.

Rafayel suddenly shifts, and in the blink of an eye he’s leaning over you, his arms braced against the couch on either side of your head. You freeze, eyes going wide as you look up at him, pulse racing in your ears. The fox spirit leans down, nose brushing yours, that same dangerous smile pulling at his lips.

“And what do you think, miss hunter?” He asks, breath warm against your lips.

A lump forms in your throat, making it hard to speak, to even breathe with him this close. And Rafayel can tell, his eyes narrowing with amusement. He lifts one hand, fingers tracing delicately along your cheek so you feel the faint edge of his claws.

“What? Fox got your tongue?” He all but taunts, leaning closer. His eyes slowly trail down to your lips, his grin widening. “I could show you what that really feels like if you want.”

…

Heat flares across your cheeks. You gape at him, shock mixing with embarrassment mixing with something you don’t want to admit to. Did he just say what you think he did?

Rafayel keeps his cool facade for only a few more seconds before he cracks, bursting into a fit of laughter. You stare at him, blinking wildly, brain slowly catching up with it all. And then you’re shoving him.

“Rafayel!” You squeak, and he only laughs harder, which in turn, makes you more flustered. “You’re such a- I can’t believe you! God, you’re insufferable.”

The artist catches your hands when you go to hit him again, his ocean eyes crinkling along the edges. Snickering softly, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your angry pout.

“Sorry, my bride,” he hums unapologetically against your lips, pressing a scattering of chaste kisses along your pink cheeks. “It felt like the best way to change the subject.”

“My lover is such a sadist,” you grumble, trying to turn away from him. It’s difficult to keep pouting when he showers you in such soft affection. “My poor heart can’t take this, you know.”

Rafayel cups your face, drawing you back to face him so he can press another kiss to your lips, this one tender and gentle and slow. And just like before, you’re powerless to resist him. Your fingers brush against his neck as you return the kiss, letting the warmth of his touch wash over you. Everything about him is so addicting, so enthralling, like you could get lost and never find your way out. It almost scares you, how much you’re willing to lose for this man.

Eventually Rafayel draws away, if only to let you catch your breath, still teasing you, “Now do you forgive me, cutie?”

“Hmm, I guess so,” you sigh, pretending to be appeased. Your fingers trail innocently up into his hair, until you’re close enough to give his fluffy ear a playful pinch. Rafayel squawks and pulls away, giving you the most dramatic look of betrayal. Grinning, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, “Okay, now I definitely do.”

Rafayel whines, reaching up to rub his ear, “Who’s the sadist now?”

“Watch it, or I might just pull your tail.”

“Okay, okay, we’re even…Now can we cuddle?”

---

Zayne / Vampire

You’ve known Zayne practically your whole life. Well, all of your life that you can remember, at least. He’s always been something constant, if not distant at times. And while you never assumed you knew everything about the doctor, you thought you knew more than most.

That is, until you wander into his office one day to find him passed out on the floor.

“Zayne?” You freeze in the doorway to his office, eyes blowing wide.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t show a single sign of life. Fear sinks deep into your bones, wraps around your lungs like a noose. And then your legs are moving. Your shoes desperately try to grip the tile as you dash across the room, panic dulling the throb in your knees as you drop to the ground beside him.

Pulse. You need to check his pulse. And his breathing.

Hands shaking, you press your fingers below his jaw, only to inhale sharply at the shock of how cold his skin is. Like ice. Too cold. No one should be this cold. And you can’t find a pulse. You skim your fingers down his neck, looking, looking, but still nothing.

Leaning over the still doctor, you press your ear to his chest and wait. Your lungs start to ache from how you desperately hold your breath, but it’s nothing compared to the terror gripping your heart. Because you hear nothing. Nothing at all.

You draw back, lips parting, ready to call out for someone, anyone.

Until a hand clamps firmly over your mouth.

A surprised scream escapes you, muffled by cold fingers, as you find yourself flipped, a hand holding the back of your head to prevent it from hitting the ground. Chest heaving, you draw a fist back, ready to fight back against your attacker, only to freeze when your eyes meet a pair of hazel ones.

Zayne.

Relief washes over you. Quickly followed by confusion. You quickly push his hand away, brow knitting together.

“What the hell, Zayne?” You bark, pushing yourself onto your elbows.

The doctor quickly backs away, resting back on his haunches. You take a moment to look him over, worry still clinging to your bones. He’s pale, somehow more pale than usual at least. Dark shadows rest under his eyes, which appear almost bleary as he gazes back at you. He looks exhausted.

Dead, even.

“You weren’t breathing,” you whisper, getting to your knees so you can check his temperature again. “Your heart wasn’t beating. I checked. What happened? How are you awake right now?”

Zayne grimaces, flinching away from your touch, and you freeze.

A deafening silence fills the office. It’s an odd stand-off, you staring him down, confusion burning behind your gaze, while he does everything he can to avoid it. For a split second, though, you see something you’ve never seen in the doctor. Uncertainty.

“Zayne?” You call again, voice going soft, “Talk to me. Please.”

Zayne hesitates, seemingly debating in his head before he speaks, his voice a low rasp, “I apologize for scaring you. That must have been startling to walk in on.”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, slowly making your way closer to him, “I’m more concerned about you right now. You were dead. At least, I thought you were. So what happened?”

Another beat of silence.

“I must have lost consciousness from exhaustion. I haven’t slept much the past few days,” he tries, but even to your ears, it sounds like a weak excuse.

“Zayne, your heart wasn’t beating. You-” You press a hand to his chest, perhaps to prove a point, perhaps to knock some sense into him. To do something.

Except his heart still isn’t beating.

You're paralyzed. Eyes locked on his chest. Confusion creeps over you, like tendrils of ice spreading through your chest. Sharp. Suffocating. This isn’t right. This can’t be real. It can’t.

Zayne lets out another sigh, this one resigned and tired. Like he’s finally given up. His cold fingers gently cover yours. He draws your hand away from his chest, though he never lets go of it.

“I suppose there’s no hiding it anymore,” he murmurs, voice stiff, like how he speaks when he’s working. “Come, let’s sit on the couch. I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable there.”

You don’t say a word as he helps you to your feet. You can’t. Your tongue feels like a dead weight in your mouth. And even if you could talk, you don’t know what you would say. A million questions rush through your head, so blurred that you can’t pick out a single one, except-

“What are you?”

It echoes in your head raucously as you take a tentative seat on the couch. Zayne’s lips press into a tight line, and he clears his throat.

“That depends. There are many names for my condition.” His leg bounces ever so slightly as he continues, eyes still not meeting yours. “Though I suppose the most common term is vampirism.”

Vampirism.

You blink.

And blink and blink.

Vampire. He’s a vampire.

A vampire?

“Those aren’t real,” you immediately breathe out, mind racing.

A humorless smile pulls at the doctor’s lips, “I assure you, it is. I’ve suffered from the symptoms for as long as I can remember.”

A vampire. He’s a vampire. Your childhood best friend is a vampire.

“How did I not notice?” You all but squeak, examining him with this new information.

Sure, he’s pale, but Zayne’s always been pale. And it’s not like he avoids the sun. Aren’t vampires supposed to be weak to the sun or something? Plus, he’s aging, isn’t he? A million new questions race through your mind.

“Wait, do you have fangs?!”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re touching his face, basically making him open his mouth. Zayne startles, brow raising at your brazenness, but he does nothing to stop you. At first, his teeth look normal, the only thing worth noting being the excellent care he’s given them. But then you notice it. His canines seem to sharpen, just a touch longer than they should be.

And that’s all the proof you need.

“You’re a vampire,” you breathe, fingers settling along his jaw.

Zayne watches you carefully, waiting for some kind of reaction. Horror. Fear. Anger. All of those would be appropriate. But you don’t show any of them. Instead, you look at him with a mixture of disbelief and…curiosity?

Brow knitting together, Zayne reaches up to touch your wrist, just to check your pulse to make sure you haven’t gone into some sort of shock. Your pulse is steady though, if not a little accelerated.

“You’re not…frightened? Of me?” He asks slowly, confusion gleaming in the depths of his eyes.

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break out across your features, “No, Zayne, I’m not scared of you. I probably should be, but hey, I fight wanderers for a living. Do I have a lot of questions? Yes. But if you’ve really been like this since we were young, that means you’re not going to suddenly do something to me now, right?”

Your lack of concern should be worrying, but Zayne finds the tension is his shoulders slowly dripping away. Of course you would surprise him like this. You’ve always been too trusting, in his opinion, though he’s not about to correct you now.

“So, do you drink blood? I’m guessing you don’t hurt people, considering how strictly you follow your oath.” Head tilting, you give him a questioning look, eyes wide and almost innocent in their curiosity. “So where do you get it from? Blood bags? I’ve read that in a few books. Or animals? I’ve read that, too. How accurate are all those stories?”

“I could answer your questions if you slow down,” Zayne murmurs, fighting an amused smile. “I assure you, we have plenty of time.”

You flush, biting off the rest of your questions. Right. You’re not really giving him an opportunity to answer, are you? So where do you start?

“What is your first question?” The doctor prompts, thumb brushing calmly over your pulse.

“Hmm. The blood question. Do you have to drink it?”

“Yes,” he answers, though his voice rings with distaste, “I have to consume some form of blood every few months to keep my senses about me. I’ve perhaps waited too long this time.”

“Do you need some right now?” You press, brow furrowing.

Zayne hesitates. His lips pinch together again, a sign you recognize.

“No.”

“Liar. That’s why you passed out,” you accuse, though you keep your voice somewhat gentle.

He says nothing for a long moment, a mixture of guilt and discomfort crossing his features. Sighing softly, you give his cheek a light pinch.

“Zaaayne.”

“I’ve tolerated longer periods than this between feedings,” he murmurs, trying to sound dismissive, though you can hear the exhaustion creeping back into his voice, “My body must simply be enduring higher levels of stress due to the season. As long as I rest more, I’ll be fine until my next supply arrives.”

“Oooor,” you hum, hesitating only a moment before you offer, “You can draw some of my blood. Just enough to get you through till then. We know it’s clean since you always run so many tests on it, so that shouldn’t be a concern right?”

Zayne blinks in surprise. Even if you were taking this all well, he certainly wasn’t expecting you to make such an offer. But you meet his gaze, unwavering, expectant, mind already made up.

If his heart were beating, he’s sure it would stutter.

While he hates his condition, hates what he has to do to appease it, he can’t deny that the smell of your blood has always been tempting to him. Cloyingly sweet, like the sweetest dessert.

He should say no. He should just endure, as he always has.

But the determination in your eyes makes him waver. And Zayne is a weak man when it comes to anything related to you.

“It’s not advisable…” He starts, jaw tightening.

You perk up, not actually expecting him to consider it. It was a crazy idea after all, but you want to help. You hate the idea of him suffering by choice when you can do something about it.

“But…?”

“But I am not completely opposed to the idea,” he concedes, almost looking ashamed.

“Good,” you chirp, a smile lighting up your face as you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Then let’s get to work, doctor.”

God, you would be the death of him.

Well, if he were fully alive, that is.

---

Xavier / Angel

“How is it that you seem to find danger wherever you go?” Xavier murmurs, voice as even as ever, yet cradling a hint of exasperation.

Biting back a smile, you keep your attention focused on his fingers. They work with a practiced precision to bandage the laceration on your arm, adept from the years of dressing your wounds. It has become a near weekly occurrence because of your work. Getting hurt is an unfortunate side effect of being a hunter.

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so reckless if I didn’t have such a sweet angel to take care of me afterwards,” you hum, tone bordering on teasing.

Xavier’s ears flush a soft pink, his wings ruffling in some kind of indignation, which only makes your smile stretch wider. He’s always so easy to fluster, and his wings give him away every time. It makes you want to tease him even more, but when you go to do exactly that, all that escapes you is a low hiss when he swipes a pad of alcohol across another of your cuts.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his thumb brushing tenderly along your knuckles.

“S’okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath, “Just stings. I hate the shallow ones more than the actual cuts, you know?”

Xavier gives a low hum, neither agreeing or disagreeing. You’re sure he would prefer you avoid all physical injury, but that is an argument the angel lost a long time ago, not long after you first met. And what a day that was.

Xavier came into your life in a flash of light. Literally.

You remember the day with quite a bit fondness despite how horrible it was. Everything had gone wrong that day. Exams were kicking your butt, as was training for the Association. To say you were down in the dumps was an understatement, which is why you had been out in the woods, trying to enjoy a bit of silence.

That is, of course, when a wanderer decided to appear.

You did your best to handle it, but you were still just in training at the time, and it was clear you were outmatched. Things would have taken a turn for the worse if Xavier hadn’t shown up.

All you really remember is seeing a blinding light, almost like a flashbang, and then there he was. Ethereal, face set with stone-cold focus, hair silvery white like a star, but most striking were the large wings stretching from his shoulders, impossibly white, the edge of each feather glinting like a knife. With a flourish of his sword, he clashed with the wanderer, killing it in seconds.

In that moment, you were convinced you were dead. That made a lot more sense than what you were seeing, after all - an angel. Sure, he didn’t have the halo, but what else could he be? And how could you be seeing an angel if you weren’t dead?

It took him kneeling down in front of you, eyes sharp with concern as he scanned your entire body for injuries, for you to realize you were, in fact, not dead. And that’s when the questions started.

“Who are you?”

“What are you?

“Where did you come from?”

Xavier being Xavier, he danced around each answer. And you being you, you didn’t relent until you got the answers you wanted.

Not only is he an angel, he’s a guardian angel, and you’ve become his charge. And since he revealed himself to you, he can’t go back to his realm without getting in serious trouble.

That’s how you ended up here, with an angel as your roommate. What else were you supposed to do with him? The man was like a lost puppy with wings. Sure, he can take down a wanderer like it’s nothing, but ask him to work a toaster and he’ll sit there for about an hour just staring at the thing. You couldn’t leave him to fend for himself.

And it was the best decision of your life, really. Not only has he become your best friend, but maybe something more.

“I do wish you would stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger,” Xavier rumbles suddenly, pouting a little bit as he examines your now bandaged hand.

“It’s not unnecessary,” you chime softly, slipping your hand from his to poke his cheek playfully. Satisfaction curls in your chest at the blush that spreads across his beautiful features, his pout only growing cuter. “If I don’t put myself in danger, then other people will, and then innocent people can get hurt.”

“Being so selfless could get you killed,” he sighs, rising to his feet, wings flaring behind him.

Your eyes follow him, steady and warm, head craning up to hold his gaze, “I’m perfectly capable of staying alive, Xavier. And if I’m ever in trouble, I know you’ll be there to help me.”

The angel huffs. You’re not wrong, as much as he’d like to argue. What was once just a job to him, a responsibility, is now something more, something carved deep into his soul. Every fiber of his being longs to keep you safe, even if it means breaking every rule he once followed. Even if it means he must fall some day.

Ignoring that thought, Xavier settles onto the bed next to you, letting out a heavy sigh as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. His hair brushes your neck, soft and ticklish, drawing a light giggle from you as you curl your arms around his shoulders.

“You really shouldn’t worry so much, starlight.”

“You make it incredibly difficult not to,” he grumbles, voice low and muffled, “I just want to keep you safe…”

“Hmm, such a sweet angel,” you hum and card your fingers through the feathers at the base of his wings.

Xavier holds back a shiver, his body arching into your delicate touch. His wings have always been sensitive, especially when you’re the one touching them. You don’t miss the way his blush spreads down his neck, or the way his wings instinctively curl around you, as if they can block out the rest of the world, as if to make a space just for the two of you. The smile that pulls at your lips is overwhelmingly fond, just like your touch.

You love the feeling of his feathers under your fingers. At first glance, they look almost sharp, but they’re surprisingly soft, downy and warm to the touch. Without thinking, you trail your fingers along the curve of his wing and fix any out of place feathers with the utmost of care. Xavier lets out another, shaky sigh, his eyes flickering shut.

It’s a soft moment. Everything else is muted, the only sound being that of your steady breath and his lazy, content hums. Xavier nuzzles even closer to you, his body impossibly warm, his weight too much for you to support. A giggle escapes you as you lean back onto the bed, the angel settling on top of you without an ounce of shame in his expression.

“I swear, sometimes I wonder if you’re actually a cat disguised as an angel, “ you tease, reaching up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips. He leans into your palm without hesitation.

“Being a cat wouldn’t be so bad,” he murmurs, as if he’s given the idea some thought before. “I’d get to sleep all day and eat whenever I want instead of chasing a certain, reckless hunter around.”

He nips at your finger lightly, but your smile doesn’t waver.

“I think you’d get bored eventually.”

“Is that so?”

“Yah. I think you enjoy chasing me around, you just don’t want to admit it,” you chirp, tilting your head innocently, “And you’d miss me horribly, don’t you think?”

Xavier hums, turning his face to nuzzle into your palm. His lips brush your skin, a whisper of some kind of promise, making your heart flutter unevenly.

“I suppose I would…and would you miss me?” His eyes flicker back to you, narrowed, an undeniable spark of affection kindled in their blue depths.

You both know the answer.

“I’d miss you more than anything, angel.” Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his cheek. “I can’t imagine life without you.”

A hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “Then, I guess I’ll have to stay by your side.”

“You better.”

“Of course, my lady.”

---

Sylus / Demon

“What does your real form look like?”

You perch on the edge of his bed, feet kicking in the air as you watch Sylus get ready for whatever meeting he’s about to go to. Something to do with one of the other head crime bosses in the N109 Zone, you’re sure. One certainly down on their luck and looking to make a deal.

Sylus glances at you through the mirror, long fingers slowing as he fixes his cufflinks. His eyes bore into you, glinting with something violent, something vicious and bloody that should unsettle you to your core, but you don’t flinch, you don’t even blink.

Such a brave kitten, the demon thinks, amusement curling his lips.

“Curious, sweetie?”

The smile he gives you is sharp, too sharp, and your skin prickles with an instinctive kind of unease. It’s something you’ve grown used to, the way your body reacts to him. Like a lamb cornered by a wolf, everything screaming at you to run, yet you chose to stay cornered. Choose to trust the teeth pressing so gently to your throat, violence and desire so perfectly restrained to keep you safe.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you chime, head tilting ever so slightly. “I just…want to understand you better, you know?”

Sylus hums and turns his focus back to straightening his cuffs, “Is that so? Aren’t you scared of what I might look like?”

“No.” Your answer is quick, unwavering, and Sylus perks a brow.

A brave kitten indeed. He’s almost impressed. The rumors about him are none too kind, and yet here you are, seeking the truth. Without knowing what the truth means.

Giving himself one last look in the mirror, the demon turns to you. He studies you for a long moment, gaze dark, pensive, intense in a way that makes your breath hitch. His eyes darken, something predatory glinting in their cardinal depths. You look at him so innocently, as if you’re not staring down the devil himself, as if you know he’d never hurt you. It makes him want to ruin you, to see that pretty blush stain your skin all over, just to curb the morbid desire burning in his chest.

But you are right, he’d never hurt you. You’re too pure, too good. So he lets himself be soft, to the best of his ability at least.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors,” he murmurs eventually.

His shoes barely make a noise as he slowly approaches you. Each step is measured, confident, like he always is, and each step makes your heart flutter a little more. You’re all but holding your breath as Sylus comes to stand in front of you. His fingers, calloused and rough from a life of violence, graze your jaw so tenderly, drawing your face up to his.

“Are you sure you can handle it, sweetie?” He asks, voice almost taunting, though his features remain soft, unassuming.

Still unwavering in your decision, you nod, “I want to know you, Sylus. All of you.”

He holds your gaze for another long moment, as if he’s trying to read your soul. Which he very well could be, you realize. But when you look into his eyes, what you see isn’t his usual smug composure. Instead, you see a flicker in hesitation. Uncertainty. And it makes your heart ache.

Lifting a hand, you carefully cover the one Sylus holds against your cheek. You lean into the warmth of his touch, a gentle smile pulling at your lips, “You won’t scare me away, Sylus. I promise.”

So perceptive. Sylus gives a low chuckle, shaking his head, “You really aren’t like most humans, sweetheart. Most wouldn’t want to know me even in this form.”

“Well that’s their loss,” you hum, eyes crinkling up at him, “But that means I get you all to myself, so I can’t feel too bad for them.”

“My, what a selfish little kitten I have.” His thumb brushes lovingly over your cheek as his expression turns more serious. “If you want to see my true form, all you have to do is ask. Your desires are mine to fulfill, and I will do so with pleasure.”

“I want to see it, Sylus,” you repeat, “I want to see you.”

“Alright.” He draws back, that wicked smile returning, “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, kitten.”

You watch, enraptured, as he rolls his shoulders, tendrils of dark smoke curling around his body. It envelopes him completely and the air in the room grows tense, fizzling with a static that has the hair on your arms standing on end. The lights flicker, plunging the room in darkness for a split second.

And when they come back on, you have to swallow down a gasp.

Because there he is. You’re not sure exactly what you were expecting. You had heard the rumors, the whispers about the monster that haunts the N109 Zone, but this somehow seems different from everything you’ve heard.

Smoldering eyes, sharp and cat-like now, stare you down with an apprehensive gleam. A pair of dark horns curl from his silvery hair. Veins of the same color curl around his neck and down his forearms like webs, the skin of his hands bleeding pitch black. His fingers look more like claws, glinting dangerously in the dim light of the room. Your eyes catch on the tail waving behind him, the spade-tip just as sharp. And the wings. They unfurl slightly, ink-like feathers brushing the floor.

What’s most shocking though, is his size. He stands almost a foot taller, his already imposing stature now threatening. The air shivers around his form, and you can feel that familiar, foreboding sensation creeping up your spine.

But the only thought running through your head is that he’s beautiful. Beautiful like a storm. Devastating and destructive, yet you can’t tear your eyes away. And you just want to be closer.

“Are you scared, kitten?” His voice rumbles with an almost imperceptible dissonance, a hint of concern beneath his tone.

You blink, gaze snapping back up to his, “No, of course not, Sy.”

The tension seems to fall away from his shoulders at that, but he still doesn’t dare move, like he’s still worried you might run away. So you, in a bout of confidence, push off the bed and walk right up to him. Sylus watches you carefully, expression reserved.

“Can I?” You ask, keeping your tone soft as you brush your fingers against the back of his hand. You look up at him questioningly, and Sylus relents, allowing you to take his hand in yours. Your touch is unbearably soft and curious, trailing along the dark tendrils marking his skin. “Does any of it hurt? To change, I mean. Are you comfortable in this form?”

“I used to spend more time in this form,” he hums, tail flicking back and forth, “but to do business in the N109 Zone, one must be able to live in the shadows without being noticed. This form did not benefit me, so I took the form of a human to…blend in, one might say. Humans are more willing to make a deal when they believe they’re on equal ground.”

“That makes sense, but it didn’t answer my question.” You pout, tapping his hand. “Does it hurt to switch between the two?”

A small grin pulls at Sylus’ lips, revealing a sharp set of fangs, his eyes narrowing in amusement, “No, sweetie, it doesn’t.”

“Good.” You nod and brush your thumb over his knuckles. “Then I want you to take whatever form you’re more comfortable in when it’s just the two of you.”

Surprise flickers across his face, barely noticeable, but you catch it. Sylus covers it up quickly, his smile turning mischievous, “I didn’t expect you to be so comfortable with this. Does my kitten have a soft spot for monsters?”

“Maybe,” you hum, stretching up to curl your hands around his neck despite how much taller he is than you now.

Sylus relents once more, leaning down so you don’t have to balance on the tips of your toes, even though he finds it quite cute. His hands rest tentatively against your waist, his fingers nearly interlinking at the small of your back. The size difference makes you bite the inside of your cheek, heat creeping up your neck.

Pushing the thought away, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, humming happily, “You’re not a monster, though. I think you actually look quite…charming like this.”

The demon huffs out a laugh, his forehead coming to rest against yours, “Whatever you say, sweetheart. I’ll be whatever you want, as long as it makes you happy.”

“You make me happy, Sylus.”

“Well then, I suppose this arrangement will benefit us both greatly.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips, “I suppose it will.”

---

I felt most of my choices were pretty expected, but let me know if you guys think they'd be other supernatural creatures! And Happy almost Halloween!

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clairewritesfanfics · 2 months ago

Text

Villain Creation System Chapter 5

Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants

Author's note: It feels forever since the last time I published a chapter. Anyway, I apologize in advance for any grammar mistakes or missing words or other editing mistakes. I'm posting this at four in the morning and I'm groggy as heck. I'll fix any mistakes when I wake up again in... I dunno, six hours? edit: Geez I really was groggy when I wrote this, look at that many "mistakes" 😭

CHAPTER 4: Just Cut Their Red Thread of Fate Series Masterlist <<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>

The digital sprout on your phone has grown into a digital tree in the past twenty-four minutes and fifty-eight seconds. You watched the timer hit zero–it played two short rings, signaling that it was time for a break.

Amber groaned as she stretched her arms over the table, laying her cheek on the handouts you insisted that she print. “God, finally.“

“Refill?” Your lips pursed towards the empty coffee mug she pushed towards the window.

“Nah, if I drink anymore I won’t be able to sleep later.”

You nodded and picked up your frappe, all pink and sparkly. According to the barista, it was tradition to have a unique beverage for every quarterly exam week. This princess glitter concoction was this week’s special. You planned on trying everything The Mug could offer. It was fun.

“I can’t believe someone actually ordered that thing, does it even taste good?”

You pried off the plastic cover and used your straw to scrape off the remaining whipped cream. “No, it tastes exactly like it looks like.” It was like sipping on a cotton candy. Just pure sugar.

“Then stop slurping it.”

“It would be a waste not to finish it, and besides, the carbs help me think. Makes studying easier.” You were going to regret having this much sugar when you crash out eventually, but that is future you’s problem.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about this but ever since we first met, I think I’ve only ever seen you take notes on your notebook or typing in your laptop. You’re like a study addict,” she teased. “What’s your secret to getting into the groove?”

You shrugged. “I just like how simple it is.”

“Simple?” She gawked.

“I work hard and I get rewarded.”

Amber observed you for a moment. You wondered if she thought you were lonely, because if she did then you’d be offended. No one forced you into your bubble, you genuinely enjoyed school. Life was predictable in the world of academics. If you study for a test, you get a high score. There was beauty in its simplicity. Comfort, even.

“You know,” Amber said, “My sorority sisters and I’ve been planning a party for after the exams, you should come.”

“A party?” You’ve been to parties in your past life. The delightful ones were with close friends, but the rest? Mandatory crap. You smiled so much your risorius muscle must’ve hypertrophied in your old body.

[Host, this may be a good reconnaissance opportunity.]

I know that, you hissed back inside your mind. You and Amber weren’t exactly buddies, and despite your repeated interactions, you could never bring yourself to inquire about Eve or Mark. This college party was the window of opportunity you have been waiting for.

With a heavy heart, you grinned at Amber. “Sure, I’d love to go.”

Your phone sent out two short rings. Break’s over.

Amber threw her head back, a disappointed sound left her throat. You smiled for real this time.

***

“22 out of 30.” A deep line formed between Amber’s eyebrows when you finished checking her mock test.

“That’s… not good,” she whispered.

You put away your red pen. “You got 73% of the questions right, that is a major improvement from your past scores.” Originally, she could barely get past 50%.

However, instead of feeling relief, Amber continued to stare at the red x’s all over.

You knew that look.

You tried to find the correct words. Amber was a hard worker, and she was a star student in her high school, but college is different.

You drew awkward circles on the table as you spoke, “Listen, the minimum passing level for the biochemistry exam is 65%, you got this.”

But your statement just made her brows knit closer together.

Before you could say another word, a familiar clean scent wafted into your nose.

“Room for one more?” Mark asked, holding his usual order of black coffee and eggdesal.

You and Amber regarded him with surprise, followed by mild annoyance.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He added, gesturing around him; the place was packed full of zombified young adults. “You know what exam week does to coffee shops.”

Amber crossed her arms. “Seriously, when did you start hanging around coffee shops?” She glanced at you and briefly explained, “Mark hates dining at cafés.”

“What? You’re joking.”

“It’s true.”

You turned to Mark, who simply shrugged.

“What can I say?” He smiled at you. “Something about this place is different from the others.”

Amber’s eyes darted between the two of you, the gears in her head rapidly turning.

She put her hands on the table and stood. “Mark, can I talk to you for a second? Alone?”

“We can just chat here.”

“I–”

Her phone vibrated, interrupting her. She checked the sender.

“That Kyle?” That was the name of Amber’s boyfriend. “He’s got perfect timing.”

She shot Mark a glare and began packing her things. “This isn’t over,” she warned.

“Sure, sure.”

Amber sent you an apologetic look. “He’s already a few minutes away, I–”

“It’s fine. We’re already done, anyway.”

She nodded, glared at Mark again, and hurried out of her seat.

You waited for Amber to disappear through the wooden door before looking at Mark, who wasted no time filling the empty chair.

He wore a black long-sleeved top and a pair of ripped jeans. His hair looked darker tonight, it was damp, like he went straight to here after a fresh shower.

You spoke with the system and demanded to know why it didn’t warn you that he was in the area.

The system, who got bored listening to you drone on about the pentose phosphate pathway and decided to read the Kama Sutra (“for research” it claims), had only realized what was happening when Mark Grayson started hitting on you. It could only avert its gaze and whistle in response.

So much for having a nigh-omniscient divine artificial intelligence as an assistant.

Irritated, you turned your attention to the grinning Mark in front of you.

“Why don’t you like eating at cafés?”

“Amber was exaggerating.”

“I see. Well, you can have the whole table. See ya.” It was your turn to start packing.

“Hey, hey, wait, I just got here.”

“So?”

“Ow. At least have dinner first?”

“Mark,” you said, cocking an eyebrow at him, “it’s already twelve in the morning.”

He checked his watch. “Oh.” He looked at you. “Don’t you have, I dunno, notes to digitize or something?”

“No.” You were already on your feet. “Tonight was reserved for tuto–” you caught yourself, “–for studying with Amber. With her gone, all that’s left to do is go home and get some rest.”

His shoulders fell.

Your heart tinged with something akin to guilt. Building a relationship with him is important, but you were expecting a sugar crash any minute now, one that will definitely make you lose affinity points.

However…

A sad pretty boy was hard to ignore.

The system started eating popcorn. Its older colleagues claimed that popcorn tasted best when witnessing drama. Watching its Host struggle with emotions brought it inexplicable bliss.

It played a melancholic violin and used its holographic ability to project dog ears onto Mark’s head.

[What are you going to do now, Host? Are you planning on turning your back on such a handsome, crying face?]

Clicking your tongue, you sat back down, prompting Mark to look up.

You crossed your arms and asked, “Is the yogurt parfait here any good?”

He tilted his head.

“Yeah,” he replied, confused.

You refused to meet his gaze.

His peach lips then parted into a bright smile. “One parfait coming up.”

[Ding. Affection: 29%. Darkening: 6%.]

The system spat out its popcorn and rolled around laughing with its hypothetical body.

Mark was not beating the masochist allegations in your mind.

[Technically, Host, I think it would be more appropriate to call him a submissive.]

Who cares?!

You exhaled.

Hey…

[Yes, Host?]

Does he look sad to you tonight?

[His facial expressions and body language haven’t changed much so to me he is the same as usual. What would make you think otherwise?]

Just a feeling, you thought, watching his back as he leaned closer to the cashier, likely flirting again.

[Is the Host jealous?]

You scoffed.

Why would I be jealous? He flirts with everyone.

[If you say so.]

You could feel the little brat smirking. If it had a physical body you would very much like to chuck it to the nearest garbage can, or maybe an open fire.

While you were in the middle of conjuring the best way to execute your system, Mark returned with a large yogurt parfait.

“Your midnight snack, madam.”

“Ew.” The hair on your neck stood at the title. “Never call me that again.” You would rather he call you–

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Tsk.

[Pft.]

Mark swiped several tissue papers from the dispenser on the table and wiped the parfait spoon before handing it over.

When you reached to take it, your fingers grazed his. It was brief, barely a feather’s touch, but it sent warmth up your arm and to your chest.

[Affection: 30%.]

You decided to focus on eating your parfait.

Mark had a similar idea, preferring to eat his egg sandwich without making a peep.

The silence between you was filled by the faint cacophony of students typing on their laptops and scribbling on their tablets, the clinking of metal and ceramic and glass, and an instrumental rendition of Blues in the Night.

Barring the circumstances that brought you here, this was nice. If you ever found someone before you had died, would you have spent your free time with him in a coffee place like this one?

In life, the closest you’ve ever been to romance were books and dating sims, and those things have irreversibly warped your standards.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Mark broke the silence, dipping the rest of the bread in his coffee.

You wanted to snap and tell him that you were too exhausted to think, that he should’ve just taken his order to-go or eat alone like a grownup, but you don’t.

You snuck a glimpse of him. Dark circles haunted his . He seemed paler, too.

“I was just thinking about what constitutes an ideal date.”

His face brightened. “Are you finally going to let me peek into that brilliant brain of yours?”

“I’m not brilliant.”

“Amber would beg to differ, and so would Professor Harper.”

“Amber?” You understood Professor Harper, but why Amber?

“Yeah, she talks about you a lot, says you’re really smart.”

“You talk about me?”

“Sometimes.”

“With Amber?”

His grin turned wicked. “Jealous?”

You could hear the system restraining its amusement.

You ignored the ticking in your eye and took a big scoop of parfait. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

He reclined on his seat. “Got any questions for me? Besides Amber, I mean.” Great, now he was laughing at you. Excellent.

“I have nothing to say to you.” You had a lot, actually. You wanted to know about his mom, his missing dad, whether or not he has met Eve. You wanted to be done with this mission world. You wanted to be done with all of this.

“Are you sure?”

You paused. “Actually, I do have a question. Did you finish reading that book?”

Brown widened with surprise, then they twinkled. “‘That book’? Sweetheart, what do you take me for? I finished Professor Harper’s entire reading list.”

Your jaw slacked. “That… is impressive.” Although maybe the reading was to compensate considering how he’s been missing class the past week.

He made a hair flipping motion. “I know. Brains, beauty–is there anything I can’t do?”

“Eat alone in a coffee shop, apparently.”

He chuckled dryly.

[Ding. Affection: 27%. Darkening: 6.3%.]

You inhaled too fast and the slender spoon got sucked inside your throat. Both hands flew over your neck as you squawked out for help.

[Host!!]

Mark vanished from across the table and was instantly by your side. He bent you forward and struck you between the shoulder blades once, twice–

The spoon shot out of you and bounced three times on the table.

Mark’s voice came out softly, “You okay?”

Before you could answer, the whole floor applauded.

Blood rushed to your cheeks and you became hyper-aware of the protective palm on your back.

You looked up and saw his eyes overflowing with concern.

“Princess?”

You felt like throwing up.

***

Good news: You didn’t throw up. You apologized to the staff and promptly left.

Bad news: Mark followed you out.

“I’m walking you home.” There was no room for negotiation in his tone as he took your bag from you. You reluctantly let him because you had a feeling that any protesting wouldn’t have stopped him from trailing after you.

It’s not like you didn’t appreciate the offer. After all, it doesn’t matter how prestigious a university is, there is always a chance of getting attacked on campus property. But after your little scene, you truly wanted to be alone, as in, may the ground crack open and swallow me whole alone.

But now he was with you, and he hasn’t spoken a word since you two left The Mug. Silence was nothing new between you and Mark, in fact, what you liked about him besides his uncontested physical appearance was the fact that he also enjoyed quiet moments when they were there.

That being said, you weren’t sure whether you preferred this… this soundless noise over his endless teasing.

When two people get into an argument and one of them leaves to cool off and then gets hit by a car, that’s an accident. The two people are innocent, they shouldn’t feel shame–but the one who didn’t leave the house to cool off is still going to somehow blame themselves.

Logically, you understood that there was nothing wrong with what happened. It was an accident. But reason alone cannot stop emotion.

“Mark,” you said, still looking forward as you walked.

“Yeah?”

Your mouth opened and closed, and opened and closed. You regretted saying his name. It hung in the air and now the silence grew louder.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His lips were twitching.

Son of a–

You planted your feet on the ground, prompting him to stop walking too. “You’re laughing? You’re actually laughing?”

To his credit, Mark actually tried to keep his poker face for a little longer. His tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek until he couldn’t contain himself.

“Pft–”

[Pfft–]

Two very different beings from two very different planes of existence united together in a chorus of wild belly laughter.

You missed the quiet already.

“It’s not that funny,” you mumbled, feeling hot.

“I’m sorry–I–I’m sorry but it is.”

[He’s right, Host, it was quite the sight. If he didn’t save you in time your death might have been nominated for an award.]

The system nodded to itself, pleased. It knew its Host had potential! Unintentional death by spoon would have been one for the books.

You waited for Mark to calm down into mere huffing. “Are you done?”

He wiped a tear and stood up straight. “There’s never a dull moment when you’re around, princess.”

“Wow. Thanks. That almost sounds like a compliment.”

“It is one. I’ll keep giving you compliments until you can tell immediately.”

“That won’t be necessary.” You continued walking. “Let’s go.”

You didn’t have to look to know that his gaze was on you. You had a hunch he was smirking too.

It was annoying how fixated he could get with you, but you tolerated it better now. Dare you say, you even enjoyed the attention, though you would sooner stab your own hand than admit that to him or anybody else.

The system, who realized its Host is not immune to human romantic feelings: (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

Not. A. Word.

[Whatever you say, Host.]

You yearned for the sweet embrace of your bed, so upon reaching your building, you grabbed the straps of your backpack and swiped it away from Mark. “Thanks for walking me.”

“You know, I’d be happier to hear that if you didn’t sound like a robot.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’ll store that information for future assessment. This robot will not keep you any longer–”

His fingers wrapped around your wrist weakly.

You were about to give him what for when he stated, “I play bass in a band.”

Oh, yeah. “Indigo Muse, right?”

His next sentences came in rapid succession. “We got a gig this Saturday, at a club called Wisteria, and I know you hate concerts but I’d really like it if you came and watched us.”

Brown eyes pleading, his smirk was nowhere to be found. This was unlike the confident man you’ve come to know.

He was desperate, bordering on pathetic.

It was…heh…cute.

The system froze.

Mark watched your reaction, but your face was unreadable.

“It’s an open invite, you don’t have to–”

“I’ll go.” You squeezed his hand. “Just email me the details.”

Recovering from surprise, he also recovered his smirk. “Who uses email?”

“It’s easier for us robots to keep track of information with email than text message.”

You let go before he did, fingers sliding past each other, unwilling to part.

“Good night, Mark.”

You turned on your heels. “Don’t forget that email. I’m not going anywhere unless I’m sure about the dress code.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You didn’t have any energy left to correct him.

[Ding. Affection: 32%. Darkening: 6.3%.]

It wasn’t until you managed to trudge back to your unit and fell on the mattress did the system speak up.

[Host, I would like to apologize.]

For what?

[It would seem my putting dog ears on a sad Mark Grayson has awakened something in you.]

taglist: @weponxwrites @ratkidcalledallie @qxuanii @lilacoaks @gluttonousriceflour @phisen

Disclaimer: The images used in this post do not belong to writerclaire. They were lifted from the following sources:

Invincible flying

Alternate Invincibles

CHAPTER 6: Square Root of a^2+b^2 Series Masterlist

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

MAIN MASTERLIST

Any questions for the author? Ask here.

#mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #imagines #y/n #mark grayson #invincible #reader #invincible x y/n #angst #fluff #humor #vcs #villain creation system #fem reader #qt #quick transmigration #isekai #system

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winterzsurprise · 10 months ago

Text

Change My Mind [3]: FRI(END)S

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 9.3k

ao3 is down so I'll update it first here. Chapter got delayed since this wasn't originally part of the roster. its currently 1am so there will be mistakes I missed but that's for future Winter's problem.

edit 03/05/25: added a couple paragraphs and changed a few dialogues

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

For a guy with his heart on his sleeves and his emotions displayed so loudly on his face like neon signs with gigantic arrows, Taehyung is an enigma.

It didn’t help that he had experience in acting, if anything it made it harder to understand him.

One moment he's supportive of your quest for a perfect husband then another, he's raging with a jealousy even the power of the thousand burning suns couldn't replicate. Even when Guwon has long disappeared, Taehyung didn't stop from hanging off of your arm when the three of you had entered your home.

In the short time they had stayed over, he made sure he was somehow close to you or having you within his sight while Jimin returned to being the sweet boy he had always presented himself as but the glint of something dark in his eyes never disappeared.

But it didn't make any sense. All of their behaviors, even Jimin, is confusing.

Taehyung had introduced a date to the group before, and had hooked up with a few people from the after-parties if the others’ words were anything to go by. Jimin is the same, although he took every chance to flirt with you at any time and everywhere, you always thought it was him being his playful self. But after last night?

You don't know.

And you hate not knowing.

To find out that Jin still liked you was shocking already, then comes this new realization—along with the impacts of Jungkook’s confession—to knock you off of your feet. You thought he had moved on like he had said years before, but last night's conversation had told you otherwise.

“That's the tenth time I've heard you sigh just this hour alone and we're only drinking coffee, what’s wrong?”

Your head shot up to meet the concerned gaze of the oldest make-up artist. Jihae is one of the original staff back from 2013, the woman who had picked you up when you tripped in front of the BigHit building crying with your bag spilled out, having been given a low grade in one of your subjects.

They were lacking in staff back then, urgently searching for another body to help with the debut look and when she saw your cosmetic bag, she tugged you inside and told you to agree with whatever they were going to ask.

Stunned, you followed the woman without question.

A month later, you dropped out of the nursing course your mother had insisted you take and pursued cosmetology.

Many times have you looked back at the memory and grimaced. It could've gone wrong, she might've been leading you into a trafficking ring but nonetheless, you're glad you had accepted it.

All because Jihae had seen you with mascara-stained tears and somehow deemed you skilled enough for the job. Up until today, you still wonder what she had seen in an emotional teenager who had comically tripped face-first in the company’s front yard, mascara running down her face and thought: ‘She’d be a good addition’ .

Whatever it is, you're thankful.

“Hey, you still with us?”

Snapping out of your trance, you wearily smiled at her. “I am, don’t worry. Just frustrated about something...”

At this, multiple heads turned to you, their stares a varying mix of curiosity and teasing. Suddenly reminded of the group lunch Jihae had proposed that day, a bonding exercise for the entire make-up artists roster, for better teamwork, she had said and internally facepalmed. You had forgotten that it wasn't just your friends sitting on the table with you and you had just aired your problem out in the open for them to hear.

Fuck Kim Taehyung and his confusing attitude. You should beat his ass next time you see him for being the catalyst to the dilemma haunting your mind.

Leaning closer to you, Nabi—another friend of yours—crossed her arms and flashed a shit-eating grin.

“Is it boy problems?”

Instantly, the table explodes into chatters, all of their questions drowning each other.

“Which one of them?”

“Did someone from Bangtan confess to you, unnie?”

“Is it Hoseok? Please say it is! I have a bet with someone from the hair styling department.”

“Was it Taehyung? I always thought he had a crush on you for a whi—”

“It's not any of them, please we're just friends.” You interjected before they dig further and find truth in their questions. “It's a different guy I've had two dates with.”

Never had you sounded more unsure of yourself until now and you had wished nobody had noticed. But one look around the table says differently. Your friends’ eyes glinted, all of them telling you that this discussion was far from over and you find yourself already dreading opening the groupchat once you're home. But unlike them, someone wasn't satisfied with your answer and crossed her arms from the other end of the table.

“Why so dismissive, unnie? We're all friends here, no need to be so defensive.”

Immediately, the ones closest to her snapped their heads at her with a scandalized look. Alexa was a new recruit, A half-Korean and half-Chinese who lived in the States for a better half of her life, had just joined the week before the first leg when one of the crew went into labor and had recommended her cousin as her last minute replacement until she could return.

In the short time she had been in the company, there had been whispers and none of them were positive. Rumors of an unhealthy obsession hidden beneath the skillfully applied make-up that granted her a younger and cuter appearance, hushed stories of their encounters where she'd reveal her soulmate mark—inked initials, and written on her wrist is a K.S.J, something she boasted around with a smug look, as if to imply something you refuse to entertain.

It was absurd.

Seokjin was untethered, if he got a soulmate mark out in the open, he would've screamed it on top of the world. Delighted and in cloud nine at the thought of having someone destined for him. Not to mention, it meant that he didn't need to go through any of the shit you've gone through, going through dates after dates looking for someone better to settle down with only to be met with constant disappointment at the end of the day.

(You'd also be the first to know. He would've ran to you and asked if you manifested a mark too, but for your sanity, you pushed the thought at the back of your head as soon as it came.)

To say, to imply that Seokjin’s soulmate is the kid on the side of the table, it almost made you grimace.

“Hey Alexa, I know you're just new and a foreigner but that doesn't mean we'd let you disrespect your seniors!” Minhyuk, someone who had quickly wormed into your friend group last year, had jumped to your defense.

Alexa scoffed. “I'm just saying, no need to be so secretive, unnie. Everyone in this table knows how close Bangtan is to you. Everyone is wondering if you've at least dated one of them.”

“Hey Alexa, that's a bit…”

“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I'm just saying what you're all thinking,” She looks back at you. “I've seen how they look at you, surely you've at least had a fling with someone.”

Your brows shot up, incredulous and shocked by her audacity but before you could bite back, Minhyuk stood abruptly, face darkened with pure unadulterated anger.

“Oh this—” Nabi and you were quick to tug him back down to sit.

At the commotion, everyone in the cafeteria shifted their attention to your table, inquisitive and curious of what might've set off the resident social butterfly, someone who everyone knows the name of and has been at the end of his constant kindness.

Minhyuk is a passionate soul, especially towards his job and friends. Having been kicked out for being himself, he turned to the very skill that had his father screaming expletives at him. Recommended by Jihae, who had been visiting a nearby friend at the time and was passing by his street, had found him crying in the rain, outside the gate of his family house. She had taken him home and the rest was history.

There's never been a time when you've all hung out, five emptied bottles of Sojus later, where he wouldn't be crying, thankful for the chance your eldest had given him before turning to you, sobbing loudly and hugging you and the rest of the group in a tight grip. Heart full of gratefulness for his new found family.

So there was no shock that he had been the first one to jump at the first sign of aggression towards your group.

“Everyone is looking, hyuk. Let's calm down.” Nabi whispered to him, eyes cautious and Minhyuk grunted.

“She's lucky we're in public, I would've torn her down for that comment.”

At the end of the table, Alexa scoffed, incredulous. “Are you seriously mad that I'm saying my opinion? Is it a crime to express their own opinion these days?”

“Not when it's as rude as yours.”

Jihae sighs. “Calm down the both of you. Remember that you're working right now.”

You didn't doubt that everyone in the company has speculated about your relationship with Bangtan. It's hard not to when the maknaes hang onto your words and comfortably play around with you, especially not when you have dinner at their dorm every other week so you didn't blame the newbie for being curious.

That's what you would've felt if she hadn't been going around planting ideas into people's heads that she might be Jin’s soulmate like the delusional slug she is.

You had half a mind to loosen your grip on Minhyuk and let him wipe the floor with her unnecessarily expensive work clothes.

Shrugging both your and Nabi’s arms from his, Minhyuk stands up again only to walk away from the table. Instantly, the rest of your group follows him as he marches through the gathered crowd in the cafeteria and in front of the closed elevator.

You trailed behind him, waiting for his eventual frustrated explosion as he always does after an encounter with Alexa since she was hired. Once you were all far enough, hidden away from the prying eyes of the public, he threw his head back and let out a loud, exasperated groan.

“That girl I fucking swear!” He growled as combed his long hair back. “Why did we even let her continue working after the tour?! We could've just found a better alternative, she's getting into my fucking nerves!”

Nabi sighed. “It's not like we have a final say in this, hyuk. Whether you like it or not, we'll be stuck with her until Hyuna comes back.”

“God,” He groaned. “You should've let me hit her once! I'm so tired of hearing her bullshit! Surely, you've heard the lie she's spreading around right?!”

“Like Nabi has said, we can't do anything unless it starts to hurt the reputation of the idol. She's smart for not saying it outright and somehow containing it within the styling departments.” Jihae responds with a defeated shake of her head.

The answer didn't satisfy Minhyuk, who then turned to you with a pout and wide puppy eyes before promptly stomping over and taking both your hands in his.

“Surely you can pull some strings, noona? Tattle off to Namjoon hyung or Seokjin hyung, surely one of them would do something, right?”

You almost considered his suggestion. Alexa had been grating your gears ever since she arrived to replace Hyuna. You had excused her lack of cooperation with the team for being a newbie and clumsy mistakes of haphazardly leaving her items everywhere for the stress of the new environment she was suddenly put in. But for her to go around implying Seokjin is her soulmate is another can of worms you didn't even want to open.

The mere thought of her existing on the same floor as Seokjin invokes an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach.

But unfortunately, even if you had tattled to Namjoon about her, nothing would happen since it's not too drastic of an event to fire someone over for. It's also just not a good idea overall. The tour is set next Wednesday and while Alexa doesn't cooperate with most of the team, she unfortunately got the skill to back her up. Her skills nearly compensate for her rude personality.

Almost.

“They won't fire someone over a small argument, Hyuk. Just suck it in until Hyuna returns.”

“Which will be in December after Japan,” He mulls it over before shaking his head. “Yeah no, I don't think I can tolerate her nasty ass that long.”

The elevator opens—Jihae had called it the moment they've arrived, bless her—and everyone piles in. It was a quick ride, the stylists being on the floor below the cafeteria. In a flash the metal doors parts opened and you all walked out. But before you could follow your friends back into your department, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

Slowing down, you pulled the device out and looked at who's texting you.

[13:02] Hobi: can ask you a favor

[13:02] Hobi: just an itsy bitsy favor 🤏🤏

[13:02] Hobi: I promise it's harmless😁

There's also a text from Guwon not too long ago. Something you missed while you were lost in your thoughts earlier.

[12:30] Guwon: Eat your lunch soon! [13:03] You: hi sorry late reply, I was having lunch with my co-workers, couldn’t use my phone during. [13:03] You: I hope your lunch was good😁

You briefly grimaced at how robotic your reply sounded before returning to Hoseok who had sent another text.

[13:03] Hobi: don't leave me on seen please😢 [13:03] Hobi: noona noona noona noona noona [13:04] You: hoba hoba hoba hoba hoba [13:04] Hobi: YAY [13:04] You: how can I help you? [13:05] Hobi: can you deliver lunch to hyung?😁 [13:05] Hobi: I would do it myself but I'm currently helping Seokjin hyung and Namjoon with the dance [13:06] Hobi: and we both know Yoongi hyung wouldn't eat on time if I do it [13:06] Hobi: can you do it for me?🥺 [13:06] You: sure, you guys still in the dance practice room? [13:07] Hobi: ur a life saver [13:07] Hobi: an angel in disguise [13:07] Hobi: but yes😁 [13:08] Hobi: just knock on the door when you're here😁

“Y/N?” Jihae asks and you look back up to see your group waiting for you.

“Who is it?” Nabi adds.

“Better be news of Alexa getting fired. If not, I don't want to hear it.” Minhyuk says as he crosses his arms. You shook your head and he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Got asked to help with something but I'll be back in a moment.”

With a brief goodbye, you turned back to the elevator and directed yourself to the floor where the dance practice rooms are at.

The walking distance from the elevator is not too far from the dance room but seeing five familiar teenage boys speaking in hushed whispers and hitting each other's arms in front of the vending machine just a feet away from the door easily distracted you.

If they had been crowding around the machine, you would've thought they were fighting over the last snack but instead they were all facing the same direction as your destination.

Sneaking up to the five giants, you're slowly introduced to the dilemma they were hitting and pushing each other for.

“You're the oldest, you should go and knock!”

“Just because I'm the oldest doesn't mean I should always be the first! Why are you even ordering me around?! Go ask Huening Kai instead!”

“Why me? I can't talk in Korean, I-I’m foreigner .”

“Oh don't you pull that shit on us. How are you only a foreigner when it matters?!”

“What are we talking about?”

Three shrill screams pierced through the air as the five of them jumped back, awkwardly long bodies falling against and clutching onto each other for dear life, all of them huddling onto the next body for protection. But once they recognize you, Yeonjun immediately regains composure and breaks off from the cluster to stomp over to you with his bottom lip jut out as he dramatically latches onto your arm.

“Noonaa, why would you scare us like that?!”

When you first met Yeonjun, he was standing in front of the cafeteria bar in front of the exhausted cashier and the long irritated line of workers, peering up onto the menu before looking down to count his money. He looked like a little kid lost in the sea of busy adults, painfully alone and helpless as the hungry customers behind him began to complain loudly.

He had been holding up the line as he recounted his change once more, hoping he had miscounted and that he could afford what he was eyeing. Seeing his hopeful expression crumble into defeat was enough to make you approach him and buy him lunch.

Yoongi had teased you when he saw another kid trailing behind you like a baby duckling, saying you were collecting every doe eyed kid in the company and becoming their reliable older sister. The rest laughed when they saw Yeonjun’s soulmates follow suit.

“What were you guys doing? Fighting against who gets the last chip?”

Beomgyu then ran to wrap his arms around yours, the sweetest and most innocent smile plastered on his face as the two boys began to walk you forward, the destination? The dance studio.

“You know that we love you right, noona?”

Why these kids are genuinely intimidated by your sweet Hoba is beyond you. The man screams and flinches at the smallest of bugs daring to exist two feet away from him. Still, you entertained them with a raise of an eyebrow and Yeonjun continued.

“Our favorite make-up noona, the greatest sister figure we have ever had, my savior and my salvation, our dearest credit card—”

“Okay, what do you guys want?”

You all stopped in front of the dance room door. IDOL was blasting on the other side of the wall, the floor vibrating with the beat. Although muffled, you could pick up the sound of shoes squeaking against the floor and heavy footsteps accompanying the song.

“Could you pretty please knock on the door?” Beomgyu asks, pleading and also hopeful and the rest of his brothers chimed from behind you with their own versions of the request which ended up sounding like a bunch of warbled words and shooting you puppy eyes.

“Couldn't you have done that yourselves?”

“But they're busy and J-Hope sunbae is scary.” Taehyun quietly adds behind you.

“Hoba? He's the sweetest though?”

“Okay, let's not lie to ourselves now,” Huening Kai shoots back before motioning to the door. “Just… knock and we'll handle it from there. We promise!”

“Cross our hearts.” Taehyun says, drawing a cross over his chest. The other four follow.

Dance teacher Hoseok to you is a hoax. You've never been subjected to his intense scrutiny and harsh perfectionist side, always managing to slip past or only being able to meet him outside of the workplace where he'd be far relaxed and cheerful.

Sure there's been plenty of photographic and recorded evidence posted in the group chat but you still find it hard to believe he's more frightening than the bugs that scare him off the room.

“He's not that scary, guys.”

Taehyun scoffs. “Easy for you to say.”

“Crush privileges.” Soobin quietly adds.

“What—”

The door swings open before you could ask what he meant and Jungkook steps out of the room.

In a span of a second, the memories of his drunken confession flashed before your eyes. From the moment he had entered your home with bags of snacks to the way his voice had sounded, hushed and shaky, when he asked you for a kiss.

Seeing him again outside the concert where Namjoon and Yoongi had made sure there were no contacts between the two of you, evoked a weird sense of longing within you. Having absolutely no contact with Jungkook for two days had you missing and recollecting your past memories with him. In the short amount of time you've been away, you wondered about many things.

From something as headache-inducing variations of hows and whys questioning his attraction to you to something more simple and short like ‘how is he feeling right now?’.

It was a dumb question with an obvious answer yet you wanted to know. Curiosity and anxiety clawing at your chest.

Is your friendship still okay?

Did rejecting someone this time finally ruin your entire dynamic with the group?

Should you have chosen someone like your sister had told you to do?

They have plagued your mind and haunted you in your waking days yet the moment you finally see him, your mouth dries up and your voice dies in your throat.

But before you could even muster the courage to talk to him, he turned his attention to the boys who had retreated behind you the moment the door opened and greeted them with a short bow before walking away, completely ignoring you. Pain blooms in your chest like a thorned vine wrapping and strangling your heart tighter and tighter as you watch his back disappear around the corner.

“Did sunbae just ignore noona?”

“Is that even possible?”

“I didn't hallucinate that, right?”

“Noona, are you okay?” Soobin’s concerned voice, soft and cautious, brings you back to reality and you turn to them, a precariously built smile on your face.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The five stared at you with uncertainty before sharing a look as you stepped into the studio, exposing you to the two figures laid on the floor, heaving and panting. The main character of your thoughts was sitting at the far corner next to the black plastic table while Hoseok stood in the middle of the room, unaffected by whatever had happened and was chugging down the water from the small bottle in his hand.

As if he had grown a sixth sense for you, he suddenly spun around, a wide grin brightening his stern face.

“Noona!”

At this, the two men on the floor perks up. Namjoon merely waves before promptly dropping back down, Jimin and Taehyung only smiled at you, looking spent from whatever routine Hoseok had them do before turning to the two tallest. Seokjin had pushed himself up to stand and approach the black plastic table from the other end of the room where a dozen take outs were.

As Hoseok approached you, his gaze then found the cluster of five heads peeking through the sides of the entrance and laughed.

“You’ve got five ducklings following you. Did they ask you to knock on the door for them or did you buy them ice cream again?” He jokes before turning to the teens and waving them over. The group then spread to occupy the space in the doorway and bowed. “What can I do for you guys?”

They suddenly disappear behind the wall but you hear them hitting each other and their whispered-shouts, it took a long while before Soobin was pushed out of the shadow and forced to talk to their sunbae. The painfully shy teen shuffles over, shoulders folded forward and taking the smallest of steps forward before stuttering a bow.

A wide smile brightens Hoseok's face, endeared by the boy’s actions.

“H-Hi sunbae.”

“Hello, Soobinie.”

“We-we we're just wondering if we-we could watch you guys? Practicing dancing I mean—Not that you sunbaes need it cause you're professionals!—I mean of course you still need to practice to be better at dancing and—wait no—”

“ Yah Soobin, stop embarrassing us like this!” Yeonjun scolds from behind and immediately, the young leader snapped his head at him, almost breaking his neck from how fast he had whipped around.

“Then go do it yourself!”

“We don't mind, as long as you guys stay in a corner like good kids then we'll all be good!” Hoseok cuts in before an argument ensues.

There's a tap on your shoulder and you turn around to see Seokjin standing behind you, a gentle smile playing on his plush lips, both hands hidden behind him.

There's an awkwardness that hung in the air as the conversation from the night before echoed between you both as you gazed into each other's eyes before he cleared his throat and began.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes.” You lie. Jin caught it and he rolled his eyes.

Turning to face him fully, he then takes one of your hands and forces your fingers to hold the neatly folded top of a paper takeout bag.

“I've packed Yoongi’s portion here as well as an extra for you—”

“You didn't need to, Jinnie. I already ate.”

Ignoring your words, he continued. “—I even had them order some soft tofu soup, you were craving it last week, right?”

It was sweet being loved so selflessly by him. It tasted like the sweetest nectar from the garden of Eden with a foul aftertaste once your mind reminded you of your sins against the man and the thorned tendrils of guilt coiled tighter around your chest, its sourness easily overlapping the sweetness of his love.

After Jungkook pretending you didn't exist earlier, having Jin, someone who you didn't even know still admired you all these years while you had messed around with many faces and came to work with some of their marks on your skin, expressing his care had you almost bursting at the seams.

It enrages you thinking about Alexa going around spreading her bullshit spiel about being Jin’s soulmate. As if she deserved a morsel of his attention.

Nobody deserves Seokjin, not even you.

“Thank you Jinnie, but I’m really fine.” You then remembered your promise to return to your friends soon. “And Jihae is expecting me back immediately.”

“Coffee and toast is not lunch.” He deadpans as he takes your hand and forces it to close around the pack. “Just eat it with Yoongi, he'd be happy to be able to eat with someone and I’ll handle Jihae noona.”

“How the hell did you know what I had for lunch?”

Shock crossed over his face and he brought a hand over his mouth. “I was right? I just had a hunch on what you ate.”

“That’s a bit creepy, old man.”

“Maybe it’s a soulmate mark manifesting.” He shrugs but you doubt he meant it in a joking way.

“You’re way past the age, give it up hyung.”

You both turned to the door at Jungkook’s voice. Like earlier, he had strode in without acknowledging your presence, something Seokjin had noticed immediately. His eyes slid to the five boys tentatively pushing each other to the empty corner of the studio before looking back at their youngest.

“How could you insult me like this? I fed you with my hands, you should be addressing me formally with a full 90° bow!”

“I should’ve bitten your fingers at least once back then.” Jungkook jokingly muses.

Before you could witness their banter explode, there’s a tug on your shirt and you spun around to face Hoseok who had nodded his head to the door. Jin had already marched towards the maknae before you could even thank him so you left.

Once you were both outside the studio, Hoseok closed the door behind and hugged you.

“Wh-what is this?”

“A thank you hug for being the sacrifice and feeding the grumpy dragon instead.” He says with a laugh but you knew what he was trying to do.

Returning the hug, you replied. “I’m fine, Hoba. I didn’t expect us to be buddy buddy again after what happened.”

He sighed.

“He still shouldn’t have done that. I’m sure Seokjin hyung will talk to him about it later.”

Stepping back, you shook your head. “No need, I understand why he’s acting like that.”

His eyes regarded your face for a moment before pulling you back in for a hug and nuzzling his head on top of yours. “You don’t have to defend him noona, he’s acting like a child. It's our duty as his hyungs to fix that up.”

“Please don’t. It feels like you’re taking sides, he might think it's unfair.”

He laughs. “Are you kidding? ‘Cause from what I’m seeing, he’s being a petulant child. He should handle the rejection with more grace when it's his fault he’s in this predicament. You know Seokjin hyung warned him, right?”

“Yeah, he told me when he and Tae took him home.”

“Then you should know better than to defend him.” You opened your mouth to refute but he pressed a finger to your lips. “Don't start. He's not the same sixteen years old we had to raise back then, he needs correcting.”

With two hands on your shoulders, he then spun you around and began to push you towards the elevator, leaving no room for an argument.

Once he had led you back to the locomotive, he briefly stepped in to push the correct button for the production floor and stepped back and waved as the elevator wall slowly closed to a shut.

“Now go feed hyung and yourself before you go back to work. Thank you again noona and see you later."

__________

“Special delivery for a grumpy hairless cat!”

A beat.

Then came a grumbled: “Come in.”

Punching the proper strings of numbers on the door code, you open the door to the genius lab to find Yoongi sitting in front of his computer, one ear off of his headphones as he goes back to a specific second again and again.

Situating yourself on the couch next to the door, you place the paper bag on the coffee table and slowly unload all its contents, hoping its smell is enough to deter him from his work just for a second.

Taking one of the containers, you open it to see strips of savory beef generously sprinkled on top of rice. The savory smell of the dish wafting out almost immediately, and Yoongi visibly perks up from his table; if perking up meant him temporarily stopping his incessant clicking and head tilting a little to the side.

“Is it all meat?”

Placing down the container, you opened the other one to reveal the same dish except this time with fried rice.

“Yeah, you want fried rice or no?”

“Whatever you like less.” He grumbled as he returned to his work.

“That's not a proper answer.”

“Just take whatever you want, I like either.” He muttered.

Staring at the food on the table, you found yourself at a crossroads. The fried rice looks more appetizing than the plain white rice on the other container but you've had enough sodium for the week, having challenged Taehyung, Jimin and Jin to who can eat more ramyeon in one sitting the day before the concert.

But today just doesn't feel like a plain rice type of day.

But fried rice isn't healthy.

“Just choose please, I don't know what I want either.” You groaned out, frustrated.

With a grunt, the man took off his headphones and turned to face you before maneuvering himself closer to the table and picking up the container with the plain rice.

“Stop thinking so much about what is healthy or not,” He remarked as he took a pair of chopsticks from the paper bag. “I could hear your thoughts even with my headphones on and my back turned.”

“Then why tell me to choose if you already knew?”

Yoongi only shrugged as he took his first bite, prompting you to take yours. He seems to mull over something as he chews, staring at the food on the table for a while before placing the container down and leaving the room without a word.

You had learned not to question his confusing actions throughout the years, even then you couldn't help but be bewildered.

When he returned, he was carrying two drinks in one hand. Sprite and Kombucha. Settling back on his chair, he placed down the bottle of Kombucha in front of him before opening the can of sprite and placing it in front of you.

“I don't have any straws on me so you'll have to just chug it.”

People don't usually notice it but you think Jin and Yoongi are more similar in how they show their affections, just in different volumes. Seokjin’s care is always voiced out, always asking whether you want something or not and offering to do or make it for you while Yoongi just somehow always knows what you want and does it wordlessly. Both of them are providers who’d go as far as to pick the stars for you if you so wished.

If you had asked them for something as ludicrous and impossible as fried cotton candy with melted cheese on top, Jin would complain and express his disgust openly, ranting about the strenuous process while holding the handle of the pan and a spatula in the other while Yoongi would cook it without questioning your sanity.

Either way, it never fails to make your chest warm.

“Thank you, Yoongs.”

He suddenly takes a huge bite, bringing the container close to his face before humming out his response, easily flustered as ever.

You both eat your food in silence. With years of friendship under your belt, you have learned to enjoy the serenity Yoongi’s silence brings. It had been rough at the start, his quietness matched with his stoic expression had often led to misunderstandings where you often thought he thinks of you badly for being close to his brothers, especially after Jin’s confession.

He had confronted you once he heard it from Namjoon,—who had immediately tattled onto his hyung after you had told him not to tell anyone—saying he simply had problems expressing himself. You could remember how his hands, despite being entangled with each other, shook with his voice, could recall how he had forced himself to hold eye contact with you when he always had difficulties in holding one.

It was thoughtful and that was the first time you had felt the tingles of warmth in your chest. Teenage you had her feet swept off by a stuttering mess of a guy with eye contact issues.

Despite Jin being the first in the group to confess, Yoongi was the first to touch your heart.

“Why are you looking at me like that?’

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

A conflict of emotion crossed his eyes as he struggled to find the words but before he could, your phone vibrated from your pocket.

[13:54] Guwon: I'm at the cafe close to your building

You almost choked on your spit, surprised by his message and Yoongi hurriedly put his food down to pat your back.

Guwon’s office was on the other side of the city, why would he drive so far just to get some coffee with you during work days?

Love , a voice answers and you immediately waved it off.

There was no way he had fallen in love with you in such a short time. You have been on two dates with him and he hadn't even asked you to be his girlfriend when there's been multiple times throughout those days and nights he had the chance to do so.

During nights where you'd restlessly toss around on your bed, you found yourself facing one more problem outside of your friends.

You didn't notice when it started when Guwon began to make your stomach churn and it bothers you to the nines at how you were being suspicious of him.

Guwon is a genuinely nice guy with a legit and grand background from what you learned throughout the short time you've been hanging out, his case stories of helping out women stuck in abusive relationships and bringing justice to those the law has failed once proven true when you've typed his name on Naver. The man didn't deserve the doubt twisting in your stomach nor the aversion you were slowly gaining towards him.

There was just something about him that struck you odd.

Your conflicting feelings surrounding your friends' confessions shouldn't be affecting your relationship with the man you will marry at some point yet it ended up doing so.

There was something foul and bitter simmering in your guts these days whenever you force yourself to think about him during your time. It burns like bile and tasted like betrayal, almost like unfaithfulness ; you try not to think hard on why you feel this way but it's hard not to when Jimin and Taehyung's jealousy keeps flashing behind your eyelids with every blink.

[13:55] You: Oh wow, which one? [13:55] Guwon: The one on the left side, Areum Cafe. [13:55] Guwon: Are you free to get a cup of coffee with me? [13:56] Guwon: Sorry for springing this up on you [13:55] Guwon: I missed you🙁

“Who is it?”

“It's Guwon,” You say, scratching your head. “He says he's at the cafe down the road and wants to meet up.”

Yoongi placed down his food and stared at you, long and hard. Cat-like eyes narrowing and observing you as he leaned back on his chair and sighed.

“I assume you need help getting out? I'm not as… bold as the younger ones but I think I can help… somehow”

His presence would surely help tamper down the discomfort that had bloomed with the recent revelations. Yoongi is intimidating as he is caring, having him next to you while meeting with Guwon would ensure you a shorter time spent with the man, as well as prohibit him from pulling another surprise kiss on you.

But why are you so uncomfortable spending time with Guwon anyways?

You didn't have any problems before, even wanted to sleep with him the night prior so why now?

“How’d you know I need help?”

“You looked like your mother just told you to come to another date.”

Immediately, you ironed out the frown you didn't realize had marred your face.

“I thought you would've been delighted you've finally met your match?”

“I-I am.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, the sound echoing louder in the silence of the room. “Try again. A little more sure this time.”

You sighed and relented, knowing the man wouldn't let you take a step out of the door if you lied to him again.

“Everything just started feeling wrong for some reason.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, eyes widening with surprise. “How so?”

“You know, when Jimin and Taehyung came over last night to make sure I got home safe, they were acting strange towards Guwon.” When he made no move to respond, you continued. “When Guwon suddenly kissed me, Taehyung looked… scary. Jimin too, if you can believe it.”

“I actually do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Yoongi goes silent again, mulling over something as his gaze finally met yours for the first time that day. “For someone so perceptive, you're a bit oblivious.”

“What is it?”

“I won't elaborate, I'll let you realize things on your own.”

You groaned, facepalming because ain't no way Yoongi just added more fuel to the forest fire that is your thoughts. The man doesn’t even look aware of what his words had done, reaching over and innocently sipping on his kombucha once more.

Another chime from your phone and it was Guwon asking once more if you’ll come and meet him. You hold back a frown and Yoongi notices.

“Back to what you were saying, why do you think it felt wrong to see Guwon?”

With his calm voice and the deafening silence of the room, you found yourself comparing Yoongi, who even has his hands folded over his crossed jean-clad legs, to a therapist and laughed.

“Didn’t know I was due for a therapy session when I dropped off your lunch.”

“Well I did, just not with Guwon,” He placed down his bottle. “So, do you need my help or not?”

“Is breathing important? Obviously yes.”

He nods and stands, but not before saying, “I hope you know this conversation is far from over.”

__________

While his presence had given you more peace of mind, leaving the BigHit building with Yoongi—who had forgone his usual outdoor style of beanies and big prescription glasses had only worn a black mask in order to appear more intimidating, claiming the beanie and glasses softens his edges, something you playfully rolled your eyes at—still felt like walking into your doom.

The moment he steps out of the building, suddenly everyone's eyes are on him. The cool stoicness surrounding him commanded attention and the people listened without complaint, not when Yoongi looked like every highschool teenage girls’ bad boy wet dream.

Strolling into the cafe is easier with Yoongi trailing behind you like a guard dog; or in his case, a guard panther.

There's something about having the rapper, who has never shown a hint of romantic attraction to you in all your years being their friend, accompanying you to meet the man you might marry made you feel awkward. It makes your heart jittery and your stomach twisting uncomfortably, the nerves from meeting Guwon only adding fuel to the fire.

It felt improper somehow, as if you were breaking an invisible rule you're yet to uncover from the depths of your soul.

The tempting aroma of freshly baked buttery goods and roasted coffee beans greeted you the moment Yoongi had pushed the door open for the both of you. In the controlled volume of mixed chatters from different tables, a calm acoustic instrumental flies through the air and you almost forgot what you came here for.

It didn't take long for you to find Guwon sitting on the table farthest from the entrance, secluded and away from the wide glass pane windows. When the door had opened with a chime, the man had raised his head from his phone and met your eyes. You try not to linger on how his expression stiffened when he realized you had Yoongi in tow before a smile wipes it away.

“You see him?” Yoongi’s voice grumbled from behind and you nod. Guwon stands, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor catching his attention. “That him?”

“Yeah, I don't think he's happy I brought you with me.”

He chuckled darkly. “Good.”

Good?

Guwon met you both halfway, arms opened wide to greet you with a hug and you let him. When you pull away, his hand casually falls to your waist and your skin scrawls .

Immediately, Yoongi’s eyes drop to look at it but before any hint of emotion breaks onto his face, his cool eyes are already back on your suitor’s face.

“Which one of your kids am I given the pleasure of meeting this time?” Guwon asks before offering his free hand to Yoongi who had taken it with a carefully crafted blank expression and an unrelenting stare.

Seeing him remain in eye contact with Guwon surprises you. The man, even after your years of being friends, had never held eye contact for longer than five seconds outside the time he had opened up to you about his struggle with expressing himself.

It made you curious. Why is he provoking him? Is he testing Guwon?

“I'm not one of her kids, I'm actually older than her. Min Yoongi.”

“Yoo Guwon, a pleasure to meet you.”

Even when both their hands had long pulled away from each other, their eyes lingered longer. Challenging on Guwon's part, and taunting on Yoongi's as he stared back completely unfazed.

Seeing them silently engage in a dick measuring contest, something you didn’t expect Yoongi to ever partake in since he had been loud in his distaste for his own gender, irked you. The tightening grip on your waist didn't help, wanting nothing but to slap it off if it wasn't for your promise to your mother to not fuck this up.

‘If you don't tell them what you're uncomfortable with, then they'll continue on doing it. The other guys out there aren't like us who'd feel guilty if we knew, I fear that they might take advantage of you instead, noona.’ Hobi’s voice echoes in your mind.

Sorry Hoba, I'm trying to make this work. But if this behavior continues, then I'll listen to you.

“I thought you idols are often more busy than the average folk?”

Yoongi sucks air through his teeth before responding. “We were in the middle of a fitting prior. I hope you don't mind me keeping watch, can't have our staff getting distracted by heartthrobs like you.”

Guwon laughed, a little louder than usual.

“She's been telling you guys about me?”

“All the good things, don't worry.” He then turns to you, eyes searching your face for a hint of extreme discomfort before continuing. “I'll go order the others some food.”

Sparing one last nod of his head at the man next to you, Yoongi then turns towards the counter to order. The moment he was out of earshot, dread drops onto your stomach like an anvil and you looked up at the Guwon whose eyes were already trained onto yours, a lazy smile stretched on his lips.

“I assume you’ll be needed back once he’s done?”

“ Yeah, I’m sorry it's just… Wrong timing.”

He waves you off. “Nonsense, it’s my fault for bringing you out of your work. They won’t fine you for this, right?”

“I went with one of my bosses, of course they won’t.”

His eyes studied your face for a moment, searching.

For what? You don’t want to know.

When he had found whatever it was, his face melts into a softer, more mellow expression and your heart clenches. The outpouring of awe in his eyes felt heavy and thick, it clogs up your throat and weighs your already strained form.

“I missed you.” He whispers with the sweetest of voices. “Did you miss me?”

“I-I do, kept thinking about you...”

The lie weighted like lead on your tongue and burned like acid. Compared to the genuineness practically dripping from his lips, your words fall short in your ears. With the way his softened expression crumpled into a frown, you knew he also noticed the hesitance in your voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. With the tour being so close and more sponsorship offers coming in, it got a bit stressful than usual.”

When his arms reach around your shoulders and pull you flush to his chest, you will yourself not to tense. You were both hugging in the middle of the coffee shop and you could feel the nearby patrons’ stare pressing onto your body, judging and unpleasant. Embarrassment burns your cheeks and the desire to push him away grows.

Even Jimin and Taehyung doesn’t dare to get affectionate in public, none of your friends ever did anything more than a hand on your shoulder to lead you to the correct direction or a supportive pat on the back when Jungkook had more sleep and food ingested, and was bouncing off the walls and you just happen to be assigned to him.

You wanted nothing more but to tell him to back off but the words got stuck in your throat.

“Just a tip, she doesn’t like PDA so maybe step away?”

Immediately, Guwon scrambles off of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Guwon says, his hand falling from your shoulder and down to your arm. You tried your best not to shiver, you really do. “I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

A firm and familiar hand lands on your shoulder before Yoongi’s tugging you to stand next to him. There’s a set in jaw as his eyes narrowed down at Guwon, the hand replacing Guwon on your arm is tense and rigid but not enough to hurt. The air around him has sharpened and cooled into icy spikes.

For a moment, you had thought you were being hounded by Taehyung again.

You sensed that he had a lot to say once you were out of sight, all of them expressing his distaste for the man you’re set to eventually marry. Even when you were all standing there, you could already imagine the curses and nitpicked details pouring out of his lips.

“We’ll be going back now,” Yoongi says to Guwon, voice tight as if holding back his emotions as he curtly bowed. “Our leader is already demanding us to come back so we’ll have to cut this meeting short. It was nice meeting you though.”

Guwon looked incredulous at the turn of events, eyes shuttering before he nodded in understanding and turned to flash a smile at you.

“Message me when you’re back at the company, alright?”

Yoongi didn’t even linger long enough for you to respond, already walking away. By the time you turned to look at him, he was already three long gaits away from leaving the coffee shop. With a dip of your head, you sprint to follow closely behind the man now pushing through the door.

You could understand the reason for his irritation, Yoongi was always the most protective out of the bunch and the one with the most to say about men. To see your closest female friend be made uncomfortable by her suitor, a stranger in his eyes, there was no doubt he’d be livid.

But why does he have to walk so damn fast?!

You’re not physically built to match his pace, he takes one step and you have to do three. It was infuriating but you couldn’t exactly scream at him to slow down in public, catching the attention of other people would only create more problems than you both could take on.

He eventually slows down to a halt in front of the double glass doors of the BigHit building and you were able to finally catch up to him. In the lobby, you both calmly approached the elevator, a complete juxtaposition of how hasty you two were not a moment before.

But the moment the metal doors of the elevator shuts, isolating you and Yoongi from the rest, he begins.

“I don’t like him.”

It was stupid but you wanted to know what specific trait he had found irksome.

(Deep down, you knew you were finding a reason to stop, to let go of Guwon and stop this stupid charade.)

“He didn’t even notice you were uncomfortable earlier. When you told us that he’s good, I thought he’d be decent, not top grade bare minimum.”

“H-He was actually good, believe it or not.”

“So he's a pretentious prick?”

You sighed. “H-He just—”

“Hyung wouldn't approve.” Yoongi cuts in, his hardened eyes now piercing through yours, almost taunting you to bite back. “Not just him, everyone wouldn't. You'd break poor Jiminie’s heart if you continued seeing him once he found out how he acted today.”

You knew he was guilt tripping you and it was working. But you swore Guwon was better than the others, he had treated you with a gentleness and care your friends had shown yet something had changed after that night.

Was Taehyung's clinginess, their presence in general, been the catalyst?

Had he felt threatened by them showing up? You had established early on that they're your boss and your mother would've mentioned your relationship with the boys in passing at least, so why would he feel threatened by them?

“I know what you're thinking but it doesn't work like that.” His voice, now softer than it had been earlier, pierces through the trance you’ve submerged into. “Even if you had said you’re only friends with them, it's human nature for us to still feel intimidated even if we're just friends.”

“That's dumb.”

He shrugged. “Men are dumb, I'm just slightly better than the rest.”

“That's debatable.” You joked and he raised an eyebrow.

“ Your taste is questionable.” He shot back and you hit his arm in response, making him laugh but it dissolves as fast as it came. “I'm serious, hyung won't like it if you continue meeting Guwon.”

“I know, I can already hear him and we're not even there yet.”

“Don’t be dumb and break it off with him. If you want a husband so bad, tell auntie to wait for me to renew my contract next year and then I'll marry you.”

He meant it as a joke, you knew that, but you couldn't stop the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering wildly. You're suddenly reminded of a scene from years ago, his alcohol-flushed cheeks pulled taut by the dopey smile stretching his lips wide and his slurred voice admitting something you, even in the present time, have no recollection of what had been uttered.

You both have been battered to the nines, drunken out of your minds and stumbling over the smallest rocks on the street by the time Seokjin and Namjoon had found you halfway home. It was a miracle you both got off unscathed with how giggly and dumbed down you both were.

“Bold of you to assume I'd say yes.”

“I got wealth, I got a good mug on me, I can do all the household chores, what else would you need?”

“Seokjin also got and can do those.”

He pondered long and hard, sucking air through his teeth before he turned to you again with a glint in his eyes.

“You know what they say about my tongue right?”

He couldn’t say he didn’t expect the punch in the arm that followed soon after.

When the elevator door opens and you both go straight for the dance studio, the conversation about Guwon is put on pause and you dread the moment Seokjin hears what had transpired in the coffee shop when suddenly, Yoongi stills and hissed out a curse.

“ Shit , I forgot Jungkook’s muffins.”

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ki-yomii · 1 year ago

Text

like i do | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader

➥ word count | 3.2k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, standing missionary, finger fucking, thigh riding, established relationship, angst w/ a happy ending, possessive!jk, jealous!jk, mentions of infidelity, trust issues

➥ summary | request - Jk being a jealous husband, angst and smuttttt 🥹💘

➥ notes | for lovely anon. hope you enjoy 💚 un-edited, i'll come back and fix any mistakes later. also poor jimin. i love him but i always seem to make him suffer lol.

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

Eavesdropping.

Whether it was a stray conversation in a shop, or lurking around corners to see what others really thought of you, everyone’s done it at some point.

Now, it’s a habit Jungkook tries not to encourage - much preferring upfront interactions and direct conversations - but that isn’t to say he’s never eavesdropped before.

But the problem with listening in on conversations you’re not supposed to be is you run the risk of hearing something you wish you didn’t.

And while it wasn’t intentional by any means - he respects you too much to spy, even if the urge is there - he learns this lesson the hard way.

The first time it happens, he’s in the kitchen refilling his cup of iced coffee. There’s a squeal of surprise followed by a lighthearted giggle, the sound of shuffling limbs and a low grunt.

Everything in him freezes at the sound of your delight, gut churning.

He always works so damn hard to pull the laughter from the depths of your throat. And it stings that Jimin - his friend, his brother’s attempts are effortless.

It’s something so simple, and yet the effect it’s having on him is undeniable as Jungkook white-knuckles the handle of his mug and grits his teeth.

His jaw nearly cracks in two when he hears the softly murmured greeting, “It’s good to see you, baby.”

And Jungkook knows, okay.

He knows there’s nothing romantic between the two of you.

If anything, you’re too alike. Twin flames of the platonic variety. Not only would it never work out, but you both feel nothing but familial towards one another.

For fuck’s sake, Jimin was there when Jungkook proposed. Was the one to encourage it, in fact. Has been nothing but supportive about your relationship even when others disagreed.

However, knowing something doesn’t dampen the spark of jealousy.

Nor does it soothe the sharp flash of hurt threatening to steal the breath from his lungs.

Jimin has always been affectionate with you, and he’s always a touch too flirtatious. It’s a part of who he is, and it’s one Jungkook would never ask him to dim. Jimin spent far too long hiding, pretending, stifling himself for other’s comfort.

And Jungkook loves him as he is, encourages him to be his beautiful, authentic self no matter what. Expect maybe when it comes to his wife… for reasons he’s unwilling to examine.

All schoolyard flirtations aside, what bothers Jungkook most are the pet names. He can put aside his petty jealousy because he knows its unfounded.

What’s harder is dismissing the use of that little four-letter word: baby.

It’s supposed to be his way of telling you how much he loves you. Special, intimate. A stand-in for the four-word phrase he whispers into the silk of your skin, tattoos into your heart with his lips.

The realization he’s sharing a part of you he thought all his own sits bitter on the back of his tongue, an acid burn eating through his throat until he can’t find the words.

When you respond in kind with a soft, tender call a piece of him shrivels.

Standing in the kitchen adrift and lovelorn, Jungkook’s left with an empty longing he can’t name and no where to place it.

You weren’t together for more than six months before he proposed, knowing you were the one for him by the second date.

Maybe he moved too fast, was too receptive?

Growing up, he’d always been eager to move onto the next big thing, ready to jump head first. Some said that would come back to bite him in the ass. Was this the day?

Perhaps you regret saying yes so soon. Jungkook knows he’s not like other people. They need time to settle into their feelings like a house settling old wooden bones.

The last thing he wants is to make you feel trapped, suffocated under the weight of all his clingy, needy problems.

So he smothers the discomfort and walks into the living room. He shoots you a smile and inclines his head towards Jimin.

Thoroughly ignores the pulse of pain when he sees how cozy the two of you look cuddled up on the couch, legs tangled together with Bam at your feet.

That should be me.

You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He can’t lose you.

It’s there he silently vows to be less intense, less attached. Does his best to keep his hands to himself even though he wants to reach across the space between your bodies, and tug you into the cradle of his chest.

Bam picks his head up, cocking his ear to the side when Jungkook winces as Jimin reaches out to tug a lock of your hair, smirking around another purred baby.

Thankfully no one else but the dog notices his moment of weakness or the tension cutting through his shoulders.

Staring at his reflection, Jungkook tucks a lock of hair behind his ear and fiddles with his tie. The three-piece fits like a glove yet he’s never felt more uncomfortable.

He longs for soft cotton and baggy loungewear but tonight is important.

It’s your first year anniversary.

He’s had this night planned out months in advance; pulled all the strings needed to secure a reservation at one of the best five-stars in Gangnam.

You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and your excitement is infectious.

Only Jungkook’s mood sours as soon as he turns the corner to find you on the couch with company, dolled up and radiant. Jimin’s beside you, one leg crossed over the other and swirling a half-empty wine glass.

He says something too low for Jungkook to hear.

“Jimin!” You titter behind your hand, the flash of the jewels on your nails catching the light. “Sto-op! You nasty little freak.”

“What’re you doing here?”

Jungkook doesn’t mean to snap but the inner turmoil spills over before he can shove it down.

Your eyes lose some of their softness, the happiness fizzling from your expression like champagne bubbles. Mouth pinching in at the corners, you narrow your eyes.

A lump grows in his throat.

“What’s got you so pissy, Kook?” you ask.

Jimin clears his throat, averting his gaze to the side as he mindlessly plays with the stem of the glass.

The frosty look Jungkook shoots him withers under your pointed glare. Shoulders sagging, he runs his fingers through his hair, unable to care about how much he’s fucking up the style.

“Sorry Jimin, I… ahem. Anyway, are you gonna be ready to go soon?”

“Mhm, just let me finish up here,” you trail off, motioning to the last few sips of your own wine. “We’ve still got some time before we have to leave anyway.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Jimin cuts in while twining an arm over your bare shoulders, cheek pressed sweetly to yours, “You can’t rush perfection, Kookie. Isn’t that right, pretty baby?”

It’s no surprise your anniversary ends in disaster; a fight so vicious it has you fleeing with an overnight bag, refusing to look at Jungkook let alone speak to him no matter how much he begs you to stay.

Leaving him alone in an apartment ringing with your absence, terrified this is the beginning of the end and thoroughly convinced he’s the worst fucking husband ever.

It’s been several days of radio silence.

No amount of texting or calling gets you to answer. And it’s starting to get to him, going out of his mind with worry, with guilt. If only he hadn’t said this, that, and the other.

If only you’d stayed.

Now, everywhere he turns, Jungkook’s forced to face the jealousy growning like a weed in his heart. And every day it gets worse; a stone crushing his lungs, a bottomless pit curdling his stomach.

He doesn’t know where you are exactly, but his suspicions are proven correct when he nearly busts down the door to Jimin’s apartment only to have you invite him inside, stony-faced and silent.

The quiet doesn’t last, broken by the awkward clearing of his throat as he avoids your stare.

“What are we even doing?” he asks.

Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline.

There are bags under your eyes and heavy lines around your mouth. You look like you haven’t slept well. Jungkook’s gut clenches, bile bubbling up the back of his throat.

It’s all my fault.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Kook.”

“Please.” He refuses to acknowledge the plea for what it is. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore.” His voice breaks, cracks in two, tears stopping up his tongue. “I need to know.”

Your eyes flash with confusion. “Baby?” You step closer, hand outstretched and shoulders relaxing. “What are you talking about?”

His intentions are pure, honest.

But months of simmering anger, of doubting everything about himself (again), of resenting the fact he resents you, resents Jimin at all, bubbles to the surface.

He’s not proud of it, but Jungkook explodes; a match set to gunpowder.

“I’m talking about you and Jimin!”

“Me,” you ask, blinking owlishly, “-- and Jimin?”

Jungkook smiles, sharp and unpleasant. Bitter and disappointed. Grief makes him mean, nasty. “Yeah, you and Jimin. Do you think I’m stupid - were you just gonna keep fucking around behind my back?”

“Woah, pump the breaks! What the hell are--”

“Don’t even try to deny it.”

His eyes glint like shards of black ice, cool and assessing as he stares at you. Numb to the concern in your gaze, the purse of your lips. He’s slipping - he knows he’s slipping. Can feel the grief stricken rage pressing in at the corners of his mind.

The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, and yet he’s helpless to stop the words pouring from his mouth. “Did you like watching me make a fool of myself?”

You sneer, arms crossed over your chest so hard it looks like it hurts, “You’re doing that all on your own, Jungkook. I think you need to leave.”

“No, no, come on. I want to know. Why did you marry me if you don’t even want me, huh?”

Stalking closer, Jungkook corners you against the counter.

The smooth glide of his body is reminiscent of a large jungle cat, purely predatory. The uncomfortable thrill of it reflects through your gaze, the clench of your thighs.

Dark satisfaction curls low in his belly.

He asks, “Did he fuck you better, make you scream his name?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re being a fucking pig,” you say, shoving his shoulder towards the door. “Now I really think it’s time for you to leave. Come back when you’re not being stupid.”

Strong fingers clamp down around your wrist, and Jungkook tugs you into his chest. His free arm curls around your waist, pinning you to his front. The heat of your body can’t drive away the sudden cold washing over him.

“Let go-”

“No.” He watches as any retort dies on your tongue, your eyes meeting his head on for the first time. Whatever you see hooks in, refusing to let go. “I’m not letting you go.”

Shivering, you try to tug your arm free, “Jungkook, please. You’re starting to scare me.”

In lieu of a response, Jungkook dips his head, and inhales the scent of your hair. Dragging his nose down the length of your neck as the familiar perfume floods his lungs. Soothes the prowling beast caged in his chest.

A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through him into you, your nipples stiffening against him.

Jungkook sighs, “You always smell so good, baby.”

The tension threaded through your frame releases, your edges softening until you rest against him fully. Shivers race down his spine when your breath tickles his ear.

You call to him softly.

He hums, nuzzling into the side of your head, “Mhm?”

“Can you let me go now? Promise I won’t go anywhere.”

Jungkook pulls back to look at you for several long seconds. Unlatching his fingers, he watches as you flex your wrist. Then reaches up to tenderly curl the digits around your throat, transfixed by the sight.

A hook of arousal sinks into his stomach.

Yanks hard when you gasp at the push of his thick thigh against your pussy, your whine when he flexes the muscle. With a soft cry, you sag into his body while your hands fly up to plant themselves on his biceps.

“K-Kook!”

“Mm, that’s it.”

The bubble of emotions boiling under the surface of his skin is at odds with the satisfaction coiling in his belly, the interested twitch of his cock.

Jungkook rolls his thigh and works you along the length of it. The heat of you burns through the cotton of his lounge pants, so warm and soft and wet.

"Don't--" your protest trails off, smothered by your teeth as your eyes flutter in pleasure. "Hn!"

Shit, he wants to bury himself so deep inside you’ll never forget the stretch. Ruin you so good with his cock you won’t dream of anyone else ever again. He’d make you his and his alone.

Fingers tightening around your neck, Jungkook murmurs, “Let me hear you, baby.”

Unsuccessfully trying to ignore how good the friction is, you shake your head in denial. But there’s no hiding how turned on you’re getting, panties sticky and thighs clamping around his.

You’re absolutely soaked, evidenced by the growing dark patch on his leg as he grinds you into a sloppy mess.

“W-We can’t, Jimin’s h-home.”

Mentioning the other man is a mistake, and you know that.

Jungkook sees the realization light up in your eyes seconds after he tenses, rutting up against you harshly. The bulge of his cock digs into the dip of your hip, throbbing in time with the labored heaves of his chest.

His kneecap catches, the sharp ridge smashing into your swollen clit. Your mouth drops open, and Jungkook slaps a hand over your face before the wail escapes.

He knows he’s being rough, but the tears in your eyes soothe some of the hurt. And honestly, he can’t bring himself to care overmuch, especially when your hips jerk against his.

“Better be quiet. We don’t want Jimin to hear us,” Jungkook snarls, “after all, what would he think if he saw how bad you’re gagging for your husband’s dick?”

Your indignant response is cut off by another muffled whine, his teeth sinking into the corner of your jaw.

A weak spot of yours - Jungkook abuses it to his advantage. Swiping his tongue through the layer of sweat that clings to your skin, the salt bursting across his tongue.

He groans.

“I don’t give a fuck what you or Jimin think.” His breath puffs warm and moist over your ear, voice whiskey rough when Jungkook says, “You married me. You’re mine, baby, and I don’t share.”

Relocating, his hand releases your throat and finds your hips. He slips under the mid-thigh hem of your oversized nightshirt, and snaps the waistband of your panties with a firm tug.

Pulling the fabric free from between your legs, he tucks the ruined fabric into his back pocket as a souvenir.

“K-Kook,” you say, voice warbling.

He hums, eyes glittering dangerously as his fingers brush over the top of your slit. Your clit jumps beneath the pad of his finger, swollen and throbbing.

When you hiss low between your teeth, he smirks, and bullies the little nub with rough circles until your hips shift from side to side.

“Ah, shit, baby. Can you hear how sloppy your pussy is?”

Jungkook dips his fingers between your folds, playing with your gummy walls as he gathers your slick, teasing the rim of your entrance. The filthy squelches echo out into the otherwise silent apartment.

He preens, chest puffing up with pride, and says, “He can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he?”

Without warning, he slides two fingers deep inside to the third knuckle. Chuckles when you burrow your face into his shoulder, your nails dragging raised lines of heat down his arms as your walls give, fluttering around his thick digits as you adjust to the stretch.

“Mm, you always take me so well, baby.”

You clench at the praise, and Jungkook pumps his fingers in reward, curling up to massage at the spongy patch of your g-spot. You whine, head tossed back and thighs shaking around his hand.

Pain shoots through the base of Jungkook’s spine, and biting back a curse, he reaches down to adjust his cock from where its trapped against you, swollen and leaking.

“Yeah, you’re such a good girl.”

“Please,” you whine before mumbling something else.

Jungkook’s not sure what it is, but figures it’s not all that important when your eyes roll back into your head and your hips twitch.

You start to bear down on his fingers, walls tensing and releasing.

“Gonna cum?” Jungkook nips at your bottom lip, panting into your mouth and sharing breath as his eyes bore into yours. “Fuck! Do it. Wanna feel you cum all over my hand.”

God, you look so good like this; eyes teary and brows crinkled, sweat-slick and mouth slack. A sight he never wants to be without. His sweet girl, his baby, his wife.

“Yeah, that’s it.” His fingers curl and pulse, pet and stretch. “Now open those pretty eyes.”

A hand curls around your jaw, tugs at your chin.

“Look at me,” Jungkook breathes.

Please.

He watches, greedy, as your lashes flutter, the lids weighted down by pleasure. Eventually, you manage to crack them open, and he ruts forward in response. His groan vibrates his lips as they smash into yours in a violent kiss.

You pull away with a gasp, slick dripping down your shaky knees. “I can’t - hnggg - fuck, Kook!”

“Tell me who you belong to.”

He’s unforgiving in his demands, a cold fire burning in the depths of his eyes. His cock throbs, his hips trembling with restraint as he stops himself from rutting to completion against you.

His heart hammers against his ribs, and his stomach swoops.

The answer will either make or break him.

Anticipation floods the room with tension; hovering in the air like a word about to be spoken.

“Tell me.”

“I -- you, Kook, I’ve always belonged to you,” you say, clenching down around him. “Please.”

Capturing you with his gaze, Jungkook hooks a thumb into the corner of your mouth. All the hurt, all the doubts, all the rage bleed out of him like water tossed over the embers of a campfire.

Leaving behind the single-minded desire to give you what you want. What you deserve. Because you’re his and the only thing he wants to do is take care of you.

Love you like you deserve to be.

Like only he knows how to.

The taste of your skin is sharp and bright when his tongue flicks against yours, and he hisses into the plush of your mouth, “Cum.”

Keening, your pussy throbs once, twice. Your belly contracts. And then you’re gushing wetly, a warm flood of slick soaking the palm of Jungkook’s hand, dripping down to puddle on the kitchen tile. Your walls ripple, muscles spasming as you shake apart in his arms.

Jungkook holds you through it, soothing the aftershocks as you slump into him - a marionette with its strings cut. You’re cotton soft, cloudy. Head lolling on his shoulder when you look up at his profile with hazy eyes.

“Show off,” you slur when you catch the sight of his satisfied smirk, the puff of his chest as he stares at something behind you. “Can’t believe you made me cum all over Jimin’s kitchen floor.”

The sound of a choked-off, slightly hysterical laugh comes from the entryway, “Oh, I can. Just glad to see you guys finally made up. Now I’m gonna go wash my eyes with bleach.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook imagine

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d1s1ntegrated · 11 months ago

Note

I just read your shigaraki fic with him stealing readers clothes and

First: loved it he’s such a little freak and I love him

Second: part 2? Maybe where reader goes into his rooms well he’s doing his thing with our clothes and gets caught red handed and just pretty much braces down and reader doms him or something I don’t know I just think a part 2 where reader walks in on him doing it would be fun

I’m sorry if this is against any rules you have you can ignore if you want

Im just an idiot 🙃 ok goodbye

shhhhh ur not an idiot and this is hot af so YASS

laundry pile (nsfw)

tomura x fem!reader

tags: stealing clothes, masturbation, stalker behavior, heavy petting, dacryphilia, p/v pen, swearing, degradation, dom/sub dynamic implied, fem reader, hardcore smut, light comfort, sub/switch! tomura, humiliation, oral (m&f rec)

A/N: i'm getting caught up on my asks finally 🫶 so sorry for the weird inactivity i love u all! also this isn't proofread sorry ill prob edit it later lol!

"For fucks sake" you threw your door open in frustration, storming down the hall to Shigaraki's room. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the worst. You didn't really want to ask him of all people, but you were desperate and flustered now.

You knock gently, and before hearing him respond, you turn the handle.

"Hey, Shigaraki, have you seen my-" You open the door of Tomura's room prematurely, the light knocking not alerting him fast enough as he scrambles to yank his covers over him.

"SHIT, fucking, GET THE FUCK OUT," the man's voice heightens in pitch with every word, straining to speak. He's gripping his blanket with four white knuckles, ring finger held above the blue fabric. His hands shake and beads of sweat are flattening his fringe to his forehead, and his breathing even from the doorway looks erratic. It's no mistake, you walked in at the wrong time. Your jaw hangs open slightly at the image of him and begin backing up slightly.

"I'm sorry, I'll...well, while I'm here," you start with a sheepish smile, "have you seen my black sweater? The one with the..." Your fingers twiddle around as you describe the well-loved garment, and he groans.

"...No," he wipes his hair from his face, "Go ask the girls."

"Sorry. Yeah, I'll do that." You reach for the door handle with a curt nod, and turn to head out, when something catches your eye. On the floor, next to a pile of used towels and dirty laundry, you notice the familiar lace trim, a delicate pink bow...

You reach for the piece as Tomura shoots up on his bed, still covering himself. "What are you doing??" His voice is anxious, and as you come back up, you hang the fabric delicately between your fingers in front of him.

"Are these my fucking underwear?" With a fire hot enough to burn his room to the ground, you storm closer to him, standing over him now with fierce eyes, able to really take in the sight of him now. His eyes are heavier than usual, his back flexed and his arms tense against his chest as he plasters the sheet against his snowy skin. He looks up at you with a feverish glint, avoiding contact with the skimpy bottoms hanging in front of his face. He shakes his head, unable to speak.

The sheet leaves little to the imagination, as you look him up and down in his bed. You bite back your rage as you notice a strap peeking out from under one of his pillows, and you shove him back and lean over to yank it out from underneath. Your pink bralette, that you could've sworn you lost for good, was now in your hands, waving dangerously close to Tomura. With wide eyes, he gives the equivalent look to a dog who got caught with a slipper. Cowering was a new look for him. As you stare him down, you notice the sheet twitching, an unmistakable silent pleading. Your face, now mere inches above his, sends his heart sprinting out of his body.

If it weren't for your discovery, it would've been almost...charming, to see him like this. Lips pink and puffy, as if they'd been bitten raw, and the remarkable sheen of sweat and lust glazing his scarred face. A heavy breath, halfway to climax and halfway to anxiety attack. You couldn't tell if he was turned on or terrified at this point. Your mind preferred the latter, but somewhere deep inside, you liked the idea of the former.

There was also something already charming about his actions. Your clothes were scattered all around him, around his room. Part of you felt enthralled by the idea of your fearsome leader, your boss, the dangerous villain doing something as depraved and perverted as stealing your clothes. Especially after all of the shit you guys fought about, how many times he told you to fuck off and that he couldn't stand you. It was like an unwritten confession, and it made your heart flutter for a moment. You stood there, thinking about what he was doing to them exactly, with a frivolous process. It didn't take much for your mind to conclude the thought, knowing you just caught him doing precisely what you could have imagined with them. It felt almost elementary to catch him in the act of something so vulgar, and despite your scornful expression, you had to fight the instinctual curling of your lips.

"What else do you have of mine?" You kept your face flat, curiosity driving you further. He shrank down a moment before raising a shaky arm towards his door.

"Close that, please" his brows furrowed as you both looked toward the wide-open door, giving whoever walked by a full view of the situation. You padded towards it and slammed it closed, locking it behind you before re-approaching him with the same fervor as before. You toss the two garments at him and ask him again.

"What else did you steal from me?"

He swallowed and took a deep breath before raising his hand up in defeat, "I'm sorry". His eyes glossed over as he looked away, blinking rapidly. He lifted the pillow behind him and began removing things from the pile of things. Multiple pairs of underwear, two bras, three shirts, a pair of lounge shorts, and a few random socks. Your jaw dropped as he handed them to you, sniffling with embarrassment and disturbance. You shook your head slowly, partially in awe and disbelief. How did he even manage...and why? How long had he been doing it for? Your mind raced as you compiled everything at the edge of his bed. He sat there dejected as you counted everything.

"Fourteen. FOURTEEN things of mine. Just under your pillow. What, why?? Where else do you hide it all? Is this where all my clothes have gone?" Your voice rises in frustration and confusion as he falters.

He shakes his head and quavers, with the smallest voice you've ever heard from him.

"I don't know. I'm sorry". He shows remorse, no doubt. But the movement underneath the thin sheet doesn't help to convince you of his guilt. Some part of him likes the fact he was caught, surely. It's easy to see it, with the faint flush of his complexion.

You lean down more and lift his face with a finger on his chin, directing his eyes to meet yours. You don't say anything, which scares him more than anything. At any point, you could run out of his room, screaming about how he was a freak, or a coward, or a stalker. Even him, your notorious leader, was scared of being exposed so viscerally. You recognize this, his crimson eyes welling with shameful tears as you look into them.

You wanted to be so angry. You wanted to be disgusted, freaked out, and you wanted to hate him. You could let him being murderous slide, but being a loser? It boiled your blood. But you couldn't tear yourself away from his wet gaze, the tears falling heavily now as you gripped his chin between thumb and forefinger. He didn't pull away, either, he just accepted his loss. There were so many reasons why you should hate him.

But you don't, you realize, as you lean in and pull him into a hungry kiss. His lips are rough, but wet with tears as you press yours into them. Maybe it was pity, maybe it's because you know he's pent up and stressed out and most certainly a virgin. It's possible he just needs comfort. Perhaps you're encouraging him, and for all you know, maybe you like that.

You stop yourself from thinking and just let your body move. You push him back, taking his hands away from the iron grip on the sheets and lifting them above his head. He doesn't argue, and complacently loosens his body with a light whimper as you touch him. You climb onto his lap, still pinning his arms down as you snake your tongue into his mouth. He tastes so sweet, so addicting. It was unlike anything you could describe, like apple and spices and sweet mint. You cave in to him, allowing yourself to feel the rush of endorphins swell in your core. Your mind goes blank as you feel his length between your legs, twitching and jumping like an eager animal.

You finally pull away from the kiss, only to bite down his scarred neck and shoulder.

"You're a fucking thief" you say between bites, and he whimpers.

"I know" he shakes as you sink your teeth in. He groans out as you bite down harder at his response.

"You're a fucking freak" you spit. He nods, trembling.

"I'm sorry" he cries out as you sink your canines into him.

"You like that, hm? You like being a sick fuck?" you tighten your grip on his wrists.

His whimpers and moans drive you crazy. You fight the urge to take him all at once, even if it tortures you as well. Your lips curl sadistically as you lick his wounds, tongue grazing over not only the bites, but the torn skin of his neck from his incessant scratching. The faint taste of blood stings in your mouth, the metallic fragrance soaking your senses. You feel your core liquify as tears spill from his eyes, the thick lashes sticking together. He sobs, clenching his jaw.

"Please, I can't take it". His heavy breaths buckle in his chest, and you bring your free hand up to caress his face.

"You're so pretty like this, Tomura" your voice is slick with hunger, a newfound lust from hearing his pathetic noises. He blinks up at you in a daze, his pupils blown wide as you release your grip on his wrists.

"Please" he whispers, and you laugh.

"Please what? You seriously think you're getting rewarded? For being a fucking pervert?"

Tomura bites his lip and shakes his head.

"No, I'm sorry".

It was a sight to behold. Your fearsome leader, now crumbling beneath you, begging to be touched. Pleading for forgiveness, admitting fault with fat tears soaking his cheeks. Everything you swore he would never be capable of, he was doing. And it made you feel so powerful. It was well overdue- someone eventually would've put him in his place- you just never thought it'd be you to do it.

You retreat from his lap, standing swiftly. You watch his face fall a bit, then relight as you slide your top and bottoms off, leaving you standing nearly naked in front of him. His eyes soak in the image of you, his hands clenching. You reach for the sheet and yank it off of him, finally, to expose his naked body completely.

His cock stands proud, already leaking and throbbing as you grab it. He gasps, the air hitching in his chest as your thumb slides down the tip, admiring his length as you squeeze it gently.

"You're such a desperate little bitch," you start demeaning him further, fingers trailing to wrap around his balls. He mewls as you continue, "I always knew you were a pathetic loser".

His cock convulses as you speak, and you lose you patience. You take him in your mouth, pressing your tongue flatly against the thickness. You graze your teeth against the sensitive skin, and he hisses out a string of curses. You speed up, fingers still teasing him with lazy tugs. You reach underneath and press two fingers against the untouched skin, massaging it gently. The action causes him to clench his fists mindlessly against the sheets, and they immediately disintegrate into nothingness. He grumbles out a "Fuck", but is swiftly redirected back to the multitude of sensations below. You laugh, his thick cock still in your mouth, and he throws his head back. He begins mindlessly thrusting into your throat, causing you to choke a bit on the size of him. He spreads his legs open further as you massage the neglected spot, clearly enjoying the newly discovered sensitivity.

Before he can finish, and god is he dangerously close to doing so, you pull off of him. He groans and silently begs for more, but you shake your head and get back on top of him.

"You think I'm doing this for your enjoyment? You owe me, not the other way around." you spew out. "It's my turn, loser."

He doesn't have time to argue it as you slide your underwear off and bring yourself to his face. You speak, knowing his can't respond, enjoying his compliance. "Have you ever done this before? No? Hm..." You chuckle out sinfully as his mouth falls wide, dragging his tongue up your dripping cunt to your clit. "Do a good job, and maybe then I'll let you have more."

He's clearly inexperienced, the way his tongue explores your folds and curves, but he's starving regardless. He presses his tongue deeply into you, moaning at the taste as you grind against his mouth. He gains confidence as he grips your hips with a four-fingered grip, keeping his pinkies as far as anatomically possible from your soft skin. He kneads his slender fingers into the fat of your hips and ass, his nails digging in as his tongue picks up speed. After a minute or two adjusting, he's eating you like a dog, licking and sucking and nipping at everything he can, with a determination previously unseen. It feels unforgettable, the way his teeth graze your clit and his tongue licks at you like you're candy. The poor depraved man laying under you, finally graced with the taste of you he's only ever had in dreams. You tasted much better than the underwear he stole. It felt holy now, so dirty and urgent that it felt like prayer.

You can't avoid the hastily approaching orgasm as he flicks his tongue on the throbbing bundle of nerves. You grind down on his face, coating his mouth and chin with your heat as he sends you over the edge. You drive your hips down, nearly suffocating him, as you clench and shiver on his face. You can feel him panting and smiling and swallowing every drop of your climax thankfully, which sends you even further.

When you finally come crashing down, you pull off of him and slide back down his chest and position him right in front of your needy hole. But you can't give into him just yet. It's his punishment, not reward, to fuck you and please you and make you cum.

He looks positively elated, his pupils still swallowing his ruby irises and his hair tangled around his pretty face. He's smiling, with a tired breath, but he's nowhere near done. He's completely aware of his consequences.

"Good boy, Tomu" you praise him with a gentle kiss on the cheek, his face still soaked from you. He smiles a bit more, but is still silent as you continue, "I almost forgive you for being such a disgusting slut".

He nods and silently mouths out an "okay". You trail a finger up his jaw and press a kiss to it. But his response isn't enough for you. You want more, you want to press the subject deeper before allowing him to have something so sacred.

"Tell me, pretty freak; why did you steal my clothes?"

He takes a moment to bite his lip, looking away as he responds. "I like to".

Not good enough. "And?" you pry.

"It...feels good. To smell you. And taste you. It feels so good..." he bleats out pitifully, and you can't help but feel a little bit enamored at his answer.

"Yeah? Was it worth it?" You tilt your head slightly, loving his plaintive admissions.

He nods and smiles, "Definitely".

Tomura's slight defiance stirs something inside of you. At the end of the day, he always gets what he wants. And if he wanted to steal your clothes, soil them with a weeks worth of cum, he fucking would. He did. He wasn't an entirely too demanding person, but he was, at his core, determined to have everything he wants. Including you, in every way he can.

You can't wait any longer as you take his length inside of you. You gasp out a bit at the size, feeling it stretch your walls with a burning sensation. He immediately moans out, unable to even slightly quiet down as he feels how wet you are around him.

"You're so fucking tight," he cries, and you clench around him, causing him to spasm a bit. His eyes roll back and he begins thrusting into you from below, the friction driving you crazy. "You feel just like I imagined" he confesses, words heavy with desire.

You grind into him as he thrusts, both rutting against each other fervidly. The tuft of baby blue hair drags a bit against your clit and you can't help as his name spills from your lips like honey.

"Fuck, Tomura, you're so big" you lewdly cry out as he grips you again. His cock slams against your cervix, sliding in and out of your entrance rapidly. His moans and whimpers become intangible, a never-ending slew of crude noises just leaking from his pretty pink lips. You nearly forget being angry, you throw your inhibitions to the side, because it feels far too good to not focus on entirely. The way he whines and keens melts you like the sun.

You both get closer with each frantic thrust. Months of pining and pretending to hate each other paid off well enough, because the feeling of his cock inside of you, plowing you filthily, locked in the satisfaction of meeting him in the first place.

"And I thought you hated my guts" you moan out as he slams into you, folding a bit. He wraps his arms around you and you tuck your head into his neck as he takes complete control from beneath.

"No, I just, fuck, couldn't stand not having this" he breathes out, his hold on you intensifying. "I want you".

His speed shakes your mind, leaving you fuzzy as you reach your final breaking point. He's close behind, his thrusts becoming less coordinated as he moans out your name like a broken record.

"Tomura, I-"

He cuts you off with a whine, "Please, let me cum inside of you". You completely shatter around him, the heat inside of you finally snapping in half as you grind into him mindlessly, the sensation of your orgasm tearing through you like a full moon's tide. You cry and gasp out into his ear, and he decides he can't wait anymore. He spills into you with a howl, twitching and sputtering as he finally fills you up. The pearly strings coat your sore insides, gumming you up. He sinks his teeth down into your neck as he ruts into you, pumping his seed deeper inside as he rides out his orgasm. You feel the suffocating wave of euphoria wash over you, unable to form a coherent thought as he pulls out slowly.

He lolls his head back and keeps you wrapped in his arms, unwilling to release you.

"I'm sorry" he finally speaks. The silence in the room dissipates with his raspy voice, and you nod.

"Do you at least wash them when you're done?" You ask, and he nods back.

"I return them when you aren't there.." he admits.

"Okay" you don't have the energy or even the space inside of you to actually be mad. If anything, you were more upset before cause for the most part, you were missing a lot of your favorite pairs of underwear, and you thought you were losing your mind.

"I promise I'll stop" he whispers into your hair, "I'm sorry".

You shake your head against his chest. "Don't. It gives me an excuse to come back in here and do this again".

His heartbeat speeds a bit as he processes your words. A part of him wants to tell you you don't need an excuse. But the other part of him wants you to keep catching him. The chase, the raw desire, he'd been playing the long game, and you fell right for it. His silly little game he'd been playing worked out perfectly in his favor, and he relished in that fact.

He doesn't respond. You close your eyes on his chest, and he pulls up the other blanket that was unscathed from his torrential grip. He smiles to himself as you slowly fall asleep on him, your breathing slowing. Lying there with you, he finally felt content and full for once, and that scared him. But he laid there still, soaking in the feeling of completing his goal.

But he no longer wanted to play this game. He wanted to win it.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #tomura shigaraki #mha shigaraki #tenko shimura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #lov x reader #dust.oneshot #dust.writing #dust.ask

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emptywwwriting · 11 months ago

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Your Toxic Situationship with Joel Miller

Parings: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Smut, toxic, age gap (not specified), angst?, reader cries during sex, NO Y/N, reader just wants to be loved (me too), rough p in v sex.

Summary: You and Joel have a situationship, you have feelings for Joel, but he doesn't feel the same

Inspired by a post i have reposted on my blog :)

WC: 1.2k (tiny ik)

A/N: I feel like this sucks... Anyways this is NOT edited and its that time of the night where im so tired my glasses don’t help my vision any sooo take this with a grain of salt. i'll edit it later!

There was something so painful about your relationship,, situationship... with Joel Miller.

Maybe it was the way he’d ignore you in town, even after spending days on end with you in secret. Or maybe it was the way he’d dismiss your insecurities when you would tell him about them nervously, late into the night. He’d shake his head or say.

“People would talk, no one can know about… whatever, this is.”

Whatever

It never felt like 'whatever’ to you. When he was buried inside of you so deeply brushing your cervix over and over and over again, murmurs of

“Fuck you feel so good, I love you. So fuckin’ tight sweet girl.” Would fall from his lips.

He would spill inside of you, and then the two of you wouldn’t discuss it again. It confused your desperate, sad, brain, yearning for love, to be loved. One night, during a particularly rough fucking from Joel, tears welled in your eyes as soon as you came. He stopped immediately, of course, and asked you what was wrong.

Sniffles interrupted your soft-spoken words.

“I want you to like me.” You hid your eyes from him, casting them down in shame.

“Aw, baby I do like you,” His hand came up to cradle the side of your face, wiping away a stray tear.

“Such a pretty little thing,” His hand trailed to your neck and you looked up at him.

“So tight and warm around me.” A devilish smirk overcame his previously soft look at you and you frowned. His look faltered, and he cocked his head at you.

“T’s not what I wanted to hear,” A sniffle. “I want you to like me…” You trail off trying to think of an example.

“More than just for this.” You gesture to the position the two of you are in, your naked and sweaty frame shoved against Joel’s headboard. His broad chest is hovering above you, hips flush with yours, warm and shoved deep inside of you.

He frowns at you and starts rubbing your red cheeks again.

“Baby we can’t be more than this, it’s…” He wanders off for a minute thinking of the right word.

“People wouldn’t like to see an old man like me with a young girl like you.” He gives you a sympathetic frown that you know is fake.

He shifts his weight slightly causing his heavy cock to brush that spongy spot inside of you, causing you to gasp softly.

“I-I don’t care, I want to be boyfriend and girlfriend… or something.” Hiccups interrupt you occasionally, and tears begin to form once more.

“Too young baby,” He’s shaking his head and it's breaking your heart.

“Not old enough for me, still just a kid compared to my old ass.” He chuckles trying to lighten the mood but it doesn't work, it just frustrates you more.

“I’m not a kid.” Your tone is snappy and your eyes are staring deep into his. He shifts his hips again but you muffle the reaction it causes you.

“Don't talk to me like im dumb.”

“No need to get short with me.” His smile has dropped and he looks as mad as you do now. You can’t mistake the shift in his hips this time as simply repositioning himself.

Your confidence falters.

“Why won’t you just love me?” You ask equally angry and sad.

He pulls his hips out barley a centimeter before pushing back in, slow. You gasp louder, body beginning to heat up again.

“I love this pussy baby, feels so good.” He’s grinning again pulling out even farther now before shoving himself back in. You're mad at him but the fullness his cock is giving you feels too good to ask for him to stop. You the feel tears coming again, but his hand on your clit, rubbing light soft circles sends your focus away from them.

“Needa stop thinkin’ baby, dumb little brain can’t handle all these emotions.” He’s talking to you like you're stupid and it makes your cheeks flush. He’s patronizing you, it’s infuriating, but just like before the feeling of his thrust growing longer and harder, short circuits your brain and all you can do is moan.

“Yeah I know baby, feels too good hmm?”

“Jus’ let me do all the work to make you feel good like I always do.” His thrusts pick up and a coil forms deep in your belly. Your legs are wrapping around his hips instinctively and you cling to his neck like if you let go he would disappear. Your whines are needy now, you're mad but you can’t talk, you can’t do anything but let yourself be filled by him over and over.

“I always take care of you right baby.” His breathing is labored and his eyes are black.

Staring up at him, with wide eyes and an open mouth all you can do is hum a broken.

Mhmm.

“Fill you up so nice, gonna cum in you n’ make you mine.” He’s growling, pace now erratic and mind-numbing. Your thoughts are gone and have been replaced by him. His smell, his looks, the way he feels, him him him him him.

All you can do is screw your eyes shut with a silent scream.

“All mine, fuck, you’re all mine right?” His sentence doesn’t sound like a question but you are so fucked out you don’t even hear it.

A quick but firm slap to your cheek causes your eyes to shoot open, and stare back at him saucer-eyed. It didn’t hurt, but it got your attention.

“Who’s are you?” He's angry, still pounding your swollen sensitive pussy mercilessly.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.

“Gonna get real mean you don’t answer me.”

You know he’s not bluffing.

“You! Fuck.” It comes out strangled and airy. All of your breath is gone, you are heaving trying to get oxygen to your brain again.

“All mine, you’re all mine. Just a silly,” He gives you a particularly rough thrust.

“Stupid-“ Another.

“Girl.”

It makes your heart sink but his thrust mixed with his finger working rapidly over your swollen bud, for some reason pushes you over the edge. You're clinging to him, nails deep inside his skin, riding out the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had. The waves hit you hard, and they are relentless. Tears prick your eyes, and your body tenses rhythmically. Before you know it Joel is pumping his seed deep inside of you. Your name is a mantra on his lips.

“Mine, mine, mine, shit, mine.” pours from him as he loses himself within your walls. Everything is tight and warm and you feel like mush. His weight is crushing you but it feels like home.

Joel is home to you. You know deep down that he doesn't truly care for you, but something about his experienced touch ignites a fire within you. You can’t bring yourself to do anything but worship him. He pushes himself off of you and all you can do is drunkenly admire his beautiful tan skin, covering his broad muscles. The weight of your forbidden arrangement always hangs heavy in the air after you guys fuck.

He grudgingly pulls out of you with a defeated sigh. You whimper at the loss of contact. He brings you a towel, wiping your sensitive parts, ridding them of any trace of him.

You know that your love for him is built upon something not returned by him completely. You are just a naive girl yearning for his affection; Yet, you are aware that the excitement of your fleeting encounters and shared looks intoxicates you both. Neither of you will ever find the strength to separate from one another.

#joel miller tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #smut #tlou game #tlou smut #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut

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pinkyqily · 4 months ago

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ALL MINE - JUJU WATKINS X READER

Summary: school and life is stressing you out but your lovely girlfriend is here to calm the cloudy storm brewing up.

Contains: fluff, fool inlove, juju and reader are down bad for each other. Also ignore the mistakes in one of the text I'll edit it out later

A/n: another game day fic we cheer this is a date fic one of my favorite writing prompt i hope you guys enjoy this, I would have had this posted earlier but tumblr sucks and didn't save half of the ending so I had to redo it but here it's, and as always happy reading, feedbacks are appreciated or commenting in general 💕

It has been a while since you ans the basketball player hangout, with both of you being full time students athletes your schedule would always clash and you guys wouldn't be able to hang.

But that didn't stop your late night calls catching each other up about what is going on in your lives.

Juju could tell you where having a strees full week from your track week and juggling having a part-time job.

You where getting ready for the day that you had ahead of you until you heard your phone pig. Picking it up you saw a message from juju.

You weren't going to question what she had planned because one thing about ju was she stays planning.

Your whole day went well, practice went well your after a while you needed to meet up with a few friends for revision.

You got back at your apartment around three in the afternoon. You started by doing your wash routine that conceited of a coconut butter body wash, then gentility exfoliating any dead skin.

Getting out the shower, you wrapped your towel around you, moving onto your skincare routine and body care routine.

Once you were done, you started getting dressed, picking a black flared tube bodysuit, and paired it with a cropped puffer jacket. You wore your white and gold Jordan 4 that juju got for you, and for a final touch, you added your white Prada cross bag to finish your outfit.

With a final touch of using the Vaseline body oil and your kali perfume in vanilla candy rock sugar.

You picked up your phone to text juju that you were done and she could be coming. After a few minutes of waiting, you got a text from her saying she was outside, but before you left, you replied, Your perfume.

Finally making it outside your building you saw juju leaned back on the car.

"Hey baby." You said, making your way towards her.

"Hi, my love." She said once she saw you

"So where are we going?" You asked her, as you we're about to open the door for yourself she got to the handle before you beating you to it.

"Umm, thinking about me and you a little date night, driver around our area and get some food while we're at it, what do you think." She told you as she closed the door

"Sounds like music to my ears." You said

"Gald were on the same note, how was your practice?". She asked

"Wasn't bad went really well, I'm starting to think these coaches got sum up with them so much complaining before we even start, but things are well." You told her.

You started ranting as juju continued driving but still paid attention to what you we're saying.

"And can you believe that, telling me I'll come third behind some big headed fool."

"No baby, but all that matters is that you prove to her and everyone else that they are wrong, you're the one who knows your strength and weaknesses."She told you as she laid her on your thighs palming your hands together.

"You're right it just gets really irritating having to hear this." You sighed, needing to get that rant out of your system.

"You feel better getting that out?

"Yea how did you even know I needed a day off".

"You looked like you were going through withdrawals on your spam."

"Ugh, don't remind me was spam was meant to be mysterious vibes only." You said.

Taking off your seat belt as she already found a spot to park.

"Pretty sure I'm the mysterious one." She said, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Whatever miss nonchalant, bring your face closer for a sec." You asked her

All of a sudden ju was all in your personal space, you looked up at her getting lost into those dark brown eyes of hers.

You felt her hot breath on your neck.

Next thing you do is pull the neck of her hoodie and go in for a kiss. It caught her off guard, but she found herself grabbing your face, deeping the kiss a little longer.

The both of you move back, trying to catch your breath.

If humans were able to breathe into each other the both of you would be sucking the oxygen out of one another.

"You got me way off guard." Was what she told you as took out her car keys.

"What did you think was gonna happen when I asked you to come closer, big head!?"

"Welp, I thought I had sum on me guess I was wrong."

"Sure, now where are we?". You said with a sarcastic tone layed under it

"This new diner places I recently found, c'om let's get out". She said taking off her seat belt.

"They better have good food."

Walking into the place you and juju had your hand intwering, she wasn't huge on pda, but you never take them for granted whenever she displays any type of affection for you in public.

You both went to go find yourself a table, getting yourself sitted before the waitress came.

"Enough about me, how's basketball?." You asked her.

"Same routine, but everything nice getting ready for march, though." She said as a waitress started making her way towards your table.

"Hi, welcome to didi's diner what get I get for you two?". You heard the waitress say.

"Umm, I'll have your chicken burger combo with a chocolate milkshake." Was what ju ordered

"And you miss".

"I'll have your chicken and beef pizza sandwich with a cold lemonade."You said

"Perfect would you guys like to pay now or later". The waitress had asked you both.

"I'll like to pay now." You told her as you started getting your card out.

"You'll be paying, yea no baby I got that what our total".

"Your total is 105". The waitress said she found you and juju amusing.

"Your always paying for everything I got this one". You said to her.

"Nah I got this". Before juju could do anything you grab both her hands and handed the waitress your own card instead.

"Here you go". You said to the waitress who immediately grab your card before ju could get out.

"I'll be back with your food soon".

"Thank you".

"Bruh why wouldn't you let me pay". She said crossing her arms.

"Because you always pay". You told her

"I pay because I enjoy treating you out". She said lowering her back on the chair.

"Well this one is my treat". You told her as you laid your head on her shoulder.

"This was supposed to be a fun relaxing day for you". She said.

"It's fun and relaxing because being with you is the quality time I need, so don't be sour Judea." You told her.

"Using my government is crazy." She said, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"Girl bye it ain't the end of the world and you do have a pretty name so yea infact might just be calling you that". You told her

"Sure baby." the both of you found yourselves looking at each other anyone could tell y'all got tension and chemistry together as a couple.

Before you both could do anything the waitress was already making her way towards you both.

"Here's your food hope you guys enjoy". She said before leaving you guys.

Anyone around the two of you could tell you both had crazy tension and chemistry, the attraction you both have on each other was something natural and couldn't be replicated.

You found yourself digging in juju fries that came with her meal.

"You got a problem miss Judea". You asked her as you took another one of her fry.

"You just have a pretty face and smell so good that I could eat you instead". She said making you almost choke.

"Ju, we're in public". You said nugging her.

"So?". She asked, not really caring. One thing for certain was that juju doesn't shy away from a lot of things. "Whatever big head".

You guys date continued you feed juju a few bites if your sandwich, chatted more about your goals and what you both want.

And you guys ended your night with a drive back to juju places and getting all cuddled up with her and duce.

#juju watkins #juju watkins x reader #juju watkins imagine #wbb #usc women’s basketball #usc wbb x reader #wbb x reader #wbb fic #wcbb x reader #wcbb fanfics #wbb imagine #ncaa wbb #usc trojans #usc wbb #wbb oneshot #wbb fanfiction #wbb fluff #juju watkins fanfics

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need-him-pregnant-poll · 4 months ago

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NEED👏THAT👏MAN👏PREGNANT TOURNEY SUBMISSIONS OPEN

Heyoooo! My name is Omi, and like most things in my life, i'm creating this gimmick blog on complete impulse~ we're just gonna make things up as we go and it's gonna be all fine and dandy.

ever felt overcome with the deeply rooted urge to make that fandom man a mother? well i've got good news for you.

BOOM

Here are your rules!

Probably easy to guess, but there WILL be NSFW language and jokes on this blog (not nsfw images however)! DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLZ AND THANK U 🙏

ONLY submit characters through the form link above. No ask submissions!

one character per submission

they can be from any form of media. only important thing is that they identify as a man.

fictional characters only! No real people!

characters must be adults (18+)

submit a specific character only once. you can submit more than one different character though

propaganda is encouraged, but i don't really like anti-propaganda (i.e. saying why an opposing character Shouldn't advance instead of just hyping your choice. Only because some people can get really heated about it and I'd rather keep things chill)

as always, tumblr polls are just for fun. Never take 'em too seriously!

the bracket size will be decided once I see our final submission count. Submissions open until April 24th

uhhh i can't think of anything else rn but if i do later i'll come back and edit 👍 if you have a specific question, send an ask my way and i'll see if i can answer it.

Tagging other blogs below for traction (feel free to ignore if this isn't your thing! I'm attempting to tag only blogs that I thiiink wouldn't be bothered, but if I make a mistake, I apologize)

@fuckable-old-man-battle @its-to-the-death @do-you-ship-it-polls @mod-nyashley @bonebridebanish-warcrimeedition @smashorpassgilf @tournament-announcer @tournamentdirectory @rpfshippingpolls @weeb-polls-with-pip @fuckablemeowmeowbattle @problematic-maleslash-polls @aretheyqueer

#tumblr polls #tumblr tourney #tumblr tournament #need that man pregnant #need him pregnant poll #mpreg #gimmick blog #what possessed me to make this blog? i wish i knew. but here we are

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 9 months ago

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The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 12

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 12 🔞

Word Count: 4734

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Guys! This one is NSFW from top to bottom, k? 😅 I hope you enjoy it as much as I have writting it. 🥰 (my phone app is being an idiot and doesn't let me add the spotify song as usual, and on the laptop this is how it looks like... I'll edit later, I really just want to release the chapter!)

You didn’t wait long for Law. It took him just enough time for you to freshen up a bit in the bathroom, give yourself a pep talk in the mirror, and hydrate. The day had been intense, and you were a nervous mess by now. The realisation that what you feel for Law is so much more than you initially thought, hits you hard, and now you’re suffering the backlash of it: trembling legs, a frenzied heart and untamed anticipation.

Your breath shakes as it leaves your parted lips, tingling hot against them as you face the vanity, slowly removing your jewellery. The dim light from the moon and the small bedside table lamp is the only source of brightness in the room, lending it a cosy and warm ambiance.

The door clicks softly, and your fingers tremble on your ear as you remove your earring. Law comes in, his eyes already fixed on your back, and he smirks as you watch him through the mirror. Another click on the door alerts you to the fact that he locked it, and then he drops his coat on the armchair before sitting at the edge of the bed, observing you. His legs are slightly open as he loosens his constricting tie.

You let out another shaky breath, your eyes never leaving his, as you remove the other earring and then your necklace. You’re still dressed, heels and all, but Law doesn’t seem to be in any rush. So you twist your arm to reach the zipper on your back, showing him how you could’ve done it alone earlier by unzipping it –that earns you another smug smirk– and you let your dress slither away from your shoulders and past your hips as it pools down at your feet.

The satisfaction you get from Law’s eyes following the fabric as it slides down your body and darkens with hunger, only makes your breath quicken. Your lingerie isn’t meant to seduce, it’s meant to be practical, but it’s lacy and revealing and Law’s ravishing you with his eyes.

He still doesn’t make a move.

So you do.

Inhaling deeply, you turn to face him, a slight blush creeping over your cheeks as you gather confidence from deep within, grasping at how Law makes you feel and how he never judged you.

His smirk widens, and he sits more comfortably, pulling himself a little higher on the bed, and you start to strut. For all the control he’s showing, he can’t keep his eyes still as they roam from your face to your chest, to your swaying hips, to your legs and your feet. He’s mesmerised.

His face rises to meet your eyes when you reach him, and you feel your cheeks burn again as you chew your bottom lip, a surge of intense desire almost making you lose your footing. Your heartbeat is deafening and keeps increasing as you set a hand on his chest and straddle him, one leg on each side, your knees making the mattress dip around him. Law’s hands still rest on the bed, though he can’t disguise the slight shortness of his breath or the unbridled hunger in his eyes.

Leaning forward, your lips hover just above his, tingling as they’re met with his hot breath, and you smirk. Running your fingers through the hair at his nape, you grind your hips, feeling how much he already wants you, and it takes an extreme amount of effort not to start moaning and pleading. But you’re a woman on a mission.

“I think tonight I’ll make you beg for what you want, Law. What do you say?” Your voice comes out in slow, shaky breaths, tingling his skin where you hover. You lick his neck, feeling his pulse flutter, and it’s you who almost breaks again. He’s divine.

“I don’t beg, sweetheart. Ever.” How can he still be so cool and collected? The only thing that gives him away is the slight raspiness in his voice as he answers you. So you decide to push a little more.

Turning your hips in small, steady circles, you grind against him, sensing his breath hitching every time you touch. You can almost see the invisible thread of his patience wearing thinner and thinner by the second. You know how much he loves being the one in control, and you need to enjoy this reprieve he’s letting you have before he snaps.

And heavens, how you want him to snap.

Your nails dig into his scalp as you press your clit against him unintentionally, letting out a moan-like gasp near his ear. He tenses, and you keep pushing him further, breathing on his neck, sucking and nibbling slowly. “Are you sure, Law? Are you sure you don’t–”

He doesn’t even let you finish. His hands come alive as he grasps your hips and flips you, pinning you against the mattress, looming over you with that unhinged smirk and darkened eyes. You let out a surprised gasp as a rush of energy jolts through your veins. You’ve pushed far enough.

“I don’t beg.” He removes his belt with a swift movement, and the sound of the leather whipping sends another jolt through you, making you shudder. Then with deft, confident moves, Law wraps the belt around your wrists and holds your arms above your head. The leather feels cool against your skin, tight but comfortable. You wriggle a bit, testing it, and it doesn’t even budge. “I take what I want.”

“Law…” Your tone is already pleading, you need him to touch you.

“See, sweetheart, you’re already getting it.” His smirk is insufferable and that only makes you want him more. “This has been a long time coming.” He murmurs, his fingers trailing your breasts through the bra, then descending to your stomach. So light and soft that the touch is barely there. It only ignites the flames higher and higher and they all burn in your core. “I’ve been dreaming of this moment.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he just smirks again, his tattooed fingers undoing his tie completely as he removes it and slips the fabric over your eyes. You inhale sharply, desire tingling and awakening all your senses, his presence suddenly overpowering everything else in the room.

“You’re mine, sweetheart. And I’m going to claim you in every way possible, until the only word spilling out of your mouth is my name.” His whisper against your ear seems heightened by the lack of sight, making you tremble slightly. “Got it?” Law punctuates his question with the tightening of the knot on the tie, and you gasp again, nodding.

Then his lips caress your ear, travelling to your jawline and down your neck. His goatee scratches against your skin as his tongue comes out to soothe the invisible rash. “I can’t hear you, sweetheart. What will you be saying?”

“Your name.” You let out a weak pant as his lips land on the dip of your throat and his thumb grazes your nipple. Without sight, you’re completely lost as to where he’ll touch you next. It intensifies his teasing a thousandfold, and you’re already burning up.

“Yes…?” He asks calmly, his fingers tracing every inch of your body in a torture-like caress, barely touching but close enough to ignite. Your hips shift restlessly beneath him, searching for some sort of friction or contact - anything that can help ease the burn inside of you.

“Law!” A desperate plea leaves your lips, and you don’t quite know how long you can take his teasing. He’s revelling in your neediness, you’re sure of it. Though you can’t see, you can practically feel his smug grin as his fingers descend softly, brushing your hips and settling on your bare thighs. You instinctively open your legs, praying he gives you what you want, but his touch only lingers on your inner thigh. So close and yet, so far away.

A soft whimper leaves your lips just as his fingertips touch your panties, and then he pulls away.

“There it is, sweetheart.” His voice is as smooth as silk, and it vibrates against your sternum as he nibbles and kisses your skin. “You make the prettiest sounds when you’re desperate.” He glides down, his tongue tracing patterns against your stomach and treading very close to the waistband of your underwear. “Do you want more?” He hums low.

“Yes.” Your voice barely counts as a whisper. It’s a sliver that catches and scrapes against your throat as you twitch your hands, feeling the leather crack and groan, as desperate as you are.

He pulls away, leaving only coldness behind. “I can’t hear you.”

You swallow hard past the lump in your throat, your back arching, yearning for his touch again. “Yes, Law.” Your voice seems stronger, though it trembles with a burning need that stems from the heat pooling between your thighs. “Please, Law, please.” Your whole body aches for him, it’s unbearable.

His slow chuckle brings forth another whimper from your lips. “That’s my good girl.” Finally his hand touches you with more purpose, no longer a feather-like touch, but a full-on grope of your flesh and you sigh, the anticipation of release just within reach. He grasps your hips and your thighs, and his fingers dip below the hem of your panties as your breath hitches.

Then he stops.

Your groan meets his chuckle. “How badly do you want this, sweetheart?”

“Please, Law! So badly. I need you to touch me, please!” He barely lets you finish your pleas - and you would’ve pleaded forever - before he slips his fingers inside your panties and finally touches you.

The gasp you let out is almost a cry as you arch your body, head falling back in abandon as the need in you begins to be fulfilled. He’s built the tension so high with all the teasing that every circling motion, every thrust of his fingers feels like molten lava on your body. You’re hit by wave after relentless wave of pleasure, giving way to wanton moans and whimpers.

“Feels good, sweetheart? You’re so wet for me already, look at you, so needy and desperate.” Law’s whispering against your ear, and by heavens, does this man know how to multitask. His tongue works around your neck, his hand cups your breast and teases your nipple with sharp pinches and soft caresses, and his fingers… They may spell death, but they’re the very thing giving you life in this moment.

“Law!”

He has you, all of you. You’re bound, blindfolded, and he’s working out every inch of pleasure within you. You’re completely at Trafalgar Law’s mercy. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

Your breath quickens in uneven pants, and the coil of pleasure in your abdomen begins unravelling, spreading tendrils of fire to every nerve ending in your body, awakening them with jolts of unbridled pleasure as Law increases the pressure on your clit with his thumb and curls his fingers inside you.

The unholy squelches that fill the room make your cheeks flare up as your hips grind against his hand, searching for that final push. “Law, oh, Law.”

“Come for me, sweetheart, you’ve earned it. You’re being such a good girl.” Then he presses harder and crashes his lips against yours, his tongue pulling every moan from you, claiming it as his own as your release hits you like a thunderstorm. Your body trembles violently beneath him, and Law’s fingers are relentless against you, helping you chase the pleasure, prolonging it as your soul shatters in his hands.

It’s intense, and it’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced before.

Law’s lips part from yours as you take long gulps of air, trying to ground yourself back in reality. His hand rests against your stomach as you still shake and tremble from the aftershocks of your release. You can practically feel his smug grin as he kisses your collarbone. “I told you I take what I want, didn’t I?”

You chuckle softly and inhale deeply as his hands steadily remove the tie from your eyes and then the belt holding your wrists. He massages them gently, though they don’t hurt at all, and you blink slowly to adjust to the dim light of the room.

“Hi.” You whisper with a wide grin.

“Are you alright?” Law asks, concerned, and you nod. “Good. Because we’re nowhere near done.” His unhinged smirk is back. “I told you you’d come on my fingers, on my tongue, and on my cock.” His words send another jolt through you, reminding you of the pleasure you just felt, the heat still coursing through your veins. “One down, two to go.”

You know he means it, too.

How he manages to keep himself controlled when you're a mess of numb limbs and unintelligible sentences, it’s beyond you. There mustn’t exist a thing in this world that makes Law’s control crumble in the bedroom. He’s untouchable.

“I want you, Law.” You whisper, your fingers trailing down his abs and sitting at the waistline of his pants. “Why in the world are you still dressed?” How unfair is that?

Sitting up, you bite your lower lip, gaze burning into his as your hands reach to unbutton his shirt. He lets you, helping ease it off after the buttons are undone. Gosh, you love his tattoos. You kneel as your tongue begins tracing them, deft fingers already finding the button of Law’s pants, grazing against his hard cock as he lets out a low, controlled grunt.

He helps you pull off his pants, grabs a condom from the bedside drawer, and gets rid of his socks, while he’s at it. You suck in a gasp, biting your lip to keep from moaning at the sight of the bulge in his briefs.

But he doesn’t need to hear you moan to know how much you desire him. He towers over you, leaning in and pressing you back down with that simple, commanding act. “You want me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Law.” You nod. He smirks and with a swift movement, rids you of your bra and panties. “I need you inside me. Now.” You urge him as the familiar throb of need pulses between your thighs.

“Aren’t you a needy, desperate girl?” You lay back down as he finally removes his briefs, and by all the gods - old and new - this man is devastatingly perfect. All lean, defined muscles, tanned skin and those amber eyes darkened with desire, devouring you just as you devour him.

A whimper escapes your lips as you reach forward, ready to touch him, but he stops you, hands at your wrists as he leans forward and takes your lips in his in a shattering kiss, settling his body between your legs, which you part willingly.

His tip bumps into your sensitive clit as he grinds down, and you let out a soft mewl against his swirling tongue. He draws back a little and you gasp for breath and roll your hips against him, seeking more friction, more heat, just more!

“How does this feel, sweetheart?” He whispers against your ear as his tongue traces a sinful pattern down your neck. He grinds himself against your clit one more time and you moan loudly, your slick allowing him to glide effortlessly against your pussy, throwing more kindling on the fire and stoking the flame with ease.

“Good. Perfect.” You babble between pants.

“Describe it to me.”

“Law!” You whine, rolling your hips again in a feeble attempt to get him to enter you.

“How does it feel?” His tone is clipped, though it frays at the end, hinting at a need he’s not fully showing you.

With a deep breath, you will your brain to leave the puddle of mush it has become and assemble some kind of rational thought as you focus on the sensations. “Your tongue feels hot against my skin, it prickles and–... hmm… sends shivers down my spine.”

“More.” You hear a slight crack in his voice and it’s another piece of kindling for your flame. Law’s hands slide up your wrists as his fingers entwine with yours and you gasp at the intimacy of it all.

“God, Law. You… nhgh… your cock feels so good pressed against my clit and–...” Your cheeks flare up and you close your eyes tightly as pleasure rolls through your body.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” There. It’s a tiny crack in his usual cool timbre, but it’s there. And you’re the cause. This realisation brings a different kind of warmth and you smile through your next moan while you open your eyes and get lost in his. “And now?”

He laces one hand behind your knee, lifting your leg up, aligning his tip with your hole and slowly, torturously slowly, pushes himself inside of you.

A ragged cry leaves your lips and you arch your back to meet him, but he doesn’t push any faster. “Describe.” He nearly growls, and the warmth in you spreads.

“Hmm… Law, you feel perfect. It’s…” It’s a struggle, it’s what it is. Because your brain is only screaming: More, more, more. And he wants you to describe it? “It burns! It scorches my insides, my skin, my whole being. You’re filling me up so perfectly and I–... ngh… I need all of you! And I need you fast, and hard, and–... Law!”

He barely makes it to the end of your sentence before he slams into you, bottoming out and pulling another wrenching cry from your lips as waves of pleasure ripple through you, bringing you to the brink of release almost instantly. He curses, pauses, and, as you open your eyes, you see it as clear as day: Law is losing control.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You take me so well.” A grunt escapes his lips as he shuts his eyes and his hands wander up and down your thighs. “You’re perfect for me.” His words stir a whole new range of emotions inside of you. Digging your nails into his forearm, you roll your hips at him.

“Please…”

Pulling back until he’s almost out of you, he takes barely a second to breathe before slamming onto you again. You press your nails deeper because you can feel your release overwhelming you already. The wave is cresting, ready to take everything in its path with bright, hot pleasure.

“What are you going to scream now?” He’s almost breathless as he pulls in and out of you, his hand lifting your leg, angling himself in the perfect position to brush your G-spot and hit your cervix, and it only takes him another thrust to push you to the edge again.

“Law!” You cry out his name, as he requested earlier, and he’s all you can think about anyway. He consumes your very existence to the point where you have no idea how you’ve survived up until now without him breathing life into you. The pleasure overwhelms you with intense waves that leave you a shuddering mess.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Scream my name.” He leans forward as you gasp and dig your nails into his back, pulling him closer. The grunt he releases near your ear makes you whine in need as he slows down his thrusts. His fingers are buried in your hair, and his face is hidden in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Law?” You mewl as another lazy thrust starts to build the ember inside you back to a roaring flame. He hums against your shoulder and you place your hands on his face, urging him to look at you. It’s not there anymore. The clipped and cool control he holds at all times, it’s gone, and it seems like he’s trying to get it back, trying to find his ground, the familiar instead of the new. “Law, tell me what’s wrong.”

He kisses you deeply with another roll of his hips and another lazy thrust, and you clench around him as his pelvis strokes your oversensitive nub. “You…” He begins with another grunt. “You make me lose it.” His voice is thick with need, coarse and raw, he’s barely holding on to his poised demeanour and you can feel the way his pulse beats erratically against your fingertips.

Law pulls back until he’s almost out of you, his eyes locking onto yours, dark and filled with heat capable of igniting the strongest of flames. “You have no idea what you do to me.” With another frustrated grunt, he pushes into you, slower than before, but deep, so deep that it feels like he’s touching your soul.

Your breath falters and hitches as your nails bite into his shoulders. “Then tell me.” Circling your legs around his waist, you pull him impossibly closer to you, and his hands find purchase against your hips, digits digging and pulling, afraid you’ll let go.

“You drive me fucking insane.” He nearly growls as he pulls out again, his whole body rolling over yours with his next thrust, and it almost shatters you. Heat courses through your veins with such intensity that you feel you’re about to burn from the inside out. “I can’t focus on anything else but you. Ever since you set foot into my fucking office, all I wanted was you.” He emphasises his words with another languorous thrust, pulling a gasp from your lips.

God, you’re at the brink again. His slow movements, his words, it’s all too damn perfect. “You have no idea how hard it has been to not devour you, to have to hold back because I couldn’t stop if I touched you more.” His next thrust hits deeper, harder, and he bites into the curve of your neck, clearly not holding back anymore, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it.

Your body tenses and your muscles tighten around him as another wave of pleasure crashes through you, so intense that it leaves you breathless and gasping for air. Law’s name falls from your lips between wanton moans of pleasure.

“You’re perfect, so, so perfect. I… I can’t hold back anymore.” He grunts into your neck, his hands tightening their grip on your hips as you still shudder from the aftershocks.

“Then don’t hold back, Law…” You plead between a sob of utter satisfaction and a whisper. “I’m all yours.”

“Fuck, sweatheart, yes. Yes, you are.” With heavy pants, he barely lets you come down from your high before disentangling your bodies and turning you on the mattress. Your face plummets against the pillow as he grabs your hips and pulls your ass into the air, lining himself up again, immediately. “I want to hear you scream my name again, just one more time. One more, okay?”

His hand circles your back with a soothing motion before he continues, his question bears more than one inquiry: Are you okay? Can we go on? Can you take it?

And you can go on. You can and want to take it. You want to feel him completely lose himself inside of you, you want to hear him chant your name. He’s vulnerable in a way that doesn’t stem from rawness or pain. It’s just affection and desire, and you’re already addicted.

Turning your head to the side, you nod frantically. “Yes, yes.” You don’t even think you can say anything else at this point. Law thrusts violently in and out, and you cry out, oversensitive and overwhelmed by the sensation. He’s not holding anything back, just like you asked.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Tight and wet. Just like I imagined all this time.” He grunts as he snakes a hand around your waist, pulling you up, your back flush against his chest as his fingers travel through your body and settle at your neck. His grip is tight but comfortable.

Heavens, the sensation multiplies tenfold as he reaches all your sweet spots and pounds incessantly into you. A symphony of primal grunts surrounds you both as he lets them out against your ear with every thrust. His other hand grips your hip for a moment and then circles you, pressing against your clit with a desperate move.

“Law, I’m–...” You moan out, sensing the pacing of his thrusts falter as he grips you tighter. Your pleasure is mounting up again - or maybe it never truly stopped - and you feel dizzy and blissed. “I’m…”

“I know, sweetheart, fuck. I know.” His own thrusts are erratic and sloppy as he grips your body tightly, holding on to you and to the moment with unstoppable want.

“I–...” Your bliss hits you without any kind of warning and is much more intense than before. Instead of waves, it’s almost like a continuum of pleasure that rips through you and leaves you suspended in ecstasy. Your cry stays lodged in your throat, and all you can do is shudder and ride through the sheer intensity of it all.

Law tenses, grunts, and buries his face in the crook of your neck, thrusting three more times before stilling completely against you as a torrent of curses leaves his lips, your name mingling between them. Another moan - a softer one, because you don’t have the strength for more - escapes your lips as your high subsides and only the rippling of the aftershocks remains.

You’re a mess. You can barely move, breathe, or think.

Law is still buried inside you, his forehead resting against your shoulder as your bodies tremble in tandem, breathless, both trying to come down from your highs. “Fuck, sweetheart. You wreck me.” His words elicit a soft chuckle from you as he kisses your nape and your damp hair.

“Well, you ruined me. That makes us even.” You manage to whisper, earning you a chuckle from him. Your eyes meet when you turn your face to him, and the warmth that filled your chest returns tenfold.

With a deep breath, Law pulls out and disentangles himself from you, gently settling you down on the bed, clearing the hair away from your eyes, and kissing you softly. The tenderness of his kiss matches the one in his eyes when he pulls back. “I’ve never felt this way with anyone before…” He admits as your heart clenches.

Not even Monet? The question is at the tip of your tongue, but you don’t want to ruin the moment. And he said ‘anyone’, it’s implied. So you smile softly and run your fingers through his damp hair, pulling the strands away from his beautiful amber eyes. “Neither have I, Law.”

He inhales deeply and kisses you one more time before rising. You’re still breathing heavily when he returns from the bathroom with a full glass of water for you.

A silly, blissful smile settles on your lips as you try your hardest to keep your eyes open. “Thank you.” You mumble as you sit up, wincing and predicting that you’ll be deliciously sore tomorrow, and take the glass in your hands as he sits by your side. His smile mirrors yours, which only makes you giggle more because it’s not the usual grin or the teasing smirk. It’s a genuine, loving smile.

“Bath now, or shower in the morning?”

“Hmm…” Bath with Law sounds nice, but all the muscles in your body are clamouring for sleep. “In a bit, lie here with me for a while.” You set the glass on the bedside table, already plopping down to make yourself comfortable, and Law lies next to you, immediately pulling you against his chest.

“Are you all right?” He asks, and you grin against him. He’s always so considerate of you.

“Perfect.” Your reply is very soft, but he hums and kisses your forehead with a deep sigh.

“It really was.” He complements your words, and the warmth in your chest spreads some more into a steady beat of your heart. It’s love. There’s no denying what has been built over the months since you met him. Love. Pure and unbridled.

Law rubs soft circles against your back and then threads his fingers through your hair, stilling his movements as his breaths even out. Can you say it to him?

“Law…?” He hums. “I really, really, really, really, like you.” Close enough. The amusement is there, even though he barely has the willpower to laugh. “I really, really, really, really, like you too, sweetheart.”

Tag List:@rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @rainbow2312 @alexturnersgirl

|Chapter 13🔞|

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #op #the meet cute #law x reader #reader x trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d law #law x you #you x law #reader x law #reader insert

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archived-junkissed · 2 years ago

Text

happy ending

member — husband!junhui x f reader genre — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort word count — 6.6k synopsis — a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time. warnings — female reader, planned pregnancy, there's a big argument but i tried to not make it too toxic (jun and reader have a happy & healthy relationship i promise), swearing, there is a happy ending lots of fluff !! notes — requested by anon — this has been sitting in my drafts for months bc every time i look at it i get shy and wanna change my mind but i'm proud of how this turned out so i'm posting it finally! i know pregnancy fics aren't everyone's favorite but this was honestly very comforting to write so i hope anyone who chooses to read can find comfort in it as well <3 also the last time i proofread this was like april and if i try to proofread it rn i'll get shy again and chicken out so if there's any mistakes pls ignore! i hope you enjoy :)

you sat on the bathroom floor, trying to comprehend the weight of the news you held in your hand. you couldn’t believe it. you could? you couldn’t.

after many months of trying to start a family with your husband, you had finally succeeded. the slim plastic stick with two tiny pink lines was the last piece of evidence you needed. it had been months of carefully tracked cycles, fertility doctors, and new positions that seemed too weird to actually do anything. but now, everything was finally falling into place.

you don’t know exactly how much time you spend sitting on the floor and staring at the pregnancy test; thinking, planning, and thinking some more. but when you finally stand up and place the positive test on the counter with shaking hands, it still hasn’t fully sunk in yet what’s happening. something you’d wanted for so long, and finally it was all right in front of you.

what do you do now? no— you know exactly what you need to do, and it’s a long list of things. the real question is, where do you begin?

you thought back to all the videos you’d watched over the last few weeks. somehow every social media algorithm knew exactly what you wanted to see, and it had given it to you in abundance; baby showers, gender reveals, those “get ready with me - new mom edition” videos. all getting your hopes up before you could confirm whether or not it had finally happened.

with your hopes high and expectations even higher, you were already beginning to plan how you would break the news to junhui. as your husband and your soon-to-be baby’s father, of course you wanted him to be the very first person to know, so you couldn’t wait too long to tell him. you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

maybe you’d get a little gift box and give the test to him before dinner. but, then again, it was literally a piece of plastic you’d peed on. surely you could give him… something a little nicer than that.

maybe you could buy a baby outfit and wrap it up for him. but you remembered he’d mentioned so many times about how excited he would be to pick out clothes once you got pregnant. you would want him to have the honor of picking out the very first one, going to the store together and looking through the whole section before finally settling on the perfect one.

what else was there you could do? bake a cake? make a crossword puzzle? buy him a t-shirt that says “dad-to-be”? so many ways you could do it, but none of them seemed perfectly right.

from the other room you hear the door opening, and hurriedly you stuff the test into a drawer, not wanting to tell him just yet. you need a plan first; waiting another day or two couldn’t hurt, so you’ll just have to figure out how to tell him later.

you flip off the bathroom light and stride into the hallway, barely able to contain the grin on your face. you’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets, and with news as big and exciting as this you have no idea how you’re going to be able to hide it from him for more than a minute.

but luckily you don’t have to wonder about it for long, because as soon as you see jun you can already tell he’s in a sour mood.

you know it’s usually best to let him have some time alone when he’s upset, but not for too long because he starts getting frustrated with himself and won’t stop working until he’s exhausted.

but you’re still on a high after everything today, so you decide on being a little bit sweeter to him in the hopes that your happiness will be contagious and that it’ll lift his spirits, despite what was probably a really awful day at work.

you find him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, long fingers pressed against his eyes trying to block out the light.

“hey, junnie,” you call out, sitting down in a chair next to him. “bad day?”

“yeah,” he answers shortly.

“i’m sorry, baby,” you hum, putting your hand on his shoulder, but he flinches and your hand falls away in surprise. he’s never done that before. weird. you try something else. “um, any requests for dinner?”

“not hungry.”

“alright. well, i guess i can cook up some veggies and leave them out, you can heat them up whenever you get hungry.”

he moves his hands away from his face and onto the table, sighing as he leans back in his chair. “can you just— leave me alone for a while? i’m sorry.”

you nod and stand up. “no, it’s fine. i get it. i’ll bring you some tea later then, maybe. text me when you’re feeling better.” you reach out and gently touch his hand before walking away, leaving him alone at the table.

it’s definitely one of his worser days, you note, so you retreat to your bedroom to watch more videos on your phone, trying to bring back your excitement from earlier. hopefully later he’ll be more open and you can sit down and eat something, and maybe by then you’ll have come up with a good way to tell him the news.

an hour passes and you come out of your bedroom to look for jun, having a question from one of your friends about the dinner you’d arranged to have together next week. but he’s no longer in the kitchen, so you peek your head into his office room and find him exactly where you expect him to be, trying to work himself to death.

you clear your throat before you enter, not wanting to startle him again. “hey, junnie, i know you’re in a bad mood, and i’m sorry to interrupt, but—”

“what do you want?” he snaps, never turning around from his desk. just from the way he’s hunched over his computer, he looks like the most stressed you’ve ever seen him, and your chest tightens with worry before your brain registers what he’s just said to you.

“i— excuse me?”

“i said, what do you want?” he repeats, still facing away from you.

you resist the urge to glare at him, knowing he’s probably under a lot of pressure, and you aren’t trying to add to it. “you don’t have to be rude, jun. i just came in here to double check about next weekend, minghao’s texting me.”

he finally lifts his head, slamming his hand down on the desk. “i’m really trying not to snap at you, but— jesus, you make it so fucking hard sometimes.”

you raise your eyebrows in disbelief, your voice lifting in tone. “well, i’m so very sorry to inconvenience you then, but i really don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, jun.”

“and i don’t appreciate you talking to me like i’m a child! when will you get it through your head?”

his comment stings, but you brush it off. “well, maybe if you’d just talk to me like an adult instead of throwing a fit and hiding in your office then i wouldn’t have to treat you like one!” you’re starting to get tired of how he retreats in on himself every time bad shit happens. all you want to do is let him know he doesn’t have to do it alone, and he’s just… exploding at you for no reason, so you don’t try to hide the snarkiness behind your words.

he scoffs angrily and stands up, towering over you at his full height. “oh, grow up! you’re so moody all the time and you expect me to just put up with it! as if i don’t have enough other shit to worry about, i have to worry about what you think of this and that and everything all the damn time!”

you’ve never seen him get so angry like this, and it’s almost scary how completely different this jun is from the jun you know and love. “okay, jun, fine, i’ll just—”

“no, don’t fucking “jun, fine” me. it’s like you’re doing it on purpose at this point, you act like everything is just so perfect and then when it’s not you act like it’s your job to fix everything! you can’t fix everything!”

“i said fine! just forget it, i’ll leave you the hell alone like you always want!”

he pushes past you and crosses the room in two strides, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door, his hand already on the doorknob. “i need to get some air. i’ll be back later.”

you fold your arms over your chest, trying to look unphased but inside your heart is breaking. “you’re really gonna walk out like that? you’re just gonna run away from this? real mature, junhui.”

he spins around, and the look in his eyes is cold. “if i don’t get out of this house right now i’m gonna say something i actually regret.”

and in a flash the door is slammed shut and jun is gone. you can hear his car starting up in the driveway, and seconds later everything is dead silent.

you stand frozen in front of the door, unable to move. you can’t believe it. you can’t. what just happened?

jun has never just… walked out like that.

his words ring in your ears; though your argument wasn’t very long, a lot was said in a very short time and you can’t even begin to think about how to process it as it starts to hit you all at once.

say something he actually regrets? what the hell does that mean? so he’s saying he doesn’t regret everything else, the cursing and the anger and the pointed words that were clearly meant to hurt you?

minute after long minute passes and you realize he’s not coming back anytime soon. finally you drag yourself away from the door, dropping down on the couch in a daze.

there’s never been a time where you and jun haven’t made up immediately after an argument. sure, maybe you take a little bit to cool down in your own space, but neither of you like letting the tension sit unresolved for very long. so what was it this time that made him leave without even a goodbye?

so many reasons, so many excuses, so many words you could’ve said instead. you shouldn’t have reacted like that, you shouldn’t have kept it going, you should’ve just left him alone. would that have made him stay? if you’d backed down sooner and just let him work through it on his own?

despite all the what-ifs and the doubts in your mind, your conscience won’t allow you to let him worry about everything by himself without at least offering your help. you’re a team, husband and wife, and you’ll be damned if you let him forget that. maybe you trying to help actually made things worse in the end, but at least you know you tried… right?

it’s not until you check your phone and realize that jun’s been gone more than half an hour that you finally let yourself cry. you’d been so focused on worrying about where jun was and whether he was okay that you’d barely even thought about what might happen after this.

will he just… come back and pretend nothing happened? will he come back and still be angry at you? it would almost be worse if he was calm and acted like everything was normal. would he even apologize? would you even apologize? of course you would. both of you said things that were fucked up, and you’ll be the first to admit it if it means this whole thing can be over. right now all you want is to have junhui back.

the tears keep falling but you don’t even feel yourself crying, your face rigid as the tears continue to stain your cheeks.

after an hour you force yourself to get up off the couch and move somewhere, anywhere around the house to try and get your mind off things. but you can’t erase his voice from your head, the look in his eyes as he walked out the door and the way his shoulders hunched from anger mixed with exhaustion.

you find yourself back in your bedroom and you fall onto his side of the bed, wishing you would wake up to find that this has all just been a very bad dream.

it’s after 10pm when you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand and you sit up in a panic, scrambling to see if it’s something from jun. your eyes sting from crying so much, and you blink away the remaining tears as you unlock your phone with shaking hands. your heart drops even further when you realize it is, in fact, from jun, but not the news you want to hear.

you let your phone slip out of your grasp, tumbling to the carpet with a thud. when he’d said he’d be back later you had assumed that meant he’d be coming back tonight. clearly you thought wrong.

tomorrow seemed so far away; too much time to spend alone in a house that was supposed to be filled with happy memories, but now all you felt was pain. you felt it in your chest and in your stomach and in your head and everywhere. the whole room was suffocating, heavy weight crushing down on you from every angle.

you slide to the floor and pick up your phone. you don’t text junhui back. you’re not sure anymore if he’d even read your message.

instead you type in your friend seokmin’s phone number, listening to the line ring as you wipe the back of your hand across your eyes.

as soon as he picks up, he can hear the anguish in your voice and he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong, but all you can muster up is a soft, “can i stay with you tonight?” because you can’t bear to be in this house another second without junhui.

and of course he says yes, and of course he’s immediately on his way over to pick you up. and of course he stops at mcdonald’s on the way back to his house to buy you something to eat, because you haven’t eaten and even though you don’t particularly have much of an appetite right now, seokmin would rather die than let you skip a meal, especially on a night like tonight when you could really use something to keep you going.

you throw your overnight bag on the floor of seokmin’s living room with a small sigh. in a haze you’d tossed in whatever items you thought you might need; a toothbrush, pajamas, something to wash your face with.

he gives you space for a while as he pulls out the folding bed part of the couch and brings out blankets and pillows for you to sleep with. you don’t say it, but you really appreciate his help. he’s been one of your best friends for so long, and you don’t know what you’d do without him.

you hadn’t thought about it while you were packing, but as you stand in seokmin’s bathroom you think about the cleanser you’d grabbed; your favorite one, the one jun had gotten you for your birthday last year and you’d never switched to another brand since.

every single thing reminds you of him, and you push down a fresh wave of emotion as you scrub the foam into your skin, trying to wash away all your tears.

when you’re done getting ready for bed you find seokmin in the living room with a pot of tea. he was just trying to help, but unluckily for him, he’d made green tea. it was your favorite… but it also happened to be jun’s favorite.

and this time you can’t hold back your tears, and seokmin is sitting wide eyed and bewildered, wondering why you’re crying over tea, but he doesn’t ask. he just reaches out to let you hug him, and you squeeze him so tightly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything, just lets you hug him as hard as you can and lets your tears stain his t-shirt.

it takes another half hour for you to calm down enough to talk. you’d spent the time watching whatever was on tv, not really paying attention and instead playing everything back in your mind. seokmin had just sat next to you, quietly keeping you company until you were ready.

“jun and i… had a fight,” you say finally, interrupting the commercial playing on the screen.

“i figured,” he says, offering you a comforting smile as he mutes the tv. “do you wanna talk about it?”

“i don’t know. there’s not much to talk about.” you take a shaky breath, remembering it all one more time. “we both said some awful things that we didn’t mean. at least, i know i didn’t mean them. then he just… left, and he texted that he’d come home tomorrow. that’s it.”

you don’t tell him about the pregnancy test. you’ve mentioned once or twice that you and jun had been interested in starting a family, but you’d never gone into detail about it and you weren’t going to now. you still wanted jun to be the first person to know, even though you didn’t know when that might be anymore.

you tell him about other things instead, about your day at work and your plans for the weekend. eventually you finish your tea, and seokmin retreats to his own room and shuts the door with a quiet click, leaving you alone in the quiet of his living room.

it takes you a long time to fall asleep, but soon your exhaustion catches up with you and you let yourself rest, physically and emotionally drained. at least the silence here isn’t as bad as the silence at your house.

across town in his friend seungcheol’s guest bedroom, jun can’t stop tossing and turning. he’s fucked up, he knows he fucked up, big time.

why did he leave? he shouldn’t have left. you had been absolutely right, he was running away from everything and it was stupid and dumb and immature. but in that moment all he could think about was what the next awful thing he might say to you was, and he knew if he had stayed for any longer he wouldn’t have been able to stop what came out of his mouth. he was out of control, and immediately he knew it.

not even the worst day in the world could make you deserving of all the things he said to you. you were the only thing that wasn’t bad in his life; even on shitty days like today, all you did was care about him. and all he did was hurt you.

jun barely sleeps that night, finally forcing himself out of the extra bed at dawn. he’d been too anxious to sleep, too frustrated with himself to do anything other than think about everything he did and wonder if you were okay without him.

he’d already gotten an earful from his friend last night, and he knew he was still in big trouble. the things he said wouldn’t just go away overnight. in fact, they’d probably gotten worse by leaving them to build up overnight, and again he’s kicking himself for ever leaving in the first place.

he packs up his things as quickly as he can, eager to get home and see you again. on his way out the door, he thanks seungcheol for letting him stay the night and he apologizes for bothering him so late.

“i’m not the one you need to apologize to. you better figure out how to fix this, jun.”

with a straight face he nods, bowing his head as he closes the door.

in his car, jun takes the long way home, trying to find an open grocery store. he knows it won’t make up for how he acted, but the very least he can do it buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

he walks through the aisles, basket in hand, trying to think of something else for you. maybe he’ll get the ingredients he needs to make your favorite dinner tonight; he hadn’t eaten last night, though you had offered to cook for him and he’d shot you down.

he feels another pang of guilt at the thought, remembering yet another kind gesture you’d tried to give him that he’d brushed off like it meant nothing. it meant everything to him, and in the middle of the frozen vegetables aisle he swore he wouldn’t ever do it again.

he’d taken you for granted, and he was so lucky that things hadn’t ended worse than they did. he could’ve said something truly unforgivable, or he could’ve even lost your relationship altogether. but he was still yours, and you were still his, and he would just have to work extra hard to make sure you knew how sincere he was.

he’d been a little worried that you hadn’t texted him back last night, seeing that you’d read his message but never responded. you were probably still hurt, and he didn’t blame you; still, he’d hoped you would say something back.

with grocery bags loaded full of ingredients for dinner and the special things he’d bought for you, the drive back home feels a little more hopeful.

he plans out everything he’ll do in the car. he’ll bring the groceries in and put them away quickly; it’s still fairly early in the morning, so hopefully you won’t be awake yet. he’ll arrange your flowers all nice in a pretty vase, and he’ll come in and wake you up with the best apology of his life and hopefully a really big hug. after the last 24 hours he really could use a hug, and he’s sure you could too. and then he’ll explain how sorry he is and how he didn’t mean any of it and then everything will be better again. yes, everything will be okay.

the first part of his plan goes perfectly. he sneaks into the house and when he’s met with silence he continues putting everything away, quietly so he won’t wake you up in the other room. then, he puts the flowers in a vase and with everything in place, he walks down the hallway to finally face you.

but when he twists the bedroom door handle, the bed is made and the room is empty. you aren’t there.

he frowns, leaving the room and poking his head into the bathroom, then his office. he calls your name loudly, hoping you’re just in a corner of the house and you’ll come out once you hear him. but no reply.

he goes back into the living room and sets the vase down on the coffee table, trying to think. you aren’t usually up this early, but maybe you hadn’t been able to sleep and you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you’d gone to the store to get more cereal?

a sinking feeling rises in his chest, and he walks back into the bedroom to confirm something, sliding open the closet door to check. your overnight duffel bag is gone.

he ducks back into the bathroom to check something else. your toothbrush isn’t sitting in the jar like it usually is. he slides open the bathroom drawer to check one more thing, and—

his hand freezes on the knob, staring at something in the drawer that wasn’t there before. he’s not sure it is what he thinks it is, but either way there it is, clear as day in front of him: a little white piece of plastic, sticking out from underneath a tissue.

gingerly he pulls it out, holding it up to the light to see it better. when he sees the two pink lines he nearly drops it in shock, but he stops himself, setting it gently on the counter instead.

this is something special, something precious, and he knew he had to take care of it. you’d saved it for a reason; you could’ve easily just thrown it away once you knew the results, but you had kept it instead. were you going to give it to him?

he covers his mouth with his hand, still staring at the stick sitting on the edge of the sink. it was just a cheap piece of plastic, but to him it was the most important thing in the entire world.

he deflates when he realizes you’d probably been planning on telling him last night, before he’d blown up at you. if he’d been paying attention to anyone other than himself, he would’ve noticed your mood was happier than usual, your face glowing with contained excitement. he should’ve been paying attention.

there’s a sense of urgency in his stride as he dashes around the house, looking for any other sign of you, but it’s clear you weren’t there. there were so many places you could be, he can’t even begin to think of where to look. your parents, friends, family; hell, you could even have stayed in a hotel, alone and upset. he should’ve been there. none of this should’ve ever happened.

immediately he presses the speed dial for your phone, but of course– no answer. he calls again, and again you don’t pick up. he curses, resisting the urge to slam his phone down on the table in frustration. no, he has to stay calm. that’s what got him into this whole fucking mess in the first place.

he remembers that your parents are out of town on vacation, so you probably wouldn’t have gone there. you wouldn’t have gone to a hotel because you always lecture him about the importance of saving money “just in case”, so you wouldn’t have paid to stay somewhere. your sister is still in college and shares an apartment with three other people, so probably not the best idea either.

that narrows it down to one of your friends’ houses; seokmin, who lives a couple blocks away, or joshua, who lives on the other side of town.

he figures seokmin is his best bet, so jun takes a deep breath and finds the contact in his phone.

“what do you want?” seokmin’s usually cheery voice has an edge to it today, and jun knows he’s picked right.

“is she there?” he asks anxiously.

“she is,” he confirms, and jun exhales, letting out the breath he had been holding in. “but she’s asleep still. i’ll let her know you called.”

“wait,” jun adds quickly.

the line is silent for a moment, and he’s afraid seokmin’s already hung up, but finally he gets a response. “what is it?”

"can i–are you sure? please," jun pleads. if he could just talk to you, just explain what happened and that he's so fucking sorry—

“hold on,” seokmin says, and the phone goes quiet again.

jun’s heart is in his throat as he waits for a response, and he stops when he finally hears your voice. “hello?”

he breathes a sigh of relief. “sweetheart. i’m so sorry.”

you don’t reply, so he continues.

“i’m glad you’re okay,” he starts, trying to put the right words together. “i shouldn’t have said any of that last night, and i shouldn’t have left. i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry.”

“thanks” is all you say, and he hates how small and sad your voice sounds. it’s his fault you sound like that.

“i found your test,” he bursts out, unable to hide his excitement any longer.

“oh." you pause, swallowing. "so… you know.”

“yes, i do know, baby. i’m so sorry, if i had known before—”

you cut him off, your tone suddenly rising with anger. “‘if you had known?’ so you won’t yell at me if i’m pregnant, but you’re just fine with yelling at me when you think i’m not? is that the only reason why you’re even apologizing to me right now?"

“no— fuck, no, of course not. i shouldn’t yell at you, period. and i’m not going to ever again.” jun pauses for a second, rubbing his hand over his eyes. he’s done nothing so far but make everything worse. “i really messed up, honey, and i’m sorry. i can’t say it enough. but— please, come home. i don’t want to talk over the phone.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the tears that threaten to fall again. you don’t want to cry about this anymore. “okay,” you say finally. “i’ll be home in a little while.”

“thank you,” jun says, and the way his voice breaks makes your heart sink. you can tell he feels awful about everything, and you do really, really miss him.

“…i love you," you add, changing your mind at the last second.

“i love you, too!” he says immediately. “i love you, too, honey. text me when you’re on your way.”

“i will.”

he says “i love you” twice more before you end the call. you sit in silence for a second, processing everything before you stand up off the couch and head to seokmin’s room to give him back his phone.

"can you take me home now, please?" you tell him softly, and immediately seokmin stands up and hugs you, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"of course. let me know when you're ready."

half an hour later you find yourself in the front seat of seokmin’s car once again, this time sitting nervously in his driveway as he puts your bag in the trunk for you. you're still not sure if you're ready to face jun yet, but you know you have to.

reluctantly you unlock your phone and open your text messages with jun, your eyes landing on the text he'd sent last night that had gone unreplied. with shaky fingers you type out that you're leaving seokmin’s house, and jun replies almost instantly with a long string of heart emojis.

seokmin gets into the car and starts it, and you exhale and set your phone in the cupholder.

"are you okay?" he asks, turning to look at you. "because you can always let me know if you need anything. anytime, day or night."

"i'm alright," you say, taking a deep breath. "i'm fine. but thank you, seok. i really appreciate everything."

he smiles, shifting the car into reverse. "of course. it's no problem at all."

the second he hears the car pull up outside the house, jun jumps up off the couch, smoothing his shirt down anxiously. through the window he watches seokmin hand you your bag and close the trunk, giving you one last hug before he gets back in the car. he doesn't drive away until you're at the front porch, and with a deep breath jun swings open the door, before you can even knock.

you both stand there in silence for a second before he blurts out another apology. "i'm sorry," he rushes to say. "i'm really sorry."

you give him a weak smile. "can i maybe… get in the house, first?" you ask quietly, motioning with your free hand at the doorway.

"yeah, i— yeah, shit, of course," jun says as he practically jumps out of your way, holding the door open for you to walk inside.

you set your bag on the floor by the couch as he closes the door behind you. the sound of the lock clicking seems too loud in the uncomfortable silence that settles over the room.

"can… can i give you a hug? please?" he asks, and you stay quiet but nod.

he closes the distance between you in one stride and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly and holding you close to his chest. "i'm so sorry, honey. i didn't mean any of it. i promise."

"i believe you," you finally manage, your voice a little muffled from how he's pressing you against him.

he doesn't say anything more, just holds you and holds you, and it feels so good to be home where you belong. there's a lot that needs to be said, but for right now you don't need any more words. you're just glad to be back together again.

after a while you pull your head away from him so you speak. "i'm sorry."

"why are you apologizing? you didn't do anything wrong, baby. i'm the one that needs to be apologizing."

you shake your head. "no. i said some things last night, too. granted, not as bad as you, but…"

jun breaks out into a grin at your joke, and you feel your mood start to lighten. "…which is true. and i'm sorry."

"jun, you can stop apologizing now. i get it, you're sorry. you don't have to tell me a million times," you say, trying to laugh a little.

now it's his turn to shake his head. "well, i'm going to anyway. because i am sorry." you look away from him, feeling embarrassment start to boil up, but he continues talking. "i'm serious. i'll say it as many times as it takes to make it right."

you turn your head back to him, struggling to keep a straight face. "why did you leave, jun?" you ask softly.

he takes a deep breath, and still trapped in his arms you can feel his chest expand with the breath.

"it was stupid," he says finally. "i left because i didn't want to stay and risk hurting you more. but i realize i did that anyway, by leaving. i was just… i needed some air. but i shouldn't have stayed away, and i'm not gonna do that again. i won't do it, ever again."

"i just don't want you to leave me," you manage, trying and failing to hide the crack in your voice as you feel your eyes start to well up with tears.

he hugs you tighter and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, gently smoothing your hair with his thumb. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. i'm not going to, i promise."

you don't respond, but you know he's telling the truth. the last 24 hours have been hell for the both of you, and you don't doubt he means every single "i'm sorry" he's said.

"so…" jun starts, and you tilt your head up at him.

"so?" you know what he's going to say next, and despite the excitement you had yesterday you feel yourself dreading this part of the conversation.

"you're pregnant?"

you sigh, looking down and avoiding his eyes. "yeah."

he hums. "but you don't sound excited?" he asks.

"well, i was, last night."

"i'm sorry," he winces. "do you wanna tell me now and i'll pretend this didn't happen and i don't know about it?"

you shake your head. "no, it's fine. the moment's kinda… ruined, already."

he sighs. "yeah, i know. i'm sorry i ruined it."

"i said it's fine, jun."

"no, it's not fine," he says firmly. "it's one hundred percent my fault. this is important to you, and to us, and we should be celebrating right now. last night should never have happened."

"jun, it's in the past. it was messed up, but i forgive you," you say, lifting you head to look at him once more. "it's not a big deal. we're okay now."

"i just want you to be happy about it," he says with a sniff. "we've been trying for so long, and finally…" he trails off, staring at you with watery eyes.

you smile at him. "i am happy about it, junnie. i'm so happy, you can't even believe."

"did you tell seokmin?" he asks, and his brows furrow when you shake your head no.

"no, i didn't. i wanted you to be the first i told," you say shyly. "i knew you would want to be the first to know."

"i love you so much," he says, still hugging you. he's never going to let you go, never again. "do you know how far along?"

"no, i didn't go to the doctor. probably like two or three weeks, though, if i've been counting it right."

"wow," he sighs, a smile on his face as he stares off into the distance behind you. "i can't wait."

you watch his eyes, practically able to see the thoughts running through his head.

after a while he loosens his grip around you, moving to swipe at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "well—anyway," he starts, giving you an awkward chuckle. "i bought stuff for breakfast. if you haven't had any, yet. and i'm making dinner tonight, too."

before you can even respond his eyes widen, like he's just now remembering all the things he had planned, and he lets go of you, bounding into the kitchen. he returns seconds later with a huge glass vase full of flowers, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to hand them to you. "and i got these for you, too. sorry they're not the best, it's all the store had this morning."

"junnie, if this is the best the store had, then i don't think i wanna see their best," you laugh, holding the flowers up and admiring the dozens of bright blooms. "this is gorgeous, but you really didn't need to get me anything."

"but i wanted to," he counters, still running around the room to grab the gift bag sitting by the couch. "consider it an 'i'm very sorry' slash 'congrats you're having a baby' gift."

you set the vase down on the table next to you and take the bag from him, pulling out the tissue paper and crumpling it into a ball.

"i didn't have a whole lot of time to look this morning, but i found these," he says nervously, waiting for your reaction.

from the bag you pull out a miniature plastic hanger holding a set of tiny pajamas covered in little kitties, attached to a matching set of striped orange socks.

"i wanted to be the first person to get you baby clothes," he explains as he fidgets with his hands.

"i knew you would," you smile at him, setting the empty bag and the clothes on the table along with the bouquet of flowers. "and they're perfect. they're so… you."

you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another hug. "i love all of it. thank you, jun."

he grins, rocking you back and forth in his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheek. "i love you too, baby. i missed you so much. i won't ever do that again."

"i know," you smile. "now… you promised me breakfast, isn't that right? because i'm starving. crying is exhausting."

he laughs. "no crying anymore. and i did promise you that, so tell me: do you want blueberry waffles, or strawberry?"

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littleplantfreak · 11 months ago

Note

Happy 100 followers!! For the request event, can I request the prompt "Bringing their bento to them at work when they forgot it at home?" As for the characters, I'll make that a dealer's choice! Pick between any 4-5 characters you like!

Hi foxx!!!! I kinda mixed it up a bit so they didn't sound to repetitive, but I hope you like them :D

I chose Sako, Hiragi, Suo, and Choji since I don't give them enough love.

Sako Kota

"Fujiwara, I need at least a draft of the contract by 2:00PM today or we'll have to cancel the meeting at 4:00PM." Sako sighs, his arms crossed as he looks at the paralegal, pushing down his irritation enough that he won't snap, although Sako's icy expression is more than enough to send the other man on his way in a frantic attempt to correct his mistake.

Sitting down at his desk, he checks the clock and sees it's about lunchtime. It gives the paralegal time to get the appropriate documents together, and he would never fess up to it, but he does tend to get prickly if he hasn't eaten in a while. He never fails to perk up when you make him food, and today is no different. You both usually make your lunches together, but work ran late for him yesterday, and he never got the chance. The guilt he felt was quickly wiped away when he came home to your sleepy face waiting up for him on the couch.

"Welcome home," You'd said sweetly before shuffling towards him in your slippers and pressing a kiss to his lips. "I already made us lunch, so don't worry about it and come cuddle with me, please?" The way you helped him with his coat and tugged the wrist of his shirt, leading him to your bedroom, had his shoulders relaxing and the stress bleeding out of him slow but steady. He didn't even think to check the fridge the morning after, having slept past his first alarm due to his fatigue.

Which leaves him here now, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, wondering if he's got enough time to order from one of the food places on his block and get back in time to read what will hopefully be a wonderful contract that he has to do very little editing on.

His text tone goes off, the little chime specifically chosen by you when you two first started dating.

[Look out your window, please owo)/*!]

A quick spin of his office chair has him looking down at you from the second floor. Not even bothering with his phone, he's walking down to meet you. Before he can even open his mouth, you blurt out something first.

"I didn't wanna bother you, but I realized I forgot to put it on the counter this morning," A bashful smile playing on your lips, as you try to collect yourself a bit. Sako's oncoming headache that was building up suddenly stopped like a TV being flipped off by a remote. The bento wrapped neatly in your outstretched hand felt more like treasure than lunch as he takes on the weight of it, two of his fingers slipping through the tied fabric before he settles his other hand under it for stability.

"It's not a bother; you know you can come visit whenever you want." He says, but seeing your eyebrows knit together, he's sure you're still worried about it. He places a swift kiss right where the wrinkle's formed, and he brushes it smooth with a soft swipe of his thumb before stepping back a bit, cheeks starting to heat a bit. "If you have time...we can share it in my office before lunch ends?" He says, though the end sounds more question than statement.

"I'd like that a lot," you laugh, showing him your matching box, nestled in your backpack. He doesn't spare a glance at Fujiwara, but as he walks by with you, he tells him to take his time with the draft and go for lunch. His own is going to be a little longer today.

Hiragi Toma

The hours the boxing gym Hiragi owns are later than normal. He likes being able to run his errands in the morning, and then get to the gym by 11:00 where someone will always be waiting to come in regardless of the weather. Unlocking the door, he's greeted with the sight of his lunch on the counter, and he wonders briefly if he forgot to bring it home yesterday to be cleaned, settling the keys on the ring behind his desk and walking over to it.

"Did you miss me?" You ask, poking your fingers in each side of his waist, laughing as he jerks away with a jesus christ and a groan. His arms crossed around his torso, still hiding where you've stabbed at him just in case you try for a second attack. His eyes full of betrayal at you have you gasping for breath. He forgot he gave you the spare key in case he ever needed you to open for him, which he guesses is his own fault for not considering you might use it for evil.

"You're a menace," He's grumbling, straightening up to full height.

"Yeah, but you love this menace," Your voice singsongs before adding, "this menace also brought the bento you forgot this morning, so don't you think I deserve a reward?" The cheshire grin on your face has him shuddering at what you might want your reward to be.

He's heaving out a sigh, and before he knows it, "What do you want?" comes out a bit harsher than he meant it to.

"Rude way to ask, but Ume and his girlfriend are planning a camping trip..." You trail off, already batting your lashes at him, knowing he's getting the best angle for your puppy dog eyes, though he's pretty much used to them by now. You can see the gears shifting as he thinks while he cups the back of your head and just...takes you in. Either the eyes worked wonders or he's feeling needy today, because you usually only get those eyes when you're at home.

"'s been a while since we've taken a trip, huh?" He asks, smoothing your hair down, waiting on your answer.

"Yeah...I guess it has." You say, seriously now that you're matching his energy. The last trip you both took together was months ago; both of you just got busier with work, and never planned another one. Hiragi thinks it's about time to rectify that.

"I heard one of our bands is playing in the town over next month. I'll grab tickets for it later, and," He pauses for a second to hang his head, "you can tell Umemiya's girlfriend we'll go on the camping trip too." The look lighting up on your face has him almost feeling okay, though the thought of spending a trip with Ume has his stomach tying little knots.

"Oh my god I love you so much! Enjoy your lunch. I'd eat with you, but I've got a camping brunch to attend." Tiptoeing up to kiss him proves quite easy when he's actually leaning down for you instead of teasing and saying you've gotta work harder for it. The way his hand grabs at your hip, thumb digging in slightly, tells you how appreciative he'll be for you bringing him food later tonight.

Parting from you takes more willpower than he'd thought, but he catches the mailman coming through the door in his peripheral and knows he'll only stand there gawking if Hiragi doesn't grab the mail from him. He notes how you've waited till the day of this so-called camping brunch to attack him and nearly huffs a laugh at your strategy, knowing he would've bent either way. He watches you practically skip out, turning back to wave, before walking out the door. Mail thrown on the counter, he decides his best bet is to eat while it's still quiet, knowing later in the day he'll be too busy. Maybe he'll shoot a text to Umemiya thanking him for the invite, too. Maybe.

Suo Hayato

Your phone rings as you're on the train, and you look around you before answering it, making sure to speak softly so as not to bother anyone.

"Did you forget something this morning?" Suo's voice asks coolly from the other line. You tilt your head a bit confused at the question, and he laughs. "You look like a puppy when you do that head tilt," and you huff, looking around to make sure he's not actually on the train with you.

"I hate when you do that," you pout, leaning into the speaker to hear him better. "I have my purse. My keys...I kissed you twice before I left...can I have a hint?" The hand that runs through your hair pushes it back in exasperation.

"Last time you forgot this at home, you cried in the bathroom at work." A jolt goes through you, followed by a sheepish chuckle on your end. He knows just how much you value the lunches he makes you every day, and that day had been especially stressful, building up until your forgotten lunch was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. "Your train arrives in about...8 minutes right?" he hums as if to check the clock. "I'll be at the station when you get there."

"Hayato darling...it's snowing," It's not enough to delay the trains, but it certainly isn't warm out either. The concern in your voice is apparent, and that warms him more than anything else.

"I'll make sure to warm myself up when you get here," he teases, knowing you'll understand just how he intends to warm himself up.

"Wha- fine! If you get sick, I'm calling off to take care of you this time, though." You grumble before saying your goodbyes and hanging up. He's not particularly delicate, but the last time he was sick, he insisted he was fine until you found him face first on the living room floor with an insanely high fever.

The way the cold causes his cheeks to bleed rose-red is the exact same as that time, though you can see the clarity in his eye where there hadn't been when he was swaddled up to his chin being fed soup for three days. He's holding an umbrella, his long scarf wrapped stylishly around his neck.

"Can't have you going hungry, love." Smiling, he passes your lunch over to you before stepping closer into your space, bringing you undercover of his umbrella. "Mind if I escort you to work? I have a few errands to run, so I'll take my leave from there," he says, allowing you to wrap your arm around his own. It looks like a formal way to walk with a lover, but it gives you both enough flexibility to shift here and there, looking at storefronts or the snowflakes feathering down to the ground.

You grab his hand and kiss it before he does it to you, catching him off guard for a moment before his sly smile mirrors your own. "Pretty bold of you. Is this my thanks for bringing lunch?"

"Part of it, but really I just wanted to try it. You're always doing it to me, so I wanted to see if it made your heart flutter like it does mine." Oh, there's that blatant honesty he loves so much that he'd kiss you breathless right now if he could. He's a gentleman, though, so he opts to mimic your earlier move, watching your expression change to the sweet little fluster he's used to, even though you knew he'd do it. He knows when you dig in later, you'll also make that cute face that comes every time you eat his cooking, and he can't wait to be able to see it later tonight during dinner.

Choji Tomiyama

Choji's sleep schedule is screwed. Bar tending most nights would normally be rough on a person, but he can sleep pretty much anywhere and everywhere. Your sleep schedule is only screwed every so often when you get the urge to wait up for him. His meals are kind of everywhere too, since he wants breakfast when he wakes up in the afternoon, and then has his 'lunch' right before work.

Dinner comes around 8:00 or 9:00PM, and usually he'll just order something from the kitchen before it closes, but Togame brought over leftovers earlier that you knew Choji would love. Togame would've taken it himself, had he not had a women's self defense class to teach around the time Choji would normally eat.

So here you are, wading through people laughing and pool bets being made to your left. The bar is full of people, and it's not even a weekend. You never have trouble finding your boyfriend, though, because he's always got a crowd around him. When he first started, it was a part-time thing. Something to try while he figured out what he wanted to do as a real job. But once he got the drinks down, he started making his own, and with that came a trick or two. Leading up to the present, he's doing one of his easier tricks, flipping and spinning his tumbler with a shot or two of vodka in it around his back as the crowd of already tipsy people cheer. He makes excellent tips, and is content doing this full time for the foreseeable future. You figure you can always leave his dinner to one of his less busy coworkers, but a flash of blonde in the corner of your eye darting towards you has you bracing your leg behind you waiting for impact.

Impact is quite the word for the way his body veers towards you latching on with a big oof coming from your chest as your arms wrap around him. His pretty eyes lock on to you, and he's never been happier. Usually you don't come visit because of how loud and chaotic it can get, but when you do, his energy doesn't wane for the rest of the night. The containers you're carrying in your hand register to him immediately.

"Did you eat yet?" you half-yell over the music and laughter, and he shakes his head.

"There was a bachelor party who took up most of the bar until about half an hour ago, so I didn't get to put an order in."

"Good thing Togame made extra, huh?" you grin, seeing that he knows it's his favorite dish. You've tried replicating it, and while it tastes great when you make it, Togame must have a secret to making it just that much better. You agree wholeheartedly, not competitive in the slightest when he's been nothing but wonderful to both you and Choji. Handing it over, he gives you a big wet kiss on the cheek and then goes back for the other one, longer than the first.

"I'm glad you came, even if it's just to bring me food. I missed you yesterday when you went shopping, and I couldn't see you before work," and the little hold he's got at the bottom of your shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers, has your heart doing loops in your throat.

"I guess I can stay for a few, if there's an empty stool somewhere near you..." you say trailing off when a quick peek shows every seat taken.

"Not a problem," He grins, grabbing a chair from the back and putting it close behind the bar where he works. You think you'll be in his way, but he actually works around you just fine, asking if you'll feed him whenever he makes a drink for someone. A mouthful of food and a swipe of a wet cloth across his face keeps his hands free enough to keep working while also getting his dinner in.

By the end of the night, he's actually allowed to leave early, and you walk home swinging your entwined hands as he's telling you about all the interesting patrons he's met before you showed up earlier. There's no better way you'd want to spend your night.

#mari writes #wind breaker x reader #sako kota x reader #hiragi toma x reader #suo hayato x reader #choji tomiyama x reader #ough its 1:30 sorry if there's typos or grammar #i tried to edit it but im sooo eepy #i forget if i said sako's a lawyer in this #and suo's a househusband #cause i keep hearing yakuza suo and im like....#way of the house husband au for suo when #oh sorry if they're ooc like i said i dont write them much...

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