#at least for me personally to do anyone can spend money however u want I am not judging lolol
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Preordered the revised ABM ebook AND the physical copy so I can actually read the ebook and but also display the physical book on my shelf to prove that I read a real book lol
#I love owning physical copies of books I read as ebooks#I know effectively buying a book two different times is kinda wasteful but like#if I just read the ebook and don’t have a physical#I feel like I just read a nonexistent online thing#the physical copies make it feel more real lol AND it’s cool to see how big the physical book is and be like#heck yeah! I read all th at!#oh but while I think it might be a bit financially unwise to buy books twice#if they’re by big popular authors#at least for me personally to do anyone can spend money however u want I am not judging lolol#but I completely justify buying ABM 4 separate times because indie authors need support!!#I adore Rafael’s work so much and I want to support him as much as I can lol#anyhow#chatterbun#abm#angels before man
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the shakespeare exhibit - part 1
pairing: tara carpenter x reader
summary: in which tara finds herself in a weird place in the museum
warnings: none
word count: 1700+
author's note: this was a request (find here)! hope u guys enjoy :D the english major in me really popped the fuck out in this one 🤭
next part
Spending a rainy Sunday in the Museum of Modern Art was far from what Tara wanted to do, but she had been outvoted by the rest of her friends, all of whom thought that it would be fun (well, all but Chad, who wanted to stay in and have a movie marathon).
She found herself wandering aimlessly through the halls, glancing this way and that at different exhibits, though nothing really piqued her interest. Sam and Danny had escaped to the Egyptian gallery, Chad and Ethan were exploring the gift shop, Mindy and Anika had rushed off on their own almost as soon as the group walked through the front doors--if Tara had to put money on it, she would guess that they were making out in the bathroom--and Quinn was flirting with the ticket booth guy.
Tara pulled her phone from her back pocket.
Tara (3:46pm): can we go soon im bored
Sam (3:48pm): Danny and I are only halfway done!
Chad (3:49pm): anyone got some extra cash??? really want this weird t-shirt
Ethan (3:49pm): i got u buddy
Mindy (3:51pm): fh2p9hr2$!8tn
Sam (3:51pm): Mindy, what?
Mindy (3:52pm): sorry butt text
Mindy (3:52pm): me and nika r busy
She huffed when no one in the group chat seemed to be on the same wavelength as her and shoved her phone back in her pocket, continuing her shuffling. She wasn't even sure where in the museum she was, and she didn't really care.
Or, at least, she didn't care until she heard that voice.
"And here we have a painting depicting the celebration that occurs in the beginning of one of Shakespeare's earlier plays, Titus Andronicus."
Tara looked to her right, where the voice was coming from, and was met with a large sign that read Pop-Up Shakespeare Exhibit! She frowned. Shakespeare? she thought. Seriously?
"Now, this celebration is quite important to the rest of the play as..."
The voice was luring her in. Okay, maybe I can dig Shakespeare.
She wandered into the room, eyes flitting around as she searched for the person that the voice belonged to. Instead, she was met with numerous paintings of different scenes from Shakespeares' plays, or people that influenced him or were important during his time period.
And why the fuck is this man so iconic? she thought as she quickly scanned over each painting, finding nothing extraordinarily special about them. This shit is boring.
Still, she ventured farther in, determined to find the reason she had entered the exhibit in the first place. She wasn't, however, paying much attention to her feet or the paces in front of her, and the next thing she knew, she had bumped into someone else.
"Oh, sorry," she said.
"It's okay! That's my bad!" you replied, and Tara's eyes widened as she glanced in your direction. You were the voice that she was trying to find, and now that she had found you...well, she wasn't really sure what to do.
Honestly, she hadn't expected you to be so, in layman's terms, hot, and she could feel herself blushing up to her ears as she stared at you, awestruck and nervous and itching to talk to you all at once.
You offered her a wide grin and gestured toward the painting the two of you had ended up in front of. "Big fan of King Lear?" you asked.
Tara glanced at the painting. Two men stood in a vaguely grassy area, one old and the other younger. The older one had his arms thrown out, and despair was clearly controlling his emotions. The younger one was simply standing back and watching. What the fuck is this shit? she thought before realizing that you were awaiting her response.
"Yeah, definitely!" she lied. "It's probably my favorite Shakespeare play."
You furrowed your eyebrows. "Really? You strike me as more of a..." You trailed off as your eyes flitted down her body, taking her in. Tara gulped. "I would say Twelfth Night kind of girl."
Tara shrugged. "Well, I can be surprising." She pointed lamely at the painting. "Besides, I love history plays."
"Oh!" You raised your eyebrows as your eyes widened, and you chuckled. "King Lear isn't a history; it's a tragedy."
"Right! I--That's what I meant," she rushed out, trying to backtrack. "But, I mean, couldn't all of Shakespeare's plays technically be histories? They're all old."
You giggled, and Tara found that she liked that sound even more than she liked your voice. "That's not really how it works." You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and glanced at the watch on your wrist. "If you want, I could give you a tour through the exhibit and explain some of the plays to you. My next group isn't coming for another hour."
I would rather Ghostface pop out of one of these paintings and attack me than have these boring-ass plays explained to me. She wanted to say that--god, did she want to--but you were looking at her with a soft smile and even softer eyes, your hands buried in your back pockets as you shifted on the balls of your feet, and her reply was tumbling from her lips before she could stop it.
"That would be great!"
* * *
You were only halfway through the exhibit, talking about some lady named Portia who could only marry the man that chose the correct casket--how fucking stupid, Tara thought--when you turned to her, a pitiful smile pulling at your lips.
"You find this boring, don't you?" you asked, though there was no judgment in your voice. If anything, Tara could detect a hint of teasing.
She shook her head. "No, no. Portia and Bassanio and caskets are all very...interesting." When you tilted your head at her, your eyes sparkling with disbelief, she sighed in defeat, allowing her shoulders to slump slightly. "Yeah," she admitted, "it's kind of boring."
You shrugged half-heartedly, a crooked smile on your lips. "That's okay. Shakespeare's definitely not for everyone." You looked back at the painting you stood in front of. "I mean, even I hated half the plays when I first read them."
"Then why are you a tour guide for this exhibit?"
"Money," you confessed. "I'm a broke college student who has tuition to pay for. Plus, I've read all of these plays ten times over, so I know them pretty well."
Tara wrinkled her nose. "Why would you subject yourself to that?" she asked. "I couldn't even imagine reading these plays once, let alone"--she gestured in the air--"as many times as you've read them."
"I'm an English Lit. major, so it's kind of my thing." You sighed in a dreamy sort of way, and Tara couldn't help as her eyes flitted down to your lips, her tongue dragging across her bottom one. She quickly shifted back to your eyes when you looked at her. "But it's not everyone's thing. I get it."
She frowned. "Sorry if I, like, wasted your time."
You waved her off. "Don't worry about it. I like talking about the plays, and if anything I said in the last fifty minutes got through to you, then I did my job."
Tara nodded. "Oh, it definitely did. Yeah, I learned so much about Shakespeare today," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
You chuckled. "Sure you did."
She took a deep breath in and then rushed out, "If I could prove to you that I learned something, would you let me take you on a date?" She watched as your eyes widened in surprise before being narrowed by the smile that took over your face.
"Okay," you agreed. "I'll ask you a question, and if you can answer it, then I'll give you my number. How's that?"
"Yeah," she said, grinning. "That works."
You glanced around the parts of the exhibit that you had taken Tara through, and she watched as you thought for a moment, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration and your hand scratching at the side of your neck.
"Oh!" you said after a minute. "I've got it." You turned to her, a wicked smile on your face. "In Twelfth Night, what's the name of Viola's brother?"
Oh shit, Tara thought. I should've listened harder when she was talking about that play. But it's not my fault she looked so cute when she was talking about the different theories of human gender.
She blinked at you, trying to come up with the name, or, frankly, any name that you had mentioned during your little tour. You waited patiently, watching her as the gears turned in her head.
Orsino? No, no--that's the Duke. Was it Cesario? Toby? Malvolio? None of those. Oh! It was--
"Sebastian!" she practically yelled.
You giggled at her enthusiasm and pulled the pen from your front pocket. As you clicked it open, you said, "I guess you do listen." You took her arm, pushed up her sleeve so that you had enough skin to write, and jotted down your number on her forearm. She looked at it when you were done, blushing at the sight of a poorly-drawn heart at the end. "Text me, yeah?"
"Totally," she breathed out. "Yeah, I'll do that. For sure."
"Okay." You glanced at your watch. "My next tour's starting in, like, a minute, so I've gotta run." You quickly looked around the exhibit and, upon finding no one near, leaned close and pressed a short kiss to her cheek. "Bye!"
Tara was left in the center of the Shakespeare exhibit, watching as you walked back toward the entrance, with a burning cheek and butterflies stirring in her stomach. She looked at the portrait on her right.
"Shakespeare, you're not good for much, but apparently you're good for getting cute girls' numbers," she muttered.
bonus: "so, what exhibits did you go to, tara?" sam asked as the group sat in a little coffee shop down the street from the MoMA.
"uh, the shakespeare one," tara mumbled.
everyone's eyes widened. "what?" came the resounding reply from all of her friends.
"you hate shakespeare," mindy stated.
"yeah. when they tried to teach us about it in senior year, you literally left the classroom," chad said.
"why the hell would you spend all your time in a shakespeare exhibit?" sam asked, furrowing her eyebrows at tara.
anika reached over and pulled at tara's shirt sleeve, revealing the numbers hidden beneath. "i think that might be why."
tara groaned as everyone started talking over one another, asking questions (sam) and squealing (quinn and mindy) and grumbling (chad and ethan).
"god," mindy started when everyone was finally quiet, "you are so gay, t."
#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter#tara x reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#scream 6#scream 5#museum tara
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Please write about a nb hero who is big on "not owing anyone money" and "its my problem and weight, let me carry it" and "please let me pay u back" and "its your money even if you spend it on me"
And a nb snarky millionaire (by evil methods) villain who is obsessed with their hero and is like "let me spoil u bbg" and *casually throws money around for hero* and very big on "I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR U" but hero is too fucking dense to actually believe rhe villain.
this snippet completely spiraled out of my control (as most things do).
It all started with that damned news article. In hindsight, perhaps the hero shouldn't have been as forthcoming as they were. But, they wanted the world to know that the life of a hero wasn't always glamorous. They just... didn't expect for the journalist to capitalize on the single remark they made, the single huff of laughter they let out when asked about the wages. Days later, when the article released, the hero was stunned.
Heroism: A Thankless Job
The hero remembers the dread coiling in their chest as they opened the newspaper to find the article, apprehension increasing as they digested the information. That picture of their apartment complex... they don't remember consenting to release that information. Granted, the journalist kept them as a nameless, anonymous hero. But, it wouldn't take a huge leap in logic to connect the dots—to find the building's tenants and cross-reference those names with the hero agencies nearby. The hero just hoped an average reader wouldn't take the incentive to do something like that. They spent the rest of that day struggling to keep their paranoia at bay. It took them a while to fall asleep that night.
Fortunately, they slept well and their anxieties seemed to fade. The hero stumbled through their morning routine and opened their front door an hour later, ready to greet the day, only to nearly trip on a package. They had frowned and taken the package inside, unable to shake the recognition that they hadn't ordered anything to be delivered. Upon opening the package, they found a single unmarked envelope. Their jaw had dropped to the floor once they found the bills inside—an amount more than their typical paychecks.
Little did the hero know, this would be far from the last time they received an unmarked package with a far too generous, entirely unexplained gift inside. At first, the gifts were just small things: a collection of medical grade bandages and antiseptic, a new sweater after they spilled coffee on theirs at work, a care package with things like cough medicine and tissues that appeared the day they got sick. The hero was still profoundly uncomfortable with the idea of some mysterious benefactor providing them with these things, but at least the packages were small. The magnitude of the first gift hadn't been matched since, and the hero couldn't help but feel grateful.
Amidst their hero work and their daily life, the hero found their mind quickly returning to the question of their gift-giver's identity. It had to be someone they interacted with fairly often, considering the far too accurate timing of several of the gifts. One time could be dismissed as a mere coincidence; a box of cough medicine a mere hour after they found themself bedridden, however... That is an entirely different story.
The gifts continue, but, thankfully, they are small in scale. The hero still feels horribly guilty about being entirely unable to pay this person back, but there's almost nothing they can do. Their benefactor clearly doesn't want to make themself known, and that's fine. Really, it is.
Until there is another envelope. This time, their mystery patron doesn't bother concealing their gift within a package. Instead, the hero opens their mailbox to find an unmarked burgundy envelope. Dread coiling in their chest, they look around—foolishly hoping that their gift giver would somehow have a change of heart and decide to show themself—before heading back inside. The hero sits on their sofa and takes a deep breath, before opening the envelope with care.
What they see is enough to make their hands tremble and their grip falter, allowing the envelope to slip down to the floor. They hold their present in disbelief.
It's a check—for more money than they could possibly fathom having. This sum is so large that the hero wouldn't have to work another day in their life. They would be able to live comfortably without earning so much as a single penny on their own.
The thought sickens them. "I can't accept this," the hero breathes aloud. They look down at their apartment's hardwood flooring as if it will give them the answers they're looking for.
"I don't recall asking you to." The hero jumps, looking up to find the villain standing before them. How they got there, the hero doesn't have the faintest idea. They blink at them for a moment, wondering how they didn't connect the mysterious gifts to the villain sooner. Their enemy has always had access to extremely high-tech weaponry and state of the art medicine (judging from their utter lack of scars despite their numerous fights); not to mention, they've had an inexplicable disregard for finances for as long as the hero can remember. It's all beginning to make sense now.
The villain takes a step closer and the hero remembers their remark. "I'm serious," they say with a frown. "Why are you doing this? Do you want me to owe you? ...Is that what this is? Want to, I don't know, kick me while I'm down? You're such a good person, helping the needy." The latter statement is spoken with venom.
"No, of course not," The villain argues.
"Then why?" The hero repeats, the volume of their voice rising as they get more frustrated. They take a deep breath and clench their fist at their side. They're still holding the check in their other hand, and despite the fact that it's nearly weightless, they can feel a pressure pushing their hand down. "And, more importantly, how in the hell did you get this much money?" The hero hears themself ask.
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to," the villain says lightly. There's a darkness to their eyes that suggests the hero should cease this line of questioning. They take another deep breath.
"You're assuming I'll just... accept this," the hero realizes aloud. That familiar itching feeling is rising to meet their skin, and they're becoming less convinced that they should stop it.
"Perhaps."
The hero blinks at them once, twice. The villain refuses to break eye contact; their gaze almost urging them to do it—to use their powers to turn the check to ash. The hero gives into the flames prickling along their skin and summons their fire in the palm of their hand. It will only take a moment, maybe two, for the bottom of the paper to char. From there, it will only be a matter of time. The hero watches in anticipation.
...But nothing happens.
"Did you really think I'd be foolish enough to give you a check you could just burst into flame?"
The hero stares ahead blankly, their ears ringing. The villain's expression blurs into a twisted smile. A figment of their imagination or reality? The hero hears their breaths, ragged and half-panicked in their ears.
"I don't understand," the hero repeats hollowly. They don't understand anything that's happening—anything that happened that led them to this very moment, standing before the villain and holding a check that their enemy gave them.
"You don't have to understand," the villain says, crossing their arms over their chest. "I'm not asking you to understand. Hell, I'm not asking you to do anything. I'm ordering you to cash this check."
The hero's tongue is ironed to the roof of their mouth. Even if they desired to speak, they don't think they'd be able to.
The villain notices their speechlessness and sighs. "I didn't want things to come to this, but..." They break off. "As I predicted, you're stubborn as hell, and self-sacrificing to a fault." The hero doesn't have the energy to be offended or outraged.
"So," the villain drawls, their arm falling to their side quickly. The hero blinks and they're suddenly being held at gunpoint. "Go to your bank. Now." The hero suspects the weapon is more than a gun—and they don't care to find out just what it can do. It appears they really have no choice. The villain is forcing their hand.
An hour later, the hero is walking out of the bank with sunken shoulders. "There," the villain says, clapping a hand on their shoulder and leading them out of the building. "That wasn't so hard, now, was it?" Upon closer examination, the villain's weapon is nowhere in sight—as if it simply vanished in thin air. The unlikely pair walks down the street and heads back to the hero's car. The hero ignores the domesticity of it all, securing their seatbelt over themself. The villain doesn't seem keen to wear their seatbelt, so the hero reaches across and buckles their rival's seatbelt for them before they can object.
"I'll transfer the money back to you tomorrow," the hero announces as they're driving down the street, back towards their apartment. Their eyes are locked on the road, yet they somehow know that the villain's gaze is fixated on them with frightening focus.
"We both know you won't," the villain hums with certainty. The hero hates that they're right, hates that their rival can read them so damn easily. Their hands tighten around the steering wheel and the rest of the ride is suffocated with a horrible silence.
When the hero arrives back home, they can't shake the realization that the villain seems deeply pleased. They say as much to their enemy, who hums.
"Of course I'm pleased," the villain says, "If I knew this was all it would take to get you to accept a much-needed gift, I would've done it eons ago."
The hero takes a deep breath, struggling not to cry. It's been a long day, and they're reaching their limit. "I think you've humiliated me enough today," they announce. "Can you leave?" Please, the hero thinks to themself.
"I suppose," the villain sighs dramatically. They take one step to the door, then another. Just before their hand can clasp the doorknob, the hero feels one last objection fall from their lips.
"That money could go to far more deserving people and causes," the hero chokes out. They're choking on their own pride, choking on the simultaneous acknowledgment that they need money and the horrible knowledge that almost no one in their situation has an out like the one they were just presented with.
The villain turns around to face them, clearly moments away from rolling their eyes. "Do I look like a philanthropist to you?" The hero shakes their head, their throat burning. Their enemy nods in confirmation and turns back around. They twist the doorknob and tug the door open.
"You deserve nice things, you know." The villain's parting remark is murmured so quietly that the hero convinces themself they imagine it. The hero watches their front door close and waits a few moments before locking it. They turn around, their back to the door, and slide down to the ground with their head in their hands.
©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.
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#defectivehero#hero x villain#heroes and villains#millionaire villain#poor hero is going through it#and the villain is there the entire time#yikes#angst#hurt/comfort#sort of but not really#emotional whump#yeah sure we'll call it that#writing#writeblr#short fic#snippet#writers on tumblr#spilled ink
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hi auntie nat sorry about this but like. would u break up with your bf if you saw he literally paid for porn/onlyfans like at least 2-3 separate times. lol
Couple of things to first figure out: 1) have you ever talked about porn? 2) are your finances completely separate and does this affect YOUR life at all like can he now not afford things he planned to do because he paid for content of a sexual nature lol? 3) how’d you find out about it? 4) why does he pay lol. This is possibly the most important one. Let me expand on all of this a bit.
Have you talked about porn because it’s pretty normal to watch porn and unless it’s a previously established boundary then it’s not a problem idk. My partner and I share cool porn we’ve found with each other (sometimes we watch together, sometimes if we were wanking and found something cool we show the other person). We don’t know every video the other person watched but it’s also not a secret that we do watch. Obviously if he were buying any sex stuff out of shared money or money that were bookmarked for something specific then that’d be a problem. That’s just irresponsible and rude. But if it’s his money then idk lol I don’t count his money tbh 🤷🏻♀️ and I expect reciprocity on that. Thirdly, if it’s separate money then the only way you could know is if you tbh snooped and that’s not a good start for the convo. Fourthly, some people prefer to pay because it’s more ethical that way like then they’re paying the creators. Other people pay for OF to get engagement with the girls which is weirder and not something I’d be totally comfortable with unless we’d discussed it beforehand. So I’d want to know WHY he paid ykwim like was it just his way of paying the creators/showing appreciation for the product or was it for personal engagement with the girl which I’d tbh find personally weird and a bit cheaty idk. Delusional af lol but also cheaty. Like if you need to pay for the girl to talk to you that’s like… a bit sad lol and a weird thing to do in a relationship. But if you just subscribed and sent her a tip because her content got you off then that’s actually probably the more moral thing to do.
In summary, unless this was a violation of previously decided upon boundaries, I wouldn’t break up with anyone over it. I would, however, bring it up to try figure this shit out a bit more. In as non judgmental a way as possible because if I snooped like the problem is me - you didn’t discover a sekrit girlfriend, you discovered a weird thing he spends (presumably his) money on 🤷🏻♀️
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Do not be harsh on yourself
Hello everyone. After reading through this sub I created this account just to vent and tell everyone this, so will delete it later. Sorry if it's too long. Was diagnosed at 17 y/o on both eyes. Had intracorneal ring surgery. I've spent over 30k on treatment and other things, and let me just say the country I live isn't the best for medical support, and my never-ending financial struggle doesn't help either. So it's pretty bad. Losing the ability to read properly, not being able to recognize people outside, random headaches, the urge to scratch the eyes, also not being able to continue in my dream career because I can't stare at a computer screen for too long. I'm 21 y/o now, and although I consider myself a positive person, sometimes it's just... frustrating. Kind of a torture. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad, every situation is different. I don't really have any social media, and sometimes I feel lonely. Trying to have meaningful conversations with people is often exhausting, but I keep doing it. I keep working out, helping others, focusing on my job. But recently I kinda got it. I won't be hard on my mind anymore. I will allow myself to fail, and I'll try to not being too bothered with my mistakes. Not saying I will stop caring if I'm acting and doing things well, I'll still do my best in everything, but I'll no longer bury my head inside a dark hole of doubts, sadness and fear every time I can't do a perfectly normal activity without feeling pain in my eyes. I want you to do that too. So, is it unfair? Yes. but I often asked myself why. Didn't know what I did wrong to deserve all this. However, that's what happens with lots of people, with different diseases and disorders. It is just not fair, and that's it. It is a torture, so I'll just accept it and do everything I can to make it less painful. The money spent, the money you will have to spend, the people that don't understand your situation, the doubts about if a procedure will be successful, the agony of not being able to BE a functional individual. Swear, all those things can make a person's smile fade away. I recommend you to continue, but if you can't, that's ok. I'll never criticize you for trying. Distract yourself with things you like and still can do, at least that's what I'm constantly trying to do. We can not be too harsh on ourselves. I don't have many people to talk, so I'll stick around here for a while if anyone wants to have a conversation about it. I'm not a therapist, though. Thank you all. submitted by /u/StatisticianWhich687 [link] [comments] https://www.reddit.com/r/Keratoconus/comments/1drmop8/do_not_be_harsh_on_yourself/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr
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kiss and make up
- multiple characters
⤷ atsumu, sakusa
genre: (an attempt at) angst to fluff ; established relationship, timeskip
synopsis: in which you have an almost relationship-ending argument
word count: 2.1k total - about 1k each
warnings: fighting (obv), being called a burden, the boys are kinda mean but they make up for it i swear
- a/n: tbh i was kinda getting sick of writing just fluff so i wanted to spice it up a lil! if this sucks i’m probably going to stick to fluff fics but i think it should be fine? this one also only has 2 characs cause idk how i would be at writing angst LMAO if this does well enough i’ll post the one i have written w kuroo and iwa <3 but i feel like this kinda sucks so oh well
- thank u @kybabi for beta-ing <3
- miya atsumu
you n atsumu have been together since high school which is why you’ve always been inseparable
you went to the same college & moved in together right after, but once he got his job with the jackals, he insisted that you didn’t work and focused on getting your master’s degree
you reluctantly agreed, if only to be able finish & earn your phd soon after
because atsumu is always busy, it’s kinda become commonplace for you to do the chores around the house- like doing the laundry or washing the dishes or cooking dinner for him
but it’s gotten to the point where he expects it
atsumu sighs, unlocking the door to your shared apartment. today’s practice was rough, it was a day of hard conditioning and bad sets and he wanted nothing more than a good meal and to cuddle. the first thing he noticed when he walked in was the mess. instant ramen bowls were scattered everywhere, empty coke cans and dirty napkins were all over the floor, and there you were, in the eye of the hurricane. the second thing he noticed was that there was no homecooked meal.
surprised, he walks into the dining room to see you, furiously typing away at your laptop with four different books surrounding you. you hear his footsteps and look up.
“hey baby! how was practice?” you ask with a smile
atsumu grunts in reply and gestures toward the kitchen, “so.. what’s for dinner babe?”
your eyes widen, “oh shoot! i’m sorry, i was so busy studying for this final that i forgot to cook. do you mind-“ you stop when you see him roll his eyes and head out.
“um, where are you going? you just got home?” you ask, following him.
“out. i have to get food somehow” he replies, “especially because my useless s/o can’t cook a goddamn meal for me” he mutters under his breath
you stop in shock because did he really just say that?
“i’m sorry, i don’t think i heard you right.” you start but he interrupts you
“i said, i have to go get food because someone is too busy to cook a goddamn meal. what do you even do anyways- well, besides spend my money? the least you can do is cook for me, god.” he finally turns to look at you but he feels his heart stop at the look on your face.
not wanting to escalate the situation any further, you try to calm him down, “tsum, hey, i’m sorry i forgot to cook okay? this is my last final before the year ends and i just can’t afford to fail it, so i’ve been studying all day. if you come back to the kitchen, i’ll make you something, okay?”
“i don’t want to eat your half assed attempt at a meal, y/n. the whole point is that you couldn’t get off your ass for an hour to cook when i make the money, i paid for the apartment, hell, i’m even paying for your school! is it really too much to ask for you to stop being such a burden and cook and clean everyday?” he fumed.
you gape at him, shocked that he would even say that. to hell with not escalating things
“at least i want to do something more with my life than hit balls around and retire at 35” you hiss, “and i do everything in this house! i do the laundry, i clean the bathroom, i cook - i do all the things you refuse to. and do i complain? no. i offered to get a job but you refused.”
you turn around to grab your laptop and your textbooks, “just- just do whatever the hell you want to, atsumu.” and with that you walk out the door.
atsumu’s heart drops when he realizes that you actually left. sure, you’ve had arguments here and there, but you’ve never left. he pulls out his phone to call you when he sees you’ve left yours on the counter. knowing there’s nothing to do but wait at this point, he begins to clean up and calls osamu over.
-
it’s already 3 am when you walk back into your apartment, and you blink multiple times when you open the door. it’s ... clean? you’re sure it was a mess when you left, so how would it be clean? you sigh, too tired to think about it more and walk into the kitchen. your eyes widen at the sight. not only is your favorite food on the stove, but there your boyfriend is, asleep on the dining table. you smile slightly, well that explains things.
“ ‘’mu, hey, wake up babe.” you kiss him lightly and shake him.
he grunts and sits up, “baby! i’m so so sorry for what i said. you are in no way, shape, or form a burden, i have no clue why i said that. today’s practice was just really tiring, but i know i shouldn’t have taken it out on you. just please-” he sighs, “just please don’t leave me again.”
your heart breaks your teary eyed boyfriend. “shh, of course baby. i’ll never leave you again okay?” you say, tugging on his arm, “cmon babe, let’s go to bed, okay?”
“mm okay my love.” he replies and practically pulls you into bed. “i love you, okay?”
“i love you too baby.” you reply
“to the moon and back?” he asks
“yeah, and to infinity and beyond.” you reply, your lack of sleep hitting you hard
“oh, i didn’t know i was dating buzz lightyear”
you let out a loud laugh and just like that you both fall into the same routine, love radiating off both of you in waves.
- sakusa kiyoomi
dating sakusa was,, challenging
it definitely took him a while to get comfortable with you
so you guys have been dating for a couple years now, and at this point he’s def clingy
however there still moments when he reverts to his old self
this just happened to be one of those times
“OUT! AND JUST LIKE THAT, EJP RAIJIN TAKES THE WIN AGAINST THE BLACK JACKALS!”
the stadium is silent before the ejp cheering section erupts in cheers. you stay silent, watching your team below. you watch as sakusa stills, still in disbelief. you make your way down, practically sprinting to your boyfriend.
he sees you on the sideline and makes his way over to you. you put on your biggest smile and attempt to make him feel better.
“you did great, kiyo! you’ll get them next time, yeah?” you beam, knowing how hard he’s been training to beat his cousin
he eyes you warily, not knowing what to say.
usually, sakusa gets pretty clingy after games, so you you move to give him a hug.
“don’t touch me” he barked, jerking away from you. “if you hadn’t been distracting me, we would’ve won.”
you stare at him, refusing to let the tears flow. you both turn when you hear a certain setter yelling at the opposing middle and you sigh.
“um, okay then. i’ll see you at home, yeah?” you ask
sakusa merely nods and makes his way over to his teammates. you look around to see if anyone saw what just happened and you lock eyes with your boyfriend’s cousin, who walks over.
“congrats on the win komori! you guys did so well!” you cheered
“thanks, y/n! and i’m sorry about kiyoomi. i’m sure you know he gets that way sometimes.” he explains
you smile and shake your head, saying that you’re used to it and you both bid your farewells. as you walk out of the stadium, you think back to how your boyfriend, the one person you loved with everything you had in you, utterly embarrassed you in front of his whole team. before you know it, silent tears start streaming down your face.
you enter your home and immediately rush to the bathroom. you draw yourself a bath and make some dinner while waiting. you assume that kiyoomi wouldn’t be home to have dinner with you anyways- and now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time you had dinner together. after you finish your bath and eat your dinner, you decide to wait up for boyfriend and watch a couple episodes of your favorite show to pass the time.
-
kiyoomi walks into his apartment at around 1 am, completely and utterly exhausted. he kicks his shoes off and drops his bag on the floor. The rustling rouses you from sleep and you sit up.
“hey kiyo” you say with a yawn, “where’ve you been all night?”
sakusa ignores you in favor of getting ready for bed and you frown when he brushes past you.
“kiyo, babe, what’s wrong? you’ve been ignoring me all night and i-” you start but he interrupts you before you can finish.
“god, just shut up, y/n. can’t you tell i don’t want to talk to you right now? i’ve already had the worst day, i don’t need you making it any worse.” he snaps
"kiyoomi, look, i understand you’re upset but you shouldn’t take it out on me.” you reason, reaching out towards him, “listen, i’m here if you wanna-”
“i said, do not touch me.” he seethes. “you are so fucking clingy y/n, lord, let me breathe a little.”
with those words, you explode. “you know what, sakusa,” he flinches when he hears his last name come out of your mouth, “i think i have the right to want to spend some time with my boyfriend! i haven’t seen you in god knows how long- you leave before i wake up and i fall asleep in an empty bed. i’ve been working my ass off to get some time off to watch your stupid volleyball game and what do you do? you embarrass me in front of your whole team!”
you sigh, wiping away the tears that continue that continue to fall. “listen, i don’t want to fight right now. i’m going to go stay at a friend’s house for the night, alright? i’ll see you tomorrow” you say, grabbing your purse. “if you’re even home tomorrow,” you add under your breath.
sakusa is in shock. the moment he saw your tears start to spill, he felt an undeniable and unrelenting ache in his chest that only seemed to grow with every work that came out of your mouth. and when the door shut? sakusa fell on his knees, his heart dropping. he truly couldn’t believe he said that to you. now all he had to do was wait till you got home.
-
2:38 pm - you check the time on your phone before pulling out your keys. you hope you made the right move, choosing to come back home while kiyoomi was still at practice. you open the door and the sight causes your eyes to widen.
there, on the couch with your favorite flowers in hand, is your boyfriend. he hears the door open and stands up abruptly.
“y/n, my love, i am so sorry. i truly cannot express how horrible i feel, and i cannot begin to understand how you feel.” he takes a deep breath, seemingly holding back tears. “i- i do love you. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. i know i’m not the best at expressing it, but you mean the world to me- no, you are my world. without you, i don’t know what i would do. so please-” his voice cracks, “just, please give me another chance?”
you run towards your boyfriend, practically tackling him. “kiyo, baby, of course. i love you too, you know? you just can’t do that anymore, yeah? you shouldn’t feel like you have the right to embarrass me just because you had a bad day. and please, don’t call me clingy? i know i do stick to you like glue sometimes, but that’s just because i never see you anymore.” you reply.
“that will all change, darling.” he answers sincerely, “i’ll make more time for you, i swear. in fact, i’ll take the week off, how does that sound?” at the sight of your smile, he relaxes.
“that sounds wonderful, yoomi.” you answer
sakusa feels the weight that’s been dragging him down lift and he realizes the effect you have on him- you’re his breath of fresh air. he also realizes how utterly idiotic it was to push away the one person who could make him feel better.
it’s fine, he reasons, he’ll just never make that mistake again. he swears it.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu angst#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu oneshot#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu fluff#hqradiostation#atsumu headcanons#atsumu drabble#miya atsumu#atsumu scenarios#atsumu angst#atsumu x reader#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa fluff#sakusa hcs#sakusa x reader#hq sakusa#sakusa imagines#sakusa angst#all my love - signed; isa
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busted in busan
summary; you’re snowbound at the airport, when the only thing you want is to be homebound. your anxieties heighten as the snow rises, worried that you won’t make it in time for christmas where your fiancé and his parents expect you—picture perfect. when all flights are cancelled due to a massive storm, you have to turn to the hands of an unlikely, hard-headed hero who knows the fastest way out of busan (and into your heart) pairing; jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; a christmas detour!au, fluff, angst, slice of life, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, pining, this is a total romcom, hallmark movie galore! tw–microcheating (or not however you look at it) mentions of sex, making out, profanity w/c; 10k a/n; for @suhdays holiday hallmark event! this event was totally up my lane, i couldn’t wait to post it! a huge thank u for @eerieedits for making this wonderful fic banner! this is totally unedited, i’ll to go back to it tonight but pls enjoy! for those of u who need a little more christmas charm this year, this is for u
if you loved this icy couple, please consider giving it a like n’share!⛄⛄⛄
“The Korean Air 1102 flight from Gimhae International Airport to Incheon International Airport will be delayed six hours due to the intense weather conditions. Please be on standby for any further updates.”
You’re twitching, fighting the urge to nibble on your nails because you’ve just got them done for Christmas. They’re a sleek champagne gold, because your fiancé insisted that they’re far more mature than your usual red and brown reindeer art. This is awful, and is only going to get progressively worse as the snow builds and builds. Right now the weather isn’t that bad, the snow isn’t even sticking to the ground and—oh.
Gnawing at your lip, your fingers brush over the cold window, a clear view of the landing strip you should currently be boarding. The touch is icy, and the pads of your fingers are enveloped in little rings of fog at the sudden warmth nudging the glass. Upon closer inspection and a squint of your eyes reveal that in fact, the snow is now sticking to the ground. Big, fat clumps are covering the freeway and destroying your Christmas plans.
Your fiancé will understand if you’re a little late for their Christmas Eve party, but you’re not sure if his parents will. You’ve been on livewire all week, wanting to at least spend the morning of Christmas Eve with your family back home. Knowing that your fiancé’s Christmas Eve party would run until very late, you booked a noon flight with enough time to get ready and impress his parents. Evidently, it was an ill-prepared idea.
Immediately falling into your terminal’s line, you hope that you can talk with the receptionist in hopes they could put you at ease.
“How soon will you announce our flight’s departure?” A sad smile.
“Is there any way you can put me on the next possible flight?” A shake of the head.
“Will the weather let up?” A frown.
Every bit of rejection weighs you down, and you’ve run out of questions to ask. For a receptionist, she’s not very receptive.
“C’mon lady, you’re holding up the line,” a voice tugs you from behind, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta get down to the city on Christmas.”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes, wanting to slap the rudeness off this man’s face. Instead of falling back in line, you move to the side to glare at him. He’s unfortunately attractive, albeit in a rugged sort-of way—nothing like your fiancé. The leather jacket that he carries tall is worn and crackly at the collar. Wavy dark hair he constantly has to hold back, a gesture that looks flirtatious and to your chagrin the receptionist is definitely recepting to him.
“Your refund should be processed in about two to four business days, Mr. Jeon,” the receptionist murmurs, the simultaneously sultry and chirpy voice making you twitch in your spot. Maybe if you drank a cup of tall, dark and handsome you’d be getting the same kind of treatment.
“Thanks,” he replies shortly, and it’s then you notice the extremely large luggage next to him. It’s the size of you, and despite the broad shoulders under the baggy jacket, he lugs it with careful force, making sure not to bump into anyone as he wheels it away from the counter.
It seems that your trainers have a mind of your own as you follow him down the terminal. He side eyes you as your feet pick up the pace to match his long legs, but he waits for you to say something first.
“Why did you ask for a refund?” you ask, frowning at him, “the flight is only delayed.”
He scoffs, “Do you see the snow? They’re just saying it’s delayed so they can hold onto your money a little longer. Besides, it’s a win-win. I get my refund sooner and some other poor sap can take the ticket and wait until five in the morning.”
“Five A.M.,” you exhale to yourself, slowing down.
It would be too late by then, far too late. Your shoulders slump, people start to bump into you without a care.
“Besides,” you hear his voice say from your stricken form, “I had a backup plan.”
That’s when your feet start to burn up, and you whip around to pump your legs, catching up with the man who’s already far down the hall. “What kind of backup plan?” you blurt, raising your voice because the crowds are starting to get noisier and deeper the further you follow him.
He hooks his lips into a confused frown, “You’re awfully nosy.”
“I’m in a pinch, my fiancé’s parents will kill me if I don’t show up to their party tonight.”
“Your fiancé’s parents… will kill you?”
“That’s an exaggeration,” you cough, immediately feeling self-conscious, “they’d kill me with their eyes. They’re really big, really pretty corporate people. They have high expectations for their future in-law.”
“Ah, and you're the country pumpkin who managed to sweep the rich guy off his feet?”
“Something like that,” you reply, rocking on your heels, “my dad was his dad’s former secretary, and we grew up together.”
The stranger with a plan stops in front of a long line. It’s so long that you’re not entirely sure where it leads to. People are piling out the door two at a time, and you can see they’re trying to get through the process as fast as possible. The window leading outside is blurry and caked in white ice. He hooks one leg over his luggage, the metal and plastic case is so high that his feet barely touch the ground. Like a kid with a flat scooter, he wheels himself through the line.
“These lines are for busses going in the direction of our flight,” he jabs a finger out the door, “if the flight got cancelled I was just going to ride one of these,” out of his pocket he pulls out two tickets, flicking it in front of your face.
“Are there any tickets left?” your eyes bug, and you immediately pull out your phone to reserve a spot.
“Nah, been booked since last month.”
It’s then that your eyes zero in on the second ticket he has in hand. Both tickets are addressed to the same name. You lower your phone in your pocket, narrowing your eyes. “Why do you have two for yourself?”
He pats his luggage as a response.
“That’s not fair!”
“It is when you buy it, sweetheart.”
“A literal human could be in that spot, wanting to go home for Christmas!”
“You’re just salty you don’t have a ticket, don’t take it out on my luggage,” he feigns a pout, rubbing the handle of the heavy container, “you’re hurting it’s feelings.”
It doesn’t take long for you and the stranger to reach the end of the line. To others in line the two of you look like two companions bickering good-naturedly, but in reality the only thing you want to do is slap that smug smile off his face.
“You want my ticket,” he states.
“I want your luggage’s ticket,” you bite back, staring petulantly at where he sits comfortably between the handle.
Unbeknownst to you, the man’s face morphs into a teasing grin upon seeing you glare a little too hard at the silver and black case. It just so happens that your eyes gravitate to the middle of the luggage, at the apex between his long legs leading up to a pair of black sweats. Despite the soft, baggy fabric you can see how the bulge of his thighs outline the thin cotton, looking large and inviting which—
Fuck. You’re engaged. Why are you checking out some stranger’s thighs? Your fiancé also has nice thighs, think about those!
“How much do you want for it?” you cough, crossing your arms and turning to the side to hide your flaming cheeks.
“Who said I was offering?”
“I’ll pay that and then some.”
“With your rich-boy’s money?”
If your hands were not digging into your elbows and you weren’t so concerned about your gold-foiled manicure, you’d deck him. Do the holidays normally make this person so snappy? He simply flips his hair, and you catch the shaved ends of his sides.
“Three-hundred,” he says easily, and if he notices you staring he doesn’t say anything, “including any extra fees for my luggage.”
“Done,” you hold out your hand for him to shake.
“I’m Jungkook, if you care,” the man named Jungkook adds wryly, practically swallowing your small hand with his larger one. You shortly reply with your name, and he merely nods, “a thank you would suffice.”
“Thanks,” and it’s then that you manage a scarily pretty smile, one that Jungkook finds both alarming and amusing. It’s a catered smile, one that you’ve trained yourself to accomplish after hours in the mirror in fear of your fiancé’s parents seeing right through you. It’s the smile you give during work when you don’t give a shit but you need to suck it up. It’s a 9/10 success rate.
“Scary,” he shivers, and then you realize he’s the 1/10.
The only bus for you two to pile on is one of the smallest. Probably half the size of a regular coach bus, but at this rate you don’t care. You’ll fly by hot air balloon if the weather wasn’t so crappy.
“Taehyung!” you startle at Jungkook’s sudden belt, and he does a big, beefy-chested bro-hug to the driver. Ah, so he has connections. You watch the two interact from your corner, pulling up your hood to stop the rapidfire snowflakes from pelting your eyes.
The driver is a classically handsome thing, dark eyes and dark fluffy hair. His paperbag pants look absolutely frigid however, and his teeth are chattering as he regards Jungkook with annoyed eyes.
“Listen, so plans have changed—”
“As always, Kook.”
“—and I need you to do me another solid. Do you have room in the compartment for my babies?”
“The answer is, and always no. That’s why you bought two tickets.”
“I know but,” he gestures to you with a jab of his thumb, “like I said, plans have changed.”
“Jungkook,” Taehyung frowns, “trying to do some Christmas miracles? In this snowstorm?” Taehyung shakes his head, eyes flickering to the running bus. Most of the ticket holders are already on it. “I can save you two a three-seater, but there’s no room in the compartment. It’ll be a tight fight but—”
“It’s perfect. You’re dynamite, Tae,” Jungkook even has the audacity to reach his hands out and squish the driver’s cheeks, much to his distain.
The two of you are ushered quickly into the bus, leaving you in the very front diagonal to where Taehyung is sitting. The three seats are tiny, it probably barely fits Jungkook’s thighs with the large luggage nestled in the other two seats. The two of you suggest to put the luggage out in the aisle and take turns holding it, but Taehyung interjects that the luggage is a fire hazard.
“But not a human,” Jungkook decides, and he gestures for you to sit down in the available seat. You’re practically shoved against the window as Jungkook manages to squeeze his gargantuan luggage in the other two seats. He’s tall enough to grab the metal rungs of the bus, steeling himself in the middle of the aisle.
Taehyung doesn’t fight with that, and finally puts the bus into drive. Pulling out of the airport feels akin to leaving the eye of the storm. It’s going to be a long journey, and it makes you worry as to whether you’re going to make it on time or not.
Your favorite pastime is watching the window on a long car ride, especially when the snowflakes crystalize and melt away through the warmth of the vehicle. However, you’re irked. You thought Jungkook was a bit of a wank, a little too full of himself and far too mysterious for your own good.
Exhibit A, the luggage that’s currently threatening to wheel over and crush you against the glass. You wonder what’s so special about this luggage that Jungkook so desperately wants to protect, even so far as to buy its own seat. Sneakily, you lean over to smell the zipper. Surprisingly, it smells a little vinegary, the fumes getting you a little lightheaded within seconds. Your eyes dart to Jungkook, who’s currently engaged in conversation with Taehyung. You tilt your head and sniff again, confirming the slightly rancid smell.
It’s then you take in Jungkook’s form once more. He dresses a little schlubby, his clothes are old, his eyes are sunken in, and his luggage is filled with weird-smelling things.
Oh no. Is Jungkook a drug dealer?
Your fiancé’s parents would surely have a fit if this man gets arrested and you come up in the report as an accused accomplice. It makes sense, he would want to make sure that his goods are in his view at all times, and it explains why he so easily gave you his ticket for triple the actual price.
A giggle interrupts your thoughts. Yes, a tired, yet bubbly giggle. Jungkook’s face is pressed against his bicep, and you catch the fluttering of his eyes as he tries to keep up with Taehyung’s rambling. His grip is starting to loosen on the metal bars, and you’re worried that he might accidentally slip, or not hold tight enough in the event the car takes a sharp turn or slips on black ice.
“J-Jungkook,” it’s the first time you’re saying his name out loud, tasting it on your tongue as you regard him steadily, “why don’t we take turns sitting? I don’t mind standing for an hour while you sleep.”
He regards you with a sleepy smirk, shaking his head against the fabric of his jacket. “You’ll be flung in two seconds, besides can you even reach the handles?”
Good point, but Jungkook is far more muscular and if he does end up flying he’ll crash through the window and further hinder your commute. It’s why you choose your next words carefully, and you convince yourself it’s the only reason as to why you propose your solution.
“I’ll sit on your lap,” and since it sounds super weird coming out of your mouth, you tack on, “I’ll put your jacket over your lap as a barrier.”
He slacks, regarding you with a scrunched face. “Is the jacket supposed to make that situation any better? I’m fine standing like this.”
“This ride is going to take hours and you’re barely on your own two feet,” your point is made when the bus topples over a speed bump, and Jungkook looks awfully small as he moves to grapple the top bar with both hands, “my fiancé doesn’t get jealous, I’ve sat in plenty of friend’s laps before.”
“We’re not friends,” he blurts with a raise of his brows.
“Yes, I know that,” you’re a little insulted by the curt reply, but he still looks rather horrified that you’re proposing the following, “I don’t like it either, but I’m sitting in your seat and now I’m feeling guilty as hell.”
It’s a lot of shuffling and shifting after that. You try not to laugh as Jungkook rips off his leather jacket, folding it into a perfect square, ironing out the corners of the crinkly fabric as he gestures for you to take a seat. You try not to take note of how sturdy his thighs are, or how the muscle stretches across the seat so well that there’s no way for you to fall between the cracks.
“You’re going to sleep anyway,” you try to assure him, side eying him as he presses his forehead against the window, “it’ll be like being with a dead body.”
“Didn’t know you were into necrophilia, but whatever floats your boat,” Jungkook mumbles, eyes immediately fluttering shut.
At first it was easy, ignoring the fact that you’re sitting on top of a human. The drive seems endless however, Taehyung driving further and further into a sea of white ice. You force yourself to thread your fingers together, sitting on the very edge of his knees with your back ramrod straight. Eventually, you tire out and relax against Jungkook’s lax body. Your face is centimeters away from Jungkook’s. Long, dark lashes, and a strand of equally dark hair falls in front of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed from the blaring heater, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.
Hm, for a drug dealer, he smells pretty.
Despite the weird-smelling luggage that looms over the two of you, the white long-sleeved shirt he wears is soft to the touch and smells fresh.
You huff, and shift in your seat.
“Stop,” Jungkook mumbles into your shoulder, and you don’t have the heart to look at him.
“I’m sorry, it’s cramped,” you reply.
“I get that, but you don’t have to—hike yourself so far up here,” he sounds almost embarrassed saying it, and his hand shuffles to adjust his belt. “Literally can’t sleep because you’re making me pop a boner.”
“Why, I’m engaged!”
“God, I know. It’s like your personality trait or something,” Jungkook retorts, “just because you’re engaged doesn’t stop my body from reacting. I’m sure your fiancé has reacted like this, stop acting like a blushing virgin.”
You tense, your eyes glued to the window in front of you. How do you even make a comeback to that? Wringing your hands in your lap, you feel your palms sweat with nerves the longer it takes for you to reply. This causes the gears to run in Jungkook’s mind.
“Holy fuck, have you two not—”
“Shut up,” you hiss, turning your body around to slap him in the chest, “shut up shut upupupshutup!”
You make seething, burning eye contact with Jungkook. You expect him to have a shit-eating grin on his face, teasing you for your relationship. Instead, Jungkook is wide-eyed, mouth parted open like a confused guppy and his big bug-eyes looking stricken. He says nothing.
The road starts to get bumpier, and the drive swerves from time to time to avoid black ice. Neither of you are relaxed. Combined with the heart of the storm, your heart is currently wrung on electrical wire, pumping blood with a fervor you cannot stifle.
“I’m going to put my arms around your waist,” Jungkook murmurs softly, and you lift your arms slightly to see him lace his fingers over your belly button. “Like a seatbelt.”
You sigh, relaxing in his hold. Now it’s awkward. He feels compelled to hold you to keep you safe, even though he clearly finds it awkward you’ve already put him in this position.
Jungkook isn’t so bad, you think as you let your gaze linger on his hands. They anchor you to his lap, making sure you’re not jostling during the ride. He may have a razor sharp tongue and gets under your nerves just for the heck of it, but he’s kind of nice. Under the prickly leather jacket, there’s a softness to him you can’t help but gravitate to.
It’s dark outside, save for the speedily descending flakes and the dim lights of the highway. You’re sitting on the lap of a total stranger, yet it’s a stranger who’s holding your waist like he’s a seatbelt, a stranger who’s making you feel safe to say the words that have been haunting you for the past few months.
“I’ve tried to initiate sex,” you finally say. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want me, it’s already been two years.”
Your eyes turn red with bloody horror. Your vision blurred by the insanity of what you’ve just blurted out to this surprisingly kind stranger who’s offered his seat (both times) to you.
“I didn’t mean to word vomit like that. Forget I said anything—”
“Must be his loss,” Jungkook cuts you off, and when he says it doesn’t feel impolite at all. However, Jungkook doesn’t continue on, doesn’t give you rhyme or reason, just lets you linger on his reply like a madwoman.
Maybe it’s because you’re so touch starved, maybe you’re just seeing things, but for some reason Jungkook’s fingers feel more apparent against the seam of your jacket. They tighten a fraction, drum around the metal zipper that holds the thick fabric together. Your palms feel like a fountain, and you try to ignore the burn between your legs, the liquid heat betraying the commitment that sits on your finger.
You’re engaged to be married, you chastise yourself. All eighteen carats that symbolize that bond glare at you, bright and eager to make you feel guilty. The whole reason why you’re on this cramped bus ride is to get to your soon-to-be husband. Some pretty stranger with strong hands won’t change that.
“We’re here! Finally!” Taehyung cheers, and you realize now that you’re parked into a tunnel surrounded by other buses.
Jungkook and you wait until everyone steps off the bus. The pads of Jungkook’s fingers play an unsung tune, absentmindedly drumming to a song you can’t put your mind to.
“God, you can’t just pay the extra money for someone to take care of this?” Taehyung hauls the large luggage in the aisle seat, and you feel like you’re being revealed under a curtain, doing something you’re not supposed to be doing.
You hop off his lap, scoop your backpack in your arm and scramble off the bus. The cold, winter air bites into every available pore in your body, replacing the warmth that Jungkook gave in the tiny bus. You hike the collar of your oversized turtleneck higher up your chin, prickling in shivers as you wait for Jungkook.
“I don’t remember Seoul being this, empty,” you say to yourself, frowning at the lack of humans past the bus station. You peer curiously at the dark, dark road off the terminal. There’s no flicker of light, or a skyline filled with bustling sounds and flickering head beams.
“That’s because we’re only halfway there,” Jungkook walks past you, luggage in tow.
“What?” you pull out your phone, it’s already 4PM and it’s pitch dark outside.
The snow is beating down as you two speed walk out of the hangar, reaching a nearly vacant parking lot save for a pure white minivan. You barely notice the vehicle with all the snow, blending in perfectly as wave after wave of ice beats down on it. The pops of rust by the tires, gaudy orange stripes is the only thing you can focus on as you try to make it to the car as fast as possible.
“Get in and start the car,” Jungkook practically shoves the keys in your hands, gesturing for you to take the passenger seat.
When you enter his car, you’re hit with a scent scarily identical to the one in Jungkook’s luggage. You nearly gag when you inhale too much, and your eyes flicker over to the lemon air freshener attached to the exhaust, trying its best to mask the smell. You vaguely remember all the warning stories your parents told you as a kid—never enter the white van.
Ohmygod, you’re in a white van and all of Jungkook’s drugs are in the back.
You shake your head, willing the car to start as you arch your back over the console to start it up. You’ve been around your fiancé’s parents too long, letting them fill your head with judgemental gab and crazy assumptions only rich people have about people lesser than them.
Once the car spurs to life, soft holiday music plays from a pop station. The front window of the car is absolutely covered in snow, you can’t even budge the windshield wipers to scrape the layer of ice off.
Suddenly, a blanket of ice slides off the window, swept to the concrete. You’re met with Jungkook’s toothy smile and horror-esque stare, and you have this jerk reaction to nervously laugh and jump in your seat. Your nails dig into the cheap fabric of your seat as Jungkook’s scary expression melts into a more softened one, as if happy to have gotten you to laugh in such sucky times. Jungkook continues to brush your windows, meticulously making sure no ice can cause any damage as you two go into the night.
“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” Jungkook whips the door open, throwing the snow brush at the space between your feet.
As soon as he shuts the door, your stomachs growl simultaneously.
The two of you break into a quick laugh, giggles that overlap the twinkly holiday chimes and the packed snow crunching under Jungkook’s boots.
“After McDonalds,” Jungkook declares, setting up the GPS for a quick pitstop to the nearest fast food joint.
Ten minutes into the drive, you pull into a generic food joint, too starved to find gourmet McDonalds. You make it a point to flick your card and lean over his body to meet the cashier, telling him you’re spotting the meal. Jungkook doesn’t complain, and tells the cashier to add in a vanilla sundae for good measure.
Color yourself impressed, but you can’t help but gawk as Jungkook expertly sets up his food on the dashboard like a five-star meal, with fries in the cupholder and a burger unwrapped perfectly to catch any spills and to keep his fingers from getting greased up. For such a terrible snowstorm, he pulls out of the joint gracefully, a brief intermission in your long journey.
“So, is my fiancé’s place far from where you need to be?”
Jungkook shrugs, a stray fry hanging from his mouth. “It’s not far, not close either. I don’t mind, I like driving.”
“Do you drive around a lot?”
“Yeah, for work. It’s a little annoying that I have to spend Christmas alone, but it is what it is.”
Pausing on your speculation, you take a big bite of your burger. You were hoping that your conversation would spur on a little more detail about his drug-esque job. However, all you start to feel is the heaviness of your fast food meal, stemming from your chest and filling your grease-filled stomach.
“You’re spending Christmas alone?” you say, and you don’t mean to sound so sad saying it, but the thought of him being alone tonight makes you feel pinched with pain.
“I can practically feel your puppy-eyes,” Jungkook shakes his head, not even needing to look at you as he focuses on the road. “I’m fine, don’t you worry.”
“Do you wanna come to the party?” you offer, trying to sound as neutral as possible as you throw the suggestion on the dash.
“Not my thing,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, “with my line of work, I prefer to lay low.”
Trying not to feel a hurt by the sudden (but expected) rejection, you practically eat your burger whole, eyes glaring on the road. You surmise it’s a valid excuse, drug dealers aren’t exactly one for highly-populated areas and with your fiancé’s reputation, you’re sure his parents would smell Jungkook’s reputation in a micro-minute.
The drive isn’t anything special. You’re sure if it were spring, the foliage would be pretty and the sun would be setting into melty orange hues by now. It’s all black and white, boring shades that are aggressively pelting at the van and hindering your evening.
“So, what other character traits do you have?” Jungkook cuts through your semi-brooding, as easily as one slices through butter, “other than the obvious that you’re engaged, and that you’re getting married. And oh yeah, you have a fiancé!”
You scoff at his cheesy joke, folding your arms together. “I like spending time with my family. Watching movies under a weighted blanket. Plants.”
His stare dips away from the road for a fraction, enough for you to catch that he’s rolling his eyes, “Fascinating. Not a plant person myself. I like those cute little succulents though. Had a bunch of those in college.”
“I am also a ramen connoisseur,” you say pointedly, turning up your nose.
“Ah, are you?” you smile a little when you see Jungkook’s eyes light up at the mention of food, “what’s the criteria for good ramen?”
“Deep, creamy broth. Also, the egg. Gotta look like a custard-y, eggy sunset. It’s just,” you smack your lips together, mimicking a chef’s kiss, “perfect.”
He chuckles, and goes on to tell you a story about a ramen shop he’s visited on his travels. It’s one he declares that you need to visit, one he still dreams about often. It takes a ferry and it’s a bit of a trek, but he says it’s worth it, and the eggs are as custard-y and sunset-y as you’d like.
It’s between pockets of his story and pulling yourself out of this little bubble of a van you realize: are you flirting with Jungkook?
The longer this trip goes, the more your stares linger. They linger like the snow that sticks to the ground, unable to do nothing but cling. Layer after layer of confusing feelings, building up to a blizzard that you’re unable to quell.
“So, your family’s also going to be at your fiancé’s party?” Jungkook asks, poking at yet another one of your personal facets. He’s being blatantly nosy, yet neither of you seem to mind.
“Oh, no,” you shove your hands in your pockets, “they wanted to stay back in our hometown with the extended family. Y’know, the older members can’t really travel as much as they used to.”
“Ah, so you’re splitting up your time,” Jungkook drums his hands on the wheel, eyes drooped slightly as he continues along the monotonous road, “your fiancé couldn’t make it?”
“Couldn’t,” you reply lightly, “just, y’know, work.”
“Been there, done that,” Jungkook replies, “I’m sure he missed out though. What’s your family like? Are they the type to bake cookies until 3 A.M.? Oh, or do they get wine drunk and talk shit about their annoying cousins—”
“Jungkook,” the words fly out of your mouth before you can even think, “I’m engaged.”
The weight of your words holds differently now. A whole day has passed with this man, and you’ve developed an attachment that simultaneously scares and thrills you. Not an hour goes by that you have to think to yourself that you’re taken, to the point that you can’t even tell what’s in your head and what’s being spoken out in the air.
Instead of a snippy comment, a snarky retort of, “I know, I know!” like you anticipate, Jungkook stops the car.
There’s no human trace for miles, so it doesn’t scare you when he slows down and pulls off to the side. He gears the car into park, roughly pulling the handle. He lays his arm over the steering wheel, turning his body so he can face you fully. The heat in the car suddenly feels too cloying, and you shrink in the seat as he leans in on you.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, and from the looks of it, he’s genuinely hurt.
“I—Jungkook,” you plant your feet on the ground, trying to find some power in this situation, “I mean I, we—you just can’t keep doing this.”
“Do you feel like I’m trying to steal you away? Or, seduce you or something?” Jungkook is starting to talk himself into a stupor, eyes flickering from the window, to you, to behind you, and back to you. It’s almost jarring, seeing how self-conscious he starts to get without the presence of an audience. Gone is the smooth talker that you met at the terminal, willing to haggle it all for your cash. “Are you uncomfortable? Is it weird I have a crush on you?”
“Wait, you have a crush on me?”
He reels back, nearly pressing his head against the window. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deep from his lungs. “Adults still get crushes, y’know.”
“Yeah, but not to people you met eight hours ago.”
Jungkook arches a brow, “People fall for people in the most unlikely of ways.”
That singular statement hits you, hard.
Jungkook looks like he wants to get out of the van. He seems stuffy, and he unzips his coat and shoves it under his legs.
“You’re cute,” he echoes the statement like he can’t believe that in a short amount of time, he’s attached to you, “you seem to have good taste, you love family, and your personality isn’t half bad,” the last bit is meant to be teasing, a lighthearted way to end his bout of emotion, but it only makes you ache further, “And it makes me upset knowing that you have to keep convincing yourself that you’re in a relationship that isn’t as fulfilling as you hope. This whole drive, you’ve been anxious about going to his parents, worrying that you’re not going to make it on time instead of relaxing with your family. Where you actually want to be.”
“I also want to be with Jimin,” you say weakly, a half-hearted attempt to defend yourself.
You never mentioned your fiancé’s name until this point. It makes Jungkook stiffen a little, finally putting a name to the man that’s supposed to have your heart. It makes the relationship concrete, palpable.
“I’m sure you do,” Jungkook smacks his lips, evidently sealing the conversation to suffocate under the snow.
Jungkook puts the car into drive, sliding back into your current route.
“And to answer your question, Jungkook. No, you having a crush on me is not weird,” and smaller, quieter, you reply, “because it’s weird that I might have a crush on you, too.”
You know that Jungkook catches your statement, because he cranks the volume of the radio harder, effectively shutting you out.
The first thing Jungkook says when you finally reach the Park’s house is: “Wow.”
His van looks completely out of place, parked on the side as limos and Escalades drop off more and more people into the large estate. It’s pouring with elegant piano music, and the large window in the middle of their home reveals a century-old chandelier, crystals beaming and winking against the hundreds of guests that lie underneath.
The rest of the way driving was almost painfully fast. After that awkward wave of emotion, neither of you said anything. Well, you didn’t at least. Jungkook attempted to clear the air by singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio, but it only further attracted you because to your chagrin—Jungkook’s a pretty good singer.
The estate isn’t in Seoul persay, it’s a sizable plot of land that definitely comes from old money. It’s decked up like the North Pole, lit up and tiny crystal lines dotting the expanse of the rooftops. The snow certainly adds to it, and many guests are outside taking pictures of the picture-perfect holiday show. The blizzard has finally subsided, leaving a clean blanket of snow across their yard.
You scoff to yourself. What they find to be a Christmas miracle only derailed yours.
Jungkook stares at you while you send a quick text to Jimin. You tell him he needs to come fast, because you don’t want his parents to see you all sweaty and dressed like you’ve been traveling for hours.
“Oh, uh,” you finally take a look at him, and you immediately regret it because you’re getting sucked into his gaze, “I think you put my bag in the trunk?”
“Right,” he shakes his head, “follow me.”
He tilts his head down when he’s outside, as if the snow’s going to start back up and drown him. Your thumb scratches the ring on your finger as you hop out of the van, effectively popping the bubble the two of you have been sealed in for the better half of the evening. Is this going to be it? Is the last you’ll see of Jeon Jungkook?
All those thoughts evaporate when Jungkook opens the trunk.
There’s no drugs.
In fact, you don’t even know what to think. The van is absolutely filled, wall-to-wall art supplies and canvas carefully lined up like Tetris blocks to avoid damage. The floor of the van seems to receive the brunt of the messes, and you catch recent paint stains and spray cans stacked to the side. It explains the smell.
There’s some clear cases in a corner, protecting completed prints that are already framed. Your eyes cling to a vibrant hyacinth, coral and satin blue petals bunching in the middle of a black background. It’s absolutely gorgeous, if it wasn’t for all the paint lying around, you’d think it’s real.
Jungkook’s an artist.
“Holy shit, I thought you were a drug dealer,” you blurt, and you want to smack yourself in the face.
“Excuse me?” Jungkook jerks his head towards you, “did you think I was a drug dealer this whole time?”
“N-no,” you frown petulantly, letting Jungkook loop your arms through the straps of your backpack. “Maybe. You were very shady.”
He laughs, a genuine laugh. It confuses you, the way he tucks his hands in his pockets and bends his back over to look up at you through his dark lashes. It’s like nothing’s wrong, like he’s trying to erase the past eight hours and leave with no qualms. You don’t know if that comforts you or terrifies you.
“So, you were willing to let a potentially dangerous man be your travel partner for eight hours so you can make it to your fiancé’s party?” Jungkook’s eyes flicker over to the front door, “you must really love him.”
“I do,” you say the phrase like it’s second nature. Rehearsed. Practiced.
“Merry Christmas,” Jungkook pulls out his hand, and you don’t hesitate to grasp it.
Liquid heat sparks through your skin, one that tingles from where his large palm encases yours, all the way to your heart.
“Merry Christmas,” you echo, and your feet feel like lead as you back away from him.
Jungkook waits until you go inside the house, even though the valet is side eyeing him and mentally telling him to leave already. Turning your back to him is rough, like you’re without snowshoes and you’re trudging through snow.
The goodbye feels rushed. Your heart is cold and heavy. Unfortunately, by the time you realize you haven’t paid Jungkook for his bus ticket and the ride, it’s too late. Jimin has already pulled you in his awaiting arms, and Jungkook has peeled out of the driveway.
“You look awful,” Jimin coddles you, dusting the invisible dirt off your jacket. You know Jimin means well by the statement, but you can’t help but feel a little unsupported by his words. You did all you could to make it to Jimin in time for this party full of faceless, nameless people. And yet, Jimin inadvertently manages to put you down for finally making it.
The hallway is relatively empty, save for one staff member who cleans the wet linoleum floors whenever someone with snow steps in. You can easily make out where the heart of the party is, the tinkly holiday music playing from the speakers, along with all the bodies huddled by the extra large Christmas tree that is brimming with presents.
You do feel like a wet noodle, in comparison to Jimin and Namjoon’s complementary pinstripe suits. Jimin’s deep burgundy suit pops in the endless hallway of marble and light wood as he quickly leads you upstairs to a spare room for you to change. Namjoon’s more muted grey still looks stunning on him, cutting his tall figure nicely. You think it’s cute that Jimin made an effort to match with his assistant, not making him feel out of place in this big party.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Namjoon interjects softly, gesturing to the garment bag hanging on the boudoir, “I picked out your dress.”
“I’m sure whatever you bought is beautiful,” you assure softly, stepping fully into the room. It’s an extra bedroom, you’re assuming it might be yours.
“We’ll give you some time to freshen up and get ready,” Jimin squeezes your arm, a touch you can barely feel due to the puffiness of your down jacket. It’s just an awkward escape of air to you, a sssttt that you catch Namjoon hiding his smile for, “we’ll walk around a bit and bring you some food.”
“I want cupcakes,” you blurt impulsively, and the two of them laugh on their way out the door.
Once you’re finally alone, you strip yourself bare. Jacket, shirt, socks, underwear. You make quick work of taking a hot, damp towel to wash your arms and legs, scrubbing your face of any oil and dirt from the day. You wrap yourself in an indulgent fluffy robe, the plush material comforting you as you flop on the bed.
It’s been a day.
You take a five minute cat nap, the weight of the day taking its toll on you. When you finally flutter your eyes open however, you see him.
It’s not exactly him, it’s his art. It’s mounted right atop the headboard, a large blown up painting of a tiger lily. The orange and gold flecks flicker and go perfectly with the decor of the room. The piece is longing, aching for you to go back to two hours ago when you could’ve phrased your words better, balm the situation into something to salvage. This must be a sign, you think. Upon closer look, you see the signature Jeon JK etched in silver in the corner. Who knew the Parks were buying Jeon Jungkook’s work, the world is smaller than you’d originally thought.
It ignites you. You rip the zipper of the garment bag, pulling on the slinky glittery gold dress Namjoon picked out for you. It’s gorgeous, and you don’t know how he managed to find your proportions, but you figure an assistant of his caliber has access to many things. You don’t have much time, so you slap on some light makeup and swipe some highlights across your eyes. By the time Jimin returns, you’re pulling your hair up and out of your face.
Jimin walks to the bed with a pretty red velvet cupcake, “You look beautiful,” he says immediately, and you follow to sit with him at the foot of the bed.
You don’t hesitate to grab the cupcake from his tea plate, nearly shoving it in your mouth. You definitely need a rush, something to curb you over for the plans you have tonight. “Sugar sugar,” you chant like a mantra, and you don’t care that your lipgloss is smudged and crumbs cling to your cheeks.
Jimin just rubs circles onto your thigh, letting you eat and relax. He knows you’re not a fan of these kinds of parties, preferring to wallflower it, preferably at a wall closest to the buffet. His touch is comforting, and you chew slower in order to prolong the inevitable. It takes a beat for you to finish your cupcake.
“I need to talk to you,” the two of you blurt at the same time, and you point and giggle at each other like you’re still five year olds tinkering in the sandbox.
Jimin pouts, “Can I go first? Mine’s kind of important.”
“Mine’s also really important,” you don’t mean to invalidate Jimin, but you really need to get this out. “I might explode if I don’t say this now.”
The blonde scrunches his nose, obviously weak to your unusual distress, “I guess I wouldn’t want that.”
You clutch his hand, the hand that holds the plain wedding band he picked out for himself two years ago. Your eyes flicker to how your ring kisses his, “Jimin. I love you, like really love you. I can’t imagine my life without you, you’ve been my best friend since we could crawl. But as I traveled down here, I realized that even though I love you, I think I’m not in love,” you wince at how cheesy that sounds, “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not good enough, but the whole trip down here made me realize I don’t think I can commit to this.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” you gasp, watching relief wash over Jimin’s features. You’re not even done with your whole spiel and he’s already unbuttoning his blouse, “this makes what I’m about to say a whole lot easier.”
“Jimin,” you trail off, squeezing his palm, “what do you mean?”
“I mean, I think I’m in love.”
Your jaw slackens slightly, seeing the sweat that lines Jimin’s slicked back hair. He must’ve been thinking about this all night, waiting for you to tell you this. Your chest aches, weighing in on all the sudden facts. “Who is it?” you ask.
Jimin shrugs, “The man who does my taxes and makes sure I sleep at least seven hours a night.”
“Namjoon,” you conclude, eyes moving to the sealed door. You think Namjoon is waiting out there right now, silently supporting you two as you go through this. Of course, Jimin’s parents would be livid if anything would tarnish his reputation. A broken engagement would be sticky to cover up, and Jimin falling for his assistant is a headline right for the books.
“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispers, despite the room being vacant he feels the need to keep his words short, “You came all this way to hear this. But I guess we’re on the same page, huh?” His soft fingers make a beeline for your ring finger, removing the diamond band, “And by the way, I love you too. Which is why we’re going to come clean in the morning and work this out with my parents, together. I’m sorry if you felt obligated to follow me all this time just because our parents did.”
“Hey, like you said, we’re in this together. Both in and out,” you chastise, pulling your engagement ring from his grasp and holding it to the light. “Can I keep this? Instead of an engagement band, it can be our best friend band. I’ll even get it re-sized so it can go on another finger.”
Jimin pulls you into his arms, crushing you. The silky material of your dress bunches and rides, but you don’t care. The two of you can’t help but be a little crybaby-ish about it, feeling much like your younger-selves when you had to pull each other out of trouble.
The two of you walk out of the bedroom hand-in-hand, and Namjoon is leaning against the banister in the hallway, a soft smile melting on his tanned skin.
“I’m so happy for you,” you gush, hugging Namjoon tightly. You’ve only known the man for a few months, but you can tell he’s taking care of Jimin and that’s enough for you.
“I… really thought you’d be more upset.” Namjoon marvels, patting your back.
Jimin interjects, “I think she’s found someone hotter than me.”
“Impossible!”
You could stay at this party, lay low until you and Jimin have to confront his parents in the morning. They suggest to get all the food they need and sneak out to the home theatre. The three of you hustle it down the stairs to another part of the house, in order for you to make your getaway and avoid Jimin’s family.
“Hey,” you stop in front of another painting, pulling the two men to a stop. Your eyes lock on a framed droopy peony, tipped with pink dye. You realize you can’t stay here, not when someone’s home alone tonight. “Namjoon, I need you to locate someone for me.”
Jungkook does not expect to see you at his front door.
You’re stunning, and look as breathless as he feels. The liquid champagne number that hugs your frame does things to him, and he’s strangely attracted to the fact that you paired this expensive dress with your snow-drenched trainers.
You showing up at the wee hours of the morning was the last thing Jungkook thought would happen. It’s nothing short of a holiday event, you look like you’ve just walked out of a gala and then ran a marathon to reach him.
He thought when he said goodbye, it would be the last time you’d cross paths. At first, he was okay with that. After all, feelings come and go, and spontaneity only works a percentage of the time. Seeing you presently however, throws all those half-hearted concedings out the window.
“Hi,” you finally say, drinking from the fact that you actually found him.
“Hey,” Jungkook breathes, “you look, beautiful.”
“Thanks,” you smile.
“So, is this about you not paying me back for the ticket?” Jungkook suddenly feels guilty, having dipped out of Jimin’s manor once he saw him appear at the door. It was unrightful jealousy, and because of that he needed to drive away as fast as possible. “Because honestly, it was me messing with you. I really don’t need the money.”
“I figured, from the fact that I had to take the elevator up to the penthouse of the building.”
“So then why are you here?” Jungkook wobbles on the balls of his feet, unsure of what to do with himself.
“My ex-fiancé is in love with someone else,” you lay your cards out just like that, and Jungkook’s unprepared to deal.
“Holy shit, I’m so sorry—”
“Let me finish,” you cut in gently, “my ex-fiancé is in love with someone else, and that’s okay. We’ve been best friends since we were little, and we want nothing but happiness for each other. And for me? Happiness is right in front of me.”
You bite your lip, and Jungkook fights down the urge to run up and pull you into his arms. You must be so cold, running out without a jacket and rushing to his home. However, he lets you finish, and he holds himself down by clutching the door frame as casually as possible.
“I also have a big, fat crush on you,” you say boldly, “and I had to tell you as soon as I could. It took a twenty-minute phone call and some serious leverage from Jimin’s company to figure out where you lived. That receptionist is definitely not letting me use my frequent flyer miles next flight.”
“You harassed an airport receptionist just for me?” he smiles wanly, placing a hand on his chest, “I’m touched.”
“You make me excited to try new things, to be spontaneous and do things for myself,” with every statement you take a step further, and soon enough you’re in his dimly lit apartment. The plush couch in his living room looks awfully warm and comfy, and the light music that plays from his speakers is soft and soothing. “So, let’s spend the holidays together and see where this goes. And go to your art gallery tomorrow, because I did research you on the drive and found out you had to rush here because of a big show.”
“So you’re actually a stalker?” Jungkook teases, tugging you over to the couch.
He takes the lead, plopping himself on the couch first and inviting you to sit next to him. You take a detour and plant your body atop of him, and with an ‘oof’ the two of you are sinking.
“A stalker and a potential drug dealer does sound like a promising pair,” Jungkook jests, his hand palming the silky material of your ruched up ball gown.
“I’m sorry,” you pout, wrapping your fingers around the long tresses of his hair, “can you please stop bringing that up? It was judgemental of me.”
“I like when you’re judgemental,” he pokes your puppy-faced cheeks, ruddied with embarrassment. “I like picking fights with you and getting you all riled up.”
“Will you rile me up now?”
Sexy, he thinks. He figures a vixen has been hidden under you, one suppressed by a complicated engagement and many other factors he’d love to learn about in the near future. The situation at hand however, is far more pressing. Your body is finally warming up, and Jungkook tries to ignore the weight your body is causing, re-igniting an ache he felt hours ago when you two were squished against each other in the coach bus.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” you declare, and you look a little frustrated that Jungkook is taking so long to process this information, “and I hope I take your breath away.”
You taste like sugar and the softness that comes with the holidays. It’s tender and oh-so comforting, and Jungkook can’t help but squeeze your hips closer as your lips brush fervently against his. The feeling is both new and old, and Jungkook figures you’ve finally uncoiled a flame that you can no longer quell.
Soon enough your kisses turn hungry, and Jungkook has to remind himself that you two have only known each other for a total of twelve hours, and he isn’t sure of what’s appropriate to jump to due to the speed of your relationship. Once he feels the first roll of your hips, a liquid heat that Jungkook can’t help but return back, he pulls away from your soft lips. Not too far, but a few centimeters apart so that Jungkook and you can catch your breath.
“We should take this slow,” he starts, trying to make a reasonable impression now that you’re a guest at his home and finally settled from their long trip. “I really, really want to get to know you. And you’re so beautiful and I really do want to have sex but—”
“Jungkook, I have not had sex with someone in two years,” you speak with a depraved tone, as if it’s been centuries since you’ve been touched. He can’t help but throw his head back and laugh, “a night full of sex sounds like the best last-minute present ever.”
You bring his hand over to your core, the shiny glassy material of your gown doing nothing to hide the glimpses of pleasure you’re minutes away from experiencing. You whine desperately at the thought, and Jungkook’s a goner.
“Well, I guess I’m about to pull a Christmas miracle,” he murmurs against your lips, ready to work his magic.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#kwritersworldnet#btsghostie#btswritingcafe#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#bts fic#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts angst
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Sugar Daddy turned sour
Request: Hi!!!! read all of ur works its all amazing cant believe ur new.. can i request for a yan sugar daddy taehyung x reader x yan sugar daddy jungkook. they found out that that y/n have 2 sugar daddies and they lost their sanity(as if they even have that)...Thank u and YOU GOOD,KEEP GOING💜💞💞💞💞😘😁
A/N: I don't know how to post a reply to a personal message yet because I am new and Tumblr deficient 😅 But I hope you like the scenario ^-^ thanks for the request 💜
Here for Part 2
Summary: Juggling two guys and getting everything you want from them has always been easy for you, and Taehyung and Jungkook are no exception. Or so you thought.
Trigger warnings: Mentions of non-con, assault, cheating, violence.
Yandere! Taehyung
Yandere! Jungkook
Sunday. Taehyungs day.
You open your webcam, checking your eyeliner quickly in the startup view as you wait for the Tae to pick up on the other side. He pops up quickly a beaming smile filling his face.
“Y/n! Baby, I’ve missed you.” He’s radiant. As happy and as bubbly he always is.
You go along listening to him excitedly run through his past few days, telling you everything in excruciating detail as he jumps from one half-finished thought to another. He may be an adult but he certainly has a young soul. The whole while you feign attention, your fingers continually fidgeting with the diamond necklace or the matching bracelet he had sent you a few weeks back.
“How was your weekend?” He finally gets around to asking.
“Not so good. I always have to work so much," You complain, batting your eyes at the camera.
“You could always quit and come live with me.” He jokes-but not really. It’s a topic he has raised 3 times already. And you have the same answer ready as always.
“Daddy, you know I’m a strong and independent woman. I could never let someone else pay for me.” You pout, running your tongue over your lower lip while pushing your chest up a little to draw attention. “It’s just my rent is so expensive. I feel like I work just to pay the bills.”
In truth, your rent is already being covered by someone else. But he doesn’t need to know that.
While you continue to run through the fabricated details of your weekend, Taehyung is distracted, looking down at his phone. You know what's happening. It’s like a game. And you’re winning. Your banking app sends a notification, letting you know that K. Taehyung has just sent you a payment.
You open it up. Yep. That's rent for the month. Or more, money for that new TV you wanted.
“Oh! Daddy, noo.” You whine down the camera. “You can’t. I am okay. Really. Please don’t spend your money on me.” You frown if only to stop the smile that is fighting to fill your face.
“I want to baby. I have the money, and I just want you to be happy. Don’t stress about bills okay. I’m here.”
Sometimes, it’s almost too easy.
“Okay Daddy, if you insist.”
Tuesday. Jungkooks day.
With Jungkook it’s a much more straightforward transaction. He has said he wants to pay for you and he hates the back and forth pretences. He just wants you to say thank you, smile pretty, and give him all your attention.
“Do you need anything more for the week?” He asks through the camera.
“No Daddy, you take such good care of me. Thank you.” You smile.
“You still have the weekend of the 14th off?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. Off-screen you quickly scan through your calendar.
14th, 15th and 16th: Jk weekend.
Hmm, that came up quicker than you expected. You try to keep your booty calls with them as far apart as possible.
“Of course, I’m so excited! I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You say, it been less than 100% truthful.
“Months.” He corrects with a surreptitious undertone.
“Where are we staying this time?”
You always insist to stay in hotels. Because ‘your apartment feels too busy and mundane, and you want the time you spend with him to be magical and undistracted’. Honestly, you just don’t want him, either of them, in your personal space. You purposefully chose boys who live a few hours away. It’s hard enough to keep them separated in your everyday life with them being far away. It could only get messy for them to know where you live and how to reach you in person.
You’ve certainly gotten smart at this. Arranging the two men into different days of the week, scheduling them into your calendar to keep them apart and unaware of the other. Both had specifically said very early on that they do not want to share you with anyone else. And that you were all theirs. And while both of them seemed to trust you, you knew their reactions would be unpleasant, to say the least, if they found out about the other.
Sugar Daddies can be so possessive.
But while both these men are very handsome, money is better and more reliable than boys. And if they are stupid enough to spend it all on you, why should you care.
The week passes quickly and it’s the 14th. Once more you find yourself in the lobby of a 5-star hotel. Jungkook arrived in town early and sent you a message with the room number.
Time to actually work for your money.
You knock on the door only to find it slightly open. Entering there is a trail of rose petals lining the floor leading into the suite. All the lights are dimmed with a warmth of candlelight filling the room. This is so typically Jungkook. Pulling out all the stops to try to impress.
Dropping your bag at the entrance, you close the door behind you and explore inwards.
“Daddy?” You call out in a singsong voice. Your heels clack on the tiled floor as you round the corner into the living room. Jungkook is sitting on the lounge, one leg crossed over the other, arms rested up over the back. You smile at seeing him. You always seem to forget just how stunning he is in person.
“Which one of us are you referring to?” A deep voice startles you from behind. You jolt, spinning to see Taehyung standing behind you leaning against the wall.
Holy fuck.
Your mind starts to jumble through what is happening. Thinking about what it was that might have given you away. Evaluating how much they may know. And planning your next move.
Damn it. You doubt you’ll be able to smooth talk your way out of this with Jungkook. He’s too direct and absolute. So you’ll just have to accept that that relationship is over. However, you might be able to salvage this situation with Taehyung if you play your cards right. Being defensive should do the trick.
“What is this?” You snap, keeping focused on Taehyung. “This is such a violation of my privacy! You keep smothering me Taehyung! See this is why I tried to find someone else to hang out with.” You stomp your foot. He would always wrap around your finger so quickly with the little girl act.
“Ha!” He blurts out a short laugh in contradiction to how you expected him to react. “Wow. No, go on. I want to see where this is going.”
“Do you think we only just found out about each other?” Jungkook pipes up, coming from the couch.
You sigh. You had almost saved enough for a holiday to the Maldives too. But they seem to know too much. Fine. You can burn both relationships. They were starting to get too clingy anyway. “Whatever.” You roll your eyes. You got all you could from them. Time to move on to the next.
As you shrug them off, Taehyung steps into the path of the front door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Both he and Jungkook start to close in tighter. There is a cold tone to his words. Something far too close to a threat for your comfort. Even in heels, both men naturally stand taller than you which usually wouldn’t bother you. But with an unsteadiness to your footing and a very short dress on, in a dark room with two men you have used and spurned, you are feeling even more vulnerable than you feel you should.
“Move.” You order.
A smirk on his lips, Taehyung lifts his hand up and backhands you, knocking you back a few stumbled steps. You gasp, your hand clinging to your cheek, eyes wide in shock. He starts forward, Jungkook intervening, standing between the two of you.
You can not believe he just hit you! He has never done anything like that before.
“No, don’t do that.” He stops Taehyung as he starts to swing again. Shaking all over, you’re relieved that one of them is seeing sense. You take the outstretched hand of Jungkook, lip trembling from the burn on your cheek. He draws you closer and you wrap into him for protection. In the same motion, his free hand swings down punching you in the stomach, doubling you over, dropping you to the floor. “If you hit her head, she might get spaced out. I want her to feel this.”
His words send a chill down your spine. This can not be happening.
“Are you crazy!” You gape, trying to speak while gulping down air. Your head is dizzy, your lungs burning. Kicking off your heels for better movement, you climb back up to your feet not wanting to engage either man. Eyes focused you look past Taehyung to the door, storming forward. “I’m leaving. We’ll forget all of this, okay.” You bargain through short, panicked breath.
Taehyungs large hand slams you into the wall, pressing his palm against your shoulder. He follows Jungkooks lead, pounding his fist into your gut. And then again. And again. His hold removes letting you free and you plummet to the ground, crying within broken huffs while cradling your battered torso.
“You’re right. That is better.” He laughs at Jungkook.
“Stop!” You beg, unable to raise your voice above a soft yelp.
“What's wrong baby? You wanted two men. Now you have them.” Taehyungs bright smile returns to his face. This time with an entirely different meaning than it had ever had until it shifts into a straight, harsh look that you have never seen from him. “Didn't you always say you wished there was some way you could repay me?”
“You said that to me too.” Jungkook joins his side, both hovering above you, trapping you between them, the wall, and the floor.
Leaning down Jungkooks hand follows you as you squirm away from him. His fingers wrapped around your throat and lift you up, keeping you against the wall. He takes advantage of you being stuck, leaning into you pressing his lips to yours as you resist as much as you can.
“Baby, you’re going to pay us back for every dollar we spent on you.” He snarls.
Taehyung turns your face to him, also forcing a kiss on you. “Don’t worry, Y/n, you’ll see that we know how to share.”
Part 2
#yandere bts#yandere jungkook#yandere taehyung#sugadaddy#cheating#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts#yandere#yandere bangtan#taekook#bts reactions#bangtan reactions#jungkook#taehyung
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private show | jjk
✦ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
✦ summary: throughout your relationship, you never thought jungkook would ask a certain type of action from you. however, you take it into consideration...without the intention of him nearly catching you
✦ rating: M, not suitable for minors
✦ genre: smut
✦ word count: 7.4k
✦ warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, tsundere!reader, rough & unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!!), dirty talk, degradation bc im a whore for that, masterbation, voyeurism, oral (f receiving), fingering, orgasm denial
Honestly, you didn’t know what you did in your past life to earn a man like Jungkook but you weren’t complaining one bit anyways. By just one look at you, people assumed you weren’t the type to have a boyfriend and you would spend the rest of your life alone. Luckily, you managed to prove them all wrong by being with someone who loved you for the way you were instead of your money.
It was a blessing and a curse to be born into a rich family of doctors who expected you to be the heir of the family hospital. Despite having your future already planned for you, you fell in love with playing the violin after being introduced to it when you were young. The feeling of holding the violin against your jaw as the bow ran across the strings to produce a classical melody that you’ve familiarized yourself with throughout the years.
You would much rather be at a violin recital in a beautiful dress playing one of Bach’s sonatas than being cooped up in your room studying biology. However, your parents didn’t feel the same way.
When you were about 6, you ranked second at a competition against tons of kids who were in their later-preteens but that wasn’t enough to prove to your parents how much you loved music. They took it as a sign of failure because “it’s not being first” and always used that argument against you to emphasize on how you have to be at the top of your class.
“Mommy! Guess what, I got second place! Second out of a bunch of bigger kids! I didn’t expect-” you squealed, kicking the back of the limo’s glass partition. Instead of candy, you were buzzing with excitement due to how well you placed in your county’s music recital. But what you didn’t know was that even a place close to first was never enough. “Why didn’t you get first?”
As those words ran through your ears, you felt your blood run cold and the eyes that were dancing of excitement and joy started to dull. You clutched your certificate tightly, tears starting to swell up.
“That’s because there was a sixth grader who was better than me and she was really good, she can play the piano-” “You see, if you can’t get first then you shouldn’t pursue a career in music. It’s too hard and competitive for you anyways. How about you focus on your studies, especially since you’re going to take over the hospital when you’re older.”
Up until last year which was your freshman year of college, you obeyed them by devoting your time to studying and only treating music as just a hobby while you hide your feelings along the way. Now that you think about it, you barely had friends during high school since every break period, you were always alone in the music room and you were too stubborn to go up to people. The only reason why you would talk to someone is to work on a group project but it ended up being that you would do all of the work while they slack off.
Everyday felt dull and uninteresting, especially since you’re being put in a fate that you don’t even want. But like some stupid cliche, it all changed ever since you met him.
You didn’t even intend to meet him, hell you barely knew he existed. But the night of your chemistry midterm, the apartment next to you decided to have a party which most of the school is invited to and blast loud music that could be heard from the next town over.
It couldn’t get any worse as you were already stressed from college and your parent’s crazy expectations and you were definitely not failing otherwise you’re dead meat. Normally, you would just try to sleep it out with earplugs but since you barely ate anything but coffee and granola bars and you were tired from the 24 hour studying, that was your last straw. So you did the thing a person would do in your situation: marching over to the party in your purple star-printed nightgown to give them a piece of your mind.
Already at the door, you could feel people’s stares burn into you, due to why you came to the party when you didn’t bother interacting with people and why you were in your pajamas. Maybe people were going to talk about you on Instagram but you didn’t care, you just wanted to ensure that you have enough sleep so you could at least pass.
Unfortunately for you, you must’ve looked extremely stupid because you were wandering around the same area like a drunk man. Random people did offer to get you a drink but you declined; after all it was a school night. Eventually you gave up trying to even bother talking after seeing the host, local frat boy Jackson Wang, surrounded by the rest of the partygoers in a beer pong game.
Frustrated and exhausted, you hauled yourself up to a seemingly empty room and collapsed onto the bed. Not only did you enter a college party in your pajamas but you wasted precious time studying over something idiotic like this. With all of these negative emotions inside of you, screaming inside a pillow was the first thing that came into your mind. And unfortunately, someone had to be the witness of your near mental breakdown.
“Woah, is everything okay?” a velvety voice chuckled, patting your back slightly. Well, another reason why your night is absolute shit. You turned your face up to chew off the mysterious person but for some reason, your voice was all caught up in your throat.
He was different, different from all of the boys that ever interacted with you. Despite you being a complete loner, the guys in your high school tried to hook up with you but you were never interested. They stunk of axe and the only reason why they’re “popular” is because they were on a sports team. Besides, you were too busy in your academics to even think about dating.
You couldn’t really see him but the guy who’s in the room with you looks better than every single guy in your high school combined: his long dark hair in a mini-ponytail contrasting with his cute bunny-like face.
“Wh-who are you?” “Jeon Jungkook. I’m a member of the boxing team and my family owns a records shop downtown. What about you?”
“I-i-” “Aren’t you Y/N, the smart girl who doesn’t talk to anybody and spends her time either studying or in the music room with her violin?” Thank god the room is dark because your face was burning up badly. Barely anyone knew you and if they did, they had bad things to say about you because you were so quiet and boring. However, what he said was a fact and you shouldn’t blame him for having an impression on you due to what other people said. It hurted nonetheless though, especially since he was a part of a sports team.
“Yeah, that’s me. What do you want? If it’s homework answers, then fine!” you snapped, immediately standing up and walking away. You were absolutely done with this night, all you wanted to do is sleep so you have some sanity tomorrow.
“You sure are feisty. It’s cute,” he said with a cocky grin stuck on his face. Oh, how you wanted to slap it off.
“If you’re asking me out, I’m not interested!” you fought back. Although you were one step out of the door, something about him made you want to stay. Like you wanted to talk to him.
“I didn’t say anything about that but if you want it that way-”
“No! I-I’m sorry for acting all rude, I’m just having a really bad night and I’m not in the mood to talk to anyone,” you mumbled, turning on the light. Oh how it was a bad idea..
Now that you could really see his face clearly, your heart felt like it was about to explode. He was dressed in a simple all-black T-shirt and jeans with combat boots to match. What really captivated you were the tattoos on his hand and up to his elbow, each symbol and design etched out beautifully which must’ve taken hours.
Although you were at least wearing clothes, you felt exposed due to the stupid pajamas you have on. He somehow sensed your embarrassment and gave you a small smirk which made it ten times worse.
“Well, do you want to explain why you were screaming in a pillow earlier?” Normal you definitely wouldn’t spill her feelings to a hot guy she just met five minutes ago but with him, you felt safe. Like for one night, all your worries and feelings are immediately gone and it’s just you and him.
Was this the stupid shit they call “love at first sight”?
“My midterm is tomorrow and I can’t sleep from all of the noise so I came here to yell at the host of the party. Jackson Wang, fuck you and your decision to host a party today,” you sighed, settling yourself next to him. You would expect him to immediately laugh and make fun of you since it was something a lot of people did to you whenever you cared about your grades. Instead, he looked at you with understandment and listened to what you had to say.
“Honestly, I don’t even know why I went to this stupid party in the first place,” he replied, making you snort out a laugh. As you were trying to collect yourself from his statement, Jungkook’s mouth turned up into a small smile.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect that. Anyways, I guess I should get going since I have a big day ahead of me,” you smiled, feeling a small weight being lifted off of your shoulders. As you trudge out the door, Jungkook’s arm stops yours for a second.
“Do you think I can have your phone number? Not for dating but you sound like a really cool person to be around and no offense but you seem lonely.” “Thanks for the compliment. But here you go,” you said sarcastically, scribbling down your phone number on a random piece of stationary in the drawer next to the bed. Maybe this is all a fever dream, maybe you’re hallucinating due to how little sleep you’ve gotten during midterm week.
“I’ll see you soon…” he waved you goodbye as you gave a final look at the door. He was interesting but now isn’t the time to be distracted! You’re pretty sure that if you pinch yourself, you’ll be back in your dorm since this is just a dream? “Also, d-don’t take it the wrong way! It’s not like I like you or anything! I just wrote down my number because you asked nicely! We’re never going to date!” Not only did you pass your midterm but your last line to Jungkook in the stuffy college party would become your famous last words.
It’s been years since you and Jungkook met at that party and a lot has changed then. You started to grow feelings and date him a few weeks after your midterm, eventually making the relationship official in a month. After a few months into dating, he introduced his parents to you first. They were a sweet family with amazing home cooked meals which you were dying to recreate and luckily, they accepted you with open arms.
However, him meeting your parents wasn’t that smooth. Now that you look back on that day, not only were you permanently deciding to be with the one that you love but it also felt like you were breaking free out of the shell that your parents trapped you in because you didn’t want to go down the path they set for you.
You shook your head to yourself, not wanting to be reminded of the painful past. Now, you were a violinist playing in recitals and companies and Jungkook was running his parent’s record shop. You were happy and you didn’t care about what your stupid parents think. They can simply ask someone else to run the hospital and it’ll still be fine.
As soon as the practice track ended, you turned off the metronome and packed your violin away. The apartment that you and Jungkook shared was average-sized, a notable difference from the mansion you used to live in but it was better. You were with the person you love and that’s all you could ever need. It may sound corny but a simple life with him was all you ever wanted.
After you pack away your violin, you impatiently wait alongside the door for Jungkook to get home. Right now, he has boxing practice for a match next week and he wanted to stay with his teammate Taehyung to be the best that he can but he’s stopping by for a day. You’re not into boxing but like the good girlfriend you were, you attend most of his matches (some conflicted with your performances) and cheer him on.
Although you miss having him by your side, you’re also aware of how much boxing means to him as it was a break from the hectic life of owning a music store. Another positive in your new life was the amount of music there was, a good break from the science and math that filled your childhood.
You heard some jiggling among the door locks and surely enough, Jungkook’s handsome face was in your view. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt and some blue jeans, a very simple outfit after spending most of his time at the boxing gym.
“Hey baby,” he cooed, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead.
“Hi. I’m so happy you’re back, I was starting to worry that you forgot about me,” you joked, carrying his boxing bag to your shared bedroom with him tagging behind.
“You know I would never forget about you,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the back of your neck. Instead of wriggling away like you normally do, you allow yourself to relish in his affection since he wasn’t a person who did it often.
“I missed you..” you mumbled, turning around and kissing him. He returned the kiss more passionately, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The sudden action made you forget about everything, focusing only on him. Unfortunately, with your senses locked on him, it caused you to fall onto the bed, your head nearly hanging off of the edge. Jungkook used your weakness to have more control over the kiss and you, carefully grabbing the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Even though he always controls kissing you, his lips are also full of love and longing due to him being gone for too long.
“God I missed this,” he mumbled, breaking away to remove the buttons of your blouse and kissing the side of your neck. You whined from his touch, feeling a bit embarrassed due to how much time it’s been since the two of you were together.
“What is it baby girl, are you nervous? Come on, we’ve known each other for years and I know you can take anything I give you.” It was true of course but for some reason, it felt like the first time you had sex with him.
After your shirt has been taken off, you unconsciously cover your chest with your arms. You didn’t know why you’re acting so self-conscious, especially since you’ve been a challenger to him in bed.
“Hey, are you okay? We can stop if you don’t want to-” Jungkook asked softly, reaching over to take your hand.
What’s there to be nervous about? It’s just Jungkook and like he said, you’ve known him for too long. Besides, don’t you have too much pride to act this way? You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked back at him with a seductive smile.
“You were taking too long to take off my shirt. How boring,” you said coyly, tapping his nose playfully. He returned your gaze, his eyes darkened with lust and desire.
“Well then baby girl, how about you take off the rest of your clothes since you seem like you want to do it,” he muttered, sitting up with his attention completely on your chest. One thing you were infamous in your relationship for is being a brat, a mix of you being submissive but not backing down completely. Even though you liked being a good girl sometimes, the rest is just you on the receiving end. After all, you won’t back down to a challenge, nonetheless if your challenger’s your significant other.
If a person only based off of what they saw, they would think that you were the one taking absolute control due to the aura you give off and your harsh personality. However, at least between you and him since you were one to keep your private life a secret, he is the one with the reins and you were completely fine with it.
You unclipped your bra, throwing it at some random place in the room and revealed your exposed breasts. He ogled at your body up and down, his familiar lustful gaze running through his eyes.
“Hey, what are you staring at?” you barked, slowly starting to feel awkward. Unlike you, Jungkook had no shame when it came to your bedroom activities and there were times when he would just stare at you while you’re completely bare. How embarrassing...but it’s no big deal.
“Watch your mouth you little brat. Do I have to punish you on my day back?” he said darkly, his tone immediately making the back of your hairs stand up. Your face softened, heat forming in your cheeks as you twirled a random piece of your hair, a random habit that you’ve done since elementary school.
“I-I’m sorry.” “Sorry what, baby girl? You’re smarter than that.” “Sorry..sir.” After that word was uttered in your soft and obedient tone, Jungkook could feel his dick growing harder by the second. Hearing you give up all of your confidence and letting him control you never failed to turn him on.
“Now take off the rest of your clothes, sweetie. Or are you going to continue being a dumb little girl and keep playing with me,” he growled softly, leaning back on the bed frame. You felt like acting up some more but he truly was scary when he’s upset and you didn’t want to make his visit back bad because of your behavior so you simply did what he said. Even though you wouldn’t admit it to the world, you also love obeying Jungkook.
You quickly unzippered your jeans, pulling them off along with your panties and kicking them out of the bed. The warmth from the clothes were immediately replaced by the chilly air from the air conditioner, your nipples standing up and goosebumps filling your body. It was humiliating, especially since Jungkook can see you so clearly.
“My precious sweetheart,” he cooed, leaning over you and you could feel his hardened member alongside the roughness of his jeans as he slowly grinded into you.
“Ahh…” You didn’t know what to say, except you knew you wanted more. Jungkook’s mouth was latched onto your nipples, sucking them harshly while his other hand was massaging and flicking on them repeatedly. You felt your eyes roll back to your head and your pussy dampening, even though he wasn’t doing anything yet.
“You like this baby?” he asked gruffly, tugging on your nipple teasingly as it sends sparks of pleasure inside you. You only let out a whine in response as he broke apart from your chest and slowly made his way down your body.
All of a sudden, he inserted one of his long fingers inside of your core, sending vibrations throughout your body. You squealed from the intrusion as your body tried to familiarize itself with his finger, your walls clenching around his digit.
“Damn, have you gotten tighter since last time?” He started to thrust his finger in and out of you at a moderate pace, trying to get you used to the feeling. As if one isn’t enough for you, he suddenly inserted a second one to stretch you out.
Your mind was a haze, not paying attention to anything that was happening around you and focusing on the pleasure that Jungkook was giving you. His fingers attempted to reach the spongy section of your g-spot, the place that absolutely had you in hysterics. Surely enough, his fingertips grazed over it and you could nearly come undone at any second.
While he added an additional finger and completely filled you up, you could feel his smooth tongue on your clit, flicking and sucking on it feverishly. High-pitched moans and mewls were coming out of your mouth embarrassingly as you tugged on Jungkook’s long locks in order to steady yourself of the pleasure.
You could feel him curl his fingers and touch your g-spot, sending sparks within you. At this point, you were barely in a stable mindset due to how good he was making you feel. You felt a knot building up in your stomach, your orgasm coming close to you.
“Are you gonna cum now baby girl? Do you want to cum for Sir? Yeah, I know you do, I could feel it coming,” he said tauntingly, his fingers and tongue abusing your cunt and the vibrations among it made the sensation feel even better.
“Y-yeah, I’m gonna-” you whimpered pathetically but to your dismay, he completely stopped by sliding his fingers out and removing his face. With your release dismissed like it was nothing, you felt annoyance build up on you as your body shook from the denial.
“What the hell? Why did you stop?” you groaned, your eyes shooting sharp daggers at Jungkook. If looks could kill, he would surely be dead within two seconds. But all that’s on his face were your liquids and a cocky smirk that you want to wipe off instantly.
“Because I want you to cum on my dick first. It’s been so long since I’ve been inside you, y’know?” he said casually, pulling off his shirt like it was nothing and revealing his impressive 6-pack. One thing that you were always in awe of was his figure. Jungkook was a really athletic person, always finding time out of his day to work out and maintain his muscular body. You didn’t mind if he didn’t have abs but it neutralized his cute face that could easily kill anyone.
“It’s been a while, yeah? You ready kitten?” Jungkook kicked off his jeans and his boxer that covers his massive bulge was immediately in your vision. You could feel your thighs rubbing together as you were craving him inside you.
“You’re calling me kitten now?” you mumbled shyly as he sat on the edge of the bed, palming his hardened member.
“Yeah because you’re my cute kitty, aren’t you? Do you want to take off my boxers for me?” he smirked, knowing how excited you are to see him like this again. Like there was no tomorrow, you yanked it off impatiently and his dick sprang out, hitting his abs before standing up instantly.
“You’re excited, aren’t you? Don’t deny it,” Jungkook teased, stroking his member teasingly before setting you down on your back and hovering above you.
“I want it,” you mumbled impatiently, getting excited with the thought of him fucking you until you can’t walk again. He chuckled at your reaction, slowly slipping himself inside you. You shrieked from the sudden movement and tried to make yourself comfortable even though this wasn’t new to you.
“Alright baby, let’s go,” he said gruffly, slowly pulling out and slamming it back inside within the next five seconds. You let out a scream as he picked up the pace into the all-too familiar rough and fast one.
“Damn, you’ve gotten way tighter since the last time I’ve fucked your brains out. Feels so good for Sir,” he groaned, his dick completely filling you warm and deep to the point where it could nearly reach your guts. “Does my baby like that? Like getting dicked down where I can feel her in your stomach?” “Ahh, oh my god!” You could only moan and whine in response, pathetic noises coming out of your mouth as Jungkook’s dick hit every surface of your pussy. His veins already made it even more pleasurable and you could feel the tip grazing upon your g-spot, making you even more sensitive.
It hasn’t been long but embarrassingly, you could feel your orgasm arrive once again due to how good his dick was thrusting into you. As he continued to drill your abused cunt, you could feel your legs tremble at the sensitive feeling and the impending sensation of your orgasm starting to grow in your core.
“S-sir, oh my god-” you mewled as Jungkook used his force to flip you on your stomach, your face covered in the pillows. You couldn’t feel him inside you for a second but suddenly, he slammed inside you with no remorse and continued fucking you at that fast pace.
Your cunt throbs as you prepare yourself to cum all over his dick. Jungkook could sense it too by the way your walls started to tighten around him, making it even more pleasurable than the last time you two had sex due to how tight you were. You were praying that he doesn’t deny your orgasm again but there were times where he was that cruel. But you’ve behaved enough to not warrant that type of treatment.
“Is my baby gonna cum now? Go on, come for me, I want to see you come undone on my dick,” he chanted lowly, his pace fastening due to his orgasm coming in soon. Like his words set off a reaction inside you, you screamed out his name and squirted on his dick and stomach. Using that as fuel to keep going, Jungkook thrusts even faster than before to catch his own high as you try to calm yourself down from your own orgasm.
“Ahh, Jungkook-” you whined from the sensitivity but you kept holding on so he could cum too. The way his sweat dripped off of his forehead and complimenting with his dark locks nearly made you want to cum again.
“Fuck, I’m cumming, oh shit,” he moaned out, his thrusts slowing down and surely enough, you could feel his dick spurt out his seed inside you. He started to pull out and stroke himself, spurts of his cum filling up your pussy to not waste a drop.
You and him started to breathe heavily from the intense fuck as you gingerly pulled up the sheets to cover your body. It’s not like you were embarrassed of him seeing your body, it was a habit you did after you have sex with him.
“Did you miss me?” he smiled, lying down next to you and covering an arm around your waist. You nodded, snuggling up next to him on the neck of his crook. There weren't any words spoken from the both of you for a while, instead you were just enjoying the presence of him next to you because after today, he’ll be gone again.
If you had it your way, you didn’t want him to go but he really wanted to participate in his boxing match and what kind of girlfriend were you if you didn’t support him? Still, you loved every moment with him and he was the one thing you absolutely loved in your life.
After a moment of silence, Jungkook broke the silence by facing towards you with seriousness in his eyes. You were worried that something may have happened, so you braced yourself with the worst that could happen. But surprisingly, his words were a bigger shock than any other disaster you could think of.
“Y/N, do you mind if I ask something of you? I hope you don’t find it uncomfortable or invasive.” “Sure, what is it?” You should’ve known from the cheeky smirk he gave you that he was going to request this type of stuff.
“I want to see you touch yourself. I think you’ll look so hot fucking yourself with your fingers while all I’m doing is just watching you.” “What the hell?!”
You were lying if you said you didn’t think about it a lot, especially since Jungkook left the house today this afternoon. Now that he wasn’t there, the apartment felt lonely again and you automatically missed him.
However, the thought of him also brings you back to the conversation you had after you two had sex after a while.
“You’ve never touched yourself? I figured that something like that would come easy to you!” “Well- you know I have dignity right! It’s already embarrassing enough that I’m your submissive!”
“You’re right, it’s already hot seeing you act all whiny and needy for my touch.” “Shut up! Stop making fun of me!”
You shook your head, trying to get rid of Jungkook’s words. With the intent to clean your room to take some stuff out of your mind, you walked to the shared bedroom and started to rearrange random knick-knacks that were placed in peculiar locations.
While you were wandering around, your eye caught sight of a black duffel bag that was in a hidden corner of your bed. With curiosity, you approached it to check to see what was inside. It was heavy and filled with boxing gloves and other equipment, meaning that it was Jungkook’s.
He must’ve forgotten it when he left today, you mused, holding the glove to your chest. A normal person would immediately contact him and give it back but it was like a living piece of him, having its name and scent. You can’t believe you already miss him that much to hold onto his boxing gloves for some comfort. How pathetic.
The smell of him already reminded you of yesterday, when he touched you and made you feel so good. You groaned to yourself as you feel your panties dampening just from the thought of Jungkook giving you pleasure.
“Y’know what, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right? Alright Jungkook, I’ll do it,” you muttered to yourself as you slowly grazed your fingers to your lower region. You could already feel the slick coming out of your panties, signalling how wet you were.
You were a smart person but frankly, you were confused on how to touch yourself especially since this was your first time. Memories of the way Jungkook inserted and thrusted his fingers inside you flashed through your mind, giving you an idea on how to start.
You slide your panties off to your ankles and slowly insert your index finger inside of your core, letting yourself get familiar to your own fingers inside of you. It sure felt different than when Jungkook did it, it wasn’t enough to completely make you feel undone. You pumped another finger inside, giving you something inside at least but it was no better than Jungkook’s touch.
“Ahh, Jungkook,” you moaned softly, flicking your own clit with your fingers which makes the pleasure at least a bit better. You would rather have him with you but it was enough to fill up a small part of his absence. Remembering every time he fucked you harshly was enough to quicken your pace with your fingers, your walls clenching around them and your orgasm closely approaching.
Your other hand groped your breasts, flicking your nipple and massaging them while the other was thrusting in and out of your needy cunt. You were completely in your own euphoria, the world completely fading away from you. Unfortunately for you, that euphoria is only short-lived.
An annoying sound ran throughout your room, the culprit being your cell phone. You groaned with disappointment as you attempted to pry your fingers out of your pussy and your orgasm fading away with every time the ringtone chimed.
With your slick-covered hands, you read the text and your blood started to run cold from the words that were displayed on the screen.
[Jungkook ♡]
- Hi babe, I’m coming home bc I forgot my boxing bag.
- Sorry that this was sudden
- Actually, I’m outside the apartment rn
You’re fucked. Absolutely fucked. But lucky, you still had a minute to spare to make it seem like you weren’t doing anything. You put his boxing glove back in the bag and wobbled downstairs to the front door. The door locks started to jingle and you immediately opened them just for him to take his bag and go. You love him with all of your heart but now’s not the time to chat with him.
“Hey Y/N, do you have my bag?” he asked across from you, looking as good as ever. You forced a smile and shoved his bag in front of your face.
“Yeah, it’s this one right? So, here it is so you can get going now! Goodbye!” you grinned, sweat dripping down your face.
Jungkook looked puzzled on why you were acting that way but decided to go along with it. “O-okay, thanks.”
“Of course! Now, you should get going now! Your boxing rehearsal isn’t going to wait forever, is it?” you chuckled, trying to push him out of the door but he didn’t budge. After taking a quick glance at you (more specifically your legs and the amount of slick dripping down), he decided to stay.
“Woah, woah, there’s something going on. Let me in,” he said stubbornly, pushing against you to get inside the apartment.
“What are you talking about? There’s literally nothing going on! You should go back to the boxing place!” you argued but he wouldn’t listen. Jungkook grabbed your hand and pulled you upstairs into the bedroom and set you down, looking straight into your eyes. You immediately blushed as his eyes held such confusion and hunger inside.
“Don’t lie to me, only bad girls lie. So tell me baby, what exactly is going on?”
Surely he didn’t know right? You still have some time to lie because there’s no way he knows.
“I was taking a nap before you texted me.”
“Without your panties on and a shit ton of slick dripping down your thighs?” he asked with confusion, pulling up your skirt and revealing your soaking pussy, throbbing due to the atmosphere. At this point, you were absolutely stuck in a corner as Jungkook stared at the way you’re completely aroused.
“Ahh, um..” “Are you cheating on me, Y/N?” His eyes were now full of sadness and hurt and you could immediately feel your heart start to break.
“N-no! Of course not! I would never cheat on you, you’re the one who I love! It’s just because..” you tried to get the idea out of his head, holding his hands tightly. Jungkook’s face brightened up a bit before being replaced with suspicion.
“So, what’s up? What were you doing while I left?” There was absolutely no talking yourself out of this because Jungkook would find out either way at this point. But at least it’s better than making up a stupid lie, right? “I..um..remember how you said you wanted to see me touch myself yesterday?” “Of course.” “Well...I was doing that..” you mumbled with embarrassment, avoiding his eye contact. Jungkook’s ears picked up what you said and his face lit up with excitement and desire.
“Say that again for me?” he smirked, loving how soft and shy you were now.
“I..was touching myself while I was thinking of you,” you said a bit loudly but it was still so embarrassing. You had no idea why he was all so happy right now but it made you happy nonetheless.
“Do you think you can show me?” he grinned, staring up into your eyes.
“What?! N-no! It’s private right? You see, it’s private for a reason! Now you got your bag and figured out why I was acting weird so you can go now!” you snapped, heat automatically filling up your body.
“It’s okay, I can skip practice today. This is important, why didn’t you tell me?” “It’s not something I should tell you.” “Anyways, you’ve been a bad girl today. Touching yourself while thinking of me, you’re so naughty. So your punishment is to reenact what you did before I came back and I’m not leaving until I see you touch yourself. But don’t worry, if you need help then I’m always here,” Jungkook purred, his dominant persona on. You gulped down a lump down your throat but you weren’t ready to back down to him yet.
“No I’m not! I’m not giving up my dignity just yet!” “Come on, little girl. I know you were fucking yourself like a little whore while you were gone. Did your tiny little fingers fill you up completely, better than my cock? I know you didn’t because even though you’re a whore, you’re still such a slut for my dick.” His dirty words made you even more turned on than normal with even more slick running down your thighs. You knew it was better to obey, especially since he’s talking like this. With that being said, you scooted yourself with the back of your head hitting the bed frame. After a minute of hesitation, you lifted up your skirt which revealed your whole pussy to him. Jungkook stared intently, noticing every little twitch that it made as it’s longing for something to be inside it and how wet it has become. His lips were curled into a smirk as your fingers started to graze over your folds.
Taking a deep breath, you inserted two of your fingers to aid the throbbing in your core. It felt different than when you did it before, maybe due to Jungkook staring at every little movement you made.
Despite your initial refusal, having him watch over you turned you on even more and the throbbing only continued to get worse after you slowly started to move your fingers. You didn’t know how much it turned you and him on, judging from his erection in his pants.
“Ahh, oh my god,” you moaned, adding an additional finger and groping your boobs with your other hand.
Jungkook’s mouth was in shock, shocked at how you can look so sexy touching yourself even though it was your first time. His dick was begging to be released in his now tight sweatpants but just watching you like this was more than enough.
He’s never admitted it directly to you but surprisingly, he’s such a voyeur and seeing you wrecked with only your fingers or even a toy could make him cum as hard as him actually fucking you.
“J-Jungkook, please…” you mewled, rocking your hips against your small hands in an attempt to hit your g-spot, where only your boyfriend knows.
By now, you’ve inserted your whole hand inside of your core and it still wasn’t as satisfying as Jungkook’s long fingers inside you. You should’ve been embarrassed that his vision was at you masterbating but frankly, you didn’t care anymore.
“Shit baby girl, just like that, fucking ruin yourself,” he grunted, slightly stroking his hardened member through his sweatpants.
“I want your mouth on me,” you cried, slowly starting to feel the same ecstatic feeling of your release. The way his eyes were set on you alone brings you closer to your high as you’re practically grinding on your hand.
Luckily, Jungkook heard your wish and immediately brought his face down to your core, taking your fingers out and licking your clit like there was no tomorrow. His face was completely buried with the goal of eating you out and getting your cum out of you. It wasn’t a thought that ever crossed your mind but you never realized how much better Jungkook made you feel and how the throbbing seemed to go away after he was with you. His face was absolutely covered in your juices and adding to his warm mouth were his long fingers.
“You like that don’t you, you slutty little girl?” he hummed, the vibrations of his mouth making you even more closer to the edge. You gripped onto his arm tightly, your fingernails dragging along his muscles due to how much he was giving you.
You felt his fingers curl against you, hitting your g-spot and bringing you closer to your climax. It felt too good and you were craving to be ruined by him. Jungkook stared at the way you were shoving his hand amongst your tight little cunt, grinding on it as you try to reach your high and the squelching sounds it made.
Within seconds, you were close to your orgasm and you were trying to chase after it feverishly. His tongue and his fingers were too much for you, even though you received them last night. They made you feel so satisfied and full, always filling you up to the edge and the way he was hitting every spot nearly made you cream all over his fingers.
Unfortunately for you, he immediately pulled his fingers and mouth away, completely denying you of releasing. The hot feeling and intensity disappeared instantly and was replaced by the familiar throbbing as you let out a groan of disappointment. This was the second time you’ve lost your orgasm and you just wanted to release on him once more.
“Why did you stop? I was going to-” you growled, your face heating up due to the increased temperature inside.
“You’re not going to cum when I’m away. Is that a rule you can follow?” he said sharply, licking every remain of your juices off his face and wiping the excess with a tissue.
“W-why?” “Instead, I want you to send me a video touching yourself but not cumming until my match. Is that an order my little girl can do?”
You absolutely hated the fact that you won’t be releasing for a while but you didn’t want to get him mad. All you can do is just accept your fate and nod.
“There you go, don’t worry, I’m going to make you feel so good once I win,” he grinned, kissing you passionately. You could immediately taste yourself on his lips and felt his hardened member upon you. There were more things that the two of you would’ve done but he wouldn’t allow that to happen.
“Well then, I’ll be off. You’ll behave, right?” he parted cheerily, grabbing his bag and leaving the apartment like he didn’t just completely ate you out and denied your orgasm for the second time. As you heard the door lock, you’re left with your skirt drenched from your juices and the aching feeling between your legs.
Oh the things that Jungkook does to you. But what would happen if you gave him a little surprise during his boxing match. Surely, you weren’t that submissive and besides, it would be fun to tease him..
“You did great man!” Taehyung cheered, high-fiving Jungkook as soon as his match ended. He shared the same with a bunny-like smile and went inside the locker room to clean up to see you. Not only did he win but he’s going to be staying with you for a while now.
With a bright spirit, he unlocked his locker and opened his phone to a text message from you. There was an attachment with a seemingly innocent message but once he opened the video, it only fueled his desire.
[Y/N ♡]
- I miss you so much
Inside of the video was you fucking yourself with your fingers, high-pitched and incoherent whimpers coming out of you and from the looks of it, it was like you’re about to reach your climax.
Within the last few seconds, it cuts to you creaming all over the bed and licking your juices off of your fingers seductively with a cute wink at the end. All of that just to rile and tease him.
Shit, the things that this girl does to me, Jungkook sighs, feeling his member starting to grow inside of his pants again. They were simple instructions yet you can’t obey properly. Maybe it was due to you being a brat and wanting to be put in your place again.
Well, if there’s one thing that you and Jungkook know, is that you’ll certainly not walk the next day.
a/n: honestly, i’m not too proud of this but i hope you liked it regardless! let me know what you think and have a great day <3
#btsbookclub#kpopuniversenet#btswriterscollective#btswritingcafe#kafenetwork#magicshopnet#bts#jungkook#jeonjungkook#jungkook smut#dom jungkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfictions#jungkook hot#jungkook scenarios#jungkook drabbles#bts fanfictions#bts smut#dom bts#private show
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I loved Ceo Levi so can I request Ceo Levi comforting the reader because she’s in financial trouble? Idk the plot it’s up to you but that sort of idea. I hope it’s not too much of a bother!! Also happy birthday ❤️
author note :: very rushed and not that great at all but i hope it’s enjoyable anon !! also thank u for the birthday wish <333 if you’d like for me to idk expand on this request you can always request again my ask box is open !! <33333 word count :: 1.5k
levi’s worried about you
like super worried
ultra worried
mega, super, ultra worried?????
all the synonyms for large aren’t enough to explain how distracted he is whilst he stares at you from across the table.
the entire team meeting today you’ve sat down with a glazed expression, you’re clearly out of it and don’t want to be present
on a few occasions he notices you gnaw at your lips anxiously and your eyes shift everywhere showing you’re clearly uncomfortable
team meetings are normally two hours long on a monday to discuss production plans extensively but levi can’t even make it to the thirty minute mark before he’s dismissing everyone
“we’re ending early i don’t feel well.”
mr ackerman letting the team leave early again... it’s the second time he’s done it now but HEY, the employees have no complaints!!
levi knows something’s bothering you when you don’t move an inch from your seat
you probably haven’t even heard what he said about leaving because you’re so zoned out
now,,,,levi’s never really been big on physical contact and he’s not great at comforting or using words either but he still double checks the door is locked so he can speak to you privately
you start sobbing as soon as the sound of the door clicks
“y/n, what’s wrong?” he’s cautious in his approach but places a hand on top of yours gently to test the waters
but you only start crying even more ?!?,!,
which panics him because oh my god what did he do...???,?.
did he do something wrong???
you know what, he’s just going to copy what people do in the movies and hope it goes well
your sobs echo through the room and he thanks himself that the cement walls are definitely thick enough for you to not be heard by your colleagues
slowly but gradually you get a grip and it almost looks like you have to force yourself to a halt midway just to wipe the tears at your eyes
it’s at times like these that levi thanks you for having an expressive face because he would hate to not notice you felt this horrible
“i suggest you carry on if you haven’t got it all out yet. from personal experience it’s better when someone sits with you.”
levi’s warm words embrace you and you look at his arms then his heat pressed suit. he’s in a completely different world compared to you and a feeling of sickness soon overpowers the warm feeling in your chest
why are you sitting here and crying like a pathetic fool in front of your boss??
ok, maybe he’s a little more personal than a boss you aren’t sure what he really is but that doesn’t matter
“y/n, i have something to say.”
FUCK. this is it. you’ll be fired for being unprofessional and improper. this is IT. the end of your professional career.
you want to run out of this room at full speed and hurl yourself out of one of the windows never to be seen again...
but,, you won’t do that, that’s embarrassing
instead you steel yourself and look at him with as much courage as you can muster (which to be clear is not very much)
“if you ever need to take a day off for mental health reasons you’ve always been allowed to so please feel free to take the rest of the day off if you’d like.”
he’s... not firing you?
“but before that, would you like to let me know what’s happened? can i maybe help?”
you purse your lips feeling the premature humiliation
he can help, anyone with as much money as him can but you don’t want him to aid you. the guilt would eat you away
but you do want to confide in him and tell him what’s wrong
you want to tell someone about it at least
“i’ve been evicted from my apartment” your voice is barely above a whisper and levi just looks at you mouth agape
he pays you enough to live comfortably
how could you be getting evicted?
“i have to pay for my mother’s medical expenses so it’s stressful i send most of my earnings hom-”
levi shushes you with his input. “i’ll pay off the debt so you don’t be evicted and i’ll also give you a pay rise.”
at that you’re just pure shocked
is he even thinking right now???
because this isn’t the strong willed strategic business man you know
“no??? i can’t leech off of you??”
“you’re not leeching. i am investing in you.”
you’re a little lost now but choose to hear him out
“you work for me already and i greatly value your work. now you’re in a tough position. correct?”
you nod your head in response
“and for you to still work for me you’ll need a home. correct?”
again you nod
“so allow me to pay off the debts. it’s for both of our benefit.”
that however really isn’t levi’s reasoning at all. he couldn’t care less about that, he just doesn’t want to see you shoulder the pain and stress of it all alone
staring at him teary eyed you sniffle
“would you-” your voice cracks and you cough “really???”
you look so desperate and vulnerable and levi feels frustrated for not spotting the warning signs of your struggle any sooner
you had been coming to the office looking more restless, you had been drinking more coffee and despite the excessive caffeine consumption he still caught you dozing off at your desk at least four times
he places a hand on the centre of your back and pats you three times as if you’re members on the same ship
“yes i mean it, take it easy.”
his simple sentence is enough to cause all of your rational thinking to jump away and you drag him in by the neck into a tight hug
you’re ugly crying and you know you’ll look back on this in embarrassment but your mind works on impulse, you’re unable to stop it
usually levi doesn’t like anyone messing up his suits but he can make an exception for you. he’s sure your tears have left a moist patch but he’s not mad. hell, even if you get snot on his expensive dress shirt he’ll be okay with it
“is there any way i can pay you back mr ackerman?”
he winces at the formality of your tone
“call me levi.”
your brows raise at the request
“that’s what i want in return. for you to call me levi.”
????
that’s all???
“oh, well thank you levi. i’m grateful...”
his name rolls off your tongue awkwardly the first few times and even he regrets asking you to call him by his first name
but three days later you’re walking in breezily. a pen is tucked behind your ear and you’re double checking levi’s spending sheet with a calculator in your hands.
levi literally STOPS breathing because you look so refreshed today and the colour is back on your face. you look your best when you’re stress free.
and then you say it
“levi, do you think you could spend a bit less on tea bags because OH MY LORD???”
he notices there’s no longer an air of discomfort to his name and his chest swells happily
“y/n, give me ONE good reason to not spend my money that way??”
you notice how he easily he says your first name with an airy chuckle and you could almost... ALMOST... swear the two of you are flirting
to anyone observing with no sound he looks as nonchalant as normal but really the tone of his voice is implying the suggestive nature of conversation
“maybe you should spend your money on other things you like?” your suggestion is thrown back in your face when levi scoffs choking back a laugh
“i already am spending my money on other interests of mine.”
turning to face him and to hand him a file of paperwork you look him right in the eyes
“and what interests would those be?”
levi’s gaze meander down to your lips before shooting back up to your eyes and you swear you feel a tingle in the pit of your stomach
“i’ll let you figure that out on your own. you’re smart enough.”
you’re gaping at that reply because how are you meant to know???
but, the answer to your question is far more obvious than you think.
and it’s only after work whilst you’re eating dinner that you’re able to connect the dots
he was, talking about...you??
gasping you flush bright pink and bury your face into one of your sofa’s pillows
no way, there’s no way that happened
oh no, but there really is a way
and that way is levi ackerman ;-)
#levi#levi ackerman#aot#snk#levi x reader#levi x y/n#attack on titan levi#attack on titan#levi fluff#levi attack on titan#leviiattacks#modern levi#ceo levi#levi scenario#levi headcanons#levi fanfiction#aot fanfiction#aot headcanons#attack on titan x reader#levi drabbles#HOPE U LIKED IT ANON MUAH
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hii, i love your writing so much and the black!reader content u provide us cause god knows we need more of them.
i wanted ro ask u if u could do a story where chris meets the reader at some celebrity party and they become really close and they start to fall for eachother. Chris asks her to be his gf but then she becomes distant and they end up getting in an argument and she reveals that she cant date him because shes a stripper and people will probably talk shit about her work being with a celebrity as known as him.
thank u in advanced i love your stories💕
Honey
Summary: After telling Chris the truth, he wants to make things right.
Parings: Chris Evans x black!reader
Warnings: smut, strip club, lap dance, pole dancing, girl on top, fingering, swearing, daddy kink
(A/N: this has taken me for fucking ever and I have no clue why. I struggled, but it’s finally done. I’m so sorry Anon for how long it took. I also couldn’t settle on one single song because you all suggested such good ones so I left it ambiguous.)
Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @olyvoyl @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122 @ljstraightnochaser (wouldn’t let me tag you)
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Chris still couldn’t believe that you’d think he’d care. As if whatever anyone had to say about you would make him want to be with you any less. He doesn’t even know why he let you walk away that night. Or why he let you cry as you finally told him.
Since then he’d been going over everything that happened in his head. The way your eyes welled up as you finally told him the truth. The shock that ran through him because even though he knew how nasty you could be, you still kept up the facade of a sweet innocent girl so well. Which is what drove him crazy about you in the first place.
Except you’d taken that as rejection and he was too late to convince you otherwise. It didn’t stop him from constantly thinking that there was more that he could have done. Hopefully he wasn’t too late.
When you met at that party he was enchanted by you. By your voice. The way you wore your hair. Your beautiful smile. Like he’d met an angel in the flesh. He took you home that night where he couldn’t even wait until he was inside to fuck you, instead bending you over the hood of his car so he could give it to you right then and there.
Between all the fucking and pillow talk, he’d fallen for you. Somehow you’d become his first thought when he woke up and the last one before he fell asleep. He’d fallen for you quick and fast and was tired of the two of you just being fuck buddies. He’d thought you’d felt the same.
It didn’t matter because the truth had come out and you hadn’t talked to him since. He’d thought about texting you, but as corny as it was he needed to do something bigger. So that’s why he was in the audience watching you work that pole. As much as he hated that other men got to ogle you he was more focused on how beautiful you looked up there.
He chuckled because you would choose such a glittery outfit to do this in. Your makeup was all done up all bright and flashy in a way you didn’t usually care for. Your wig was this pastel pink. He was trying to ignore his anxiety telling him that everything could go wrong. Maybe it would, but he at least wanted to try.
“Is it possible to get a private dance from her?” He’d asked one of the bouncers, trying to use his Boston accent so it might not be as noticeable who he was.
“Who?” He asked making this face. “Honey? She doesn’t do lap dances. Something about a boyfriend.”
His heart sunk a little, but he had to do this. “What about for a little extra.” He flashed the money he had in his pocket.
He thought for a minute, before shrugging. “Go wait in room four.”
It took about ten minutes for you to walk in with a silk robe on. Still wearing that wig. He knew that look on your face. The one when you had an attitude. Suddenly he was thinking about that night you got a little snippy with him. He fucked it out of you by pinning you down and showing you who owned that pussy.
Fuck he needed you back.
“Look, I do-“ you stopped when you saw it was him. “Chris, what’re you- what’re you doing here?” You stuttered, your eyes widening.
He took a breath, shrugging his shoulders. “I wanted to talk.”
“You could have just called me,” you said.
“Yeah but I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he said.
You crossed your arms and looked down at your feet. Trying to stop yourself from smiling. You hated how he turned you into a pile of goo. Especially when he was trying to be mad at you. “How’d you find me?”
“I have my ways,” he replied, standing up. He pulled you into his arms hugging you tightly because he didn’t care if you had an attitude.
As much as you hated to, you pulled away from him. It didn’t matter that you wanted to melt into his arm. “You can’t just come to my job, Chris.”
He sighed because although he was expecting that reaction, he was hoping it wouldn’t happen. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. “I know. I just... if I had called would you have answered?” He asked. “Because I’ve been trying to call you. Fuck, what do you want me to do, Y/N.”
You shrugged. “I don’t know! I just... look I’m scared, okay. Scared of what people might say if they see us together.”
“I don’t care what people have to say.”
“Because you won’t be the one dealing with it!” You suddenly started to feel all teary eyed. You bit your lip as they started to come down your face. “I’m going to be the one getting comments all over social media about what a slut I am. Or about what an awful person I am. Or how I don’t deserve you because you’re fucking perfect.”
He sighed. “And I’ll be there to support you through all of it. Baby, I would never let anyone hurt you. Or disrespect you.”
“It doesn’t matter. They still will.”
“Hey,” he said, hugging you again not caring as you tried to push him away. Instead this time he held you cradling you in his arms because if you were crying he was going to hold you. “Tell me you don’t want to be with me.”
“It’s not that, Chris, I’m just scared.” You finally gave in. Clinging to him. What was the point of fighting when you just wanted him more than anything anyway.
“Hey, Buddy,” the club owners voice broke through your moment, making you feel like you were going to jump out of your skin, “no touching the dancers.”
Chris retracted his arms. “Sorry. I slipped and he caught me,” you lied. “He was just making sure I was okay.”
Of course he didn’t believe that. Looking at you through narrowed eyes. “Someone heard yelling in the next room. Sounded like someone was upset.”
“No I’m fine. We were just talking,” you said hoping that it didn’t show that you’d been crying. “I promise.”
“Fine, but keep your hands to yourself in my club, Pal.”
As soon as he left Chris sat down, pulling you into his lap. “So what do we do. Ball is in your court,” he said.
“I wanna be with you. I’m just... scared.”
He sighed. “Okay, well we don’t have to tell anyone right away. I just know that I’m crazy for you, Y/N.”
You smiled. “Really?”
“Mhm.” He kissed the side of your head. “Totally and completely crazy.”
You put your head on his shoulder. “I missed you, too,” you confessed.
“Yeah? What about this boyfriend I heard about?”
You tilted your head. “Boyfriend?”
“Yeah. The bouncer said you had a boyfriend so you didn’t give lapdances.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “That’s just what we tell them when we’re not in the mood.” He laughed kissing your forehead. “Or maybe I do have a boyfriend?”
“You want me to be your boyfriend?” He bit his lip. His heart was racing fast then.
“Maybe.” You smiled trying to play it off all I’m
“Maybe, but... I’m...” you pulled away from him only to cross your arms all self consciously again.
“Talk to me, Honey.”
You rolled your eyes. “You think you’re so funny.”
He chuckled. “I like it.” He grabbed your hand so you could sit with him. Making you perch on his lap. “Talk to me.” He pushed a piece of the pink wig out of your face.
“I’m still scared.”
“And, I’ll be there to beat up anyone who wants to talk shit.” Chris held you as close as he could needing to feel you against him. “So, do you like stripping?”
You shrugged. “It’s fun and it pays the bills.”
“Do you want to keep doing it?” He asked.
“I mean... maybe,” you replied. Sort of afraid to say the wrong thing. It’s not that you think Chris wasn’t pro sex work, but that didn’t mean he had to be okay with his girlfriend doing it.
“Baby, if you’re worried about money, I don’t mind helping out.”
“I know,” you said.
“And if this is something you want to do, I’m okay with that, too. I don’t care what anyone says.”
You smiled before kissing him. That had been all you needed to hear from him. Not that it would fix everything, but right now it was enough.
“Promise?”
“I swear on Dodger. So you know that means it’s pretty serious,” he replied. You chuckled and he kissed your lips this time. Craving you after spending way to long not being able to touch you. You were still tearing up. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you sniffled forcing a smile on your face. “So, I never gave you that lap dance.”
He chuckled. “Oh yeah. Baby, you don’t-“
You cut him off, putting your hand against his mouth. “I know I said I don’t give them, but I’ll make an exception for you.” You licked your lips, giving him this look that he’d recognized when you were trying to take his dick.
He glanced at the door first making sure no one could see them. Yeah it was just a lap dance, but he couldn’t promise that he would keep his hands to himself. You got up before leaning down to peck his lips.
“You can touch me however you want.” You started undoing your robe showing off the little costume you were wearing underneath.
“Fuck,” he breathed as he looked you up and down. As you removed the fabric that was keeping him from being able to see your full body. You turned around slowly giving him an eyeful of all that ass. He reached out to touch it.
“You like?” You asked all breathily, sitting back down on his lap with your back pressed towards his chest. You gyrated your hips feeling him get hard under you. His bulge pressing into your barely covered center.
He groaned into your ear. “Oh, I fucking love it.” He wrapped his arms around your his so tight. Helping you move. Making you mold into him a little deeper.
You bent your arm back so it was resting on the back of his head. He grabbed at your tits kissing your neck. As he pinched your nipple you let out a moan you didn’t hold in quick enough.
You put your hands on his thighs so you could brace yourself. Moving your hips in a circle so you were right on his dick. “Holy fuck,” he panted. You were driving him so crazy. He had to touch you. Had to feel how wet you were just for him.
He dipped his fingers into your panties. You were so wet he knew you were probably making a mess on his jeans. He didn’t give a fuck. All he wanted was to make you cum. He missed you to much to care if your pussy made a mess on him.
You had to cover your mouth this time because he’d started rubbing your clit. All soppy and wet. Your hips faltered especially as he lifted up your leg so his other hand could finger your pussy.
“Oh, my god.” You cried into your hands before falling back against him again. You uncovered yourself so you could kiss him instead. Pressing a hungry kiss to his mouth.
It was too much. Him doing both at the same time. You were trying to hold your moans in, but it was hard which is why his kiss just got deeper. Your cunt felt like it was weeping from what he was doing to you. It was way too much.
You were so damn tight. Like he’d dipped his fingers in velvet. While he rubbed your clit. You couldn’t hold your noises in, making you pull him away from him. He stared at you with a smile on his face because you looked so pretty all desperate. “You wanna cum for me?” He asked into your ear. “Wanna cum for Daddy?”
You whimpered, but still nodded because he was right you were so damn close. Hips still angled so you could feel his bulge underneath you. You needed it inside of you so bad.
You grabbed at his cock through his jeans. Needing to feel it in your hands. “You want this, huh. I could take you home and fuck you like a proper girl, but you want me to dick you down at work like a slut,” he said whispered in your ear, taking the hand that was rubbing your clit away so he could stuff his fingers in your mouth.
You moaned around them. Tasting yourself. Moaning as he found your g-spot while he still fingered you. You cried out as he made you cum all over his hand. Eyes rolling to the back of his head.
“That’s it, Baby. Make a mess for me. I want everyone to know when I leave who makes you cum.” He moved to your clit now rubbing it just the way you liked it was driving you crazy.
When your orgasm finally subsided, you got up so you could turn around in his lap. Now that you were facing him he kissed you hard. Grabbing at your ass.
You moved your hips. Looking down at the wet spot you’d left on jeans. “Oh, Daddy,” you whimpered. “You feel so good.”
“That’s it, Honey.”
You chuckled. “You think you’re so fucking funny.”
He laughed reaching between you so he could finally start to undo his pants. “What it’s cute.”
When you finally got to sink down on his dick, you cried out. You felt so full. Like he’d filled you to the brim.
You tossed your head back with your eyes screwed shut as he lifted you up and down his dick. It felt so damn good. You needed it so badly. Needed him to fill you up with his cum.
“You look at me when I fuck you,” he demanded. Grabbing a fistful of pink hair so you were forced to look at him. You opened your eyes so they could meet his. Biting your lip to keep for being too loud again. “This is my pussy don’t you ever forget it.”
“Yes, Daddy. It’s yours,” you breathed trying to not be too loud. “I don’t let anyone else touch me like you do.”
“Yeah?” He asked. “That’s my good fucking girl.” He groaned.
“You’re gonna make me cum again,” you cried because he was so damn thick.
“Cum for me,” he said into your ear making you tingle.
You buried your head into his shoulder as you did. With your pussy walls gripping him like that you couldn’t stop yourself as you started to milk him. Triggering his own orgasm as he captured your lips in another kiss.
“You two, out!” Your bosses voices almost made you jump out of your skin.
“No I’m okay!” You said. “He, um...” you tried to think of a lie. “Because he paid so much I...”
“I’m not running a brothel here.” He glared at you. “You get your shit and get out of my club. Honey, you’re fired.”
He was waited for you outside. Leaning against his Camero. You’d changed back into your sweats. He smiled seeing your normal hair. That bright makeup wiped off. Sad because he was actually really enjoying see you all overly sexed up. “Guess you don’t have to worry about dating a stripper anymore.”
He sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said before kissing you.
“It’s okay,” you replied with a shrug.
“Why don’t you come live with me? You won’t have to worry about rent. Or anything.” He chuckled.
“You wanna be my sugar daddy?” You laughed.
“No. I mean sure, but I wanna be your boyfriend. Do things like protect you and take care of you. Is that okay?”
You looked up at him through your eyelashes. “You have to promise me something first,” you said.
“Anything,” he said, grabbing your hands so he could pull you to him.
“Just when the news hits over us, you’ll fight for me. Won’t let your crazy fans treat me to badly.”
He chuckled. “I will personally tell off every single one of them.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Want me to take you home?”
“Yeah I got picked up by one of the girls,” you said. “My place or yours?”
He chuckled. “Ours.” He smiled before kissing you softly.
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Where Did You Go? (1)
Characters: Jimin & Reader ft. Jackson (GOT7) & Jungkook
Genre: Angst/fluff
Series: Intro, One,
Summary: What if what you’ve been believing for your whole life were lies? What if you’re not truly who you think you are? What if… all this is a lie?
Note: Alice, is the name that Jackson gave you
(Y/N’s POV)
After getting off a stressful day of work, you decided treat yourself to a nice delivery meal for dinner from one of your favourite restaurants in town paired with a nice big bottle of wine while watching some random show for background noise. It seems that this has been your go-to evening activities as of lately, especially after your more recent encounter with one of Jackson’s flings.
Before the food arrived, you changed into one of Jackson’s large t-shirts that you often wore as pyjamas. Although he drove you crazy, and some days you even wanted to slap that damn smirk that he always had off his face, you couldn’t pretend that the feelings that you once had for him weren’t stopping you from doing just that. You remembered the old days when Jackson was still interested in you would always pick you up from work just to take you out on a dinner date to one of your favourite restaurants. After the meal, the two fo you would then walk hand in hand along the beach because he knew just how much you loved the beach. Those were the days....
The sound of the doorbell ringing meant that the food as arrived, and your thoughts of your once peaceful and loving past came to a halt.
“ What does a man like me need to do to live in a nice house like this?” Were the deliveryman’s first words as soon as you opened the door.
“Drugs.” You bluntly said. So bluntly, that you knew the delivery man would never take you seriously.
Of course the house was nice. From what you know, Jackson had knocked down the house that was initially here and rebuilt it into one that was about triple the size of its original. When you first moved into the house you immediately fell in love with it. You loved how big the kitchen was, how spacious the rooms were, how large the closets and bathrooms were, but you soon came to the realization of why having such a big house wasn’t as great of as you thought. The house was so big that you didn’t even realize what Jackson was doing behind your back until you caught him one night. You were about wish him good night before you went to bed, but had quickly stopped when you found him in the basement with Jungkook and a couple other men who you assumed were his friends examining the new drug samples that they had received from a new supplier. Although you had always wondered where Jackson had all this money to afford building such a large house, you never expected that it was because he sold drugs. Whenever you used to ask him what he did for a living, he simply smiled and said ‘Don’t worry about it babe.’
Without giving the delivery a chance to respond, you quickly closed the door and left food unopened at the living room table. Your appetite had immediately disappeared. There was nothing you hated more than illegal drugs, not that you exactly had a memory of it affecting your life, but the idea of anyone selling or using illegal drugs just brought you sick to your stomach. Instead of food, you decided to turn to alcohol and quickly poured yourself a big glass of wine.
You don’t know how much time had passed until eventually Jackson came home with Jungkook. Judging by the time of the clock that read 2:35 a.m., you assumed that you had probably been mindlessly staring at the tv for a at least two hours. Judging by how your mind was in a haze and that there were two empty bottles of wine sitting in front of you, you must have finished them in the last two hours before you even realized.
“Rough day?” Jackson asked and by the look on his face, he seemed disgusted, although you couldn’t begin to even understand why.
Without giving him an answer, you turned the tv off and started walking towards your bedroom, careful not to stumble and fall over, which after all the alcohol turned out to be a much harder task than you had expected. However, you didn’t get far before Jackson was able to reach forward and grasp your upper arm. You couldn’t help but automatically flinch at his touch, sadly this has become your automatic response whenever he touched you.
“Come sit. I have something to tell you.” He gestured towards the direction fo the sofa.
As you walked towards the sofa with Jackson’s hand on your back, you turned to look at Jungkook who immediately looked away when you caught his stare.
“We’re going to Korea tomorrow. Our flight is in the afternoon, so start packing.” Jackson said the moment you sat down on the sofa.
“Okay. Have fun?” You said. You wondered why he felt the need to tell you about his trip since he’s never done that before.
He chuckled lightly and placed a hand on your thigh before giving it a slight pat and saying,
“Baby you’re coming along. You, Jungkook and I are going to Korea tomorrow, together.”
Korea?
You stared, stunned at what he just said. You had always wanted to go to Korea, and even suggested it multiple times to Jackson, but he had always said that he was too busy and told you to wait until he had time for the two of you to go travel. But why is Jungkook also going?
“Why are we going so suddenly?” You asked. You were so shocked by the news that you didn’t even notice his hand softly caressing your thigh.
“You’ve always said that you wanted to go, and I’ve finally found the time for us to go. I need to bring Jungkook along though because we have some business that we need to settle in Korea, but it won’t take long.” He smiled, but the way that he said business instantly sent chills down your back, and suddenly you were fully aware of his hand that was now resting on your thigh.
Disgusting.
“What kind of business?” You asked as you pushed his hand away.
Jackson didn’t seem to be affected by your rejection and said,
“Don’t worry about it. Nothing that you and your pretty mind need to worry about.”
You brushed off the complicated and turned to Jungkook who you hoped would have given you some sort of answer, but instead all he did was keep your stare without giving anything away.
Realizing that the conversation wasn’t going anyway, you walked towards the bedroom without sparing either of them a second glance. Clearly this ‘business’ that Jackson was talking about had to do with his business, but why would he bring you along for his business trip when he knew just how much you hated what he does. It just doesn’t make sense..... but whatever he was planning, you suddenly felt very uneasy.
As you were quietly packing away, you heard a knock on your door. Turning around, you were surprised to see Jungkook standing there. You suddenly remembered the times when Jackson wasn’t home because of work, and you and Jungkook hung out together at the house watching crappy tv shows and judging the characters while eating takeout food. Out of all of Jackson’s friends, Jungkook had always been your favourite. Whenever Jackson and you had an argument, or whenever Jackson would hit you and leave you in tears, Jungkook was always there to treat your wounds or try to comfort you, sometimes he was even able to stop Jackson from laying his hands on you. There was even a time that you thought that maybe he felt something for you which was why he was protecting you, but on one drunken night when you boldly asked him why he was being so nice, he apologized for leaving you confused and explained that that was never his intentions. He simply did it because he felt that no one should ever hit another person simply because they were angry.
“What’s up?” You asked and gestured him into your room.
The room used to belong to you and Jackson, but after the endless mistresses that you witnessed him bring back home, you requested that he let you have a room to yourself, one that was as far away from his as possible.
Jungkook didn’t say anything besides stand behind you and observe the clothes that you were packing. You opted for a hand carry bag rather than a suitcase because you didn’t think that the trip was going to be a long one.
“You should pack more.” Jungkook finally spoke up.
“Why? How long as we staying anyways?’’ You asked.
When you didn’t hear a reply from Jungkook you turned around and saw that him staring at you, but you couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
“Pack more... we’re not coming back.” He finally responded, but he was so quiet that you almost couldn’t hear what he said.
We’re not coming back?
“Why aren’t we coming back?” You asked.
‘We’re.... we’re moving to Korea. Just pack all your essentials. Don’t ask anymore questions.” He said and turned around before you could ask anymore questions.
Now you were even more confused. Why did Jackson say that you were going on a trip when Jungkook said that you guys are moving to Korea? Why Korea? What is there in Korea?
(Jimin’s POV)
“I told you that there was nothing there. I don’t understand why you go back every single year...” Taehyung said shaking his head disapprovingly.
Although Jimin had initially said that he would only be gone for one day, he decided to wait two extra days just in case you showed up in Busan, the place where your belongings were found. He spent the past three days at a hotel that was located around where you were last seen. Every day, once the sun started to rise, Jimin would start searching for any signs that you’re still here or he would go around holding a picture of you and ask if anyone has seen you. If Taehyung hadn’t personally go to Busan to find Jimin and drag him back home, Jimin was certain that he would have stayed longer.
“Jimin... just face it. It’s time to move on. How much longer are you going to spend waiting for someone who’s never going to return?”
Again, no response.
“Jimin... listen. You can fuck up your health by not eating or sleeping for days. Not my problem. You can fuck up your life all you want too. But you cannot fuck up our business. Stop making me cover for your ass whenever you feel like disappearing!”
The trip had drained Jimin to the point that he didn’t even have the enjoy to raise his voice. All he could let out was a quiet protest,
“Unless you have a girlfriend that goes missing one day without a warning I don’t think you’ll ever understand how I feel.”
“But look at all the effort that you put in. You anonymously give annual donations to the Busan police in hopes of encouraging them to get more people on her case. And guess what? Nothing has happened. Do you understand how much money we had lost because of your sudden disappearance every now and then?You started this business because this was what you wanted to do, and now that Y/N’s gone it’s like as if you’ve lost that the drive that you once had, and you made me in charge of picking up your shit man. Remember the meeting that you made me go to because you wanted to go find Y/N? I prepared the whole fucking presentation that you were supposed to do for Mr. Kim and even presented it, but you never even asked how it went. This is our business. A business that you started it. And you’re acting like you aren’t even concerned about it anymore.”
Again, no response.
“Fine. Don’t answer me. Let me tell you then. I presented that shit to Mr. Kim and he said that he would rather wait for you to tell him everything. So I basically prepared all that shit for no reason. I went through all that pain and hard work for no reason. I’m your fucking business partner and he still didn’t want to listen to what I had to say. He told you to go find him in Busan tomorrow. So there, you have another excuse for you to go find Y/N. But please finish the god damn meeting before you go try and find her. Don’t even think about skipping the meeting because I’m coming with you. Please don’t fuck this up man.”
“Okay.” Jimin mumbled before heading towards his room. He knew that he has been neglectful towards his business and has been heavily relying on Taehyung. He wasn’t losing hope that he would never see you again, but he knew that he needed to start prioritizing his business again. It’s been three years, and for the past three years he’s barely done much for the company.
He suddenly remembered when you used to tell him that your dream house is one that sits by the beach, and he had promised to make that dream come true. If you were to return. No. When you return, he wanted to be able to show you that your dream had indeed come true. But first... he needed to start playing attention to his company like Taehyung said.
Let’s start working again.
(Y/N’s POV)
By the time that you had finished packing all your essentials like Jungkook had said to do, it was almost five in the morning and you felt that you could knock out at any minute. Before you even realized, your eyes closed the moment your body hit the bed.
Around 10 in the morning, you woke up to the sound of pots and pans clashing in the kitchen. Walking out to the kitchen to see who was there, you froze at the sight of Jackson’s grandma, who you assumed was cooking breakfast for the three of you. His grandma had never liked you, although you never understood why. While Jackson’s parents were always nice to you, his grandma on the other hand, since the day you left the hospital and moved in with Jackson had never paid any attention to you. However, it didn’t seem like it was only you who she treated like that, you noticed that she never paid much attention to Jackson either, which made you wonder why she of all people is here today?
“Hello grandma.” You greeted politely.
“Come set the table. Breakfast is ready.” She simply answered without replying to your greeting.
As you helped her place the dishes on the dining table, neither of you exchanged a single word. Once the table was set, the two of you sat in complete silence as you both waited for Jungkook and Jackson to join. Although you took the seat further away from her, you noticed from the corner of your eyes that his grandma was staring at you. Which was strange because normally she would never even spare one glance at you, so all this just wasn’t making any sense to you.
“I heard that you’re leaving to go to Korea today.” She eventually said.
“Y-Yes. We’re leaving this afternoon.”
“Good. You should go. You don’t belong here.” She said so quietly that it was practically a whisper.
You were stunned by what she said. But mostly confused. Where should I go then? Why don’t I belong here? However, there was a slight softness in her voice, almost as if she was warning you of something. But why?
“I... I don’t understand. Why don’t I belong here?” You leaned towards the table to get closer to her.
But before she had the chance to speak, Jungkook greeted the two of you a good morning and took the seat across from you, and then seconds later Jackson showed up and gave his grandma a peck on the cheek before he took the seat next to you. It seemed like he was in a good mood today because he decided to give you a kiss on the forehead in front of everyone.
The rest of the meal went by like a blur since your mind was so focused on the short conversation that you had with Jackson’s grandma. You could recall Jackson and Jungkook talking about what they were going to do once when the three of you arrived to Korea, but you paid no attention to the detail.
After the meal ended, you helped Jackson’s grandma clean up the dishes while Jungkook and Jackson went somewhere to talk about what you assumed had to do with the ‘business’ that they needed to tend to in Korea. Although you glanced over at his grandma multiple times, wondering if she would elaborate on what she had previously said, she never spared you a second glance.
(Jungkook’s POV)
“You know what the plan is right?” Jackson asked the moment the two entered Jackson’s room.
“Yes.” Jungkook nodded.
The plan was simple. Very simple actually so he didn’t understand why Jackson felt the need to keep repeating the plan, perhaps it was because he was nervous. Although Jackson has never formally said it before, Jungkook knew that Jackson had to be scared of Jimin or else he wouldn’t have ran all the way to Hong Kong the moment he kidnapped you.
Jungkook still remembered the day that Jackson has kidnapped you called him for help. At the time he was on his way to meet Jimin and Taehyung, who had just recently asked Jungkook to join their team. Jungkook originally knew Taehyung from high school, and it was through Taehyung that he got to meet Jimin. He had liked Jimin since the very beginning, Jimin was very different from the other people in the industry that Jungkook had been in contact with. Jungkook really admired how professional Jimin was when it came to his profession, and really admired how Jimin spent the time to get to know those who he worked with and took great care of everyone.
The first day that Jungkook met Jimin, you were there and sat quietly next to Jimin as the three men were talking about their next business proposal. You didn’t speak much but the look on your face told him that you didn’t really like the kind of job that Jimin was in. However, when he saw how you looked at Jimin with so much love in your eyes, and how Jimin always looked at you as if you were all that mattered, he knew just how madly in love the two of you were with each other. Jungkook wasn’t going to lie and say that he didn’t find you attractive, because of course you were attractive, but he knew just by his first encounter with you and Jimin that no one could ever love you the way Jimin did, nor would you ever be able to look at anyone the same way that you did for Jimin. To this day, Jungkook had yet to witness you stare at Jackson the same way that you used to look at Jimin.
Jungkook still remembered the day that you drunkenly asked him if he had any feelings for you. Admittedly, he has been trying to take extra good care of you as often as he can without making Jackson suspicious, but his intentions were never to give you the wrong message. For the time being, all he wanted to do was protect you from any kind of danger in replacement of Jimin for as long as he can until he can get you back to Korea.
Ever since the day that Jackson had called him for help, Jungkook had made it his goal to get you back to Korea as soon as possible, however that turned out to be a much harder task than he could have ever imagined. If it wasn’t because Jackson had helped Jungkook’s family get out of debt and got his family back on their feet, he would have never helped Jackson. Of course he knew what Jackson was doing is completely ridiculous and illegal and as much as he didn’t want to participate in Jackson’s plan, Jungkook knew that the real victim in this situation is you. You were not only taken away from your own family land but you were also brought to a land where you couldn’t quite fit yourself into. But the worst part was that whatever Jackson had done, you somehow had completely forgotten your name and who you used to be. The fact that Jackson had decided to name you ‘Alice,’ the exact same name of his ex-girlfriend just made Jungkook sick to his stomach whenever he heard the name.
Jungkook had completely lost contact with Jimin and Taehyung the day that he picked up Jackson’s phone call. Although the two at the beginning had repeatedly called him, mostly due to his sudden disappearance causing an effect on their business, eventually the phone calls had stopped.
For the past three years, Jungkook constantly suggested to Jackson that they should return to Korea because the industry has getter potential for growth there, but Jackson had always refused, perhaps because his business was just starting. But to his surprise, this time around it was Jackson who suggested the trip to Korea, and what was even more surprising was that Jackson wanted to bring you to Korea.
Apparently, Jackson had heard that Jimin and Taehyung were trying to get one of the more notorious suppliers in the industry, Mr. Kim, to supply to their company, and the meeting was going to take place tomorrow. Jackson knew how much of a benefit it would be to have Mr. Kim on their side, so he wanted to use you as a bait to distract Jimin so that their meeting would fail and then Jackson would be able to use that chance to persuade Mr. Kim to join his side. Jungkook’s job was simple, all he needed to do was make sure that you wouldn’t run away. Of course keeping you hostage was the last thing that he wanted to do. His plan was to wait until Jackson left the two of you alone, then he would tell you to go meet him somewhere and call Jimin to meet you there instead.
Just hang in a little longer Y/N. We’re almost there.
(Y/N’s POV)
Eventually it was time to leave to the airport and if you were being honest excitement had completely taken over all of your emotions to the point that you completely forgot about everything that you were worrying about before.
Once the three of you stepped foot into the airport, everything seemed to move in segments. One moment you were checking in, the next moment you were boarding the plane, and before you knew it the plane landed in Seoul, and then the three of you were taking the train to Busan.
You were slightly disappointed to find out that you weren’t visiting Seoul, but the moment that you saw the scenery, especially the beaches in Busan, you were instantly drawn to it. Although it was your first time in Korea, for a strange reason, you felt familiar with the land, almost as if you were coming home.
You were happy to find out that Jackson had booked a hotel that was near the beach so you were able to see the view from the window. The unfortunate news was that you had to share a room with Jackson, something that you haven’t done for at least a year.
“Jungkook and I need to go out and meet a client, but we will be back soon. If you get hungry, go order some room service. We’ll be back soon so don’t think of running away babe... because I will always find you.” He winked.
Disgusting.
Recently this has become your reaction whenever Jackson acted even slightly interested or flirted with you. At this point you were wondering how this relationship could even go on, if the two of you clearly had no feelings for one another, why wouldn’t he just let you go? As tempted as you were to run away, , you knew... you could never run away from Jackson, somehow he was always able to find you.
Once Jackson left the room, you took the seat closest to the window and gazed outside admiring the view hoping that by watching the waves wash along the shore that the waves would also be able to wash away the hopelessness that you felt from within.
“Alice.” Jungkook spoke up.
“Oh. I didn’t realize that you were still here.” You turned and saw that Jungkook was handing you a cellphone that looked like much older in generation than any phone that people nowadays use.
“What’s this for?” You asked after taking the phone from him.
“You wanted to visit the beach didn’t you? Now is your chance to leave the room.”
You stared at him speechless, staring at him as if he was crazy. He should know better than anyone that Jackson would beat him to pulp if he found out that Jungkook had let you go somewhere by yourself without him knowing, especially if that meant there would be a possibility of you running away.
“You’re kidding.”
“No. Go. Go visit the beach. We’ll be gone for a while so just enjoy yourself while you still can. Use this phone to contact me if you need anything. There’s only one phone number saved on that burner phone and it belongs to me. Don’t go anywhere besides the beach. Okay?”
You wondered for a second if a burner phone was actually necessary. Why couldn’t you just get a new SIM card and use your own cell phone to contact him. But if using a burner phone was all it took to allow you to leave the room, you were more than grateful. The beach looked so beautiful and inviting that you weren’t even going to ask him why you couldn’t go anywhere else, not that there was anywhere else that you wanted to go to.
“Okay.” You answered, now fluttering on the inside with excitement.
You couldn’t even remember the last time that you were able to leave and go somewhere without Jackson knowing, or having someone that he knew follow you around.
“I meant it Y/N. Don’t leave the beach.” He warned again.
Y/N? Who’s Y/N?
There was that name again. You remember the times when either Jackson and Jungkook got drunk and would call you by that name. You never understood why and had tried to ask them again when they were sober, but they would always only say that they didn’t remember or just straight up deny that it ever happened. But this time it was different, Jungkook was clearly sober, so why did he call you by that name?
“I’m Alice. Not Y/N. Dumbass.” You frowned.
“Right. Whatever you say.” He mumbled before turning away and walking out the door, immediately ending the conversation there.
You made sure to wait at least a good ten minutes before you left the room just in case Jackson decided to come back. Once the ten minutes had ended, you practically sprinted out of the room and opted on taking the stairs so that you wouldn’t have to wait for the elevator. As soon as you saw the view of the beach from the lobby you ran towards it without a care in the world of whether or not people would be judging you.
Ah. This is what freedom feels like.
(Jimin’s POV)
“What do you mean the meeting today with Mr. Kim is cancelled?” Taehyung basically shouted the moment that Jimin told him the news.
The two had arrived to Busan first thing in the morning and, due to Jimin’s request, they had checked in to a hotel near the beach.
She would have loved it here.
“His secretary said that he had a personal matter to deal with, so he had to cancel our meeting. Instead, he told us to wait until tomorrow morning for us to talk then.” Jimin shrugged never taking his eyes off the beach, watching as the water washed up towards the shore.
While Taehyung was complaining in the background, Jimin suddenly felt his phone vibrate and saw a text message from someone that he hasn’t heard from in a very long time. Jungkook?
[From Jungkook] Jimin. I know I owe you a very long explanation, but this is a very time sensitive matter. Y/N is Busan right now, and she’s going to be at the beach near your hotel all by herself. If you ever want to see her again, go now before it’s too late. This is her phone number (###)###-####. She’ll think it’s me, but contact her anyways and ask her exactly where she is so you can find her. I’ll contact you later and explain everything, but please. Please hurry!
Y/N? She’s here? In Busan??
“HOLY FUCK.” Jimin quickly jumped up from his seat.
She’s here? She’s alive! She’s back! I have to go. I have to go find her!
Jimin ran out of the room without sparing Taehyung a single word. He ran as quickly as he could without stopping even for a single second because he was scared that if he didn’t get to you quickly enough he would lose you again.
As soon as he arrived to the beach, he scanned the beach, but out of all the people that he could see, you weren’t there. No one out there looked like you.
He wanted to call you with the number that Jungkook had given him, but he didn’t realize that when he got up from the chair his phone had fallen, and now there was no way for him to reach you unless he went back to the room to retrieve it. He couldn’t risk the possibility of missing you again if something happened to you when he ran back to the room, so instead he ran towards the other side of the beach shouting out for you name, hoping that you would hear his outcry and find him.
Please Y/N. Please be here.
(Y/N’s POV)
You purposely situated yourself far away from the other people on the beach in case they would see you and tell Jackson if he came looking for you.
The sand felt so soft and warm underneath your feet as you curled your feet into the ground while enjoying the sun shine onto your skin. Freedom never felt so good. You wondered for a second what would happen if you simply ran away right this instant. Would Jackson be able to find me? Where could I even go...?
“Y/N! Y/N! Where are you!” You heard someone’s voice approaching from afar.
There was that name again, the exact same name that Jungkook had called you just minutes ago. However, you didn’t give much thought to it since you assumed someone was just looking for their friend who had that exact same name.
But then the voice got louder... and louder until,
“Y/N!” You heard someone shout before you could even turn to the voice, you were yanked up from where you were seated.
You were now facing a man, who looked around your age. His grip was painfully tight as if he didn’t want to let you go, but it wasn’t his grip that bothered you, rather it was his sadden and tearful eyes that were staring straight into yours that left you frozen in place. It felt weird. Although you didn’t know who he was, his face looked familiar, but yet you weren’t able to name who he was.
Who are you?
Before you knew it, he pulled you into a tight hug and whispered into your ear,
“I found you. I finally found you.”
#bts scenarios#bts fanfic#bts imagines#got7 fanfic#bts angst#bts fluff#got7 angst#got7 fluff#got7 scenarios#bts#bts imagine#got7 imagine#park jimin#jackson wang#kpop fanfic#kpop senarios#jimin#bangtan imagines
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Sugar and Coffee [22.5]
Back to Chapter 22
Words: 2729 || The Ultimate Mini-Chapter of the series
“You’re working in a grocery store now?” Taehyung asks with raised brows, surprise taking hold. He never imagined his friend being a produce boy, yet it seems fitting somehow. “Isn’t working in the bakery section more suitable?” Jimin shrugs. “I didn’t get to pick, but the job is pretty relaxed, so I’m not that worried. My manager is really nice and I’ll probably quit when I find a real position after graduating.” “Nice, dude.” They fist pump. “Now you can buy me my deli meats all the time.” “You’ll have to reimburse me, Tae.” The boy with his full cheeks has his eyes crinkled. The two boys have known each other since their elementary days — where Taehyung kept stealing Jimin’s books and pencils until one day the timid latter had enough and tackled the former on the playground. They stuck together after that, finding that their personalities balanced. It would only be later until they met Yoongi in math class, Hoseok in Jimin’s extracurricular, and Jungkook during an outside volunteering event in High School. It was how the four of them came to be, how they naturally formed a friendship over the course of time and still remain close after so many years. So Taehyung has no hesitation when his phone starts blowing up with notifications and immediately verbalizes his woes— “Oh shit.” “What?” Jimin abandons the game he’s playing. He’s never been good at them like the rest were. “Yuna found me on instagram,” Taehyung grimaces. “She just added me and liked all my pics since three years ago.” Jimin bursts out laughing much to his best friend’s dismay. “She’s the girl Y/N and Jungkook was showing around, right?” “Yeah, that sixteen year old.” The shorter man’s brows furrow. “Isn’t she eighteen?” “Same thing.” Taehyung sighs despite the fact that he’s only twenty himself and Jimin muses that he often acts twelve. But he doesn’t utter his thoughts and Taehyung tosses his device onto the couch. “She kind of scares me.” “Why?” Jimin gives a toothy grin. “She’s tiny.” “Haven’t you heard what Yoongi said? The shorter ones are always the ones closer to hell.” It’s a fair point. “The smallest peppers are always the spiciest, am I right?” “Fuck off, it’s about girth not length.” He ignores how Taehyung’s brows wiggle. “Didn’t she ask you out before she left?” “Yep.” “What did you even do? She wasn’t like that to me or Hoseok.” “Exactly. I have no clue.” Taehyung would make a joke about he’s just naturally irresistible but this is no time to joke around. Yuna is undeniably intimidating and a serious threat to his existence. “I heard from Y/N that she’s thinking of coming here, so thank god we’re all graduating in a few months.” “Yeah, well you might need another semester with the grades you have.” “Bro.” Taehyung sits up straight. “You want to fight?” He shrugs. “I’m just saying you can’t get away with a thirty percent in nutrition.” “Fuck. Don’t remind me. I need to catch up on my readings.” “Same here.” Yet no one moves. They don’t even flinch. The two should crack open their textbooks and start reading — but Taehyung’s arm only stretches to grab a controller and join the game Jimin’s in. The night continues on as the two relish in their youth and ability to be irresponsible without repercussions. Or at least too many repercussions.
The air of the small coffee shop is tense. It is as if the four walls are closing in, but still, she’s glad that it’s a public setting. She can’t bear if it was just her and him. At least in public, there are voices to fill in the background silence and the threat of public embarrassment keeps her from crying, from having an outburst. It’s difficult to face someone she used to care so much about. To this day, she still doesn’t know what she felt can be called love. But the fact that she has to contemplate it, she’s inclined to think that it’s not. But that doesn’t mean their short and sweet relationship was any less meaningful. He was her best friend for so long after all. Aeri swallows hard, sipping her drink. She tries not to get the paper cup to shake so much in her clammy hands and ends up putting it back on the table when she realizes she can’t taste it well. After another beat, she lifts her eyes to look at his and realizes that he’s been staring at her. Aeri breaks the silence. “Why’d you call me here, Hoseok?” “I thought it would be nice to talk.” “About what?” “Us.” Closure. He came here for closure, but she’s not sure what kind of closure he wants or how he wants to shut this bittersweet chapter of their lives. “What about u-us?” She hates that her voice breaks, but oddly enough, it isn’t as painful as it was a few weeks ago. A few weeks ago, she would’ve never been able to face him like this, wouldn’t be able to even look at him without crying. It seems like as time goes by, it becomes easier. “I’m sorry.” He says in a weakened tone that hurts her as well. “Don’t apologize, Hoseok.” “No, but I want to. I’ve been thinking about it a lot — and what we had….it was good.” “It was.” Aeri smiles. “Wasn’t it?” He nods, eased at her openness, that she’s not defensive or angry like he thought she would be. Like she has the right to be. “I don’t think I tried hard enough to make it work.” “I didn’t either, so don’t blame yourself alone,” Aeri says, a tiny smile tugs on her lips. She accepts his apology. “I had my part to play in it too.” “I didn’t want to hurt you.” “I didn’t either. But it’s okay, Hoseok. We just weren’t right for each other.” He nods. It goes silent. He musters a tender smile. “Truce?” “Truce.” The girl giggles when they shake hands across the small table. “You still owe me ten dollars when I lent you gas money.” “Oh, you’re really going to bring that up now?” “Of course,” Aeri laughs. “Fair is fair.” It’s hard to be acquainted with someone who used to be so much closer. Someone who has so many memories — good ones and hurtful ones. And often times the end can never be the same as the beginning. For the rest of their lives, Aeri knows that she’ll always keep Hoseok at a distance, at an arm’s reach, for the sake of her own heart and self-preservation. But she considered herself one of the lucky ones — that they have a mutual understanding, that they can still see each other, and can still have some semblance of a platonic friendship. She’s lucky when she knows that the two of them will never revert to being complete strangers.
Min Yoongi is a man of many things. He is quiet, but deadly. He is grumpy and lethargic, but will go out of his way to make someone’s life miserable and has the biggest smile when he sees suffering. He had the most joy when Taehyung stubbed his toe against the doorframe, when Jimin was last place during Smash. Most of all, he’s an enigma. Lazy, yet the hardest working. Mean and snarky, yet always willing to lend an ear and shoulder. Indifferent and aloof, yet the one who never fails to react first in a crisis. But of all things...you never expected him to be clingy. “So this is what you do all day?” Yoongi gestures to the clutter on the kitchen counter, the wires and gum paste rolled out, styrofoam and toothpicks, small brushes and petal dust shades. “You practice making flowers and then go home to suck Jungkook’s dick?” “Excuse me.” You scoff. “I practice making cakes too.” “You’re fun.” “If you don’t like it, then leave me alone,” you mutter out of the corner of your mouth, concentrating back on the rose you’re working on. “Why are you hanging out with me anyway?” “Because it’s you or Taehyung right now and I’d rather spend time with you than Taehyung.” “What’s wrong with Taehyung?” “He’s Taehyung.” A light scoff falls out of your mouth. You know the motherfucker has a soft spot for him, but he can say whatever he wants. He’ll deny it even if you confronted him. “Want to make flowers?” you offer. “Nope.” Min Yoongi would rather fiddle with kitchen materials and spin around on the stool than brush up on sugar flowers, piping flowers or fondant flowers. But you don’t have the time or energy to argue. You do, however, show off once you’re finished. “What do you think?” He hums as he looks at your finished product. “Not half bad, I guess. I’ve seen worse.” It’s not the greatest compliment in the world but you’ll take it especially since it’s coming from him. You’ve noticed in the time you’ve known Yoongi that he has a difficult time praising others. He always tries to work around it, skirting through the subject, never verbalizing his feelings despite being such a straightforward person. It never fails to be entertaining to watch. You grin. “If my relationship with Jungkook ever goes to shit, we’d still be friends, wouldn’t we, Yoongi?” “Sure,” he mumbles while resting his elbow on the counter, cheek in his palm lazily. “But your relationship with Kook won’t ever go to shit. Kid’s too whipped for you.” Your smile only widens. “He is, isn’t he?” “You are too,” he says when you attempt to exclude yourself. “It’s gross to watch, but whatever.” “You need someone in your life too, Min. Maybe you’d be less bitter all the time.” It’s not that he’s bitter, but you like to tease that he is since you know it grinds his gears. “I have a cousin of a cousin who’s around our age. Want to meet her?” His expression wrinkles like he just bit into a lemon. Yoongi sits upright. “First of all, fuck you. I’m not bitter — I’m just me, bitch. Secondly, I don’t want to meet anyone, much less your cousin. And last of all, you’re becoming worse than Taehyung.” “Maybe this is an invitation for you to leave then.” You grin cheekily at Yoongi and it doesn’t amuse him. It’s unfortunate he doesn’t have a soft spot for you like Jungkook does. “And don’t call me a bitch. Only Jungkook’s allowed to do that in bed.” “I didn’t need to know that.” Yoongi’s face crumples more and he waves at you. “Just stop talking and continue what you’re doing.” Min Yoongi is an enigma and someone you relate to the most. Often times you feel him on a spiritual level. And in spite of what he might think internally, he’s a great friend. He’s logical, reasonable, the clarity that the whole group usually needs before they think doing dumb shit, like jumping off the roof of the dining center into a pile of snow beneath, is a good idea. He’s hilarious in a sarcastic, snarky way and cares the most when no one’s looking. He reminds you of an older brother who will always watch your back — and he makes you glad that both you and Jungkook have him in your life.
Jungkook had a dream. It was odd — only because it felt so real and how it still sticks into his mind hours later. Usually dreams fade away like memories of childhoods where he can’t distinguish people, actions, his own thoughts but generally what had occurred and the feeling he had obtained. But Jungkook remembers this dream well. It was a dream where he wobbled to the kitchen in this small house with wooden floorboards and hideous wallpaper, his home, and found you by the window above the sink. Only, you were old with gray hair and wrinkles around your face, an apron tied around your body that was shorter and more sluggish. And his own hands were wrinkled like crumpled paper, round glasses perched on his nose, his movements slowed down as he staggered. You had turned around and complained about the damn neighbour kids ruining your garden with their littering and he had to calm you down for fear of you getting a heart attack. It was so entirely mundane, and he had never been more confused when he awoke. “Jungkook!” His mother shouts over the phone. “Are you still here?” Her voice sounds farther away. “Honey, the phone’s broken again! I can’t hear him!” The boy snaps back to attention. “No, I’m here! Mom? Hello?” But neither of his parents hear him. Instead, there’s rustling and the sound of his father’s voice. “Give me that. Hello?” “Hello?” Jungkook sighs. “Hello?! Goddammit, I just fixed this old thing yesterday!” “No, I’m right here!” He has to strain his voice, shouting loud enough that could warrant complaints from the people next door. “I can hear you!” “Honey, is that you?” His mom calls out again and there’s more rustling. “Where’s the speakerphone? Oh, here. Hello?” For the tenth time, Jungkook exclaims— “Hello!” “Finally. I thought the phone was broken again.” Both his parents start discussing the phone issues and Jungkook nurses his headache before the conversation gets back on track again. “Have you been eating well?” “I’ve been fine, mom.” “Good! Your grandma’s visiting and she’s been so worried about you. It’s not good to do all that exercise and not eat well! You’ll burn all your fat and just be skin and bones!” There’s the sound of his grandma’s voice at the back that he can’t distinguish well enough to make out what she’s saying. “Anyhow, your aunt and uncle send their regards. We’ll be visiting their home this time for the Holiday season come December. Also Lia and Eunbi wanted to ask if Y/N will be coming home with you.” “Uh.” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck. “I’m not sure yet.” “Oh, well, do bring her, dear.” His dad suddenly says, “Heaven knows, your mom and grandma can’t stop talking about how great she is. If she comes by, I’ll fire up the grill and we can have a barbecue too!” “Yeah, we’ll see,” he exhales sharply. Jungkook still hasn’t announced to his family that he’s dating you yet. If you agree to come back with him for Christmas, he’ll probably make it known to them but he can’t even fathom the many more times they’ll call if they knew. God, they would probably call you directly and he would rather spare you from their smothering love. Suddenly a thought creeps into Jungkook’s mind. “Hey, mom. Can I talk to grandma for a second?” “Sure! Mom! He’s here.” He can hear the phone getting passed, more buttons accidentally being pressed, and his grandma’s voice sounds closer as if she accidentally turned off the speakerphone. “Hello? Kookie, is that you?” They exchange the usual back and forth, asking about each other’s well-being and wishing one another good health. His grandma also tells him to bring you around some time when he comes home and how lovely you are — but he doesn’t need to hear it. Jungkook’s already long learnt that. “Hey, grandma.” He finally approaches the question he’s been meaning to ask. Slow and hesitant, but he manages. “What was it like to grow old with grandpa?” He can practically hear the soft smile on her face. “Oh, it was wonderful.” There’s a pause as if the aged woman is looking for a word to exactly describe her experience. Though she finally seems to be able to find it. “It was a privilege.” A privilege. That’s the perfect word. It encapsulates his dream entirely. It was sad to be aged, to see you tired, to feel weighed down himself and slower than what he’s used to. But when he looked at you, he didn’t just see an old woman — he saw the snarky girl he knew of in high school, the attractive girl he daydreamed about for so long, the one he’s with now. And the one who will join him for so many more memories. Even if it was just a dream, Jungkook’s excited to make it a reality.
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Trauma
Summary: After a sudden revelation you and JJ look at each other in a different light.
Request: Hi! Can you do a request where jj and y/n ‘hate’ eachother, constantly fight and bicker. So John B and the gang truck them into getting stuck on Hayward’s boat and leave them for the night. When jj gets high he notices she gets anxious. He persuades her to reveal a sensitive side that she doesn’t like being around drugs because of her abusive dad. Jj doesn’t tell her he can relate just that he understands. He tells her that she’s beautiful and she deserves better, in his own jj way;)💗I love u @maybebanks
Trigger Warnings: Mention and depiction of overdoses, drug use, death and abuse!!
Word Count: 2.3k
When John B and the rest of the gang drove away from Heywards boat leaving you and the boy you despised the most, JJ Maybank alone you weren’t that mad. They weren’t going to leave you guys there over night. Surely they were going to come back and get you guys from the middle of the marsh so you two wouldn’t kill each other. Or so you thought.
A few hours went by, your friends have yet to return and the sun just finished setting. This is when the situation at hand finally hit you. You were stuck out in the middle of the marsh with JJ and no one else. Yea you could’ve continued what you were doing all evening which was ignore the blue eyed boy and do your own thing.
However, as the stars and moon shone down on you both and the smell of weed filled your nostrils you couldn’t help, but feel anxious. Your heart was hammering in your chest and your breathing started to become labored. You despised the smell of weed and feeling abandoned was the cherry on top. Knowing the signs of a panic attack you decide to sit down against the edge on the other side of the boat than JJ. As you do this the blond looks over at you and watches you wrap a blanket around your body before resting your head on your knees.
Despite your distaste for the Maybank boy his feelings towards you weren’t reciprocated. Yes he wasn’t fond of you especially after the first time he met you, he made a joke about you not smoking or drinking when Kie invited you to hang out, but he didn’t know why you weren’t interested in that stuff. He simply thought and still believes that you can’t take a joke. JJ hated people that couldn’t take a joke considering most of those people were Kooks. And after all you used to be a Kook when your mom was alive. As if your old social status actually mattered to anyone else though.
Finally speaking up after basically a whole evening of silence JJ opens his mouth. “You know they obviously left us here to become friends so you should make an attempt at least.”
You roll your eyes looking down at the floor between your open legs, your head still resting on your knees. He was right you should make an attempt to befriend him, but right now wasn’t a good time to try or for JJ to make a snarky remark about it.
Ignoring him, you try your best to focus on your breathing to prevent a panic attack. You hated having panic attacks in the first place, but there was no way you were going to let JJ see that side of you. You had to stay strong like you always were.
Rolling his blue eyes JJ stands up and sits back down beside you. Since you were so focused on your breathing you didn’t realize he was now by your side.
“Ignoring me isn’t helping Y/N.” He says, annoyance dripping from his voice.
JJ’s remark and the smell of weed being closer to you now was your last straw. You couldn’t hold in the panic attack anymore. Suddenly a gasp for air leaves your mouth as tears begin to fall down your face.
Confused, JJ looks over at you and notices your body shaking. Even though you weren’t his most favourite person in the world you were still apart of his friend group and the blonde would do anything for them.
“What’s wrong Y/N?” He asks genuinely concerned, placing the roach of his joint down beside him.
He places a hand on your back as you begin to sob into your hands and knees, but you move away, not wanting him to touch you. He retracts his hand, but grows even more confused and concerned. During the span of knowing you JJ has never seen you cry so he was genuinely confused as to why you were. What triggered it?
As the sound of your sobs filled JJ’s ears he felt inclined to make you feel better despite your distaste for each other.
“Talk to me Y/N.” He simply says.
You finally look over at the boy beside you, your eyes red and cheeks stained with tears. Seeing you like this flipped a switch in JJ that he wasn’t even aware of. All of a sudden he wanted to take care of you or just simply hold you. You looked so broken and JJ understood the feeling.
Without saying anything JJ scoots over to you and wraps his arms around you. Surprisingly you don’t pull away from his grasp. Instead you simply move closer into to his chest, desperately craving any type of loving touch. The blonde boy rubs his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion which you appreciate.
A few minutes go by, both you and JJ allow you to ride out your panic attack, but he made sure to show that he was there for you by holding onto you.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly, looking down at you in his arms.
“Not right now.” You stutter out, still reeling from the physical and mental attack you just went through.
“Well do you want to light up? It should make you feel better.” The blonde suggests even though he knows you don’t like participating in that type of stuff.
You simply shake your head no and close your eyes while resting against his chest. “Suit yourself, but I’m going to.” He says digging through his cargo shorts pocket with his free hand for another joint.
JJ notices you sharply inhale as he does this which makes him hesitate for a second, before deciding to leave it in his pocket. “Why don’t you smoke or drink?”
The Maybank boy would always make fun of you for not participating in the same activities as the rest of the Pogues, but he just realized he doesn’t know why you don’t do that stuff.
A minute or two go by and JJ was about to ask you again, thinking you didn’t hear him, but in reality you were just trying to figure out what to say. You sigh, but not realizing you start to play with JJ’s fingers to calm yourself down.
“Do you know how my mom died?” You simply ask.
“No.” He says allowing you to continue to play with his fingers.
You were quite surprised by his answer in all honesty. Basically everyone on the island knows what happened to your family and their downward spiral to misfortune.
“She died from an opioid overdose.”
JJ’s dilated eyes widen at your answer, not expecting that to be the cause of your moms death. “Shit sorry Y/N I didn’t know.”
You simply shrug your shoulders. “It’s not a requirement for you to know that.” You say in a monotone voice as you start to think about your deceased mother.
A silence falls over the two, but for the first time ever it wasn’t awkward. JJ realized he knew hardly anything about you and he was genuinely curious to find out more, but he didn’t want to push you. So he simply started to graze his fingers up and down your wrist, moving your bracelets up an down as he does so.
Although it was dark out and the only light was coming from the moon and a small light outside of the cabin JJ noticed something on your skin. Along your wrist and up your forearm were round scars that looked like they resembled cigarette burns.
He looks down at the round marks on your arm then gazes at his legs that had similar marks along them. Someone was using you as their personal ash tray like how JJ’s father used to do.
“What are these from?” He asks, tracing his finger around one scar.
Once you realize what JJ is talking about you start to readjust yourself in his arms, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable. “It’s nothing.”
JJ bites his lip, deciding whether he should continue talking or not and he eventually decides to continue. “You don’t have to talk about it, but I have them too.” He says moving away from you to show you the scattered scars along his legs before turning slightly and lifting up his shirt to show the healed marks on his back. At a loss for words you simply ogle at the boy beside you in shock. Even though he didn’t straight up say what happens when he goes home he showed you that he understands which oddly made you feel not so alone. Who knew you guys had something so terrible in common?
He lets his shirt fall back down and wraps his arm around your shoulders once again. You suck in a breath of fresh air as thoughts swarmed your mind. You didn’t know why, but in that moment JJ made you feel so comfortable around him that you felt inclined to tell him the deep dark truth about why you don’t do certain things.
“When people ask why I don’t drink or smoke I say it’s because of my mom.” You say grabbing a hold of JJ’s fingers once again. “Her death is a big reason as to why, but once she died my whole life went downhill. My dad didn’t cope with her death well and I can’t get mad at him for that, but he started to abuse drugs like she did.” JJ glances over at you resting on his shoulder as he listened intently to you speaking.
“My dad started to spend money on anything and everything. Then one day he went to a meeting for an important business deal, high out of his mind on coke and of course he got fired. After that we lost the house, the boat, and his car. We lost everything. And you would think that would’ve been a wake up call for him.” You say removing your head from the blondes shoulder and meeting JJ’s gaze.
JJ simply nods his head in understanding, but you take that as a hint to go on. “He only got more angry and agitated since then. He started to take his anger out on me and my brother, but mostly me because I look more like my mom.” You say glancing at the moon then back to JJ’s blue orbs.
He couldn’t believe how similar your guys’ home life was. For starters JJ’s dad started abusing alcohol and drugs once his mom passed away as well. She died of cancer and JJ’s dad felt like it was his fault since he couldn’t afford chemotherapy. JJ’s fathers built up guilt and anger against the world for taking his wife away from him ultimately festered into him beating JJ every chance he got. It also didn’t help that JJ was a constant reminder of her just by his looks.
You suck in another deep breath just before you tell JJ, the guy you despised just hours ago the most personal and sensitive thing about yourself. “It was yelling matches at first then one day he just started physically attacking me. First he slapped me a few times or pulled my hair or even pushed me down the stairs. Occasionally he would put out his cigarettes on me. Then he eventually pinned me up against a wall and held a broken beer bottle against my throat.” You say, the look on your face expressionless and your eyes dull because you were used to it. When you shouldn’t be. No one should.
As you reveal this to JJ he feels his heart clench and wince at your sentences. He understands the pain that you have and are going through more than you know. But as you tell him this he starts to connect the dots. Suddenly waking up at John B’s in the morning to see you sleeping out in the hammock or on the living room floor made sense. Or seeing you wear heavy amounts of make up on parts of your face when you hardly ever wore make up, or how you spent more time at Kiara’s and John B’s than he himself did.
You open your mouth to tell him some other things such as how you haven’t been home since that day he pinned you against the wall or how your brother is fine and misses you, but he stops you. Although he wanted you to be comfortable enough with him to tell him those things it was starting to get too much for him. JJ’s own dark memories and demons were starting to cloud his mind and he didn’t want that. He wanted to be there for you the way John B and Pope are there for him.
“Y/N, I’m really sorry you have gone through that. No one deserves to go through that.” He says turning towards you while moving a stray hair out of your face. You shrug your shoulders and give him a sad smile. After all of these years your father has made you believe that you deserve everything he does to you.
Another moment of silence falls upon you two, but JJ breaks it to speak his mind, he could tell you didn’t believe what he previously said. “You know you’re beautiful right? And although we started on the wrong foot I’m willing to be arrested again if your dad lays even a finger on you.” The blue eyed boy says, revealing his protective side which was very on brand JJ. You chuckle and nudge the boy away from you lightly. Even though you were originally anxious and upset that your friends left you two out in the middle of the marsh you are actually quite grateful they did.
“You can have the pull out couch at John B’s for now on.” JJ says scooting back over to you.
You appreciate JJ’s offer, but you can’t help, but turn it down. “No because you wouldn’t have a place to sleep then.”
“Then we’ll have to figure something out together.” JJ suggests wrapping his arm back around you.
And what JJ said was true. From that moment on you two made an effort to be there for each other while navigating each others trauma.
-
I have linked some websites and resources for people going through similar situations as JJ and reader in this fic. Please do not hesitate to reach out to me if need be I will try to help you to the best of my ability!
P.S: You all are strong, beautiful and loved. Don’t forget that.
https://togetherweare-strong.tumblr.com/helpline
http://www.vachss.com/help_text/hotlines_intl.html
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_domestic_violence_hotlines
https://pathwaystosafety.org/
#jj#JJ Imagine#jj maybank#jj moodboard#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank smut#jj maybank angst#jj maybank fluff#rudy pankow#rudy pankow imagine#outerbanks#jj x you#john b routledge#jj outer banks#outerbanks imagine#obx#jj obx#jj obx imagine#jj maybank obx#netflix#sarah cameron#kiara carrera#pope heyward
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I saw speculation on this going around & I’m curious to get your thoughts on it: where do you think Geten’s story might be going in the future, & do u think it’s possible Dabi will kill him? I saw ppl talking about Dabi’s noted distaste for him & how the PLF seems more of a temporary alliance in the LoV’s mind (Compress’ noted rejection of the name in his thoughts, Dabi’s use of Skeptic against his will, etc), & w/ AFO back in the picture they theorized Dabi may get his quirk & kill Geten.
Okay, so, it took me a while to grapple with this one, and in the end, I'm going to have to break my reply up into two parts. Because you asked a very simple question, anon, and my answer to the question you actually asked is pretty simple (if characteristically rambly)! But you also provided a bunch of contextualizing information about what prompted your ask, and I have a lot to say about that contextualizing information, stuff that is only tangentially related to your actual question.
Note that some of this is going to get pretty salty, but I assume you wouldn't have brought a Known MLA Stan a question like this if you didn't want at least a bit of that. Most of the salt will be in the second part, though! This first part is pretty safe!
So, to answer the actual question: I don't have a lot of solid thoughts on where Geten's story is going, because from the looks of the way the series as a whole is going, it may well be that the MLA’s story is already done. I have previously expressed concerns about the current status of the MLA mainly because of all the speculation that Horikoshi is trying to rush to get to the ending, and if Hori’s rushing the ending, I don’t know that I’d bet on Geten coming back at all. In fact, given what I can guess about the scenario, I’d kind of rather he not.
The thing is, the MLA have always been far more relevant to the League than they have been to anyone else in the cast. They’re Tomura's victory spoils; their plot beats were established to connect to the League, not the heroes, the students, or even All For One. There’s just no personal connection there, and lacking a personal connection, all they’d do is be fodder for background fights to fill page space and give the side characters something to do.
And there’s just no drama in that! Not even any tension! We've already seen the MLA characters beaten--first by the villains, and then by the heroes. Hell, we've seen Re-Destro beaten three times!(1) Based on how the raid went, there are maybe three people in the entire MLA that present a credible threat--Hose Face, whose name we don’t even know, Re-Destro, who has a repeatedly-illustrated weak point in the form of his new legs, and Geten.
While I definitely think Geten could give any of the students save Deku a run for their money,(2) what would be the point? Who would he be slotted in to have a dramatic fight with? Geten hurt Cementoss, but he didn't kill him, and none of the students are uniquely close to Cementoss anyway. Geten has never personally offended or harmed any of the kids directly. There was a time people theorized that Shouto's end game boss would be a combination of Geten and Dabi, but with the PLF scattered, that looks less likely.
From the other side of things, Geten himself has no particular beef with the kids. If he'd been on the front lines to witness the opening moments of the battle, maybe he'd have a bone to pick with Kaminari, Kinoko, Juzo, and particularly Tokoyami, but it took Geten a bit to get to the front; he has no particular way of knowing about those four, and at the moment, he certainly has more pressing matters on his mind.
Geten's primary interest, when it comes right down to it, is Re-Destro. He talks a big game about the MLA's goals, but when the pivotal moment comes in Deika, he bails on the battle that was assigned to him to try and help RD instead. He claims that pure strength is to be valued above all else, but his loyalties don’t change when Gigantomachia bats him aside like a fly or when Shigaraki proves himself to be An Strongest. Even up to Jakku, Geten is still concerned solely with Re-Destro. With no real reason to pit RD against the kids, there’s no reason to throw Geten against them, either.
The only person Geten has an established rivalry with is, of course, Dabi, but getting the two of them even in the same vicinity again is going to require breaking the MLA leaders out of jail, which clearly isn't a priority of AFO's, and he's the one running the show right now. Would Shigaraki bother? He might, particularly if RD, Trumpet and Geten all get shipped to whatever Tartarus Lite Mr. Compress and Machia are likewise bound for. But if the story is headed to its conclusion, is Shigaraki ever going to get that option?
Is AFO the final boss? If so, it doesn't seem to leave much of an opening for the MLA to become relevant again, because, again, the MLA are all about Tomura's victory, Tomura’s ascendant arc as a villain, his status as a hero to other villains (namely RD). If Deku "saving" Shigaraki from All For One is going to magically resolve all of Tomura's issues with society as a whole, because hey, at least this kid is a good person, so his society can't be so bad after all! (GAG), that doesn't seem to leave much room to get into the myriad issues with society that all of Tomura's followers have. Frankly, the only thing the MLA has to offer Deku right now that's remotely relevant to his current goals is Re-Destro's starry-eyed explanation about why he's fallen so hard for Shigaraki, and Spinner is better suited for that role on basically every level.
So that’s all been one big if. The other alternative is the ending I'm hoping we get, in which Deku and Shigaraki join forces to put an end to AFO, only for Shigaraki to thank Deku cordially and then get right back to destroying things because, surprise surprise, Midoriya Izuku being a good person doesn't absolve Hero Society of all of its many, many sins. Then I can see there being room for the MLA to return. At that point, not only is there RD’s devotion to Shigaraki on offer, but also the MLA’s ideology of Liberation, what it is, what it offers, along with, for example, more on whatever Harima Oji’s complaints were about heroes, more on what has to change systemically to satisfy Shigaraki’s grudge. That’s a story the MLA can meaningfully contribute to, and therefore a story in which Geten and his quirk supremacist beliefs are more likely to be addressed.
However, I’m not optimistic that we’re going to get that ending, and until we find out whether Shigaraki will be satisfied with being rescued from AFO (if, indeed, he survives the process at all), or whether he and his compatriots’ societal issues will be left by the wayside, I’m not yet prepared to spend a lot of time theorizing on how the MLA’s role in it would look.
As to the specific question of Dabi killing Geten--honestly? I think that moment is past. While I said earlier that Dabi is Geten’s only established rivalry, that is frankly being more generous than their relationship actually warrants. After all, we haven’t seen them interact since Deika, and literally the only time one of them has so much as thought of the other in that period was Dabi grumbling, “That icy punk sure knows how to let loose,” after Geten’s big wall of ice attack allows Tokoyami to get away with Hawks. If their continued animosity were going to be a plot point, and especially if Dabi were going to murder him in cold blood eventually, Horikoshi should have shown us the two of them antagonizing each other as co-lieutenants of the Violet Regiment.
At this point, Dabi has made his big play, revealed his identity to the world. I think he's pretty locked into the Todoroki Drama now; he has bigger concerns than going back and winning a grudge match against Geten. Also too, given the point he's trying to prove about the strength of his/Endeavor's flames, would he even want Geten's quirk? If he were to get it, would he get the "evolved" version or just the basic one?(3) Because given the precedent set by both the mechanics of Monoma's Copy and AFO's comments about Jeanist's Fiber Master, I'd be inclined to think the latter, and Geten's ice powers are way less badass without the temperature control, especially for a dude trying to wield them in concert with flames of the temperature Dabi uses.
From a narrative standpoint, Geten has already been punished for his hubris with a personal defeat, the humbling of his leader, a loss of pride in his organization, and then a second, much more damning defeat and subsequent capture at the hands of heroes. Dabi taking his quirk and killing him at this point would just be kicking--indeed, killing--him when he’s already down. It doesn’t feel like karma; it just feels malicious.
That said, in the rather dubiously scaffolded scenario that the MLA gets free and finds their way back to the League and AFO/Shigaraki takes Geten's quirk(4) and Dabi accepts it, would Dabi then kill Geten with it?
…I mean, maybe? Do people think that Dabi is that much of a sadist? Because it would be the act of a sadist, to murder a kid who's almost certainly younger than he is and might even still be a teenager, one who has just been violently stripped of any ability to defend himself, all out of a desire for petty revenge over a months-old slight--a slight consisting of Geten parroting rhetoric he learned from the weird cult he grew up in, and which Dabi has very possibly been working with Skeptic long enough to know is maybe not all that accurate a characterization of the cult's ideals anyway!
And that brings me to Part 2. ---------------------------------------
(1) Four, if you count the clone’s destruction.
(2) Even 1-A's two remaining powerhouses don't present any more of a threat to Geten's ice than Dabi did, and Shouto will only give him more of it to work with. Their advantage over Dabi is that they can both sort of fly, which might well tip the balance--one of Geten's major advantages is his ability to manipulate ice from a considerable distance away, farther away than Dabi's flames can reach, but flying opponents deprive him of that advantage. Now, Shouto's flying is fairly unstable, so I suspect Geten is more maneuverable in the air, but his maneuverability wouldn't save him from Bakugou, the human equivalent of the anger-powered jetpack.
(3) Set aside the Doylist explanations about anyone who stole Geten's quirk getting the version the audience already knows purely out of laziness, forgetfulness, or authorial fiat.
(4) And look me dead in the eye and tell me Geten would just let Shigaraki Tomura or anything currently inhabiting his body just casually stroll up and lay hands on him without protest. Not to say I think AFOmura couldn't do it, but doing it in a "cool," dramatic way would probably involve some lightning movements we have not seen him make thus far.
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trying something new (with disastrous results)
summary: “It certainly sounds like you’re picking ridiculous facial hair over our dear Lieutenant over there,” Havoc baited. “I’m not.” “Then shave it off. Shave it off right now.”
an: more memes for u all. uhhh ignore canon and military rules completely. this is pure crack and just something dumb i cooked up one night. it's been sitting unpublished for months and i just found it again today lol so time to yeet it into the world. hope you enjoy!
rated: t | words: 1322 | tags: crack, roy’s moustache, bets and wagers, post-canon, humour, its roasting roy hours at central command
read on: ao3 | ffnet
“I don’t think he can do it,” Havoc mused. His chair tipped back, and he swung it gently back and forth. “I think he’ll cave first.”
“I do too.” Breda agreed with his colleague immediately.
“Hey,” Roy protested quietly.
“Sorry, sir,” Fuery added. “But I’m going to have to go with Hawkeye on this one.”
“The lack of support,” Roy muttered to himself. “What did I do to deserve such insubordination?”
“No,” Havoc interjected. “The real question is why would you want to keep that God-awful moustache over kissing a gorgeous lady?” Havoc’s arms were thrown up in the air, his question loud and incredulous.
The team muttered their agreement together while Roy’s irritation grew. However, he did notice that Riza had diligently continued to work, but was smirking to herself as she listened in. Her expression had softened after hearing Havoc’s compliment.
“It’s not that –” Roy had started to plead his case but was immediately shot down.
“It certainly sounds like you’re picking ridiculous facial hair over our dear Lieutenant over there,” Havoc baited.
“I’m not.”
“Then shave it off. Shave it off right now.”
“I want to try something different,” Roy exclaimed. “I’m allowed!”
“Something different is fine,” Breda reassured him “That thing on your face?” He pointed directly at Roy, “is not fine.”
Sighing heavily, Roy gritted his teeth. “I want to give it a try. I’ll have it for a week then I’ll remove it if it offends you all so much.” He glared at each and every member of his team.
“Shave it off now,” Havoc fired back relentlessly. “Do my eyes a favour.”
“Listen,” Breda interjected to try and diffuse the tension that was building between him and Havoc. “Keep it a week… but I do think you’ll cave before her in this wager,” he added quickly with a smirk.
Havoc leaned over their desks and gave him a high five.
The “caving in” was referring to a dumb bet they’d created. The team were against him, betting Roy would give in and shave off his new facial hair before the end of the week because Riza wouldn’t kiss him so long as he had it. She hadn’t revealed to the team her thoughts on it verbally, but they’d been able to guess through her looks and raised eyebrows alone. They knew she wasn’t fond of it.
Riza had told Roy exactly what she thought of the moustache over the weekend. Her face had screwed up and she begged him to tell her it was a joke. It hurt his pride, but he still wanted to try something different. Facial hair would make him look older, more dignified. Plus, he thought if he kept it for long enough, they’d all shut up and get used to it. Then they’d come up with this bet and all vestige of hope had gone out the window. After seeing the look on Riza’s face the night before, he didn’t doubt she’d never kiss him again so long as he had the moustache. However, Riza Hawkeye wasn’t that shallow… but now with the prospect of a bet, would she actually agree to it? Did she hate it that much? He couldn’t go a week without kissing her. He was a weak-willed man when it came to Riza Hawkeye.
He’d just wanted to try something different, Roy thought sadly.
“Imagine choosing a moustache over your significant other,” Havoc shook his head.
Roy could see the amusement on his face as he continued to push Roy’s buttons, but it was still irritating him.
“Havoc!”
“Why are you angry at me? I’m right!”
“Lieutenant Havoc is correct, sir,” Fuery cut in. “It looks that way to me too,” he admitted quietly.
“I will fire you all,” Roy growled.
“Do it,” Havoc challenged with a grin. “Then you’ll be up shit creek without a paddle,” he cackled.
“All over a moustache,” Breda mused. Then, he sat back in his chair, turning to face his superior. “I will say though, I really do admire your commitment to it.”
Riza stood from her desk and approached Roy’s desk slowly. She handed him the paperwork she’d worked through. All it needed now was his signature.
“I’m not choosing it over you,” he reminded her. He made his expression earnest, willing her to understand. He hadn’t thought about how his decision would seem until the rest of the team brought it up.
“I don’t think discussions of personal and private affairs are appropriate for the office, sir,” she reminded him.
“It’s okay, Hawkeye,” Breda called over his shoulder. “You can openly admit you hate it.”
“I’ve already shared my thoughts on the matter, sir,” she replied evenly. She was giving nothing away.
“So, do you agree to the bet Lieutenant?” Havoc raised both eyebrows expectantly. "Do you agree not to kiss him so long as he has it?"
“While that is highly inappropriate for the workplace, Lieutenant Havoc, will it at least make you all go back to work?”
Roy’s stomach dropped and dread crept up his spine. He couldn’t go a week –
“Yeah,” Havoc agreed with his shit-eating grin.
“Deal.” Her response was immediate, and Roy’s shoulders slumped. “Now, let’s make our time in here productive, shall we?”
“Gladly.”
Roy glared at Havoc, who looked like the cat who’d gotten the cream.
* * *
“You really won’t kiss me if I have it?”
Roy looked like a lost puppy following Riza around her apartment. His expression was forlorn, and he looked crushed by her accepting the bet.
“I won’t lose a bet.” Her tone was resolute and final. Now that the team had made it more interesting, she was invested. Plus, if it got them to actually work instead of them spending all their time teasing Roy, Riza would gladly take it.
“Riza,” he whined, sounding like a child.
“Well, you’ll just have to shave it off,” she shrugged, as if nothing else could be done.
Roy sighed heavily. He walked over to her couch and flopped down. Hayate took one look at him, cocked his head, then went the other way. Even the dog hated it.
Riza felt sorry for him. But it was awful. A thicker moustache would be better, or even a beard, but not that pencil thin one. She’d told him that and he’d haughtily told her he didn’t care what anyone thought. He wanted to try it. So, she’d shrugged and went on her way. After their day at the office today, Riza was sure his opinion had changed.
“I don’t want to lose the bet either,” he muttered. “I have my pride on the line here too.”
“Then your decision is made.” Riza sat down on the opposite end of the couch. She curled her legs underneath her, watching his side profile with a smile as he stared up at the ceiling. “May the best person win.”
It would be interesting to see the outcome. It would be hard not being so close with him for a week, but they’d had almost two decades of practice. She’d be able to last. Roy, however… It would be fascinating to see how he faired. Her curiosity was piqued now that there was a bet involved.
“Yeah, yeah,” Roy muttered to himself miserably, staring up at the ceiling.
* * *
He lasted two days.
“Pay up, sucker!” Havoc whooped, holding his hand out to Roy.
“I may be a sucker,” Roy agreed. “But at least I’m with someone,” he snickered.
“That was a low blow,” Havoc pouted after a brief pause, looking hurt.
“So was making fun of my moustache,” Roy countered. He gave them their money then sat at his desk. “Now, it’s payback time,” he grinned.
Havoc and Breda’s shoulders slumped while Fuery just laughed quietly to himself.
“No,” Hawkeye warned, “now it’s working time. Get to it.”
They all scrambled for their pens.
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