#have you guys noticed I stopped colouring yet?
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sandeewithtwoe · 10 months ago
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Hey, if requests are open, may I request inkmare please?
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The first time I heard of this ship was from a fanfic and they used the name “vanta black” and honestly that’s such a cool ship name ngl
Also sorry for answering late I was focusing on school lol
Ink belongs to comyet/myebi
Nightmare belongs to Jokublog
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mauvecherie-writes · 3 months ago
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when in london: j.scipio
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• rating: NSFW 18+ mature
• pairing: jacob scipio x black!reader
• w.c: 4.7K
• summary: a spontaneous decision led to a passionate evening.
• warning: corny flirting, meet-cute, dual pov, fluff, sexual content: pwp, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, oral sex [f!receiving], brief handjob, Jacob talking you through it energy.
• tips: kofi | paypal – please if you can 🫶🏾.
[Jacob]
The roaring of laughter and buzzing of accumulated chatter was all around you as you tried to focus your eyes on the foods menu that was in front of you. A small frown was etched on your features as you contorted your glossed lips to the side as if you were concentrating on the words of the menu as if it was a study on the arts of culinary.
If he hadn’t been so enamoured by your beauty as you passed him by, he certainly was now. Feeling his staring tittering on the line of being uncomfortable if you caught him, he adjusted his cap and decided to approach you instead.
Typically, Jacob was a man who was able to admire a beautiful woman from afar and continue on his way. However, there were times such as now, where his body felt compelled to act. All he needed was a smile and he would be content.
[You]
There were so many options to choose from and you had been struggling to narrow it all down to only two options. If you had more time, you would have tried to sample as much you can, especially the perfectly curated chef’s specials.
You were so engrossed in exploring the menu that you did not notice someone approach.
“Forgive me for intruding darling but it seems like you’re having some trouble making a decision.” A low and deep voice came from beside you. Immediately, your body stood alert, ready to dismiss whoever it was. However, all fight left you when your eyes collided with the most gorgeous pair of hooded brown eyes that you had ever encountered. Even with the stone-brown coloured cap on, you could note that his head was covered in rich, dark locks and his full beard was neatly trimmed. But it was the small smile on his fully plump lips that had your guard completely crumbling.
He was devastatingly handsome and the fact that he had approached you because he noticed you were taking a little longer than usual when reading the menu had you slightly flushed with embarrassment.
“Yeah.” You sheepishly chuckled as you placed the menu down. “The hotel changes their menu with the seasons, but it seems this time around, all of my staples have either been removed of have had their recipe changed.”
“So now you’re being left with choosing something different.”
You nodded your head in agreement. “Normally, I would have taken this opportunity to just sample as much as I could, but I have to be at an event in about three hours, so I don’t want to over do it.”
The stranger’s smile widened, and you could physically feel your heart swooning.
“May I sit?” He asked.
“Please.” You gestured to the bar stool that was beside you and he took the seat. You couldn’t help but let your eyes travel down his body and noted what he was dressed in. An olive green long-sleeved linen shirt over a white vest that was tucked into what looked like blue Levi denim jeans. When you brought your eyes back to his face, his features felt familiar.
“I feel like I know you from somewhere.” You commented.
“Trust me sweetheart, if we had met before this moment – you would remember who I was.” He smirked. You playfully rolled your eyes, dismissive of his words yet inwardly admitting how they wanted to make you giggle.
“Ha. Ha.” You sarcastically said. “No, like a movie or something but I can’t remember what.”
“I’m an actor.” He spoke. “I’ve been in a couple of things over the past few years. I will say it’s early days of my career though.”
Suddenly, you gasped. “You act as that cute guy in the new Bad Boys films.” You said before you could stop yourself.
Your comment caused him to burst out laughing. “I would prefer Jacob, but I don’t mind being called cute too.” He winked at you which caused your cheeks to warm.
“I’ll stick to Jacob.” You replied as you put forth your hand as you gave you gave him your name in return. “I didn’t know that you were British.”
“Islington born and raised,” Jacob’s face held a sense of pride. “And I can tell from your accent that you’re Northern, but I can’t exactly pinpoint where.”
“A lot of people say that.” You smiled. “But I am from Manchester. The years spent at boarding school wouldn’t take away that twang no matter how much my parents tried.”
“Thank god it didn’t.” Jacob mumbled. You bit your tongue to stop the girlish giggle that wanted to spill out of your mouth.
“Anyway, didn’t you approach me because you wanted to help me choose what to eat?”
“Right.” He nodded his head. “Let’s take a look at this then.” You shared a look, smiling at each other before you passed the menu towards him.
[Jacob]
Your smile was breathtaking.
As much as your conversation was full of marvel and increasing interest, he couldn’t help but always be drawn back to your smile and the joyous sound of your laughter. Your mind was like a labyrinth of knowledge, he had come to find out. You were naturally inquisitive by nature, and it was a quality of that he was beginning to be fond of.
Jacob helped you in choosing a starter of sauteed scallops with garlic butter, lemon and with a parsley garnish. Then for your main entre, a lobster thermidor with a side of truffle fries. As an effort to impress you, he ordered a bottle of vintage Veuve Clicquot Rose. A favourite of yours that you had admitted that you only ordered once in a full moon.
On the last pour of the champagne, you had the softest pout on your lips.
“A good bottle like that is meant to softly enjoyed and we finished it all in an hour and a half.” You commented.
“Well sweetheart. How about, when you come back from your event, I’ll be here, waiting to finish this conversation with another bottle. How does that sound?” Jacob boldly asked you. At some point during your dinner, you had detailed that you had come down to London because you had been invited to an album release party of a friend. However, as the night progressed, the more that he was enjoying spending time in your presence, and he could tell that you felt the same.
“Actually, what are you doing with the rest of your evening?” You asked him as you nervously chewed on your bottom lip. Jacob leaned forward and brought his elbows onto the table.
“What do you have in mind darling?” He raised his eyebrow as he watched you also lean closer, and you placed your hands underneath your chin.
“What do you think about joining me for the rest of the night?” Jacob couldn’t help but grin at your question. He didn’t understand why you were so nervous to ask as he had been feeling the same. Jacob had not wanted this night to end just with sharing dinner hence why he had decided to leave things open ended with his invitation. He was staying on the floor above you, and he had conjured up a plan in his mind to use his small, heated pool that was on his balcony to his advantage when you came back from your event.
And now, you had answered his silent prayers.
“For you I’d do anything.” He answered which caused your eyes to slightly widen as a glint of mischief settled in your eyes. It wasn’t there for long, but it lingered long enough for him to catch it.
“Don’t say that to me.” You hid your glee behind biting your lip.
“And why is that?” He cocked his head to the side.
“Because I require a lot and you saying that you’ll do anything for me is just being a tease.” You confessed as you dropped your hands and reached for your champagne flute and brought it to your lips.
“If you tell me to do something, I’ll do it. I can handle you.” He licked his lips before a small smirk pulled on his face. The expression of desire that momentarily passed you was all that he needed.
Your fate had been sealed in that very moment.
[You]
The entire car ride to the event, all you kept thinking about was how incredibly spontaneous and probably stupid your actions were. Had you discussed this with your best friends, they most likely would have talked you out of inviting Jacob. You had just met the man, shared a long conversation over an impromptu dinner and now he was your plus one to a closed event. Yeah, your friends would have been screaming and throwing all types of cautionary flags your way.
And yet, the hopeful romantic within you simply couldn’t ignore how much of a spark was ignited between you and Jacob. The way your conversation just flowed from topic to topic. He didn’t seem put off by your ramblings of your multiple interests, in fact, he would courage you more by asking questions and it left you feeling giddy.
So, you were leaving it to chance. Sharing this night with this perfect stranger and if it turned into something, even better but if it ended with just tonight then so be it. You were going to enjoy the time you spent with each other.
When you arrived at the event, Jacob offered his arm for you to link with and you gladly took it. He leaned down and whispered in your ear.
“I know I’ve said this already, but you look absolutely stunning tonight.” His words and his breath brushing against your ear sent a shiver down the length of your spine.
“Thank you.” You replied cooly as you looked at him. Then you tried to focus on walking on steady feet past the crowds of fans outside of the venue. You waved at some people who shouted your name as they recognised you from your large social media platform. Once you were in the building, you ventured your way through the crowd towards your friend, who was stationed by the DJ booth.
You shared a tight hug and when she pulled away from you, she eyed Jacob, who was behind you talking to someone he seemed familiar with.
“And who is that gentleman with you?” She playfully wiggled her eyebrows which caused you to giggle.
“He’s my date for the evening.” You vaguely explained. She gave you a knowing smirk.
“Okay girl, I see you. He’s cute.” She winked and in turn, you rolled your eyes even though a small smile was on your face. After a few more greetings, you went back to Jacob who was now holding onto two glasses.
“I got you a Paloma. I hope that’s okay.” He said as he handed you the beverage.
“That’s perfect, thank you.” You took a sip and savoured the taste, humming softly as the flavours burst on your tongue. You hadn’t realised your eyes had closed until you opened them and met Jacob’s gaze. It was intense and it left you flustered. You wanted to avert your attention to somewhere else but like a compulsion, it held you captive.
“So, I saw you talking to some people.” You sparked conversation.
“Yeah, I’ve bumped into some people I’ve met within the industry.”
“I forget how much music and film intertwine.”
Jacob nodded his head in agreement. “Especially if it’s people who are behind the scenes. We just pick what job you can get and do so you meet a lot of people. I tend to make it a point to learn people’s names and get along with them. In the industry, your reputation gets you a lot further than people think.”
“It’s the same with content creation. I try to do the same even if I never meet some of the same people again but it’s that word of mouth that can open doors for you.”
“Exactly.” Just as he was about to continue further, the DJ started playing Alibi by Sevdaliza.
“Oh, this is my song!” You exclaimed. “Come dance with me.” You did not give him a chance to answer as you grabbed his empty hand dragged him towards the dance floor with him chuckling behind you.
[Jacob]
He was trying to be a gentleman.
He really was.
He stood by your side the entire event, bought all your drinks and danced with you – keeping his hands in the appropriate places.
However, as your friend’s sultry music blasted through the speakers, the more your inhibitions faltered. You were pressed against him – back to his chest with your head on his shoulder with one arm thrown over his head. At this point, his cap was backward so that he could get closer to you. His hands were still by his side as he swayed along with you to the melodious music.
“You can touch me you know.” You mumbled into his ear. His light chuckle vibrated against your skin which made you shiver, and he felt it.
“I was trying to be respectful.” He replied.
“There you go again with your teasing language.” He saw the corners of your mouth lift and your body shake with light laughter. “Tell me what you really wanted to say.”
Jacob took in a deep breath and let one hand come to your waist. “I didn’t want to touch you because I knew once I felt your skin beneath my fingertips, I wouldn’t be able to stop touching you.”
“Hmmm, you say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Because it is, sweetheart. I’m a hard man to get rid of.” His hand trailed up your stomach and settled just beneath your breast, the other came to the exposed part of your skirt and he heard your gasp. The sound made his chest swell with pride. “Turn around.”
Your body immediately shifted in his arms. You pressed your forehead against his and he rested his hands on the lower part of your back and pulled you closer into his body.
“Permission to speak freely.” He mumbled lowly but you heard him clearly and his statement made you giggle.
“Permission granted.”
“I’ll admit that as soon as you entered the lobby, I noticed you and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from you. Everything about your aura just captivated me and there was this pull, and I couldn’t ignore it. Then I saw you with your cute little pout as you read the menu, I just knew I had to talk to you.”
“I’m glad you did.”
Then you softly continued to dance, your bodies close as the music consumed you, but your scent engulfed him. Everything about you was hard to ignore and the more he felt your body, the harder it was to suppress his desires. Then you moved your leg so that it was in between his and he couldn’t stop you in time to feel the physical manifestation of his yearning.
You lifted your eyes to meet his. The carnal pools of ardour, so strong that sank deep into his veins, he held you by the neck to stop himself from devouring you right then and there.
“Take me back to the hotel.” You whispered against his lips.
[You]
By the time you arrived back at the hotel, your body was charged. You felt like you were on fire and the only person that could out it out was walking beside you with his arm around your waist. Then you slowly came to a halt in front of the hotel room door.
“You got the key?” He mumbled the question into your ear. You bit your lip, nodding your head as you brought the card out. Jacob shifted so that he was standing behind you. A shiver ran down your back and settled in your abdomen as his hands rubbed on the sides of your waist.
“Do you need me to open the door baby?” He softly spoke into your ear.
“No.” You cleared your throat as you swiped the card and the door unlocked. As you entered further into the room, the only lights that were on were the dimly lit lamps and whilst you could tell that that it was a beautiful suite, you were focused on the man that was behind you.
Jacob left you standing in the open space as he made sure that the door was locked and then he made his way back to you.
“Want me to put some music on?” He muttered. You shook your head from side to side in response. “What do you want?”
“I want you to kiss me.” You whispered. He closed the space that was in between you and cradled your face in the palms of his hands. You giggled as he stared down at you with a darkened gaze that held so much promise. You leaned up and grazed his bottom lip which caused the corner of his mouth to quirk upwards and you were not ashamed to feel the hunger that was bubbling to the surface. Without waiting for another moment, Jacob leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.
The feel of his mouth against yours was so much better than you imagined. His lips were so soft but his motion was forceful as he took control, kissing you as if your breath was his last. You moaned into the kiss as his hands travelled down your back to your ass. The softest whimper left your lips as he cupped and kneaded the rounded flesh.
“I like the sound of that.” Jacob whispered as he took off his cap and threw it on the ground before he moved to discarding his linen shirt. Just as your cropped t-shirt was off your body, he pulled you back into his body and captured your lips once more. “Jump.” He mumbled against your lips and you followed his instruction.
When you got to the bed, Jacob softly laid you down, never parting from the burning kiss that was melting you from the inside out. Passion controlled your moment as you stripped each other bare until you were left in just your underwear. You barely had any time to marvel at his physique before his body was covering yours again, landing his lips on yours once more before he turned his attention to your neck as he covered your chest with his large hands. Jacob flicked your nipples with his thumbs causing you to moan and arch into his palms.
“That feels so good.” You moaned and your eyes flattered open just enough to catch his smirk. Without words, he answered you by trailing lips further down onto your chest until one of your nipples was in his mouth and he suckled on it. He soothed the acute pain from the sucking with a flattened tongue and then he moved his mouth to your other nipple. The stimulation caused something fierce to pool in between your thighs. You squirmed beneath him as he paid beautiful attention to your chest. One nipple in your mouth and the other was kept trapped in between his fingers.
As your desire began to dampen your thighs, your need for friction was increasing. So you pushed him away and you softly kissed him as you ran your fingers down the contours of his torso until you wrapped your hand around the base of his girth. Jacob groaned as you tugged at him. He felt so hard, warm and thick in your palm and your mouth was salivating for a taste.
Just as you were about to shift downward, Jacob took your hand away from his dick and pushed you back until your back was on the sheets. He was on his knees in between your parted legs and you were finally able to look over his wonderful stature. His smooth, golden tanned skin. His chiselled, muscular build. He was perfectly sculpted and he was all yours.
Fuck, you were getting wetter just looking at him.
Your walls clenched around nothing as he placed chaste kisses on your stomach. “Tell me what you need Sweetheart.” He breathed against your skin.
You lifted your upper body onto your elbows and looked down at him. Those dark, hooded eyes were staring back up at you as he grabbed your ankle and lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed the other wider apart, taking in your glistening pussy. He unconsciously licked his lips as his fingers began to explore, parting your lips, letting the cool air in the room brush against you. You gasped as his thumb pressed on your swollen nub and you nearly buckled but you kept steady.
“You haven’t told me yet.” He taunted with a devilish smirk on his face as his fingers didn’t stop their exploration.
“I want you to eat my pussy Jacob.” You breathlessly let out as your wetness coated his fingers.
“Good girl.” He murmured with a wink before he dropped his head and pt his lips on exactly where you needed him the most.
You were not prepared for the way his tongue felt against your clit. Just as he did to your nipples, he did to your sensitive bud, adding the flick of his tongue.
“Oh fuck!” You moaned as your eyes closed and you fell back onto the pillow. Your hand shot down and ran through his black curls, pulling him closer to your hot core.
He paid attention to what was making you moan, what was making you sigh and what was causing your back to arch. He paid attention to your pleasure and that turned you on even more.
“You taste so good, baby.” Jacob groaned into you. As the vibration travelled through you, he pushed two fingers into your pussy and a sob broke out of you. Your hips rocked into his mouth as he curled his digits just enough to brush against your perfect spot. Your hands moved away from his body and gripped on the sheets as you panted. Your skin was beginning to dampen with your sweat as your orgasm quickly rose within you.
“Baby I’m gonna –.” You gasped a your hips moved faster with the pace of his fingers. The burn of his beard against your cunt added onto the sensation. “Right fucking there!”
Jacob didn’t move from the position that he was in.
You didn’t know if it was the way he was sucking and flicking his tongue on your clit or the accumulation of it all but your eyes scrunched shut as you finally climaxed. The intensity of it was so overwhelming, for a moment, all you could hear was white nose and the sound of your racing heart.
In your haze, you hadn’t felt the bed shift until Jacob came back. You felt his fingers against your cheek and then you opened your eyes.
“You okay?” He softly asked as if he had not just given you one of the best orgasms of your life.
“I’m more than okay.” You mumbled with a grin. Slowly, you opened your eyes to the picture of lust staring down at you. Hovering above you, Jacob leaned down and kissed you, pushing his tongue into your mouth. The reminisce of your essence, lingering on his lips. So dirty and had your pussy pulsating.
You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth which caused him to groan. As the kiss deepened with more frenzy, he climbed back on top of you. With your focus on his mouth, you heard the rustling of a packet. You pulled your mouth away long enough to watch Jacob rip the condom packet open and put it on.
Once he was done, he brought your legs to his waist.
“You ready for me, baby?” He asked.
“Mhm.” With a soft peck to your lips, he guided himself into you.
You both shared a moan.
“Oh my god.” Jacob was stretching every inch of you, the deeper he sank in. You were trying to keep your eyes open, to savour his reaction but he just felt so good.
“Baby.” You whimpered. He took your knee and put your leg back onto his shoulder which sunk him even deeper.
“So fucking tight.” He moaned. You watched his face for his reactions. The slight furrow of his eyebrows, the droplets of sweat beginning to slide down his forehead, the slight parting of his lips as he focused on his strokes.
“Please.” You whispered as you clenched around him.
“I knew you’d be perfect.” He mumbled against your lips. Jacob slowly pulled out and gave you one hard thrust. Your eyes widened with a loud gasp escaping you as he repeated the action.
A scream left you as he slowly set the pace of his strokes.
As the waves of pleasure rippled through your body, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoed through the room.
“Uuuhhh.” You choked on your whines as he pounded harder into you. You couldn’t shake the feeling of him burying himself inside so deep of you, over and over. The arousal overshadowed the pain of the stretch of his girth – the bittersweet feeling leaving you in a dizzy spell.
“Look at me.” Jacob growled as he put your other leg onto his shoulder and dug deeper. Through blurry vision, you looked at the man above you.
You had expected Jacob to be an expert lover but you never thought that he would be so dominating.
He hit one of your spots which caused your eyes to cross.
“There you go.” He licked his lips, chuckling. “Tell me how it feels.”
“So big…” You moaned
“Mhm.”
“So fucking deeep.”
“You’re so fucking wet baby, I gotta make sure I don’t slip out.”
“Oh shhiitt.” You whined, a loud moan quickly following after as he increased the pace. In your delirious state, you managed to catch him grinning down at you.
“Baby!” You hisses as you wrapped your hands on his wrists that were on either side of your head.
“You should have picked up on it now sweetheart, you gotta tell me what you want.”
His hips were moving faster, the slapping of his thighs against yours added more stimulation to your clit.
“I need to come.” You whimpered.
“You need to or you’re going to?”
“I’m going to come!”
“That’s it.” He leaned down, folding you even more so that he could kiss you. Jacob moved your legs from his shoulders and held them apart spread-eagle, giving you slower and longer strokes with an added roll to his hips. His tip was smoothly rubbing against your sweet spot.
The tightness in your stomach quickly took hold and your legs began to tremble. You wee left breathless at the overwhelming intensity of the ecstasy building inside of you.
“I can feel it coming, baby. You’re squeezing me so nice and tight.” Jacob groaned as his eyes rolled softly. “You gonna come for me?’ He asked. But you were too far gone to give a verbal answer so you just frantically nodded her head.
The tight coil quickly snapped and your body seized.
“That’s a good girl. So fucking good.” Jacob groaned. “Come all over my dick, soak that shit.” He spoke through your orgasm and all you could do was grip onto the sheets tighter as wave after wave swarmed your body. He didn’t stop moving his hips and with your quaking, it forced his peak to rise to the surface before his climax overcame him. With a loud moan, Jacob collapsed onto your chest as he filled the condom.
You hugged his body and ran your fingers through his damp hair. You could still feel the tremors of your orgasm as you laid beneath him. The both of you completely satiated and spent.
Finally, Jacob rolled off you and laid by your side. In silence, all you could hear was your heavy breathing.
“Fucking hell Mr Scipio.” You spoke up. “Can I have my soul back?” Your question caused Jacob to burst out laughing, eventually you joined him in the laughter.
“We have three more condoms left sweetheart.” He licked his lips before he turned his head to look at you. “So I won’t be giving you back your soul just yet.”
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reading list: @fineanddandy @marzzrambles @murrylove @mineymak @lovedlover @planetblaque @deja-r @kiraonthegooo @apimp-named-slickback @playgurlxoxo @gojosbabyma @heytaewrites @leilaxaliel @dyttomori @tasteofmyrainboe @livvy-lovess @violetmuses @jeanellepatrice @kaisage45 @planetnique @adriennegabriella @deborahspalace @jadawada1z @delusionalbutterfly @msdmc1 @probablyintensemuses @stucklikeglue6 @reci1996 @muglermami @hereiheal @aisharmi @jasvishaawrites @lewisroscoelove @klaussstilinski @avoidthings @g1oba1-s1ore
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kasagia · 4 months ago
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imgonnagetyouback
Pairing: Benny Cross x fem!ex-girlfiriend! reader Summary: After your rather stormy breakup, Benny decides he can't live without you. He'll get you back. At any cost. Even if he has to force you over his motorcycle and take you far out of town. Taglist for Benny: @aleemendoza2425-blog Benny Cross' Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist P.S. I accept requests for Benny if you want to read sth specific with our boy 😊
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Even if it's handcuffed I'm leaving here with you Bygones will be bygone eras Fading into gray We broke all the pieces, but still want to play the game I told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same Pick your poison, babe I'm poison either way... Whether I'm gonna be your wife or Gonna smash up your bike I haven't decided yet But I'm gonna get you back - "imgonnagetyouback" Taylor Swift
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“What the hell is he doing here?” You ask angrily, looking out your office window as you see your ex’s Harley parked next to your car.
"Maybe he forgot something from you. Did you give him all his stuff back?" Your friend asks, putting the papers into a folder.
"No. I gathered all four of his shirts and two pairs of pants and made myself a campfire behind the house." You huff angrily, closing the blinds so you wouldn't have to watch the blue-eyed Vandal leaning against your car.
"So what does he want? From what you've told me, your relationship ended in a hell of a bad way, and he was a world-class asshole." You tremble at the mere memory of your breakup with Benny.
You and he met at one of the Vandals' bar. You happened to go there for a drink with your girls; he noticed you and started talking with you. He was flirting with you the whole night and tried to take you with him for a ride on his bike. The first time you turned him down. Then he tracked down where you lived and showed up at your door, offering a ride to your work.
You should have seen a red flag then. But you were too stupid and infatuated by him enough to think it was romantic.
As time went on, he took you to Vandals meetings more and more often. And it was fun. Until you had to bail him out of arrest, pick him up from the hospital, and wait forever for him at home, wondering if he'd be sleeping next to you in bed or at the police station.
And one day, when he ended up in the hospital after some guys beat him up for wearing Vandal's colours, you broke. You begged him to stop while he was still alive and well (which was doubtful considering the doctors were still debating whether to cut off his foot); you literally knelt by his bed and cried like a baby while all he cared about was whether he could keep riding.
But that wasn't the worst. The worst was that every time you argued, he threatened to leave, to disappear, that it would be best for you if he left you alone. And at first you begged him, terrified, to stay, but over time you started to react to those words... more aggressively.
Then you decided you were fed up with living with the wandering cat he was and broke up with him. Roughly. Stormily. Your neighbours heard more than one of your arguments, and the whole street saw you throwing his stuff out the window and finally throwing rocks at him as he rode away on his beloved Harley. On second thought, maybe you were both two big damn red carpets.
"I don't want to know. Will you take me home? The last thing I want today is to meet that son of a bitch."
You sigh, dragging the papers to your desk. You grab your black blazer and throw it on over your white shirt. You adjust your black pencil skirt and grab your purse to follow your friend.
You took the job as a secretary right after breaking up with Benny. You quit your old job not wanting him to know where you worked, but apparently Vandal had his ways. You wonder if choosing another job wasn't a slap in the face for Benny. Choosing such a boring and ordinary job would piss him off even more and prove that you really aren't made for each other.
Just like Benny, you could be hellishly mean.
"What the hell?" Your friend asks as you exit out the back and her car isn't in the parking lot. But there is another Vandal with his motorcycle.
"Johnny." You greet him and walk over to him, crossing your arms. Your friend is hot on your heels. "What are you doing here?"
"Kiddo said you two have a problem in your relationship."
"We don't have any relationship, so there is no problem between us. But apparently, my friend lost her car. Can you help her?" You ask him, furious with Benny for not acknowledging your breakup.
"Y/N... you know that I don't like to get involved in the shit that's not mine, but this kid has been going crazy for a month now. He's been doing even worse shitty things than before, and I can't tell you how many times we've picked him up from jail in the past few fucking weeks. If you ever cared about him, talk to him. He's becoming wildly unpredictable. Even for me."
You bite your lip at his words. You know perfectly well what Benny is like, or rather what he was like before he met you. Thanks to you, he stopped riding so fast and carefree, ended up in the hospital much less often, and even obeyed the speed limit when you were with him on his bike.
You can only imagine what he's been up to in your absence and to what extent, since Johnny took an interest and came to you to talk about it.
"Don't manipulate me, Johnny. You know damn well he deserved it. Now you know what I had to deal with throughout this whole fucking relationship." You reply dryly, not wanting to fall for the Vandals' sweet words again.
You loved them like family, but sometimes you have to cut yourself off from them to save your sanity. And you desperately needed some time to yourself and a break from all of Benny's antics.
"Well... I know Benny isn't easy, but he really is a good kid. Carrot and stick. That's what he needs. And for the sake of your lady-buddy's car and your friendship... maybe you should go and have a few words with him."
"Screw you." You growl, rolling your eyes, and walk away from them. "What are you waiting for?! Take her to this fucking car!" You shout, walking back to the main building to exit through the main entrance.
Johnny puts your friend on his bike, and all you can do is give her an apologetic look as he takes her to where they moved her car. You don't even want to know how they did it.
You sigh as you walk through the office and stand in front of the main exit doors. You glance at your watch and walk out of the building with your heart in your mouth.
You walk down the sidewalk with the other people from work who have just left. Benny's blue irises land on you immediately. He straightens up, stopping leaning against your car and throwing away a cigarette he was smoking. He looks at you expectantly. You nod at him and pretend to walk in his direction.
You cross the street on the crosswalk, but instead of turning right towards the parking lot, you run as hard as you can to the left towards the bus stop.
"Y/N!" Benny shouts after you, and a moment later, you hear the thud of his combat boots against the pavement as he runs after you.
The bus pulls up to the stop, and you run inside. Luckily, the driver closes the doors before Benny can get to them. He bangs on the glass, shouting your name and some curse words, but you can't hear him clearly as the bus starts moving.
You breathe a sigh of relief and wipe your sweaty forehead. This time you did it. You just hoped your friend would get her car back before Benny went to Johnny and complained to him that you ran away.
But for now, you're happy that you managed to outsmart your ex.
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The next morning you cautiously peer out from behind your front door, searching for a head of blonde hair. Even though you couldn't see any Vandal's motorcycle through the window, you wanted to be sure that none would suddenly pop out from nowhere.
You sigh with relief, not seeing anything suspicious.
You open the door wider, but something is blocking you. On your way out, you notice a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers. You pick it up and examine it carefully, but you don't see any note or card. But you do see a necklace.
The flowers are tied with a fucking necklace. The necklace Benny gave you at the beginning of your relationship with his initials carved into the back of the silver heart. (One of the guys worked at a jeweler's and did it for him for practically free through a connection or something.) The necklace you threw in his face when you broke up with him.
Furious, you want to throw the flowers in the trash. Instead, you decide to put the necklace in your pocket and walk to work. On the way, you pass a school and hand the bouquet to the first girl you see. At least she was happy because of those damn flowers.
As you continue your walk, you see a motorcyclist in the distance. You tense up and quicken your pace, praying that it's not a Vandal, but apparently you're out of luck today.
"Y/N?! How long have we not seen each other?!" Danny screams as he rides to you. You sigh as his bike blocks the entire sidewalk and force a smile.
"Probably ages ago. How you doing?"
"Great. Can I give you a ride somewhere? Where's Benny? Shouldn't he be the one hauling your ass to work?" He asks, already taking out a helmet for you. You reluctantly accept it and climb behind him on the bike.
"We broke up." You inform him, knowing full well that he's been away from the Vandals lately due to studies and his photography stuff.
"Oh shit. He must be devastated then." He comments and starts the engine. You hold on to him as he drives you to the address you gave him.
The drive takes a few minutes. Luckily, your car is still parked outside the building, and you don't see any parked bikes.
"Thanks. Danny? Can you give this to Benny? You probably will see him sooner than me." You say and hand him the necklace. He nods and drives away, leaving you alone.
You approach your car and curse, seeing the lock placed on the wheel. Not a police lock. A lock that the Vandals often put on and took off in exchange for small money. A small tag was attached to it. It had the date and time written on it—probably their next meeting that they wanted you to join in exchange for taking the damn thing off your car.
"Bad day?"
You flinch and turn around, surprised by someone's presence. You sigh with relief when you see only Mike—an accountant from the company you worked for.
"Bad week. Plus, it looks like I'm grounded." You say and kick your leg against the wheel of your car.
"Yeah, I recognise that. My friend had to pay them like $100 to get that damn thing off. He was rushing to some meeting and couldn't wait for the police and similar stuff. I can get someone to take it off for you."
"I'm afraid I don't have enough money." You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for a weekend with the Vandals. In Benny's company. Talking to him. You already feel sick.
"For free. Friend of mine owns me a little favour."
"Seriously?" You ask, shocked. He nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hands and nods, giving you an uncertain smile.
"Yeah, no problem. And before he will do it... do you mind if we both go to lunch? I mean... you don't have to if you don't want to..."
"You know... I would actually like that." You interrupt him with a smirk, seeing him stuttering, unable to finish his sentence as he blushes.
"Really?" You almost giggle at his incredulous question and the gleam of happiness in his eyes. You nod with a huge, genuine smile, practically forgetting why you agreed to this date in the first place. "So... in four hours at the exit?"
"I will be waiting." With a smile, you leave him behind and enter the office. Maybe this day wasn't such a tragedy after all...
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Benny was drinking beer with Johnny and Danny at a table in their favourite bar. The Vandals were circling him like vultures, just waiting for a little sensation and gossiping about his breakup with you.
"It must be hard for you, man. We all saw how much you loved her. Like a Catholic loves a goddamn God."
"Too bad she can't see it." Benny mumbles, lighting a cigarette. His one hand plays with the necklace he left on your doorstep this morning, which you gave to Denny. Benny gave you his fucking heart, and you still rejected it. He had to try harder. He had to talk to you first.
"Hey Benny-boy? How are you? Are you still getting over your breakup with your girlfriend? Do you love her that much? Come on, come with us. We'll race to the brothel, and you'll forget about this bitch in a second." Some Vandal walks up to him and pats him on the back.
"Benny no..." Johnny is interrupted by the crash of Vandal's jaw as Benny's fist hits him.
A second later, a beer bottle shatters over the head of a bleeding man on the floor, and Johnny and Danny try to pull him away from the guy. The entire club boos and cheers for the fight, but the guys quickly drag Benny outside.
"What the hell?! You can love her, but damn, don't be such a girl and react at each shitty comment!" Johnny yells at him and hits him in the chest with his hands. Benny huffs indignantly and puts his hands in his pockets to stop himself from hitting him.
"I hate her!" He growls furiously and plays with the necklace in his pants' pocket.
"And love her just the same, huh?" Danny asks and gives Benny a cigarette.
Benny doesn't answer. He smokes furiously, trying to clear his head, but all he can think about is you. Your scent, your taste, the softness of your body, the shudder of your breath beneath him, the way you clenched your hands around his shirt across his stomach when you rode with him on his bike, the way you pressed yourself against him and snuggled up to him every chance you got... fuck, he missed you. More than he previously thought he would be.
"Benny?! I saw your girl with some man in a suit! At that one of those Italian restaurants on the corner of Main Street. You know, the shitty one for rich people. You should do something about this." One of the bikers rides up and informs him, then rides away before Benny can say anything.
"Kid, don't…" Johnny tries to stop him, but Benny is already on his motorcycle. He starts it and rides as fast as he can, ignoring the shouts behind him.
All Benny could think about was how he was going to beat up the guy who dared to touch you. You were his girlfriend. You were one of the Vandals. You might have been on a break, but that didn't give any man the right to hit on you. Not when you had Benny and Benny had you.
It was simple logic. Nobody messes with the Vandals and their girls.
Benny sped through the city, not stopping at red lights. It wasn't until he was at a restaurant that he stopped his Harley.
He didn't turn off the engine, though. He was staring intently through the restaurant windows and checking out each customer until his eyes landed on you and some shit in a suit who had the nerve to get your attention.
Benny tugged on the handle, causing his bike's engine to roar furiously—like a guard dog giving a warning before it attacks. He increased the engine's roar until your eyes met his.
A cold shiver ran through him as you threw him one of your angry looks, and he felt hurt when you ignored him and continued to talk with the man sitting in front of you and gave him one of your most wonderful smiles. Fuck it. The guy wouldn't be able to walk when Benny got to him.
Benny reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pack of Marlboro, and lights his cigarette. He holds it to his mouth with one hand while the other continues to crank the handle of the engine, so that the roar of the engine drowns out any conversation you might have had with the man in front of you.
He smirks as you and the guy in front of you stare in his direction. He holds a cigarette between his plush lips and waves at you, causing an irritated frown to form on your forehead.
Benny can't help but feel a strange bile rising in his throat as he looks at the two of you. You were on a date with a guy who was clearly the opposite of Benny. He wonders if this is what you really want—a boring guy with a boring job and a tonne of money who could build you a house with a fucking white picket fence and drive you to work in his Cooper car and the kids to preschool. It makes him sick to think that you could be anyone else, that you could have anyone else's children, that you could be married to some guy in a suit and live the life of a fucking decent 1950s shitty family.
Benny knew perfectly well that he couldn't give you what this guy could provide you. He couldn't even afford a date at a restaurant like that.
However, it didn't change the fact that he loved you so damn much.
"Hey! Biker dude, leave Y/N alone!" A guy in a suit comes out of the restaurant and yells at him. Benny calmly finishes his cigarette and throws it on the ground, staring silently at the man in front of him. "Did you hear me, degenerate? Get out of here!" The guy pushes him, hitting his chest. For Benny, that's enough.
He lands the first punch with his right fist, landing perfectly on his opponent's cheek. The next punch sends blood pouring from the man's nose onto his snow-white shirt. But for Benny, it's not enough.
He throws the guy to the ground, and the two begin to fight in earnest. Benny, however, has a much greater advantage and motivation as he takes out all his anger on the guy below him. He only snaps out of this strange trance when someone's hands pull him away from the bleeding man below him.
"What the fuck was that, Benny?! You almost killed him!" You yell at him angrily, pulling your hands away from him as quickly as you can. Benny says nothing, staring at you silently as he processes what he just did. Several other motorcycles pull up in front of the restaurant, with Johnny in the lead.
"Let's go, kid! Before the police arrive."
Benny stares at you, not quite wanting to leave before he explains why he beat up your date. But he stops himself the moment he sees the fear and disgust in your eyes. It hurts Benny more than any punch he could have taken. He clenches his jaw and walks to his bike. He starts the engine and gives you one last long look, then lowers his head in shame as he joins the other Vandals.
Your hair flutters in the wind as you watch the Vandals drive away. You run over to Mike and wait with him until the ambulance arrives. But you don't follow him to the hospital. You have more important things to take care of in the city.
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With trembling hands, you knock on the door. You wait patiently outside, considering the pros and cons, but before you can chicken out and leave, Betty opens the door for you.
"Y/N? This is quite a surprise."
"Can I come in? I need to talk to you." The woman makes room for you and lets you in. You greet her and Johnny's daughters, who are watching a cartoon on TV, and you go with her to the kitchen, where you can talk in peace. "It's about Benny."
"I expected it. You know, we were all very surprised when you broke up. We were convinced that a week longer and the boy would start looking for an engagement ring for you."
"Benny and marriage? Not in this lifetime, I guess." You scoff and sit down at the small kitchen island with a smile, thanking her for the coffee she made you. "He fucking almost beat my date to death today. He's acting crazy. Johnny tells me he's been like this since I broke up with him, but we both know he was like this long before we even met. What the hell am I supposed to do, Betty? Get out of town? Out of America? Vandals have expanded all over the states, and most of them aren't the same old club they used to be."
"I know. Believe me, I know best." Silence falls between you after her words. You nod, understanding perfectly that she of you had the most right to worry. You sigh, running your hand through your hair. "Y/N... I'll give you some advice. If you don't care about him that much... if you think you can forget and move on, then save yourself. Run away wherever you want, as far away from him as possible, and forget. But if you can't... then stay and talk some sense into him before it's too late to save him."
"Save him? You know perfectly well he won't abandon the Vandals."
"Like you said, they're not the same Vandals they used to be. They've changed. Johnny sees it. Benny sees it. And they both still fool themselves, but when some shit happens, it finally gets to them. And believe me, Benny loves his bike and freedom, but the Vandals aren't his family anymore. You are." You fall silent at her words, processing everything she said. You nod and sigh, taking a cigarette out of the pack in your pocket. "We smoke outside." She admonishes you. You laugh quietly and raise your hands in surrender.
"All right. Thanks for everything, Betty." You sigh as you leave the house. You light a cigarette and walk across town to the Vandals' bar. You have to finish everything you had to finish with Benny. You couldn't just leave town without a word. There's no telling what the Vandal would do if you suddenly disappeared.
You throw your cigarette into the bin and take a few calming breaths as you approach the biker's bar. Their engines are already roaring, and some of them, probably the young and new ones, eye you warily as you enter.
You look around the bar and frown, unable to find Benny. You walk further in, pushing through the sea of people and sitting at the head table where Johnny sits with his most important men.
"Hello there. Where is Benny?" You ask them, taking the beer from Johnny. The man raises an eyebrow at you and watches as you take a sip.
"I thought you didn't want to talk to him?"
"I have to. I'm leaving town soon. I'd rather tell that to that ticking bomb." Johnny nods, fully realising what you mean. You see Cockroach get up from the table and go to the phone. You try to listen in on the conversation, but Johnny effectively talks you over and drowns out any conversation the man was having at the bar.
"When are you coming back?" He asks, but you don't answer. You take a sip of beer and tap your finger on the neck of the bottle. "I see. The kid won't be happy, you know that?"
"We are no longer together." You snap back, trying your best to maintain your relatively indifferent attitude. "Besides, after the shit he did today, he only proved that I can't stay here anymore."
"He went for a ride. He'll probably be at the lake. Or on the streets breaking a few traffic laws. You know him."
"Too well." You nod and stand up from the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cockroach exit the bar and get on his bike. You frown and shake your head. They're not your problem anymore. "Tell him I'm looking for him. When you will see him."
"Sure." He agrees and nods. You nod back and turn to leave the bar. You scan the place one last time, knowing full well that you'll probably never set foot in it again.
Your heart clenches as you remember all the times you spent here. Both the good and the bad. Shortly after you broke up with Benny, you cursed this building. You'd rather see it burn down, along with all the Vandals that reminded you of what you'd lost.
You try to hold back the tears that are welling up in your eyes as you involuntarily recall your first meeting with Benny. The pool table is still in the same spot. How easy it would have been for you not to have looked that damned way and not fallen for the charm of those blue irises and the exposed muscles of his arms. How much disappointment and heartbreak you would have avoided if you had never entered that bar. And as much as you despised and hated that place, you loved it and the people in it for a long time and fiercely. And one of them in particular.
But how much more tragedy and sadness could you endure? How long could you live in fear and uncertainty in a relationship that was supposed to bring you only happiness and those good thrills?
Benny wanted to be free. So you will give him that freedom.
"Y/N!" Johnny calls after you before you leave. You sigh and turn to him, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Take care of yourself."
"You too." You nod at him and leave the bar.
You leave everything behind. And you feel like a piece of you is dying in the flames of time and the cry of your tormented heart..
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Surprisingly, it doesn't take you long to pack. Nor does it take you long to get off work. Two days later, you're standing in the hallway of your house, ready to hand over the keys to your cousin, who's supposed to be selling it.
You stare at the picture Danny took of you and Benny when you were sitting at one of the biker picnics. Benny and you were leaning against his bike. He had his arm over your shoulder and was staring at you with loving puppy eyes while you smiled at the camera.
You sigh, putting the photo into your wallet and impatiently waiting for your cousin.
Just then, there's a knock on your door. You sigh and open it. You freeze, completely shocked, when you see Benny there.
"I didn't hear your bike."
"I parked down the street. So you don't get scared and run away." He says, still leaning against your door frame.
"I'm not scared of you." You huff indignantly, looking at the scratches on his face. You frown, not remembering him getting any injuries from Mike.
"I had an accident."
"Of course you had." You snort, crossing your arms over your chest. You see his jaw quiver slightly, but he just continues to stare at you with those stupid blue eyes of his, like you're the only girl in the world. "I'm leaving." You inform him, swallowing hard and waiting for his reaction. He drops his gaze to your hands and nods.
"I can see that." He says, nodding at the large travel backpack behind you.
"I won't come back." You inform him, carefully observing his reaction to it. Of course, he doesn't show anything. His face is stony as he looks at you, and his facial muscles don't even move as he doesn't reveal a single emotion to you.
"You won't come back." He repeats, not moving an inch from his spot by your door. You clench your teeth in irritation, to which he just smiles. And oh, that damn smile of his...
"That's it. You can go. You always said you'd be the one to leave. Too bad I had to be the one with the balls to do it." You say angrily, ready for him to turn around and walk to his bike, but all he does is continue to stare at you. You shake your head and push past him when you see your cousin.
You ignore Benny as you sort out the details with your cousin. You grab your backpack and walk him back to his car. You say goodbye to him and watch the car drive away. As you turn to go to the bus stop, you bump into Benny's chest.
"Sorry. I didn't see you." You say, quickly pulling away from him and trying to suppress your blush after your hands were briefly on his chest. The damn thing still had some well-trained muscles.
"Give you a lift?" He asks you seemingly innocently and puts his hands in his pockets. His gaze burns you, making your blush stay on your cheeks a little longer.
"Where are you going?" You ask as you both walk in the same direction. You don't feel like going with him, but you're not going to tell him that yet. You know he'll think of anything to make you get on that fucking bike with him.
"Florida." At those words, you freeze and stand still. You swallow and look at him for a long moment as you remember how you once begged him to go to his cousin in Florida and start a new life there. Then he chose his bike. And you chose yourself.
"To your cousin?" You ask carefully, resuming your walk.
"He hired me at his car workshop." Benny nods, walking glued to your side with his hands clasped behind him.
You feel strangely at ease talking to him. You're out of the habit of it. Of having him so close to you, of feeling the warmth of his body close to yours, of his intoxicating scent, of having his hypnotising irises focused on you and of listening to that raspy voice of his.
You missed him.
"You will have a job?" You ask, shocked. You can't imagine a free spirit like Benny finding a permanent job with set hours. "Well... that's good for you. I guess." You comment as you both walk. Suddenly he steps in front of you and stops. You sigh when you see his bike parked exactly two steps away from you. Fuck, you let that son of a bitch lead you to his bike.
"Are you getting in?" He asks, nodding at his bike. And as much as you want to say yes, you know it'll be bad for both you and him.
You shouldn't be together. Or at least you didn't think so. Even though you loved him so damn much.
"I will buy a train ticket." You politely decline his offer. You expect him to nod silently, get on your bike, and ride off into the sunset forever, but he still stands firmly in front of you, blocking your path.
"Where to?" He asks and looks at you suspiciously, as if he knew perfectly well that you didn't know where you were going yet. You only knew that it was definitely far from Benny.
"You don't need to know." You growl stubbornly, trying to get past him and finally move on.
But Benny won't let you. Before you can register any movement, he moves quickly and takes your hands. He wraps them tightly around his waist, and suddenly you hear a metallic click and something cold and heavy being placed on your forearms. Handcuffs. Bloody handcuffs.
"Benny!!" You growl at him angrily and struggle as he walks towards his bike. "Where the hell did you get handcuffs from?"
"Cockroach." He answers shortly and sits down, making you have to follow his lead. He fucking kidnaps you.
"Benny... let me go!" You scream, trying to punch him in the stomach, but the handcuffs are so short and far enough away from your wrists that all you can do is hold on tight as he prepares to ride.
"Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you." He tells you calmly, and you stare at him in disbelief. What the fuck?
"Don't joke! Benny!" Either he ignores your screams (which is most likely) or he doesn't hear them because at that very moment he starts the engine of his Harley.
So all you can do is sit behind him, holding on tight as he drives who knows where. Amazingly, he stops at red lights and doesn't go over the speed limit. It's only when he gets to the highway that he drives a little faster than the speed limit, but not enough to be considered dangerous driving.
You rest your cheek against his back in defeat as you realise there is absolutely no way out of this. Not if you want to stay alive. You can feel him relax a little as he rides forward, and you are not trying to fight with him. You sigh, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to rest behind him for a moment, revelling in the feeling of freedom as you whizzed through the air on his bike.
Fuck, you missed it.
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The only break you get is a stop at a motel when the fuel runs out and the cold night starts to set in. Benny rents you a room (which is surprising because you were always the one paying) at the motel and leaves you there while he goes to fill up his Harley.
You think about escaping, but:
1. Benny took away the keys and locked you up there.
2. He made sure to rent a room on the highest floor of this damn building.
3. You were too tired and hungry after the ride to come up with some plan.
That's why you lay on the bed and wait for him to come back. Hopefully with food. It would be nice to eat something before you will kill him.
As if on cue, the keys turn in the door, and Benny steps inside. In his hand he has a large paper bag, which he places on the bed opposite you in an apologetic gesture of sacrifice for his sins. He can go to hell. Him and his damn puppy eyes.
"What is it?"
"Burgers. Took it for you. Your favourite." He says and makes sure he's locked the door. He puts the key in the keyhole and goes to the window.
He looks at his bike and takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lights one and looks outside, not sparing you a single glance.
"Where's your jacket?" You ask, seeing as he's not wearing his Vandals' colours. It was weird seeing him in just a T-shirt.
"On a bike in the trunk. I don't know if they'd let me here wearing that."
"You never took it off." You say shocked and raise your eyebrows at him. "You will be cold without it." You notice and take the food out of the bag. You don't eat yet, wondering if you should leave him some, if he even ate anything before he came here.
"I was cold without you." He answers quickly without even thinking much about what he's saying. You see his cheeks redden slightly as he realises he said it out loud. "Eat." He clears his throat and takes a drag on his cigarette. You sigh and start eating. You hum, savouring the delicious food, and you swear you hear him chuckle quietly from his spot by the window. Big bastard.
"Where we going?" You ask him before biting into your burger. You frown as grease leaks onto your fingers. You lick them, unconsciously teasing Benny as he... imagines what your lips wrapped around just as perfectly as they now were wrapped around your fingers. He clears his throat, seeing that you’ve caught him staring at you.
"Florida. I want to show you something." You eat in silence, wondering what he wants to show you that makes him literally chain you to himself and drag you out of town.
"And then?" You can't stand it anymore and finally ask, curious about his future plans and how long he actually wants to keep you with him.
"And then you will decide."
"Decide what? Do I want the fur handcuffs or the regular metal ones?" You snap at him, irritated.
Your sharp mockery makes him throw his cigarette out the window, and his gaze lingers there, as if he were ashamed of what he had done. On the other hand, you didn't give him much of an exit or opportunity to talk normally. You wanted to leave—just like he had promised so many times that he would do. So why did he stubbornly want to keep you if he had never cared?
Benny wasn't one for words. He was sparing with his thoughts and emotions. And for a while, his actions spoke loud enough of his devotion to you. For a while. Then your honeymoon phase wore off, and you were annoyed that he never verbally confirmed to you what his eyes had told you so many times as he held you close by the fire at night at one of the Vandals meetings.
On this particular night, some famous actress that the guys were crazy about was coming to town. Half of them got on their bikes halfway through the party and wanted Benny to join them in hunting her down and taking a picture with her. They even bribed Danny to go with them and take their stupid pictures.
"Come on, Benny. You're not coming with us? I remember you were the one who hung her poster in the club so you could get a good view of her from the pool table." One of the guys was convincing Benny, who was currently lying on the grass and resting his head on your lap, practically forcing you to comb your hands through his blonde locks.
"I have a much better view here!" He shouts at them, not even turning his head in their direction. His blue eyes never leave your face. You blush a little, ducking your head and closing your eyes as you try to ignore the whistles and teasing from the boys at his response.
A moment later, Benny props himself up on his elbows and steals the most delightful, mind-numbing kiss. You cup his cheek in your hand and let yourself sink into the feeling of his soft lips against yours, letting out a quiet sigh when he tangles his hand in your hair and presses you against the trunk of the tree behind you. You ignore the cheering Vandals put on and completely immerse yourself in your little bubble with Benny.
Everyone had their poison. For Benny, it was cigarettes and his Harley. For you, it was him. And back then it didn't bother you one bit.
"I... if you want to go you can. I won't stop you." Benny mumbles under his breath, pulling you from your thoughts. You shake your head, snorting, and set the bag of food on the nightstand next to your bed.
"Thank you so much that you provide me with my basic human rights!" You growl at him angrily, reminding him about those stupid handcuffs.
"You didn't even want to give me a chance to explain myself to you. And you know perfectly well that I never ask for anything or expect anything in return. I... I didn't see any other way to get to you. And I'm not going to apologise for that."
You roll your eyes at him, irritated. But you can't say you don't see the reasoning behind his actions. But the prospect of being dragged around by him deeply offends your innate feminism.
Seeing that you have nothing to add to the matter, he closes the window. He walks over to you and grabs the blanket off the bed. You frown as he sits down in the armchair, clearly intending to sleep there. And you don't like the fact that even though you had him in the same room, you won't be able to have his arms wrapped around you. Especially since it's so damn cold in this motel.
"Come here. You will get sick by sitting near this window. It is cold outside, and they don't even heat the room." You grumble and make room for him on the bed, hoping that you don't have to tell him the real reason you want him next to you to get him in the same bed with you.
"I will be fine." He speaks carelessly and reaches into his pocket for another cigarette.
"Benjamin Cross." You growl at him, which finally gets his full attention. "Get your fucking ass here." Benny rolls his eyes but obediently stands up. He takes off his shoes and lies down next to you in bed.
He covers you with an extra blanket and leaves an absurd amount of space between you that you honestly hate. But you won't make the first move and throw yourself into his arms. Not after he kidnapped you. But... could it really be considered kidnapping if you partly wanted it and you didn't really have anywhere else to be?
You sigh, tossing and turning in your bed as you try to find a slightly comfortable sleeping position. But it's impossible to fall asleep with Benny so close to you when you are not even able to touch him. Especially when his warmth and scent reach you, assaulting you and every ounce of restraint and self-control you had.
"What's the matter with you?" Benny asks as you toss and turn in frustration once again.
"Nothing."
Benny knows that tone. All too well. So he hesitantly moves closer to you and experimentally places a hand on your waist. When you don't push away from him, he gently pulls you toward him and tightens his hold, pressing his chest against your back. You sigh and press your lips to his forearm, rubbing your nose against the tattooed skin.
Benny doesn't comment on that. That's something you like about him. That even when you do completely absurd things, he doesn't comment on it, doesn't deny it, just stands by you in silence. Just like now.
You take his hand in yours and squeeze it so hard that his rings dig into it. But you don't care. It's nice to finally have him this close.
Benny rests his chin on your shoulder and runs his nose against your temple. His beard gently tickles you, but you do nothing about it. It's been a long time since you've had this feeling of him close to you. You turn in his arms and snuggle into him.
Benny gently strokes your back with his hand, holding you close to him without a word as you revel in his scent. For a moment you forget why you should be mad at him and stay as far away from him as possible. So when his lips fall to your forehead and he presses a long kiss there, you grab his chin and steal the kiss from him.
His full, plump lips feel wonderful against yours and caress you nicely. You moan when you can finally taste his lips on yours again, and you remember how much you've missed this feeling. His hand roams over you, and you let him touch you wherever he wants. Benny, on the other hand, is confused. One moment you're yelling at him and you're angry, and the next you want him close to you and you kiss him like there's no tomorrow. It's a nice change. But Benny is afraid of how long it will last. Of how much longer will you want him? And will you want to leave again?
For now, he had you back in his arms. And he wanted to savour that feeling. And he will give you a goddamn reason to stay.
He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth again, as if learning you all over again, before wrapping his tongue around yours. You sigh as his hand slides teasingly from your cheek, down your neck, over the valley of your breasts, and to the hem of your jeans.
"Benny..." You sigh as his cold fingers touch the skin of your stomach after he unbuttons your jeans TOO slowly.
"Do you want me to stop?" Benny almost chuckles at how fast and furious your head is shaking. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your bottom lip bitten in a desperate attempt to keep from making any sound as he gently brushes his fingers over your folds. The motel walls were thin after all. "Open your eyes for me, my little rascal, and say the words. After this, there will be no turning back."
You don't even think about turning back. You don't think about leaving him. You only think about how wonderful it is to have him by your side again, how wonderful his hands feel on you, and how much you want to kiss his stupid mouth until you both have enough breath. And that's exactly what you do.
With that form of agreement from you, his fingers gently delve into your folds, exploring previously familiar territory and teasing you unintentionally as he tries to appreciate every little second he has with you.
Sex with Benny was like that. Unique, intense, a long marathon. Because, as he said, you never know when it's the last time. Although you always prayed that it would never be the last time and that he and you will both live to experience another of your hot sessions.
For now, God listened to a sinner like you...
You almost scream as he digs his long fingers into you up to his knuckles. His rings rub against the entrance of your cunt, the even colder than his fingers metal is making you shiver. Benny kisses and nibbles your neck, leaving a trail of hickies from your lips to your collarbone.
His fingers slide in and out, pushing against that sweet spot inside you that makes you scream his name. His rings push through and enter your vagina, and you can see them glistening with your arousal. And it's fucking hot. As hot as Benny's hard manhood pressing against your thigh.
You dig your nails into his neck and moan into his ear as his thumbs is pressing your swollen clit, working with all his might to bring you to the edge of your orgasm.
You bite your lip, trying to muffle your moans and cries of pleasure so everyone in the motel doesn't hear you, but Benny won't have any of that. He kisses you hungrily and pulls his hand away from you completely. You gasp, lifting your hips and seeking his hand, but he doesn't resume his ministrations until a soft moan escapes your kiss-swollen lips.
"Such a good little desprate girl for me. You take my fingers so damn well now, wrapping your tight unused walls around them, and before when you were scandalously empty, you were a nasty little brat. I shouldn't reward you for running away from me, you know, my sweetest?" He mumbles in your ear with his hoarse voice, still refusing you the touch of his sinfully long fingers.
The tears in your eyes fall freely onto the pillow as you try to gather the last remnants of logical thought to somehow prove yourself to him, because you know you won't come if you just grind against him desperately in the hopes that he'll finally give you more.
"Please Benny… I… oh… I won't leave… I won't leave.."
You tangle your hand in his hair and tug on it, to which he lets out a soft growl from his plump lips. In punishment, he gently nips your collarbone, adding another hickey to the collection, as he thankfully pushes his fingers deep into your velvety wet and eager walls again and tries to bring you immense pleasure.
And it doesn't take him very long. A few thrusts of his fingers, kisses scattered across your neck, collarbone, and cleavage, and you're falling apart beneath him. Your brain is a useless mush as you come from the mere ministrations of his fingers and the dirty words he whispers in your ear. You're drunk on Benny, on the feel of his fingers inside you, his weight on you, and the burning marks his lips leave on your skin.
You lick your lips in anticipation for him to strip down so you can get to the main part, but he just flops onto his side next to you, ignoring the obvious hard soreness in his pants, and wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you against his chest.
"I missed it." He whispers, kissing your knuckles. You feel his grip on your hand tighten, but he doesn’t move to taste you on his fingers. He simply places your joined hands on his chest, his other hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.
You know this is the closest you'll get to an admission of guilt and an apology from him. So you accept it and gently snuggle into him.
"Good night, Benny." You whisper into his neck. He shivers.
Goosebumps appear on the skin of his neck, but he doesn't move. You just lie there, cuddled up to each other, and he presses a long kiss to the top of your head. You feel fulfilled, satisfied, happy,
He lies under you politely, ignoring his discomfort, and you know that this is some kind of sick punishment for himself. Yet you do nothing to stop it. He has to realise that he can't just take you on his bike and take you to hell knows where. He needs to realise that he can't be such a free spirit anymore if he really wants you. That he can't keep doing the shit he did with the Vandals.
Even if you're happy with how things turned out after he dargged you out of the town.
And when the next day he takes you to Florida and shows you the old family home that he inherited from his deceased father and says that he would love to burn this place down in the past, but now he wants to keep it and renovate it for you if you agree to stay with him as his wife, you know you can't stay mad at him forever. Especially not after he slides one of his rings off his finger and places it securely on yours in a silent promise and understanding between you.
You whether gonna be his wife or gonna smash up his bike, (you haven't decided yet) but in the end you gonna finally make him yours and only yours.
After all, he didn't get you back just for you to leave him again. You will stay with each other until the very end. Even if it would destroy you.
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taegularities · 1 year ago
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colour me in: translucent | jjk (m)
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Summary: And whenever the world seems to fall apart and your thoughts cast a shadow over your heart, he rushes to lift you to your feet. Conjoining your hearts and souls, again and again and again.
➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; some healthy angst, so much fluff, smut ➳ warnings: y’all. So. Much. Fluff, talk about stars, talk about his hometown, mention of a wedding 😁, 1 nara mention, a guest appearance!!, and another guest appearance…, daddy issues mention, oc has a tummy ache :(, banter, conversation with her mom, badass oc, their friends <3, moving and work stress, overworking, kook panics in this one, oc does too, tears and tears and tea–, abandonment issues, overthinking!!!, they communicate too late bc they’re scared, pregnancy scare, mention of throwing up, kissing and hand holding <3, petnames, insecurities/slight envy; explicit sexual content: diving right into the smut as the chapter starts 🤭, tie around oc’s neck ha ha, oral (f. receiving) (over panties and without 🥲), fingering, brief masturbation (m.), making out, jk takes the backseat and oc drives for a while <3, bit of choking, they’re half clothed for a bit, tiddie and butt love, tears, flirting, big dick jk, soft dom jk, emotions omg 😷, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, he unloads in her mouth 😄, and yeah, maybe more but i forgot – lmk if you notice smth! also… THE 👏 EN 👏 DING 🚨🚨🚨 ➳ word count: 35.8k 💀  ➳ a/n: here it is… after a long ass fight with tumblr and my tears, it’s here! i don’t have much to say this time except that this chapter means the world to me. and i hope you love it just as much. shoutout to @missgeniality for betaing parts of this and helping me with difficult scenes, i truly struggled!! <3 if you guys enjoy this one, let me know and don’t be shy to reach out!! love you and let’s dive in 🥺 ➳ listen to: say you won't let go by james arthur | full collaborative playlist 🤍
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SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs | DC SERVER
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The whispers cease the moment your door closes.
The whispers of the world, of all traffic, of all passersby, of all echoes. And those in your head, susurrating since you left the glass building and its conference hall.
They dim the moment you drop your palm off the door; your heart is still a nervous mess as you take your shoes off, watch him take his shoes off. He places them neatly in the shoe cabinet, jacket hung on one of the coat hooks.
Right here, you’re surrounded by a tranquil, quiet dome. Not as subdued as the emotions the outer world elicits; just an arena that feels perpetually warm, sepia and still.
And amidst that warmth, there’s yearning. You feel it in every nerve of your body, burning through your limbs. Stunning sentiments pull at your soul, making it heavy; and your heart floats, perpetually above the clouds.
As he rubs his cheek with a soft hand — you know, because you were holding it just two minutes ago, clutching it in the car for dear life —, you take a step forward, your mouth open, but not quite capable of saying all that’s weighing on your tongue.
They’re good things; amazing things. And he hasn’t yet gathered all his thoughts either to truly voice what he’s been hiding since you left the chaos. Only opting for the living room, painfully slowly, as if he’s waiting to face you again.
And maybe… maybe he really is. And maybe he doesn’t need to talk at all.
Because he stops the moment you speak, tenderly calling, “Jungkook.”
It’s all he needs. Combined with the lightest touch to his elbow, a hint of your voice is all he needs. He wants to keep hearing his name. Again and again and again. And today, announcing it to the world, you promised that you’ll be doing just that.
Shit. What have you done to his heart? He wants to ask questions that neither of you has an answer to; or, not one that can be verbalised. One that could explain this euphoria.
So he doesn’t say anything at all.
Instead, he stumbles as he turns back to you again, taking a deep breath before his head tilts. The unbounded amount of want is swimming in his tired eyes, and you barely manage a hushed, “Should we—” before his fingers flutter and he—
Dashes straight toward you. One large step, both hands jacking up to take your face captive. He raises your head, eyes closing, mouth parting an inch before it’s locked with yours.
If he hadn’t started, you would have.
The same thumb always caressing your skin pulls your lower lip down. An unfaltering habit, tender whenever he spirals. You trip backwards, with him in tow, immediately gripping his arms with a wild, accelerating heartbeat.
Your soul was already awake, lit up from today’s events; but he dunks it in a brighter shine — and now it flushes pink.
For a while, your kiss’ sounds are all that echo off the wall, mixing with your sighs. He starts gently, head angled, diving deeper.
Every now and then, he tugs at your lip ever-so-slightly, teeth and tongue dragging over it. The wet muscle is soft against yours, and you let your touch drop down to his waist to hold him closer.
But there’s not that much time to dissolve into him right here, against your entrance door, because Jungkook backs away before you can bid your sanity adieu. Maybe that’s for later.
Maybe you need to be okay with his breath grazing your skin for now, for the words he murmurs so close to your lips, “You’re crazy for this. Absolutely crazy.”
You are. Both okay with this, and incredibly crazy.
There’s never been more certainty in your actions or your intentions than whatever you do with him. For him — if that deems you crazy, then you absolutely are.
Heated from the kiss, Jungkook steps away, but not without entangling your fingers with his. On the way to the bedroom, you ignore everything that doesn’t entail him.
Like, the humming of the fridge. Or the sound of the traffic outside, audible through the tilted window. And the buzzing of your phone; it’s been doing that for a while now.
Of course it is.
But you don’t hesitate to deposit it on your bedside table mere seconds later; you barely manage to put it there, nearly watching it slide down as Jungkook pulls you back. You clash against his body, and the tongue once again mingling with yours only enhances your disorientation.
God, you’re a lost cause. Nothing else to expect with his palm holding your jaw, arm slung around you, kissing you senseless.
Time slows down; the sensation turns electric. His motions are rhythmic, fingers brushing your neck. And despite the bitterness he must have felt at the conference, he tastes so , so sweet.
Heady desire growing, you grip the back of his head, pushing it closer. You’re insatiable. Yearning for more of his damp, soft lips, hysterical when he lets out a craving, small moan.
“Do you have any idea,” he starts, giving your neck no more than a handful of teasing pecks, “what that did to me?”
He moves back until you plummet into the mattress; your eyes follow when he leans in and falls to his knees. Placing a hand at the nape of your neck, tenderly moving your face a bit closer to his.
“Without a warning, too,” he continues, “what, were you planning to drive me mad for so long?”
Not the angry kind of mad. His smile and the fondness in his eyes reveal that much. No — the mad that a lover is.
“Did it work?” you ask, and he flashes his teeth, beloved crinkles around his eyes.
“Did it? What do you think?” He kisses your nose; then, the apple of your cheek. “You didn’t notice any of it today? Or any other time before that?”
“I wanted to… I want everyone to know. I was going to tell you when you came home, but… I wanted to say it in front of everybody. That,” you touch the collar of his blazer, rubbing it between your fingertips, “I’m done with their games. I don’t care anymore, Jungkook.”
“I know… You don’t care.” His hand leaves the nape of your neck, caressing your face. “But you care about me, yes? You care so much.”
It’s not really a question. It’s a statement, a reassurance to himself. A mantra, as if he needs to repeat it and let it reverberate in his mind until he’s grasped its meaning.
“I do,” you whisper, peeling the blazer off his shoulder by only a few inches, “and I want to stay. Can I… just stay here?”
“You’re crazy,” he echoes once more, emphasising his words with a shake of his head, “to think I’ll let you go again. You’ll see.”
Although he still establishes a brief, temporary distance between the two of you right after; you’re reluctant to stop feeling his warmth when he stands. He towers over you, and you muster utmost courage to not faint.
Because the sight is one to behold.
How he removes the blazer in a swift movement, discarding it on top of the table at the wall. He rolls up the sleeve of his shirt, but only one side, glancing at you throughout the ordeal.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask.
“Why is your mouth open like that?”
“Do this exactly in front of a mirror, and… and you’ll know why.”
He smirks. “Right. And stare at yourself in the mirror for longer than a second, and you’ll know why, too.”
God, this guy…
And he actually doesn’t stop.
His pupils keep wandering; to your eyes, to your lips, to your heaving chest. To how you close your legs when he loosens his tie with tattooed fingers, lettered knuckles on full display. He opens a single button of his dress shirt; enough to reveal a patch of golden skin.
The tie dangles off his neck, doing wonders to your mind, and you resist the urge to grab it and pull him down to you. But you don’t need to; you only get to cherish the sight for another second.
Because right after, he pulls it over his head, baring the highly kissable mole on his neck before—
“What are you doing?” you wonder, eyes wide, and probably filled with anticipation as he puts the tie around your neck. “I’m…”
“Looks a lot better on you.”
One more shake of his head. You subtly catch a jerk behind his pants, and your gaze drops instantly. Behind the dark slacks, he’s already waiting for you, and the thought leaves you frothing at the mouth.
“You’re not looking bad yourself…” you say, drifting off, barely looking into his face as your hand reaches out. “May I?”
“What, baby?”
“Just…” 
You move forward, a palm to his thigh, and close your eyes before placing a kiss to the growing bulge. It twitches under your lips, and you drag your mouth lightly over his dick’s outline.
“Should’ve known,” Jungkook breathes, affected straight away, “but somehow, this is worse than your hand.”
“Really?”
He clicks his tongue when you do it again, unfazed by the layer between you as you give his clothed cock an open-mouthed kiss. Two of his fingers settle underneath your chin, and he raises your head in order to meet your gaze.
Then, he pushes you back a little, within a second back to one knee; then the other. He cocks an eyebrow as if to reprimand you, but then gulps down a chuckle as he says, “Really. But wait a bit more.”
You need to wait, because he prioritises your pleasure. One demand you’re ready to give into.
So, so prepared, when he asks politely, “Open your slacks?” You do. The way he drags his hands over your thigh and up to your hips, starting to discard your pants, is arguably less polite. “Here we go. Raise your ass.”
You help him out as best as you can. But he attaches his lips to your naked thigh the moment it comes into view, scattering kisses over your hot skin as he casts it off of you entirely.
You raise your feet a bit above the ground, and he uses the moment to separate your legs. Doesn’t even bother taking off your panties first; casually making himself at home between your limbs.
Light-headed, you open your eyelids halfway to glance at the blurry ceiling light; you never noticed when you closed them. Maybe when the sweetness spread over your thighs’ skin.
Maybe he’s as dizzy as you — only, when your whirling stare descends to his face, he’s smirking. And for a second, you don’t understand why. Puzzled, you keep looking, observing the tempting lick over his lips; the deep exhale; the barely-there blinking.
And then he says, “Never thought about it. But you should wear light-coloured panties more often.”
“…Why?”
But you soon get why.
Because you feel the arousal behind the fabric. How it glues your pussy to it, the damp spot probably growing. It’s visible — that’s what he’s liking so much.
He can see all of the desire you harbour for him, showcased so blatantly. And despite the embarrassment, watching his face flush in that rosy dust boosts your ego, too.
Your face burns.
“You’ve been like that for…” he starts, shrugging his shoulders in curiosity, “how long now?”
“Long enough. And I dare you to do something about it.”
Because fuck, he talks too much. In hindsight, only really when you need him to shut up; deliberately.
“Oh god,” he exclaims, dramatic as ever; as he raises a hand, you nearly think he’ll place it on his chest for further effect, but he only touches your knee, “now if you’re daring me, I’ll have to.”
“Mhm. I’m sure you’re not a sore lo—”
“Yeah, yeah.”
It’s a rude interruption, and the sudden push of his fingertip against your clit is ruder. It’s a momentary touch, fleeting, as opposed to the slow and calculated way that he buries his face in your panties. Eyes glued to yours for a moment.
And then…
Then, you relish the first taste of Heaven — as does he, you suppose.
Because the satisfied sigh is outrageous, hot against your covered folds. He licks over the damp stain, only the tip of his tongue; thoroughly salivated, because you feel the wetness seeping through the clothing.
There’s no moment between the start of his action and your immediate, ”Fuck.”
And to him, your reaction sets just the tone for a woozy night to come. He nods between your legs, gelled back strands tickling, hums so sweetly. You adjust on your seat, though the subtle change affects nothing; only drives you wilder as you shift deeper into his face.
His tongue is painting circles over your clit. Drawing out sensations, and you don’t understand how… there’s underwear between him and you. A barrier, aching to be removed, so how is he doing this, howishedoingit—
“No! Oh god—”
You can’t decipher why you voiced the rejection; you don’t want him to leave. Frustrated when he does, mouth open, waiting for you to speak up until you do, “Sorry. Sorry, I don’t fucking know…”
“Babe…” He shakes his head… He’s doing so much of this today. But one of the loose strands keeps moving so gorgeously over his forehead, so if it was up to you, he could keep doing it. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Sorry…”
“Nah.” He says it when you press your lips together, hot and bothered as he licks another stripe along your cunt. “Didn’t mean it that way. Open that pretty mouth. Do scream, yeah?”
You could melt into the ground. Or into the sheets; he always knows what to say. No matter what the situation. A verbal monster once, a graceful poet another time.
They say, get you a man who can do both. But he can do all million things known to humankind and the book of romance.
His mouth works deeper into where you ache. Tongue action expanded, he returns to the panties, seeking one of your nether lips to tease it, pull at it. He’s ruining your garment, making it stick to your pussy.
Pries your legs open when he comes back to the clit, and then drops down to the overflowing sex again. The sensual gestures are toying with your nerves, and you still can’t figure out how. Leaves you waiting, yearning, craving the lack of a blockade in between.
And once the uncomfortable, wet cotton of your panties rubs against the inside of your folds, you finally speak up, “Why are you—”
“Sorry,” he interjects, aware of his bestiality. You see it in his stupid wicked smile. “I know. This is just…” Big eyes stare back down, albeit hazier than before; his finger touches the drenched patch for a second. “So good to look at.”
“You’re the worst.”
“Of course.”
Shit, he’s so cheeky. If you had the strength, you’d wipe that bubbly smile off his face; not good for your heart. Would smooch it away. But fret not — you’ll get your chance, too.
For now, you need to grant him this win. Not least of all, because it feels so good for you, too.
So you don’t defy him when he suddenly moves in more. Hooks a finger into your panties and slides them aside, letting them snap back against the juncture between your pussy and leg. And then, you guess the actual fun starts.
Because he throws one carnal look at you before his arms wander under your legs. You can barely gather your thoughts before he digs in again, properly this time. Lips directly attaching to your skin, he starts diligent work on soiling your body.
And god, does he do it well…
So experienced. Aware. Studied you and your body well enough — because the agonisingly slow tease isn’t random. He knows how much you hate it; knows how much you love it.
How it builds anticipation, and how it grows your desire.
He’s a little fuck, but maybe that’s why he never fails to break you this hard. You know he’s enjoying this — delighted when your eyebrows furrow, close to weeping as he breathes against your pussy.
Even though a man starved, he takes his time. For a second. Then another. And then parts your folds with his fingers, whispering, “Would you say that’s better?”
Like he’s at some meeting. Goddamn.
You blink, responding, “I don’t know. Better than the panties, worse than…” His finger slips in mid-speech, just halfway through when you manage a breathy, “this.”
“I… Shit, you’re… hot as fuck.”
Right.
Even you’re turned on by how your head tips back again, eyes rolling inward when he diminishes the distance and kisses your cunt. Nobody else is going to raise your confidence like he does.
“Mmmh,” he voices as the make out session intensifies, smacking noises sounding from below. He lifts his lips by a mere inch, only to mumble, “So hot. So fucking good.”
And that’s it — back to business.
“Nnnghkook…”
The arms he dropped under your legs sling around them, hooking in, and somehow, he’s able to reach to your back like that. Raises your legs in the process, pulling you in. Deeper in your heat, big button nose against your pelvis.
Your right hand attempts to grip his hair before you threaten to fall backwards, failing miserably. You immediately place both your palms back on the bed, because you doubt you can trust that damned left arm to hold you upright — quivering like this.
The tip of your tongue touches the arch of your upper lip, and then you tilt your head, warning him, “Fuck… if you don’t fuck my brains out today, Jungkook…”
Brains? Plural? Acting as though even one’s present in your head right now.
Jungkook chuckles, licking you dry; the little sound combined with the sinful ordeal is a delightful one. Contrary, but gifting the moment some reality. Some tenderness. You’re having fun.
He stops to throw the escaping strands back again — all in vain, of course — and brings his hand to your ass, moving you over the bed until you’re off the edge. You yelp, close to falling, but he holds you carefully.
Ass half dangling, he throws your legs over broad shoulders, kissing your thigh before he promises, “Don’t worry at all. Won’t leave a single thought in either of our heads.”
You wince when he bites the flesh of your leg, and then proceeds to advance his soft lips to the tender ache. He collects saliva on his tongue, probably ready to dive in again; moves in at least, tickling your pelvis with his breath.
His nose takes a deep breath, inhaling you, dizzy from your scent. And his thumb — it floats over your clit, preparing for more insanity. But when the position elicits some discomfort, you say, “Put me on the bed. Can I… bed properly.”
Fragments of sentences. They make him smile.
“Sure,” he says rather calmly; you’re anything but.
It’s not normal. Watching a guy like Jeon Jungkook push his hair back with his jaw on full display; tongue darting out.
He signals his approval once more as he pats your thigh, and you make quick work at weakly turning around and crawling onto the bed. You’re still trembling as you get on all fours, very conscious of what you’re doing.
Casually, you say, “I’ll get the lube, too.”
Of course you know what might follow. What will follow. He never stops raving, daydreaming, bragging about your ass — walking past you in the kitchen, just to grapple a handful and to innocently claim, “What? I love your butt.”
But before he strikes this time, you’re only barely able to grab the lube out of the drawer, placing it next to the pillow instead of handing it back to him. Because… because before you know it—
There’s already a finger to your pussy.
“Shit,” you curse, “you and your impatience.”
“Do you want me to wait?” he asks, as purely as the butt-love-statements as his touch retracts. Mellow voice; only a flutter of his lashes is missing, really. “I can wait.”
No, he can’t. Liar.
“No,” you repeat, readily letting your upper body fall. You bring your fingertips back to your ass, tracing it down until met with your arousal. “Don’t do this to me now.”
You know his answer before he utters it, “Don’t you do this to me now.” You hear a click of his tongue; a poised beam plays around your lips. “Alright. But.”
He snatches your legs from under your body until you’re flat on your tummy; you grunt just a bit. Not expecting the soft, little, “Do tell me if I do too much.”
As if…
He knows his limits. But the constant, caring pleads still always grip your heart; so you nod.
“Okay.”
Simultaneous with a fond slap, that word is the last verbal sign of his presence that you receive for a while. Whatever follows is a pure testing of limitations; of jumbling up your senses.
Because the moment Jungkook lifts your ass to his face, his tongue is already out. Experimental at first, of course, patient. He takes a second for languid kisses and soft necking, fingers exploring the inside of your thigh as if to soothe your restlessness.
And it helps. Your limbs shake a bit less, your mind focused on where his touches go. Fingertips near your folds. Lips kissing around your pussy. Then, repeating the same brush of his hands as before, but on your other leg, moving inward. 
Despite the first taste he already got, he’s suddenly changed his tactic; and you’re greedy. Mewling in tiny, quiet sounds, barely realising that they’re coming out of you. You repeat his name over and over, but it never quite tumbles out in its entirety.
So you keep it at moaning, eyes closed, so infinitely relaxed.
He moves back, gently asking, “All good?”
“So far… do more, please.”
It’s what he always waits for. You know. Jungkook has a fetish for your pleas, and the tiniest fragment of your beseeching voice is usually enough for him.
Like now.
Encouraged, he pushes your shirt up to your tits, halting right under them. He touches your naked stomach, brushing your belly button, grazing a palm over your lower back and straight to your ass.
The tongue ghosting around your sex finally dares a step forward. Gets a little taste of what’s to come. Circles around your folds, then to your nub; spit gathered on the tip, never too hard, oh-so-mildly — and maybe that’s what makes it even worse.
The lack of any force. How pleasant it feels. And you let him know — respond with a desperate, unheard sound, goosebumps sprawling over your skin.
Jungkook discerns it as a signal to go on; to do more. His nose buries between your ass, pushing his tongue in a little further, alternating between licking and kissing and collecting spit. Your lust shoots to the sky; you twist and move, but he holds you in place with a single hand.
And when he disappears, you regret it immediately. You hear him say, “Hey, hey… Don’t you want me to fuck your brains out, sweetheart? Isn’t that what you said?”
“Mmhyes, yes, please.”
“…Then stop moving.” His nails are harsh against your waist, and you whimper. “The more you behave now,” he leaves a kiss on your butt, loosening his grip around your waist, “the harder I’ll go later.”
“…Okay. Okay. I’m sorry.”
He chuckles. What an ass; leaving you physically and mentally covetting, and then enjoying your reactions.
“Are you okay with this?” he asks, biting a little, stroking your hips, holding onto your ass cheeks.
“Mhm.” It’s all you can voice at this point. You don’t have any power over your body; can’t lift it off the mattress. “Love it.”
“Perfect.”
And then, everything seems to happen faster.
Arousal and orgasm have already built from his advances, and he gives you the rest when he starts drawing circles around your pussy again. Heightens your senses, slurps and drinks you up. Every single time it feels like he’s learned something new; you swoon at the attention to detail.
What might he be looking like right now?
Perhaps he’s biting his lip. Maybe his eyebrows are furrowed, usually tell-tale signs of either him enjoying his meal or him enjoying his meal.
“Shit,” you mumble, but you don’t think he hears it — too busy sucking at your folds, adding a finger to the mix.
Sometimes, the licks are generous, wide-tongued; sometimes, he focuses on each part individually. The insides, the clit; how you sound, how you wind.
There’s truly an utter craze you feel for this man; no matter which hazy or soft or delicate situation, he fits you like a missing puzzle piece. Like a match made in Heaven. Knows what he’s doing.
Because he knows you. Because he studies you. Observes you.
Sex is only one instance of his attentiveness.
And perhaps that’s the whipped thought that pushes you over the edge eventually. Maybe that’s why the moment passes so quickly and explosions blind you all of a sudden. Why your face glows so hot, sweat collecting over your upper lip.
It must be.
Because as he stimulates you for another minute, your sensitive cunt submits, the knot in your lower stomach unwinding. He unties it fully, eliciting a stirring feeling that makes your pussy flutter.
“Holy shit…”
You only register your voice when the peeping in your ear stops. Your voice is still damped, the world around you vanishing a bit; except for him. Always except for him.
And.
You also notice that your fingers are hurting. Did you dig them into the sheets too hard? Tug too hard? You don’t know… but their pads are almost numb.
Jungkook’s mouth is still there, though lighter now, and his finger is slightly slapping your cunt, encouraging you to keep letting go. Catching you on his tongue.
And then… it’s over. You remain quiet.
You’ll be a mess for the foreseeable future; or at least, the upcoming one or two minutes. Your back and neck are already covered in a sheen of sweat; it’s so unbearably hot, as opposed to the recklessly approaching cold outside.
Remaining like this, you let him kiss your body through your orgasm, delicately soothing the pain his fingers caused across your ass. Hovering above the small of your back, he asks, “Can you move?”
“Not yet. But…” You scan the spot next to the pillow until you find the lube, throwing it back to him at last. “I can watch.”
No objection. So you turn around.
When you finally meet his gaze again, having started missing it, he’s already unbuckling his pants. Right there, towering above you, looking directly at you. Jaw chiselled, lips swollen.
You decide to spur him on; bring the tie between your covered tits before gentle fingers grasp them deftly. Rolling your digits around their outline before squeezing them. There’s an instant reaction: The hard bite of his lip, the rushed discarding of his clothes.
And fuck, he’s beautiful. So pretty how he despairs bit by bit, only letting his pants make it to his knees before his cock has sprung out. A true monster, bloodshot like this, further growing as it twitches and jerks… blue veins wanting to be licked.
But it’s lube-day, and neither of you can wait.
So you let him make a fist around his thickness, stroking it and momentarily letting out a groan. His chest seems to deflate, shoulders dropping as he jerks himself off once more, squirts some lube into his palm, and returns to his intentions.
“Good,” you praise, watching his cheeks grow rosier, “wish you could go all out.”
“I can’t.”
You know. You know, because he’s storing all his patience for what’s to come. With and for you.
Breath stagnating, you watch a drop of sweat trail down between his tanned pecs and then into his shirt; fabric sticking to his skin. He doesn’t notice it, dazy as hell, wiping his tip clear of the precum. Every damn time you’re in disbelief when his cock grows in size, firmer and rock hard.
So many veins adorning it as it rises to his belly button; you’re sure you’ll feel them against your walls, too. You get on wobbly knees, hair already a mess, both of you still in your soaked white dress shirts.
Jungkook’s mane is falling apart much as yours, messier now, but soaking him in so much more sex appeal. There are no boundaries to his beauty; it transcends your understanding.
Enough of watching, you mentally capitulate a minute later. Too many moans and clipped vocals fill the room, whiny once, deep later; so you float up once your body allows, targeting his cock straight-forwardly.
You only deliver one surprise kiss, helping him out as you drag your tongue along the tiny slit. He reacts, caught off guard, voicing, “Oh—”
But against his possible expectations, you don’t continue. Instead, you drag your hand along his cock only twice — up and down, feeling the smooth skin, the slippery lube, the hardness underneath.
And then, you order, “Sit. Please.”
“What?”
“Here,” you point to the headboard, on your knees, kissing his sides and up his chest until you reach the open button. “Sit down for me.”
He pauses. Waits for a moment, touching your cheek when your face aligns with his. And when you keep your begging, soft gaze intact, he huffs out a broken laugh, and states, “Not sure if I can trust you to not kill me. But…” A kiss to your left eyebrow. “Anything for you.”
And whatever happens next, passes by fast.
How he obliges, dick dangling in front of his body, waiting for ruin. How he hisses a little when the sweat-drenched back touches the cold headboard. And how you adjust your body, soon sitting in reverse, facing the closet.
Floating over his cock, straddling him, spreading your pussy with your fingers. He stutters behind you, grasping for words, but silences when you move and wiggle your ass a little, only dropping a few inches until your cock can prod your entrance.
And that’s all you do. Multiple times. Practising restraint, focusing on the closet, blinking rapidly. Perhaps you’re more patient this time, because from behind, you hear another sharp hiss, and then a somewhat agitated, but endlessly turned on, “The hell are you doing to me?”
“Nothing,” you promise; the jest costs you all your energy, “what are you talking about?”
“You’re so funny, aren’t you?”
His words are accentuated by sudden grabs of your ass. One or two pinches. You should’ve known. But despite his impatience, he never forces you down onto his cock. Lets you do.
“I’m not trying to be,” you argue, aligning yourself with him gradually. Preparing yourself mentally and physically. Leaking to no end. “You’re just delusional.”
“Must be. Too good to be real.”
If you had it in you, you’d laugh. But the approaching sins and the image of his affected expressions fog your brain. Your body burns, your lower tummy tenses; your muscles feel heavy as you loom over him, and you only endure another moment.
Because soon enough, your thirst overpowers every other thought; the weight of your desire drags your body down, thankful that he’s keeping his cock upright. And then, just like that… so easily, no resistance detected, you slide down.
His tip splits you open first, eliciting an immediate sensation. New every freaking time; like the craze he fucks your mind into space with wipes your memory each time.
“Hnnngh, this is just…”
Whatever it is, there’s no word yet invented for it. So you give up right away, squinting your eye shut until you see dots and forms, breath stuck in your throat. The lack of regular inhales muddles your mind, and you feel further heat rise to your cheeks.
“Go— slow,” he pants behind you.
Of course he’s not all the way in yet. No matter how much it feels like it; you could keep going and going. Hard and monstrous, burying inside you, no end in sight.
The filling feeling catches you off guard each time; the way he leaves no room inside, causing butterflies in your stomach, wandering straight to your pussy. A ridiculously perfect phenomenon, like a key to its lock.
God. You’re overspilling.
As soon as he’s bottomed out, you relish the feeling of his skin against your ass for a moment, registering how his fingers sneak to your flesh slowly. And then, you angle your body forward, clutching the sheets before you start moving.
You keep your pace slow. Put all your intention on delicate motions, all the way up with a whimper, and then slamming back down with a gasp. The farther you go, the wetter you get. Until you’ve probably left a shimmering liquid all over his cock, gliding too damn easily.
“That’s… that’s new,” Jungkook mutters. At least that’s what you think you hear. “Gotta do it again.”
And you’re not even done with this time. But you understand — oh, you fucking understand. There’s something about not yet seeing his face but imagining all of it. How fucked out he must look. How red the apples of his cheeks must be. How sweaty his hairline is.
You grip the sheets tighter, legs closer to his, head between your shoulders. All you manage between the heavy breathing is a high-pitched, ”Jungkook—”
“Yes. Yeah, baby. This is…”
“I know. I know, keep talking.”
Which is an unfair command. He can think as much as you; you can barely comprehend letters, even less put them into actual words. But somehow, he still mutters whatever nonsense he can think of.
“Gotta do it again,” he repeats as you fasten your pace.
“Why always play such an angel, huh?” he asks as you moan and whine.
“When you’re a… a fucking demon. Literally,” he declares when you blow out breaths, letting out a crying sound.
He feels glorious inside you. Solid and gorgeous. He holds your ass cheeks in a tight grip, the strength nearly bruising when you let a hand wander back between your legs, grazing his firm balls.
When you turn around to check briefly, slowing your motions, he looks up, meets your eyes. Apparently, he wasn’t gazing at you directly at all; and you imagine there wasn’t much to see other than a bouncing mane anyway.
What he’s actually so distracted by must be…
“How’s it… it look?” you ask, circling your hips, feeling every vein, as predicted.
“It looks…”
Must be art.
Combined with his love for your ass, he must be enjoying the view; at least judging from the constant kneading and spreading. Allowing a direct, front-seat show of his cock appearing out of you, disappearing inside of you.
Glistening. Sucking him in. It must…
“Looks so fuck—ing insane from where I sit.”
The swear word is interrupted by a millisecond, breathy as hell. Allows a glimpse into how delirious he might already be, possibly faring worse than you. Impatient, seeking more.
And you do know your Jeon Jungkook well.
Because not even another breath later, his body that slid down halfway, bolts up. You feel the shift clearly; it pulls you backwards along with him. Only, you realise the movement isn’t the only source straightening you so fast.
First and foremost, it’s the freaking hand. Covered in letters and more ink, tugging at the dangling tie and following it up to the slowly unravelling knot before… abruptly snaking around your neck. Fingers right under your jaw, lifting your head.
He tugs you in until your back collides with his chest, and to your chagrin, you notice that neither of you has gotten rid of those stupid dress shirts. You won’t be able to wear them again without drifting to this memory…
Sleeve open, he wraps his arm around your body, just under your tits, and whispers, “Why… drive me mad like this?”
“H–huh?”
“So far away. Weren’t you ffffu—” The messy zero you’re drawing with your hips interrupts his string of thoughts, and he spends a second finding it again before he finishes, “Weren’t you far away long enough?”
Shit…
This isn’t just an affair. This isn’t temporary. Your brain still can’t quite understand that you’ve actually occupied this man’s heart.
That your gestures and touches aren’t a fleeting dream, but blissfully real. That you’re his, and that he’s yours.
He’s right. You were far away for too long.
So you sneak your arm back, around the back of his neck and pull him closer by his hair. His lips brush your cheek and then retreat to your ear. Nibbling for a moment. Kissing it.
You don’t know what to focus on — on the way his teeth light up your nerves, or the way his hand moves down your shirt and bra, and up your body. Soon taking your tits captive, squeezing hard, pinching your nipples.
“Move a bit,” he orders, though you don’t really have to.
His hand remains on your neck, so he pulls you forward; guess he’s sick of the shirt, too.
“You too,” you murmur.
“Yes. Patience, love.”
No. Fuck no.
Is it the nickname or his actions that empty your head this time? You don’t know. But you react.
Moaning, but it soon transitions into a yelp when he jerks up suddenly, balls deep. Your voice breaks, and you’re breathless; grateful when he unbuttons your shirt, dragging it down your shoulders.
Helping him however you can, you pull at the clothing almost aggressively, over your hand until it’s stuck there. Sporting a shirt paw, you hear Jungkook laugh behind you, peppering more kisses to your shoulder as he says, “Ah… take it easy. You’re with me tonight.”
One quick pause, and then, “You’re always with me. No rush anymore, okay? Yeah, baby?”
He aids you out of the shirt and tie with tender pecks. Thoroughly affected when you only nod so softly, eyebrows kissing. He unclasps your bra swiftly, breathing against your neck as he bares your body once and for all, putting the garment aside.
And then his forefinger moves along your neck again, only barely touching over your vocal cords; feeling your gulp before he journeys further down, back to your tits. Probably leaving scars; his nails are reckless today.
“Wanted to see those pretty tits so bad,” he says, though he doesn’t halt here — tiptoes south to your pelvis, and then to your clit. “Been thinking about this all day.”
Really? 
So each of these touches consume his thoughts every damn moment of the day, too?
“You wanna see them… properly?” you wonder. You haven’t moved in a bit, lost in him, mentally tracing the lines he draws on your body. “‘Cause I wanna see you.”
“Mmmmhm. Doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Then I’ll…”
You don’t speak further; busy with your further advances. Your pussy feels lonely the moment you let him slip out. You’re terribly wobbly on your knees, your thighs visibly shaking as you turn around.
Jungkook holds a hand towards you, a safety net in case you tip over. He holds your wrist gently as you move over the mattress; never more than now are you glad that his isn’t as soft as yours back at the house.
Keeping your balance, you straddle him again, back in a similar position, albeit finally facing him now. And your eyes roll back just the moment he fills you up again.
Your legs are exhausted; the moment you start moving, you barely make it far enough, and Jungkook notices immediately, whispering, “My baby tired?”
And when you nod, he holds you tight, wrapping you in his arms, and—
“Hold– hold onto me, okay?”
You do. And then — he thrusts up once.
When your head falls, his eyelids drop a little, nose touching your jaw as he says, “I could fuck you all goddamn day.”
“Do it… you can now.” His head descends to your chest, mouth open. You’re not sure what you’re opting for, but you still call his name, “Kook…”
Repeatedly lunging in, he collects the words he needs to say, so irresistibly frenzied when he vows, “I’m yours. Okay? And… I need you to stay. Am yours, baby.”
Out of nowhere — or maybe not. Maybe these very sentiments were swimming in his eyes all the time; you could just not see them yet.
Lips a hair width apart, you opt for one single kiss, only a ghost touch. You tell him, “Promised the world. Will promise it to you… too.”
“Good.” His nails scrape your back, and you tug at his hair. A moan tumbles out of him, transforming into words as he holds your body in place, pumping into you, “Fuck, you– feel so good. Just you. So, so good.”
“Ngh, I—”
“I know, I can… can’t breathe, either.”
He kisses your shoulder, the skin flaming under his mouth. Although late, you imitate his prior gesture, peeling off his intruding shirt as smoothly and fast as you possibly can. It’s been a wall between you for too long now; you need to see those pretty tits, too.
And once the buttons open and the shirt flies, you finally bask in the toned beauty. Soaked chest, brawny, chocolate chip nipples as hard as yours. Soon pressing into you, lips thirsting for you, slamming against your mouth.
The fever rises, the temperature akin to lava. Your sounds are desperate and wanting, and you hold onto him for dear life. And before you know it, you’re not claiming your throne anymore.
Suddenly, you find yourself floating for a moment, and then sinking into the mattress, and then curling your hands into fists and him slamming into you harder, deeper, all the way in...
Fuck.
Towering over you, he spreads your legs wide, temptingly licking his thumb before it presses down onto your swollen clit. One jab. A second. Another and another and another.
“Yes. Yes, please—” you beg and yell, letting him pound you into oblivion.
The first hint of stars already grace the darkness behind your eyelids, but then Jungkook starts delivering rapid, light slaps to your nub. He’s chasing your high as much as you are; you know. The chaos unfolding doesn’t hold him back from observing your reactions.
Only focusing on his own end of pleasure when you’re done.
Tears gather at the corners of your eyes, and you cling to his arms, his hands pushing into your waist. And it takes just a moment longer. And another second. Several more shoves, the curve of his cock dragging along your walls and your sensitive spot.
Thoroughly drenched, both of you, as he drives all of him into you. Parting your legs whenever they attempt to shut again. And the universe finally expands, a million celestial bodies dying and imploding, much like you and…
Suddenly, you’re off the cliff.
Falling into a deep ocean. Or the vast night sky. You don’t know — you don’t feel real.
All you know is that your thighs and ass are wet. That you ruined yet another sheet. That Jungkook is out of breath, fucking you through your high, ensuring that you come back to him only bit by bit, so, so slowly.
Gentler now, you feel his body subside, down to you. His skin is glowing with sweat when your eyes crack open just a slit, though they instantly drop close again when he kisses you once more.
He does it only softly this time, as if he’s trying it out. Gauging your reaction. And you do reciprocate the touch, even if weakly. You’re still too gone to look at him properly, but that doesn’t deter him from casting another spell in your heart.
Because his words reach every fibre of you. Butterflies swarm your stomach as he says, “I still can't believe that you’re staying. You did this… you fucking did this—”
“Why not? Wh–why can’t you believe it?”
“Because you’re staying with me. You stayed with me. And…”
Somewhere, it stings. That he’s surprised by constant company. By someone not leaving… by someone worth all his affection glueing themselves to him. And yet, you understand.
That’s a pain the two of you share.
He stares through your gaze, as if he’s frisking for something specific. With each passing moment, it’s like he’s realising something new, yet unable to really verbalise it.
Like something’s burning on his tongue.
But all he does whisper is, “How do I ever stay away from you now, huh?”
“Don’t.” You touch his face, and he doesn’t waste a second to lean into your touch, kissing your palm. “Please just don’t.”
“Won’t be able to… And it sucks that—”
He frees your face from your stick hair strands, still moving inside you. His own tresses hang into your forehead; his thumb touches your lower lip.
“That I can’t be with you every damn second of the day. I mean…” He leans in. Pecks your eyelids; your heart bursts. “What if I can’t move an inch from you?”
You keep staring. Unable to answer. Keep looking and drinking in every emotion laid bare in his confessions. Your misty mind feels calm; not as heavy as hours ago.
And you’re woozy; so indescribably giddy when he adds, “You… you mean so much to me.”
Damn. Damndamndamn.
And you’re fucking obsessed with him. Want his kiss on you all the time; words tattooed on your brain, etched into your soul.
“Jungkook.”
“Huh— yeah?”
“Can you…” You gulp, drooling at the thought, and then spitting it out at once, “Finish in my mouth.”
“Shit,” he exclaims, though the word is more a maniac laugh than anything else, “you know exactly you— you can’t say this to me.”
You know. Because any image of his cock ramming your throat empties his head.
Once more, he mumbles, ”Damn it,” before he’s picking up on pace. You move your hands over his broad shoulders, soon curling your fingers in to hold tight — it’s what the situation suddenly requires. Because gradually, his hips slam into you faster.
The dull sound of his thighs meeting yours repeatedly is lewd, volume increasing when he starts jackhammering into you. Your rhythmic, breathless cries become irregular and broken, turning into screams, and you feel a droplet escaping the corner of your eye.
Throat dry and jaw aching from the parted mouth, you keen from the sensitive feeling inside. You’re so full. So invigorated. Holding onto him tight, so you don’t crumble.
And just as you yell out a dozen curses, Jungkook, voice raised, states, “Fuck, fuuuck, gonna come, babe, f— open your mouth—”
You do. Instantly, tongue out, choking because it’s so much harder to breathe like that. Jungkook trembles over you, lips wet; his arms threaten to give out, letting his body nearly collapse on you, but just a moment before he does, he pulls out.
Hurrying, his knees dig closer to you, cock and ass right above your face as he holds the length between strong fingers. Secured in his palm, he strokes himself over you, glancing into your hungry eyes.
“Pretty girl,” his other digits raise your head by your chin, and his body is swinging, unstable; shoulders high. “My sweet baby… You can’t just…”
Pinching your chin fondly, he digs his cock into your mouth, still pumping the base and touching his balls. You raise your head to not suffocate in the process, and he lets your chin go to grip your hair, lifting you halfway just in time before—
His load finally spills. All of it. So much of it. Hot and sticky, thick as the ropes shoot straight into your throat. You nearly gag, keeping yourself together, swallowing diligently as he empties his balls.
There’s fucking buckets of it, shit…
You close your eyes, focusing on breathing, and once he’s done, you close your lips around his cock. Still hard, although slowly softening, you lick the remnants of his arousal and whatever’s left of you. The tastes mingle, and your head spins…
And then, he pulls back. You’re beaten, gulping, smacking away the saltiness.
Still overwhelmed from the taste, you let your head fall back onto the pillow; but your fingers still seek his touch. The mattress next to you flattens again as his knees retract, and soon enough, laying down beside you.
Both of you are too done in to speak, even less to move. So you let a few minutes pass. Then, you find his fingers, entangling them with yours; waiting a bit more.
And only when your heart rate calms a bit, you stir, hearing him suggest, “Quick shower?”
You smile. The kisses aren’t over yet.
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For a while longer, the profuse heat lingers.
The radiator is off, and some of the windows were open when you came home. And despite choosing to stay bare after the shower for some more, you don’t register any of the cold yet; you’re sheltered, safe and so, so warm.
Jungkook’s fingers keep trailing up and down way after you’re done, lips planting generous kisses to your scalp and face. He paves his way to the corner of your mouth and then up to your eyebrows; and when he reaches your nose again, you lift your head abruptly.
Chasing his kiss, even if for just a second, a hand on his cheek and shoulders rising. Occasional giggles and smiles, tickles and pinches keep you busy temporarily; you don’t know how much time passes, nor do you care.
You only snap out of your daydreams when his kisses gain on urgency, tongue diligent. A palm creeps dangerously close to your ass, threatening to slink to your beaten sex.
But your reaction is quicker than his sly attempt, and you say, “Wait— no. Can’t do it again.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Of course.” Damn his shoulder shrug. You tap his pelvis before you wrap a leg around his waist, teasing, “I didn’t feel the twitch at all.”
He shakes his head. “No, you didn’t. But it’s not my fault that you’re so stubbornly sexy.”
“Stubbo—” You giggle mid-sentence, imitating the shake of his head. “I hope you know I’d let you tie me down and do whatever the fuck—”
“My god. Stop saying it like that.”
“—but my body won’t let me yet. I also still stink.”
“Stink?” He shifts dramatically, burying his nose between your tits. His voice is muffled when he asks, “Do you?”
“Stop. You’re so weird,” you scold, but the word is drenched in laughter; you forcefully lift his head again. “We still need to change the sheets and the shower was quick. Do I not?”
“You kinda do. Like cherry blossoms.”
“Shut up.”
“What? Sue me for telling the truth. My girlfriend smells like cherry blossoms.”
Oh… oh?
Wait.
Your mouth shuts tight.
Did he…
The beam that spreads on your face is almost embarrassing; surprise, joy and affection conjoin, your guts twisting. You take a breath. Feel the sparkles in your own damn eyes; tender gaze directed at him.
And the freaking flutter in your heart; the temperature in your cheeks. Do these things ever stop?
The words sink in slowly; and Jungkook takes the time to ask, “What?”
“You… you haven’t called me that yet, have you?”
He’s perplexed. Guess even to him, it was a Freudian slip, because his eyes are wider than ever. He waits, thinks for a moment; then admits, “Uhm. No. I don’t think so.”
“Well, I… like the sound of it.”
“It’s… it’s true. You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?” His eyes smile before he does; unrestrained devotion in them. “My baby?”
He says it so innocently, so sweetly that you can’t help but coo. Teasingly, you pat his cheek, telling him, “I mean I hope I am. Considering I’m moving in with you.”
“Yes. You are. Of course you are.” 
“…Girlfriend.” Sheepishly, much like a teenage girl, you keep your twinkle intact, still feeling the lasting gleam on your face. You must be reminiscent of the sun and the moon. Emboldened, you start, “Then… boyfriend. Can I ask you something?”
The term elicits similar glee in him, teeth out, grin bright. He waits wordlessly with sparkling eyes, and you touch his lip, asking, “How do you feel right now? About all that?”
“I feel… I’m in disbelief. You’re moving in with me and just. Somehow, even saying it feels surreal.” He sighs, searching for words. “I’m in disbelief and crazy for you. That’s all I know.”
Falling deeper and without an end is possible. Jungkook has taught you that; still does.
“…I was so scared you wouldn’t like me doing this,” you confess.
“What? Saying yes to being with me all the time? Sounds horrible.” He laughs. “I’m happy. And I’m happy that you’re happy, too. Okay?”
“I wasn’t for a while, you know? You make me feel good. Take me by my word and give yourself credit for it.” He needs to. He might have doubted his role in everyone else’s life so far, but his value to you needs to be clear at all times. “Not just now, Kook, but, you always make me feel good. I hope you know that.”
“I do. This time, I do…” Content, you smile; until he stalls for dramatic effect, mouth open to indicate something to come. Your beam expands to exhilarated laughter when he squeezes your ass again, adding with another snicker, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make my favourite munchkin feel good?”
“…There’s more than one?!”
Hmm…
That’s what you’d been yearning for all this time.
Because there’s something so vulnerable about your elation; the enlivened titter. About your newfound feelings. About these very first phases of a sensitive relationship. Something serene.
And the meaning behind your words keeps changing with him; carries much more weight, and makes you feel so much lighter. As if levitating on cotton clouds.
Girlfriend. Boyfriend.
Peace reigns supreme and for a while you’re hopeful enough to doubt anything could disrupt it. Even the world is quiet when you look out the window.
September isn’t yet harsh enough to cover all above pitch black, but it’s still dark grey and drab. The sky still somewhat illuminates the unruffled room through the tilted window.
But just when tranquillity reaches its peak, your phone vibrates on the bedside table; you flinch.
The screen’s shine overshadows the faded monochrome of the world. It’s unwelcome, intruding — and once you lean over, holding the blanket over your chest, you realise that the message is just as unsought.
Mom [7:12PM]: We need to talk. Mom [7:12PM]: I’m still at Charmante for another hour and a half.
…At this time?
Did you leave her this desperate?
“What is it?” a dulcet voice asks from behind.
You hear the bed creak a little, his body cold without yours. Despising the distance, he puts a gentle hand to your shoulder, planting a kiss right next to it; when you lack his desired reaction, he asks again, “Everything okay?”
“Hm?” You barely tilt your head, eyes still glued to the words that you’ve already internalised. You cover his hand with yours. “Yeah. Just. Look.”
You hold the phone into his face; the penetrant white floodlights his skin. The warm gold shines in the glow, his lips drier than before. They move as he reads, and then, they close, giving way to a hum.
The initial silence suggests that he might be thinking the same as you — to bail. To shut the phone again, slide it to the edge of the bedside table and drop back against his chest, above his heart.
But you should know Jungkook better; he won’t discourage a familial reunion, praying for a better outcome than he ever had. He’s always spoken for your relationship with them — thinking back, he has never truly badmouthed your mother.
So you’re not too surprised when he hands you the phone back, careful to not turn your mother’s two marks blue, and suggests, “Maybe you should go.”
You sigh. You don’t want to. It’s too early for confrontation; time hasn’t passed, and the issue hasn’t yet marinated. Then again, the problem might only grow if you postpone this.
But your heart is biased, angry, refusing to oblige to her demands one more time. So you ask for yet another confirmation, “Right now? But I…”
You turn back to him, shaking your head slowly, troubled. He props his head up, eyes staring down to you as you lay flat on your back, hands folded under your breasts.
“Give yourself closure, babe.”
“I got closure.”
“No,” he strikes back, fingers lifting to your jawline. He touches it lightly, brushing it delicately, “Actual closure. To finish this. And she deserves it, too, you know? She’s still waiting there, angel.”
“Jungkook, you…” You click your tongue, gaze swerving to the unlit ceiling light and then back to him. “You’re too good.”
“I’m sorry.”
You smile, and he throws a palpitation-inducing twinkle back. You know he’s right — it must have been a shock for her after all. More or less double-crossed by her own daughter, humiliated in a public setting — her brain must be frying.
Reluctantly, you stretch your arm to the side, tapping for your phone, and roll your eyes at Jungkook playfully when you open the message to type back. His body floats down, lips planting a barely-there kiss to your collarbone.
You [7:14PM]: I’ll be there in half an hour.
“Alright then…”
Your body lifts off the mattress with the idlest of movements. The afterglow might die once you’re there, but you guess you need the confrontation–fight? Argument?—to ensure more, blissful nights.
This time, you don’t bother with your clothing as much as you did when you prepared for the press conference. You slip into the first best jeans you find, throwing a cosy pullover over your torso.
Busy with the rush, you don’t notice that Jungkook isn’t standing behind you in his usual grey joggers but in jeans, too. He’s fiddling with your car keys, stuffing his wallet into a pocket, and you stare wide-eyed, waiting for an explanation.
And once your digging stare pierces through him, he reciprocates it with similar confusion, half his hand still in the pocket as he inquires, “What?”
“What are you doing?” you ask, gesturing up and down his body.
“What do you mean?”
The back and forth of questions leaves you further bewildered, and you step closer, softly snatching the keys out of his fingers as you say, “Babe… It won’t take long.”
You don’t think he quite understands — it seems that to him, it was a given this entire time that he’d accompany you to your work building. But when it seeps through, his expression changes, more relaxed.
His head tilts, blinking slowly as he assures, “I won’t let you go alone.”
“Kook—”
“It’s honestly not a big deal. You said it won’t take long, so I’ll wait outside.” He shrugs, forefinger at the nape of his neck, scratching. “Plus, I’ll just get bored here alone.”
A warm flutter engulfs your heart. You wonder how couples spend days, months, years together without burning up every moment during their togetherness. Because you don’t think you’ll ever get over the fire he sets ablaze in your lungs — how does one get accustomed to affection like this?
You don’t know.
Maybe you don’t need to know.
Not more than what his eyes say, at least.
“What did you do all the time I wasn’t here?”
His grin is playful, but there’s tender truth in his words, “Something any guy waiting for you would do,” big brown irides meet yours, fingers fiddling, “counted the seconds until I could see you again.”
Your laugh is sudden before you ask, “Is that a quote from SpongeBob?”
And the joy holds on as you leave the apartment and rush down the flight of stairs. The short comedic journey to your car is distracting — most of reality only dawns on you when you step into the car.
Reminiscent of the last time the two of you drove over to a confrontation — just a little after his vacation; just a bit before the heartbreak.
The streets are quieter and emptier at this hour, the repose enhanced by the gentle drizzle. It’s significantly darker than when you arrived home, though it hasn’t been too long since you drove this exact way in the opposite direction. Two hours?
Maybe it’s the cloudy, almost black sky, accompanied by the hushed sound of the rain that’s amplifying your fears. Because the calming ambience from a minute ago worries you the closer you get — this once, you’d rather bask in sunshine and daydreams.
But no.
Hope is on your side; you’re done worrying, right?
As you sit up straight in your seat, Jungkook glances from you from the driver’s seat, eyes shooting to and fro between you and the street. His lips part as he operates the wheel with one hand, using the other to wrap around your fingers.
“Don’t be nervous,” he says, squeezing once before he lets go, brushing over the back of your hand and gripping the wheel again, “there’s just so much she can say. You made a decision as a full adult and she’ll have to accept it.”
“Yeah.” You follow the streetlamps and their warm radiance, redirecting your focus on the next as you pass each. “I hope so.”
The ride home was different; you were filled to the brim with energy and adrenaline. Your legs were putty, so he insisted for you to freeze on the passenger’s seat, reluctant to hand you the keys to drive.
You were waiting for the streets to end, to shut his door behind you, and to breathe and sigh through a sleepless night with him. The anticipation, combined with the aftermath of the press conference made you restless — you wouldn’t stop gnawing on your thumb.
And he didn’t interrupt your thoughts, let you flick through them until he finally looked at you at a traffic light. Raising the back of his digits to your cheek, assuring, “It’s okay, angel.”
Maybe the breathy tone and the hundred promises wrapped into one reassurance prompted your reaction at his place at all.
Jungkook turns into your work street, and you hold your breath. Your heart knocks violently against your ribcage, disabling a proper thread of thoughts. Which is a shame, because you really wanted to draw a collection of snappy remarks you could retort in there.
Instead, you merely look at the entrance far at the end of the street, unmoving as Jungkook moves into a parking lot and kills the engine. You blink; then blink some more. The gulp, you think, is audible in the small space of the car.
“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks.
“No… I don’t think she’d want that.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, leaning forward to pinch your chin between two fingers. He moves your head toward him, eyes a liquid, wavy ocean at night. Affectionate. “She’s your mom. Despite everything, I know she loves you.”
“I don’t know…”
“She does. I saw it the night I picked you up and I saw it Monday morning, too. So.” The head tilt, the soft curve of his eyebrows, the care in his pupils — they’re a healing bandage around your heart. “Don’t be scared.”
He leans over the centre console armrest, still holding your face in his grasp, and presses his lips just barely, sweetly to your wrinkled forehead. You think the muscles react immediately, temples relaxing.
For a second, he lingers, and then he pulls back a fraction, looking at you from an inch-wide distance, and whispers, “Don’t be. I’ll be here all the time.”
Right — armour-clad, like a knight. You finally nod, a weight dropping off your heart. You cement his smile deeper into your mind; a coping strategy in case things escalate in there.
Once more, you squint at the entrance doors, though barely visible from here. Hand on the handle, you say, “If I’m not out in twenty minutes, call the police.”
Jungkook tsks, eyes rolling with badly hidden amusement, ordering, “Just go. Will be here.”
Yes. Breathe.
He’ll be right here when you come back. And it’ll all be over then.
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The building feels sinister, empty like this. Nothing of the busy and lively mood remains; the lack of the chatter and footsteps drenches the entrance hall in gloom.
It reminds you of horror movie locations; you can’t help but hesitate as you walk in.
Especially today, the silence is unbearably odd; the press isn’t lurking anymore, isn’t swarming you anymore. You don’t want to imagine how hard it must’ve been to convince the reporters to finally leave.
You sigh…
In less than a day, they’ll have today’s highlights printed in newspapers and posted; feasting. Big, bold headlines will narrate the words you uttered; of course they will. With your family relishing a local celebrity status, the media would be damned if it didn’t make any profit out of you.
For the first time, however… you don’t care. You inhale.
And as you walk past the glass walls and up the stairs, clutching your work keys, you don’t feel the overwhelming urge to run away from this place anymore.
You’ve liked your job since you started, no doubt, despite your initial worries and fears. But the thought of losing against the world, or of losing him terrified you. Maybe you were too naive to fight those who wished you harm mere months ago, freshly out of college.
But now that you realise that you won’t be roaming these hallways in a couple weeks, that you have dropped the mic in a way they won’t be able to pick it up to hurt you again, you feel relieved. 
Feel a sense of responsibility. Like an adult.
Okay.
She told you she’d wait in an unoccupied office on the first floor — you usually frequent it with Zara, sifting through theories and changes. You wonder why your mother didn’t settle on her own office — then again, you imagine it must hurt to suffer defeat in the very room where she’s supposed to reign.
As you reach the room, your fist lifts to the door. Though you soon realise that it might be entirely unnecessary, judging the slight gap and the soft noise from within. So you gently push the ajar door open, met with a tired figure behind an imposing desk.
She’s lost in thought, but as you enter, her gaze slowly ascends, her posture reclining. And you see it immediately.
The usually cold eyes, now brimming with disappointment and sorrow.
Her eyes flit, as you assume unintentionally, into a corner. She dodges a simple greeting when you mumble a timid, “Hi,” and you drop the formalities right away. Don’t even attempt to sit — stand there, towering in front of her, not intending to stay long anyway.
And it seems her thoughts and intentions align, because she refuses to beat around the bush, a weary voice asking, “Why did you do that?”
“Mmh… You’re asking like I shouldn’t have.”
“Because you shouldn’t have.” Typical. Her point of view will always be her only truth. You listen on, but can’t help but tense. “Your father and I built this for you, and we intended to forward it to you. You know that.”
You don’t like that tone; you never have. It always ran over your spine as a shiver, weakening your knees. Even today, you’re conditioned to buckle just a bit. You exhale.
“Mom, have you ever heard yourself speak? You’ve never even remotely tried giving me anything else that way,” you complain, leaning to clutch the chair with one hand, the other gesturing around the room. “You built this stupid empire for yourself and kept it intact for me, so I can continue your work.”
You huff out a mocking breath, shaking your head just a little. “You never even asked me. You just told me to do it all.”
Her voice is sharper when she responds, “We didn’t hand it to you to make you suffer, for god’s sake.” She’s irritated, eyebrows deeply furrowed. “Christ, you were supposed to have a good future.”
“Yes, and I will! I’m happier than I have been all summer. Do you even have any idea what happened during that time?!”
You pause. She doesn’t answer, clearly sorting out a hundred answers.
Because a lot happened — most of it a direct effect of her or the media’s bullshit. Of course she won’t be able to pick out just one single thing.
So you explain, “Did you even understand that Jungkook broke up with me because of the thing you pulled with that dumb journalist?” You spit the word like a curse, grimacing. “And that he avoided me because he thought he was ruining me?”
You try to make it sound as ridiculous as you can muster, wondering if the realisation is dawning on her. 
“Did you even notice how I didn’t come out of my room for da—”
“Just why,” she interrupts, eyes shutting tight in disbelief and agitation, palms toward the ceiling, “would you jeopardise your life and emotions because of him?”
Jeopardise. Holy fuck.
She has a whack understanding of villainhood.
“Because he’s important to me! You can’t even imagine how hurtful it is to only be talking about work to you. You never ask me if I eat or sleep enough. You didn’t even give me a graduation present. He did! But you wouldn’t know!”
You think back to the lamp in your room, the one she has never seen — remember the dark ceiling, the aurora and stars projected to it. The touches that followed.
“He’s unbelievably important to me, Mom. Okay?”
“You’ve been with him for just a while.”
You grit your teeth. It’s like talking to a wall; a daycare child would catch the sentiment better than her.
“Yeah,” you say, scoffing, “and it makes me embarrassed for you, because I’ve known you my entire life and you never cared this much. Like, fuck, even Dad did.”
Her jaw clenches as you swear, nostrils close to flaring as you concede more pain, “Jungkook actually makes me feel human.” There’s a sting in your eyes. You blink it away. “I’ve been feeling like a person, which just… made me understand that—”
You gulp, your throat tied and your head heavier now. You wait, shrugging. Then—
“That I can receive affection, too.”
Your friends are your first memory of care; barring them, you only had a faint idea of what devotion entailed. Learning what it means to be genuinely important to someone had been on your bucket list — this year, you ticked it off.
“I just hate that he had to glue me together first for me to understand.”
Because she broke you first. The contrast couldn’t be more crystal clear.
She doesn’t dig your monologue. Her countenance fills with different shades of ridicule and embarrassment, shreds of anger thrown into the mix. Filed nails tap against an open folder, the other hand rubbing her forehead.
“You sound ridiculous,” she derides, “you can’t throw your future away because of love. It won’t pay your bills.”
“I’m gonna be a manager, though. I’ll pay my fucking bills. And Jungkook is working his way up, too.” Your latter statement gains a sceptical stare, followed by a skyrocketing eyebrow. It satisfies you. “He is. He’s getting his own part at an exhibition. We’ll be fine.”
She frowns, mouth already agape as she psyches herself up for another answer, and you already roll your eyes, prepared to interrupt.
“You—”
“You were so grateful last weekend,” you argue.
“Because you almost killed yourself!”
“No! If you’re so worried, then call! You could’ve called and asked where I was like mothers do. Made sure I was well and not drunk out of my mind!”
“Stop it,” she stands, her voice as damaging as a serrated knife. You flinch as she charges for you, and you breathe out, ready for a slap — but her body halts in front of yours. “How do you expect to run from this just by switching to another company? Novaura’s still mine, too.”
No…
You hold your breath. Straighten your back, hands sweaty as your nails dig in. She’s been predictable half her life; not always quite vile. But you know what she’ll say next, and you know it’ll be the most odious thing she’s ever uttered.
“And I could keep you here if I wanted to. They’d throw you out if I told them, too.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you blink, scorning, “You’re serious?”
A breath of laughter escapes your chest, and you shake your head in disbelief. You’re done.
You press your lips into a thin line before smacking them, nodding in faux agreement before you say, “Okay. Go ahead. But if you do, I won’t shut up this time. Today, I was being nice. I praised you, and none of my nice talk was actually deserved.”
Choosing your words carefully, you pronounce every syllable as if explaining molecular biology. She listens, not spitting an answer immediately.
So you challenge further, “You want to throw me out? Do it. It’s your reputation. I didn’t say anything wrong at the conference today, because it’s my right to choose the career I want. You’d be abandoning your own daughter if you pulled this through.”
You have her attention. Her lips stay sealed.
“And when they ask me,” you continue, eyes now fiery; you’re so done. So, so done. “I will let them know that you did it out of spite. Try finding an excuse why you did when we’re there. I won’t be at any disadvantage.”
You press into your palms one more time, relaxing your jaw, and opt to turn and walk away. Hurling one more glare towards her, you spit, “I have a degree, just a reminder.”
And that should be it.
Pride unfurls across your chest, warm in your stomach as you take long strides out of her office. You hear the quiet call of your name, suddenly desperate. But now that you’ve said your part of the truth, you don’t turn around anymore.
Only shut the door behind you hard; shutting all she’d hoped for with it.
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Despite the satisfaction still bubbling in your stomach, you can’t shake the clump in your throat and the anxiety in your heart. The post-fight adrenaline pumps through your veins, and your fingers shake.
There’s discomfort in deserting your own mother; the irrational fears were to be expected. You didn’t do anything wrong, you know, you know. But your organ still thumps like drums, and you lift a hand to your chest. A vain attempt to calm your breathing.
And then… something miraculous happens.
The brisky gust of the evening brushes your cheeks; the bright lights of the city contribute to your sudden peace. They’re a reminder that the world is far wider than this damn building. Than her.
But more than anything, your worries dissipate when the strolling figure grows in your sight. As you walk the short distance to your car, you feel your heart lighten — your forehead and temples relax.
He has his hands on his waist, chin slightly raised as if watching the stars that hide in the city sky anyway. His steps are small, and his eyebrows calm. He looks serene.
And once his hands slide into his open jacket’s pockets, he looks down the street again, surprised when you’re mere steps apart.
“Ah,” he voices, one palm already out as he stretches it toward you, “barely fifteen minutes. I was about to come in.”
Deep sigh in, you let his arm pull you in his embrace, swiftly wrapped around your torso. He smells like fresh clothes, after-rain, and vibrant, like the lights in the sky.
Your arms sling around his body with an urgency, and you muffle your voice against his chest as you ask, “Already?”
“Already?” he repeats, though dragging the word more than you did. His arm squeezes you once as his other hand escapes his pocket, too, stroking your head. “Those weren’t days? I swear I felt myself ageing in there.”
Your fist thumps against his chest lightly, and you giggle against his sweater. “Don’t be so dramatic.” Eyes slowly unfocusing, you rub the zipper teeth of his jacket between your fingers, softly mumbling, “Thank you for being here. You’re the best.”
You feel a movement over your head; he’s lowering his chin to your hair, still caressing your head as if lulling you into sleep. And it’s working — you feel drowsier by the second.
But then, his chest rumbles as he hums, cautious as he asks, “Are you okay?”
Are you?
You’re about to start a new life where you desire, with whom you desire. Finding permanent residency in his presence the way he finds it in your thoughts.
A few more steps, and you can make yourself home. Not in those rooms, but in him. Because that’s what he is.
A blanket, a radiator, the comforting voice that soothes and heals. Worshipping you within the same four walls every single day.
You’re not just okay — you’re craving.
Leaving his warmth and scent, you lean back and look at him. His eyes are as big as you’re used to, awaiting an answer, genuinely curious. Your heart threatens to burst; the sting is painfully sweet.
“Yeah,” you answer, touching the purple sweater, “I promise I am.”
Because. Because that’s all you ever wanted.
It’s over. You’re going home — you are home.
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You can’t remember whether it was your fingers clawing into Jungkook’s shirt or his hand brushing through your hair that kept you in the sheets twenty minutes longer than anticipated.
The plan was to snooze once and get into a routine with divided work. One prepares breakfast, the other makes the bed and cleans up before leaving the apartment.
But it seems that so far, your routine has consisted of lazy mornings. Tired hums. Quiet, hushed and slightly hoarse good mornings and entangled limbs.
You pressed between his shoulder blades as he strokes your head, planting kisses on your temple and your forehead.
“Slept well?” he asked today. Another peck in between. Then, drowsy and sighing, “Is the mattress okay, by the way? I like the firmer ones better since they’re good for your back, but I know you had a softer one, so if you need…”
“No, not at all,” you promised, warm and safe under the covers. “This is perfect.”
No… the softness wasn’t needed. Your muscles were so relaxed, you were sinking into the bed anyway. Sleeping a dent into it. At peace as his nails gently scraped over your scalp, massaging and caressing.
He could’ve lulled you into sleep like that; and his voice served as soft, white background noise. The words he used. The honey sweet tone. The past tense in what you had, and what you have now.
If you hadn’t been so lethargic, you would’ve floated through your chores. But when the clock ticked too dangerously fast and brought your working hours sickeningly close, you decided to eat out instead.
You always fool around at breakfast too much — stretching it longer than it needs to be. A café was, surprisingly, the smarter, more time-efficient option.
And a great opportunity and excuse to explore the places near you. Jungkook promised there was an amazing bakery nearby, and you trudged along, tummy rumbling, now that you weren’t in bed with him and satiated anymore.
“You’re sure you’ll be at home by the evening?”
You gather the remaining crumbs of your pastry with the pad of your thumb, waiting for Jungkook to slurp the last of his coffee. He nods, soon answering, “Mhm. I won’t be at work for long. Might come home before you do, actually.”
“Okay,” you suckle at your thumb, shoulders relaxing as you stare at the drizzle outside. The day started out grey. “And then tomorrow, I’ll be off work by the afternoon, so I should be able to bring more things over from the house.”
Tired from the morning, your eyes remain on the customers trudging in and out of the café. They shake the water drops off their umbrellas, or sigh at the prospect of stepping out into the rain again. 
Their expressions aren’t quite dispirited, but… perhaps a little dim.
You raise a side of your lips in empathy, and then continue, “And then on Saturday, I’m getting the truck to the house, for the rest of my stuff.”
“Babe,” Jungkook interrupts, pausing to smack the coffee’s taste away. His hand slides over the table, wrapping his fingers around three of yours. “Let me come with you tomorrow. You’re already doing too much.”
“Absolutely not. I won’t drag you there unless I absolutely have to. Besides,” your voice is soft when you lean forward, raising your entangled digits to your lower lip. “You’ve been busy plenty, too.”
And it’s true.
He’s been taking care of the apartment and cooking dinner these days. Organising documents with you, so you have whatever needed to change your address and whatnot. Doing small purchases for the household and vacating some of the closet to make place for your stuff.
Two weeks have passed since the press conference — and Jungkook has been a pillar of strength and sanity as much as you have been his. You communicate each night, regulating finances, dividing roles and sharing comfort.
You don’t think you’ve ever witnessed or felt a relationship as symbiotic as this one… and you’re just starting out.
His thumb brushes over your fingers, still reassuring you, much as you expected, “I honestly don’t mind.”
“It’s okay,” you argue, “we still have a lot more to do. Save your energy for that. I’d still love these deco vines for the living room, remember? Let’s get them together.”
Your words are breathy, as if you’re being reborn. A breeze of refreshment — and he feels it, too. There’s something about the thought of simplicity livening up your bustling days.
Mundane tasks, like shopping for casual things together.
Groceries. Decoration. Plants.
With all the planning of switching work and homes, the two of you have been incredibly breathless. You even told him about a meeting at your new place today, a discussion about trivial matters, general know-how and preparation you need to do.
The sliver of stress is visible in your eyes — you’ll be seeing the other managers today. And you’re nervous about it, unsure what vibe the meeting might set.
But despite the stress, you’ve been as bright as Venus in the night sky. He understands. If anyone does, then him.
Because the idea of strolling through Ikea's tableware department is balm to his mind. Your laughter sounding through its hallways, half your body leaning over the shopping cart, because you surely seem like the type to do so.
His voice is as gentle as the mizzle outside when he promises, “We’ll get anything you want.”
“Really?” Your smile is radiant, cheeks glowing as you press the lightest kiss to one of his knuckles. “Sounds good to me.” 
Time passing has always been a bummer. Despite the quiet noise in the café, the clock ticks as if in a deafening volume, a reminder that you need to let this hand go soon.
Sometimes, you do worry. About the attachment, and the healthy obsession with him. And on the other side, about every moment he worships you, and every second he misses you.
How there’s discomfort in being apart, even if for mere hours. Maybe that’s why he holds you so tight at night. Or why you’re constantly itching to get home.
Perhaps there’s a lingering fear that your time separated brought, a sneaking anxiety of being dragged apart again.
Yet, instead of dwelling in improbable what-ifs, you breathe in the air of the room, direct your senses away from the clock and toward the increasing patter of rain against the window panes. 
You squeeze the fingers around you harder, delving into one last soft conversation as you ask, “You’re at lunch with Joon later, right?”
“Yeah, he promised me burgers today.”
“What for again?”
“Because I’m his favourite staff member?” Jungkook lifts your hand to your mouth when you open it, shushing you with your own fingers. “Don’t say it. I am his favourite staff member.”
“‘Kay. Understandable.”
“You know…” He shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly, but the soft drop of his gaze, fingers fiddling and toying with yours betrays him. He’s still so delicate around you. “If you want, you can join.”
“Oh. Mmmh,” you think for a moment, but then click your tongue, insisting, “it’d be weird, I think. Dunno if he’d want it.”
“I would want it.”
He always does.
Yearning. Obsession. A humane way of falling in love.
You feel like a person. No matter how odd the phrase might sound in your head, the painful truth behind it is undeniable. You feel like a person.
“Okay,” you reply, slowly reclaiming your hand, reluctantly preparing to leave. “I’ll see if I find time and energy during my lunch break.” You halt, unblinking, before you look back at him with squinting, uncertain eyes. “Totes Bag Street, was it?”
The sudden, choking laugh erupting out of Jungkook is a surprise. If his coffee cup wasn’t empty yet, he’d still be sipping, probably ruining the white, silky shirt you’re sporting today.
You actually mean it, don’t you?
His trademark laugh is high-pitched, melodious, though a little more controlled in the public space, but the flashing of his teeth and his dimples implies genuine joy.
You already know: the lighthearted banter has become a hallmark of your connection. Doesn’t get old. Heartwarming — albeit right now, very confusing to you.
So you cock an eyebrow, questioning, “What?”
“Babe,” he simply mutters, hands coming together in a mock prayer. “Shit, you’re so fucking cute.”
He lowers his head between his shoulders, torso shaking, and you pull his palms apart again to dig with another, ”Hey. What?”
“Boats Track Street. Not Totes Bag Street,” he corrects, endeared by your wide eyes. The back of two of his fingers grazes your temple, and then down your face, before playfully pinching your chin. “You’re so cute. And a dummy. I mean it.”
“You’re a dummy,” you reply, forcing your face back and out of his grip. “Besides, that’s a pretty stupid name.”
“To be fair… I agree.”
A hesitant smile spreading on your face, your gaze wanders to the clock at the opposite wall again. The beam drops a little, giving way to a small sigh.
“It’s okay. I’ll probably be busy anyway… will join you guys another time.” You shove the chair back, getting off with a fatigued groan and a hand rubbing your tummy. “And I feel a bit weird today, too. Shouldn’t have eaten before bed because I’m feeling the effects right now.”
“Ahhh, I told you. No worries. I’ll make you something light tonight. And some peppermint tea.” His hands wave you goodbye, making a begone motion. “Go for now. The longer you stay, the worse the next hours will be for me.”
“Dork. You must survive.”
You huff, eyes rolling at the dramatics, and push your bag behind your body before you lean into him. A hand on his cheek, you watch his eyes close, setting your lips onto his.
The two-second long goodbye peck remains just that before his fingers, pushing against the nape of your neck, tug you in again.
Against your lips, he mutters, “Eat, okay? Call if your stomach bothers you. Anytime. And don’t be nervous. You’ll have fun.”
And before you can answer, he kisses you again.
Once, and then twice more. Your guts somersault, even when he finally lets you go. Your lungs feel dry all of a sudden.
All you have left in you is to nod. For your wobbly legs to step away. Looking back a few more times until the door opens, the bell chiming, your transparent flower umbrella spreading over your head.
Jungkook watches as your careful steps wander away, your head never lowered like every other passerby’s. They’re hiding from the rain, but you’re staring up, observing the movement of the clouds before your focus falls on the road — and a minute later, you disappear out of his sight.
His chest and muscles relax, a quiet laughter still tumbling out as he repeats, “Totes Bag Street.”
The sky may be colourless. The people might look into the world dimly.
But despite the rain tapping against the window, no inch of you is painted in a dismal, drab grey. You’re the brilliant, gleaming sun.
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The location of your new job isn’t as fancy as the area around Charmante. The building certainly isn’t made of reflecting glass throughout.
There’s wood and actual walls; not every door opens with a chip, but a key, and the luxuries are limited. Compared to your old building, this one is humble, but it still oozes wealth and success — guess that’s what a subsidiary looks like.
The meeting room for today is somewhere on the third floor. Your mind races as you fix your clothes in the elevator, throwing regular glances into the mirror to guarantee that your hair sits as perfectly as three seconds prior.
You breathe deeply, exhale through a rounded mouth. Whether it’s this meeting or something you ate, your stomach does not feel great.
As the nerves start kicking in, you think of Jungkook’s hand in yours and the everlasting smile. You use him as your safe place; close your eyes for those few seconds that the elevator floats up.
And it works. Feels like an oasis, calm and lovely.
That is, until the bell pings, forcing your eyes open. You stare up at the number, nearly stepping out until you realise that — you’re not on the third, but on the second floor. Were you supposed to halt here?
No. And there’s nobody outside, waiting.
Until, someone is.
Rushed steps move to the elevator, a nice but stressed voice urging, “Ah! Keep the doors open, I’m coming!”
Strange. Oddly familiar voice.
You can’t say why, but you already prepare a polite smile, trying not to let the ticking seconds stress you out. Rationally, you know you’re not late, but the time passing messes with your nerves.
And it seems it doesn’t get better when the figure finally rushes in, pressing the already lit number 3 before he says, “Good. Just in time.” Looks back at you, delighted as if he expected you somewhere around, and adds, “Ah! Hello!
It takes a moment. Then another.
One more until you figure out who he is, why you feel like hurling and how maybe, just maybe, he might be heading to the same room as you — as another new manager of Novaura.
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You blow a raspberry at the boxes in your backseat. 
Deciding to at least take your favourite box up with you, you leave the rest here for now; you don’t want to bug Jungkook yet. You can heave it all upstairs on the weekend, in peace.
It’s only moderately heavy — but with both your hands busy, the task is a hassle. You secure it under your arm as you close the door of your vehicle with your hip, clutching the phone previously tucked between your cheek and shoulder.
You straighten your head, reflexively looking up to Jungkook’s apartment window. To your apartment window. Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue just yet.
Somehow managing to open the entrance door, you sigh into the phone, giving Taehyung a relieved, “I’m finally back home.”
“Mmmh,” Taehyung voices, and you imagine his full lips in a line, tiny nods serious, “how’s it feel? Knowing that this is where you’re gonna be for the foreseeable future?”
“It feels… quiet.”
“What, he bore you to death like that?”
You giggle, taking deep breaths as you ascend the staircase; though slightly irritated by the slowly and constantly slipping box. You heave it back up.
“Absolutely. You’ve no idea, really.”
Taehyung laughs, but your joke doesn’t stick for long. You feel bad immediately — even in a playful tone, your heart knows nothing for Jungkook but praise. You guess that’s how kindness affects people.
And your brain stays mean, prolonging your pout — because it conjures pictures of a crooked smile, wrinkles around tender eyes, a tilted head as shoulders rise when the laughter reaches its peak…
A sting jabs your chest.
The longing is unbearable, and you’re barely another level from the apartment. He’s waiting for you on the other side of that flat’s door, and you know his pupils will widen in his dark brown eyes the moment they fall on you.
“No, that feels horrible to say,” you correct, shaking your head. You pause in the middle of the staircase for a moment, gaze fixated on a dirty spot before you shake your head once more. “You know Jungkook. If he’s not joy personified, then I don’t know.”
And it’s true — despite his own demons, you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone spread this much comfort.
“I just meant that my mind’s been quiet. And a lot more peaceful. Not a hundred worries whirling around anymore,” you tell him, your steps upward slower now.
“Just ninety-nine, huh?”
You smile. “Maybe. But he’s not one of them.”
Dull background noise interrupts your thoughts; Taehyung doesn’t respond to you, but reprimands Yoongi in a distant mumble. He’s been doing it since he called, covering his phone to argue with his friend.
Apparently, Yoongi had been with him for hours before you picked up Taehyung’s call; they’ve been settling the rest of the arrangements, scurrying through paperwork. The apartment you considered is entirely their adventure now, but you aided in anything they needed.
Which basically just meant clearing things with the landlord and then answering his new tenant’s million questions. 
As in — how were you thinking of decorating it? Why were you going to take it? Did you calculate monthly costs including rent, water and gas? You didn’t mind, because Yoongi might be one of the most polite people you have ever met.
But it seems he’s reluctant to return to his dorm’s lonely walls, too.
Because Taehyung values alone-time, and Yoongi hasn’t granted it for hours. You feel kinda bad for Yoongi. And while the younger man attempts his hardest to maintain the gentle tone, you hear the exhaustion in his voice.
“I’ll drive you home after this, ‘kay?” he tells Yoongi; you snicker at the groan that returns. “You got this, bro.” Attention back to you, a murmur of your name. “Anyway. Everything should be good now.”
“I’m glad. That was… quite something.”
A euphemism, really. The handful of visits weren’t fun; not to mention the stuff you had to get over with for your own move. And then all those calls. You needed minutes upon minutes of preparation for each of them. One hell of a businesswoman, you are.
“No, say it as it is. ‘Cause it knocked me the fuck out. You guys really had to drag me into this.”
You feel guilty about making Taehyung your spokesman here; but as an already residing individual of the building, he was a great support in this matter. 
“We— love you,” you tell him, inhaling deeply between your words. You rub the dirt off your soles on the welcoming mat and hold the box tight, not opening the door yet. “Tell your forehead to feel kissed.”
“Nah. You’re gonna upset Eun.”
“Why? Eun and I are more in love then the two of you might ever be. She’ll choose my side.”
“Ha. Fair. Whatever.” His voice doesn’t carry an ounce of solemnity. Once again, you imagine him pulling a face, waving your statement off. “Enjoy your life. Your voice has been echo-y forever. Also, don’t forget to talk to Jungkook about what we discussed.”
Ah… yeah. There’s more than just one thing you need to clear, actually.
“Aye, aye, Captain,” you confirm, though arguing, “I’m surprised you haven’t done it yet.”
“You do it. I know he’ll like hearing it from you better.” He pauses to answer his friend; you don’t even know what he said. “Okay. I’ll go grappling with Yoongi then.”
“Good luck.”
“Buy me sushi.”
One last laugh before you cut the call.
The clicking sound of your keys turning in the lock is music to your ears and balm to your feet. You skip the threshold with a relieved release of air; the apartment smells like diffusers, so warm compared to the declining temperatures outside.
You don’t hear a movement until you get to your knees, seating the box next to the shoe cabinet. As you start working on your jacket, you register a shuffle from the living room, but no voice — Jungkook said he’d be home before you. Perhaps he’s painting; or gaming.
A short text message during lunch assured him he could start dinner without you; deep down, however, you understood he wouldn’t listen anyway. And the obvious lack of aromatic scents wafting from the living room proves it.
You don’t enjoy eating alone — and he knows.
Clearing your throat, you announce your arrival, bent as you take your shoes off and rub your aching heels for a moment. You wish you could float. Offer them reprieve.
Stumbling in the anteroom, you wait for a greeting, but it seems he didn’t hear or notice you. You lick your lips, standing straight, and then speak into the hallway—
“I swear I don’t have a foot fetish,” a short pause — nothing, “but can you massage my feet again today?” You wait. Not a word comes back. So you joke, “Actually, just massage my whole body? I don’t mind. Need some hands-on relaxation.”
Subjectively, you think you’re hilarious. You giggle on your way to the living room, cheerful despite the jam-packed day — but your laughter ebbs down soon. Because he’s standing in the middle of the room, lips pressed into a tiny smile, head lowered, hands in his pockets.
And right in front of him, a timid woman in a coat. Blinking at you.
Your eyes dodge her gaze immediately. It’s an impolite reflex, heart pounding as you watch Jungkook’s hand lift to his forehead, hiding behind his bangs as he rubs. When he looks at you again, there’s an equal amount of worry and amusement in his expression.
“Shit,” you mumble, another mishap, and you continue cursing internally. Stupid, stupid, stupid. And then, “I’m sorry.”
She looks like him. Same sweet aura, short hair, big eyes.
Her right digits are wrapped around the fingers of her other hand, mouth shut tight, though smiling. She knows less what to say than you, and the moment stretches and stretches and does not end and—
“Hi,” you finally murmur, bowing slightly before you cringe. Too much? Not enough? You clear your throat again, and then introduce yourself quietly. “You must be Mrs. Jeon. I… I didn’t know you’d be here or I would’ve come earlier! I’m very sorry.”
Are you rambling?
How horrid. You’d feel so uncomfortable if you were her.
Only, she barely showcases any sign of displeasure or irritation. Despite striking you as an introvert, her movements soon prove confidence — the type to know what she’s saying or doing, but in a humble and gentle way.
She unfolds her fingers and lets them dangle, soon moving up to clutch the strap of her bag. Looking between Jungkook and you once, she raises her eyebrows and shakes her head, as if to promise that there’s no reason for any tension.
You sigh when she speaks, “Oh, it’s alright. I didn’t stay long and I need to go in a minute anyway.”
“Oh?”
“I was going to leave ages ago, but,” she points to her son with rolling eyes, and the man in question shrugs in faux guilt before she speaks on, “that one wanted me to see you for at least a second. I wanted to meet you properly… prepare dinner and all, but. It’s still nice to meet you.”
Her eyes are kind, taking you in; if you could guess, you’d say she’s… excited. Urging to finally speak to her son’s girlfriend.
She moves a teeny tiny bit, as if opting to offer her palm to you, or to— maybe hug you? But maybe she realises the timing, or sees your terrified expression, because she holds back for now politely.
“I see. It’s wonderful to meet you, too.” Incredible how you spoke about initiatives just this morning, rambling in the office until someone had to interrupt you for their own turn. Now, you can’t get a word out. “But, I… I am still sorry I barged in so rudely.”
She grimaces, moving closer to you with a waving motion, “You didn’t barge into your own apartment. It’s all good.”
Jungkook doesn’t interrupt much; doesn’t interfere with his own jests and statements. They mirror each other so much, though. In the way they smile, and in the way they talk.
Even the manner in which she places her hand on your arm, reassuring you, delivers the same warmth. You tense for a moment, not quite expecting the touch; but it’s motherly. Soft. 
A new emotion floods your heart, but you can’t decode it. Too many thoughts streaming in, brain working overtime to come up with a full sentence without stuttering, without those dumb hesitation markers that your studies taught you to avoid.
And maybe you’ve succeeded — only, the clump in your throat, accompanied by a strange twist in your stomach builds a barrier now.
Her touch feels… good.
“Do you… would you like to sit?” you ask, voice softer by an infinite amount. “I have a variety of tea here, and you could choose one. If you…”
You want to talk. About whatever. Not the slip occurring a couple minutes ago; maybe you just finally want to know who made Jungkook the man he is today. It wasn’t necessarily his father, was he?
Somewhere, this incessant, constant comfort derived from. But.
“I’d like nothing more than that,” she admits, “but I have massage therapy in a bit, and should get going. An adult’s back.” You laugh, and she gestures towards you with an open palm. “Oh, don’t you work in an office? Take care of yourself, too.”
“Not just an office, Mom,” Jungkook interrupts, inching closer until next to you and rubbing your back, proud, “she’s a manager. She walks around a lot, so the problem are,” he nods toward your feet, “these.”
True. Just today alone, your heels made it feel like you ran a marathon. Learning about each corner and wandering around that building drained you.
“Ah… I thought so,” she says.
You blink in faint confusion until you realise. Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, brief but telling, and his mother smiles in awkward amusement. Hell.
Your blood shoots back into your face, warming it thoroughly, and just before you can opt for another apology, she says, “You have him to take care of you. Make him spoil you! You do, don’t you?”
Her voice changes the moment she faces her son, a little strict but all in good fun; her eyes squint and he exclaims, “I do!” the moment you defend, “Oh, he does! He definitely does.”
She seems to like this. There’s a sparkle in her eyes, similar to the one you already know; perhaps she’s just as endeared as mothers–usually?–get, realising their children are happy and settling.
“We take care of each other,” you tell her then, and she responds with a content nod.
“Good. It’d be a shame if not. Taught him how to treat people.”
“He knows for sure, ma’am. I don’t think you’ll ever need to worry about that.”
You’re careful with your gestures, your smiles, your movements. Even though she’s made clear as day that she’s not to fear, you still shift your entire focus on the delivery of your words.
If you weren’t, you’d be more lax. Looking through the room, exchanging glances with Jungkook. If you weren’t so distracted, you’d notice that he’s playing with the ends of your hair.
And you’d see the way he looks at you.
With those barely blinking, calm eyes. An ocean of fondness in them, a light, lost smile around his face. As though you’re soothing him, pumping oxygen into his lungs.
You don’t see any of it; but his mother does. And you register the drift of her pupils, the minimal upward movement in her eyebrows as she shoots a glance at him — then back at you.
But when you follow her gaze to him, he’s already snapped out of it, clearing his throat.
“You should go before you’re late,” Jungkook reminds her, removing his hand from your hair, “I’ll go spoil her as you taught me, Mama.”
“You better. Pressure’s on.”
He smirks, lopsided as he slings an arm around her shoulder. She’s so much smaller than him. “Tell Dad Hi from me.”
A slight drop of his lips. He doesn’t look at her but the ground. Tell-tale signs of a distant ache, hidden behind an attempt to find a cure.
The sting is palpable, right in the middle of your heart, but it dissipates bit by bit as he smiles at you again. Genuine once more, back to where he was only five seconds ago.
You nod at her, one last, non-verbal confirmation that you feel cosy here. There’s something inarguably sweet in her instant care. How she instantly roots for your happiness. How she’s pouring all her empathy into you with a single look.
A stare that usually understands someone else’s pain; and then hopes for eternal peace for them.
She doesn’t even know you — does she? You wonder if he ever did speak about you.
“Okay then. Tell me if you need anything,” she says it to Jungkook, but promptly turns to you, promising you, “you can, too. Of course.”
“I will. Thank you so much.”
Purse lifted further up her shoulder, she starts a move toward the exit, already starting to wave you goodbye before she suddenly stops. Looks at you, and blurts, “Oh, and— has he uhhh…?”
She starts the sentence with hesitation, ending it with uncertainty and a look over her shoulder. You follow her eyes, barely catching him throwing a warning sign. His eyes are ripped open, head delivering tiny shakes, but he returns to normal the moment he catches you staring.
Okay. Something happened there that you’re not part of.
But that you’re supposed to be part of? You don’t know.
You’re curious, though. Already aware of what you’ll be pestering him with tonight.
She shuts up, letting out a short, tiny breath. Her small, sweet fingers curl just once before she releases them again, and she flattens her coat, nodding.
“I’ll leave you two alone then,” she declares.
“You should stay for dinner next time, though!” you offer.
“Of course. I’m eating with my husband after the appointment, so he’ll probably already be waiting, but. Next time for sure. And you should come, too, someday.”
Right. 
It doesn’t stop. It’s permanently odd hearing someone talking about that man other than Jungkook. Shouldn’t be, because she’s the closest and dearest individual to him, sharing a home and marital bed. But…
It’s like people don’t quite feel real from stories until one actually faces them. His mom’s subtle, harmless words about her husband make him feel realer, and Jungkook’s issues with them.
But most of all you wonder — why has he never visited here? You wish he had. You wish he would sometimes. But she didn’t even suggest bringing him with her next time. Or how his father would be delighted about a visit, too.
It doesn’t seem to faze Jungkook. Or maybe it does, but he doesn’t let it show. Or — worse. Has he gotten used to it? His father’s absence, or the term that defines their relationship.
Because he nods, a soft smile as a son usually throws at his mother. Casual but loving. He says, “Won’t keep you here then.”
Jungkook kisses her head at the door, and she stuffs her hands in her coat, politely bidding you goodbye.
You watch as she approaches the staircase, still waving when she turns around one more time. You sigh in relief — she was friendly. No panic. You didn’t fuck up entirely.
And despite the last moments of gloom that the mention of her husband evoked, you hear Jungkook’s chuckle resonate once the door finally closes. His steps move toward the living room, his shoulders shaking.
You nearly slide down the closed door as you watch him, head falling back before he falls into a wholehearted laugh. You imagine deep, multiple crinkles around his eyes, mouth wide in joy.
Eyebrows kissing, you follow him inside, nearly bumping against him when you realise he’s standing in the middle of the room, body still shaking from the chortle. He’s facing the ground, and you hit his arm from the back.
“Shut up,” you only order, opting to walk away.
But he turns to you, a hand around your elbow; he can barely breathe when he assures, “Okay. Okay, I’ll stop. Sorry, I just—” He sniffles as you look at him, sulking and trying his gloating not to make you laugh, too. “What were you doing?”
“That’s not funny!”
“I’m not trying to be funny! I’m serious.”
Which he clearly isn’t. The smile is too infuriatingly wide, and the tug at your arm too affectionate. He’s amused and you hate–love?–that you are, too. You keep the act of agitation intact for another moment.
But pieces of you break, your heart a melting mess when you watch his eyes nearly close, nose scrunched up. His shoulders rise — they always do whenever his laughter increases, bunny teeth protruding and the mole under his mouth a magnet to your lips.
And when he raises his hands to your face, cradling it, and speaks, you lose it entirely.
“What were you even saying, munchkin, huh? You’re such a little idiot, you know?” he playfully scolds, squishing your cheeks; peppering kisses on your skin and your lips; barely allowing you a moment to talk.
“And you’re—” you say between tiny kisses, distracted by the childlike, muah-ish sound effects that accompany his pecks, “so mean.”
“And you are the sweetest thing to exist.” The lovingly aggressive touch vanishes from your cheek to be replaced by sudden pinches; your protests are high-pitched, and unfortunately, enhance his statement. “Okay, okay. Come on.”
He flicks your chin as if to provoke you further, but dodges all your teeny tiny rage to come when he moves past your body. Warning abandoned, his fingers tweak your ass as he targets the kitchen, and you yelp, instantly slapping a hand over your butt.
“Freshen up and let’s get to dinner. And hurry. Gotta give you hands-on relaxation later.”
“You’re the worst, I mean it.”
But his evil snicker isn’t.
He might make your hackles rise, and test your patience the way he used to so long ago. Back when you’d seek him out in a miniscule dorm room, eyebrows furrowed just to see him a bit longer after class.
You’re always baffled how your foundation still stands; after all the shattering and agony and stings that fractured your heart. Only now, you’ll be surrounded by the bicker every hour of the day.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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Living through an odd day at work, driving around town and embarrassing yourself in front of your boyfriend’s mother makes one dizzyingly hungry, you realised. Stress didn’t let you eat properly today.
Even now, there’s something you need to reveal to him — but the moment you sit down to eat and crack the first joke, you don’t have the heart to. And then, combined with the rush still lingering from the awkward, wholesome interaction before, and the shift in mood, you soon do the worst:
Forget about the issue.
Your eyes meet the bottom of your bowl sooner than preferred, your stomach still seemingly as empty as before. Whatever magic Jungkook seasoned the dish with, you want him to sprinkle it on your tastebuds every day.
Jungkook is sipping on his water when you suddenly look up and place a hand on his bicep, shaking him for attention. A guilty Oh slips out of you as you watch droplets roll down his chin, and he tries not to choke as he puts the glass back on the table.
“Babe—”
“I’m sorry!” you exclaim, thumb wiping at the fluid dampening his chin. “Just. Can we have more? That helped with that sickness all day, and… I’m still hungry.”
Along with the lack of appetite, you assumed the stress and the constant overworking dragged the feeling of illness and stomach ache throughout the day, too. Jungkook keeps warning you about burnouts — doing a thousand things at once, you’ve been thoroughly burdened.
But honestly. Maybe it was just hunger for a real meal.
“Oh? I'm so glad it helped then! And sure,” he responds. “Go ahead, there’s enough for like four people.”
You blink. “And you?” He shakes his head, patting his full tummy, attempting another try at drinking. You argue, “I’m not eating alone, though!”
“Angel, I’ve had like two portions. I'll be full until next dinner.”
“Lame!” You shift on the couch, half of your ass holding you onto it, “And if we found ways to burn it off?”
“…Ah?”
“I mean… You like working out. So just work me out.”
“Shut up. You’re impossible.”
You’ve long given up — you’re not an ass. You would never force him to eat or not to eat, unless he hasn’t in hours. But you also need a foolproof way of amusing him.
Which, despite his very unimpressed expression, you know you did. His lips still twitch.
Sombre, his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek before he shakes his head. You pat his strong thighs, standing from the couch with a hungry groan.
“Fine. I’ll go heat up some for myself then,” you announce, but Jungkook’s shrill alarm bells ring immediately, his body jumping off his seat.
“Not the microwave.”
“Jungkook—”
“Not! The microwave. Just toss it in the pan and heat it up there.”
You tiptoe to the kitchen just a little faster, playful as he hurries after you. You spend your seconds explaining why the microwave won’t explode; how tickling you won’t change anything; how you’ll break something if he doesn’t stop.
But most of all, you spend your seconds allowing him to chase away all sorrows you carried for so goddamn long.
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Shut up. You’re impossible.
His prior agitation truly wasn’t one at all.
Because despite your obvious jests, the calories lost on the couch rob you of all sanity at last. A hand in your hair, a body pushing yours down, free fingers roaming your sides and your legs, and lips never separating from yours.
He doesn’t strip you off a single piece of clothing. Doesn’t dig a hand underneath your shirt, focused on how your mouth feels, how his name rolling off your tongue sounds.
The eyes he stares into are vivid and bright, and he uses up all his power to not let them kill him. Your body wraps around his like the most tender of all embraces; he doesn’t need you bare for it, no matter how blank the thought leaves his mind.
Only needs the proximity. The tongue touching his, the nails testing his shirt’s quality.
You miss most of the movie that he suggested, eating each other up, a fist around the hem of his shirt until he nearly falls off the couch and wakes you from your dream. You giggle and joke, spending the second half of the film yawning, sipping the peppermint tea. 
Jungkook uses the quiet time for whispered conversations; massages your feet as you pleaded for, repeatedly asking for your comfort.
The moments aren’t anything big, in theory. You’re not in a fantasy novel, not throwing a ring into a volcano. You’re mortal and here, surrounded by humane domesticity and drowning in casual conversations.
Yet — even though you’re not living through spectacular adventures, you’re breathing through special moments nevertheless. Because not a single second spent with him feels mundane, after all.
Sometime as the ending nears, you let your legs fall, pulled close to Jungkook by your hip. You don’t quite understand when or how he does it, but miraculously, you land half on his lap, ass barely on the couch and cheek pressed to his temple.
Jungkook pushes a hand against your thigh, heaving you up further and moving you until you’re comfortable. There’s a light groan, followed by a feathery kiss to your jaw; and you wrap an arm around his shoulder to hold on, shifting even closer.
Your touchy warmth isn’t new to Jungkook; but it seems that the changes in your lives made your inhibitions disperse. Like you broke the bars trapping you so far.
Because the increasing clinginess feels carefree; you don’t overthink your movements tonight. Even before, there was lightness in your interactions; how you’d breathe in his presence, compared to when the world intruded.
The difference was still never quite veiled.
He saw it when he called from so far away all those weeks ago, staring at the distress in your face through a device — versus when he returned to your world.
Or just recently, when you stood on that tiny stage, talking down to reporters — as opposed to when you whispered for him to get you home.
Your shoulders always dropped in relief the moment you stood in his soothing radius. And yet—
There was quiet discomfort in your eyes. And today — today he doesn’t see that usual steam frying your brain. Your smile isn’t burdened; you’re weightless, like you’re breathing.
Overwhelmed and endeared, Jungkook gulps. The pricking needle rods his heart, simultaneously flicking the wounds. He could cry.
He watches you busy your fingers with his shirt, unable to put his thoughts into a coherent string of sentences; so he only says, “You’re so cosy today.”
“Hm? I’m always cosy.”
“Mmmh… a bit more tonight.”
Your forefinger traces the outline of his pecs over his shirt, and you nod with a hum before you declare, “That’s because I’m trying to establish a healthy balance.”
“A healthy balance? How so?”
“I need to be nice, because you’re not.”
His eyes follow your finger’s slow movements, so his voice is soft, barely concerned. But his brain can’t quite compute as he asks, “I’m not nice?”
“You’ve always been mean, actually.”
He laughs. Taps your thigh rhythmically, close to your butt. “How am I mean to you?”
“Like,” you press your palm flat in the middle of his chest, looking at him. There’s a crease between your eyebrows, the slightest hint of a pout on your lips. “You ass could’ve answered when I came home. You didn’t say anything! Or did you really not hear me?”
Oh.
Ogling into your anticipating, subtly piqued eyes, he suppresses a laugh. His lips form a thin line, but the glow in his dark eyes betrays him. Your hand lifts a little, ready to spank his pecs, but you close the gap again as you grant him another chance.
“Hey, if you tell me you didn’t hear, I’ll let it slide.”
You’re well aware Jungkook graduated as the best of his year in Teasing You, and holds the degree proudly to your face every day — but you also know he’s honest.
So you’re not surprised when he admits, eyes mischievous, “I heard you.” Your slow blinking, the scolding gaze are hilarious to him; he looks unspeakably pleased. “I wanted to see what you’d do.”
Now you do slap his tits.
“And you didn’t expect me to say that shit?!” you reprimand. He wraps his arms around you, his laughter a deep, genuine emergence from his chest. “I’m an idiot, in case you didn’t know.”
“Of course. I do know,” he suddenly deadpans. Wow. That couldn’t have come any more naturally. “I know you well, baby.”
“And yet…”
He waves your concerns off, hand soon returning to your back to pull you closer. “She’s chill. I knew you were gonna amuse her right away.”
“Oh god. You planned this… Wait. You didn’t shush her when you heard the door open, right?”
He doesn’t answer. Just keeps looking at you. And then… is he…
Is he zoning out?
“Jungkook,” you call again.
“Hm?” He stares at you beguiled, as if utterly distracted by whatever. “Sorry. Can’t hear you—”
“You so can. We’re alone and I’m speaking loud and cl—”
“Nah, you’re just so pretty. I can barely focus.”
“I hate you.”
But you don’t.
He doesn’t need to spell his intentions out for you to understand. He might be testing your patience, but there’s a hidden meaning in his words that he can’t hide as well as he intends to after all.
Because you know he just wanted you to be yourself instead of playing a different role; just like he has never pretended in front of your parents. He knows you’d try extra hard for him — but he needed you to come in and receive affection as the person that you already are.
Guess whatever you blurted was the first impression he wanted to leave of you.
“So,” you start after a moment, back to tapping his chest, “do you think I did amuse her?”
“Oh, she loved it.” Of course she did. You could see the Jeon-esque endearment in her eyes the moment you stepped into the living room. Humbles you. “She’s gonna adore you, too.”
“Ah. Like you adore me.”
Jungkook’s response arrives in the form of a long, semi-damp kiss, delivered to the corner of your mouth. You grimace, torso moving backwards at his gentle force. He adds another Mmmhhh to the gesture until you’re nearly falling off his lap, pushing him away again with a giggly, “Stop!”
He leans back with a content sigh, eliminating more of the distance between you until his head almost rests against your chest. But when you speak again, he looks up into your face.
“Hey. Your mom was saying something as she was leaving. What was it again?”
“Uhh…”
His pupils roll up in thought, one shoulder already rising to shrug, but then it drops again before he voices, “Oh… Yeah…” A break in thought; then, “I figured you’d be busy with everything going on, so I was being reluctant about asking. Didn’t wanna put you in a difficult position.”
You wait. He speaks on, “But my cousin’s getting married next month, and I’m invited.”
There’s a beat of a pause, and you anticipate, already sensing a presentiment before he spits it out—
“And you are, too.”
Hold on.
Weddings. More often than not, weddings happen in big places, filled with a great number of guests. Of friends. And… of family members.
If what he’s suggesting isn’t a hallucination, it means that’d be how you’d step into the battlefield. Attempting your best to be yourself, to charm his family with whatever strategy.
Is he thinking of the same thing?
Because you’re speechless.
You close the mouth you only now notice stood agape, trying not to show the bubbling exhilaration too blatantly. That’d be your first joyful event together.
Oh god.
You might squeal; faint of nervousness. If you could, you’d press your fists to your lips and stomp your feet and twirl your hair and—
“Wait… You want me to go to a wedding with you?” you finally ask instead, keeping your voice in a normal pitch.
“Only if you feel like it.”
“And… and you?” you inquire, wide eyes looking into his wider ones. He’s nervous, too. “Do you want me to?”
“I… yeah. I do. I really, really don’t want to go without you, actually.”
Shit.
“Where is the wedding?”
“Yeah, see, that’s why I was afraid to ask. You’re so busy and your job’s so new. But we’d—” He hesitates, as if scared of rejection. Clicks his tongue, evaluating his words. “The thing is that we’d have to drive all the way down. It’s back at home.”
You need a moment. Back at home; you’re home. Meaning, it’s not here.
Meaning, it’s in his hometown. Meaning, you wouldn’t just meet his family, but walk through a place of memories and deeply rooted, nostalgic affection, too.
Which is… such a huge fucking thing.
Especially for a girlfriend.
Eun always says it doesn’t do bringing a girlfriend or boyfriend to big events such as birthday parties or weddings. It’s disadvantageous for the pictures, she claims. Who knows how the future might play out?
But Jungkook isn’t concerned with these issues. Jungkook wants you all the way down there, lurking on streets with him that he grew up on; tripped on; played on.
These are places with core remembrances. So easily expanded when more are added to them in later years; and so easily shattered when hearts break.
But a heart breaking is not an option, is it? Not anymore.
“You’re… taking me to your hometown?” you ask. You immediately realise the choice of words, and don’t hesitate as you add, “I mean. You’d be taking me home. You’d like to—”
“Is that—” he interrupts, suddenly unsure, “bad? Did it change your mind? You don’t have to, I promise.”
“No. I actually might cry.”
His expression momentarily softens, a big, clear Awwwh written in it. Gentle fingers brush your hair back, observing the vulnerability in your eyes. But shit, you mean it.
You could cry.
Because you talked about this so long ago.
Back when he was miles away, yet so deeply settled in your heart. Sneaking his way into your head, eating you up inside. When he broke off a piece of you and took it with him as he left, no relief for weeks on end.
And when he came back, he promised he’d take you with him one day.
Is that it? Is that now?
“Fuck,” you curse under a quiet laugh, confused by the burning in your eyes.
Jungkook’s hand brushes over your cheek, eyebrows slightly cocked. He might not have expected you to react with such… emotion. You hadn’t either.
“Hey,” his voice soothes, “don’t cry. It’ll be good. And if it’s not, or if you don’t want to, we can just stay here and never go again.”
You’re gonna sob. How did you deserve him?
Of course you want to go. Of course you’d make the best of it. No fibre in you wants to reject his offer.
In fact, you’re already daydreaming. Because…
How’s it gonna be? Will you see more stars there? Will his family like you? His Dad like you? And what are weddings with boyfriends like? Will you be seeing him in every flower in the hall, in every kiss the couple shares?
“No,” you say, “I’ll go. I will go because you’re too obsessed with me to leave without me.”
Jungkook chuckles immediately, but not speaking before rolling his eyes, “And you’re a brat.”
You wait a moment, smiling in unison with him, and then ask, “Honestly, I… I’d love to. Can I just still ask…” You’re curious; but you also want to keep feeling that warmth. More tranquillity from his words. “Why would you not go without me?”
He doesn’t stall.
“Because it’s such a big event, and… so far away. I don’t want to leave you here. And the thought of being at the most lovey-dovey place without my favourite person sucks.”
You’ll freaking screech.
“Jungkook!”
Half of the name is muffled when your lips drop to the crook of his neck, back uncomfortably arching and face heating up. Your ass threatens to fall back on the couch, legs still over his, and he hugs you close as he snickers again.
He shakes your body gently, trying to lift your face. Calling your name when your breath tickles his skin, asking, “Are we embarrassed?”
“No.”
But when you look at him again, your smile is wide enough to freeze your muscles in place. He shakes his head, flooded with aching joy, and makes sure again, “So you want to go, yeah? Don’t need time to think or something? It’s okay if you do.”
“As if. I really wanna go. I’m gonna make this,” you touch his collarbones, then your own, “work.”
He smiles. Grants you a short break to organise your thoughts. And while what you query next shouldn’t come as a surprise, it does introduce a delighted shift in mood.
“What am I gonna wear?”
Jungkook puffs out a breath.
You don’t notice; your focus drifts, directed to the carpet. You mentally scurry your closet, quietly trying to recall appropriate attire for weddings. Which is odd, because you should have the entire catalogue of your and every other place cemented in your mind.
“What do I wear?” you repeat, back to looking at him, barely allowing him a moment to think. “And don’t say anything would look good on me. Serious answers only.”
“You know a question like this prompts nothing but unserious answers from m—”
“Kook—”
“Okay. I mean, you have such pretty dresses. Lemme just choose one and we’re supplied.”
It’s an easy idea; fair enough. Only, you’re barely listening, earning a side-eye from Jungkook when you say, “I should buy a new one.”
Which still doesn’t deter him, though. “Cool. I’ll go with you then.”
“Or will I seem overdressed?”
“It’s a wedding, baby. Overdress like hell.”
“And… if I’m underdressed?”
“You’re still gonna be the hottest around!” he exclaims, and you flinch just a little. He’s not truly agitated, but there’s playful frustration in his voice, a grin around his lips. “Don’t worry about the dress, okay? It won’t stay on you anyway.”
Jungkook expects you to react with similar scolding, using it to hide how timidly flattered you actually are. But you’re too fired up, restless in his grip as your voice grows shriller, “I’m so. Fuck, I’m so excited!”
“I am, too. But…”
His palm moves up and down your back, one eye squinting shut as you start swaying a bit, pumped with serotonin. Like a thrilled child. You’re so…
He lowers his gaze; you might just see the heart eyes otherwise.
“Okay, hey,” he tries again, calming you as his fingers grasp your wrist. “Should we go to bed for now, though?”
You wait with your answer, relaxing your body. Stopping your elevated sounds, you draw the deepest breath in history, and then breathe out a whispery, “Yeah.”
“Yeah. Good. Oh.”
“Hm?”
“You haven’t actually been to the bedroom yet, right?”
“Oh…”
True. Since you came home, you only conversed with his mother, then rushed to take a shower as she left, still filled with prickling and nervous emotions. And then you hurried back to him, starving, eating, watching TV.
And now you’re here.
Was something different about the bedroom, though? You don’t think so.
“You’re right,” you tell him, “no, not really. Just to shower. Why?”
“Just…”
“…What?”
“Okay. Hold onto me.”
“Hold ont— oh, f—”
You gasp for air when two strong arms replace his soft hands, settling under your kneepits and around your back. He shifts dangerously on the couch, moving forward before he starts to lift with a self-motivating grunt.
“And— off we go.”
You sling your arms around his neck immediately, hiding, letting out a panicked, ”Be careful, I’m sli—”
“All good. Relax.” His arms wrap more properly around your limbs, and you dare to listen. Allowing your legs to dangle, you let him carry you calmly, breathing air through O-shaped lips. “Good girl. I won't just let you fall.”
“You better not.”
“No. Just wait.”
He looks at you with a comical grin, throwing a kiss into the air and down to you. Using your feet to kick the door open, he halts at the threshold; for a second, he looks… up.
And just when he finally enters the room, you quietly follow his gaze. The question as to what to wait for gets stuck in your throat when you realise what it is he needed you to see.
Holy shit.
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the chapter isn't over yet – much to go!! tumblr just doesn't allow more than 1k blocks/paragraphs. apologies for the scrolling, but i promise it's worth it :'D here's the rest! <3
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anothertimdrakestan · 2 years ago
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Pinky Promise - Damian Wayne x Reader !Soulmate AU
~ where your birthmark is where you'll first touch your soulmate ~
A pinky finger is an odd place to have a soulmate mark. Most people had full hands, a set of lips marked on their cheek, or a hand print on their hip. Yet yours was just the length of your left hand pinky finger.
No matter, you'd had the habit of locking pinky's with people since you were born. Call it natural habit or a desperation to link fingers with your soulmate, it was your thing.
So when you started your internship at the Bludhaven Police Department Sheriff's office and got finger printed you didn't think anything of it when officer Grayson paused on your last finger.
"This your soulmate mark?" he gestured to your pinky, which was darker than the rest of your skin colour.
"Funny right! Just the pinky. Most people have normal ones! Where's yours? Wait. Is it on your lips?" you glanced up at the officer with a grin as he flushed.
"We all meet our soulmates in strange ways." he mumbled with a smile.
"Truth or dare? Or Suck and Blow? It had to be a party game right?" you leaned in as Officer Grayson pressed your pinky into ink.
"It was more of a greeting, she's not from around here so it was her way of saying hello." he stated, eyes twinkling with a familiar joy. God you wanted that. He continued, "I'll tell you, I know a kid with a pinky mark too. Cant remember which hand though. I'll bring him in soon, though neither of you seem like each other's type." you noticed his brows furrowed thinking about the "kid" he mentioned.
"Bring him in like, a bad guy? Not sure that's my type! I'm just here to learn about forensics!" you giggled. The officer just shook his head and told you to go start reviewing the steps to finger print collection and storage. Sounded super fun and interesting (not).
Turns out there's a lot to learn about crime forensics. By the end of the day you had a backpack full of materials to study on your transit ride back to Gotham. Hiking up fire escapes to the top of your apartment building, you decided to study via the lights from the top of your building. Nothing like the haze of Gotham to comfort you through pages of reading.
"Glad to see you're back." A familiar voice chided from your side.
"C'mon, you're excited to see me!" you grinned into the darkness, willing the shadowy figure to come forward. Like usual, he did.
"Good to see you, Robin." you waved with a teasing smile as he visibly shook his head.
"Can't say the same Y/N. I had more peaceful nights when you weren't here. What's got you up late this time?" he grumbled, keeping his distance as you held up your bunches of papers exclaiming "studying! Always studying."
"And you can't do that from the safety of your apartment?" he questioned. You shook your head no in response. "Need I remind you of the multiple times I've had to throw people off this balcony for you?" he yawned, gesturing to the ledge of the rooftop.
"Aren't I so lucky you're protecting me!" you teased. He wasn't wrong, sketchy people had on more than one occasion lurked on top the Gotham's tallest buildings, but you enjoyed the view and trusted Robin far too much to change your place of comfort.
"Protecting Gotham." he retorted, moving towards the rooftop to jump towards a night full of crime fighting. You never tried to stop him from leaving, you still thought it was insane that he even paused to talk to you, so you just waved and watched as he launched into darkness. Curling back up with your notes you appreciated the blanket of safety his presence had placed on you.
~
"Damian I'm telling you she has the mark on her pinky!" Dick screeched, chasing after Damian who was not willing to hear anything he had to say. "What do I care Grayson? I don't want a soulmate, I'm busy," he retorted, cascading through the batcave to get away from Dick's prying eyes.
"Just let me see! I wanna know!" Dick cried but Damian had already slammed his door closed.
"Word on the street is Dames found a rooftop girl. You didn't hear it from me though." Tim called from the adjacent room. The two were usually stuck on patrol together so it did make sense. But Dick still couldn't believe it.
"Which goddamn rooftop." Dick's voice was a low hum, the determination dripping from his tongue. He had a theory.
~
"Morning Officer Grayson!" you called down the hallways of the BPD office. You'd finally gotten a full night of sleep last night because you had finished studying a couple days ago, free from the piles of work. Your morning glee quickly dissipated when you were promptly handed a stack of papers and binders.
"You're doing great work, so we're moving you up to sample analysis. Lots of reading for ya!" the officer sounded congratulatory as he handed you the piles of paperwork. You couldn't deny, this was what you wanted, but it was definitely more work than you could do in one day. Needless to say, you hoped you'd get to see a familiar bird brain that night.
~
Cozying up on the rooftop you were so deep into the inner-workings of a microscope you hardly noticed the shadowy figure that had appeared across from you.
"Studying again are we?" Robin's snarky voice made you jump, eyes snapping to his face. "Tons of work! Calls for an all nighter, what about you?" you simply replied.
"Patrol." His response was curt but you wanted more this time.
"What after? Tell me- what does a hero do in his free time?" you leaned in with a teasing smile. To your surprise Robin leaned back against the railing and responded "I like to draw." Giving you more of a key into him than you'd ever gotten.
"I'm a terrible artist but I bet you're amazing! Keen eyes and steady hands always make for good art. You should show me sometime! If you want!" you rambled with a grin. You figured it would be an automatic no, but the corner of his mouth twitched up, almost like a smile as he said, "maybe I will." Something blossomed in your chest.
"Well, you're always welcome here! Like, all night. It's brutal." you joked, gesturing at the piles of papers in your lap.
"I may just take you up on that, my brother has been overwhelmingly obnoxious at home. Have a good night." Robin muttered as he left over the rooftop railing once again. You smiled to yourself, he likes to draw and he has a brother? Fascinating.
You were practically asleep in your notes when you felt something bump into your chest. A surprisingly elegant paper airplane. From the shadows you could see Robin sitting across from you, back against the rooftop railing, a notepad and pencil in his arms as he starred up at you.
"What? You were practically snoring." he said matter-of-factly.
"For the record, I do not snore. Also, how'd you make this? It's beautiful!" you exclaimed, delicately holding up the paper airplane to appreciate the little curves of the thick paper.
"I was into origami for a while. It's almost mathematical, very satisfying." his reply was short again, seemingly focused on the sketching at hand. So you fell into silence with him, focusing up on your note taking.
You didn't exactly notice the sun starting to rise. It was hard to see in Gotham, smog and all, but the inkling of light from the hazy sky gave you a clearer picture of the boy wonder then you'd ever gotten.
It felt strange but he was gorgeous. Silky black hair tousled from running his hands through it in between pencil scratches, when he was focused he bit the inside of his cheek, eyebrows knit into determination. You appreciated the reds and yellows of his costume, noting the various weapons hitched across his body. But the rest was hidden. Whether behind his domino mask, his suit, or his silence.
"It's rude to stare at a working artist" he grumbled, chin tilting up to show that his eyes were meeting yours.
"You've never stayed this long." you replied breathlessly. Squirming in your chair, knowing that you couldn't get any closer without him running off.
"Your presence isn't, unbearable, for what it's worth." his voice was so low but you could hear the sincerity in his voice. "Same to you." you whispered back, letting your tired eyes drift back to your notes which were pretty much done. It was an all nighter after all.
It felt like a few minutes but the billowing light from the rising sun told you it had been longer, and your head was severely drooping into your lap. "Y/n, you need sleep. Go to bed," his voice was warm but stern, enough to get you to lazily collect your papers and stand up with a yawn.
"Well! Thanks for hanging with me!" deliriously you held out your fist, Robin tilted his head to the side in confusion. You chuckled, "it's a fist bump dumbass." And to your surprise he closed the distance between the two of you, and slowly touched his knuckled to yours. His gloves were cold but you were focused on the fact that you were just inches from the boy wonder.
But a few seconds was all you got to realize how much taller he was than you before he melted back into the shadows. You stood stunned for a moment before stumbling back to your apartment, desperate for sleep.
~
"You look like hell kid" Officer Grayson greeted you with a questioning look as you waved him off of you. "Your fault for giving me hours of reading buddy." He grinned glancing down at the now filled notebook you'd brought to work. "You actually look dead kid, on lunch break we'll grab coffee," you rolled your eyes at his promise but knew you needed the caffeine.
Getting to know Officer Grayson, Dick, was surprisingly rewarding. He had years of experience and hundreds of stories that had you folded over from laughter. But there was something you were begging to learn more about, someone rather.
"Have you worked with Robin much?" your question broke the calm silence. Dick's eyes shone with some sort of pride, "I have, yeah. Good kid. Cold as hell but a damn good hero." and you nodded in reply, although cold wasn't exactly the way you'd describe Robin.
Dick's eyes lit up at something behind you, he shot up out of his cafe chair and said "look what the cat dragged! Glad to see you lil bro!" A loud enough exclamation that you turned around and locked eyes with a boy with jet black hair and piercing green eyes. The boy stood stunned at the door, starring at you and Dick before slowly approaching, eyes trained to yours before Dick pulled him into a hug. Immediately, he pushed himself out of Dick's embrace with a scowl, you couldn't help but grin at the reaction.
"Y/N meet Damian, Dames this is Y/N she's an intern at the office! Damian has classes over here so I figured we'd catch him during our break!" Dick babbled as he forcefully guided Damian into the seat next to him. Damian looked almost stunned, eyes flicking between you and his brother.
You broke Dick's rambling saying "Hi! You're a student too?" and he nodded slowly, glancing between you and Dick. "Studying what?" you tried to guide the conversation but he interrupted:
"You live in the area?"
"Nope, Gotham."
"Oh, me too." was all Damian muttered before his name was called, and he shot up, mumbling a "nice to meet you" and giving Dick another glare. Dick just grinned in response and the two of you soon headed back to the office.
~
"You had no right to do that!" Damian's roar was echoing in the cave that night. He'd just finished throwing almost everything on his person at Dick who was still uncontrollably laughing.
"C'mon Dames, were you just gonna visit your soulmate every once and a while on a rooftop for the rest of your life? Make a move lil bro. You're Bruce's kid you've got to have some game!" Dick teased back before a stray batarang was lobbed towards him.
"I've got it handled." Damian retorted angrily.
"Fine. fine. But blame Tim cuz he's the one who snitched on the rooftop hookups." Dick cooed before ducking out of the room to avoid further assault. Another screech filled the cave.
~
A few nights later, you were perched on the rooftop once again. This time you didn't have nearly enough work, but were hoping a certain distraction would stick around this time.
And he did.
"Hey" his voice was soft, and your head rose from your book to smile into the shadows.
"Hi! Whatcha got?" you noticed the silhouette was holding something.
"Come see." you could hear his chest rumbling. You felt like you were floating towards the thick railing of the rooftop.
And there he was again. Holding a sketchpad.
"You brought drawings!" you cooed, grinning as he inched closer, leather gloves flipping pages as you drank in the beautiful sketches, watercolours, and poems that filled the pages.
"What do you think?" he whispered, you swore warmth was vibrating off of him, just a few inches away from each other.
"They're beautiful" you quietly replied. He flipped another page, and it was a pencil sketch of you half asleep in your studies, on the rooftop. "From the other night!" you giggled, delicately tracing the sketch with your pinky. Robin drew a sharp breath, loud enough that your eyes were drawn up to his domino mask.
"I've got one more sketch to show you. But, I fear you won't like it." his head dropped slightly, his gloved hand toying with the bottom of the paper, as if debating whether or not to flip it.
"I'll be okay! Promise." you nudged his shoulder, holding up your pinky, a true promise, and a dangerous solution to the question making you dizzy standing next to him.
He shook his head, "look first, promise after" to which you nodded, dropping your hand and eyes to the paper.
As the page turned, you couldn't help but gasp. On the last page of the sketchbook, in the most intricate detail, were two hands. Pinky's locked.
"Take your glove off." you shot your gaze back to the hero.
"Wait." he took a step back.
You took one forward, reaching for the glove yourself.
Back again. "Y/N, wait." you froze at your name on his tongue.
"You and I both know what's under my glove, but I'm giving you an out. I've sat here for months thinking about doing this, wanting to do this. But, you deserve someone who doesn't throw their life away, who can be there for you, someone who isn't... isn't me" he gestured to his outfit, stocked with weapons.
"Who can be there for me? You've protected me more than anyone else in my life. Someone who deserves me? I'm not a trophy, I'm, I'm your soulmate."
"I know, but-" he began but you weren't finished:
"All I deserve, is someone who can love me. Can you do that?" you closed the distance, and he didn't back away.
"It's all I've ever done." he whispered. Delicately, you reached for his hand. He let you draw it from his side, holding desperately still as you peeled the glove from his left hand. And there, in the same pattern as yours, stood his mark.
"You promise?" you gave a small smile, holding up your pinky for the final time.
"Always." he closed the distance, locking your hands together as a warmth like you'd never felt spread through your hand, dancing up your arm, and bursting in your chest.
"Oh my god do you feel that?" you asked breathlessly, your right hand touching your chest.
He nodded, letting your hands drop as his right hand tilted your chin up, your eyes once again meeting a mask.
"I never thought I'd ever do this" his voice was soft, drinking in your closeness to him.
"I would've found you" you said with a grin, you had always had the sixth sense that Robin's visits to your study sessions were more than patrol.
He scoffed, "yeah my brother was gonna make sure of it."
"Your brother?" you dug deeper, fighting the itch to reach up for the mask he wore, your heart begging to see his eyes.
You felt him tug his pinky from yours, "I suppose a promise is a promise." he reached up for you, pulling the mask from his face as familiar green eyes met yours.
"Oh. My god." your jaw dropped, fitting the puzzle together.
"I guess the universe decided I was taking too long and put Richard Grayson on job. I must apologize for the coffee shop, I wasn't expecting to see my Gothamite soulmate seated across from my brother, in Bludhaven. " he sighed, eyes twinkling. You laughed in agreement.
"Quite the wingman" you mused.
Damian nodded, closing the distance as he said "don't ever tell him, but I'm thinking he was right all along" before pressing his lips to yours.
~
Weeks later you were far less sleep deprived, still loving your job in Bludhaven. Especially because a certain student was always waiting to pick you up for the ride home.
"Hi Dames!" you strolled up to your now boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his cheek while he locked your pinky in his, the two of you strolling towards the cafe that has become your shared favorite place. Settling down in a booth, you both fell into routine: sketching and studying while enjoying the other's presence.
A crazy few weeks, a huge change to your life, but a good one nonetheless. You had to hand it to-
"I knew you lovebirds would be here!" The bell on the cafe door rang, drawing you and Damian out of your focus. Damian rolled his eyes with a scoff and you gave Dick a wave.
Dick was stroll strutting around, "call me cupid the way I matched you two up!" he crooned.
Damian dryly replied, "Richard we are quite literally soulmates." but the oaf wasn't listening, too busy pretending to shoot you both with an invisible bow "cupid style".
You smiled to yourself, if only Dick knew how grateful you and Damian were to have each other... thank to him.
~~~
A/N: pure fluff for your timeline <3 hope you enjoyed!
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grimm-writings · 7 months ago
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I really like how you write. Can I have some Tall-man Chilchuck crumbs?🙏
don’t see, don’t think
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…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, reader is having a crisis, reader’s race and race change is left ambiguous (but implied to NOT be a half foot)
…wc! 571
…notes! JUST IN TIME BEFORE THE EPISODE ITSELF GRAGGGGHH!!!! apologies for the wait anon!!! enjoy your crumbs
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Don’t see it, don’t think it, don’t see it, don’t think it, don’t see it—
“Why are you staring at the wall?”
The deeper voice is so unfamiliar that it leaves you nearly leaping into the air like a cat.  You know it to be Chilchuck, and yet you can’t bring yourself to turn away from said wall you were fixating your eyes on.
“...Just coming to terms with this new form is all,” you awkwardly excuse yourself.  More like you’re trying to come to terms with Chilchuck’s new form.
You were close with the lockpick, more than you were with anyone else in the party.  Never in your life did you really come to think of Chilchuck as attractive.  Maybe it’s the difference in race?
Those damn changelings, if it weren’t for this new perspective on the man you would have been fine.  You wouldn’t find yourself thinking about how he has a stubble, slightly darker than his reddish-brown hair.  You wouldn’t notice the fact he’s definitely taller than Laios was as a tall man.  You wouldn’t be melting at how his voice altered, and you absolutely wouldn’t be trying your best not to be a complete mess around him.
Chilchuck doesn’t seem to notice, though.  At least with this sudden change, his senses dulled.  So seems to be the case with how observant he is.  “Figures,” he sighs, folding his arms.  “It’s definitely a lot to get used to.”
As his sentence draws close to a murmur, Chilchuck’s voice lowers a bit more in pitch.  You had to stop yourself from facing the wall and banging your head against it.
Good God, why did this have to happen to you?!
“Mhm!” You agree with a hum.  If you don’t open your mouth, there isn’t a way for you to say something you’ll regret.
That doesn’t stop Chilchuck from going, “hey,” and you find that he’s adjusting your bodies around in a way that you can be eye level, face to face with one another.
Don’t see it, don’t think it, don’t see it, don’t think it, don’t see it— 
His eyes are still that familiar colour, a dark brown with a slight shine to them.  The lines underneath them crease as he sends you a fond smile.
“Don’t let this freak you out too much, yeah?”  Chilchuck reassures you, but you’re hardly listening as you note now at the short distance he has a dimple on his chin.  How cute.  “We’ll find some way to get rid of the, uh, ailment, ok?”
He laughs a little at his own choice of words, and you try to do so too.  It comes out awkward and forced, but Chilchuck just gives your shoulder a squeeze to show that it’s alright.
He walks ahead, leaving you at your wit’s end.  This truly is the death of you.
Izutsumi doggedly (quite literally) reaches your side, if only to give you a judgemental sidelong glance.
“Didn’t think you’d have a thing for rugged guys you’d usually find in a back alley.”
You turn around and wrap your hands around Izutsumi’s snout, keeping her mouth shut as she flails in anger.  This definitely needed to be fixed soon, and quickly too, lest you lose your senses entirely.
Trying not to look at Chilchuck definitely isn’t doing you any favours anymore either; his face is etched into your mind permanently (and will be for days after.)
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haoboutyou · 8 months ago
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hello!!! I really enjoy your fics and was wondering if you could do wonwoo, cheol & mingyu where they're crushing on you? separate ones!!
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when they have a crush on you | hhu
fluff | 1278 words (300-ish per member) | no warnings
an: hihi! hope this is what you're looking for! it took me a while ngl I have new-found respect for headcanon writers T-T + added vernon because 🤷🏽‍♀️
divider credit
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1. Choi Seungcheol
He carries your bags for you. 
You’re not sure when it started, but you’ve noticed that Seungcheol would always carry your bags for you, even despite your insistence. It’s like he’s made it his own personal mission to carry your stuff for you, even when you’re out with others. of course, this came hand in hand with the other guys teasing you two whenever you hung out. It doesn’t help that Jeonghan often jokes that Seungcheol’s crush on you is an open secret, but the boy in question wouldn’t even dispel his best friend’s words, flushing bright red every time.
“Seungcheol, give me that!”
Seungcheol stops in his tracks, causing you to bump into his back. The equipment in the box clinks against each other as he turns around, facing you. Wordlessly, he dumps the box into your waiting arms, smirking when you almost topple over at the unexpected weight. 
“I told you, sweetheart; leave the heavy lifting to me.”
You glance up at him, a slight blush from the unexpected nickname. When did he start calling you that? A bead of sweat glistens on your brow as you brush that thought away, your expression a mix of defiance and sheepishness. 
"I can manage," you mumble, trying your hardest to conceal the struggle in your tone.
He can’t shake off the apprehension swirling within him. He had warned you, hadn't he? Yet, you continue to persist, your determination outmatching your physical strength. Concern floods Seungcheol as he watches the way your arms tremble at the weight of the box. 
He approaches you, gently but firmly emphasising again. "I told you, y/n.” With a resigned sigh, he reached out, his hands enveloping the box, effortlessly lifting it from your grasp. "Stubborn as ever," his voice's a certain fondness, tugging at your heart for no apparent reason.
You watch him, a mixture of gratitude and embarrassment colouring your features as he continues walking away with the box. Eh, what harm is an extra hand?
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2. Jeon Wonwoo
He lets you win in games.
Wonwoo’s proud of his in-game skills; he’s not afraid to say his reflexes sharp and his strategies are flawless. He’s rather good too– having high rankings in the server makes him cocky, Seungcheol likes to say. But as he glanced at his crush beside him, he notices the slight furrow of your brow, a hint of frustration clouding your features as you struggle to keep up.
A pang of empathy tugs at his heart. Wonwoo did ask you to join him at the internet cafe; he only wishes that you would learn to enjoy the game as much as he did. And so, in a split-second decision, he dials back his intensity, purposely taking on more hits to level the playing field.
Your eyes widened in surprise as you suddenly found your character gaining ground, rallying against the opposing team with newfound vigor. Unbeknownst to you, Wonwoo was subtly adjusting his tactics– allowing you to seize the advantage, all the while maintaining the illusion of competition.
Your team wins. Across you, Jihoon whoops in joy. “That’s foul!” Chan baulks opposite Wonwoo, clicking away furiously on his keyboard. Wonwoo smirks as he leans back in his chair, the loser banner blinking brightly on his screen. Arms stretching up, he leans over his monitor to peek your screen.
Your eyes seemed to shine brighter than the screen in front of you. Contrary to the boy next to you, your monitor flashes an animated victory banner.
“I did it! We–I did it!” you clap your hands together, grinning ear to ear. You lean towards Wonwoo to bump shoulders with him. 
He chuckles, arms crossing behind his head as he leans back in his seat. “Yes, you did!”
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3. Chwe Vernon
He gets you medicine.
“Here.” A box drops in front of you, breaking the concentration you had on your laptop in front of you. 
You look up from your screen in confusion. “What’s this?” 
Vernon nudges the box of painkillers in front of you. He settles down on the chair opposite yours, acknowledging Seungkwan seated beside you. 
“You said you had a headache.” He acts nonchalant as he dives into conversation with his best friend, but the heavy blush creeping up his neck suggests otherwise. Yes, you had texted him earlier asking if he had painkillers on him, but you recalled him replying a plain ‘no’. Either he was lying (you doubt it– why would Vernon lie to you?) or he had stopped by a pharmacy just to pick up some for you.
You’re slightly flushing now, and not because of the dull throbbing in your head. Sure, Seungkwan had fed into your delusion earlier, suggesting that Vernon might have a crush on you– but there’s no way that’s, right?
You sneak a glance at your two best friends in front of you, now engaging in a deep argument about potatoes. Vernon’s brows furrow even deeper but soften when he realises you’re looking his way. The shy smile he sends your way causes cartwheels in your stomach before replacing it with an exaggerated gasp directed to Seungkwan’s way. 
You bury your head back into your laptop, mumbling a quick thanks before trying to focus on your work. Still, you can’t shake off what Seungkwan said about your best friend.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think Vernon has a crush on you.”
“That’s ridiculous, Kwan. He sees me as a friend, just like you.”
Seungkwan wiggles his eyebrows, choosing to scroll on his phone instead half-heartedly. “Sure, Jan,” he scoffs.
You slink back deeper in your seat. That can’t be true, right?
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4. Kim Mingyu
He gets jealous of others.
Mingyu watches from across the cafe as you laugh at something Seokmin said, your smile radiant, eyes sparkling with amusement. He feels a knot tighten in his stomach– a familiar pang of jealousy gnawing at his insides. Aren’t you standing a little bit too close for comfort? Your easy camaraderie is triggering a surge of insecurity within him.
Seokmin is charming, there is no denying it. He has a way with words, a magnetic-like personality that drew people in effortlessly. And you seem rather captivated, hanging on to his every word. Usually, your laughter rings out like music to Mingyu’s ears. Today, though, it was all a cacophony of discord. A reminder of what he could be missing out on.
He clenches his fists, trying to push down the rising tide of jealousy threatening to consume him. Mingyu knows he had no right to feel this way; you aren’t his to claim, and Seokmin had every right to befriend you. But logic did very little to quell the sudden surge of possessiveness coursing through his veins.
So he sits, pouting on his own until you notice him from the corner of your eye. He stares you down with his big puppy eyes until you sigh and walk over to your best friend. Your hand can’t help but run through his soft dark hair.
“What’s wrong, Gyu?”
“Hmm?” he leans into your touch, nuzzling against the palm of your hand. “Nothing, Y/n.”
You shoot him a condescending look. “Yeah? You shooting Seokmin daggers with your eyes for nothing?” Your eyes flutter shut as you sigh, shaking your heard in disbelief. Then, ruffling his hair, “If you say so, Gyu.” 
“Anyways,” Mingyu clears his throat, looking up at the cafe’s menu board. “Have you decided what to get? My treat today!” 
“Really?!” Your eyes sparkle, glad you won’t have to open your wallet today. “Help me finish the then cakes, okay? Promise!” 
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mystic-writings · 1 year ago
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request: Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn’t help but steal it for female!reader x hasan xxx
i've been thinking about this a lot recently ngl i don't know how i haven't written it yet so thank you for the request anon ily | also it does get like. a tad bit steamy toward the end but it's just making out tbh
his clothes | hasanabi x fem!reader | ~850 words
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There were many perks to having a giant for a boyfriend. Being easily lifted from the ground for no reason was one of your favourites, and so was the fact that when you cuddled, Hasan either squished you completely or his arms secured you to his chest with a firm comfort you’d never experienced. But the best one was his clothes. 
Hasan was a fashionable guy, but he did own a fair share of t-shirts and hoodies. A lot of them were his merch designs, or things he’s owned forever, but somehow, all of them were extremely comfortable when you wore them. 
Since Hasan streamed so frequently, and you normally didn’t have much to do, you’d resort to getting things done around the house to keep yourself from going crazy. So far, you cleaned the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher with last night’s dinner mess, and cleaned the living room and the bedrooms. Quickly, you took Kaya outside to pee and fed her lunch, scratching the top of her head before going to the laundry room to tackle the load you put in the dryer this morning. 
It was all a mix of yours and Hasan’s clothes, since you sorted all of it by colours, whites, and darks. Staring into the basket of clothes you pulled out and were now folding was like looking into an abyss. Most of it was yours, leggings and hoodies and socks. But a few items were your boyfriends. Including his himbo gym shirt. Even just holding it up to fold it, you could tell it was huge. 
Then, an idea sprouted in your mind, one that you couldn’t resist. Peeling off the shirt you were wearing, you threw on the one in your hands. Instantly, you were swimming in it, the hem of it nearly reaching your mid-thigh. If you chose to wear shorts instead of black leggings this morning, they wouldn’t have been visible under the shirt. 
After that, you continued with laundry, folding it and bringing it all upstairs to put it away. Once it was done, you took some time to decompress with Kaya, watching tv with her head on your lap, sleeping peacefully. Faintly, you could hear Hasan shouting upstairs; whether he was grilling chat or yelling about whatever he was covering, you didn’t know. It quieted just as you headed to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. 
Checking your watch as you unscrewed the cap, you realised that Hasan was probably taking the ad break. And as if your thoughts summoned him, you could hear his footsteps clamouring down the stairs, headed right to you. 
“Babe, do we have any more of those chocolate protein bars left? I’m starving-” he stopped himself short at the sight of you, practically drowning in his shirt. 
You smiled at him, screwing the cap back on your water bottle. “We should, I saw some in the cupboard last night.” When you noticed Hasan still staring at you, your smile widened. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just-” Hasan seemed to shake out of his stupor. “God, you look amazing in my shirt.”
You giggled as he approached you, hands instinctively resting on your hips as he pulled you closer, towering over you. “I was doing the laundry and it just looked so much more comfortable than the one I was wearing,”
Hasan sighed and leaned into you, forehead resting on the top of yours as his eyes shut. “God, I love you. You know that?”
“I think I do. Might need some reminding, though.” You spoke quietly, keeping the words between the two of you, as if anyone else could hear. 
Hasan was quick with his actions, instantly capturing your lips with his. There was no denying the passion and love he poured into the kiss, which quickly turned into peppering kisses all over your cheeks and jaw. With his hands still on your hips, Hasan guided you to the counter, pinning you there gently as his lips travelled to your neck and your hands into his hair. 
You often treasured moments like these, when Hasan wasn’t afraid to show his love for you in any capacity. Even if the moments happened often. 
But it didn’t take long for you to remember what he was supposed to be doing instead of this. Tugging his hair, you brought Hasan’s lips back to yours, muttering between kisses. “As much as I love this, and I really do, aren’t you supposed to be streaming?”
He groaned between kisses, unwilling to go back to his office to actually work. “I know, I know.” 
Slowly, he pulled away from you, and you stifled your giggles at his appearance. Still, he reached into the cupboard behind you for a protein bar and watched him jog his way back to his streaming room. 
The chat surely bullied him for his flushed cheeks, his swollen lips, and dishevelled hair. There was no doubt, though, that Hasan would have better comebacks than they did. And to him, it was entirely worth the few extra minutes he kept his chat waiting.
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vrystalius · 2 months ago
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hello! your halloween event sounds super cute, can i please request going trick-or-treating with gyutaro shabana? 🩷🩷 love your work and really admire you as a person and a writer, please take care!
Trick or Treating with Gyutaro.
The only day of the year where he can feel a little more confident in his own skin.
Pairing: Gyutaro x gn!reader
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Gyutaro was staring at you while you were leaning closer towards your mirror, trying to paint the birthmarks of his perfectly onto your face. You wanted to match with him while going out to trick or treat, much to his surprise. He thought you might be ashamed to go out with him or go out with Daki. But after asking his sister if she’d like to go out, she bashed him for treating her like a child. He beat himself up for upsetting his sister like that, so you suggested you two could go together! Gyutaro looks a scary and special, like a really cool costume! What he would’ve taken as an insult any other day was now perceived as a compliment. The excitement especially started bubbling up in his stomach while watching you try to match him so badly. You spend hours trying to mix up the correct foundation colour on his palm until you finally managed to kind of recreate his skin colour.
After an hour of work, you and your boyfriend were finally matching! Although your posture and body type is not exactly the same, the resemblance was still there. Now all you two have to do is wait until the sun goes down and he is finally able to leave to house. But until then, Gyutaro has gotten awfully cuddly. He didn’t bother to explain why the sudden affection because you were to distracted trying to shield your face to not smudge your make-up. He couldn’t stop staring at the black spots and markings you copied. They made him feel like you two were bonded now, like soulmates. You had a piece of him marked on you now, even if it is just temporary and supposed to be a scary costume, it still made him feel all warm and fuzzy how hard you were trying to imitate his marks.
After night finally came, Gyutaro kept snickering and laughing at the sad excuses of costumes some random kids put together. Your boyfriend also found immense joy in scaring toddlers. He straightened his back to make himself even taller and would flash his teeth, giggling and silently showing off his sharp nails. Those poor kids ran back to their mother or to wherever they came from. Why are there even kids in the entertainment district?
You were a little envious at how much candy Gyutaro was scoring. His success was either because people found him to have a very convincing costume (with his waist looking so inhumane and his skin looking so sickly all over his body), or because he was silently threatening the home owners to hand over all of their remaining sweets. That way you can enjoy the most amount and no other stupid kids can eat them. Maybe you can hand out some candy in Daki’s brothel if you don’t want to keep the multiple buckets of candy. Gyutaro saw how little candy you were getting in comparison to him and proceeded to slip some over into your bucket everytime you’re not paying attention. It was making him happy seeing your eyes lit up when glancing into the bucket and finally noticing how your amount increased by a lot. That last guy sure gave you a lot of candy, huh? Or at least that’s what your boyfriend made you think to keep you happy.
“Here, t-take my stuff. I can’t eat it anyway… B-But can I watch you sort it through though? I wanna s-see what kinda candy I can get ya for the f-future…”
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I’m going to be real with you, one of my closest friends has the EXACT same pfp as you, and when I saw the notification that you started following me, I thought you were her 😭 I was really confused and scared for a day or two XD (my friends aren’t aware of this blog yet). Also, don’t be shy to send in some requests for this event! <33
Anyways, I love Gyutaro, but also EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!
Take care of yourselves <3
Here’s my event masterlist 🎃
Here’s my Trick or Treat event 🎃
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adoregojo · 1 year ago
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⋆。𖦹°‧ late night talk ➝ nagi seishiro ✶
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can't believe i never wrote for nagi.. content ➠ fluff, fluff and more fluff. kinda short.. :'3
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"am i sloppy looking?"
nagi light voice called, you weren't sure if it was a dream because it was around 3am and a half and your vision was blurry from heavy sleep. you opened your eyes a little to be met with your boyfriend facing the ceiling instead of you looking down and in deep thoughts.
"sei..it's too late to have a night talk." your voice was raspy and clearly still drowsy.
"but i wanna know, am i unattractive looking?" your boyfriend asked with his usual plant voice. even when nagi wasn't that good with showing emotions yet you always told him his eyes were an open window and tells enough, he was a little frown that you almost didn't notice.
"and since when did the nagi seishiro care about looks?" you stated, at least trying to lighten up the mode.
"I don't, i care what you think." he explained.
you were taken off by his words that causes the sleep to flow away. you never thought that the day will come and nagi ask you a question like that, you didn't remember saying anything about his looks specifically about him being dreary looking, his eyes remained dry and drained, like something was eating him alive that it didn't allow him to close his eyes. you were never hesitant to tell him he looked handsome showering him with compliments. so whats that about?
he still refuses to meet you eyes, was he afraid to see the look at your face? or hear the words that will come out next? even someone that lacked emotions like nagi could be sorrowful sometimes.
"well, if you asked me." you moved your body closer to him until you felt your shoulder touching his, you cupped his ear and whispered gently. "i think you're the only one ever."
nagi finally turned to lock his eyes with yours, his resting eyes were now slightly wider and his mouth as well, "really?" he blurted when his ears felt heart hot.the sudden change almost made you laugh, he looked so elated like a puppy that just got his treat.
you two were close, almost nose touching each other's. the closeness never bothered you neither will it now, you nodded with smile that made his heart flutter. he felt warm again.
"even if a if i wore that ugly sweater you hate with passion?" he asked playfully.
"I'd still think you're the only guy ever." you admitted.
"even with that hideous cowboy hat?"
"yes sei, even with that hideous cowboy hat."
"wow, you must reallly love me." he said mischievously and you roll your eyes playfully. "shut up, and i also love you for what you have in here." you patted him on his left chest, pointing to his heart.
"....my chest?"
"your heart, dumbass!"
"ooohh." he shook his understandment. you couldn't help but chuckle a bit, seriously how is this guy considered a genius?
your laughter made his black and white world into something colourful, melting his iced heart and colouring his unoccupied soul. he never thought having someone to think of him more than a genius soccer player would make him feel this alive.
damn, he was absolute smitten wasn't he?
"did that satisfy you? can we go back to sleep now?" he turned to you now sluggish figure, barely able to keeo one eye opened.
"i wanna hold you." he said as you turned around giving him you back, he took your silence as an approval to warp his arms around stomach holding you as close as possible, his massive body taking over yours. it didn't hurt to give you a couple of kisses before sleeping, right?
"quite the kisses..i wanna sleep sei." you mumbled while his lips kept smashing against every inch of your face.
"just one more."
he didn't stop at one, or two, or three..
"i only have eyes for you too.." he doubted you heard that.
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love nagi..have a great day everyone └(^o^)┘
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lexisecretaccx · 8 months ago
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A+ Student pt. 1
Other parts on my Masterlist!
(Fem Reader, Both Matt and Chris, they’re both ur teachers, suggestive, set in school, nothing too much yet😉 not proofread so idk if there’s mistakes sorry! everyone is 18+!)
Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..
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I hate this lecture, I sit almost at the front and the boys behind me always laugh at me every time I raise my hand or do anything. There’s only three girls in this whole lecture, including me. They’re all friends with eachother but I have nobody in here who likes me.
The only reason I’m not dropping the course is because my teacher, Professor Sturniolo is drop dead gorgeous. I’m not being dramatic, his bright blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glasses he keeps rested on his nose. His sharp cheekbones, the jawline which is sometimes prickled with stubble. His hair is a dark brown colour, slightly curly sometimes, depends if it’s been raining or not.
He wear either these button up shirts, the first 3 buttons undone and a vest underneath or tight shirts, long sleeved, short sleeved. You name it. He always pairs the outfit with a silver chain dangling from around his neck. To say he is hot is an understatement.
The main reason I like him, (except his perfect features.) is the fact that he listens to what I have to say, I think I’m the only one who takes this course seriously. I understand English is a pretty boring subject to some but I enjoy it.
“She’s not listening to the lecture for once.” I hear one of the boys whisper behind me, I turn slightly and look at them through the corner of my eye. Professor Sturniolo was slightly late today so some other teacher came in to teach while we waited for him, I just can’t focus if he’s not the one teaching me.
All of a sudden the door flies open, “sorry guys I had a flat tire.” He spoke breathlessly as he walked over to the desk, the stand in teacher says his goodbyes and walking out the class. His hair is messy from the wind and it’s slightly wet due to the rain, his button up shirt fully unbuttoned, revealing the white vest underneath, and the chain in the same place as usual.
His sleeves are rolled up slightly revealing the tattoos on his arm. “Where did Professor Michaels get up to in the book?” He asks the class, everyone shrugs and he looks to me, “y/n?” He asks me and I break out of my daydream, “hm?” I say. He chuckles softly, “where did he get to in the book? What page?” He repeats himself.
I wasn’t paying attention to anything he had said, I was too deep in thought. “Oh, I wasn’t paying attention to him sorry.” I awkwardly laugh, luckily he laughed too, “that’s not like you at all,” he smiles, “but thanks for the honesty.” He nods, “you know what, there’s only 20 minutes left so just reread over notes or something. But first did you all do your homework?” Groans and sighs come from the class behind me, signalling that they didn’t.
“Come on guys it’s easy work I’m setting! Ok who has done it?” I raise my hand, his eyes flick to me quickly and I notice the corner of his mouth raise, two other boys raise their hands. He looks at them and his eyebrows raise before he smiles at the boys.
He walks up the lecture room steps slightly and picks up my homework from infront of me, he looks down at me and smiles, he briefly rests his hand on my shoulder slightly. “Good girl.” He whispers before patting my shoulder and walking up to the boys to collect theirs.
Butterfly’s erupt in my stomach from his words, he called me a good girl, that shouldn’t have caused me to subconsciously squeeze my thighs together. I stop myself and swallow harshly to try and brush off my reaction.
He walks back down to his desk and sets the small amount of homework down infront of him to mark. I pull out my notebook to check my notes and I look at him marking the homework, he’s smiling contently and his hand is gripping the pen gently, with the other hand his ring covered fingers flip over the page.
He looks up at me and nods at me before looking back down at the homework. The end of the lecture closes in as we only have 5 minutes left, he walks up to my desk and places my homework down infront of me, 99% is written at the top with a little smiley face next to it, I chuckle softly.
I flip over the page and there’s something written in the corner, speak to me after class, you aren’t in trouble. I look at it with confusion, “what the fuck I got 12%? I actually studied a bit for this stupid homework.” I hear one of the boys yell, “fuck this class man.” He adds. “If I didn’t have something to do after this lecture I’d tell you to stay behind, watch your mouth kid.” Professor Sturniolo spoke through gritted teeth.
What does he have to do? He told me to stay behind after class, but I’m not in trouble so what could it be?
The bell rings and everyone starts packing away and leaving.. except me, I neaten my notes since they’re scattered on the desk infront of me and I stay seated. After everyone left, Professor Sturniolo walked up to my desk and grabbed the chair from the desk infront and sat on it backwards, resting his arms on the bit where you usually lean your back on.
“I know I’m not in trouble but why am I staying behind?” I nervously ask him, fidgeting with my nails. “You’re a great student, probably the best in my class y/n,” he starts to say, smiling softly. “I was wondering if you would help Thomas in some of the lessons. If he doesn’t pass this semester he’ll have to be dropped from the school.”
“Thomas? The quiet kid? I didn’t know he was failing this class.” I reply, “but I’ll help him in the lectures, he can come sit by me.” I smile back at him, “thank you, that’s not the only reason I wanted you to stay behind though.” He smirks slightly.
“Oh? What’s up Profe-” he shushes me, “Call me Matt, Professor Sturniolo is too formal.” He chuckles, I nod before also laughing. “Okay, Matt.. why do you want me to stay here?” I ask, leaning my cheek on my hand.
He swallows nervously and looks at the clock on the wall, “you got flustered.” He spoke. I tilt my head in confusion until I realise what he’s talking about and my cheeks flush red. “Uh..” I stutter. “It’s ok.” He nods at me smirking, I feel his hand on my knee from the other side of the desk. My leg tenses up by the sudden touch.
“I said what I said y/n, you are a good girl. You always listen and answer questions the others fail to answer, and you always pay attention to me.” I feel a shift in the air as a tension builds around us, I nod softly. “Thank you.” I speak, not knowing what to say entirely.
He chuckles, “your overall grade for this semester is gonna be an A.. don’t tell the other students I told you yours yet.. ok?” He leans in and looks into my eyes with a stare I don’t recognise. The sexual tension grows, “why an A? I thought I was A+ grade? I was last semester.” I say confused. “You just haven’t done as well as last semester, you’ve still done so well and I’m proud but you could improve.” He smiles.
“I’m really trying my hardest I don’t think I can improve, what could I do to bump my grade up just slightly, like extra credit?” I ask in a needy tone, I need to get an A+ I promised my mom I’d get all A+ in English since she knows I’m great at it.
“What are you willing to do?” He asks, this time in a lower tone and he leans in slightly. “Anything!” I nod, “I really need an A+ I promised my mom I would.” I lean in and smile innocently. “You’d do anything?” Matts eyes flick to my mouth and back up to my eyes.
The realisation hits me and I lean back quickly, not realising how close we actually got. I look at him with an eyebrow raised slightly, “were you implying that..” I breathe in nervously. “That I..” I stutter. “Hey y/n calm down it’s ok.” He grabs my hand and nods reassuringly. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I thought that it was something you would want.. I know it’s wrong I’m sorry.” He studies my face.
I want to kiss him and touch him in places others haven’t even seen, but it’s wrong. He’s my professor, yes it’s wrong but not illegal. I’m 18. “I do want it.” I whisper, looking down at my lap. He lifts my chin with his finger, “do you?” He smirks, standing up from his seated position.
I nod, “yes.” I smile up at him. “Good girl.” He whispers, walking around to the side of my seat, “the next lecture is starting soon, but take this.” He grabs my pen from the desk and starts to scribble on a spare piece of paper. I look down at it to see he’s writing his number. After he wrote that he added, Text me :)
He pats my shoulder and starts to walk to the front of the class, I pack away my stuff, making sure to keep the little note safe. I can’t believe that something I’d been fantasising about is actually happening? I can’t let anyone know no matter how much I want to.
I walk down to the front of the class, giving a flirty wave to Professor Sturniolo before leaving the classroom. I pull out my phone and add in the number to a contact, “Matt” I named it. My next class is gym class. They always make us do gym with a male teacher, but today we have a new one apparently. “I’m telling you him and Professor Sturniolo are identical!” A boy says to his friend as he walks out of the gym class.
Identical? I remember Matt mentioning to the class that he’s a triplet but I didn’t know one of them was a teacher too. I walk into the locker room and change into my vest and very short booty shorts. It’s the only shorts I like and I haven’t been dresscoded for them, even though my ass is practically on show.
I walk into the gym class and sit down on the bench next to my only real friend, Lizzy. “Hey you okay?” She asks me as I walk over, “yeah why!” I say happily. “You just actually seem happy for once it’s strange but it’s also good!” She smiles at me. “Do you find Professor Sturniolo attractive?” I ask her randomly, I just wanna know if I’m the only one who’s so besotted with him.
“Meh, I don’t have him as a teacher, some girls like him but I don’t, he’s not my type though.” She shrugs, “who is your type?” I ask her, she shrugs again, “I don’t know but I just don’t find him hot.” She swallows harshly. My attention gets taken from her as the new teacher walks in.
He’s identical to Matt, but there’s a difference between them, this guy doesn’t have glasses or stubble. He scans the room, most the girls aren’t in gym class today I don’t know why. “Small class huh?” He chuckles, “it’s usually bigger some people just aren’t present.” I speak up. He instantly turns his head to face me.
We make eye contact, butterflies fill my stomach, he does look like Matt that’s why. “Oh okay thanks.” He smiles at me, “gather around y’all.” He calls to the class and we all oblige. “We’re gonna be doing dodgeball today, something simple.” He nods and again his eyes lock with mine briefly.
He clears his throat before we set up the two zones, it starts, me and Lizzy are on the same side. Mr Sturniolo starts to throw the dodgeballs to us, “what’s the betting she’s gonna be an A+ student in this class aswell.” A girl on my side whispers to her friend, “I think she fucks the teachers to get those grades!” The other one replies, they both laugh but I brush it off. As I’m throwing the dodgeballs at the other team one of the girls snatches the dodgeball out of my hand.
“Fuck off.” I say to her, “so scary..” She laughs back. I pick up a dodgeball and launch it at her, it smacks right into her nose and she falls to the ground. “Oh my god you bitch!” Her friend spoke to me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t expect it to hit her face!” I reply back, “Sir!” Her friend calls over Mr Sturniolo, I step back slightly and bump into someone, he turns me around by my shoulders and looks down at me. I had just walked back into Mr Sturniolo, “sorry.” I whisper, he pats my shoulders and let’s go of them, just how Matt does.
“What’s happened?” He looks down to Rachel lying on the ground holding her nose, “Rachel was be-” I go to speak but am cut off by her friend “y/n launched the dodgeball at Rachel’s face for no reason! She’s not even on the opposing team!” Her friend Jess leans down and helps Rachel up. “Take her to the nurse or something.” He spoke to Jess before shrugging. “I’ll talk with you after class okay?” He nodded to me.
I sigh, “okay.” I continue the game, less enthusiastic this time. The bell rings and we all go into the locker room to change back into our clothes, “I’ll talk to you later yeah?” Lizzy says to me and I nod, grabbing my bag and heading back into the gym class.
He’s sat on the bench on his phone, “hey Mr Sturniolo.” I say, his head flicks up to me and he smiles, putting his phone down next to him. “Call me Chris, please.” He pats the bench next to him for me to sit.
I sit down, “I’m sorry, she was being rude to me and assuming stuff, and I got mad I shouldn’t have done that.” I say sighing. “It’s okay, I heard her. She’s a bit dramatic if you ask me.” He laughs, “she’s taking the drama course I think.” I also laugh.
“I’m glad you actually understand and are apologetic for what you did though..” He smiles at me, I smile back and nod, our attention is drawn to the doors of the gym as they open and Matt walks through them, “Chris, Nick was wondering if you wanted to-” he pauses as he notices me sat there too.
“Hey..” he smiles at me, “hi.” I look at him and back at Chris, taking in their similarities but also their differences.
Chris pats my knee before standing up and walking to Matt, “one sec.” He whispers, smiling down at me. I see them talking but can’t hear. They laugh slightly before I make eye contact with Matt, my stomach filling with butterflies once more. “See you tomorrow or something y/n!” He calls to me and as Chris turns Matt does a slight wink, causing me to squeeze my thighs together lightly before relaxing them.
“Sorry for that interruption..” Chris laughs, “brothers am I right? Unless you don’t have any I’m not sure.” He slows down his sentence, I shrug. “I don’t have brothers, I had a step brother but his mom broke up with my dad, he’s a year younger than me so he really bugged me.” I chuckled lightly. “Matt said you’re a great student.” Chris spoke after a few seconds of silence.
“Yeah I’m pretty good at some subjects, depends on who’s teaching me and if I find the subject interesting.” I smile at him, “well hopefully you get good grades in this class, if not there’s ways you can get higher grades anyway.” He smirks before standing up. “I gotta set up for the next class but feel free to stay if you want, it’s lunch now isn’t it?” He asks me, and I nod “I gotta get going to meet Lizzy but I’ll see you next lesson.” I smile and he nods back.
As I walk out the class I think to myself, what could he have meant by ‘ways for me to get higher grades anyway’? Was he implying a similar thing to what Matt was? I don’t know but I’m intrigued to find out more..
A/n: how is everyone liking the start for this series, I haven’t done a love triangle fic or series before so I hope it’s gonna be good for u!! I am sorry but idk if I’m gonna finish the Mine series rn bc I do wanna focus on this one more but my posting schedule is fucked bc I’m so busy w revision and stuff but I’ll try and post as frequently as I can!!
Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life
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inkdrinkerworld · 2 years ago
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reckless affections
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
wc: 1.4k
cw: typical criminal minds speak, spencer being unable to control his affection, kind of angst ig, reader is reckless and is bait for the unsub, angst to fluff
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You’re nervous as you reach the glass doors; maybe you shouldn’t have accepted the job.
Moving from counter-terrorism to the bau was a hard decision, but you’d been applying for a while and the relief and pride that had filled your chest was immense.
Now, that pride has turned into a bundle of anxious nerves that had your hands shaking as you held your small tote bag of documents and had your heels clicking nervously on the tiled floor.
“Maybe I shouldn’t,” you mumble to yourself, biting your lip and tucking your hair behind your ear. You’re about to turn and walk back to the elevators when hells click behind you and someone pats your shoulder.
“Hi, you must be the new girl!” there’s a girl with blonde hair and a pair of pink glasses with a small gift bag. “I’m Penelope.”
She extends her hand and you take it,, introducing yourself in turn making her smile.
“This is for you, but I don’t think you’ll have time to open it. We have a case.”
She leads you to your desk first, where you set the bag, and then the round table room where the rest of the team are waiting.
“Good morning,” you greet everyone, shaking hands with Emily and David who smile gently at you. Jennifer and Luke smile, Matt nods and Dr. Reid - Spencer- you knew a lot about him, looks at you quizzically before nodding at you.
You get the impression that he’s not all too thrilled about your joining the bau.
The case takes up the majority of your time, so you don’t really spend much time pondering over Spencer’s harsh glances when you add something helpful or boost the profile of the unsub.
You’re all having a small break, coffee and cake to give you some sort of sustenance as you rework the profile just a little.
“Maybe it’s a woman?” you say as you take a sip of your coffee, hissing when it scalds your tongue.
Spencer flashes you a look and then goes back to the profile and nods.
“The specificity of where everything is placed, the colour and even down to the placement of the victims could be the work of a woman.”
Matt calls Garcia after that, giving Penelope all the information she needs to confirm that there is a woman who fits the profile better.
“You shouldn’t doubt yourself,” Luke whispers as you guys get ready to go and you smile a little.
Spencer’s glare catches your attention this time and you lean your body into Luke’s just a little. “Is there something Dr. Reid has against me?”
Luke laughs a little, shakes his head and holsters his gun. “Spencer’s a little rough to change. He’ll soften up after the case wraps.”
Honestly you hope he does.
After that case, when you arrest the woman, and get back to Quantico, all you want to do is get home, but there’s reports to finish. That’s the moment you realise things with you and the Doctor aren’t going to get better- not yet.
You reach for the gift bag Penelope had given you, and when you open it and find a leaf shaped broach you laugh.
“Penelope Garcia, how did you know?” you ask as you catch her coming from her cave.
“I know lots, Tauriel.” she gives a dramatic bow and you laugh even more.
“Is that going to stick?” you ask as Emily and Luke pass,
“A nickname from Garcia?” Luke asks and you nod, “Consider yourself renamed. She still calls me, ‘newbie’.”
Spencer doesn’t stop staring even then, or when you start finishing up your report.
Or even weeks after that.
It’s hard working with someone who keeps glaring or scoffing at you, but you manage.
If the rest of the team notices Spencer’s behaviour they don’t say anything, until you’re going in as bait for the unsub.
“She can’t go in there. She’s untrained for this.”
Emily turns to look away from the board as Spencer speaks to her.
“Reid, she came from counter-terrorism. I think she can handle herself.”
Spencer is adamant though and you catch the tail end of what he’s pleading to Emily as you go to tell her you’re ready;
“She can’t do this. Why is she even the bait? We shouldn’t trust her to do this after a month of being here.”
You clear your throat before Emily could answer, Spencer turning a little red but you keep your attention on Emily.
“I’m ready, JJ and Penelope already put the GPS in my hairpin.”
Emily nods, sighing and laying a hand on Spencer’s shoulder as she walks out behind you.
Your eyes flash hurt as you spare a glance at Spencer but you walk out before he can apologise.
The entire time you’re with the unsub, Spencer is on edge. Luke and Matt can see the worry clear as day as they stake out in the van with him.
“Spence, you good?” Matt asks and Spencer sighs.
He struggles to answer but says, “I made a mistake.”
They wait for more, “I said something I shouldn’t have because I was scared she’d get hurt. Now, now she’s gonna think I hate her.”
Luke suppresses a smile, “And you don’t hate her?”
Matt wants to laugh at the way Spencer looks offended at the question.
“What no! Of course not.”
Luke puts his hands up, “I was just asking Spence, so far I think she’s handling herself well.”
Spencer looks to the camera and finds much of what Luke had said.
They listen to some of what you say to the unsub, and when the man pulls a short dagger-like blade on you, they all empty the van with their guns drawn.
“FBI, drop the weapon!” Matt shouts, the unsub just pulls you to his chest and holds the dagger to your neck.
“There’s no way out of this.” you say to him, turning a little so he can see your face. “Not if you keep the knife to my neck, and you want everyone to know who you are, don’t you?”
Spencer wishes you’d stop talking, because the knife doesn’t shift from your throat.
“Put the knife down and everyone will know your name, they’ll know what you’ve done. You’ll be famous.” Luke says and the unsub wavers, his hand dropping from your neck just enough for you to run over to Matt and Spencer.
Luke moves for him, handcuffing him and reading his rights as you leave the bar.
“You okay?” Spencer asks, and it shocks you slightly.
You look up at him as you pull the pin from your hair and let it fall down.
“Y-yeah, he only had a knife to my neck.” you really aren’t that shook up, “I swear Spencer.”
He doesn’t believe you at all, and so he walks you to the ambulance with his hand hovering over the small of your back.
“You don’t have to,” you say as he leads you to the back of the ambulance, “I know you don’t like me.”
Spencer feels like shit when you say that, a hole in his chest at how easily the words leave you.
“No, that’s not true.” he says, your eyes wide as you look at Spencer expectantly. “I do like you and I’m sorry that I’ve made you think otherwise by what I said before and how I’ve been acting.”
Your jaw unhinges at the words leaving his mouth, “You actually mean that? Luke said it takes a while for you to open up, and I wanted to give you space but you’re always glaring and scowling at me.”
Spencer sits beside you in the back of the ambulance, “Because you always put yourself in the most dangerous positions of all of us.”
It’s your turn to glare at Spencer, “No I don’t.”
He shakes his head, “Last week you ran straight into the house with no back up and got shot at twice before we arrived. The week before that, the unsub’s accomplice had almost incapacitated you.”
You cover his mouth before he could go on.
“Okay, so I’m the littlest, teeniest bit reckless. That doesn’t mean you have to glare.”
Spencer laughs behind your hand and you drop it, “I’ll stop glaring if you stop making the most reckless choices.”
It’s a nice middle ground for the both of you, to build a friendship, to be close like you are with the rest of the team.
“Okay, I’ll stop, but you have to be nice to me.”
Spencer nods, “I’ll be nice, but if you go all reckless again, I’m going back to glares and scowls.”
You nod and Spencer lets you lean your head on his shoulder as the medic finishes their check on you.
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arysbruv · 1 year ago
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Confess N’ Run!
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You were Peter’s best friend, though… you always wished you were more. Yet, he never seemed that interested in you until a certain cold day.
Pairings: peter maximoff x reader
Warnings and whatnots: Friends to lovers. Angst. Fluff.
You walked in the cold winter, blowing into your hands which did basically nothing. The wind blew at you. You huffed, angry that you decided to go out today.
Suddenly, you got a call on your phone. You clicked your tongue, annoyed, as you answer the call.
“Hello? I’m kinda busy right now.” You say as you continue thrudging in the cold winter.
“Wow, I was just going to ask if you wanted company.” A familiar male voice says.
Peter.
You hadn’t even checked who was calling you but of course it was Peter. Your best friend. You’ve been friends since childhood and you absolutely loved the guy… maybe in more ways than he loved you… but it was alright, you were still his friend and he was still yours.
“What- What do you mean?”
Suddenly a colder gust of wind hits your side. You shiver as you look and see a bundled up Peter, standing beside you. He gives you a lopsided smile. You roll your eyes at him, though you were smiling under your scarf.
“Hi Pete. Nice of you to join me.”
He gives you a smile, touching your shoulder which sends a jolt throughout your entire body. You couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from him…
“Mind if I walk you back?” He asks grinning ah you as you start walking. You didn’t even say anything as he quickly follows you. The walk back was quieter than usual. You blamed it on the cold when you knew it was probably because you were too nervous to talk to your long time crush, even if he was your current best friend.
How embarrassing, liking a boy who you see every day but only thinks of you as a friend.
You shiver, not knowing if it was from the cold wind blowing on you or from the sudden company of your crush.
“Are you alright?” Peter asks, breaking the silence. You look up from the ground which you have been staring at to avoid the cold wind. You give him a perplexed look.
“Cold.” you say as an explanation.
“Cold? It’s not even that cold!” Peter says, walking a circle around you full of energy. You roll your eyes at him. Ignoring him as you try to move away. The cold was getting to you, you clasps your hands together, rubbing them together and blowing on them. A futile attempt to maintain heat.
Suddenly, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulders. You straighten up and notice a new jacket has appeared on your shoulders. It was big and silver in colour, a plethora of patches decorating its sleeve. You look from the jacket to the now jacket-less Peter.
“Pete…” You start before he shuts you up by punching your shoulder.
“ ‘s alright, I can’t let my girl get cold now, can I?” He says, giving you a large grin and laughing to himself.
My girl.
My.
His
Could he? No… You ignore it, maybe he just meant my girl best friend or something… You weren’t his type…
Before you could do anything, he puts his baby blue beanie on your head. He gives you a giant smile as he did it. The smile. That smile that made you fold every time you saw it. Oh how beautiful was he!
You admired him as he came closer to fix up the beanie on your head. Your eyes fixed on him as he fits the beanie on your head. His hair was mess-ied with cowlicks here and there, yet, it added to his charm. Your face turns red as you notice how close you were to each other.
His eyes wander down to you. His eyes that carried so much joy and emotion. They were calm at that second, no hint of hidden energy. He stops adjusting the beanie, looking at you. He gives you a small smile before going back to pushing your hair into the beanie. You blush, and you swore you saw a small hint of blush taint his cute face.
There’s no possible way…
You quickly avert your eyes. Deep in thought of the sudden hope he just gave you. Was he playing with your feelings? You were pulled back to the reality to the sound of your name being called. You look up at him, humming in response. He gives you a small smile.
“I love you.”
He brings your forehead to his lips and gives a quick peck, before you could do anything he had run off to God knows where.
You were left standing in the cold snow, on your house’s street. Confused and bewildered on the scene that had unfolded in front of you. You stand, frozen in shock.
He kissed you.
HE kissed YOU.
You pull his jacket closer as you continue walking, grumbling that you’ll have to go out soon again to find the man who had just confessed and run.
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blueblurchronicles · 1 month ago
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A full moon rising
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After much delay, I proudly present the first story, I hope you enjoy and a reminder that requests are open *please read rules pinned* anyway enjoy !! :D Word count:1K
You were on vacation in sunny apotos trying to soak in the feeling of the sand in your hands and eat the many delicious foods on offer, but you couldn't really relax, you were worried about sonic...
He left not long ago to stop Eggman on his latest attempt to stop him and conquer the world, and this time it seemed that he had to travel much further up into space.
"Sonic, come on let me help you" You pleaded to him, normally you did help him out with Eggman's shenanigans but this time Sonic wasn't budging.
"Y/n, I understand but Eggman is unpredictable... Well as unpredictable as he can be" He chuckled softly.
He knew you were worried for him, but he walked up and held out a fist for a fist bump. "Come on, don't leave me hanging" He flashed the familiar smirk, making you smile and gave him his fist bump.
But that was almost 4 days ago, and during the second day of your vacation, that was when things got weird. You have been hearing reports of the planet broken up into 6 pieces and some form of creatures roaming around at night. That made you very scared, and without sonic here to help you... you were on your own.
So the next 2 days you tried to enjoy the vacation as much as you could and when you saw a glimpse of the sun setting you rushed quickly back to your hotel room and stayed put for the night as if the creatures were anything but true. But one night you stayed out for too long and didn't even notice when you got outside and it was dark.
"Oh no..." You quickly rushed back to your room, but a growl made you freeze, you looked around frantically to find the source of the growl. Your eyes widened in horror as you came across a giant creature. You screamed as you began to run, more creatures on your tail as you tried to cut them off and hide.
It worked for a little while and made your way back to your hotel, only to just barely make it into the courtyard when you were cornered by all the creatures, big and small.
"Help me !!!" You cowered in fear. Just when things became grim for you, you heard a loud howl echoing in the streets of the city.
A dark shape leapt from the rooftops, you couldn't see it as it was right under the full moon. landing heavily between you and the creatures. The figure was familiar... yet different. It had broad, muscular arms. claws that gleamed in the moonlight and fur bristling in untamed turfs.
"Hang tight, I'll handle these guys" It spoke in a deep gruff voice.
You quickly ran for cover as it began to fight, lunging its claws at the nearest creature. "That's one down"
You could hear everything going on in the background as items were tossed and broken, the creature's growls of defeat and the thuds of the figure that saved you. After the fight, the creatures then dissipated into the misty shadow, now no more.
"Hey !! You can come on out now, It's safe. They're all gone" The figure called out to you if you were still here.
Your legs were like jelly as you began to slowly shuffle out from the corner. "Th... Thank you..." You then perked up when you saw the familiar figure. "SONIC !!" You smiled and rushed to him, but the smile slowly disappeared when you saw a completely new look. "Ummm... New colour ??"
"Yeah.... Long story..." He sighed, looking down at his hands and flexing his fingers. "You know me, never a dull moment" He quickly turned his attention to you. "You okay ?? They didn't hurt you did they ??" He looked all over.
"No... they just spooked me... I'm more worried about you, what happened ??"
"It's... kinda complicated, some crazy stuff went down with me and Eggman and now from what I can tell when the sun goes down I turn into... this..." He sighed softly and sort of sadly. But he looked up at you and flashed the familiar grin.
"But I'm still me though" He raised his fist for a fist bump, making you smile and gave him his fist bump, yeah he was still sonic.
"Come on, My hotel room is nearby. We can stay there for the rest of the night" You offered.
The two then entered the hotel room, flicking the lights on and relaxing now that the chaos was over. You lay down on the bed as Sonic then sat on a nearby chair. "This... thing... It's got its perks but it's been rough" He looked out at the window and then at you, smiling softly to see that his best friend was ok. "Guess I owe you one huh ??"
You turned your head to him and sat up. "Hey, don't mention it, at best I owe you one. I hear Apotos has some very interesting chilli dogs"
Sonic's eyes lit up, the usual spark shining through the exterior. "Oh now you're talking my language" He rubbed his hands together, he could picture it already, as soon as the sun rose, fresh local chilli dogs in a place as scenic as apotos, making you chuckle when you saw his expression. "We should get some shut eye, goodnight sonic"
"Night y/n"
Soon the sun began to rise, and you fell asleep for the time being as did Sonic. He felt the sharp twinge before being covered in purple smoke he then reverted back to normal. You yawned and woke up and saw him sleeping still. You smiled and woke him up with a good squeeze of a hug.
"What the... woah hey easy there" He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "See ?? Nothing to worry about" He paused, glancing out the window at the colourful sunrise over apotos. Only one thing now on his mind.
"Now, how about those chilli dogs you mentioned"
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violetarks · 1 year ago
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'cause i got my love to keep me warm!
anime: attack on titan
characters: eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, porco galliard
summary: christmas isn't christmas without a kiss under the mistletoe!
warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, second person pov, i am writing this in november guys, modern! au
↣ eren jeager:
you watched as jean hung up that plant above the entrance to the kitchen from the living room, an open doorway that definitely fit two people comfortably.
"jean... do i even wanna ask?" you huff out, sipping from your glass the sweet alcohol connie had handed to you.
"if you must know, mikasa is arriving soon and she brought desserts so she'll put 'em in the fridge, right?" he steps off the foot stool, putting it to the side. he stands with his hands on his hips, so proud of himself. "so i'll swoop in and help her carry her things and we'll kiss under the mistletoe and she'll fall in love with me."
you chuckle at his scheming, leaning against the wall beside the entrance, jean making sure to step a few feet away to not get caught with you. no offence. "i would be so flattered if someone did this for me."
"first find someone who will tolerate you that isn't sasha or connie." he retorts, stopping himself and look you square in the eyes, "or me. don't look for me. ever."
"oh i would rather gouge my eyes out." you huff, finishing your drink. the empty glass makes you frown. niccolo made such good alcoholic punch, you were downing so much of it. "hey, ymir! where's the rest of the drinks?"
"in the kitchen—ay, don't drink 'em all! not everyone has arrived yet!" she shouts, looking at you with your empty glass. she points a finger at you, as if to threaten, but you roll your eyes and waving your hand at her, leaving jean to his antics he was so proud of.
as you fill up your glass, you hear the last of your friends arrive. mikasa, armin and eren walk in, making everyone cheer and gather arround you. you were imagining jean's excitement as he saw his crush of a couple years. you sat in the kitchen and listened, preparing yourself to go out and talk to your own crush of a couple years. you were hoping that this time, eren and you could have a conversation throughout the night without him running to the bathroom or escaping to hang out with armin.
"y/n, get in here!" reiner calls from the living room, where everyone else was.
you huff back, pushing off the bench, "okay!" walking towards the exit of the kitchen, you fix your shirt and put on a smile. "it's so great to see you guys! it's been forever." you say, seeing eren walking towards you with a box of cupcakes. armin and mikasa say the same thing to you as a greeting. but you blink, seeing jean distraught as mikasa strikes up a conversation with historia and ymir, empty-handed.
"y/n. hey." eren says, giving you a soft smile.
"hi." you respond, looking down at the seal on the top of the box, "mikasa's cupcakes?"
he stops beside you, shrugging his shoulders. "yeah. can you tell which ones i decorated?" he chuckles nervously, watching you scan each dessert.
"ah... well..." you stammer, seeing the weirdly placed icing on a handful of the cupcakes, as well as the messy sprinkles. some of them were only on half of the cupcake. you give eren your best smile. "i would still choose yours over the others."
"thanks." he says back, rubbing the back of his neck. he then notices the glass in your hand. "how do the drinks taste?"
"oh, amazing. they taste so good." you admit, holding up your drink, "it's such a nice colour too. niccolo did very well—..." you held up your glass to the light to inspect the colour, but your eyes fall on something above you instead.
"y/n? what's... wrong?" he asks, looking up where you were. his ears begin to tint pink, face burning. "oh... who—who put that there?"
"jean did, to kiss mikasa." you admit, putting your glass down on the table beside you, taking the box from eren and doing the same thing. you began to feel your face heating up at well, a bit embarrassed. "it doesn't matter, just forget about it. i'll get you a drink."
but as you turn to the kitchen again, eren moves forward, trapping you against the wall of the room. you were out of sight from the rest of the party, eyes wide and staring at the man in front of you. he looked determined, eyes scanning yours.
"eren, what're you doing?" you say, keeping your hands against the wall. his were near your waist, his wrists bumping against you.
"can i?" he asks, gulping. his hair falls a little against his forehead, you watch the strands carefully. you could feel the heat radiating off his body, and see the mad blush over his cheeks. "can i kiss you? please?"
"yes." you say before you can think.
he dives forward, hand resting on your cheek to pull you closer. your hands leave the wall and you don't know where to put them. with gentle hands, you grasp the bottom of his hoodie and kiss back. eren kisses you just as softly, as if to not scare you. he was a little rough on the outside, so his delicate touches and kisses surprise you.
there was a sense of desperation that you could feel, as if he was waiting for this as long as you had. his other hand pulled you against him by your back, kissing you deeper. you let out a quick exhale, only to be pulled back into another kiss. and another. you almost couldn't breathe by how quickly he was kissing you.
"hey, you wanna' bring—WOAH WOAH WOAH!" sasha begins to yell, completely forgetting what she came in to ask you and now waving her hands around to cover her face. a few others run into the room to investigate as you and eren pull away, hands still on each other and staring back at sasha.
"what's wro—..." jean begins, stopping when he notices your position. it's quiet as armin, annie and reiner stare at you as well. you stay in your spot, still tugging on eren's shirt and torso, and eren's arms wrapped around you. jean is quiet before he begins shouting, nearly louder than the music. "WHAT? HOW—WHY ARE YOU KISSING HIM?"
"your stupid mistletoe!" you call back, taking your hands away from eren and pointing to the plant.
"oh so you stand under a mistletoe and you get to make out with someone in the kitchen," jean begins to complain as armin takes the others out of the room for privacy, "but when i do it, i get forced to kiss bertholdt?"
"that was like one time." eren sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets, brushing his face as if to wipe away his pink cheeks.
"whatever, asswipe." jean scowls, flipping the both of you off as he elaves, "enjoy your christmas, traitors."
as you are left alone, quietness consumes you. eren isn't able to meet your eye, much like you struggle to do as well.
but you clear your throat, "uh, yeah, so... thank you?"
"for kissing you?" eren hums, a bit of a smile on his lips.
"yeah? nevermind." you say, even more embarrassed. eren laughs a little, taking a step towards you again. you brace yourself before he places a gentle kiss to your cheek.
"you're welcome. i hope i can kiss you again." eren says, sending you a grin before he takes your hand, "you said these drinks were good, right? i'll try some."
he doesn't let go of your hand as he pours himself a glass. it seems like he has no intention of letting it go either.
↣ mikasa ackerman:
she watches you from the other side of the room, seeing how you laugh at something that sasha said. she grips her glass a little tighter, armin grabbing it from her in fear of it breaking.
"gosh, mikasa..." he huffs, setting it on the table and following her line of sight, "why don't you go up and talk to them?"
"armin..." she mutters out, looking at her friend briefly before he rolls his eyes and listens in to eren and jean's conversation about a recent sports game.
he couldn't be less interested, but it was better than dealing with mikasa's unwavering potectiveness.
"call y/n over here." she says.
"what?" armin says, raising a brow, "why?"
"just do it." mikasa tells him, elbowing his side.
armin winces, rubbing his ribs and waving his hand out at you. "hey, y/n!" he calls, watching you and sasha look his way, "c'mere for a sec!"
you excuse yourself, pattinf sasha's shoulder. she makes a beeline for the food table, where connie and reiner were at the moment. meanwhile, you walked over to armin and mikasa's spot on the couch, where the girl sat straighter and fixed her hair.
"hey, armin. it's good to see you, mikasa." you say, nodding at her and looking back at rhe blonde. mikasa relished in those few seconds, feeling her cheeks burn under your gaze and kind smile. "what's up?"
armin truthfully didn't know what to say. he made it sound like he needed you for something, but he was blank. "i, uh... i'm..." he frantically looked around, briefly at mikasa. she only widened her eyes a little and gave a look that said 'think of something'. he wanted to scold her. but his eyes lay on the drink he had taken from his friend. he perks up. "can you grab something for me?"
you raise your brows, hand out of your pocket and on your hip now. "uh, sure thing. what d'ya need?"
mikasa clenched her hands on her lap, silently cussing out armin. she asked him to bring you here so you could talk to her and be around her. why was he sending you on an errand run now?
"upstairs, i left some alcohol in the study that i forgot to bring down. could you just grab it for me?" he asks, actually remember that he legitamately forgot to get them, "i have to quickly check on the desserts."
"oh yeah, i can do that." you say, giving a thumbs up.
"thanks." he retorts, standing up, "mikasa, can you help her? it's a few bottles."
she blinks and stands up as well. "yeah, i—i can help." she mumbles, staring at you.
"great. just bring them to the kitchen when you're done." armin nods his head and then walks off, leaving you two alone.
you point to the stairs. "should we get going?"
"right." mikasa smiles, following after you.
the both of you leave the party in the living room, going towards the house entrance to go upstairs. it grew quieter, until all you heard was the two pairs of footsteps.
she walks up the stairs behind you, never taking her eyes off the back of your head. your hair looked so nice today, and your shirt hugged your figure so nicely. not to mention, your choice of fragrance today was enchanting. you smelt so nice...
"so, um... i heard you and that student from economics went out together..." mikasa says, trying to hide her deep rooted anger.
she had heard from eren who was told by jean, who was shown by reiner, who got sent a photo from annie, that you were seen on a date at a cafe near the university you all went to, with some random personfrom another course. by the end of the day, she had learnt who it was, what they did, what you two ordered, and that the person had only one girlfriend from early primary school.
you glance over your shoulder at her. "oh... right. well, we're just friends." you explain, shurgging your shoulders, "didn't really work out, it was only one date anyway. we're not interested in each other."
"oh, that's... that's good." mikasa chimes in, a small smile on her face. she couldn't contain her excitement. maybe you were interested in her instead.
"just these ones here, right?" you ask, holding up a few bottles in your hand as you kneeled in the study. mikasa snaps back into reality, nodding her head. "sweet. let's get 'em all."
mikasa begins to collect the alcohol as you do, being careful not to drop any. once they were all acquired, you begin on your way downstairs, making smalltalk with mikasa. about how her holidays are so far, her studies and all. you even ask about eren and armin. you were so considerate too, the way you made sure to carry more than her because you had seen her drink a few glasses before this, while you hadn't.
"you okay, mikasa?" you say from behind her. she nods her head, pleased by your concern. "good, good. i can't wait to try—fuck!"
she turns around just in time to catch a loose bottle once she's on the bottom of the stairs. the bottle doesn't go far, now laying in mikasa's arms. you steady yourself on the second last steps, clutching the alcohol to your chest. you were wide-eyed, staring at her.
"oh my god, i'm so sorry. thank you, mikasa." you say, breathless. she nods her head once and looks up to you on your elevated step, heaving the bottles safely in her hands. her eyes land on something passed you. "is something wrong?"
you follownyour gaze to see the a mistletoe hanging above you. "oh man, who put that there?" you ask, stepping down another step. you look to mikasa, who is staring bsck at you. if you knew anything, you knew the look on her face. a grin lays on your face and you sigh, "you poor thing."
"huh?" mikasa mutters, watching as you lean forward and press your lips against hers. a small squeak leaves her and she thinks she's about to drop the alcohol on the floor.
she tastes a little bitter due to the drinks she's been having, but you've been eating christmas sweets all night. the blend of the two flavours is nice. mikasa squeezes her eyes shut, and she can feel her cheeks burning as her heart beats faster.
you were cool and collected, gently moving your lips against hers and guiding the both of you. mikasa was too cute, asking you all these questions throughout the time you've known her, always finding a way to be alone with you. you ever really thought much of it, but that look in her eyes just then told you all you need to know.
when you pull away, mikasa's eyes slowly open, her lipstick now smudged and on you. you memorised her face, how her blush spread across her cheeks and her ears. meanwhile, mikasa tried to calm herself, shifting on her feet.
"you... didn't have to, y/n." she says, standing up straight.
but you walk down the rest of the stairs, pressing another kiss to her cheek as you pass her. "don't worry yourself. let's give these to armin, and then get a drink." you say, leading her to the kitchen.
she lets out a small breath, collecting herself and then following after you.
↣ porco galliard:
thank god armin was smart.
"pock! y/n is here now!" pieck announces from the dinner table. the restaurant was fully booked out and lively, piano played familiar christmas themes and the formal attire made it look as expensive as it really was. the food smelt amazing, which is why colt wanted to buy almost everything on the menu, to which reiner dismissed but truly wanted as well.
"yeah? why are you only tellin' me?" porco responds, not bothering to stand from his seat. but he searches the large crowd for your walking figure. pieck smiles, knowing of his not so secret feelings for you. when you finally make it to the table, porco sneaks glances.
"hey, i'm sorry i'm late. i couldn't find my shoes." you say, waving at everyone as they greet you too. you scan the table for a spare spot, only seeing one in between reiner and porco. your eyes lock with his, and he hastily looks away. as everyone falls into their own conversations, you stand near porco. "can i sit here?"
"see anywhere else you can sit?" he huffs back at you. you snicker, sitting down beside him and setting your jacket on the chair. everyone fell into conversation around you whilst you sat there quietly, playing with the napkin on your lap. porco stares at you for a moment before clearing his throat. "you look good. you... look nice."
your head turns to him, and a smile dawns on your face. "oh? thank you, porco. you look handsome tonight."
"thanks." he huffs, looking away. the food was coming now and he didn't want to look at your face as you stared at him. why were you so positive and sweet?
the dinner continues with small talk between the both of you and the rest of the table. zeke did his share of pushing porco and reiner's buttons, and you, bertholdt and pieck worked to mend their arguments.
as the food came and went, and drinks were topped off endlessly. colt was currently telling his own story about something funny that happened to him last week. he mentioned falco and gabi, and by the end of five minutes, porco was zoned out, drinking from his glass.
he was bored. as much as he enjoyed free food, he was so bored.
"i'm just gonna go to the bathroom." porco clears his throat, excusing himself.
he stands up, nudging against you genty by accident. but he finds himself brushing his hand against you and holding the back of your chair to stand up. you offered him a gentle smile, to which he nodded at and walked away.
"don't be too long, galliard." zeke chimes in, ellicting an eye roll from the said man, "we might miss you too much."
"suck it, jaeger." porco scoffs, fixing his collar as he leaves the table.
you watch him leave as everyone else falls into conversation. porco has always been different from everyone else, you realised. he was realistic, somewhat pessimistic, but always trying his best. you found yourself a little excited to be alone with him, but that was rare. there was never a good reason to be alone with him, and it was embarrassing to just say you wanted him to yourself.
so when you saw him pass the bathrooms and go straight to the empty balcony, you took your chance.
"i'll be back, gonna' go get a drink from the bar." you say, seeing the bar in the same direction as porco.
"damn, can't get enough, can you?" colt jokes, nodding to your empty glass.
"not all of us can be a lightweight like you." you chuckle, making your way over. it doesn't take you long til you open the door of the balcony and close it behind you. porco is leaning against the balcony railing, not hearing you until you clear your throat. "hey."
"oh, hey." he says, seeing you walk towards him.
"what are you doing out here?" you ask, standing beside him.
"gettin' some air. you?"
"followed you." porco raises a brow at you. "what? you looked lonely."
"shut up." he rolls his eyes, and runs his fingers through his hair. you catch yourself staring, then looking out to the city lights. "what're your plans for christmas?"
you lean against the railing, the night wind blowing towards you. "well, i'll go to my family's town for a few days, then come back here and celebrate myself." you explain, tilting your head, "yourself?"
"the same." he huffs, resting his hand on his neck, "marcel is expecting some souveniers."
"ha, right, right." you say, playing with your fingers. you secretly wished you could think of a more personal present for porco, you opted for a nice silver ring. you just needed a good time to give it to him before you both left. "hey, so—"
"i got you something." porco says, standing up straight. you stare at him, suddenly aware of how he looked in the moonlight and the soft yellows of the lights around you. he holds out a small box from his pocket. "merry christmas, y/n."
"porco, you didn't have to." you chuckle, taking the box from his hand.
"yeah i know. but you mentioned you lost yours. and i just so happened to be out and saw it." he claims as you pull out a bracelet that was so similar to yours that you lost. you were at a loss for words, only staring down at the gift. porco self-conciously shifted from foot to foot. "it's—it's not the exact one, but y'know."
"no, porco. i love it." you say, putting it on immediately. porco blinks and lets out a sigh of relief. "thank you so much. i... the gift i got you is actually in my jacket pocket. i'll give it to you later."
"oh, i didn't know." porco says, hands bracing the metal in front of you.
you've never had solid proof that porco liked you more than a friend, but this had to be it, right? you scan his face to see him smiling a little, before you look up and see the plant hanging above your heads. he doesn't see the red berries and green leaves, but you don't say a word.
"hey, porco?" you call.
"mhm?" he replies.
"let me kiss you?" you ask, leaning against his shoulder. porco's eyes stay on you, blank-faced. he doesn't know how to say 'yes'.
"what? you wanna' kiss me?" he reiterates.
you respond, tilting your head at him, "i've always wanted to kiss you." you say, "so can i?"
porco takes a deep breath in, looking down at your lips for a few seconds. and he nods nods head. you lean forward first, making the move to kiss porco and rest a hand against his shoulder. porco's hand is on your cheek, keeping you connected.
your fingers are hot against his arm, even through the shirt he wore. his cologne filled the air, and it was just as intoxicating as any other alcohol. as handsome as he was, the way porco took care of you was even more attractive.
he kissed you softly, making sure not to overstep and to gently brush his thumb against your cheekbone. you were warm compared to the cold air. the kiss lasted shorter than any of you would've wanted, but the look on each others' face was worth it.
"i've never actually kissed anyone under a mistletoe before." you admit, patting his shoulder.
he furrows his brows before looking up, seeing the mentioned item above you two. be then chuckles, "sneaky."
"you wanna' come to mine for christmas?" you ask, caressing his arm. porco grins a little, hair falling out of place. as he pushes it back, you hold the box in your other hand. "we can cook and watch movies. after we come back from our family's, of course."
"sounds good to me." porco says, pulling you closer. you chuckle, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. he leans closer to you, earning another smile. "another one?"
who were you to reject him?
384 notes · View notes
dancinglikebutterflywings · 3 months ago
Text
Not Dead Yet | Part 02
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-> Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Medium-Fem!Reader
-> Synopsis: After trying to avoid Jeonghan (and the other ghosts) Y/N encounters him on the stairwell and is unable to ignore him anymore.
-> Warnings: Paranormal au. Hints at a possible evil spirit lurking about. Sick child in hospital but doesn't mention the illness, hints at her having been in hospital for a while. Y/N almost cusses a couple times. Hints at Y/N and Jihoon fake dating. This is a work of fiction. In no way does it reflect the guys.
-> Word Count: 2,616
-> Taglist: open. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.
Not Dead Yet Masterlist | SEVENTEEN M.List
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As Y/N walks along the footpath leading to the hospital, she digs through her bag, looking for something she promised one of the kids she visits. When she can't find it, she starts to cuss but stops herself when an elderly lady glares at her as she passes by. She bows in apology before continuing her search. 
Just a moment later, Y/N feels a sudden chill run down her spine and turns back to see the woman has completely vanished and is nowhere to be found. 
Frustrated, she scans the area, mentally scolding herself for revealing her ability to see ghosts to the old woman. “You would think I would know the difference between the living and dead by now,” she mutters under her breath, ensuring that only her brother on the other end of the call can hear her. 
“You chose to volunteer at the hospital,” Seungcheol, chimes in. “You’re surrounded by both the living and the dead there.” 
“I’m surrounded by the living and the dead everywhere I go,” she replies, rolling her eyes at his comment. But then, she suddenly exclaims, “Aha!” as she finally finds what she was looking for. It’s a small ballerina doll that used to be hers. She believes it deserves a new home with the little girl she’s befriended through her volunteer work. The little girl loves ballet more than she ever did. “I need to go. Tell Eomma I’ll be there tonight, but if she tries to set me up with one of her friend’s sons again, I’m going to leave and-,” she pauses, an idea coming to her. “Actually, I should bring Jihoon. That might keep her off my back for a while.”  
“You brought Jihoon a few months ago,” he reminds her. “Are you going to tell eomma that you’re fake back together?”  
“Shi-Yah!” she exclaims, stopping herself from cussing again as the elderly woman from a minute ago suddenly reappears in front of her. “I’ll find someone else to bring,” she quickly says, ending the call before he can respond. She frowns at the lady, taking out her earbuds and placing them back in her bag. The elderly woman says nothing as Y/N moves past her to go inside the hospital. Making her way up to the children’s ward, she keeps her head bowed so she doesn’t make eye contact with any more spirits. 
“Jeon Nari, I have a surprise for you,” Y/N calls out as she enters the room where the six-year-old girl is sitting on the hospital bed, colouring in her princess colouring book. She notices that the young girl’s father is with her and greets him politely with a slight bow of her head.  
Jeon Wonwoo, Nari's father, looks up from his phone and stands to return her greeting. “It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he says, his voice reflecting the worry and exhaustion of a parent who has spent long hours in the hospital with his sick child. “Nari’s been talking about you non-stop since your last visit,” he adds. “She was so excited to learn that you used to do ballet.”  
Y/N smiles, her heart warming at the thought of Nari's excitement. It confirmed that she’s making the right choice in passing her once beloved doll down to the sweet little girl. “Well, speaking of ballet,” she says, pulling the ballerina doll with a pink tutu from behind her back and holding it out towards her. “I thought you might like this.” 
Nari’s eyes widen in excitement, her colouring book momentarily forgotten as Y/N passes the doll to her. “Wow! She’s so pretty!” Nari exclaims as a large smile makes its way onto her face. 
“Will you promise to take good care of her for me?” Y/N asks, her smile mirroring Nari's as she sits down across from her, her heart swelling with affection for the little girl. However, her smile dims as an unsettling chill fills the room. She senses a presence lingering in the doorway, and for a brief moment, it feels as if time has frozen. 
The atmosphere shifts, the warmth of the moment dissipating as Y/N's gaze drifts toward the entrance. A figure stands there, half-hidden in the shadow. The air grows thick with an unspoken tension, and Y/N's heart races as she tries to decipher the emotions swirling around her. 
“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s voice cuts through the silence, bringing her back to reality. He gazes at her with worry. “Are you okay?”  
She manages a smile, though it doesn’t fully reach her eyes, and nods. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay for long today,” she says, causing Nari to pout. Unbeknownst to Y/N, her visits have become one of Nari’s favourite parts about being in the hospital. “Since it's my day off from work tomorrow, I’ll be here much earlier than usual. You’ll be the first person I’ll come and see.”  
"You promise?" Nari asks, her expression a mix of hope and excitement as she holds up her tiny pinkie finger. 
"I promise," Y/N replies with a smile, linking her pinkie with Nari's and pressing their thumbs together, sealing their promise. The gesture brings a comforting warmth back into the room, yet an unsettling feeling still lingers in the air. Looking towards the doorway, she sees that the figure is no longer there. Trying to shake off the feeling, she turns her attention back on Nari. “I should get going, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?” 
After saying her goodbyes, she exits the room, the unsettling feeling following her as she walks down the corridor and exits the children's ward. The air around her starts to feel almost suffocating so she chooses to take the stairs instead of the confined unescapable space of the elevator. As she descends the stairwell, the unease turns into feeling of being followed, the presence heavy, dark and ominous. Half expecting to find the figure from the doorway, she looks behind her only to find no one there, living or dead. With her heart pounding against her chest and her footsteps echoing in her ears, she quickens her pace and reaches the next landing. There she stops for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself, her eyes never leave the stairs she just descended, wary of any spirit that might choose to show itself. 
After a brief moment, she braves herself and turns to continue her walk down the stairs, but just as she does, a sudden fright nearly sends her tumbling backward. A scream escapes her lips as another presence makes itself known, breaking the suffocating ominous feeling in an instant.  
"I knew you could see me!" he exclaims, his voice echoing off the walls. His eyes gleam with a wild intensity, a mixture of mischief and something deeper. "You can't pretend anymore." 
“What is with you ghosts sneaking up on me today,” she groans with a frown on her face.  
“I’m not a ghost,” the man insists. 
“I hate to break it to you, but you are a ghost,” she informs him, her voice tinged with exasperation. “That is why I can see you while no one else can.”  
“But I’m not dead,” he counters, frustration clear in his voice. 
“Yes, you are,” she replies, her gaze flicking nervously to the door off to the side, hoping no one decides to walk into the stairwell at that moment. 
“I’m not!” he argues, reaching for her wrist, only for his hand to pass right through her. He tries again, with the same result.  
Each time he does it, it sends a chill through Y/N’s body. “Would you stop?” she scolds him moving her wrist away. 
“I’m trying to show you that I’m not dead,” he growls as the fluorescent lights above them begin to flicker, his frustration and anger boiling over. He’d spent the week trying to get her attention, unable to communicate with anyone else. “Just... come with me.” His voice softens, a hint of vulnerability breaking through as he almost sounds like he’s pleading. “You have to believe me.” 
With that he turns on his heal, walking through the door. Y/N hesitates for a moment but there is something within that compels her to follow him. Her curiosity piqued; she walks closer to the door. Pushing the door open, she steps into a brightly lit corridor with an intensive care unit sign hanging from the ceiling. 
Y/N's heart races once again as she takes in the scene, her breath hitching in her throat. The ghosts are everywhere, some with solid forms, others with translucent forms flickering in and out of focus, some hover near the doors of the patients rooms, their expressions a haunting blend of hope and despair and others drift aimlessly, looking at nothing in particular.  
The distant beeping of machines and the soft murmur of voices fills her ears as she searches for the man that led her this way. She finally spots him standing before the automatic glass doors of the unit. 
Reaching into her bag, she pulls out her earbuds, sticking them into her ears and keeps her head down, avoiding eye contact with the other ghosts as she makes her way over to him. "I can't go inside," she tells him. 
"I'm right there," he says pointing to one of the cubicles at the back of the room. She can just make out the end of the bed, but she can't confirm if it’s really him. 
“If you’re not dead, how can I see you?” she asks, more to herself than him.  
"How should I know?" he replies anyway. "You see the others, right?"  
"But they’re already dead," she answers.  
"How can you be so certain?" he asks out of curiosity.  
"You think there’s someone in there in a coma from the Joseon Dynasty era?" she says, motioning towards the woman at the end of the hall, her face etched with worry. "I bet she’s here because she’s watching over someone in there. You’d be surprised how many ancestors show up to welcome their family member into the afterlife. It makes it less scary to cross over into that dimension." She pauses, her gaze drifting back to the woman, who stands with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "It’s like a welcoming committee," she continues. "They reassure them that they’re not alone and guide them over. It’s a beautiful thing, really.” 
His gaze turns to the woman, "So, you think that’s what’s happening here? That she’s just waiting for someone to join her so she can welcome them home?"
"It’s that, or she just doesn’t want her ancestor to be alone," she replies, her heart racing with the thrill of her own conviction. "It’s not just about the end of life. She could just be here watching over her entire bloodline, making sure they’re safe and healthy. It’s probably why she looks so worried.” 
“I guess you’ve been doing this a long time,” he says, turning his gaze towards her. 
“A very long time,” she sighs looking back inside the intensive care unit. “But this has never happened before. I’ve never seen or communicated with someone who’s in limbo.” 
Just as he opens his mouth to speak, someone calls out Y/N’s name. Her eyes widen as she turns, pulling her earbuds out. A blush creeps onto her cheeks as she greets the handsome man in a white coat. “Dr. Hong,” she says, bowing her head. 
“I wasn’t expecting to see you today” he smiles, causing Y/N’s heart to flutter and for a moment the situation she’s found herself in is a distant memory.  
“I—uh, I just dropped something off to Nari,” she stammers, feeling a little bashful. Joshua Hong, a doctor who transferred from America, seems to have that effect on anyone he comes across. There’s reason his nickname is the gentleman. He’s kind, polite and respectful to everyone, he doesn’t anger easily even in intense situations, and speaks with a soft, calming voice. He’s also incredibly handsome.  
She quickly snaps out of her little trance that she found herself in when the man who isn’t quite a ghost, loudly clears his throat from besides the doctor. Glancing at him, he doesn’t look impressed by the sudden interruption. Quickly looking back at Joshua, she continues “I-I also thought it would be a good time to stop by and see how my friend,” she looks out the corner of her eye at the man before focusing on the doctor again, “is doing.” 
“Who’s your friend?” Joshua asks, glancing down at the folders in his hands.  
“Uh-” she pauses, her eyes flickering between the doctor and the man she now realises she never got the name of. 
“Yoon Jeonghan,” he tells her. 
“Yoon Jeonghan,” she repeats and Jeonghan nods with a small triumphant smile. This is his chance to get some more answers. 
“I was handed his case this morning,” Joshua informs her. “I can’t really tell you anything but it’s a strange one. Just know that were doing everything we can to figure out what happened and why he won’t wake up.” 
“So, you don’t have anything?” she hears Jeonghan ask even though Joshua can’t hear him, the frustration from earlier resurfacing. “This is great,” he scoffs but his voice quickly turns to one of panic. “What if I’m like this forever? I can’t be like this forever.”  
“Oh,” she says, her look turning to one of sympathy when she hears the tone in Jeonghan’s voice. “Thank you for doing everything you can do,” she thanks Joshua. “Hopefully he wakes up soon.” 
“I hope so, too,” Joshua says reflecting her sympathy. “Well, I should get in there and start my rounds. It was good seeing you.” 
“You too,” she says, her heart not fluttering like it usually would when he said the last part. She watches him step inside the unit and make his way to the back of the room where Jeonghan pointed out the bed he was laying in. 
“Now you believe me,” he says and all she can do is nod. “Not even the doctors know what’s going on. What hope do I have if you don’t even know what’s going on?” he sighs, sounding defeated. “Maybe it all goes back to that weird guy. He must have done something to me. It’s the only explanation that I have.” 
“What weird guy?” she asks, now looking at him.  
“There was this weird guy that was leaning against my car, he was talking nonsense, then I passed out when I went to leave and woke up here, like this,” he explains. “He told me the person who can see me will know his name,” he adds looking at her, expectantly. 
“I don’t know anyone who would do that,” she tells him.  
“He also said something about the Gods,” he says, thinking back to the strange encounter.  
“The Gods?” she asks, surprised by his words. “If the God’s are involved, I’m not the person you’re looking for. I just see, feel and communicate with ghosts, that’s it.” 
He rolls his eyes, “I’m not exactly a ghost, am I? Yet, you can still see and talk with me.” 
“This- this is way above my pay grade,” she shakes her head, now trying to deny that this was happening. “Not that I get paid for it. I should go. I wish you luck with everything and I hope you find the answers you’re looking for.”  
“You can’t leave-” Jeonghan starts as Y/N begins to walk away at a fast pace, trying her best to put distance between them.  
She steps inside the elevator, her eyes connecting with Jeonghan’s desperate ones, one last time before the doors close. 
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@staytiny2000 - @rainydayteacups - @hipsdofangirl - @do-you-remember-summer-127 - @cookiearmy
@catzachvsvt - @ateez-atiny380 - @lovrehani - @reiofsuns2001
@lixisoul99 - @satoruifys
** Bold means I wasn't able to tag you at all or properly. If you get the notification please let me know. If not, make sure to check your settings. I made this post: how to change mention (tags) settings on phone.
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