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jigglyjeon · 11 days ago

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all the things she said -> jjk (finale)

summary: he had you and lost you all in the span of a few hours, what will it take to prove to you that you’re all he could ever want and need? as jungkook tries to wriggle his way back into your sheltered heart, taehyung tries to reconcile with you. jungkook is the one he faces at the door instead.

rating: R18+ MATURE, minors please do not interact

genre: roommate au, angst, smut

word count: 12k

warnings/tags: this is so angsty omo, swearing (is it even a warning atp lmfao), lots of kissing, caressing, so much touching how does oc even breathe, fingering, more friendship break ups:(, time jump at the end, big and full-circle moment secret reveal.

notes: it's heree!!! the final part of attss! i gave myself whiplash writing this lmfao. i hope you guys enjoyed this series, it's kind of bittersweet that it's over huh :c but if you enjoyed reading about this couple, i’m so more than happy to write drabbles for them, or answer any questions about these characters! (and for any of my ocs/couples! i love interacting with you guys so don’t be shy and send some in if that’s something you’re interested in <3) i hope you enjoyed the absolute MESS that was all the things she said.

soundtrack: getting lighter - goldmund // it’ll all work out - phoebe bridgers // i was made for loving you - tori kelly (feat. ed sheeran)

⋆ ࣪. masterlist ˖ ࣪⭑

<- prev

Jungkook had woken up early in hopes to catch you. He waited a good half an hour, looking clean and put together, but the bags beneath his eyes made it known that he wasn’t doing great. He had spent the entire night pacing his room, convincing himself to knock on your door and explain that it really wasn’t it looked like.

Well, it kind of was.

Him and Yuri were a thing for a few months, you knew that as well as him, but the text was a misunderstanding. Jungkook didn’t have a chance to explain that he had been blowing Yuri off for weeks, that her reply was laced with sarcasm in response to the dry one-worded answers he’d been giving her.

It wasn’t fair, and it was wrong, and he knew that. It wasn’t fair to Yuri, and it wasn’t fair to you. Therefore, Jungkook felt stuck.

He was still in the wrong no matter what he decided to tell you, and he wasn’t sure you wanted to hear any of what he had to say either way.

He leans against the kitchen counter with a luke-warm cup of coffee, waiting for you to march through your door snd demand answers from him, and he was prepared to give them to you. He had spent all night practising what it was he was going to say to you.

Eventually you do come storming out, your bag slung over your shoulder. Your features are flat, hair pulled back into a ponytail, your face flushed as if you had only just recently stopped crying. He stands up straight when your presence enters the living room, but he doesn’t even get to let a word past his lips, he can only suck in breath because you head straight for the door, closing the door calmly behind you. You don’t spare him a glance; you don’t even turn around.

You were out of the apartment just as quickly as you walked into the room. Jungkook sighs, dumping his coffee into the sink, grabbing his bag before heading out the door for work.

When he gets to work, he decides he isn’t going to force it, he’s not gonna check his phone every two seconds in hopes you’ve replied to his message(s). He’ll give you space, let you breathe if that’s what you wanted. He wishes he knew what you were thinking, and he wondered if this was enough of a fuck up on his end to make you hate him. He thinks you hating him might be the scariest thing that could happen to him. Scarier than that time his coffee mug exploded in the microwave at work a couple of months ago, and he had found that moment to be particularly terrifying.

He’s leaning too far forward into the screen as he types, and when Jimin rolls over in his seat he clicks his tongue. Jimin grabs the back of Jungkook’s collar, pulls him back slightly and gives the buff baby a stern look. It reminds him terribly of his mother, which only reminds him that he should call her, it’s been a while. “Don’t slouch, Jungkookie.” The brunette grunts at his supervisor and friend, leaning back instead, and turning back to his work.

Jimin lets out a careful breath, “So, you look like death today.” He rolls closer to Jungkook so that he’s beside him, tapping a pen against the table to garner his attention. “What’d you do this time?”

Jungkook lifts his fingers from his keyboard, puffs out a frustrated breath. He brings his stiff fingers to rub at his tired eyes. “What didn’t I do?” He mumbled, mostly to himself, “I completely took advantage of the girl I love, is what I did.” He scrubs his palms over his face. “Why did I do that?” When he finally looks at Jimin, his eyes are red. He fails to hide the way they’ve glossed over slightly, even though he’s managed to keep his voice steady.

“I’m not following, kid…” Jimin looks at him worriedly, lifting his hand to his friends’ tense shoulders. “Are you alright?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Y/N saw a text from Yuri on my phone last night, and–”

“So what? Doesn’t she know that you two were hooking up?” Jimin frowns, his brows pinching together, bracing himself for what Jungkook is about to reveal to him. Because Jimin knew him, which meant that he also knew you, by default; he knew that you rarely ever got mad at Jungkook, and if there was going to be a reason for it, it was going to be a valid one. As much as he loved and cared for the younger boy, he was renowned for making mistakes. Especially with women. But this was you that they were talking about; Jungkook wasn’t going to take it lightly when it came to his chances with you.

“Yeah, but the text she sent me made it look like we were still hooking up.”

Jungkook had met Yuri at a college part you’d invited him to in late November last year. With absolutely zero intention to sleep with anyone, he had simply agreed because it meant that he got to watch out for you while you got drunk and partied yourself into the ground. To celebrate, you had told him, to let loose. Of course, there had been a theme, which of course was Slutty Santa, and that meant you dressed as a skimpy little elf. You wore a tiny little red and green outfit; with white knee-high socks and a pair of regular loafers you already owned. He remembers it vividly, how could he forget when it was all he could see the entire night; it didn’t matter that the house was dim, the only form of light the LED ones hung along the walls— you stood out to him like the single star that shined just a little bit brighter than the others in the night sky. You always had.

It was jealousy that led him into the arms of a red head with fox eyes, the black dress and Santa hat she wore was lazy work to the theme that Jungkook himself hadn’t even indulged in, maybe it was why he had found himself standing by her, engaging in conversation. Yuri wasn’t subtle in her motivations, touching his arm and smiling sweetly at him. He looked between you and her, and when you had fallen into the lap of a guy he didn’t even know, but you apparently had known so well, he had let Yuri lead him up the stairs and into a vacant bedroom. She was a beautiful woman in her own right, but even when he indulged himself in the way she kissed him, slow with lust, he found it hard to see anyone else but you when his eyes fell shut.

That was that.

He only sees how bad that was when he thinks back to that night, where his possessiveness over a girl who didn’t want him allowed him to make poor decisions. He shuts his eyes tight, blinking rapidly when the ring of his pupil’s pounds through his vision as he tries to adjust them. It makes his head spin instead of ridding himself of the memories of his missteps like he’d intended it to.

“Are you?” Jimin raises a brow that’s met with a deep, sharp glare. He holds up his hands in defence, “Just asking.”

“I haven’t been entertaining Yuri at all since Y/N told me she wanted to give me a chance.”

“Did you tell Yuri that, though?”

Yuri? Why would he tell Yuri? That wasn’t relevant to her or to the arrangement they had together. “No, it’s none of her business.”

Jimin tuts, shaking his head with a disappointed look on his face. “You are such a mess, you know that?”

He expects Jungkook to grow defensive, he always did when he was slapped in the face with the harsh truth, but the change in his demeanour makes Jimin’s stomach turn.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at him. “Why didn’t you tell me it was Taehyung?”

“I told you I didn’t think it wasn’t good timing–“

“He’s one of my best fucking friends, Jimin!” He whisper-shouts, his jaw stiffening. His sadness merging into the anger he felt last night. “You should have at least told Y/N.”

Jimin nods, “I was coming over here to talk to you about that, actually.” He chews on his lip, rummaging his thoughts for the right words to say. He takes that time to really look at Jungkook.

He looks tired, like he hasn’t even had the chance to shut his eyes. Surely it wasn’t over you finding Yuri’s text. No, there was more to it, and he could tell; it evident in the way his usually lively features were drooping with exhaustion, anger, frustration; his notably big eyes were heavy with the lack of rest he had gotten, and it’s been a while since Jimin’s seen Jungkook so shaken up about something.

He wasn’t going to bounce back quickly from this like his usual self would.

“I was wrong, I–“ Jungkook’s stare remains firm, causing Jimin’s head to drop, looking to the ground with a deflated sigh. “It was wrong of me to keep it from you, from Y/N, too. I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Yeah, well, you were wrong.”

“I know!” Jimin tosses his pen onto the table with frustration. Jungkook eyes the pen, watches it roll off the table with a dull thud against the carpet floors. With a sigh, he gives Jungkook a sincere look, “I know, I’m sorry.”

For the first time in a long while, Jimin looks apologetic. It’s only then Jungkook softens his gaze, letting his shoulders roll forward. Maybe it wasn’t exactly fair to be taking it out on Jimin, although he stands by the fact he should have told him the minute, he discovered the truth, he trusts in Jimin when he says he was trying to do the right thing. Jimin was always trying to do what he thinks is best for everyone, even for you, even when he was harsh and stern with you about your intentions with Jungkook. While you knew that, it sometimes left you wondering whether he actually liked you or not. Ever the overthinker, you’d always confide in Jungkook about that. Even when his answer was always the same.

“I just, Y/N isn’t this perfect girl that can do no wrong. I think sometimes you forget she’s just a girl.” Jimin explains, “She’s allowed to be special to you, you’re allowed to love her, but just like you, she makes mistakes.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “What are you saying? Aren’t I the one who’s making the mistakes? I got so blinded by her wanting me that I forgot that the rest of the world was still going on around me.”

“I’m just saying she has flaws. One you have in common is that you both lack good communication skills, and if you don’t learn how to, well, talk— it’s going to be a problem for you in the long run.”

Jungkook groans, throws his head back against the chair and folds his arms over his chest. His head has not stopped throbbing since he came into work. For a moment he wonders if you’re okay; a deep part of him hopes that you’re not letting any of it ruin your day, that it’s not affecting you as much as it was affecting him. But it was wishful thinking because he saw the way you walked out of your shared space, avoided seeing him altogether.

He knows you have a big test coming up that you’ve been head-in-books over, and he feels guilty when he thinks about how this was probably piling onto the stress you were currently feeling. He had always admired how hard you work, had always found that part of you attractive— he wasn’t a model student himself, so he really thought it was admirable how consistent and serious you were to your crafts.

“So, should I text her?” He asks, letting go of the anger he had previously directed at Jimin. There was no use for that now, and he was tired of throwing his emotions out on his sleeve. It was starting to suck the life out of him.

“Yeah actually, for once I think that might be a good idea.” Jimin nods, “Take your half-hour if you need it.”

Being alone and to be lonely were two different things— to be alone meant to breathe, to recharge when your batteries inevitably depleted, and all you wanted to do was curl up on your couch with a blanket and some cookies and milk to snack of while you watched the Twilight series back-to-back.

The feeling of being lonely, though? Well, you knew in that moment that it meant to feel lost. Hollow inside, constantly on the verge of tears. To be in a desperate search for a hand to grab onto, a shoulder to lean on; for someone that tells you everything will be okay, that you’re not alone.

It was clear then— this was loneliness. You have never ached so hard, never felt so out of place. Jungkook was the person you turned to for everything; when you got into a fight with Jia, because you always used to butt heads with her because you were both stubborn and head-strong, or when Jimin had something a little bit too honest that hurt your feelings.

You wonder if cutting them off was a good move. They hadn’t reached out since the part, like there was an unspoken silence of the end of an era, the fading of a friendship that was at its foreseeable end. Now you somewhat wish you could pull out your phone and text them, tell them that they were right and men really were impossible.

Still, you can’t help but believe that all of this is your fault. It was you that had kept such a vulnerable secret from the people you loved. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You don’t know why you find it easy not to say things, to keep them locked away in the taverns of your soul where no one can find them; where your flaws can’t be picked apart, where the people you wanted validation from couldn’t tear you to shreds and realise that you’re damaged.

You hugged your bag to your chest in search of comfort, instead of wearing it over your shoulders like regular. You took your time walking through the courtyard and watched idly as people walked by you; the very people you never bothered to take a second glance at once.

They were the people you’ve attended the same university as for the past three years, smiling and laughing with a friend, or holding hands with their loved one. It only deepened the frown on your face, wondering why you’ve deprived yourself of that. Why were you afraid to make eye contact and smile at a stranger, knowing that if it were you, it would probably make your day a little bit easier. Knowing that you’ve been acknowledge, that you were noticed.

Your bottom lip wobbled when you looked over into the field, where a couple was making a little bit too much noise; a boyfriend that lifted his girlfriend up in his arms with ease, spinning her around and making her laugh hysterically. You think of him then:

Jungkook.

He had sent you a text just before your tutorial had ended, and you hadn’t didn’t reply. You were mad, or sad, or– okay, you admit you don’t really know what you’re feeling. You just felt heavy with emotions, you feel let down. If this were any other guy you were sure you’d find it easier to put one foot in front of the other and keep your shoulders straight. You’d still be smiling, enjoying the sun and seeing the bright side of things. Music playing through your headphones, blocking any chance to feel sadness, or betrayal. What was meant to be would be, and if it wasn’t— then it wouldn’t.

All the walls you had spent years building around your heart had immediately crumbled into dust the moment you felt his lips on yours. His gentle touches, the fluttered pecks along your neck, they all lingered; the ghost of his touch haunting you in your darkest hour. Could it be that you’re using Yuri as an excuse to push Jungkook’s heart away? Maybe partially, because pushing people away felt easier when things got too real. You convinced that all bad things had a purpose to you, and that you were made to deal with on your own.

You pause on your walk to your car, resting your back against a building wall, sniffling. Your tears feel hot when they fall past your eyes. The more you blinked, the more that fell.

You can’t help but think that Jimin had always been right about you; you were avoidant and dismissive, not so much towards other people but to the person that mattered most— yourself. You weren’t the easy-going person you portrayed yourself to be, not the way Yuri was.

Jungkook had always felt like home to you. Being near him steadied your heart and made you feel light. You had mistaken it for the great platonic connection that you had with him; you were comfortable around him, he was easy to talk to, and he never looked at you like you were strange when you let the most unhinged thoughts slip out loud.

He made everything feel better when times got a little bit too tough, and that was something you couldn’t say for any of the other guys you’ve dated over the course of your life. To be comfortable in a relationship was a foreign concept to you, you weren’t meant to let them see your weaknesses because that’s what friendship was for. That’s what you thought.

That gurgling feeling in your stomach whenever Yuri sat in your kitchen in his clothes, it wasn’t because it was late and you needed a snack— it was because you were envious. You were jealous that she was beautiful and very much the type of girl you had always envisioned being with him. Yuri was patient and comfortable with herself and just overall chill about everything— everything except for him.

You knew she had to be crazy about him, because how could she not be? You knew it so not only because she would glow every time she looked at him, but because you were also crazy about him, and you thought she would have to be clinically insane not to be.

Still, he had chosen you. In the words of his own, he had always chosen you. Though right now it didn’t feel sincere. Even if you knew that his feelings were true, because Jungkook plastered his emotions on his face like post it notes on a corkboard. But if he was going to toss Yuri aside like she meant nothing to him.

What’s to say he won’t do the same to you the moment you let your guard down with him?

It’s what you’ve always been afraid of, no matter how much you trusted him. What if the way he claimed to yearn for you was all in the name of the chase, of wanting something he couldn’t have?

You know that it was too late, because you’ve already shown him that the things he did, they mattered to you. That the choices he made, how they affected you. You thought of Yuri, what she’d think if she knew. Did she already know? Would she hate you if she knew? You wonder why that even mattered to you, why you cared so much about what she’d think. Even if she did have something that you’ve always wanted.

Now that you’ve had him, you know it was going to be impossible for you to let him go. It was going to be so much harder to separate your feelings for him when you’ve already allowed him to worm his way into your thoughts and dreams. There was no going back to being his roommate— Jungkook wasn’t just your best friend anymore.

Maybe he never was.

That’s why you couldn’t go home, not yet. You needed to recollect yourself and breathe before you could face him again. Without looking at him with tears in your eyes, all while desperate to fall into his arms for comfort, even if he was the reason for them. When you find yourself in front of Jimin’s apartment instead of your own, you don’t even realise just how long you’re parked, ruminating in your spiralling thoughts. When Jimin knocks on your window, it hardly even makes you flinch. You lift your forehead off the steering wheel, peering up at him with dreary eyes and stained cheeks. He looks through the glass with a confused expression that silently asks you what you’re doing here. It makes you pout, and you start to cry again.

Jimin clicks his tongue, cocking his head towards his home, even opens the door for you to climb out of the driver’s seat. You lock your car and drag your feet behind him, following him into his apartment. He waits until your sat in his kitchen, a cup of cool water held delicately between your hands. Your fingers tap against the glass, palms slightly wet from the condensation. You take another sip before he plants it on the counter.

“He didn’t exactly tell me what he did, but I can muster up some ideas.” He leans in front of you, a careful smile on his full lips. You pucker your lips, staring into the peppery pattern of the marble. It’s then he scoffs, his grin is bright though it holds no humour to it. “God, I feel like a therapist.”

“You’re too honest to be a therapist.” Your voice cracks, but he doesn’t mention it or tease you for it the way he normally would.

“That’s why I’m a supervisor at an office.” He snorts, “Jungkook works hard though, does his job well.” He nods, taking a sip of his third cup of coffee of the day. He had garnered a bit of a caffeine addiction, and he blames everyone else but himself for that.

You hum, “We slept together.”

Jimin carefully lets the mouthful of coffee spill slowly back into his cup, putting it down and pushing it aside. “This he failed to tell me.” He raises his brows.

“It was my fault. I was sad, I was angry, and I was confused–”

“So, you regret it?” He cuts you off.

“No! Not at all. It was…” There’s a slight tug at the corners of your lips, looking up as you think back to the moment.

“Okay, no need for details.”

“Magical.”

“Alright, okay.” He makes an x with his hands, tapping his wrists together “Time out.”

You chuckle lightly, “You know when he started to see Yuri, I closed up my heart to him completely.” You begin, your small smile falters. “I was so sure then, that he had found someone good for him.”

“Even though I spent that night in someone else’s bed, all I could think about was him. I was so used to him being available, and there for me all the time. I took advantage of that, and I realised how much I wanted him because after that I didn’t even so much as look at another guy. Even when he brought Yuri home, let her sleep in his bed.”

Jimin watches you carefully as you talk, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth in hopes to stop yourself from crying anymore. “Then the money my parents had lent me had started running out, and I couldn’t find a job that suited my availability and then I found that stupid app.”

“It helped me forget, made me feel good about myself when my heart was hurting. It’s not his fault, but I sometimes wonder if it would have been different if one of us just said something. I didn’t even know–” You take a breath, steadying your emotions, “I don’t understand why Taehyung did that. He’s always been so kind to me, and he’s one of Jungkook’s closest friends.”

Jimin nods, “I’ve never liked Taehyung. I think he’s always had this secret animosity towards Jungkook. Always competing with him, wanted the things that he had. When Jungkook got a job at our office, Taehyung was stuck as a mechanic.”

You never saw it that way. Taehyung had always seemed comfortable in who he was, content with his life. Whenever you were around him and Jungkook, they were always laughing and having fun together. There were parts of their relationship that had gone unnoticed by you, or perhaps you hadn’t spent the time to really analyse it all the way Jimin seemingly had.

“I think naturally he envied what you and Jungkook had. When I confronted him, he told me that you liked you, too. Actually, he said he saw you first? Whatever that means.”

“What does he mean by that?” You tilt your head.

Jimin isn’t sure what would do more damage than good. The things Taehyung had told him had left him confused, yes, but they did make sense to him. A lot of people had crushes on people that didn’t even know they existed, he supposed it wasn’t a totally foreign concept. He himself remembers the people he admired from afar, especially during his school days.

“Apparently, he ran with the same crowd you did, like a year or so before you moved in with Jungkook.” He explains, “I guess he’d always had his eyes on you.” He shrugs, feeling slightly awkward as you look into the distance at nothing in particular, processing the idea he had just planted in your head.

“I didn’t meet Taehyung until I moved in with Jungkook.” You shake your head, like you’re trying to convince yourself of the fact.

“I’m sure that’s true, or– I don’t know. Don’t take this the wrong way, but is possible you just don’t remember?” Jimin asks, pressing his lips together into a thin line.

You groan when you think about those times. You did do a lot of drinking, that much was true. You roll your head back, suddenly feeling the stiffness in your neck. “It’s not impossible, if what he’s saying is true.”

Jimin only hums, nodding idly.

You pull out your phone to check the time, your eyes drop to the notifications left unopened. Your thumbs over it, you hold your breath when you tap on them.

He watches the way your thumbs over the keyboard on your phone, typing out messages, visibly deleting them when you tap on the same spot repeatedly, clearly removing your reply altogether.

“Go,” Jimin urges. “Talk to him. speak from the heart, just say everything— just don’t let your fears obscure the truth of it all. It’ll work out better that way, I promise you.”

When you look at him, he can tell that you’re just by the way your eyes water through a tightened smile that you’re grateful for him. You’re glad he was there for you when you needed him to be, the way a friend should do. No judgement, no picking apart your errors, just an ear to listen and a gentle outlook.

With a final nod, you let him walk you to the door, groaning when he ruffles your hair and pushes gently on your shoulder, thanking him before he closes the door.

Standing in front of your door, you don’t expect to hear the amount of noise coming from the other side. Clashing of cookware and utensils sound through to make it known that he was there. You try to be as quiet as possible when you shove the key through the door, careful in the way you step into the apartment.

You’re successful, he doesn’t notice you’re there yet. It gives you a moment to take in the sight of him. His back turned to you, the string of the apron tied neatly against his back, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows as he muttered under his breath.

Jungkook whips around the moment he hears the door shut, wide eyes and parted lips. There’s a line of flour along his cheekbone, and when he wiped the back of his hand along his nose it leaves some at the tip of it as well. “Y/N, hey.” His nose twitches, fighting off a smile. He’s not sure if you’d appreciate the gesture or not, not yet.

“What are you doing?” You ask him softly. Your hands linger on the doorknob as you press your back against the door.

“I’m making cookies.” He nods fast, the nerves evident in the way he wipes his palms against his apron. Your apron. “F-for you.” He huffs, shutting his eyes when you stare at him blankly, turning his back to you again as he continues making an absolute mess of the kitchen.

But the aroma it sends throughout the apartment makes your insides flutter with a warmth and giddiness that you fail to subdue. Warm cookies have to be one of those scents that could make nearly everything feel better; maybe it was why you lingered around in the bakery section at the supermarket in the mornings. You slip away from the door, sneak your way to his side. He can hear the quiet patter of your sock-clad feet against the floor. He doesn’t look up at you when you stand beside him, but he can see you in his peripherals.

He wipes at the dampness on his forehead with his forearm, rolling the last of the dough he’d made into a ball to put onto a second baking try. You peak over him where there’s a batch that’s already been cooked. You can tell it’s mixed with white and semi-sweet chocolate chips. That was your favourite, but of course he knew that.

“Jungkook.” You try, resting your temple against the fridge, your fingers still fiddling behind your back. He hums in response, opening the oven to put the tray of cookie dough inside, only to look over all the mess he’d created for himself. Preoccupied, he moves the tray of cookies to the other side of the kitchen out of his way. You shadow him as he moves back and forth within the space. “Jungkook.”

His knuckles hit the underside of the marble, and he grunts, shaking his hand off as the pain sears through his arm. The exhale he lets out shakes slightly, but he meets your waiting eyes. “Yeah?” He exhales.

“I think we should talk about last night.” You push yourself off the fridge, walk toward him slowly. He’s frozen in his spot, forgetting all about what he was meant to be doing. His eyes don’t leave your face, not even breaking contact as you reach around his head, slowly remove the apron from around his neck, moving them down to release the knot that kept it tight around his waist. You toss it onto the table, avoiding his deep stare, letting yours look over his chest that rose and fell faster than normal. You can still feel it even when you turn your back to him, creating some distance between you.

“Y/N–”

“Don’t say sorry.” You stop him. “I just want to know if you love her.”

Jungkook blinks at you from behind. “Yuri?” He almost laughs. But then he sees the way you turn your head, not quite looking over your shoulder at him, but showing him a part of your expression. You were serious. “Not even close.” Because it’s you that I love, he thinks to himself. It doesn’t quite come out, though.

“I could feel this…aching in my chest–” Your fingers twitch, reaching up to rest just where you heart sat inside of you. “–seeing you with her. You seemed happy.” You admit, your throat growing dry as you speak words you’d never imagine would fall past your lips, would ever move past fleeting thoughts. “Seeing you with her only made how I felt for you real, and that terrified me.” You let the silence ring between you, but when he doesn’t speak you allow yourself to continue.

“I never saw that guy you know. After the Christmas party.” When you turn around, your initial fear of his eyes piercing into you rings true. For once, you don’t let it shake you. “But you kept Yuri around.”

He opens his mouth, goes to say something but you don’t allow it, there was too much you wanted to say, so you say it. “I thought what you had was serious. I just wanted to leave it alone, pretend that I wasn’t so incredulously into my roommate–” You forget to breathe for a moment. Gasping for air, allowing your breathing pattern to settle back down. Still, you’re bracing yourself for the impact of what you’re about to say next.

“It really hurt to see you make someone else smile, someone that wasn’t me.”

He sighs shakily when your voice breaks at your confession, and the sad look in his eye alone is enough to let yourself cry. He reaches for you, rubs at your arms with a quiet hush. “Don’t cry.” He begs, because it was the most painful thing he’d have to endure— being the reason for your tears.

“I know– I know it’s selfish.” You whimper as he pulls you into his chest, burying his head into your neck, breathing you in. “To just think you could read my mind like that, to think you’d wait for me.”

“I would have, I could, Y/N— wait for you, I mean.” He rushes out, assuring you that it wasn’t just on you. “I fucked it up, okay? I act out when I get jealous. Every time you called me your best friend, I sulked and ran into Yuri’s arms thinking she was going to solve all my problems, but she didn’t.”

Your body shakes in his arms, vision blurred by the tears that didn’t stop coming. You felt so vulnerable, so beaten and broken down, everything hitting you all at once. You failed Jungkook, and you failed yourself— and you truly believed that.

“Have I ruined everything?” Jungkook laughs, but there’s no amusement to his tone. He removes himself from you, to let you breathe, but you only forget how; the moment he lets you go you feel cold— empty.

Subconsciously, your arms reach for him again, but he takes your hands in his instead, thumbs brushing over your knuckles. You watch the movement; you feel the warmth of his hands transfer into yours, uncaring of the fact they were growing clammy.

You shake your head, “You couldn’t ruin how I feel about you, I don’t think it’s possible.”

“Really?” He asks hopeful, can’t contain the way it makes his lips curl up. You release an amused breath through your nose, looking up at him shyly.

“Will you do something for me?” You ask, meek.

“Anything, dove.” His fingers wrap around your wrists, lifting your fingers to his lips. He kisses them gingerly.

“Will you talk to her? Tell her the truth.”

You can tell that he recoils slightly at the thought of that, he releases your wrists, one of his hands reaching to the back of his head. He scratches at his scalp, then runs the same hand through his hair. Jungkook hasn’t had a conversation about his feelings with Yuri, not even close. Their conversations were surface level mostly, if they weren’t indulging in a distraction from his raging emotions. Jungkook frowns, searches your features for answers. Why would you want him to talk to her when you had basically just told him that you were jealous of her? You sniffle, eyes still slightly glassy from earlier. He’s glad you’ve relaxed since, even if it was only a little.

With a huff, he nods curtly. “Okay. If that will make you happy, then I’ll talk to Yuri.”

You smile, thanking him as you reach up to cup your hand over his cheek. He places his own on top of yours. Suddenly your nose twitches, taking a step back, looking down at the oven.

“I think they might be burning.” You state, pointing at the dark-looking cookies that the both of you had long forgotten about.

Jungkook curses under his breath, throwing on the oven mitts and dragging the sweets out of the oven. He slides it onto the counter with a pout. “At least the other batch turned out okay.” He turns to you, hardly given a moment to breathe when you crash into him, your arms falling over his shoulders as you press your lips onto his unsuspecting ones.

He’s only frozen for moment, but it doesn’t take long for his mouth to catch up with his brain, his top lip closing over the top of yours. He lets out a long, happy sigh exiting through his nose. His hands come to rest on your hips, but he still stumbles backwards as you throw your weight at him, your toes not enough to support you leaning forward into him. He moans against your mouth, dragging his hands up your body until they reach your jaw. He takes your face in his hands to pull you off him gently. “I didn’t think you would forgive me just yet.”

“I don’t forgive you.” You breathe, lean forward to find his lips again. He only pecks your lips, holding your shoulders. You roll your eyes. “I also can’t stand being away from you.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, nodding in understanding. “Okay.” He leans down, kisses you softly. You blink slow when he pulls away, smiling sweetly before repeating the action. “Then I’ll keep trying.”

You melt into him when he walks you back against the counter, pressing his body flush against yours. It’s subtle, but his foot pushes between yours, forcing your legs apart without you even fully realising. “I’ll bring you flowers every day after work.” He kisses your cheek, one hand on your lower back, the other holding the back of your head steady. He feels you rest against it, letting it fall back to give him access to your throat. “I’ll make you dinner every night.” He continues, dragging his lips along your jaw. The feeling makes your eyes fall shut, and with each heavy breath you take your chest rises, colliding gently with his. “I’ll keep telling you how much I love you.”

Your eyes open, looking over his shoulder as he kisses your neck, the warmth of his tongue against your hot skin making you gasp. He pulls away, comes face to face with you. “I–” He closes the distance between you, stealing the words from your lips. Shutting you up.

“How much I always have.” He continues when he pulls away, breathy and quiet— for your ears only.

“When you’re not around, all I can think about is you. You’ve plagued my life with that pretty face of yours, and now I can’t go back.”

“That’s dangerous.” You flash him a half smile, and there’s a teasing glint in your eye. “Sweet talking like that.”

“I’m just saying how I feel.” The hand on your lower back twitches, you hardly register the way he lowers it until he grabs at your ass, making you arch your back, narrowing your eyes at him in light-hearted warning. He snickers, his forehead resting against yours as he scans your face, watching as you try to capture his lips again. He pulls away whenever you get close, your lips only ever brushing before he pulls away, he kisses your cheek, hiding his face in your hair.

“We can stop; we don’t have to do this.” He whispers against the shell of your ear, his nose dragging along the side of your neck. You whimper at the pet-name, and you fear that you won’t be able to now— you don’t think you can stop. “I’ll wait however long you need me to— I’m not going anywhere.”

Why does it feel like he’ll slip through your fingers if you say no to this? How do you say no to this when his knuckle caresses your inner thigh so patiently, never riding his touch high enough to cross a line. Why did you feel like nothing else mattered whenever his lips touched your skin? You were still not sure where you wanted this to lead, or rather, you weren’t sure you were quite ready to forgive him so easily when he had unfinished matters with another woman. A part of you felt dirty for letting him touch you, allowing him to make you want to beg for him to pleasure you; there’s another part of you that feels triumphant, and you know that’s wrong of you.

You never claimed to be good, no matter how hard you tried to be.

Nobody was good 100% of the time.

You’ve only just learnt to stay true to how you feel inside. Your morals are telling you that you should reel this in, tell him you need his friendship right now, that there were things you need to talk about first. But your body? Your body couldn’t care less about your morals right now. Above all, Jungkook was your best friend, and as much as you enjoyed the way he soothed your worries right now, Taehyung still lingered in the back of your mind.

Did Jungkook know that Taehyung knew who you were?

The question ebbs within your thoughts, but the forefront is filled with the way he has your knees giving in. You needed his arms to hold you up, needed his body pressing into yours to keep you stable. “I can’t…” you whine, to yourself or Jungkook you’re not entirely sure.

“Can’t what?” The low buzz of his voice tickles your skin, clearing your throat when you think you might moan because of it. “Talk to me, dove.”

“I…”

Speak from the heart.

“I love you,” it comes out in almost a sob, like it was hurting you to say, all while finding the hand that circled your thigh, leading it higher u, manoeuvring his fingers to skim the material of your shorts between your legs. “I love you too.” You throw your head back when his fingers move on their own, cupping your clothed crotch, pushing his palm into you. He only answers in heavy breaths, guiding your head back up so that he could kiss you again.

Who needed alcohol when you could get this intoxicated from his touch alone? If you had known so back then, in times that you were reckless, you might have waited for him to find you. Maybe then you wouldn’t have put up all of the walls that kept you from these moments. Maybe you would have had him sooner, and things wouldn’t have turned out so complicated. You realise there was no reason to dwell, not when you’re here now.

Still, you wonder. Then you might have remembered those days more clearly, remember the people around. Or maybe you’d know different people altogether. It was funny how every choice you made would change the course of your life forever, would impact every decision and every moment. It would lead you down roads you couldn’t come back from.

You didn’t need to live in your thoughts anymore though.

You knew better than anyone that you could change your life in the blink of an eye, all you had to do was snap your fingers and decide that for yourself. You’ve done it before, and you could do it again.

Knowing Jungkook had changed you for the better. With him you had learnt what it meant to be cared for, to be loved without any strings attached. Jungkook showed you what it truly meant to be seen— to be wanted. You didn’t think someone like that could exist for you; you spent the most part of two years convincing yourself of that.

But you deserved to be happy too, and for the first time – in a very long time – you truly believed that. There was no need to punish yourself for who you used to be. Not anymore.

So, you let his name fall past your lips, buck up into his hand as he pops open the button of your shorts, pulling the zipper down. You grip the edge of the counter with tightened fingers, throwing your head back completely when his hand moves to support your arching back instead of your head. He invades the place you ache for him, dipping his hand into the fabric of your underwear to drag a singular finger between your wet folds. He nips at your neck, tongue soothing over his attack to your sensitive skin.

You release a hand to hold onto his wrist as he rubs on your clit, tantalisingly slow but the feeling is delicious all the same. Your hips stutter as they chase his touch, and you’re no longer shy about the high-pitched breaths that leave your throat, your tiny mewls of desire making it known that what he’s doing is pleasing you.

“Barely touching you…” he laughs, nosing at your jaw. “Look like you’re close to cumming already.”

He’s only teasing, but he’s not wrong. The way he circles and flicks at your bundle of nerves brings your high closer than you’d anticipated. When you look up at him with heavy eyes, he raises a brow at you. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” He asks innocently.

“But Y/N…I haven’t even put my fingers in your pussy yet.” He complains playfully, but his voice deep and coarse. It rings through you and makes your legs stutter on the spot.

You release a shaky moan, your grip on his wrist tightening as you flutter around nothing, feeling empty. You noise your displeasure when he takes his finger off your clit, middle finger circling your entrance. He hums with satisfaction. “So wet, so ready for me.”

He pushes his finger inside, curling them up to prod at your sensitive walls. His thumb finds your swelling nub, rubbing you a little bit faster, in rhythm with his finger dragging in and out of you. “Oh, Jungkook, s’good…” you drag out, struggling to keep your eyes open. You want to see him, so you try but they only roll backwards as that knot in your stomach begins to build up again.

“You’re perfect,” he praises, “Look so beautiful like this.”

The sound of his fingers working you towards your orgasm sounds through the kitchen, the lewd squelch an indication of just how worked up he had made you. Jungkook watches your face contort in pleasure, teeth playing with his lip ring in concentration. He stirs in his boxers, but the thought of releasing his cock from his tightening boxers is far from his mind, too engrossed in the way you moan for him. With a final cry of his name, he leans down to quieten your keening, his tongue swirling into your mouth, soothing over yours. His finger rests inside you to the hilt, his palm resting against your heat as you ride out your orgasm on his hand.

When your noises dispel into slow, heavy breaths, he pulls his hand away, looking at you with dark eyes. He brings his soiled hand up to his lips, pushes his finger them to taste you on his tongue. He moans lowly, dragging it out slowly to tease you. You watch with wild eyes.

“Wha- I hate you.” You whinge, hiding your face in your hands. His laugh is full, genuine as he watches you cower in embarrassment. He mutters something about you being adorable, but your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears you don’t really hear him.

When your hands fall from your face, you find him already watching you, a soft glimmer to his stare that makes you want to fall into his arms all over again. He finds it endearing when you peer up at him with wonder, likely trying to figure out what he’s thinking when he looks at you with such endearment. When you blush, he hums with an upwards twitch of his lips.

It all just feels like one big dream to you.

You shake your head, pushing lightly at his chest as you brush past him. You turn around again, he leans against the counter the way you were previously, arms crossed over his chest with a smug expression.

“We are not doing this again until you talk to Yuri.” You point at him sternly with wide eyes.

He holds his hands up in front of his chest, folding them back when he nods in understanding. “Yes ma’am.”

You groan, stomping down in the hallway toward your bedroom to wash yourself up, pushing aside the thoughts of him following after you, stepping into the shower behind you.

A sheen of steam trails after you when you opened the bathroom door, walking into your bedrrom wrapped in a towel, your wet hair cascading over your shoulders. You lift your arms, pushing the wet strands over them so that the rest against your back. You only catch that he’s standing at the entrance of your room when you turn your head whilst doing so. He opens his mouth to speak but it closes again when he sees you, knocking the wind out of him. He only lingers for a moment longer before he turns around and closes your door behind him. You shake your head, giggling at the dumbfounded look on his face.

You spend your time drying your hair and putting on your pyjamas, readying yourself for the good night’s rest you missed out on the previous night.

You prance into the kitchen where Jungkook’s just finishing up cleaning the area, the cookies stacked neatly in a pile on a plate. He tosses and folds the washcloth he uses to wipe down the table nearby the sink, turning to you. He eyes you as you happily grab one, biting into the sweet treat.

The cookies are slightly over baked.

You usually liked a gooey centre, teetering the edge of raw, because you liked the different textures on your tongue. You hum in delight the moment you bite into the cookie, still enjoying its taste despite the minor indifference.

“They okay?” He asks, chewing on the fingernail of his thumb as he watches you take another bite. You nod wildly, maybe a little too enthusiastically because it makes him narrow his eyes at you. “They sound kinda hard.”

You roll your eyes, putting the half-eaten baked-good back onto the plate. “It’s yummy, Jungkook. Thank you.” You assure him with a gentle smile. “It was very sweet of you to make them for me.”

His head lowers sheepishly between his shoulders in a soft shrug. “It was least I could do on short notice.”

You snort, playfully whacking his arm with the back of your hand. You’re about to counter something witty back at him but are interrupted by a soft knocking at your door. Jungkook furrows his brows when you look at him in questioning. “You expecting someone?” You ask him.

“No… are you?” He brushes by you, ignoring the way you click your tongue at him.

“Why would I ask you if I was?” You mumble under your breath, trailing after him. You stand idly behind the door, watching Jungkook unlock it swiftly, swinging it open and covering you from the person waiting outside.

There’s a thickness that coats the air that you breathe when Jungkook doesn’t speak. You hold your breath, the silence inducing the anxiety rising within you.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jungkook seethes through his teeth, landing like daggers into the throat of his target. Your heart sinks, because you can only piece together who they might be. He’s only met with a deep sigh, and he steps back, swinging the door to shut it but a hand slams down on it to stop it from slamming.

“Wait, just let me–”

“Let you what?” You move further against the wall, pressing your back against it as your breaths shake. You were right about your initial assumption, but you don’t feel good about it. All the ringing questions that plagued your thoughts earlier had resurfaced, pounding through your ears and sitting on the edge of your tongue. You want to peak over, confront him too, but all you can do is listen to the way Jungkook spits at him. “Explain? Apologise? Which one, Taehyung? I’m looking for both personally, but I think I’m more interested in knowing why you went out of your way to ruin Y/N’s life.”

Jungkook wasn’t a terribly angry person. In the time you’ve known him, he was grumpy at best but seeing him angry was a completely new scene to experience. It made your heart race; it was intimidating, and it, even though you hadn’t planned on doing so. You can only imagine how he looks right now if he weren’t hidden from your view behind the door. Bulging eyes, his lips curling in anger; His chest was most likely rising and falling, his stare grim with malice. His fingers would be squeezed in fists unbeknownst to you, preparing for the worst of how he feels when he looks your betrayer in the eye.

It only fuels his anger when Taehyung lowers his head in shame, his own hands hiding in the back pockets of his jeans, hunching over like a kicked puppy.

But Jungkook felt no empathy for his friend, if he even was one to him at this point.

“Why the fuck would you do such an evil thing to her?” Each word Jungkook fires at Taehyung gets louder, more frightening. You flinch when he shouts at his friend. “Why, hyung?”

“I didn’t think it through,” He admits, “I didn’t think it was going to affect everyone so much, okay? I care about Y/N too, man.”

“You care about her?” Jungkook shakes his head, jabbing his finger into his chest. He takes a step back, knowing better than to let it irk him. He keeps his distance as Jungkook steps closer to him standing in the hallway before your apartment. “Fuck, Taehyung. I thought I was bad, but you’re something else.” He pushes at his chest, a little bit harsher, “You wanted my girl and this was the way you thought to go?”

“And yet, she still went running to you.” Taehyung nods, a humourless laugh leaving him. His defeated demeanour does nothing to shake Jungkook’s hatred from him in the moment. looking “Even when you made her feel small about the way she was making her money.”

“You watch your fucking mouth, Taehyung. I never did that, and you fucking know it. I’d never— I love her.” He’s in his face now, makes Taehyung turn his cheek to him. “So, what then? You thought you’d be the one to swoop in and save her from everyone? Is that it?”

Taehyung throws his head back, taking another step back as he runs a shaking hand through his dark locks.

“Huh?!” He pushes him one last time, and this time he does stumble, catching him off guard. He looks at Jungkook with apologetic eyes, but Jungkook’s expression doesn’t falter. His nostrils are flared, his entire being is tense and ready to fire. Taehyung doesn’t want to fight; his sight flickers up over Jungkook’s shoulder to see you peaking your head through the door. Seeing you makes it difficult to get out a steady breath, let alone anything of value to say to his friend. The friend he’d lost, the same way he’d lost you.

You don’t let him look for too long, you disappear behind the door again, pushing it slightly but keeping it ajar for Jungkook’s return.

“I don’t even want to look at you anymore, just fuck off. Don’t come back here, yeah?” Jungkook scoffs, but his voice is eased as if the words are easy to say, but they manage to hit Taehyung tough in his chest. He turns on his heel with his head low, ridding his presence from your lives.

Jungkook watches, waits. Taehyung taps once at the elevator button, turning his head to look over his shoulder as the it dings “Kook?”

Jungkook furrows his brow, fists balled at his sides. He eyes him harshly as he steps through the opened doors of the elevator, turning to face him with his hands in his pockets once again.

“I could have loved her, too.”

Before he can even think about what he said, he’s gone.

One of his dearest friends, all throughout his high school years, into some of his college ones— all the good and bad times alike ripped from his hands in an instant. He shouldn’t feel so hurt, not when he knows Taehyung was never truly a good person, but he doesn’t want to think about what it made him to have known that. He had a heart, that much was certain, but he was only ever meaningful to the people he cared deeply for. Keeping something like this from Jungkook felt unforgiveable, and wanting the girl that he knew damn well he loved, well, that was fucked up— but not as fucked up as what he had done to you.

And to think all he had to say to Jungkook was that he could love you too.

It was pathetic, and a testament to how selfish he truly was.

That didn’t mean he didn’t feel any less wounded by the end of their friendship. All he can think about as he turns back to re-enter his home is if this was a similar feeling you felt when your friends judged you instead of nurtured you. Did he do a good enough job of protecting you, making it certain that he cared for you more than any stupid job, or picture, provocative or not.

Jungkook doesn’t relax until he sees you curled up on the couch, chin resting on your forearm, legs splayed out comfortably as you wait for him to come back inside. You only perk up slightly upon seeing when you catch sight of him, watching him cautiously as he locks the door behind him.

Your eyes follow him as he drags his feet toward you, plummeting back into the couch with a puff.

“Are you alright?” you ask, shuffling over to rest beside him, soothing your hand over his bounching leg. He rubs his face with his hands and scoffs, then groans.

“You know he was the reason that we met?” Jungkook says, and you tilt your head at the information. “Fucker showed me your ad on the website, said it might be a good fit.”

You pull your eyebrows close together, trying to piece what he’s telling you together. Jungkook never mentioned this before. “I didn’t think it was that important, or coincidental.”

For some reason, your throat tightens. There’s something accusatory behind his words, and it muddles with your mind. Yet, when you start to mentally prepare yourself for an interrogation, it doesn’t come. He takes your hand that rests on his thigh, bring it to his lips for a kiss. He inhales sharply, flashing you a quick smile before he stands up.

“I’ll call Yuri tomorrow; I’ll settle everything with her.”

You nod up at him, speechless as he leans back down to kiss your temple one last time. “I love you, dove.”

FOUR YEARS LATER—

“Excuse me? Sorry. You’ve forgotten the Iced Americano for my order; it’s for my fiancé.” You beam politely at the server, who doesn’t look the slightest bit amused with what you have to say.

“Sorry about that.” He deadpans, turning his back to you as he – at least you think – makes that Iced Americano for you. You don’t let it ruin your day, so your smile lingers on your lips as you tap you rock heel-to-toe, clasping your hands in front of you as you inhale comfortably.

You feel content.

Today was a good day, and here was why: you’d been promoted, and the both of you were moving to Seoul to start your new life together. The melancholy you felt to leave your home town and the home that brought the two of you together in the first place didn’t last too long; ever since you landed your first job since graduating, you’ve been working tirelessly and left little to no time to make any new lasting friendships after the fall out you had all those years ago. The tears you shed when you revealed the news to Jimin were second-hand because he had unexpectedly burst into hysterics at the news. He shook Jungkook violently and begged him not to go, that he was one of the company’s best, and fastest, workers and that they would fall apart without him.

When you had told Jungkook the news, he took it as a sign to finally pursue his dreams— he had never wanted to be stuck in that office for the rest of his life anyway, and what better time for a new beginning than this?

Needless to say, there wasn’t anything that the universe could throw at you that was going to wipe the smile off your face. You bow at a 90-degree angle when the barista slides you the americano and a cardboard drink holder, popping your iced latte into the spot right next to where you put Jungkook’s drink. You lift it close to your chest and thank him with a chirpy tone, but he only nods curtly and turns his back to you again. Oh, but you can’t stop the way your lip curls upwards in a silent snarl, burning sockets into the back of his skull with imaginary laser beams.

Nothing was going to shake this terribly great mood you’re in!

You’re too busy cursing under your breath to look ahead and brace yourself for a customer walking toward the door. You stop in your tracks when the bell of the café door rings to alert the worker of another customer. You look up, about to apologise to the person but instead your fingers falter and you nearly drop the coffee you had worked extra hard to wait for.

Your patience was really testing you today, you think. God forbid you had one good day without something annoying, or absolutely terrible happening in between.

You have half a mind to ignore him, push right past him and pretend that you don’t know the person you’re looking up at; even though he’s staring right at you, as if he walked in here because he knew that it was you. Still, something about seeing him makes your curious eyes linger, and you blink at him as he lifts a hand, pressing his lips together tightly. Like he knows he’s really testing his luck here, and he is lucky in some regard— lucky that Jungkook isn’t here to see him.

Taehyung looks different. He’s ditched the leather jacket, and the patterned button ups he wore with the chest dangerously low and undone. Now he’s sporting loose pants and neutral colours. His hair is neat, shorter, and small pieces of his cut fall over his forehead. He brushes those loose parts back with his fingers, but it does nothing to tame them.

“Hi.” He says eventually. It feels like you’ve been frozen in your spot for hours with how tense everything suddenly felt.

You clear your throat, somehow hugging your coffees even closer to your chest. “Hello, Taehyung.” You nod politely.

“How are you? You look well.” Even the way he talks seems different, like he’s allowing himself to be someone who cares about what others thought of him, because the fact had always been true. He had worn a guise, similarly to yourself, to save himself from the harshness of reality.

You nod some more, not really sure what to say.

Hey, you ruined my life, cost me some friendships and could have seriously hurt any chances I had at a career, and it’s absolutely fantastic that I’m seeing you here right now!

“Things are well.” You settle for the simple answer instead. You can’t help but wonder if this was one of those tests of your morality.

Taehyung nods, humming as if he’s pleased to hear that. He lets his eyes rake the image of you before him, and you shift uncomfortably as he inspects you. His land gaze lands on your left hand’s ring finger.

The ring is unique, not any typical rock. It enwraps the expanse of your finger like vine, small, light pink gems adorn the white gold jewellery like little flowers.

He nods towards your hand. “That’s a pretty ring.” He says.

Despite the strangeness of it all, it makes you smile. “It is, isn’t it?” You hold your hand out in front of you to admire it like you don’t already do that at least ten times a day. You swoon internally, thinking back to the moment he got down on one knee, that sparkling boba pearls beaming up at you nervously.

“You’re engaged?” He asks, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

“For six months now, yeah.” You grin from ear-to-ear, unable to contain the joy those words make you feel.

Taehyung’s eyes widen, but only for a second, his hands glide behind his hips to find his back pockets to rest them in. A nervous habit.

“I’ve never been happier.” You admit.

It does feel like a blow to the stomach. He doesn’t even think it hurt him this much when Jungkook punched him in the jaw. He deserved it though. He knows that now; deep down he knew it then, too. That he couldn’t come back from what he’d done. “Congratulations.”

His only choice then was to move on, to change. And he’s been trying.

A part of him thought you might be glad to see the changes in him, or to even see him at all. An old friend, one that you didn’t even care to recall. A friend that held your arm over his shoulder when he got black-out drunk, sitting you down somewhere safe and quiet and giving you water to help soothe that throbbing inside your head. Let you whine about how much of a failure you felt like, even if you didn’t remember it the next day.

You had never wanted to go to college, you had never been interested in studying, or academics in general. You had dreams, you wanted to travel the world, to see and create art through the lenses of experiences. It was too far-fetched to you, an impossible dream that was frowned upon by everyone you knew. That wasn’t a job, wasn’t a career that was going to support you through life.

It was so out of reach that you had only let yourself say it out loud when you weren’t going to remember you even admitted that to anyone. You hadn’t even bothered to learn the name of the boy who saved you so many times, who’d hauled you cabs to get home safely.

And when you were sober, you were either in bed sleeping or spending time with your other friends. He didn’t know how to approach you when you looked like your head was always pounding, the bags beneath your eyes telling of the hangovers you hadn’t yet cured.

You wanted those memories pushed so far away that you didn’t recall them. Now, the only parts you do are the ones of you dragging yourself out of bed, fighting with your parents about being a drunk and a screw up, and crying until your eyes had completely been sucked dry of moisture.

If you had known, you would’ve said something. You never even noticed the way he always looked at you, how he was always looking over his shoulder at you when you gathered together as friends, to see if you were okay.

You were okay.

You had gotten better.

That was all that mattered.

“Jungkook,” he shakes his thoughts away, “How’s he?”

“Happy.” Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, “He’s going back to school when we settle into our new place.”

“You’re moving?”

You lift the coffees in your hands, “Our last ever coffees from this place.” You laugh softly.

“That’s good, I’m really happy for you.” He smiles.

You don’t know what else to say.

Taehyung wants to say so many things.

He takes a step back toward the door. “Just wanted to see how you were doing, check if you were doing okay.”

With that, you nod, flashing him another polite smile. He returns one, a look in his eye you can’t quite decipher, as you watch him open the door, walk out and disappear from your line of sight.

You look down at your coffees, briefly thinking that you were glad they were cold and not hot, because they’d be cold by now if they were. You inhale deeply, let out a sigh like you’ve been holding your breath the entire time, desperate for a breath of air.

You leave out the door then, but before you can get very far a small envelope on the concrete catches your attention. You pick it up, wondering if Taehyung had dropped it, looking in both directions but he’s nowhere to be seen. You don’t have his number; you have no way to find him to return it, either. That was preferable, though.

Right?

Still, you pick it up, flipping it over to the front to see that your name is written there. It was a letter, addressed to you. You blink rapidly, look up in front of you again in confusion. Had he left it there on purpose? Had he meant to give it to you by hand but decided not to? You pull the wrinkled paper from its sleeve.

You tighten the old, crumpled paper in your fist. The breath you take to calm yourself is shaky, and your entire face feels like it’s stuck. You don’t even know how to process the words you’d just read.

You don’t know if you want to.

This damaged person that Taehyung claims to know doesn't exist anymore.

That girl was dead to you. Long gone.

Someone you don't want to remember.

It’s then that your phone rings, and you struggle a little to dig it out the pocket of your jacket staring at the contact image of your fiancé on the screen. You let it buzz a few times more before you answer, the piece of paper resting between your fingers.

“Baby,” he whines playfully through your device, “What’s the hold up? I wanna spend my lunch break with you, not with the moaning beluga with horrifically grown out roots.”

You can hear Jimin whine loudly in the background, and it makes you laugh, even though your eyes are stinging with tears. You suck in a breath and wipe at your cheeks. “I love you, Jungkook” You tell him.

Over the office Jungkook makes a confused sound, pulling the phone from his ear to look at the screen as if you’re able to see him. “I love you too?” He scoffs light-heartedly, shaking his head like you’re crazy, but he can’t deny it makes his heart swell all the same, and he smiles so big his cheeks start to hurt.

You tell him you’re just around the corner, and he insists on staying on the phone until he sees your face. You hold your phone with your shoulder, balling the piece of paper up in your fist before you toss it into a nearby bin. You tease him all the way there, bickering with Jimin who steals the phone away to scold you for stealing him away.

You find your feet moving a little faster, picking up your pace towards Jungkook's workplace building— towards your future.

taglist: @bhonbhon, @rikifever, @jungkookswifeeeeeee, @songbyeonkim @ttanniett, @jungkookswifeeeeeee, @songbyeonkim, @busanbby-jjk, @justsomoneliving, @supercoolchem, @jeeykey, @toosweetforyall, @nikkinikj, @prxdajeon, @whoa-jo, @kelsyx33, @bugbxte, @army7-013, @jmsrealgf, @elimelbe, @yunhoswrldddd, @gukkie7

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bisexual-horror-fan · 9 days ago

Text

"Going Offline." Erik Campbell X FEM!Reader.

Hellllllooooo! So, I know it has been legit a week since the last almost 10K Erik Campbell fic, but he is living in my head lately, so you get this delightful follow-up to Textual Relationship now! I already have ideas for a part three, Hell I have already started writing it, lord help me. I hope everyone loves this, I got a lot of nice comments and reblogs.

Seriously I am shocked by the influx of notes. I would be remiss to not mention the fact that the amazing, @28bohemianmoons, beta read this for me! The whole thing is so much better for it that it isn’t even funny, I am endlessly thankful, you have no idea the love poured into this by her, so let’s get into this!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 8.7K Erik Campbell X FEM!Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Casual Sex. Friend With Benefits Relationship. Cunnilingus. Cum Eating. Eating Pussy. Oral Sex. Vaginal Sex. Creampie. Restrained Reader. Dirty Talk. Multiple Orgasms. People Watching. Teasing. Banter. Blow Job. Throat Fucking. Messy Head. Vaginal Fingering. Piercing Play. Semi-Public Sex. Edging. Both Of You Are Down Bad But Trying To Keep It Casual.

—

You know how some people tend to over inflate themselves and their abilities? Like a prospective job applicant embellishing their resume to get a leg up on the competition. Or the frat boy boasting to his buddies about how many chicks he’s hooked up with over Spring Break. Or even the attractive stranger you’re sexting promising you a mind-blowing time in the sack, given the chance. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out all the ways these scenarios can break bad and end up disappointing, instead of what was promised.

Yet, somehow, against the odds, Erik is proving that he is, most definitely, a man of his word.

He had commented on the pictures and videos you shared over text, mentioning how good your cunt looked. He divulged, in the heat of the moment, that he wished he could taste you and make you squirm on the end of his tongue. It was hot, in theory, and it helped get you off beautifully that night. But in practice? It turns out he wasn’t all talk. He didn’t set the bar too high, and now you are in fact squirming thanks to his mouth between your thighs.

You truly had no idea how deeply this affinity for eating out was ingrained in him. Nor did you ever suspect Erik’s strong oral fixation. If only you knew that his love affair with eating out began from the first time his tongue slipped over soaked velvety skin, and he heard the gasp it drew. That the moment he felt the way thighs tensed around his head and tasted that unique flavour, was when he became totally addicted; Only then you might have had half a clue of how much he loved to do this. It is quickly becoming obvious that he has cultivated a wealth of knowledge to reach his current level of skill.

The most valuable and vital skills when it comes to being outstanding at eating out are as follows: One, adaptability, changing to fit the tastes of the individual, listening to how they respond and filling those needs as they arise. Two, consistency, it cannot be understated how important it is, after finding what works, to be able to maintain that for an extended period of time, as long as the receiver needs without faltering. Erik has both these skills down pat, burned into his brain, hardwired into his damn DNA it seems.

Normally, Erik would start with a little more build-up; taking time to strip your clothing away; kissing over your hip bones and inner thighs; just barely tracing his fingers where you wish his tongue was. He would be so featherlight and much too teasing to satisfy, until it gets to be almost too much, then fingers lift and lips take their place. Tonight’s scenario is different though, not as much preamble is required as this is far from an average encounter. It wouldn’t be the first time, but normally he eats someone out before he cums inside them, not after. A few quick, exploratory licks and then his tongue is focused on dealing with the mess he made before he really settles in to figure you out. He never really got the whole ‘being weirded out by your own cum’ thing. The taste of him mixed with you is better than it has any right to be, he swallows it back with ease and unfiltered delight.

With that taken care of, he treats you to a few light swipes on and over your clit, then slowly with each following lick he provides more pressure. You shift your hips slightly, a hum slipping out as his tongue passes over and then back down, again and again. Your fingers tangle in his hair and tug, nudging him just a little closer. His mouth lifts, a wet sort of laugh escaping as he speaks, “You okay up there?”

“Just, fuck, feels good-” You mutter and as you do, he suddenly licks again, much harder causing your sentence to break off as you exclaim, “-God!”, he laughs again, louder, his head tips forward, so his forehead rests on your lower stomach. You want to pout, desperate for him to continue, “C’mon Erik, please-” You pull his hair so he lifts his head, his lips are wet, blue eyes half lidded, there you find playfulness lurking, he coos condescendingly, “I know, I know, I’m being too mean, right?”

“Yeah-” He drops back down, mouth latches back onto you, his lips wrap around your clit, he sucks noisily, messily. His tongue flicks over the nerve dense tissue he has trapped on all sides, the sheer slick heat of his mouth is indescribably good and makes your head fall back with a moan, “-ahhhh-”

There is no more teasing or pausing, just careful and purposeful moves of his mouth to bring you devastating pleasure in short order.

This whole ordeal is enough to make your head spin to think about, let alone allow yourself to admire the irresistible visual you have right now.

Erik on his knees on your plush rug, hands cradling your hips, and fingers digging into your soft flesh, his lips latched on your clit, sucking with perfect pressure. His eyes closed in concentration as he focuses on making up for cumming early, doing his damndest to ensure your pleasure. You are flat on your back, ass near the edge of the bed, legs over his shoulders, fingers in his hair and breathing his name on an exhalation. Currently trying your best to hang on as sensation threatens to eat you alive.

God, you needed this so badly; Much more than you previously realized. There is nothing quite like being able to lay back and have someone else see to your enjoyment; To completely give yourself over and do nothing but feel. The last time you experienced this kind of pleasure that wasn’t by your own hand escapes you. In fact, all thought does, your mind only capable of registering how he is making you feel; All coherent thoughts and attempts at intelligible speech long forgotten. Any potential to ruin the moment by overthinking how you smell, taste, or look, gone. Even how long you take to reach your end is impossible, self sabotage is not a factor here.

He kisses, licks, sucks, you pulse, leak and ache, body tense. The feeling builds, and your breathing is a wreck, shuddering on every inhale and barely restraining sobs on the exhales. He has worked you up fantastically, and soon you are getting so close. You can’t get your mouth to work well enough to alert him properly, but something tells you that your trembling thighs on either side of his head let him know what’s about to happen. Your pleasure plateaus for a blissfully tortuous minute, just on the edge of oblivion but not quite there, it is just the right side of being almost too much until it all catches up with you, clicks into place and you cum.

Your hand tugs on his hair again, keeping him as close as possible as you ride out your peak, you pulse against his tongue in time with the rhythmic contractions and the radiating waves of ecstasy that accompany them. Soon your orgasm finds its natural end, your body slackens, relief and relaxation setting in, going boneless against the mattress for a moment. Simply basking in the feeling, until Erik doesn’t relent. He continues to work, lick and suck, his tongue delves into you again, and you tense up once more, overstimulation setting in. You tug on his hair rather uselessly, a hard swallow, and you find your voice again, “Shi-shit, fuck, I-I’m done, please-”

You pull harder on his hair, but he remains locked down there, his hands gripping your hips tightly enough to keep his place, you beg a little more, “Erik, oh God, s’too much-”

Trying to pry him off isn’t working, the only option you have to escape is up the bed, this is a challenge with how your legs are hooked over his shoulders. Your hand releases his hair and falls, gripping the sheets instead, you try to push yourself backwards up the bed. He doesn’t let you go that easily, he follows, it’s easy for him with the points of contact he has maintained so with your last hope, you moan weakly, “Please, please, stop!”

Thankfully he only indulges himself for another second before his head lifts, a laugh spilling out, and he licks his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“You are the worst.” You roll your eyes fondly, struggling to catch your breath. He finally takes your legs off his shoulders and gets up to fully join you as you stretch out back on the bed. Erik says, “Yeah, I’d say we are a pretty even match.”

“I didn’t overstimulate you like that!” You argue, and he agrees, “No you didn’t, you just made me bust embarrassingly fast.” Erik then adds on, “Besides, soon as you said stop, I did.”

Fuck, he did, if you had just actually told him to stop sooner you could have saved yourself there a bit, so much for accusations of not playing fair. Conceding, you say, “Alright, alright, the score has been settled.”

“Mmm, not quite yet.” He hums, you raise an eyebrow, and before you can properly ask what he means, he has his hands on you again, starting to reposition you as he says, “I’m hard again, so how about round two?”

He is full of great ideas.

One of which leads to your current position; Face down, one cheek to the sheets, and your ass up. One of his hands is resting on the back of your neck, while the other is gripping one of your wrists, pinning it to your lower back. He is balls deep, and currently destroying you.

When you are in control, it makes it a lot easier to take, you know what to expect. You are the one moving, shifting the angle, and can anticipate the sensations that will follow, but like this, pinned and made to take it? It heightens everything, ramps it up significantly, makes you moan louder, feel everything more intensely. It doesn’t help that he got a lock on your G-spot in record time, he got inside of you, slipped in and out a few times. Once he had coated himself in your ample wetness and then started fucking with the angle. He adjusted till he heard that choked off gasp and felt how your walls tightened in response that told him just where it was. Now he was being relentless, hitting it over and over again, you are moaning brokenly in such a delightfully debauched way. A breathless laugh rings out above you, followed by a question, “You alright?”

You force the answer out, a low and embarrassingly wobbly, “Yessss-”

“Yeah, fuck, you sound pretty good right now.” You can hear the smile on his face and the praise sinks into your bones, warm and pleasant, fingers curl into the sheets, eyes squeezing shut as you hold on.

He doesn’t let up until you manage to cum again, hands free this time. In short order, satisfied now that your pleasure has been ensured, he pumps another load into you with a long groan, causing you to shiver.

Once he pulls out, your body sinks down to the mattress, you lay there on your stomach, cum leaking out and panting. You have thoroughly been taken down a peg, he can more than hold his own, he can ruin you if he decides it so. Erik falls onto his back beside you, trying to catch his own breath.

It is quiet, it reminds you of another shared moment between you both, laying and breathing together, back then the only form of connection was the phone call. Now he is here, you can reach out and touch him if you want. It’s still kind of mind-blowing it all worked out this way. You are the first one to speak up, “Is it just me or was this-”

“Amazing?” He fills in the blank, sounding a mixture of equally baffled but happy about it, and you laugh, pushing yourself onto your side you say, “Yeah! Like for a first time hooking up? Pretty unbelievable.”

“To be fair, the whole thing we’ve had going on has been pretty fucking unbelievable.” He points out as he rolls to face you better, cheek resting on his hand, and you have to agree. It is quiet again for a moment, before you push yourself up to a sitting position and ask, “I could do with a snack, are you hungry?”

“After all that, it would be weird to not be.” He responds.

You reach for the box of tissues to deal with some of the excess mess before you throw them away and get up. Making the way to where you have your robe hung on one of the series of hooks on the back of your bedroom door. You select your usual one and slip it on and turn back to the bed to ask as you tie the belt, “You want something to wear?”

“Well, it’d be nice, otherwise I’ll be walking around your place dick out.” He quips, and you say, “I wouldn’t complain about the view.”

Tragically, he does put his own underwear back on, and you come back to him, another robe in your grip, and you hold it out. He takes it and lifts it to get a better look, taking in the black silk robe with the lace edged bell style sleeves. Erik lowers it and looks up at your face, asking in a tone that makes you want to bust out laughing,“Really?”

“What? I ordered it a while back, and they sent the wrong size. It swims on me so it’ll totally fit you.” You say with a wide smile before saying next, “Besides, it’s in your favourite colour.”

“You spoil me so.” He sighs as he gets up and slips it on, he ties the belt around his waist and finds that yeah it fits alright, however it hits high above mid-thigh. He holds the edges, swishing the satiny fabric and sleeves back and forth comically, “Pretty short, lucky for you that I am so secure in my masculinity.”

You laugh lightly, before you said, “Lucky me indeed, you’ve got great legs, Show em off!”

Soon, snacks were retrieved from the kitchen and brought back, you sit up in bed, sharing a bag of plain chips and a carton of chocolate fudge banana split ice cream between you both.

“I gotta say, you really showed me, I was a total mess there when you were on top.” You praise him around your bite of ice cream, and he shrugs, brows creased as he said, “I had to defend my honour.”

“Consider it defended. You seemed to enjoy it when I was the one riding you, though.” You start, and he says, “Of course I did, just because I love taking it doesn’t mean I can’t give it and love that shit too.”

“Same here.” You say easily, Erik laughs, head dropping for a moment, his hand runs through his hair, before he asks, “Did we really luck out that hard? Both of us are switches?”

“Seems like but at this point? I think just about anything is possible if we are together.”

“I think you are onto something.” Erik muses.

The conversation hits a comfortable lull. You take a second to look at him, in the soft light of your bedroom, so close your knees touch, wrapped up in your robe. The sleeves are too short and slip down his forearms, bunching near his elbows, his scattered tattoos partly exposed. This is one of those moments that even when the visual fades, the feeling will stay, you will recall tonight and remember how this felt. You choose to revel in how comfortable this feels.

After a minute more of snacking, you ask, “So you still want to sleep over?” Erik nods, pulling the spoon out of his mouth, “For sure, been a while since I’ve done one.”

“Oh yeah, fucking randos in bar bathrooms is more your style, isn’t it? Should I be honoured you actually came back to my place?” You ask as you pluck a chip from the bag, he is scooping out another spoonful as he says with that cocky air, “Yes, you really should be.”

“And what if I wanna keep this going?” You smile but are asking it half seriously, hopeful this won’t be a one time thing, he says, “Oh careful what you wish for, if I hang around too long you might get sick of me.”

He offers out the carton as the spoon is put into his mouth, you reach out to take it, your fingers brushing his briefly. You say sincerely, “I think I would love the opportunity to get sick of you.”

You both make eye contact, and you swear you saw a softness bloom on his face for a second before he’s reaching into the chip bag again. With his playfulness back in place, he quips, “Alright, your funeral.”

You let out a laugh, playing along, “I won’t say you didn’t warn me, okay?”

After a lot more casual conversation and finishing your snacking session, a quick evening clean up happens. You settle down for the night, you loan him a phone charger, and soon you are passing out with Erik beside you pretty quickly. You sleep in later than normal, you have the day off. Assuming he has nowhere in particular to be, when you both are properly awake, you say, “I need to go grocery shopping later, so I don’t have much here, but you wanna go out for breakfast?”

Erik rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he tells you, “Oh fuck yes, please.”

He slips back into last night’s shirt and pants, you get dressed, and then you strike out. Leading him to a nearby diner you loved, turned out he was a fan too, it is seriously so strange you’ve never run into him before.

You are seated quickly, coffee cups are filled before you start looking over the menu. You watch as he adds sugar but no cream into his mug, filing away the little observation. Then you ask, “So I am curious, what kind of breakfast do you go in for?”

“Depends on the mood and the previous night’s activities.” He shrugs as he flips the page. You press, “And what do last night’s activities call for?”

He hums in consideration before closing the menu with a satisfying clack. He announces, “Salty and sweet, chocolate chip pancakes and bacon.”

“Your history of amazing taste continues.” You nod and he says, “Naturally.” Then he asks, “You?”

“I think I need something classic, hearty, with serious protein. A mainstay; eggs, sausage, toast and hash with fruit on the side.” You close your own menu, and he lets out a low whistle, “You know what you want, and I respect that.”

He holds his mug out, a raise of his brows as he says, “To a great first hook up, offline.”

A smile takes over your face as you pick up your own coffee and gently clink yours against his, “Hear, hear.”

You both take a sip, and you set down your mug, asking, “So you said ‘first’ hook up offline. Does that mean you want to do this again?”

“I do, and I think you do too.” He asserts casually, and you joke, “Did my extremely shaky legs give me away last night?” You wouldn’t be surprised if they did, you didn’t stop fully trembling until about ten minutes post fuck.

He snickers, elbow resting on the table-top and holding his hand out in a ‘trying to squish a fly’ gesture. His pointer finger and thumb almost touch as he answers, “Just a little bit.”

“Okay, so you are right, I do want to repeat this-” You admit, but he cuts you off, “No shit.” You ignore him and continue, “Anyway! The way I look at it is like this, I think we are both the kind of people that greatly prioritize having fun. Would you say that’s accurate?”

“Absolutely.” He agrees, and you say, “Good, I would too. So how about we do this as long as it remains fun? Deal?”

“Deal.” He stretches his hand out, and you take it, firmly shaking on it. And so, it has been decided that as long as it remains fun and makes sense, you are going to keep meeting up for casual sex.

The waitress stops by, you place your orders, and then she leaves you two alone again, well, almost alone. There are four people at the table across the aisle from you, and they were being rather loud and increasingly obnoxious.

They are all talking about how terrible their food is. When the waitress comes by again they proceed to complain to her, one of them bitching about how burnt their grilled cheese apparently was, and how unimpressed they were with everything overall. You had both eaten here plenty of times, so there was no way it was as bad as they were making it out to be. Your table was too close to theirs to talk about how insane they were being, but thankfully that is what phones are for. Barely holding in your laughs, you and Erik text about them while you wait for your food.

“Oh my fucking God, are you hearing all this?” Erik asked, and you typed out quickly, “Can’t hear my own thoughts with how loud they are being, but see that one in the cardigan? She was eating her pancakes with her hands.”

Erik looked up from his phone, giving you a look that translated to, “Really?”

Holding in a laugh, you nodded and typed out, “I swear, she is ripping off pieces and dragging it through the syrup on her plate.”

His next text pops up to read, “And she has the audacity to complain that they are subpar? What a monster.”

Eventually they leave and as soon as the door closes you both let loose, you start with an impassioned, “Oh my fucking Goddd-”

Erik following up with an impression, arms crossed as he intones, “This is so disappointing, we used to know the owners you know, and this is just so awful, I don’t think we will be coming back-”

“Good, don’t fucking come back! I never understand when people throw that out as a threat.” You reply, and he agrees, “Right? When someone annoying drops that on me, all I want to do is ask ‘Promise?’, like fuck off.”

You both break down into a fit of laughter. You are glad that when the situation calls for blowing off some steam, you and Erik can be a little petty without judgment. While discussing how sticky it would be to eat pancakes with just your hands, your food is brought out. You both devour your breakfasts, and it’s as delicious as you expected. When all the plates are cleared away, you split the bill down the middle.

You both head out onto the street, he is carrying his jacket and pocketing his wallet, you zip your bag closed and say, “What are you doing now?”

“Going to head home. Since I have fucking work later might as well shower, get into clean clothes, yada yada. You?” He asked, and you said, “I have the day off, so just groceries, maybe some cleaning, but the rest of my day is wide open.”

“Jealous.” He sighs.

The pair of you are wondering the same thing. How should your good-bye’s go now that you are friends with benefits? Taking the initiative, you open your arms and invite him in for a hug. He steps in, talking you up on it, and leans down to wrap his arms around you. You return the action, giving him a firm squeeze. It is a nice moment. Until you ruin it, leaning into his ear and whispering, “Text me whenever you need a hole to cum in, alright?”

He laughs and pulls back with a playful shove of your shoulder, he fires back, “Yeah and if you need a living dildo to fuck, I’m your guy.”

You start to walk off, a wave over your shoulder as you call, “Don’t work too hard, music man.”

“I never do. Bye.” He calls in return as he heads off in the other direction.

The rest of your day is uneventful, but good because frankly you are in an amazing mood.

So Erik as becomes a bigger part of your life, texting becomes a bit more frequent, at times you still engage in your old dynamic; pictures passed back and forth, dirty or otherwise, but why do that when the band aid has been ripped off? Meeting up is just so easy. Much more often than not, if you are in the mood, you carve out a space in your schedules to meet up and find that infinitely more fulfilling. After this new arrangement is established, your next meeting goes like this.

It has been about a week and a half since the last time you saw him in person. When you do hear from him, you are just getting home after a night out with a friend grabbing dinner and a movie straight after work. You feel your phone buzz in your bag as you are about to hang it up. You take it out to see a text from Erik, you swipe it open to see, “Oh my fucking Godddd!” Another comes in immediately after, “Fuck this day!”, and lastly, “I am going to fucking lose it!”

“Oh no.” You mutter to yourself, fully aware that a triple text of this nature isn’t good. You start to type a response as you take your shoes off, “What’s up? Talk to me.”

His new text comes in, reading out, “You home?” You text back quickly, “Just got in.”

Your phone starts ringing, you swipe again to accept the call, bringing the phone up to your ear, you say, “Erik? I’m here.”

“Kill me please.” He says firmly, and you bark out a surprised laugh from the sheer drama of hearing a phrase like that straight off the bat. You respond to him as you walk down the hall and into the kitchen, “Yeah, hello to you too.”

“Hi. I reiterate, please, fucking kill me.” He says more urgently, and you laugh again as you sit on a barstool at the kitchen island, “Okay, okay, I promise, I’ll kill you, after you tell me what’s wrong in the first place.”

He then begins to recount the source of today’s misery, “I had that big appointment I told you about today, the guy who was dropping over a thousand dollars on the snake thing. I sent you the finished sketch the other day.”

You hum in acknowledgment, knowing just what he was talking about. He was pretty jazzed about this one. The sketch was phenomenal, he poured a lot into it, and that amount of money for a single tattoo is nothing to sneeze at either. “Course, how could I forget?”

“Well, for some reason my alarm didn’t wake me up this afternoon, so I woke up late and had to fucking run to get to the shop-” Yeesh, you wince slightly and continue to listen to him.

“-I make it on time and start prepping and shit, whatever. Then this guy messages me like ‘Heyyy sorry, can we push back an hour?’ and that was kind of annoying, since I’d rushed over to the shop in this heat. However, I could stop rushing around right then, so I was like ‘Yeah it’s fine.’”

“Alright.” You say quietly, following along, and he presses on, “Cuz what else am I gonna say? Obviously, I don’t want to miss out on that amount of money, so I take my time, finish prepping some stuff. I get the stencil ready, even have a chance to run out to get a drink and a sandwich. Everything is ready to go, but THEN-”

You bite your bottom lip to restrain another laugh, and he continues recounting his story, “-he asks for another two hours! I was like ‘Okayyyy, are you sure you can do this today?’ And he says ‘Totally, I’ll be there.’ So I have two walk-ins for piercings and that’s fine, then I kill time working on some other sketches.Then he texts me again and guess what it fucking says?”

You can see where this is going, you say, “He cancels on you?”, at the exact same moment that he says, “He cancels on me!”

“Fucking unbelievable.” You sigh and he says, “It is! I had most of my shift blocked off for this guy, so now I can either hang around and hope for walk-ins or bail out. The whole day is basically a wash.”

“Did he reschedule?” You ask, and he laughs bitterly, “Yeah, he did. Next fucking week.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Even though the way he complains is funny, the situation he found himself in was not, and you genuinely feel bad for him. “So, are you going to hang around or what?”

“No, I don’t think so, I am not the only one here anyway. I stepped out to call you-” Another sigh, and you can picture him rubbing over his eyes and his hand slipping up into his hair. You swear you can feel his frustration over the line.

“There are some other people here now that will get first dibs on walk-ins, they came in because I was supposed to be busy.” He finishes.

You see an opportunity, a chance for you to help, you pose a question, “Well, how about you come over? We could get a pizza, maybe fuck it out if you are up for it?”

He pauses for a moment before asking, “Oh my God, are you serious?”

You reach over to pluck a grape from your fruit bowl, rolling it in between your fingers as you respond, “Yeah! Let me salvage your night.”

He confesses honestly, “Yes, please, I think I really do fucking need that.”

“Of course, come on over.” You encourage, and he says, “I’ll be there within the hour. I gotta take my station apart and clean up before I leave.”

“Take as long as you need, see you soon.” You trade good-bye’s, and hang up. Popping the grape into your mouth, you get off the stool and make your way to the bathroom, intent on showering before he comes over.

True to his word, he arrives within the hour, you open the door and there he is, looking pretty beat.You feel bad as you let him in, even more determined to try and cheer him up. You lead him to the living room and once he is seated on your couch in the living room, you tell him, “Wait right there.”

“I don’t think I could do much else.” He sighs, hands slipping behind his head as he leans back into the cushions.You walk away to head into the kitchen, and when you come back you are holding two bottles of beer. His brows raise, and you offer, “Want a beer?”

“Oh yes, definitely.” One of his hands comes from behind his head and reaches out for it. Slipping the bottle into his waiting hand, you take the seat beside him on the couch. He takes a sip and almost moans as he pulls the bottle back, “Hice Pale Ale?”

“It’s my favourite. I am not huge on beer, but having a few of these on hand in the fridge to crack open after a long day is a must.” You say with a shrug as you pull your phone out of your pocket, he praises, “And you go on about my good taste.”

“Only because it’s true. So, what kind of pizza do you want? Once I have the order in, you can bitch about your day some more.”

You decide on two wood fire pizzas from that nice pizzeria downtown; one classic pepperoni, the other margherita and phoned in the order. More venting ensues, and before you know it, you’re both one beer down and onto your second. The food arrives partway through the movie you put on. The pizza boxes are opened on your coffee table, you both just eat out of them, not bothering with plates. It tastes pretty amazing. You glance over as he gestures to the screen commenting on something, and actually smiling. You are glad to see his mood has lifted considerably.

By the time the credits are rolling, you are in his lap, some mid-2000s song you’ve heard countless times but couldn’t name playing in the background. The make out you are engaged in is getting rather heated, you have one hand on the back of his neck, the other buried in his hair. His hands are settled on your hips, his fingertips starting to edge up underneath the hem of your tank top. Your tongue slips out of his mouth for a moment as you nip at his bottom lip, before pulling back, and asking quietly, “How are you feeling? Better?”

“Better than I was.” He admits with a half smile that could make you melt if you let yourself get too caught up. Pushing that thought away, you grind yourself down, feeling how hard he is under you, “Yeah? Because I was thinking of one other thing I could do to help cheer you up.”

He responds by arching his own hips up to meet yours before prompting, “I’m listening.”

“I was just thinking about how tragic it is that I never got to suck your dick last time, how about we fix that?”

One minute later you are on your knees between his spread legs, your hair out of the way with him hot and hard in the palm of your hand.

You’ve been wanting to do this since the very first picture he sent you. No, dying to. So you waste no time leaning closer to make first contact with your tongue. Your eyes are turned up to his face, determined to catch every little reaction. When you pass over his piercing you feel him tense slightly, noticing the shift in his eyes and the sharp intake of breath. Oh, this is going to be so much fun. Your lips lock around the head of his cock, and your tongue lathes over it slowly while it’s in your mouth. You suck lightly and pull off of him with a wet pop, teeth hooking onto well polished metal, and tugging on it slightly.

A fond roll of his eyes as he huffs out, “Jesus, you love to play with that shit, don’t you?”

“Call it a kink. I didn’t hear you complaining last time.” You muse before you start to slip him back into your mouth. He breathes, “I’m an asshole, not an idiot.”

You’d laugh if your mouth wasn’t already occupied with more important matters. An amused exhale through your nose would have to do as you focus on sliding him deeper.

Now, sucking dick isn’t quite as complicated as eating pussy, other than utilizing an excess of spit, there are two very important factors that should not be forgotten. The first and most crucial is enthusiasm, the second is that every good blowjob should include more than just your mouth. You have hands, use them. The first time you get on your knees for someone is exciting, but usually you don’t have this much lead up. To say you are desperate to do this for him is a major understatement. You are utterly ravenous for it. In your opinion, the best head is sloppy, messy, and you enjoy it more than you have any real right to. The act of giving pleasure is one you partake in joyfully, so you never have to fake your enthusiasm.

You take him halfway down his shaft before bobbing back up, lips now wrapped around the defined ridge where head meets shaft, you suck slowly as you pull up the rest of the way. Then you let your lips part and allow the veritable river of split you’ve been building up in your mouth run down over your fingers. You start to stroke, spreading the lube and coating him in the process, and with that done you can really settle in. Mouth and hand work in tandem, you stroke and suck, taking him as deep as you can with your hand around the base before moving back up again.

You do this for around a minute before you decide to really try and wow him, you move your hand away, and take him to the base. As soon as you feel his tip touch the back of your throat, he moans in a way that makes you want to press your thighs together. Your gag reflex isn’t that much of a bother when you are motivated enough. You bob up and down a few more times, fucking the tight opening of your throat with the head of his dick. One of his hands grips the couch cushion beside him, and the other comes to the top of your head. He moans again, with an undercurrent of confusion, “What the fuck-”

You will never get tired of his reactions. Swallowing around him, letting him feel that simple action in full, you are rewarded with a choked gasp; A sound that will haunt your dreams for many nights to come. He pushes back on your head until he pops out of your mouth, strands of your spit following the motion and your eyes locking on his flushed face as the wet leash connecting you to him breaks apart. Erik utters a breathless accusation, “Youuu majorly undersold your skills.”

You cock your head and smile softly, a faux innocence in your tone as you ask, “Did I?”

Your hand comes back up, fingers circle around his base, you spit into your other palm, then reach out and grip him. Starting to stroke firmly, causing him to inhale harshly, “Yes, Christ, you fucking did.”

“Maybe.” You sigh, twist your wrist on the downstroke, and watch in amused interest as his upper lip twitches and his brow creases in response. You continue on to say, “I just think actions speak louder than words.”

Your thumb swipes over his tip, catching the stray bead of pre-cum there, “Why blab on and on when it is so much more fun to get on my knees and just show you what I can do?” Your hand lifts to your mouth, your tongue flicks over the pad of your thumb briefly before you ask, “Can I get back to blowing you now?”

He nods once, and you sink back down into it immediately, taking him back into your mouth in one smooth motion. Suddenly deep throating him again, he moans out, “Oh fuck-”

You don’t stop, alternating between fucking him into your throat and stroking his shaft with your lips wrapped around his head. You are relentless, eating up every reaction you draw from him, and filing it all away to masturbate to later in all honesty. Until a few minutes later, he is moaning your name as he cums into your mouth.

You wait until he stops pumping out cum and the twitching subsides, when he sighs in relief you pull back to see his eyes are on you. Perfect. While he is looking at you, your mouth opens, showing off the pool of cum coating your tongue; Then you make a show of closing your lips and when you swallow him back, you show him your now clean tongue.

The look on his face is priceless. You climb back onto the couch beside him as you ask, “Good?”

You knew it was, but you liked this aspect of your relationship, being kind of dickish to each other. Erik is a sarcastic kind of guy, very funny, and you like giving it back to him. You are positive he likes it too. He scoffs, “Yeah, of course it was good.”

“No jokes?” You inquire, and he laughs as he finishes putting himself away, “No, I don’t think I can pretend that was bad even for a joke, you nearly sucked the soul out of me.”

You sigh, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it next time.”

He hooks an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closer. You are reminded that he isn’t shy about his own cum when he initiates a kiss and his tongue slips into your mouth. Returning his affection with a moan is the most natural thing in the world, after all he is unfairly hot. He returns the favour, shows you that he is just as good with his hands as he is with his mouth. You end up cumming with two of his fingers buried inside you, grinding your clit against his palm, dizzy with pleasure.

Erik leaves in a much better mood that night, and you were glad to help him out. The boost to your own mood was just a bonus.

The next notable quality time you share is about two weeks later. It’s a hot day when you make the decision to drop in on him, since he mentioned that he was working. He was meant to be there to field walk-ins, so you decided to do the same. You’ve walked by this shop many times before you knew him; Had seen it in the many pictures and videos he sent you, too. But this is the first time you’ve actually been inside. You don’t arrive empty-handed though, you stride in with a smile and an iced coffee for him.

The bell rings to signal your arrival, he looks up as you take your sunglasses off and place them on top of your head. He has surprise in his eyes, paired with a grin as he questions, “The fuck are you doing here?”

You make your way over to him as you say, “I thought I’d be nice, bring you an iced coffee, help you cope with this hot ass day we are all suffering through.”

Now close enough you place the iced coffee on the counter he is seated at, he picks it up and says, “Oh, and here I didn’t get you anything.”

“I’m sure we’ll find a way to even the scales again.” You tease, leaning forward on your elbows. He leans nearer as he flirts back, “We always do.”

He takes his first sip, and he sighs out, “God, that’s good, thanks.” You shrug with an easy, “Don’t mention it.”

Erik asks, “Wanna sit behind the counter?”

You take him up on it, pulling over one of the cushioned stools on wheels. You sit down and ask, “What are you working on?”

“Trying to come up with my flash sheet to advertise, Friday the 13th is coming.” He sighs as he picks up his sketchbook and passes it over. You look over the half filled page as you say, “Oh yeah, cheap tattoo day, gotta be ready.”

Your eyes scan over the themed sketches, admiring his work. After a minute, you ask, “Would it be weird to get a tattoo from you sometime?”

He gives you a curious look, and he asks, “Why would it be weird? Because we fuck each other stupid like once a week?”

You reply easily, “Uh yeah that’d be why. But hey, if you don’t think it’d be weird then I’ll take your word for it.” He already leaves the occasional hickey, what’s a more permanent mark between friends. A thought pops into your head, leading you to inquire, “Wait, did you ever do that?”

“Do what?” He asked, and you responded, “Like tattoo a girlfriend or something before you broke up?”

“Noooo, I have avoided that so far.” He admits with a laugh, shaking his head. You joke, “Oooh, fresh ground, virgin territory.”

“Such a freak.” He hums amusedly, and you double down, “Erik, you have to understand, this is very exciting for me.”

“Adding corruption kink onto your ever-growing list, got it.” He holds his hand out to take his sketchbook back, you roll back on your wheeled stool, holding it out of reach, “I didn’t say I was done.”

“Look as much as you want.” Erik drops his hand, and you go back to look down at his sketches. Staring down with great interest, and that is when you uncross your legs and lean back a little.

He says your name and your eyes peek back over the edge of the book, “Yes?”

“Are you wearing anything under that sundress, orrr?” Erik asked, and you shook your head, confessing, “No I am not. Too hot, you know?”

“Too hot for panties?” He deadpans.

“I mean, it’s a black sundress, Erik! Yes, it is too hot for panties.” You defend, and he says, “No one made you wear black today.”

“Rich coming from the guy whose closet is ninety-five percent black.” You quip, foot reaching out to nudge his black jean clad leg, you add on, “Besides, I thought you’d like it.”

You spread your legs wider, his elbows come to rest on his knees, he leans forward. Watching his eyes drop significantly lower. He says, “I never said I didn’t like it.”

A bite your bottom lip before asking, “Well. Are you going to do something about it?”

He does in fact do something. You get dragged enthusiastically into the very bathroom he took that first video for you, the door locked behind you faster than you could say a word.

You are praying you can get this quickie done before anyone comes in, gripping the sink while his hands are on your body. The skirt of your sundress is bunched around your hips, and he is adjusting you, lifting one of your knees up onto the sink. Erik’s other hand is on your lower back, making sure he will be able to fuck you easily while he is standing behind you. Pressing himself against you, he slides easily as he grinds against you, and asks, “How are you this wet already?”

“Mighta edged myself in the bathroom of the coffee shop while they were making your order.” You admit, and he drags the tip of his dick up and down your slit, he spreads your wetness as he says, “I knew it, you planned this whole thing.”

How can you be expected to do anything but capitalize on his impulsive nature? He slides into you, and you moan out, “Caaah-’nt help it-”

He starts the pace out easy, sliding in and out of you slowly, and you revel in the stretch. You are content for this to be a quick and dirty fuck, and to see, secretly, if you could get home before all his cum runs down your thighs.

Erik has other plans. He starts to adjust, shifting the angle just right. Your head turns up, looking into the mirror and meeting his eyes. Your eyes quietly questioning what he is doing, wondering why he isn’t railing the fuck out of you already, but the only warning he gives you is, “Wait, wait, hold on-”

He fucks all the way in and strikes your G-spot so strongly, the stab of pleasure it delivers makes your back arch and punches the air out of your lungs. Your head barely misses hitting the mirror, “Oh fuck-”

“Therrrre it is!” He purrs. His hand that was on your lower back slides up, he grips the straps for leverage, and his other hand grips your hip firmly. You pant out, “You’re the wor-st, ha, you cocky fucking bastard-”

“Ready?” He asks in a sanguine way that blatantly ignores what you just said. Without waiting for your response, he sets a pretty brutal pace.

He doesn’t stop, and it’s your turn to cum embarrassingly quick. You can thank the ten minutes worth of edging you gave yourself prior to this. It makes the climb scary quick, and you are totally helpless as he abuses your weaknesses with glee. Worst of all, you have no one else to blame but yourself for being so sexually open with him.

You claw at the sink while he pounds your orgasm out of you in five short minutes, biting your tongue so hard you worry you might draw blood. Barely managing to whine out an approximation of his name. Your walls spasm around his shaft as you ride out your orgasm, shuddering and gasping. Even after it ends, you are incapable of controlling the aftershocks. You only have to bear the overstimulation for a few minutes before he rushes out, “Fuck, gonna cum-”

He forces himself deep as he can one last time, reaching his own end and spilling inside of you; Your name staining his tongue. Your forehead touches the cool glass of the mirror, and you heave out a breath that fogs it up, mind glazing over yet still registering the sweat sticking to your skin.

When he pulls out, a rush of cum spills forth as opposed to a slow drip. You are a wreck, heaving and mostly supported by the sink. He asks, “You okay there?”

You raise your head, eyes half lidded, and you moan out, “Soooo good.”

He seems thoroughly amused, eyes raking over your form as you endure the aftershocks, the occasional twitches endlessly entertaining for him.

“I’m gonna go make sure no one came in and heard you cum your brains out. Take a minute and clean yourself up, yeah?” He says far too breezily, he finishes securing his belt and unlocks the door. He leaves you there, cum staining your thighs and still reeling. Your mind drifts back to your previous conversation shared post-sex, the one revealing that you both were switches. Honestly, you do like rocking his shit, but there is something to be said for the times he flips it back and returns your ample efforts.

You do take the time to clean up and eventually you leave the bathroom to join him. He is sitting back behind the counter, pencil in one hand and iced coffee in the other. He looks far too normal, too put together. As if he didn’t just fuck you dumb in the bathroom. He is so attractive, it’s almost annoying.

Erik doesn’t look up as he says, “Don’t worry. No one came in, so no one heard you.”

You come back to the counter and say, “Thank God. I was trying to be quiet, but someone wasn’t making it easy on me.”

“Suuuure it’s all my fault that you couldn’t stop-” He starts mimicking your moans in an overexaggerated way, shifting in his chair and swaying back and forth in a jerky rhythm as if he were getting fucked. You laugh so hard you snort, hitting him on the shoulder, but he doesn’t relent. He only stops after you finally say, “Oh my fucking God, Erik!”

“Yeahhh-” He turns to look at you finally, “-you said that a few times too.” He says with a shit eating grin.

You don’t linger much longer after that, you have a short conversation about texting to meet up again soon. As you are leaving, he calls out, “By the way, thanks again for the coffee.”

“Anytime. Maybe you should swing by and visit me at work sometime.” You suggest, and you mean it. You slip your sunglasses back on as you leave.

#Erik Campbell x reader #Erik Campbell x you #BHF writing #Holy shit #My God #We did so much work on this #I hope you all love it #PLEASE #Comments and asks and replies about this one would be AMAZING

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oracle-of-dream · 5 months ago

Text

Climbing the Corporate Ladder

Summary: You've been struggling at the bottom of the food chain in your job for a while now. You need to get higher to get somewhere in life. You'd need some leverage on one of your superiors. With a friend's help, you'll get what you're looking for...

Notes: Male Reader, Business Enhypen, References to Vesselsoft (Enhypen lore), No smut for Ni-ki, Swearing, Dubious consent

Monday, July 5th, 8:45 AM

In the break room, you sat alone. The sound of the expensive coffee machine whirred in the background. It's been over a year since you started working at Vesselsoft Production Company. You've been a customer service intern since you started and every time you'd spoken to one of your superiors about a promotion they blew you off.

"Oh, we're not looking to promote anyone right now."

"Promotions might come soon, I'll watch for your file."

"I'm sure it'll come anytime soon. It's just gotta pass through the right channels. Be patient."

You'd heard it all at this point. It was fucking irritating.

You sighed into your mug of hot chocolate. The taste of rich coffee never settled on your tongue right. Sometimes you'd drink coffee to stay awake during meetings–but if you had to drink it you would put in so much milk and sugar it was basically chocolate ice cream.

Your silence was interrupted by the door opening; Ni-ki entered the room. He started a year before you did, convinced you to apply for the company, and even recommended you. You were in the customer service department before he was promoted to Engineer. He advanced quickly and became a Senior Engineer before his second year ended.

"Y/n, good morning," His morning voice vibrated in his throat. Ni-ki wasn't much of a morning person, but with his position, he didn't need to come in so early anymore.

"Oh, good morning, Ni-ki. What are you doing here so early?"

The tall man walked to the coffee machine and pressed a few buttons. "You didn't hear? There's supposed to be employee reviews in a few hours." The coffee machine hummed as it produced his drink. "This could be your chance to get promoted."

You rolled your eyes, trying not to get too excited. "I've gotten my hopes up too many times already. I'll never get promoted at this rate." You sank into your chair.

Ni-ki sat in a nearby chair. "Don't be like that. You just need to get management to notice you. And customer service has the most people in its department, so you need to do something big."

"How do I do something big in customer service?"

Ni-ki shrugged. "I don't know. Come up with some huge ideas to improve?"

You shook your head. "There's no time for that... Maybe a soft bribe–like buying them a cake?"

Ni-ki scoffed. "You'll never get away with that one. The board has some of the heads of the company, even if you manage to bribe one the others might not take it."

"Which departments?"

He took a sip of coffee while he thought. "Marketing, Facilities, International Development, and Programming. I think the CFO is also coming to town."

Your eyes bulged at the last one. "The fucking CFO is here!?"

You knew the CFO to be a pretty particular guy. Heeseung, the CFO, gave your interview personally when you joined the company. He exuded a presence that was like no other. It was clear he had a preference for pretty guys in his departments. Almost all the staff were at least decent-looking, but the department leads were all gorgeous. With Heeseung at the top, of course.

You slumped over, accepting your misery. "I'm fucking cooked, Ni-ki. There's no way I'll get the executives to promote me, much less notice me."

Ni-ki chuckled as he slapped you on the back. "Well, there's nothing more I can do." He chuckled a little harder.

"What the fuck is so funny?"

Between laughs, Ni-ki breathed out. "This sounds like the start of one of those sucky romance movies. You end up fucking one of your bosses, and then you have to cover it up."

You punched him for the lack of support. "I–" You stopped before you could scold him. "...Now hear me out."

Ni-ki stopped laughing. "Wait, I was joking. That's a horrible idea."

"If I get caught."

"Who would you even go for? None of those people even know you like that."

"Not true! The Customer Service department has weekly meetings with the Marketing department. I've met their manager a few times."

"Sunoo? And how will you sleep with him in a few hours."

You scrambled to think of something while swiping through your phone and clicked on a few promising links before stopping on one. "I can go to a pharmacy and get this!" You showed your phone to him.

"Sexual stimulants? You're going to drug an executive?"

"Don't say it like that! If I get him to take them and then make a pass at him, he won't be able to handle it. I'll just need to buy a bit of time."

"And, how will you do that?" Ni-ki's expression went from concern to curiosity. He wanted to see how crazy you were because no normal person would think of a plan like this.

"Well, it's baking outside right now. The meetings would be delayed if there's a small electrical error. Right?"

He shrugged.

"If I can get the air conditioning off, that should buy me more time. And, maybe make Sunoo even more willing to... listen to my offer."

"I feel like you know my next question."

"Right, right. How?" You scrolled through the company directory. "Him. This guy! Sunghoon," You pointed to a stoic-faced man with pale skin and sharp eyebrows. "He joined around the same time I did. We're kinda friends–and he's the associate director of facilities. He could mess with the system!"

Ni-ki sat there, astonished you could spin this.

"And I could charm him a bit. He seemed a little... into me when we first met."

"Into you? So you're gonna fuck Sunghoon and Sunoo for a promotion."

You nodded fervently. "It's super simple! And, you're gonna be my partner in crime."

Ni-ki put his hands up. "I am not having sex with you."

"No, idiot. You're gonna help me get to Sunghoon and Sunoo without getting caught. Please!" You grabbed his arm as you put on the biggest puppy dog eyes.

"You know what? Fine. I'll help. But, you have to help me."

"Done."

"You're gonna fuck one more person."

"Okay, hold on..."

"You already agreed."

"That was before–"

"Just listen." Ni-ki cut you off with a glare. "I need you to get a Senior Programmer off my back. His name is Jungwon, and he's also a part of the employee review team. So he's a part of your plan."

"My plan was to get one member of the board, not two."

"I don't care. Then just aim for Jungwon then or no help from me."

"How am I even going to get close to him?"

Ni-ki smiled. "I'll handle that. You just... start your plan with Sunghoon." You groaned as Ni-ki stood up. His smile was almost devilish as he started plotting. He left the break room with a wave. "Don't forget to run to the store and get your supplies." He winked as the door shut behind him.

Now you were stuck in motion. Ni-ki was already putting his plan in motion. You couldn't back out now. With the time before the office opened, you rushed to a nearby store to get all you needed. A small bottle of lube, condoms, sexual stimulants, and a few other materials just in case.

It's time to get to work...

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cheol-e-kat · 5 months ago

Note

Hi there! For ur bingo, would it be fine request worship with praise kink? With reader being kinda crazy over mingyu's abs/stomach... (idk if you've seen his new ck photos are wild!!!!)

hiii - yes i did see them - he looks so good ^^ and i hope you like this drabble

♡ kat

bingo squares: worship + praise kink

pairing: mingyu x f!reader

word count: 0.8k

rating: NSFW | MDNI

warnings: below cut

smut, implied squirting, ab riding (thigh riding but abs), two-year age gap

you had seen him run his hand over his stomach a million times. it was maybe the one plus to having your baby brother - mingyu was his best friend, which meant every summer, you got to watch mingyu hanging out poolside. and in your mind, his body only got better every time you saw him.

but this summer was maybe the peak summer for his ab game. they were truly mouthwatering. you had even picked up darker sunglasses just to feel more comfortable ogling him from your lounge chair.

because why not? he was the one taking his shirt off at every opportunity and never seeming to put it back on, and you were just a pleased onlooker. one of many, you might add.

besides, you knew him well enough to know all the awards he won for science fairs - he wasn’t unaware of his effect on anyone. in fact, you were fairly sure that he enjoyed his ability to have almost anyone openly stare at him in appreciation. you did not count yourself amongst the people who openly stared - you were less obvious - always hiding behind sunglasses, a book, and a hat. he did not need you feeding his oversized ego.

the only issue was that he seemed to want your attention. he would go for a swim and then come to sit next to you, all wet and dripping and annoying. not to mention, he always wanted to know what you were reading. and the number of times you found yourself alone with him in the kitchen was a bit sus too - it was like he knew when you were going to your secret caprisun stash. and then you had to share so he wouldn’t tell anyone.

it seemed to all come to a head one afternoon though - there was something about the middle of the day when really no one was outside - even with the pool and the ocean within walking distance, it was just the time to head inside. unless you had kim mingyu quizzing you over your current book, since he wanted an update on the drama.

“you could just read it when i’m finished,” you groaned, happy that you were at least sitting in an oversized covered chair and avoiding the worst of the sun.

“it’s better when i ask you - you have all your own little thoughts and commentary,” he whispered, his fingers tracing lightly along your side.

you swatted his hand away, “rude,” you huffed.

he smiled, “at least i don’t try to hide how much i watch you,” his voice was still gentle.

“i don’t think there’s anyone hiding how much they look at you,” you turned onto your stomach, wanting to end the conversation. but you were literally in a little covered bubble with him, and turning over only meant you gave him tacit permission to touch your ass.

you were quick to sit up and glare at him. but he didn’t shrink back like normal. he wasn’t exactly afraid of the person who had once been his babysitter - a two-year age gap didn’t really qualify you as more adult anymore, but it had always been just enough to lord over your brother and his friends when they annoyed you. he only looked amused now as he leaned close, tracing his fingers along the underside of your breast as his lips made contact with yours.

things progressed quickly.

and you found yourself straddling him, riding his abs, while he pushed the crotch of your bikini bottom out of the way to see your pussy. you couldn’t help that they were maybe your favorite part of his body, and since he had no issue with you rutting against him, you weren’t going to pass up the chance.

“so fucking hot,” you mumbled.

he grinned, “yeah?” his gaze flicking between your face and your pussy.

you nodded, grinding your hips slowly over him, feeling just how defined his muscles were, every ridge helping you get closer to what you wanted, to come all over his perfect stomach.

you could feel his hand shift to your hip, urging you on, “so good, baby girl,” he whispered as he watched you.

you gasped when he touched your clit, “let me help, yeah?”

you flushed but didn’t stop him - he was always helpful. it only took a few moments of his ministrations, and you felt the tightening in your stomach and your cunt - your thighs squeezed against him, “ fuck, mingyu, right there,” you whined, knowing your fingernails were leaving little half-moon marks on his chest. you didn't exactly mind the idea of anyone seeing those.

your orgasm was like a sudden flash, leaving you moaning and shaking as you came. you shivered gently, as he pulled you down to him, kissing you, “so good for me,” he whispered as his lips pressed to yours.

a/n: so i can write drabbles under certain conditions - sorry, i did have to sit with this a bit - i like when they have some litltle background thing going on ^^ and yessss, they're soft for each other ;-; i am who i am lol

♡ kat

bingo card master list

bingo v. 1 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 2 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 3 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 4 ⋆.˚ 333 followers bingo ⋆.˚

seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral |

tag list: @syluslittlecrow ☁︎ @gyuguys ☁︎ @haik-chu ☁︎ @tinyelfperson ☁︎ @lovetaroandtaemin ☁︎ @starlit-rin

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

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hongism · 2 years ago

Text

what lies beneath us. - c. san (m)

➼ genre; fluff, smut, slight angst for the first half but i make it better quickly promise ➼ pairing; san x afab!reader ➼ au; established relationship, college au ➼ warnings; explicit smut ➼ rating; m/18+ ➼ wc; 6.4k

one busy semester is all it took for you and san to find yourselves struggling to find footing in the storm that is your relationship, yet rather than let go, he asked for one more week, one more day, one last chance to help get you back to shore

part of the ...and it's snowing collab.

────────────

➼ smut warnings; unprotected sex, oral: m, vaginal fingering, praise, body worship, service-top san, san has some slightly submissive tendencies, coming inside

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You normally wouldn’t find yourself in Wooyoung’s apartment on a Tuesday morning, sitting at the bar counter beside his roommate with two mugs of coffee sitting on the granite between you, but you also haven’t had any leisure time to waste lately. It’s a miracle that Wooyoung is even up before ten o’clock, though that might be in part due to you pleading desperately over the phone to come over.

“Oh, you make her coffee but not me? The fuck is up with that, Hwa?” Speak of the devil, Wooyoung comes into the kitchen still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“She’s a guest, you live here. And I had to wake you up because you slept through three alarms so my sympathy levels are close to zero right now.” Seonghwa flashes a faux shrug despite the heated glare he’s sent. Wooyoung lets out a huff but lets it go in favor of redirecting his attention to you.

“Right, well, what did you need to talk about so badly that it couldn’t wait until the afternoon?”

“San is coming over tonight, I couldn't do the afternoon,” you mumble.

“Is it about him then? Did something—” he waves a hand through the air like that’ll explain his thoughts, and when confusion shows on both your face and Seonghwa’s, he gives up “—did something happen between you guys?”

“It feels a bit awkward,” you admit over the rim of your coffee mug. Wooyoung scoffs at that, but Seonghwa is far more forgiving than your best friend in that he sends you a sympathetic grin.

“Awkward?” he prompts, toying with his own drink. Wooyoung pushes away from the counter and turns to the coffee maker.

“I don't know. Yeah, awkward, a bit. I guess. Like we don't know what we're doing or how to be in a relationship anymore.”

The brutal semester you both just suffered has been the main factor in the wedge in your relationship. Weekends full of studying, ones that you spent together at the start of the semester when he would come to your place or vice versa so that you could be together even while working. Then, San started picking up more shifts at his part-time job, and you had to redirect your focus to a particularly important internship that required you to forgo those weekends in the blink of an eye. You did have two weekends free of school and work, but San had to rush home during one of those on account of his mother falling ill. The other one was shot by you falling ill with the worst cold you’ve known in all your years of living. San came by that Friday with your favorite chicken and beer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to risk getting him sick when you knew how important the semester was to him too. It didn’t keep him from coming by again Saturday and Sunday both, soup was delivered to your front door along with voice messages wishing you well throughout the night. Even your text conversations were fizzling into oblivion by the time finals rolled around, which only served to amplify your feelings of dread.

“Has he been acting differently?” Wooyoung tunes back into the conversation, this time more serious with his tone. “Like, he's pulling away or something?” Wooyoung stands on a different footing in this conversation and knows things Seonghwa doesn't in terms of your relationship with San. He's been there for you since well before you started dating San, and you're certain that he'll be there for you if it were to end tomorrow, the next day, or years down the line.

“It's gonna sound so childish and stupid but he hasn't been calling me nicknames since the semester ended.” You tuck your hands into your lap and shrink into yourself a little, feeling the hot burn of shame well up inside.

“That's not stupid at all, y/n,” Seonghwa reassures barely a second after you finish your train of thought. “That's not.”

“He's right. That's totally unlike San.”

“Not! Helping!”

“I'm just being honest?!”

“Look, y/n, I don't want you to start having doom thoughts or thinking the worst — that doesn't mean his feelings for you have changed.” You’re starting to think that you should’ve asked Seonghwa for advice from the start instead of Wooyoung. “Maybe he's feeling that awkwardness you are too, or maybe he's feeling insecure. The only way to know is to ask. Have an open and honest conversation about it.”

“But…” You glance past Seonghwa to look at Wooyoung's back. Without even needing to look back, he seems to feel the weight of your stare.

“You're scared that if you bring it up, the worst will happen and y'all will break up.”

“We've been dating for so long that I don't know what I would do if that happened. I don't know how to be single, no offense to either of you, but it's just that we've been together for so long now. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if it ended.”

“If…” Wooyoung bites his words back as though he's unsure of how they will come out. “I don't want this to sound harsh, but if all it takes for him to lose his feelings for you is one busy semester, then that's not someone I would want you to have a future with. I know it's not up to me and it's not my business, but I want you to value yourself more than you value your relationship with San.”

“I truly don't think he's lost his feelings for you, y/n,” Seonghwa cuts in again, hand darting out across the counter in your direction. “Woo is right; you should value yourself more than the relationship you're in, but that doesn't mean you can only have one of those things. They can coexist.”

“What if I’m fighting for something he doesn’t want any longer?” you inquire softly and under your breath.

“The spark isn’t gone, y/n, I’m certain of that much. Maybe you just… need to find a way to reignite it!” The coffee maker dings loudly behind Wooyoung. And like it’s turning on a lightbulb in Wooyoung’s head, his expression turns suddenly bright. “Why not do just that? It’s been half a decade, to be fair, so really you can’t be blamed if things feel a little stale. If you went and did things that made you fall for each other in the first place, wouldn’t that help a bit?”

“I hate to say it…”

“You always say that when I’m right!”

“Ignoring him, that does sound like a good plan, y/n.”

Despite the reassurance from both your best friend and someone you consider to be far more mature and wiser, it doesn’t fully quell the concerns settling in your gut.

It’s only been six days since you last saw San, though you would argue that it feels a lot more like six months given how absent you both have been from each other’s lives of late. While that isn’t particularly your fault or his wholly — it’s definitely a joint effort that’s kept you apart — it does make your skin itch with anxiety every time you think about seeing him again.

It’s all culminated into this moment right now, where you sit on the edge of your couch waiting for the doorbell to ring and announce his arrival. You want to see him, desperately so, you’ve missed him so incredibly much that you can hardly stand it. And yet — you’re rooted to the cushions riddled by anxieties. You tried to rid yourself of the lingering stress after leaving Wooyoung’s apartment by doing chores properly for the first time in months, going so far as to run to the grocery and restock some necessities as well. You hate to be the type of partner who cannot do anything alone without associating it with your partner, but San was on your mind throughout the day.

Will he feel the same as you even though the flame keeping your relationship alive has been inching closer and closer to nothingness? The two of you don’t fight, in fact, your friends like to say that things go a little too smoothly between you two, and while that’s true, they aren’t aware of what it looks like when you and San aren’t getting along. It looks the way this semester has, slow conversations that lead nowhere and less time spent in each other’s presence. You aren’t fighting right now, but you certainly aren’t all sunshine and rainbows. The weather mirrors your emotions — dim greys shrouded by white flurries of snow that have been falling since early afternoon.

You clench your fingers around the seam of the couch cushion. No part of you wants to play the part of the overbearing partner: if you’re too eager to see him, wouldn’t he find it off-putting?

The doorbell rings.

It takes a moment for you to brace yourself for impact, standing and walking over to the door as slowly as you can manage without it seeming like a deliberate delay. The second you open the door, however, your worries melt away for a moment.

San smiles so brightly like you’ve not gone a second without reveling in each other’s presence. The weather is clinging to his coat still even though he had to climb three flights of stairs to reach your door. The little snowflakes are beginning to melt into the fabric.

“May I come in?” The facade cracks a bit. It’s not like him to ask such things, but you choose not to hold it against him now.

“Yeah, yeah, I finally had time to clean the other day so everything’s — nice.”

If your smile is strained, he says nothing about it, stepping over the threshold and into your apartment like it’s the first time he’s ever done so. He’s polite all the time, but now it makes those seeds of doubt sprout further because you’ve been together for five years now, what reason does he have to act like a stranger in your home? A home he’s been in time and time again, one he’s slept in, fucked you—

“Do you want ramen or pizza?” You force the thoughts to come to a halt before your expression turns bitter.

“Let’s do ramen, I’ll cut up the vegetables for you.”

There’s an elephant in the room that it seems neither of you wants to address, and so you keep your mouth shut just the same as San with the thought of “maybe this awkwardness will pass after tonight”. You watch him remove his coat and hang it up on the door while still picking at your nails. He extends a hand to you, one you take eagerly, and you lace your fingers through the gaps between his. A bit like a well-oiled machine, you think, something that Wooyoung had noted about the two of you as far back as freshman year of college. San presses his lips to the top of your head. You lean into the touch ever so slightly.

You share in a quiet synergy that carries you through the motions of preparing food, with no conversation exchanged aside from a “watch for the knife” and “careful, behind you” on occasion. You’re still trying to psyche yourself up to bring up what’s truly on your mind, so you aren’t sure that you’d be able to get any conversation out without it spiraling into insanity right off the bat. For the moment, for now, you want to simply drink in San’s presence.

He hums as he opens a cabinet in search of bowls, but they aren’t there.

“Oh, I—I moved the bowls to the other side.” Three months ago, your mind adds. It would do nothing but add salt to a blossoming wound. San stops dead in his tracks too. He seems to suffer the same crisis that you do right then. After a few seconds of mental buffering, he resumes his humming and shifts to the adjacent cabinet like the moment didn’t happen at all.

You sit beside each other at the bar counter, atop the uncomfortable stools you’ve had for well over two years now, but it offers a weird comfort because it’s familiar, it’s something San knows, it’s something you share and have shared for years.

“Thanks for the meal,” San says, still wearing a bitten-back smile.

“Of course. Thank you for helping.” But the detrimental reality of not speaking to someone properly for a long while is that part of you forgets how to make conversation with them. There is nothing for you and San to “catch up on” seeing as you’ve been keeping each other updated on your lives through dry text conversations. “Um…” He’s eyeing you carefully now, and you could pass off the watering in your eyes as the spice of the food, but he would call your bluff in an instant. The funny thing about doubt is that once it’s taken root, it’ll keep growing back no matter how many times you chop at the stem.

“What’s wrong, y/n?”

“It’s just — I don’t — are we breaking up?”

San freezes halfway over his ramen, chopsticks nearly falling from his fingers as he rushes to put his noodles back down. Your shoulders start shaking before you can stop it. He doesn’t stop you from turning away from him, but San has always been endlessly patient and gentle with you so you don’t expect him to ask you to look at him anyway. He does rest a hand atop your forearm though, and his thumb drags small, comforting circles over your skin.

“Talk to me, y/n, what do you mean by that? Why would we be breaking up?” The words themselves sound calm. There’s a slight quiver to his tone, however, that makes you want to crawl inside yourself and disappear. “A-Are you wanting that?” Your continued lack of response makes San more urgent than ever, and he shifts his hand to your leg, spinning you to face him. You can’t be certain of the expression on your face (though you’d wager there is some degree of hurt); whatever San sees makes him let out a distressed noise from the back of his throat. “Come here, duck, talk to me.”

Standing on somewhat shaky legs, you push yourself closer to San, and he instinctually moves his knees apart to let you tuck yourself into the space there.

“Don’t cry, baby, I’m here, you can talk to me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your face in his hands. You reach down to cling to his shirt like it’s a lifeline.

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that in weeks. This is the first time we’ve spent time together in six days. We’ve barely spoken or spent time together all semester, and I know why — I know we agreed that school and work have to come first. I know that.” Your voice drops to a whisper as you lose the confidence to speak. “I didn’t think it would mean losing you though.”

“You haven’t lost me, y/n. I’m still here, with you, loving you just as much as ever.” San smiles a little as you push your cheek further into his palm. “My feelings have not changed. I thought about you every day, wondered how you were doing, and if you responded to my texts late, I hoped you were eating well and getting enough rest. I listened to your voice memos rooting for me every night. Your face was always the first thing I saw in the morning because I still keep that slideshow of you as my lockscreen.” Reaching around to the back of your neck, he gives you a little tug, and your foreheads bump together. “The thought of you helped get me through the semester because I knew that it was you who was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel.”

“Sannie…”

“How long have you been worried over this, baby? You should’ve come to me the moment you started having doubts. I wouldn’t have let this go on if I had known.”

“I thought I felt you pulling away so I was scared to bring it up. You weren’t calling me nicknames anymore, and I started reading into it too much and freaked myself out.”

“I’m so sorry, y/n. Don’t put the blame on yourself, it’s not a crime to have anxieties. I didn’t even realize I stopped using them. I suppose I just got swept up in my own feelings and wanted to call you by your name as much as possible.” He nudges you with his head again. “Because I missed you so dearly.” Your lips turn up at the corners, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend. “And because I adore you so so much, my y/n.”

“Stop that.” You hope he doesn’t, truly.

“But I’m so mushy and full of love for you, y/n.”

“You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Oh, I can think of other ways to do that, baby.” San stands, subsequently pushing his body into yours, but your hands are still on each other, his moving down to caress the back of your thigh before he hooks his fingers around the bend of your knee and hoists your leg up over his hip. “I haven’t been good to you, my sweet,” he murmurs close to your lips. “What kind of boyfriend am I if I let you feel unwanted?” Your heart skips a beat as he grips tight at your other leg, then you’re suddenly weightless for a second as he hoists you up to his waist.

“We just ate—”

“I don’t plan on letting that stop me.” You let out a gasp as San traces the line of your jaw with his lips, hot breath spilling across your skin as he carries you from the kitchen. “Unless you want it to?” This damned man knows what he’s doing, he knows the hold he has over you �� your brain is already turning into a foggy mess of want, and even the prospect of waiting two minutes for him to lay his hands on you is too much to bear. Your nails drag across his shoulders, tugging at the thin material. He misses the doorknob to your bedroom thanks to your antics, sending you against the wood a little harshly and forcing the air out of your lungs. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Still on the pill.”

“Hm?” he echoes, managing to turn it right on the second try and popping it open properly.

“I’m still on the pill,” you repeat. San freezes in place to stare at your face. You bring a hand around to toy at his parted lips with your thumb. “So you can fuck me raw.”

San becomes so dumbstruck that his jaw moves up and down over and over without any semblance of noise coming out.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants like a horny teenager,” he says under his breath. You drop your head back and laugh. San’s hold on you feels so blissfully warm. You didn’t even have time for this during the semester, sometimes thanks to your workloads but more often thanks to sheer exhaustion. A few solo jaunts before bed are hardly enough to please you the way San does. Based on how tightly he’s gripping your ass, he seems to feel exactly the same.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

He manages to get you both to the bed without further incident, laying you down on the mattress with a sort of reverence that makes your chest swell with emotion. Even through the barrier of clothing, his fingers are hot and sear a path from your hips up your waist then right back down again as San wastes no time in stripping you of your pants.

“I missed you so fucking much it’s insane.” You want to respond, but the sight of your lover dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed stops you in your tracks. All you can do is lie there and watch him tug your pants off, lips moving to kiss each bit of exposed skin along the way. Goosebumps rise across your body when he kisses his way up higher. His broad frame cages you in the closer he gets to your face, and despite his hands being on the somewhat small side, they feel all-encompassing when they’re sneaking under your shirt and exploring the skin beneath.

“I missed you more,” you murmur, catching his chin between your fingers and angling his face upwards so you can properly look at him. “I love you so so much, San. More than I can put into words.”

“Yeah?” You make no effort to pull him higher although he moves as though you do and climbs all the way up to be right over your face. He hums before dipping down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “I think I’ve missed you more still though—” another kiss, this time to the opposite side of your mouth “—but you’re welcome to challenge me on that.”

“San,” you whine. He pulls back and sits back on his knees. Your brain goes totally blank watching him take his shirt off. It’s something you’ve seen time and time again, truly nothing new or foreign to you, but something about it now makes your gut twist in on itself. He’s lost a bit of the muscle you’ve grown accustomed to seeing on him, now softer around the edges, at the waist and across his stomach. It doesn’t curb your desire for him in the slightest; if anything it makes you want him more, to cling to him tighter and feel him firmer against you.

He throws the shirt down to the floor and drags a hand through his dark hair. His legs are splayed around yours, putting the prominent bulge in his pants on full display before you.

“I want you to use me, y/n.” He grabs your hand from where it’s resting against the bed and brings it to his chest. You dig your nail into his flesh like it’s second nature to do so. “Tonight, for your pleasure.” His eyes trail after your every moment, watching as you sit up and pull your legs out from under him. You graze the underside of his dick ever so slightly yet it’s still enough to make his lashes flutter.

“Then…” San is like putty in your hands, conforming to every move you make while still maintaining that unbreaking eye contact. He turns with you, and you climb off the bed to stand despite feeling seconds away from toppling over. All it takes is the slightest push against his chest for him to lie flat on his back. “Will you be good for me?”

His response comes in the form of a bitten-back whine thanks to you cupping the bulge of his cock as you withdraw your hand. It’s intoxicating to strip him of his jeans and feel every inch of his pretty tapered waist. You urge him to move further up on the bed, making room for you between his legs once you’ve tossed his pants down beside yours on the floor. The tip of his cock peeks out the top of his underwear, already stiff and leaking precum onto the elastic band. Saucy nudes here and there don’t do him nearly enough justice, you think. You tease just the bit of him that's exposed with your tongue, licking at the sensitive and swollen head, and he twitches beneath the fabric. Humming to yourself, you inch his underwear down just far enough to put his whole member on display, along with his balls, but you don’t go any further than that. It’s enough for you to get your mouth around him, after all, and that’s exactly what you do without giving San any time to brace himself for the touch.

He lets out a desperate moan the moment your wet heat envelopes his length, fingers curling into his palms around the comforter. His hips twitch with the desire to thrust upwards, but he keeps himself firmly planted on the bed, fulfilling his end of the bargain for you and being so delightfully good. The weight of him on your tongue isn’t nearly enough; you want him buried deep inside you as soon as possible, and you’d go on and do it now if you didn’t think it would hurt like a bitch given how long it’s been since you’ve taken him. San isn’t distracted enough to miss the way you retract a hand to touch yourself, and he fights to speak through broken moans.

“I w-wanna touch you, pretty.” You lift yourself off his cock until just the tip sits on your lower lip.

“I’ll let you later when I ask you to fold me in half and fuck me into the mattress.” You sink two fingers into your hole, taking San back into your mouth to revel in that full feeling again. You’re just as needy as he is, in reality, because your walls are already coated with arousal and it pools around the base of your fingers in such a way that it makes your cheeks flush. San’s noises aren’t helping in the slightest — for as quiet as he is in day-to-day life, he is ever so vocal when it comes to sex, especially when his cock is buried in your mouth. He’s just long enough to push right into the back of your throat, making it far easier for you to take him fully.

“Your mouth feels so — fuck, fucking good, baby.” If you weren’t preoccupied, you would love to return his words with your own, so you settle for tugging at his balls a little. It earns you a delightful little yelp, and his hips buck up to drive his dick further into your throat than expected. “Hngh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“I want—” you don’t finish your train of thought, too rushed to bother with it as you scramble to rid yourself of your underwear. San greets you with his hands when you climb back onto the bed and grabs hold of your waist. He tugs and pulls at your shirt until it’s gone too, leaving you with nothing more than your plain black bra. However, even that San seems to find issue with, because he toys with the clasp until it comes loose and throws that aside too.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, settling back against the mattress. He’s always told you this is his favorite position, to see you straddling his hips and bouncing on his cock, though he favors missionary quite a bit as well because it lets him see your body and face while he’s fucking you (despite how much he loves your ass). His cock is trapped between your pussy and his stomach now, hard and throbbing for the same kind of stimulation you so desperately crave. You drag your folds along his length a few times just to tease San, but he grips your hip in warning. In hindsight, you should have let him finger you open more before because the stretch is far more than you remember — not enough to hurt, but enough for you to really feel every inch of him entering your body. It makes you writhe atop him, your spine arches, and you drop your head back. San holds you like you're a precious gem, thick arms circling around your waist as you rest your hands on his chest. The position gives you some much-needed stability, but San's fingers have begun to get severely distracting. He rolls his thumbs into your skin, pausing only to squeeze and pinch at the more sensitive parts of your sides.

“I’m gonna start moving,” you whisper like being too loud will break some sort of seal. San nods and unwraps his arms enough to simply hold your hips. Despite the decrease in definition of his muscles, his strength doesn’t seem to have gone anywhere, because he lifts you with such ease that it’s a bit dizzying. Still, he lets the control rest in your hands. You sink down slowly on his cock, letting your walls get used to the drag, before doing the same motion two, three more times. The first whimper to fall from your lips is what snaps your resolve. San’s hold on you remains firm but only to ease the strain on your thighs as you begin to pick up your pace.

“Beautiful, beautiful, you’re so beautiful, my sweet.” San rolls his hips up in time with your movements, driving his cock up into your cunt as you drop yourself onto him, and it reaches so deep inside you that you see stars behind your eyelids. “Missed you so much, missed this, seeing your body through photos wasn’t enough — fuck, it wasn’t enough.”

“How many, ah, times did you come to those photos, hm?” You crack one eye open to watch San’s face. He’s already flushed with want, but the red in his cheeks deepens more upon hearing your question. You lean your weight further into your hands. “I fingered myself so many times thinking of you, Sannie. B-But, hngh, it wasn’t good enough. Not as good as your cock. Nothing… n-nothing feels as good!”

San thrusts up with more vigor now, all but taking over for you to go slack above him as he drives your hips down with his hands and pushes his length into you from the opposite direction. Then, suddenly, his movements falter and stutter to a halt, and he looks just as shocked as you are when his cock twitches against your walls. A blooming of warmth fills you right after, along with the realization that San has just come inside you without warning.

“I-I’m sorry, I — I didn’t mean to, ah, I thought I would last longer.” He slings an arm up over his eyes, and the red in his face deepens in hue. “I’m sorry, I should’ve let you come first.” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Leaning down over him, you peel his arm away from his face so that you can see his shamed expression better.

“Your dick is far from the only thing that can make me come, babe. Right?”

He nods a few times, but there’s still a pout on his lips. You kiss it away.

“Then—” you detach yourself from his body, bringing about an unwelcome emptiness as his spent cock slips out of you, and roll onto your back beside him. He watches with rapt attention as you spread your legs and open your pussy to him. “Why don’t you?”

San moves with surprising haste for a man who has just come, rolling into the space between your legs, and while you expected him to just use his fingers to get you off, he hooks his hands around your thighs and shoves his face into your used cunt instead. It yanks a startled moan out of you, and it’s only amplified when he closes his lips around your clit. He’s lucky you don’t give him a concussion with how quickly you slam your thighs around his head. You don’t notice that he’s moved a hand until fingers are prodding at your leaking entrance and urging the come he just pumped into you back into your hole.

“O-Oh, San.”

Normally, he takes his sweet time eating you out, bringing you to the precipice of orgasm before sending you right back down time and time again without release. Though, either out of lingering shame at coming early or simply out of a desire to make you unravel, San laps at your clit so eagerly that it sends shudders through you. You can feel your blood rushing lower as he urges you to come, walls clenching around his fingers. It only takes another second more for the first wave to hit you, and it makes you scramble to grab hold of San’s hair as he keeps curling his fingers over your sweet spot. He does so throughout each wave of your orgasm until tears burn the corners of your eyes and you’re all but pleading for him to grant you some mercy.

“You — you had nothing to prove, you know,” you say between desperate attempts to catch your breath. San giggles and looks up at you from his lewd position. “Ugh!” You shove his head away from you half-heartedly just to spare yourself more embarrassment.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, duck!”

You only go as far as the pillows, turning back to him immediately and opening your arms to welcome him into them.

“I came too early, of course I had something to prove,” he adds once he’s snugly placed against your chest. You slot together like two pieces of a puzzle, his head under your chin and your breath stirring the messy strands of hair in your path. “I’ve fallen out of practice. When was the last time I did that? It’s embarrassing…”

You can’t contain your laughter.

“You always come a little early when I ride you.”

“That’s not fair!”

All you can do to soothe him is pat his head. You feel a tad sticky and gross all over, but San’s warmth more than makes up for it, and if you’re not careful, you’re certain you’ll fall asleep within minutes. A small sniffle coming from the man atop you chases thoughts of rest away in the blink of an eye though.

“San?”

“’m okay, promise.”

“You’re crying, baby, that’s not ”okay“.”

“I just,” he inhales and licks over his lips, skating across your sternum in the process. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna stay afloat without you.” You comb your fingers through his hair.

“Tell me when you need me and I’ll be there. Always.”

“I didn’t want to disrupt your schedule and get in the way.”

“You have to trust that I’ll take care of myself and my responsibilities even if I help you too. You always tell me that when I worry over the same things. It goes both ways, San, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods against you. “Okay, I’ll try to remember that. As long as you don’t lock yourself away when things get tough. Rely on me if you need strength. And talk to me when something is on your mind.”

“Alright, we have an agreement.” Out of nowhere, you remember Wooyoung’s suggestion from this morning. Picking at a stray piece of San’s hair, you mull over your thoughts some more. You could let things settle as they are now since things seem to be back to a pleasant state of balance. But even so, would it do any harm to try anyway? “I’d like to go on a first date again. With you. I want us to go on a first date again.”

“Hm?”

“Like… I want us to go out like it’s the first time all over again. And feel that excitement and giddiness we had back then. We don’t have to, it’s just a thought. I don’t know. Maybe it’d be a good thing after this semester.”

Silence overtakes the room. San’s breathing is so steady that you think he’s fallen asleep, but the second you try to shift and see his face, he tilts his head up and looks into your eyes.

“Alright. Let’s go on a first date again.”

…

“I figured we’d go to that little Thai place by the grocery before heading over to the Christmas light show?”

“Oh!” Your thoughts rearrange themselves around his words. “That sounds really nice, yeah.”

“The guys wanna meet up at Wooyoung’s after for chicken and beer, but I told them I’d leave the decision up to you.” He tilts his chin a bit to the side as he speaks, lips quirked up at the corners, and you find yourself so incredibly fond of him all over again.

“Let’s see how we feel after walking around.”

You offer to drive tonight, but he denies you quickly, whining about how he filled his tank full of gas just for tonight so you don’t push the matter any further than that (though, you still tease him a bit once he opens the passenger door for you). When he turns the car on, music starts blasting through the speakers, a song you recognize well, and the dash shows that he’s been listening to the playlist you made for him at the start of the last school year.

“Sorry, forgot the volume was up so high.” He scrambles to twist the dial down, but you stop him with your hand, gripping his wrist lightly and giving a firm shake of your head.

“I didn’t realize you still listened to it. Normally you just have the radio going.”

“Ah, well,” San’s cheeks are a bit flush under the low lights of the car, “I suppose I’ve been feeling a bit sentimental these days.” His next move is a bit hesitant; he reaches across the console and lays his hand atop your thigh. You reassure him by putting your hand over his, fingers curling around his once again. It feels normal and familiar, though you can’t count on two hands the last time you’ve done something as menial as holding hands with San.

“San?” He makes a noise of acknowledgment while watching the road. “I’ve missed you.” His nails dig into your flesh a little, and the pressure makes your heart clench in your chest.

“I’ve missed you more.” You can only see his side profile, but it’s enough for you to catch the upturn of his lips.

“I’ve missed you most then.” The statement slips out through a pout.

“And I love you more than the moon loves the ocean.”

The weight of his hand is comfort enough for you to be at ease for the rest of the drive.

────────────

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#ateez smut #ateez x reader #san smut #san x reader #choi san smut #choi san x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez ff #san imagine #san imagines #caly.writes #fic; and it's snowing #winter fic fest 2023 #fic; what lies beneath us

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planetwaynez · 1 year ago

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bad ideia right?

Jason x Roy x Fem!Reader

Notes: I've been cooking this JayRoy x Fem!Reader for some time now, the only thing is... I got excited and ended up writing waaaay too much so this will be separeted in two parts. This is part one, if you guys like it lemme know if you want part two, pls!!!

PART 2!!!!

WARNINGS: Talks about stalking, nearly death experince, violence, murderer, being socialy secluded, a lot of complicated feelings. This is part 1!

Words: 4,7k

Synopsis: It never crossed Roy's mind that his cute civilian ex would be knocking at his apartmant door asking for help. Jason never tought that he would've to help his boyfriend with his ex, but he is, especially because she might die if they don't help her out.

Things are not so great at the moment. And she knows it, that's why she stands in front of her ex boyfriend's apartment door, picking at her nails and looking everywhere but the door. She knows she shouldn't be looking for him, but in the situation that she finds herself, Roy may be the only person that can help her out. Rationality, she knows it's no biggie, showing up and asking for her ex boyfriend, who is a very known vigilante, to save her skin. However, emotionally, she knows it's fucked up.

Taking a deep breath, she knows it's a bad idea, but she reaches for the door and knocks. Taking a step back, y/n can feel her muscles starting to shake in a nervous fit.

It's been two years since she saw Roy for the last time, and she wonders how much has changed since then.

The door is open and y/n looks up, to find a tall brunette looking at her with an arched eyebrow. She smiles, trying to be polite. He doesn't smile back.

“Hi! Is this Roy Harper's apartment?” She asks, still picking at her nails and the man in front of her notices.

“Yes” he answers, his voice deep and intimidating and for the first time she knows for a fact that this is more than a bad idea, it's a terrible one. But then again, it's better than dying.

“Is he home?” The man crosses his big arms over his chest, taking in a more intimidating stance than before.

“Yes”

He is not the most polite ever, and it's starting to make y/n panic turn into frustration very quickly.

“Can I talk to him?” the man clicks his tongue, obviously not liking her request. Well, what can she do, a girl needs to try her shot.

“Who is at the door, love?” a familiar voice asks and now she understands. The huge guy in front of her is acting up in a jealous fit. Does he know who she is? Probably.

“Your ex” he says, and yeah, he knows who she is.

They can hear steps coming in the direction of the door and a very confused Roy shows up, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and his hair is longer, long enough to be put up in a man bun. Cute.

“Y/n?” He is pale and it seems like he just saw a ghost in front of him. She smiles and gives a tiny wave, not knowing how to act. When she decided to ask Roy for help, she knew that there was the chance for this to happen. A chance to find out about his new partner, a chance that he would look terrified, a chance that he would say no and let her die. Simple stuff.

“Hi, Roy” things are awkward, the three of them looking at each other like idiots.

“What are you doing here?” Roy seems offended that she ever had the guts to show up like this and honestly, she understands him and would deal with this situation in a more aggressive way if it was her in his place.

“I need your help” she can feel her cheeks burning and her heart rate increase, she feels the sting of a broken nail and her palms are sweating.

“With what?” Who asks the question is the brunette man, and y/n finally looks at him. He is wearing the same attire as Roy, paired up with a long sleeve black compression shirt, and she realizes how big he actually is. If he wanted to, he could throw her through the stairs of the building with ease. He is scary.

Instead of actually answering the brunette, she started rambling all of her thoughts to them, feeling her chest tight.

“I know you told me not to go, I know you said my brain would put me in danger one day and that my smart mouth would kill me and honestly I never believed you, but I fucked up. I fucked up real bad, Roy.” Desperation seeps through her voice, making her look ridiculous but the amount of panic in the woman in front of Roy only sparks his worry.

“What the fuck did you do?” He asks, taking her wrist and pulling her inside the apartment, practically throwing her in their living room.

“I stumbled across files I should have not stumbled across.” Roy Harper is not a man to worry, unless it's his daughter, Jason or Dinah. Or Y/n.

She was always one to worry about. Always too smart for her own good, always too clever to her own safety, always too curious. She found out way too easily his identity as Arsenal when they were dating. He knew that one day she would have a price over her head.

“What does that mean, y/n?” He is basically yelling at her now, frustrated that she doesn't give him the information he needs. She pouts, hating the fact that Roy is yelling at her.

“It means you were right, ok? I am too curious for my own good and now some rich people want me dead.”

Fuck it.

Jason didn't see this one coming, not even a thousand miles away. When he woke up this morning, sore from their last mission, he wouldn't have guessed that Roy's most recent ex and only civilian ex, would show up at their doorstep asking for Roy to save her skin from rich people.

Jason sighs, drawing the attention to him. He closes his eyes, hoping this is some weird dream, but when he opens them again, two pairs of eyes are staring at him. He thanks the gods that Lian is with Alfred.

“And how could Roy help you?” Jason asks, wondering what is going through this stranger woman's head.

“As Arsenal, obviously” she says, as if Jason is one dumb fucker, and he can't believe that this is happening.

“She knows?” Roy shrugs, as if saying ‘I have no control over that’.

“She found out when we were three months into the relationship” Jason looks at her again, shocked with this new piece of information. He knew they dated for over a year, and also knew how heartbroken Roy was when she left to live in Ireland because of a job opportunity. He didn't know she knew about Arsenal, though.

“It was actually quite easy to figure it out” she says, her eyes roaming over him, not in a ‘I am attracted to you’ way but in ‘who are you?’ type of way, and that made an uneasy feeling set in Jason's stomach.

“How?” He needs to know how she found out, how her brain works. Jason knows a lot of people, for fucks sake, he knows Tim and Tim found out Robin's identity at the age of nine, not many things shook him, but it's eight in the morning and this woman is definitely weird.

“I noticed they have the same scar on the left arm”

Jason's eyes bulge just a little and he looks at his boyfriend, who is looking at the floor, probably embarrassed with how easily a civilian found out his identity.

“I know” the read head says, clicking his tongue “she is a freak with that brain of hers”

It's y/n's turn to sigh, rolling her eyes. She looks at Jason again and says, very calmly.

“I knew I could say Roy is Arsenal near you because I firmly believe you already knew. Not because he told you, but because you are like him” the nervous and anxious girl from before is gone and she looks more confident and comfortable, and that uneasy feeling of having someone with a bigger brain than yours in the room comes back to Jason's stomach.

“And why's that?” Roy chuckles, and Jason looks at him with a quizzical look but the redhead says nothing, just smiles.

“You keep analyzing me, noticing every single move I make. For a guy your size you are very quiet and silent” she point out, numbering everything she says in her manicured fingers “Also, you keep reaching for your thigh, as if you keep looking for a gun in a holster” Y/n points to his hand, resting in his left thigh, and he wants to curse himself.

“I will make an educated guess and say you are Red Hood, the guy that is always with Arsenal” She says and smiles, tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck that has a hand imprint on it. “You are him, aren't you?”

Jason nods, not verbally answering her, but he knows there is no use lying since she knows about Roy's identity. What actually sparks his interest is the marks in her neck. She notices him looking and she once again hides her skin from them. Jason looks at Roy, to see if he saw the same as him, and his boyfriend's gaze is focused on y/n neck as well. There is more to this story than she is truly telling, and they know.

“She found out about Dinah in forty minutes in the same room as her.” Roy says, instead of saying something about the purple marks, walking to the kitchen to get a water bottle for himself.

Jason looks at her, doing exactly what she said he was doing before, but now he takes his time. Analyzing her. Meanwhile, she keeps an eye on Roy, who is not caring at all about the exchange behind him.

Roy turns around, holding his water bottle and looks at the two of them. He drinks all the water with a few gulps, feeling the cold water calm him down to the conversation he will soon have. He really wants to know who is the fucker that tried to choke her to death and left those marks on her smooth skin.

“Come with me” he says, pointing at a very shocked Jason and a very smug y/n to follow him.

The three of them get in a room decorated to be a study, Roy sits on a couch in the corner of the room and Jason sits next to him, his big arm going around Roy's shoulders.

“Explain yourself, pookie” Roy says and y/n takes a deep breath, collecting her thoughts to start explaining herself to the two vigilantes in front of her.

“It all started a few months ago when Campbell Enterprises, the place I worked at, developed a new project. One that was secretive and only a few would participate, the HR did a whole campaign to encourage us to participate in the selective process to choose the ones that would be a part of this new project. I was hoping I was not chosen, honestly, I was fine with the workload I already had at my lab at the time, but it was mandatory to participate” she pauses, taking a deep breath and looking at the window, watching the sun come through.

“They chose me and a few others to be a part of it, but it was all too secretive, even for us that were working on it. It was tiring, since my regular workload kept coming” she clicks her tongue and blinks, as if she was transported back to the moment that she is telling them about. “One night I stayed later than usual, it was just me in the laboratory, I was tired and annoyed with a few things so I started digging around, just so see if I could see the development of the others that I worked with.”

She blinks again, swallowing tears and looks at them. Roy and Jason are looking at her very attentively, waiting patiently for her to continue. There is no pressure, no tension in the room, just two men looking at her as if she was made of glass and that, for some reason, soothed the pain inside. Y/N is too used to not allowing herself to be fragile, but right now, with Jason and Roy, she feels that she can allow herself to be a little bit vulnerable.

“That's how I ended up coming across the real motivation of the project. They told us that we were developing a new medicine for kids with cancer, when in fact, we were developing a new drug so they could kidnap children and teenagers with more ease.” There is silence in the room and inevitably, they all thought about Lian, that is safely with Alfred, but she could not be, like many others are not.

“And they found out you came across those files and that's how you got five fingers in your neck?” Roy asks, arms crossed and a frown between his eyebrows, looking irritated.

“Not exactly” she says, her right hand going instinctively to her neck, gulping just to remember the touch of that man on her skin. “They found out I knew, but they didn't make it obvious. I knew they would find out eventually and come after me, but until then I thought I could keep living my life.”

Silence reigns the room, the three of them knowing she was just living an illusion until reality came knocking on her door.

“I went out on a date” she says, and that sparks even more their interest. Jason scoffs, not believing what he just heard.

“You knew you had a target on your back and you went on a date?” He asks sarcasm in every word that he says. She nods and Roy looks at her with disbelief in his green eyes.

“I was needy” she simply states, shrugging as if it was not a big of a deal, except it was. “He was a hitman”

Jason and Roy look at each other, not knowing how to actually react to her words. It all seems so out of this world, especially with the way she tells things, so calmly.

“We were kissing, he grabbed my neck and said that I was too curious, he had a good grip but I had a pocket knife” she is smiling and Jason knows for a fact now that she is crazy.

“So you stabbed him” Roy says, a smirk forming in the corner of his red lips. She nods.

“Didn't kill though, just enough to run away” she looks again at the window and takes a deep breath, “that's how I ended up in an airplane to Gotham. I called Dinah and asked where you lived, she told me you moved to Gotham, gave me your address and that's how I ended up here.”

She looks at them again and they can see in her eyes that she is lost. Desperate. In panic and disbelief of herself. What Jason can't see but Roy can is that Y/n truly believes she is going to die if they don't help her out.

Roy is not happy to have his ex, who broke his heart even if their break up was mutual and mature, standing in front of him. Roy is not happy that Dinah just gave information on him so easily. But he is less happy with the idea of y/n dying. No, he gets angry just with the idea of her not existing anymore.

And Jason may not know y/n, but he knows his boyfriend. He knows Roy just as well he knows himself and Jason can see it in the redhead's eyes that they will help her out, even if it fails, they will try their best. Jason can also see the care and admiration in Roy's eyes every time he looks at her, it's the same way Roy looks at him.

Jason will have to swallow his pride and jealousy, because he is going to help his boyfriend's ex to not die.

“We will help you” Roy says, looking at Jason for support and he finds everything he needs in his lover's eyes.

“But with a few conditions” Jason says, now looking at the younger woman. He knows she is younger than them, but now she truly looks like it. The sun is bathing her from her side, making her eyes shine and seem bigger, her lips are painted a glossy red and her cheekbones are chubby and pink. He can't deny, she is adorable and pretty.

“Anything” she says, her lips quivering just slightly. Jason smirks, he knows he is an asshole, but he also gets the job done.

“You will be staying at one of your monitored safe houses, and you won't leave the house, unless one of us is with you.” Roy nods, his gaze focused on her. The redhead forgot how beautiful she looks with her hair down and a turtleneck and he can't stop staring at her now that he noticed.

“We will make the groceries for you, just give a list. Also only burner phones and not social media” Roy says, and y/n was expecting nothing less than that. She is asking for them to keep her alive and she knows they will do it, even if it means keeping her away from society for a while.

“And we need all the information that you have” Jason finishes, reclining himself against the couch, relaxing his muscles.

Y/n stares. She was always curious and when she thinks something - or someone - is pretty, she stares. She didn't look at Jason until she did, and now that she sees what Roy sees, she can't stop looking.

They are both attractive men, she can't decide which she will take a look at longer, her brain working faster than normal to keep up with everything that she is thinking, from the information that they need to Jason's muscles and Roy's pretty lips.

She knows it's going to be a long ride with those two around her.

4 MONTHS LATER

It was comfortable to stay hidden from society while Roy and Jason were dealing with the issue she put herself in. It is comfortable to stay in and watch movies, read books and cook whatever she feels like cooking. It is comfortable not having to go out to do her own grocery shopping, since Jason did that for her in the last four months, and he never forgot anything from the list. It is comfortable to have them around all the time, it is comfortable to have Lian over on the weekends to play with dolls and paint ceramics with her.

However she knows it's not going to last any longer. Actually, all this comfortable scenario is over as she stares at Roy and listens to him talk.

“It’s all over, we fixed everything up, you can go back to living your life, pookie” he says, his green eyes shining with something she can’t quite comprehend, but she knows the feeling that is attached to her chest. He is sitting in a chair in front of her, only a table stopping Y/N to reach out and hug him until her heart stops growing with pain.

She got comfortable, she created an illusion for herself once again. They were there almost everyday, talking, making jokes and eating homemade food made by her, she even got to befriend Jason in the first month, just to develop feelings for him in the third. In the second month she already knew she still loved Roy with her whole soul, and seeing him so dedicated to see her safe again only intensified that.

She can’t explain, really, how she feels. She just knows its different but she loves them both. Roy is like a ray of sunshine that comes through the window, always warm and welcoming, always making her feel important and cared about. He was always good at making her feel like she is the only girl in the world, like she is actually important and easy to love. It's hard to let those feelings for him go, since she can’t get enough of his smile, his green eyes and his stupid jokes. She thinks that deep down, she never stopped loving him. It was like coming home from a long trip, the feeling of having Roy around again was that. His hugs became frequent again and she thinks she can’t let him go, the warmth and the intimacy are just too good and keeps her sane in the difficult days.

Jason was a surprise. Y/N never thought it was possible to love two people at the same time and in the same intensity, but so differently from each other. At first, she thought she was going crazy with guilt because she still loves Roy, and Jason is his boyfriend. But then, slowly, she realized she fell for him just as hard as she had fallen for Roy. Jason is attentive, caring and even though he is more introverted, he understands her on a deep level. He knows when she is upset before she even acknowledges herself, he always has a good book recommendation and he always helped her in the kitchen when he could. Lian loves him and he is good with kids just as much as Roy is. He is calm and collected and somehow, he soothes her mind.

She loves them.

But she is sure they don’t love her back.

“Really?” she questions it, not believing that she can once again live in society without risking herself.

“Yes” Jason says, he is behind Roy, his arms crossed and he doesn't look at her for longer than what's enough.

“Everything is clean, then?” She questions it once again, fear creeping inside her head, telling that they couldn’t do anything and that she will die if she leaves their embrace.

“Yes, pookie, everything is clean” Y/N nods, pressing her lips together and looking away from them, not knowing how to actually feel. She is happy that she is once again safe, that she can walk around without risking being murdered, that she can talk longer to her parents. But she can feel that pain in her chest, the one telling her this is the last time she will ever talk to them, see them and feel their presence. She is free to go anywhere, but the only place that she wants is not available for her.

While she sits in sorrow, she doesn’t realize that both men are devastated as well as she is. Roy knew it was possible to love two people at the same time, to want to be romantically with two people at the same time, but it never crossed his mind that he would be living this feeling so intensely. He loves Jason with his soul, he would die for his boyfriend and kill just anyone Jason asked him to kill. But he can’t deny that he also loves Y/N, she is everything he could possibly want and not deserving to have. Her smile, her scent, her eyes, her lips, her body, her hair, everything in her was an invitation to his heart. Roy loves her with his heart, he would do anything for her too, he just did. He killed for her last night just to be sure she would be fine. He doesn’t want to let go, but if that's what she wants, he will do it.

Jason was always skeptical about feelings until he fell for Roy, and he fell hard. He loves Roy more than he could ever be possible, he would take Roy in his worst days just as much as he would take Roy in his good days, and he would go against the world to see his boyfriend happy and calm. Jason stopped drug dealing because he thought it was disrespectful with Roy since he is clean and healthy after a long period of darkness. He takes care of all the things Roy doesn’t want to and he is nice to people that once hurt him because he wants to be good for his boyfriend and to Lian. It never occurred to him that he could possibly fall for Y/N during this time working for her safety. But he did. And it was embarrassing. He could not look at her longer than a few minutes or his mind would drift to scenarios they would never live, and then he would feel guilt eating him up. Jason was going crazy over his feelings for this woman, she was diabolical with the way she made him feel. The way she would make him blush with a brush of fingers while cooking, the way she would make his chest warm with happiness when she smiled at him and the way she would make him feel euphoric when she complimented something about him. She was diabolical, and that's why in the last month he told Roy about his feelings.

Jason remembers how long the talk was, and he was not shocked to know that Roy still loves her and he truly understands the readhad, it's easy to love Y/N. Her ramblings about things she likes, the way she walks on the tip of her toes when happy, the way her hair falls over her eyes when she is focused. Jason feels like he is not some monster around her, she makes him feel light and makes him forget about all the vigilante stuff, he feels normal around her and good, he feels good. She makes it seem it's easy to be around him.

They agreed to let her go if it was truly what she wanted, but if she decided to stay, they already talked about asking her out on a date, with both of them. If she didn’t want them both, they agreed that they would move on. It was the three of them together or nothing.

“What are you going to do now?” Roy asks, voice hoarse trying to keep the tears away. The young woman shrugs, her gaze on the wall next to her, deep in thoughts Roy couldn’t imagine what is about.

“A penny for your thoughts, sweets” Jason says, once again looking at her, he can feel the dread polling at his stomach and he just wants to hold her until she gets tired of him and Roy.

“Thinking about my mom and my dad” she says, finally looking at them with tears stuck in her bottom lashes, making her look like a crying angel in the dim light of the kitchen.

“Are you going to stay with them until you find another job?” the redhead questions, his fingers tapping lightly at the table, a clear sign of anxiety.

“Yeah, I think I will,” she says softly, her shoulders drooping and her head falling, somehow hiding her face from the vigilantes in front of her.

“Nice” Jason says, his voice thick with something not even him can say what it is, but he knows it’s not a good feeling. He feels like he is losing her without trying to actually have her in the first place. “They must miss you”

“They do,” she answers Jason quickly, trying to stop the conversation in its tracks, but it looks like he won’t bite the bullet.

“Where do they live, again?” the brunette asks, not wanting to stop because if they stop talking he won’t be listening to her voice.

“New York City”

Jason clicks his tongue not knowing what to say anymore so he looks at Roy, expecting to see the redhead formulating a plan to keep her around longer, but there is only acceptance in this eyes and Jason knows he lost the battle, he knows she would be leaving soon to NYC and if he tries to stop her, Roy wouldn’t help. Not because he doesn’t love her, but because he isn’t the type to hold people where they don’t want to be.

Roy gets up and smiles fondly at Y/N, hiding his true feelings behind a mask. “If you need anything, just call us.”

She smiles, a tiny one, and nods again understanding that she is not wanted around when in fact what they wanted more is for her to stay with them.

“See you around, boys” she says, leaving for the bedroom that will no longer be hers in the morning.

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dpspcehntr · 1 month ago

Note

Hey! I saw your requests are open. I hope you are having a great weekend.

My request:

GradstudentMC!xSylus

MC is 3 weeks deep in perpetual research work and Sylus is realizing MC might need a stress relief but having troubling finding time to assist. Sylus being a little bratty about needing more time with MC is also a plus.

Thanks in advance and I hope you have fun writing this! (if you choose to do so)

Do you know? 😭 Did you know when you sent this that I’m in grad school?? 😭 I had to do this request simply because it is too self indulgent not to so thank you so much 🙏🏾🙌🏾

My ask box is officially OPEN! Send me your requests, thoughts, head canons, anything you want! Before you send, please read the rules!

Warning: Grad School AU!, grinding

You see your phone screen light up with a new notification.

1 New Message From: Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤

You quickly switch your phone to silent and continue diving in to the third article of the night. You’ve been deep into your thesis research for three weeks now with no signs of slowing down. Between your teaching job, grading papers, research, and writing; much of your social life has fallen between the cracks. Not that you have much in terms of a social life, your cohort is very busy, but what was there might as well be dust on your phone screen. Your eyes burn slightly from looking at your computer screen for so long but alas the grind never stops. Before long another two hours have passed and yet you feel no closer to the end. You sigh and get up for a stretch and grab your phone.

8 New Messages From: Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤

2 Missed Calls From: Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤

“What in the world?”

You mutter to yourself as you open up your missed messages.

Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤: Kitten I haven’t you in almost a week

Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤: Ignoring me now? This is a new low for you, sweetie

Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤 : Sweetie

Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤: You know these things work two ways right? No point in just talking to myself

Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤: I see your location I know you’re home

Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤: Call me back when you get a chance

Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤: At this rate I’d say you forgot about me kitten

Scary Crow Man ❤️🐦‍⬛🖤: Don’t think I won’t come over there

You sigh and lock your phone yet again. Just for one second you want to not think about your responsibilities and close your eyes. You lay down on the couch in your living room and before long you’re fast asleep. When you realize what happened you sit up with a start. Shit shit shit! You forgot to text back Sylus! Still in your dazed state you look around the room to find Sylus on the seat opposite of you waiting idly for you to wake up. You rub your eyes blearily and get up to stretch.

“How did you even get in? I don’t have a spare key remember?”

He looks up at you with wild amusement, this must be fun for him. A smirk sits on his lips as he looks back down as the gun he’s polishing.

“Took you long enough, sweetie. I was starting to think you were ignoring me, I had to come check and see for myself. You didn’t think I’d make my own copy for ‘emergencies’?”

He sets the gun in his hand down and gestures for you to come closer. You don’t have much fight left in you after these last three weeks and happily oblige, straddling his thighs and sinking deep into his arms. He wraps his arms around you and settles your head into the crook of his neck. Your breath lingers on his skin sending a shiver down his body. You pepper his skin with little kisses while hugging him tighter. You missed him so much during all of this but time just hasn’t permitted you a moment to see him. The weight of your stress hits you then and all you want is to be underneath him. What better stress relief is there than getting dicked down by your hot scary boyfriend? He notices the change in your kisses, just a little more aggressive and needy. His hands slide up the back of your shirt making you shiver under his touch. You lean back and move your arms to wrap around his neck and pull in to lightly peck his lips.

“I’ve missed you too, kitten.”

His hands continue to explore your body as he leans in for another kiss. You moan into his mouth greedily as you card your fingers in his hair. He presses you deeper into him, trying to feel as much of you on him as he can.

"Sylus, I need you. I need you real bad."

You whisper into the kiss before trailing them down his face to the sweet spot on his jaw. He moans shamelessly as you grind yourself into the hard on forming in his pants. He takes of his hands from under your shirt and slides it underneath you. Once seated in his grasp he stands up as you wrap your legs around him. He carries you toward your bedroom.

"Anything for my little scholar."

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gh0stbeeee · 6 months ago

Text

Thinking about ballet dancer Light.

Preteen Light choosing a sport and taking up ballet because he's always loved the grace, the power, and the emotion in the way the dancers move, because maybe this could be a momentary freedom for him, from the pointless competition that is his life.

Light being asked hundreds of times if he's sure, if he wants this, if this will distract him, if he can work hard enough to catch up to the other kids that have been doing this for years.

Light walking into a ballet class for the first time, one of the few boys, and leaving at the end ashamed at how clumsy he was in comparison.

Light working himself to the bone to catch up, for the first time determined to finish his homework as fast as he could because he found something he wants to really do, staying for hours at the little studio every day and leaving with screaming muscles and blisters on his feet.

Barely able to feel the pain in comparison to this burning passion he felt for the first time.

Quickly catching the attention of the teachers, they tell him if he keeps at it he will have a very promising future ahead of him.

He never tells Soichiro this might be more than just an extracurricular for university.

His first recital goes spectacularly, even though he was only a supporting role, he caught the eye of a recruiter from a prestigious ballet company who told his mother they would keep an eye on him, as his future was bound to be successful (his father was too busy to come.)

The drive home his silent, his face rubbed raw from removing the stage makeup in the bathroom before leaving, when Sachiko says she can talk with his father, if this is what he really wants to do.

Light smiles, saying he'll think about it more before they commit in the future.

The girls start learning on pointe, and Light is intrigued. His instructor says the boys can learn as well, and it would make them better dancers for it.

Light and one other boy agree.

It's an extra layer of work, the stiff shoes feel somehow too much and too little as he stands in a pair for his first fitting, alone as he hadn't told his parents.

But he feels a warm flutter in his chest when he sees himself in the mirror, on his toes like Odette in Swan Lake, his first ballet.

He takes to it even faster than when he'd started. Even when the basic lessons ended, he continued to dance on pointe in his own time. He learns the girls' lead choreography alongside the boys, who were mostly supports for the lead ballerina.

He adds his own twists on it, every movement he makes sharp yet graceful, makes it look effortless yet full of power.

His instructor is amazed, watches as he dances better than the girl who got the lead.

"It's such a shame," she says slightly regretfully, "if you were a girl, I think you would've had a real chance at being made a prima ballerina. That being said, at this rate, if you get picked up by a professional company, I'm sure you'd make premier danseur in no time." She laughs as she says it, a kind joke to highlight his incredible skills and potential, and Light laughs too.

When Light is fifteen, his school is putting on a production of Swan Lake.

And for a brief moment, his heart is over the moon, it has always been a dream of his to dance the ballet. It sinks immediately the next moment, when they call only for girls to audition for Odette and Odile.

He still puts his name in to audition for Prince Siegfried, he learns the choreography, but he can't stop himself from putting his pointe shoes back on and dancing Odettes parts when he is alone. Male point dancers were only used as a joke in classical ballet, he had no hope for the part, but for a while, he dreamed.

He danced Odette, and he danced Odile's Variation, twirled with more grace than a human should have, and he felt like he was flying.

It was after he'd perfected Prince Siegfried's parts to know, and danced Odette's death as his last run for the night, that as his fluttering wings stilled for the last time, he felt trapped again.

The audition was in a day. If he got the part, he was nearly guaranteed a spot in the nationally top company. And he would dance as a man was expected, and he would never dance on pointe on a stage.

He packed away his pointe shoes for the last time.

The next morning, the day before the auditions, he handed them his resignation from the school. He would never forget the despair on their faces when they looked into his eyes and saw that his passion had died. (He'd murdered it in cold blood.)

"Good." His father had said. "A healthy phase, but it was time to get serious about school. You made the right choice."

Light just smiled blankly. His mother pretended not to notice the tear stains on his face when she brought him some apples that night.

(It wasn't until midnight eyes, raven hair, and a chain that he danced again, twirling gleefully to hide the blood stains on his feathers as he showed the detective his old passion.)

#haha swan lake x death note symbolism go brrrrrr #this is how light became so dead inside #im probably adding this into death becomes him. danseur light is actually one of my favorite things #hi yes i do have dance trauma how did you know?#death note ballet au #ballet au #death note #light yagami #lawlight #implied at the end #drabble #plot bunny #fic idea #death note fic #death note fanfiction #death note drabble

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yourlastbraincell-kiwi · 1 year ago

Text

A/N: Don’t mind me, just tryna make Henry Hart fics for all you out there. This one is sad and I think a bit on the angst side.

Might be typos, be warned, but enjoy!

Pairing: Henry Hart x Reader

‼️PART TWO IS OUT‼️

Ring…

Ring…..

Ring…Ring….

‘Please leave your message after the beep..’

I sighed and clutched the phone tightly in my hand, as I spoke into the speaker phone. “Hey Henry, it’s me again. Where are you this is the third time your phone went to voicemail, just please call me.” I said, before hanging up and sat on my bed.

A soft knock could be heard on my bedroom door, before the person walks in, that person being my mother. “Still nothing?” She asked standing in the doorway. “Not even Charlotte? Jasper?”

I shook my head no, and she put a hand on my back. “I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want to but since he’s not answering his phone why not go over to his house? Ask his parents where he could be?”

“I would, but I don’t want to sound like a bother.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t, you just want to check on him. It’s a very special day for you too.” I nod in understanding, and stood up from my bed.

I have my mom a hug and thanked her, before grabbing my phone and left the house, heading over to his.

Not too long after I stood in-front of his house, and knocked on the door. To which his mom answered the door, “Sorry to bother, but do you know where Henry is?”

She shook her head ‘no,’ in response. “I thought he was with you.”

“No, he isn’t, I’ve been calling and texting. Nothing.” She furrowed her brows in confusion, before inviting me inside, calling her husband downstairs. “Have you seen Henry?”

“No, I thought he was with (Y/N).” He replied not having noticed me yet, until Siren pointed at me. “Oh… that’s not good, is it?”

She rolled her eyes before asking, if he could check Henry’s room for her. We sat in an uncomfortable silence, before he came downstairs. “He’s not here, but his window was open.”

‘His window?’ I thought, before standing up making a beeline to the front door.

“I think, I might know where he might be. I’ll give you guys a call.” They didn’t have a chance to respond, with how quickly I left the room.

It took a while, but I walked all the way to his job, ‘Junk n’ Stuff.’ I looked inside the window and it looked empty, it didn’t look like anyone was inside.

I tried opening the front door, and to my surprise, it was actually unlocked. I walked further into the store calling out Henry’s name. “Henry? Henry?? Are you here?”

No one was in the front of the store, so I walked behind the counter and obviously no one was there, but I looked away.

When I was just about to give up, I found something..

‘An evaluator behind the counter?’ I thought to myself. I didn’t know where it went or if it was even stable, but I was going to take my chances.

I pressed the button and waited for the elevator doors to open, and stepped in. I was pressed the down button it rapidly went down at an alarming rate and I fell to the elevator floor.

The elevator came to an abrupt stop, and I groaned.

‘This elevator definitely isn’t up to code.’ I sigh and stood up slowly, waiting for the doors to open.

I walk in and see a place, that I have never seen before. I scan the room, and to my surprise no one was here. I walked over to the camera/computer type thing, and reached down to press a button before I heard someone walking in.

I ran to hide behind the couch and waited.

“Come on, Schwoz. Do you really this’ll work?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“This is your third time trying to time travel, what makes you think this toaster with the antennas and tinfoil going to do?”

“It could, you just need to believe.”

“Keep trying, buddy.”

I listened in on their conversation, the guy I didn’t recognize, but the girl sounded a lot like Charlotte.

“Uhh..hello?” The guy said from behind clearly noticing that I was hiding.

“Who are you talking to?”

“This girl hiding behind the couch.” He said, and Char immediately went to check behind the couch and saw me crouched down.

“(Y/N)?” She asked and I stood up. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, I’ve been texting you, Jasper and Henry. What is going on? And where is he?”

“We’re back! You’ll never believe it, that movie was so good… oh man..” I seen Henry and Ray walk in from another exit in the room with buckets of popcorn and soda.

“Henry..” I exclaimed, furrowing my brows and folded my arms.

“It’s not me you’re sleepwalking and this is all a dream,” He says and started moving his hands in front of my face and I smacked his hands away.

“Henry!”

“Alright, I can explain.” He sighs, looking me in the eyes. “This a traveling circus and Schwoz is our Dumbo!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, at least let me be the clown, I have the outfit and everything!”

“Henry! The truth!”

“Okay! Okay. Truth is Ray and I, we’re Captain Man and Kid Danger.” He says.

“I already know that, Hen.” I replied and everyone had their eyes wide.

“You knew?!” They already screamed in unison, and I look at them as if they’re crazy.

“How could I not know?! You sound like Kid Danger, look like Kid Danger. Let’s not forget that you happen to disappear when they’re both in any form of Danger.” I replied watching as the others sat down at the table watching me and Henry over some half eaten popcorn.

“So, if you already know, then what did you want me to tell you?”

“You really don’t remember do you?” I asked, watching him scour his brain trying to figure out what today way. I take out my phone and show him a video of us when we made it official, a year ago.

“It’s our one year…” He mumbled, looking up from my phone, as Ray audibly went ‘oooo,’ as if he was watching a telenovela.

“And you ditched me for a movie? One you can see when it comes out on dvd and blu-ray?” I exclaimed.

“No!”

“Oh, yes he did, girl.” Ray said shoving popcorn in his mouth, as if it was more entertaining than the movie they watched.

“Not on purpose! I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

“You can’t just make up a first year. You only get one of those, and we didn’t get to celebrate it!”

“You tell him, girl.” Ray said, and Henry looked him trying to get him to stop. “Ray!”

I shake my head taking my phone from him, going back to the elevator, and stepped inside. “(Y/N) wait, please.”

“Not right now, please? I just want to go home.”

“Want me to walk you home?”

“I’ll be fine, I just need to be alone right now. I’ll let your parents know you’re okay.” I press the buttons to close the doors and rested my back again the one of the walls and took a deep breath.

I called Henry’s parents on the way home and let them know he was fine. As soon as I got to my home, I laid down on my bed. Ignoring anyone that tried talking with me, just waiting for sleep to overtake me.

#wattpad #x reader #black!reader #black!fem!reader #angst #black!writer #henry hart x reader #henry hart #henry danger #Henry hart x black!reader

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kjiscrawlingbackformore · 18 days ago

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Peace - Act III : Chapter ten

Lottie Matthews x fem!reader

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Reader comes back to her hometown and transfers to Wiskayok High School after getting expelled from her previous high school. Follows Junior year into Senior year, all the way up to the crash. (Eventual NSFW mdni)

Warnings: None

The steps were chipped and uneven, the kind that bit into your thighs if you sat too long, but you really didn’t care. Your legs were folded criss-cross, a stack of glossy college pamphlets in your lap, the late afternoon sun cutting across the porch like golden ribbon.

The street was quiet except for the occasional car rolling by or the distant sound of someone’s television spilling through a cracked window. Your aunt was out, who knows where doing God knows what. Your little brother was at a sleepover so you both had your weekly call earlier in the week. And Lottie was somewhere in Manhattan, doing business brunches and Broadway, probably—with her parents for the weekend.

It was the first time you had been truly alone in weeks. And for once, you didn’t hate it.

You turned a page in one of the pamphlets. Emerson. Syracuse. Northwestern. Rutgers. Places that felt like whole galaxies away from this town, from the cramped hallway you shared with an aunt who was unconscious most of the time, from the worn-out couch and the smell of smoke lodged deep in the wallpaper. Places with trees that turned orange in the fall and libraries that stayed open past midnight and dorms filled with strangers who didn’t know what you’d done before you got here.

You could go.

You could actually go.

A laugh caught in your throat, part wonder, part disbelief. You hadn’t let yourself imagine that kind of future before. Not really. Not seriously. And then, just as quickly, the hope curled inward, retreating like something startled. Because what about Lottie?

You wanted started to stand, wanting to call Lottie on instinct, then froze remembering Lottie had said she’d be busy all afternoon. Family stuff. Shopping, probably. Dinner with one of her dad’s clients. Nothing exciting. Nothing urgent.

But it was always urgent, somehow, with her and Lottie.

The kind of urgency you didn’t talk about in school hallways or crowded parties. The kind that made a simple glance across the cafeteria feel like a lifeline.

You stared down at the pamphlet in your hands. You didn’t even know where Lottie wanted to go to college. They hadn’t talked about it. They hadn’t really talked about any of it, the after. What came next? Would Lottie still want this? You? Across state lines? Through phone calls and missed visits and "we’ll figure it outs"?

Would she wait?

Would she have to?

You shook your head. You didn’t want to be another person expecting too much from Lottie. Didn’t want to turn her dreams into something heavy that Lottie had to carry. She’d already so much to carry. And you, well fuck, you’ve lost so much already. You didn’t think you could lose this too, not without completely unraveling. But you also couldn’t stay here. Not to keep something you might not be able to hold onto anyway.

You exhaled and gathered the pamphlets into a loose pile. The decision wasn’t made, not really—but it was beginning to shape itself. And if there was one thing you had learned this past year, it was that you don’t wait around for good things to last. You grab them before they’re gone, and you figure out how to keep them if you can.

The next morning, you walked into Mr. Weaver’s office, dark circles under your eyes and resolve settling in your gut like concrete.

“I need options,” you said, tossing the pamphlets onto his desk.

He raised a brow. “Good morning to you, too.”

You crossed your arms. “Give me the schools with the highest admission rates. The ones that look at second chances, and I can actually, you know, get into. I need to cast the net wide.”

Mr. Weaver leaned back in his chair, watching you with that unreadable expression you were starting to realize meant he was proud of you. “Someone is finally wanting to start her life.”

“I guess.”

“Have you discussed this with your aunt? Or maybe your grandparent? We can talk to some teachers to ask for recommendations-”

“-No, I don’t want to talk about this with a lot of people. I was thinking this could be like just us working together.”

Mr. Weaver paused, his eyebrows furrowing. “You’re a senior…talking about college is kinda part of the gig. It’s going to come up in conversation.”

You frowned, shaking your head, “I don’t care. Not everyone needs to know.”

He sighed, sitting up in his chair and giving you a once-over. “Going stealth-mode, huh?”

You shrugged. “Just don’t want to give anyone false hope. Or get my own hopes up.”

“Alright,” he said, already pulling up his computer. “But for the record, hope’s not a bad thing, Y/L/N. Let me put it in terms a journalist like you would understand. It’s just the first draft of faith.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded.

#lottie mathews x reader #yellowjackets #jackie yellowjackets #lottie yellowjackets #jackie taylor #van palmer #shauna shipman #shauna yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #lottie matthews x you #lottie matthews #yellowjacket

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crowsofdarkness · 6 months ago

Text

Moment Of Weakness: Seventeen

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066

Monday morning came before I was ready to face it but I knew that there wasn’t any way I would be able to stay home, avoiding my problems, for much longer. My mind had been jumbled with thoughts of Bucky and Steve which made my decision way harder than I would have liked it to be. What did help, however, was that I didn’t hear from either of them the last couple of days, both giving me space when I needed it most.

Now, the half block walk from where I parked my car to the office building gave me time to think even more about the two men.

Steve.

He was a breath of fresh air, something different and inviting. He never once judged me for what I was doing with Bucky. He never said he knew but didn’t have too. Steve was nice from day one when I started and our relationship grew slowly over time and it would be stupid not to give him a chance.

Bucky.

Bucky was everything that I had been wanting for so long, he’s the one that my heart yearns for when I’m not around him. He’s the one that I think of the second I put my head down for the night and the second I rise from the bed.

While there was chemistry when Steve and I kissed, it was alway different with Bucky.

My heart rate would accelerate, pounding all throughout my body while my knees would go weak, unable to stand. There was so much fire and intensity with something unknown hidden behind every one of Bucky’s kisses. I couldn’t explain it, it merely kept me wanting more.

However, there still was the fact that Bucky was married and unable to fully commit to me one hundred percent while Steve was ready to give himself to me; in more ways than one.

In the end, someone was going to get hurt and I was willing for it to be me so neither Bucky nor Steve would fall prey to it.

As I turned the corner, Barnes Industries coming into view, I felt a burning gaze at the back of my head which caused me to turn on my heels. Eyes scanned the busy street, other people getting ready to start their own work day, and when no one seemed out of place, I continued the short walk to the front door.

Only now, the burning intensified and I quickly spun around, this time catching a petite woman dart down the alley a couple feet away from me.

“What the fuck,” I muttered with furrowed brows.

When I turned back around, I collided with a large chest, feet stumbling back and I prepared myself to fall onto the concrete. Strong arms wrapped around me, catching me before I fell.

His eyes bored into mine and my body went rigid with fear.

“Cl-clint.” I stammered.

Clint helped me stand up straight and made a mockery of dusting my shoulders off.

“You should really watch where you’re going, Y/N. You never know who you might run into, literally.”

My lips were pulled in a straight line, too afraid to speak a word, and I did the best I could to move past him through the crowded streets. Two gazes were burning a hole into the back of my head but I didn’t bother to look back and see, knowing who one of them belonged to.

“Shit.”

“Oh fuck!”

A small scream fell from my lips when I collided with yet another body, only this one I felt safe in their embrace as his vibranium hand captured my lower back. Bucky’s blue eyes watching me with concern.

“Doll? Are you alright?”

I shook my head, blinking away a few tears that pooled in my eyes. Bucky looked around before pulling me further inside of the building, helping me sit in the chair at my desk.

He kneeled in front of me, placing a hand on my cheek. “Hey, what happened?”

“I felt as if someone was watching me when I was walking in. I got distracted trying to see who and ended up walking into Clint. There’s no way that he would be in your neighborhood for the hell of it, right?”

Bucky’s shoulders went rigid, a low scowl on his lips. “Only to scare you.”

I shook my head. “I thought you paid off the hit?”

“I did,” he nodded. “Maybe he’s trying to scare you.”

“Well, it worked,” I sniffled.

With both of his hands around the back of my neck, he placed a small kiss on my forehead, the action calming my shaking bones immediately.

“Maybe I should go home. He doesn't know where I live,” I said.

As soon as the words left my lips, I couldn’t help but question that statement. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he knew where I lived.

“I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here, that way I can make sure you’re safe,” Bucky replied.

I nodded, knowing he was right.

We stared at each other, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as Bucky began to lean in closer and even with the fire burning low in my abdomen, I let out a small cough to put some distance between us.

“I think I’m going to make some coffee, get my mind off what happened.”

“Sure,” Bucky gave me a forced smile and slowly pulled away. “I’ll be in my office and have the door open if you need anything.”

I didn’t bother to see the small look of hurt across his face as I removed myself from his grasp.

Who was that woman? Something about her screamed familiar but I never got a good look at her face.

I mulled those same thoughts in my mind as I stood in front of the coffee maker, teeth caught between my teeth, trying to figure out who that mystery woman was that darted into the alley when I caught her following me.

“Maybe she works with Clint,” I muttered to myself, pouring a rather large cup of coffee.

My third one in a few hours.

The morning slowly spilled into the early afternoon and I had done a great job in avoiding Bucky and Steve, not ready to face the latter. Though, I knew that at some point I would have to talk to him, to let him know how I felt.

“Hey,” a soft voice sounded behind me.

Fuck, I didn’t mean right now.

I sighed, giving Steve a small smile. “Hi.”

“Bucky told me what happened,” Steve said while running a hand through his hair.

“I’m okay,” I assured him, noticing how worried he was. “Clint didn’t hurt me.”

“I promise you, I paid him off. Bucky handed me the money and I brought it to Clint’s house. He gave me his word that the hit is off,” he assured me.

I gave him a firm nod. “Steve, you don’t need to prove yourself. I believe you.”

His shoulders relaxed a bit before I felt his fingers grasp at my own, pulling me towards his office. “Can we talk, in private?”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I knew that this conversation would happen eventually and now would be the best time to get it over with. No more avoiding it.

“Sure.”

I let Steve gently pull me into his office and once the door was closed, he motioned for the couch that sat in place on the other end of the room. We both sat, with some distance between us.

He ran a hand over his beard and let out a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize. You’re going through a lot right now and I shouldn’t have added more by kissing you.”

I place a hand on his knee. “I wanted that kiss just as much as you did, Steve.”

His face brightened. “You did?”

“Yeah. We’ve been doing this dance for months now, it was only a matter of time.”

Steve sighed. “But-.”

My heart stung when I realized he had a hint of what I was going to say, his tone of voice sounding so broken.

This time I linked our hands together. “I don’t think it’s fair to you to be with you if I’m not 100 percent committed to you. You don’t deserve that.”

Steve’s blue eyes twinkled under the light from his office. “But you do?”

I blinked, a bit caught off guard, and didn’t know how to answer him only because he was right. Why did I deserve to be with someone that wasn’t committed to me?

“I can’t explain it,” I admitted with a shrug. “There’s something about him that it’s hard to let go.”

Steve lifted my chin when I looked down ashamed. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Y/N. I’m used to losing girls to Buck.”

“Do you hate me?” I asked with a shaky breath.

“I could never hate you.”

We gazed into each other's eyes and even with the magnetic pull I felt bringing me in closer to him, I fought against it by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“You’re a good man, Rogers,” I breathed against his skin.

The bright glow of the moon spilled through the large windows of the building and with a low breath, I packed up my things purposely taking my time. I had to leave, go home for the night, but I was afraid of walking to my car alone with what happened this morning.

Steve had left a few hours ago, with a quick wave but broken eyes, and it did nothing to mend the hurt I felt in my stomach. It made me sick, knowing I caused him that pain.

I glanced over to the office behind me, the man lounging on his couch with his head resting against the back of it, eyes shut in quiet solace.

We spent the majority of the day avoiding each other but now that I needed to ask him a huge favor, I wasn’t quite sure on how Bucky would answer.

A gentle tap sounded on the frame of his door causing him to open his eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“Headed out?” Bucky nodded to my purse and jacket.

I nodded. “I know I’ve been avoiding you all day so feel free to say no.”

With his own nod, I continued. “Would you mind walking me to my car?”

“Of course, doll.”

Bucky’s smile warmed my heart and I waited patiently as he slipped on his leather jacket. “Ready?”

“Yea,” I smiled.

The cold night air wrapped around us and I made an effort to bring my jacket closer to me, in hope of creating some sort of heat. Bucky noticed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder to pull me closer. The warmth that radiated from him quickly spread to my own body and I silently moaned at the feeling.

“Bucky?”

My voice was quiet but he still heard, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “You alright, doll?”

We came to a stop in front of my car and I avoided leaving; not before telling him exactly how I felt about everything.

My palm rested against his cheek, his plump lips pressing a kiss upon the skin there and the butterflies that laid dormant the last few days began to flutter to life.

“I don’t want to get hurt,” I said.

Bucky nodded in my grasp. “I don’t want to hurt you, doll.”

“I like you a lot, Bucky.”

He quickly brought me closer to him, our nose grazing against one another.

“The feelings are mutual.”

His voice was deep which made my core itch with desire.

Bucky began digging around in his pocket and placed a small, white card in my hand. As the words burned into my brain, my lips curled up in a smile.

Matt Murdock. New York’s Best Divorce Lawyer.

“A divorce?” I questioned, with so much optimism.

He answered my question by capturing our lips together, his own feeling so soft and tasted like the bourbon I saw him drink earlier in the night. Our bodies molded together, as they always did, and I nibbled on his bottom lip when he pulled away.

“I’m hoping by the end of the month she’ll be served with the papers.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “You’re really leaving her?”

Vibranium fingers tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “For you, Y/N. I’d do anything for you. The mere thought of possibly losing you to Steve was a wake up call. I can’t lose you and I will do anything to keep you.”

Our lips met in yet another heated kiss, Bucky pushing me up against the cold metal of my car and I looped my fingers into the belt loops of his pants to bring him closer to me, needing that reminder of how his cock felt pressed against me.

We were so engrossed in each other, our possible future together, that neither of us felt the burning eyes from the figure that lingered in the darkness.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #mob!bucky barnes and yn #moment of weakness bucky barnes

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intoanotherworld23 · 1 year ago

Text

Forbidden Fruit

Summary: Working for the Millers as their children’s babysitter has been the best job you’ve had, but the only problem is your massive crush on Joel.

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Warnings: nothing major just some kissing, making out, sexual tension, cheating, infidelity, thoughts of sex, mention of female masturbation, age gap

A/N: Let me know what you guys think so far comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. If you wish to be tagged for this please let me know and I’ll be sure to add you! Thanks so much everyone! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

It was wrong. All of it. Every single second. Every single thought. Always bowing your head in shame every time you so much as even pictured him shirtless.

Feeling your eyes tearing up in embarrassment as you felt more pathetic each time you touched yourself to the thought of him touching you or kissing you. Your feelings were never meant to become this strong. It was only a crush.

Obsessing over him more every time you looked at him. Suddenly feeling shy as soon as he entered into the room. Every smile or kind word thrown your way you were head over heels. Silently praying to yourself that maybe those words would turn into something more one day.

Wondering to their bedroom laying on his side so you could smell his scent on the pillow. Inhaling his musky and sandalwood cologne that lingered in the fabrics. Picturing what it would be like to wake up beside him every morning. Imaging him kissing all over your face and pulling your body closer to his.

He was married for crying out loud, and you babysat his kids. Plus he was older than you and was all together out of your league. It was just a temporary crush, and one day you'd forget about him and never seen this man ever again in your life. Chances are he doesn't even give you second glances each time you show up, and early might you add.

His wife surely was suspicious by now or could at least tell how just in love with this man you were. She was gorgeous and probably had men falling to their knees over her. She had to know all about what it was like to crush hard over someone, and could see the obvious signs.

If she did know she hasn't said anything or even hinted that she knew. Instead she gave you warm smiles and plain compliments.

Their kids loved you or couldn't wait for the days you would come over. Constantly bugging them to have you over just so they could play with you. In fact his wife felt at times envious over her own kids adoring you. You knew what she was thinking, but never once did she ever show it on her face. She hid it behind a polite smile.

You paid more attention to her kids than she ever did. In fact one night they confessed they wished you were their mom instead of her. At first it warmed your heart at the thought of being the mother of his kids.

Then just as quickly you pushed that thought down, and told them never to say that ever again. In fear of what the mother would say.

Scrolling through your phone as the seconds ticked by. Having already put the kids to bed now you just waited for the happy couple to show up so you could leave and head back to your pathetic excuse of an apartment.

Hearing the roar of an engine outside the house indicating they were back, and a little early too. Usually they were out well past midnight, and it wasn't even ten yet. This was really odd, and you scrunched your face in confusion. Gathering your things slowly as you possibly could not ready to leave yet.

Standing up only to hear the door open aggressively, and a red faced Joel walk through the door. Judging by the silence and rigid body language something happened tonight.

He loosened his day like he had a long day at the office. His wife not far behind him as he pushed past him neither one of them looking at you or each other.

Watching as she practically sprinted upstairs with her makeup smeared down her cheeks, and heading towards the kids room. Something clearly happened and you didn't want to press especially since it really wasn't your business.

"Hi you guys are home early."

"My whore of a wife is taking the kids to her parents house for a couple nights."

That certainly wasn't the sort of response you expected from him as you stood there in place unsure of what to say. His words being said loud enough in the hopes she heard. Watching as he slammed the door shut grumbling to the kitchen pouring himself a glass of scotch downing it in one shot.

As much as you wanted to run over to him and comfort him it wasn't your place. Rocking back and forth on your heels feeling awkward at what you should say or do at this point.

Hearing shuffling upstairs as drawers were being opened and closed. The kids were crying out breaking your heart at the sound.

"Mr. Miller? Is everything all right?"

Before he could respond his wife descended down the stairs with a couple bags and her kids trucking behind her.

"Say good night to your daddy kids."

Watching as they ran right into his arms hugging them tightly like it was the last time he might ever see them.

Unable to hear what he was saying to them as he kissed them on the cheeks, and patted their heads in comfort hating to seek them like this. He wanted them to stay with him instead, but right now he really wanted to be alone, and he didn't want to accidentally take his anger out on them.

"I love you both so much."

Was the last thing he could say to them before she grabbed them and shoved them out the door. You hadn't moved from your spot the whole time. You don't even think you blinked once since they first came through the door.

This is the last thing you expected to happen when they came home. In fact this was probably the last time you'd have to babysit for them. Which means you'd probably never see Joel again.

It was selfish of you to think like that especially since something very serious happened between the couple.

"I'm sorry." He whispered as he turned to face you this time.

"It's okay Mr. Miller."

"No it's not okay. None of this is okay." His fingers combing back his hair all in distress.

"Mr. Miller this is really none of my business."

"Please stay for just a few minutes."

"Okay." Hesitating on your answer unsure if you should involve yourself in what clearly was a personal matter.

"The whole night was going so perfectly. We were having a good time and things couldn't have been going better."

Walking over to you then shuffling his feet to the couch throwing himself down his shoulders shrugged down. A look of disbelief across his face, and he tried to find the right words to say or explain what happened.

"Then she told me that she was having an affair with a man she worked with. That she was happier with him than she was with me."

You could tell he was heart broken over the whole thing. Feeling like his whole world was crashing down around him. All he wanted to do was just cry, and drink until he was numb. Just wanting to feel something other than heartbreak and pain.

Staring deep into your eyes not realizing how beautiful you actually were. Baffled that he never took notice of you before.

How soft your skin looked, and how luscious your lips were shaped. Everything about you looked perfect, and suddenly his spirits were feeling lighter.

Watching his eyes drifting from your lips to between your eyes. Something was happening between you two, but you didn't exactly know what was going on.

It was like Joel was contemplating what he wanted to do. Trying to decided if you'd indulge him or smack him across the face, and never speak to him again.

"Mr. Miller?"

"Call me Joel." He whispered as he started to lean forward.

"Please don't hit me for doing this."

Wasting no time in pressing his lips against yours. Once he felt you start to relax he moved his lips against yours. Turning his head to the side as a hand came up and caressed the side of your face.

Feeling your lips tingle as you cocked your head towards the opposite side. Your entire body felt like it was floating in the air. From Joel's lips pressed against to his hands touching your face. Both of you knew it was wrong, but neither one of you cared.

Either one of you cared about was each other. It had been too long since you or him felt like this. Something that both of you missed, and needed in your life.

It was like a heat wave rushed across your body, and you could feel this immense pressure between your legs. No doubt there would be a wet spot there. Joel would discover it soon enough.

His body pushing you back so your head was resting on the arm rest, and you moved both of your legs onto the couch. Joel hovering above you as he kept his lips on yours.

Making out with him on the couch his hands moved down to your hips. Grinding his body down on top of yours feeling his erection poking between your legs. His pants were incredibly tight, and he wanted to get out of his clothes soon as possible.

"Is this okay?" Hands gripping the top of your pants ready to pull them down.

"Absolutely."

Smirking as he quickly pulled them down your legs dropping them to the floor. Licking his lips when he took notice of the lace panties you were wearing.

"You sure you want this?" Nodding your head eagerly as you grabbed his face and gave him a hard kiss.

"Please I want this."

"God you drive me crazy baby."

Hands reaching up so Joel could lift your shirt over your head. Laying there in nothing but your matching bra and panties. You were like a gift wrapped in a bow under his gaze. He couldn't wait to open you up.

Your hands covering yourself up feeling self conscious under his hungry gaze. It was like you were under a bright light being watched. Joel shaking his head at what you were doing.

"Don't cover yourself up sweetheart." Moving your hands out of the way. "You're so gorgeous."

His hands were warm against your skin. His touch was like a magnetic pull, and you couldn't help but be tugged in. It was a long time coming of frustration and tension. Both of you needed this more than you realized.

Before anything else could happen his phone went off making both of you jump. Leaning his head forward onto your chest with a loud groan. Sighing heavily at what would have happened if the phone didn't go off.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Snarling as he got up and walked over to where his laid his phone down. Leaning up as you watched him answer the phone his tone clearly not happy.

"What?"

There was some muffled voice on the other end of the phone. Rubbing his hand down his face in frustration. This was the last thing that he needed to deal with.

Hearing him start to argue with whoever was on the other end. If only this person knew what they had just interrupted. He might not have answered it, but it could have been an important call.

"Can't you get someone else to come in?"

Joel was a very well known doctor, and was brilliant and good at what he did. People from different parts of the world came to see him. His hours could range at any time even in the middle of the night.

"Jesus christ I'll come in." Ending the call as he set his phone down.

There were tears pricking in the corner of yours eyes. The sexual frustration was almost at an unbearable level. You were like a pot of water that was about to boil over, and any moment you would blow.

"Hospital?"

"Yeah." Bowing his head as he shuffled his feet over to you. "I'm so sorry."

"No it's okay I've gotta get back home anyway."

Feeling incredibly awkward and uncomfortable as you sat there half naked. Joel was ashamed if he would glance at your body again. Trying to find something else to look at. The reality of what you two almost just did hitting him.

"Look," standing in front of you now when you were completely dressed,"what just happened can’t happen again."

"I know."

"Not that I didn't want to cause believe me I want to so bad." Hands softly grabbing your arms as he looked deep into your eyes.

"It's just that-."

"The wife." Interrupting him already knowing what he was going to say.

Maybe he was using her as an excuse to not sleep with you. Not wanting to give into his carnal desires that were clawing at the cage. It was confusing for both of you neither one of you had done this before.

He thought about just jerking himself off until the feeling washed away. Hoping that maybe the lust would go away, and that this wouldn't happen again.

"Am I fired?" Blurting out before you could stop yourself.

"Probably not." Shrugging his shoulders as he responded. "Depends on the wife, well soon to be ex wife."

Which was true cause if you knew any better, she would try to fight for full custody. Since he was working all the time, and wouldn't have that much time with the kids. His kids were his life, and he couldn't lose them.

"Well I'm always available if you need me."

"I know thank you Y/N."

Grabbing your hands in his as he smiled warmly at you. Deep down he was hoping that he didn't make you so he could keep seeing you, and maybe continue what you two were doing. He wanted it so much more than what you realized.

Dropping his hands from yours as you grabbed your things, and took a quick note of the time. It was getting really late, and right now you needed to lay down and clear your head.

"Good night Mr. Miller."

"Joel." Giving you that friendly reminder as you just smiled at him.

"Joel." Repeating his name like liquid honey dripping from your mouth.

"Good night."

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