#he isn’t from the deep dark the people there just hate him ok. reasonably
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MISCHIEF — elusive, monstrous demon foe of deep dark lore, and YOUR best friend! ✦
#mischief#peitalocs#peitart#friendship city#character design#clown#original character#mc oc#he isn’t from the deep dark the people there just hate him ok. reasonably#he has lego hands and loves um ummm building things
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come back... be here | ni-ki
✧ synopsis: working at a cafe can be really fun: the customers being nice, cracking jokes with your coworkers, singing while brewing coffee and so on. but it's even more fun when two members of the staff bicker and fight all day and keep everyone entertained. that's what hybe cafe is like, thanks to ni-ki and y/n.
⋆09 mean girls (written 0.9k)
while watching a film, eunchae had one thing on her mind: how to bring up the topic she wanted to discuss with her best friend.
it wasn’t like it was difficult for her to talk with ni-ki. actually it was the easiest person to talk with. they also had known each other for such a long time that awkadìrdness did not exist between them.
either way, eunchae wanted to bring up the topic but the boy was focused on the film. i mean, sure mean girls was a really good film but ni-ki was obsessed with it for some reason. he loved karen. in his words “keren is the stereotype of a girl that just hasn't found her thing and for that reason she is painted as someone that is stupid and doesn’t use her brain. it's a pretty misogynistic view and i like to think that people that think of women like that are also the people that never found their thing and kinda relate to her character, but unlike her, they never made it in life and found their passion and have a boring, sad life”
he was very passionate about it. so it isn’t hard to imagine why it is difficult to distract him from the movie.
“so ni-ki, is the film hitting like usual?” asked eunchae
“this movie can never not hit. it’s always so good and perfect. i love it” he said, without taking his eyes off of the tv.
“can i ask you something?”
“is it something quick?”
“not really to be honest”
“ohhh then its important. im gonna stop the movie” he said, finally turning his attention to his friend. he stopped the film and put the popcorn aside. “what is it?”
eunchae waited for a second to think about her next words “ you know your private twitter?”
“yeah, what about it”
“you have been doing something pretty suspicious lately” she said carefully
“you mean quote retweeting y/n’s tweets?” he said, raising a brow.
“exactly”
“i knew you would ask me about it. either it was going to be you who questioned me or jake”
“so, do you want to talk about it?”
“i think so??”
he was a bit troubled. he wanted to keep that thought to himself in some ways. but that desire was thrown away the moment he started retweeting stuff on twitter (or x maybe??? he still wasn't used to that name). but he also knew, and jake had made that very clear the other day, that keeping stuff to himself too much would end up badly. so he came to the conclusion that talking with one of his best friends, was the best decision.
“you probably know that i feel… i don’t know, i feel somewhat jealous of y/n” said ni-ki. he was being careful
“what do you mean?”
“i dont know…” he paused for a second “i feel jealous when i see her talking and bantering with other people”
“i see what you mean” responded eunchae
“i think it as our thing” he took a deep breath “annoying each other, i mean”
eunchae nodded in agreement
“and after a while i kinda realized that that is not something people usually think about their so called enemy” his gaze went to the ground and his hands started to play with the hem of his dark gray t-shirt. he was nervous
“that how people feel about their crush, i think”
there where a few seconds of silence, until eunchae decided to finally break it.
“you have finally come to that conclusion ah”
ni-ki looked at her weirdly “what do you mean?”
“ever since you started working at hybe cafe, i noticed that you talked about y/n a lot, especially for her to just be the one coworker you hated”
“so you knew before me” he was looking at her with slight disbelief in his gaze
“i mean yeah… i know you better than anyone else, so it’s not weird for me to notice it before you. and also you were and still are a obvious” she admitted
“ok now, what do you mean by that? i feel like i hid it well”
“not from jake and i”
“ohh shut up! i’m not that bad!” he smiled, the tension having left room for a while now
“bro, you don’t get it! when you are with her you keep on scrunching your nose to hide the smiles: and your cheeks get so red sometimes! its kinda cute to be honest with you” she replied with a smile similar to her best friend
“bro i’m literally not cute what do you mean? i am a manly man” he replied
“sure manly man, go back to watching mean girls now” eunchae said laughing
“sure thing” responded ni-ki, grabbing his popcorns from the side and putting the movie back on.
eunchae grabbed her hot chocolate with whipped cream and drank a bit of it. she looked at her best friend proudly: he had finally come to terms with the crush he had been developing for months
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✧ note: he did it everyone!!!!
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#。゚☁︎。⋆ ray writes#☁︎ come back... be here ☁︎#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen smau#enhypen fic#enhypen social media au#enhypen fluff#ni-ki smau#ni-ki fluff#ni-ki scenarios#ni-ki x reader#enhypen#ni-ki
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shotgun kiss
rating: nsfw / E
pairing: eren x mikasa | read on ao3
summary: “Do you want a puff?” He should feel terrible, but the more she looks at him that way– sweet, trusting, he gives into the pulsing desire in his gut.
“I-I don’t really know how to,” -
“… I’ll teach you. Put in your mouth.” It sounds kind of crude the way he says it, makes her think of other things, memories from when they were a lot more intimate. He places the joint between her lips and says, “… Suck.”
a/n: ok so some of u tumblr fam have read parts of this before, but I have added about 2k+ of smut in celebration of kinktober, and it is now complete so yay!
She doesn’t know what she’s doing here. The minute she steps inside she’s overcome by how much she doesn’t fit in here.
(Maybe that’s why he left, why he doesn’t keep in touch— maybe she just doesn’t fit into his lifestyle anymore)
There are so many faces she doesn’t know, just a lot of people in varying styles of black, and some flashes of metal here and there.
There are some people on the couch crowding around the bong, and they seem to be playing some sort of game where people take hits from the bong depending on their answers.
There’s a couple in the corner making out, or maybe three of them she isn’t sure, who are only decent because of the way their hands cover each other up.
She’s certain she can feel eyes on her, and she cringes inwardly because she probably sticks out like a sore thumb - pale pink blouse and modest but figure-hugging denim. She looks almost virginal in this house.
Thankfully she knows this house - basement? - well enough to find her way to the kitchen, and she reaches for a glass of water, to calm herself down.
“… Sure you don’t want anything stronger?”
Gulping, she turns to face him, watching her with a detached expression. “… Eren.”
He looks every bit as handsome as she’d always thought he was, growing up. Except instead of his boyish enthusiasm, his green eyes glow with a sort of magnetic darkness, his willowy brown hair pulled up into a messy bun.
There’s a new tattoo that peaks out on his collarbones, some sort of wings that are still healing. “… I didn’t know you were having a party today.”
“Yeah,” he walks towards her, “… I don’t recall inviting you.”
She winces at his not-so-subtle reminder that he doesn’t want her here. “So what did you come here for, since it’s certainly not to have fun? That’s not really your style, is it, Mikasa?”
His eyes give her a once over and she can’t tell if he’s displeased or just simply unreadable; she can’t tell a lot of things about Eren nowadays. He takes a puff from his joint, his perfect lips pursing for an exhale.
“What are you smoking?” She asks, trying to sound conversational. Her tone doesn’t sell it though.
His eyes narrow. “What does it matter? You’re just about to tell me a million reasons why I shouldn’t be doing it anyway.” His lips curve in a mocking smile.
She looks away from him. A huge part of her hates it, hates what he’s become, a boy who’d only wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, studied his ass off to get into med school only to drop out two years later. The last time she’d confronted it, she’d asked him how he even supported himself if he’d dropped out of school and quit his job. The grin he’d given her told her maybe it was better if she didn’t know how he made his money nowadays.
The smaller, more desperate part of her just wants to ignore all of it; she misses him, misses being a part of his life, and thinks maybe she could at least turn a blind eye to his self-destruction if she cannot save him from it.
“Maybe I just wanna try it,” she says defensively, not sounding convincing in the least.
He raises his eyebrows, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “… Yeah?”
She nods hesitantly, biting her lower lip as he moves closer to her, making her step back subconsciously against the counter. “Well why not,” he murmurs, “… maybe sweet, perfect Mikasa’s finally going to learn to have some fun.”
He takes a deep inhale of the joint, eyes boring into her before he drops lower, lips hovering just over hers. The proximity is enough to make her gasp, lips parting slightly, her body feeling hot when he slips his knee between her thighs.
He exhales directly into her mouth, the intoxicating smoke flowing directly into her. “Take it in, sweetheart,” he urges, “… till your throat burns.”
Mikasa does as he says, eyes watering a little from the smoke, the taste and smell being completely new to her. She’s not sure if it’s the smoke that’s making her feel heady or if it’s the fact that his lips are so close to hers, they’re literally brushing against hers.
His hands find purchase on her hips, his thumb brushing under her sweater and against her taut abs. “… Again?”
She nods, and he does it again, and she wonders if she imagines his leg brushing just a little closer to the warmth between her legs. After he blows into her mouth, this time, his lips fall just below her lips, pressing featherlight kisses along her jawline.
She coughs lightly, and he looks up at her. “… You okay?” Her pupils are dilated just a little bit, pink lips parting invitingly.
“A little dizzy,” she breathes, “… or something like that.” She can barely recognise her own voice.
He smiles, regarding her intently, and her heart skips a beat because it’s been so long since he’s looked at her with affection in his eyes.
“… You like it…” A question? A statement? She has no idea. All she knows is that his breath is kind of tickling her lips, and she’s rubbing down on his thighs, sort of, and yeah, she does like that.
“You want another shotgun kiss, sweetheart?”
She’s not really sure what it means, but whatever he was smoking was starting to get to her, and it’s kind of taking over her body, like a warmth, relaxing, uncoiling, and she doesn’t really want to think about it too much anymore, so she nods, whispering, “… Please, Eren.” And maybe she just really likes it when he talks sweet to her like that.
It’s so transparent, Eren feels guilty. She’s in his arms, relaxed like she hasn’t got a care in the world. Apart from getting him to kiss her. It’s so sweet, the way she begs him with just her eyes, it goes straight to his cock. That’s why he preferred the distance between them.
Miss Goody-two-shoes Mikasa Ackerman with her perfect grades, perfect career… perfect fucking body. She never did anything wrong… except for Eren Jeager. Classic bad boy with anger issues and a penchant for things on the other side of the law. At first, she’d tried to lecture him, pull him back, and remind him of all the good things he wanted from life, but he isn’t sure if he wants all those things anymore.
But Mikasa? She used to be a good thing in his life. Maybe the only thing he still wanted… regardless of how much ever he tried to push her away. It was even harder to deny now, when she was so pliant in his arms, silly grin on her cheeks, lips shining from where she licked them.
He blows the smoke into her open mouth slowly, hands on her cheeks as soft as he can manage. Runs his fingers through her hair afterward as he watches the haze in her eyes. “You good, Mikasa?”
She hums, closing her eyes. It was too tempting to pass up. He kisses her slowly, suckling her lower lip and pulling it into his mouth, one hand finding purchase on her hip. The fact that he gets to kiss her after so damn long (he’d almost given up on them ever getting back together), even though he knows he’s probably taking advantage of the situation, gets him carried away. He likes feeling her relax in his arms, watching her pupils dilate in this heady mixture of intoxication and arousal, seeing her nipples poking through the soft fabric of her blouse.
Mikasa’s lips are so pretty, so perfect, he’d always been enamoured by them, by how they feel, how they look when she’s happy. She giggles when it finally hits her, breathes on his ear that he’s tickling her with all these kisses. It makes him do it even more, if only that he can see her laugh with him again. They’d been fighting for several months now; all he’d ever see in her eyes was disappointment.
So he commits it to memory, her laugh, her arousal, takes it a step further when his hands reach inside her shirt to grope at her breasts and fondle her nipples. “Eren, there’s people here,” -
“And none of these people care, Mikasa.” He lifts her up swiftly and places her on the counter. There’s clear apprehension in her eyes as she looks at him. He picks up his joint and takes a drag.
“Do you want a puff?” He should feel terrible, but the more she looks at him that way– sweet, trusting, he gives into the pulsing desire in his gut.
“I-I don’t really know how to,” -
“… I’ll teach you. Put in your mouth.” It sounds kind of crude the way he says it, makes her think of other things, memories from when they were a lot more intimate. He places the joint between her lips and says, “… Suck.”
She does exactly as he says, pursing her lips around the joint and sucking hard. The smoke fills her mouth and abruptly she coughs sputtering all around her.
Smirking, he murmurs, “… You have to hold it in, babe. You can do that, can’t you?”
She’s not really sure if she’s imagining it, but she feels nervous under his gaze, exposed maybe, and it makes her body feel hot. Tears in her eyes from the smoke, she tries again, this time letting the acrid smoke go down her throat. She lets it out in a more controlled exhale, not without a few stray coughs. “I don’t think I’m very good at it,” she says, throat itchy.
She scrunches up her nose, looking absolutely adorable.
“Relax, Mikasa. You don’t always have to be good at everything, you know.” He boops her nose playfully, remembering how much he hated that growing up; she was good at school, good at sports, good-looking, good at heart -
He’d hated her almost as much as he loved her. (Was it all that different now?)
Her eyes widen, cheeks flushing as she looks at him in a kind of dazed wonder. She rubs the tip of her nose gingerly. “… it’s been so long since you’ve done that.”
Shit. It was just a gesture he’d done so many times, he hadn’t even thought about it before doing it. Hell, he’d practically been kissing her minutes ago, and that hadn’t sounded off any alarms in her head apparently, but a little nose boop had her looking at him with the kind of hope in his eyes that he just didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to deal with right now.
“Forget it,” he says, harsher than he intended, reassessing the position they were in; faces mere inches from each other, him nestled between her legs in the corner of the kitchen. “… I shouldn’t have done it.”
Shouldn’t have kissed her, because it’s all he can think about even though he’s stepped back and put some distance between them. His lips burn where they touched her skin, her mouth, craving a sensation he has no business seeking anymore.
She pulls on his sleeve and his gaze flies back to hers, pretty grey orbs looking at him pleadingly. “… I miss you, Eren.” Very simply, a truth she doesn’t hesitate to say. Eren thinks she’d say it even if she wasn’t high because that’s just how she was - honest, simple, perfect. “Don’t you miss me?”
Her voice wavers because she’s scared to hear it, afraid that he’s going to say no and push her away like he has for the last few months; he’d tell her he doesn’t care and step on her heart the way he’s done unflinchingly in the past. He sees it, sees the vulnerability, and he hates himself for it.
It’s an addictive kind of pain, a stabbing self-loathing that came with loving Mikasa Ackerman. He’d never felt good enough for her even when he was doing everything right - doing med school and a part-time job, driving up every Sunday to meet his father, taking flowers to his mother’s grave.
Now he can’t bear to do any of it, he feels betrayed by all that he thought was right, and anything more than waking up and distracting himself from it all feels like a weight he isn’t strong enough to carry. Especially when the weight is from his girlfriend’s crushing disappointment.
This is why he’d distanced himself, why he doesn’t like her coming over, why he can’t bear to be near her anymore. He takes a deep drag and prays that the smoke in his nostrils and his mouth will make it all hazy again, because he doesn’t want to see these things clearly anymore.
He shuts his eyes for a brief moment, whispers, “Why? Why do you miss me, Mikasa?”
Because what else do I do for you other than weigh you down?
She threads her fingers into his, pulling him closer. “… it used to feel good,” she breathes, kind of wistful, “being with you.”
He feels the whisper on his chin, her lips brushing against his skin, and he feels it; it used to feel more than just good… being with her used to feel right.
As right as it does right now, when her legs loop around his thighs, locking him into place flush against her hips, her hands resting on his chest.
He’s starting to recognize that he’s already ruined, he’s already fucked up, and maybe there’s no point overthinking this anymore. Taking another drag, this time he runs a thumb along her lip and opens her mouth before he shotguns into her. Maybe it’s selfish, but he doesn’t want either of them to be seeing clearly when none of this is real.
“I could make you feel good again,” he murmurs, hands roaming her thighs, loving the feel of her in his hands. (He’d missed her too, how could she ever have thought otherwise?)
“Mmhmm.” Her hands thread into his hair, and she angles herself against his mouth, tasting his weed-stained lips, tongue tracing his teeth before it slips inside of him.
She tastes a little bit like him, of regret and smoke but mostly of longing, and it makes him yearn for her in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to recently. Her breasts press up against his chest, and it feels so natural, so unbelievably good, he almost groans into her mouth.
He wants her to feel good too, he wasn’t lying when he said he would do it; that’s what she misses about him after all. His fingers reach for the button of her jeans and slide her zipper down, and he feels her gasp against his mouth. “… What are you,” -
“I thought you wanted to feel good, baby,” he says, knowing just how unfairly he was twisting her own words. The hitch in her throat however tells him she doesn’t truly mind this, not at all.
His thumb reaches into her panties and finds her weakness immediately. He brings it to his mouth and licks the pad of his thumb, his eyes not leaving hers, enjoying the way her mouth parts wantonly with the knowledge of what he was going to do.
He brushes against her clit and she arches, unprepared for how good it would feel. She hears the noise of someone rummaging at the other end of the kitchen and she stills, panicking.
“Relax,” he tells her, because she’s still too tense, there’s no way he’d let anyone see her; his entire frame blocks any vantage point anyone else could have of her. “Focus on my fingers, baby. That’s it.”
She’s unbelievably wet, his index and middle finger are drenched as he works them into her. “… Do you really think I’d let anyone else watch you when you’re like this?” His lips hover over the shell of her ear. “When you’re dripping onto my fingers,” he nibbles on her lobe, “like a slut?”
She tightens around him as he says it, cheeks burning, a low moan escaping her lips. He kisses her again, before she can get too loud, consuming her little whimpers before they can escape him.
She feels so precious like this, so small, clinging on to him while he makes her come with just his fingers. “It’s been a while since you’ve done it, haven’t you?” He wonders if it’s the weed that makes him ask this so boldly, if that’s what makes her blush when she nods. She’d come so quickly, so easily, like all she needed was his touch.
He likes it though, likes that he still has this effect on her, that despite all the disappointment he seems to cause, he can make her unravel for him in minutes. He extracts his fingers from her pussy and keeping his gaze fixed on hers, slips them into his mouth, sucking deliberately.
“You taste just as sweet as I remember, Mikasa.” he murmurs.
Her hands move to his pants, tugging on his zipper. “Am I allowed to taste you?”
He can feel himself grow harder at her words. He thumbs her lower lip, pink with saliva and the juices from her cunt that were on his finger. “Did you miss that too, baby?” And when she blushes he says, “Beg me for it and I’ll let you.”
She threads her hands around his neck, reaches up on tiptoe and clings to him, breath hot on his ear. “I missed sucking you off, Eren. So much.” And God, if that wasn’t hot enough, she brushes her fingers against his bulge. “Please?”
Maybe a younger version of him, less experienced, would have made a mess of himself on the spot. His hand moves up to grip her neck, tipping her mouth up to meet his. Exactly then, he hears an absolutely unwanted, annoying, infuriating voice call his name. “Jaeger, Connie got a bit uh, enthusiastic and um, broke the bong. Do you have– Whaaa–”
Eren turns to the side, his gaze blistering with fury. “Get the fuck out, Jean.”
It takes a second for Jean to fully comprehend the scene in front of him. Maybe because he’s stoned out of his mind, he lingers, his gaze taking in Mikasa tucked into Eren’s chest, her messy state of dress. “Didn’t know you guys were back together,” he says slowly, the faint fire of lust glowing in his eyes.
“We’re n—”
“It’s none of your business, actually.” And this time he doesn’t hide the venom from his voice, his grip on Mikasa’s neck tightening.
Jean smirks, levelling with Eren for a hot minute. And then he puts his hands up and walks out. Before he leaves the kitchen he turns over his shoulder and says, “Missed seeing you around, Mikasa.”
Dick.
“Get on your knees, Mikasa.” His grip is firm around her neck, and his gaze is burning— annoyed, possessive? She couldn’t tell.
When she hesitates, he narrows his eyes. “Just one minute ago, you were begging? And after Jean came in you’re suddenly not interested anymore? Is that how easy it is to change your mind, sweetheart?”
The anger lacing his voice should scare her. Maybe if she weren’t so fucking high, it would. But all she can focus on is what she wants; and she’s willing to beg for it. “I was just wondering if we could go somewhere more private, Eren. I don’t want anyone to interrupt us again.”
He considers her slowly, lets the anger ebb and fade. Rubs his thumb against her neck softly, before dropping a kiss on her collarbone. “He’s always been sweet on you, that motherfucker.”
His kisses feel like little shots of vodka poured straight into her bloodstream. The possessive edge to his voice makes her clench her thighs. “Let’s go to your bedroom.” Her fingers slip under his shirt. “Please.”
He loved hearing her beg, but he doesn’t make her beg too much. He doesn’t have the patience for it. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.”
If people see them when he carries her up the stairs, he doesn’t care. If they think they’re back together… Well let them fucking think it. When he shuts the door behind him, she immediately slinks down to her knees.
It was fucking heavenly. The sight of the girl he loved so eager to blow him, so fucking sweet as she pulled him out of his pants and licked him from the balls to his head? Pretty fucking hard to beat.
He lets her warm up, licking and sucking the tip, being cute with her kisses, until he pushes forward, goes a bit deeper, makes her gag, murmuring, “You’re so fucking perfect, it pisses me off.” She lets out a gasp as he slips out of her mouth with a pop, cock smacking against her cheek.
He fists his hand in her hair, pulling her gaze up to him. A string of spit falls down her chin. “You satisfied, Mikasa? This is what you wanted, right?” He smears the spit along her cheek with his thumb.
She touches her tongue to his head, licking the precum on top. “Wanna taste your cum,” she says faintly, pretty grey eyes flickering away from him.
Suddenly he’s overcome with the urge to kiss her. It’s a little bit sappy and mostly ruined, but this is how she fucks him over— tells him sweet things and then dirty things with that perfect mouth of hers. Makes him want to spout fucking love poems when his dick is hard in her mouth.
“Maybe… I don’t want to come in your mouth.” He nuzzles her chin, watches as she looks somewhat dejected.
He pulls her up to her feet, makes himself comfortable on the bed, nestling her between his legs. Trailing his hands over her toned belly, his hands dip lower until he cups her pussy over her jeans. “Maybe I want to come in here.”
“You ok with that, Mikasa?” Almost inadvertently, she clenches her thighs. He can feel the warmth radiating from her. “Mmm-hmm.”
“Gimme a kiss,” he murmurs. She bends down and kisses him, open-mouthed, kinda messy, the smell of smoke still heavy on her tongue. He plays with her tongue, sucking, pulling it into his mouth and savouring it.
“So fucking sweet,” he tells her, “... you do whatever I ask for.” He unzips her jeans, pulling them down along with her panties. His gaze darkened salaciously as it dropped from her face to the place between her legs. “But you were gonna tell Jean we weren’t back together, right?”
His fingers dip inside of her again. The second time that day that he found her wet and wanting. When he thinks about the fact that she was this riled up just from giving him head… He wanted to be inside her so badly. He pulled his fingers out of her and saw them glisten. She didn’t even need the fucking foreplay.
She looked at him, conflicted. “But we’re not,” she mumbles. “You didn’t even want me here.”
“And you didn’t want people to think we were together.” He sounded a bit crazy to his own ears, but he didn’t care. “Wanted people to think this didn’t belong to me?” And almost cruelly, he pinches her clit.
Moaning, she almost falls forward, bracing herself on his shoulders. “Never,” she whispers shakily.
“You’re soaked, Mikasa.” Lifting her by the hips, he throws her onto the bed beneath him. Without him asking, or prompting, she spreads her legs to accommodate him as he nestles himself between her legs. Grinding down onto her through his boxers, he says, “Fucking drenched.” His hand splays around her throat before he kisses her. Hard. “Because of me.”
And before she can even say yes, that nobody else could ever have this effect on he slips his boxers down and sheathes himself inside her, fully, in one smooth motion.
“I missed this,” she says hoarsely, as she adjusts to the size of him, as he fills her up slowly. “Missed you, Eren.”
She says it so easily, so sweetly, he kind of envies her. Is this what it’s like to love without pride or anger or the debilitating insecurity of never being enough? Because how much ever she sighs his name when he fucks her, he can’t shake that little niggle at the bottom of his heart that tells him that he’s ruining a girl who’s far too good for him. So instead of saying it back he kisses her harder, swallowing her words, allowing only her moans when he talks dirty to her. When he tells her she’s so good, so good for one thing— and that’s taking his cock.
He palms her breasts, reaching down to kiss them, pinching them as he sees her reaching the edge. She’s the prettiest thing as she comes, back arching off the bed, toes curling, mouth open as she gasps his name in pleasure. It’s his most favourite sound. And once she’s done, she whimpers, “You promised.”
“What’d I promise you, baby?” And for a moment he’s worried. Because sometimes she feels so fucking good, he tells her things he can’t really reason, promises her the fucking world, and the moon if she wanted it.
He thrusts in and out of her, a bit unsteady, his thrusts shallow, because she’s so fucking slick it feels like she’s going to milk the orgasm right out of him.
“Said you were gonna cum inside of me,” she pants, fingers digging into his arm as she winced from the aftershocks of her orgasm.
He pulls her hair away from her face, sweaty and matted to her face. Kisses her by the side of her mouth because that’s all he can manage. He buries his face in the crook of her neck. “Not wearing a condom, Mikasa,” he breathes, so fucking close he’s nearly a second from blowing.
“Don’t care, Eren. You promised–”
“Gonna come, baby,” he groans, the most pathetic warning, because he before he even finishes that statement, he’s spilling into her. Thick and hot deep inside of her, making her feel dirty with the feeling of having him as deep inside of her as he possibly could be.
They lay together after that, his breaths harsh next to her mellow ones. As he slips outside of her, she can feel the essence of him drip down her crack, pooling onto the sheets. “You’re impossible, you know that,” he whispers, slipping one finger between her legs and pushing his cum back into her slit almost absent-mindedly.
“Can’t say no to you, can’t get you out of my mind.” Tiredly he places a kiss on her forehead. She doesn’t say anything, still looking somewhat dazed.
“You feeling okay?” He asks, concerned. She’d never smoked before and even though it was possibly too late to develop a conscience, the guilt had caught up with him.
“Why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?” She looks at him sincerely, lips swollen from his kisses. “I can’t get you out of my mind either.” She snuggles into his arms, mumbles something into his skin.
It sounds suspiciously like, “It’s because I love you.” And it could be so easy to say it back— the way Mikasa does, innocent, sweet, pure. But Eren isn’t like that. There’s nothing innocent about him— not his heart and not his body. Nothing sweet about the way he wanted her; a vicious, undeniable creature inside of him that kept him dishonest.
So he just sighs, pretends he doesn’t hear it when he really does, when it sits inside of his heart like a heavy thing, and places a kiss on her shoulder, stroking her back until she drifts off to sleep. “It is a bad thing,” he murmurs, before his eyes fall shut. “Good girls like you deserve better.”
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i know i have talked enough about Hades and Nico already, but i don’t care anyway so here we are, again.
I have just realized that, in spite of being outcasted by his lineage, Nico has never once despited his blood, nor did he blame his father.
Sure, he spoke bitterly about it:
“…I'm the son of Hades, Jason. I might as well be covered in blood or sewage, the way people treat me….”
But he didn’t sound like he was denying it, did he?
And when Nico turned Bryce into a ghost, he was sort of proud about it. He held himself with dignity of a child born from the coldness and righteousness of the Underworld. Yes, he was devastated when he thought Reyna was scared of him, but he didn’t regret it in the first place, either.
Nico was aware that him being a son of Hades unsettles people. Yet I don’t recall he:
- hating it
- fearing it
- trying to get rid of it.
Naturally, when people look at you as if you are a bad omen due to your inherent characteristics, you’d try to hide it, wish it erased, pretend to be ‘normal.’ It makes even more sense when it’s sort-of morbid powers such as Nico’s underworld magic.
Yet, Nico didn’t. He doesn’t.
He doesn’t want it. That’s for sure. Maybe in the next time he wouldn’t choose to be a demigod (if he gets to choose). But he doesn’t hate it.
On the contrary, Nico chose to embrace it. He learnt how to control his so-called creepy, dark powers from Minos, whom he summoned by his own will. Alone. And I believe Nico is the youngest, if not the first, to master his godly part in that level. He brings forth such a wide range of abilities with a full grasp of their limitations and potentials. All of which came from extensive - mostly self-taught, he was willing, ok?! - experiences. I cannot imagine how deep he has gotten into his powers to manipulate them so well.
Percy is somewhat scared of his water - liquid - bender. Nico has never shown any sign of fearing death, has he? In fact, he knows it intimately. He feels comfortable talking to the deceased. He feels comfortable shadow traveling (the over-exertion is just an unwanted after effect). He sent Bryce to Asphodel with pride and a strong belief in justice. He feels comfortable walking around the Underworld and visiting his father.
I don’t think Nico would do it if he resented his lineage.
And talking about family, I do vaguely remember somewhere Nico did remind (more like scream at his face, maybe) Hades that he was outcasted due to being a son of Hades? I can’t find the exact quote and my memory is a but fuzzy, i’m sorry, but to me it sounded like a reminder to prove a point, to pursue Hades to help the Olympians, not a blame.
Yes, Nico resented his father before. Yet that was for a multiple of reasons, all of which has nothing to do with the fact that they were father and son. Bianca’s death, Hades’ apathy, the deception, bla bla… yes, maybe - but, “I didn’t want to be your son!” No. Never.
Not mentioning Nico has one of the closest godly parent - demigod relationship with his stone cold father. I have said this more than once and i’d say it again and again. Percy isn’t that much close with Poseidon. And Zeus doesn’t deserve to be in the chart.
Yes, he was insecure. Yes, he loathed himself for a long time for a litany of depressing reasons. But the part of the Underworld inhabiting him will not go rejected.
Nico di Angelo accepted his blood, his powers, his godly half - even when it distances him from the living.
And I cannot stress how proud and inspired I’m feeling right now.
#yone rambling#nico di angelo#pjo#hoo#toa#trials of apollo#heroes of olympus#percy jackon and the olympians#hades (pjo)#underworld family#feel free to correct me if i mistook some part of the canon#i hope this is canon compliant#oh who am i kidding this is what i want to believe and i will believe#nico and hades
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Hi, I love your work and if your requests are open would you consider the following?
Monoma is on patrol with y/n and Monoma being well....Monoma, he was horny and was teasing y/n. Not having any of this shit, she proceeds to dom the fuck out of him during patrol. She takes him into an alleyway and fucks him with a strap that she had on her already (she was already planning on something but didn’t go through with it because work is work and she’s aware that Monoma and her could take their time when they got home). She pushes him into the wall and fucks him silly. Monoma is loving it and keeps begging “Mommy fuck me more, please!”. She gives him what he wants but she tells him to be quiet or else the bystanders would fine their great Phantom Thief in a puddle of his own cum while getting fucked by his mommy. At some point two civilians hear Monoma panting and hiccuping and get concerned. Y/n keeps fucking him and reassures them that Phantom Thief is fine. He cums then and there and she tells him to reassure the civilians that he’s ok. Monoma whimpers out that he’s fine and y/n cleans him up and cuddles him in the alleyway telling him how much of a good boy he was.
(I’ve been thinking about this ever since I read your shower blowjob story. This man makes the dom in me go crazy. He’s already a whining bitch, having him be like that in the bedroom just- 😫)
Let me say that I’ve had a scene in my head almost the same as this one you sent me and I am absolutely thrilled because yessss more attention to bratty baby Monoma ٩(♡ε♡)۶
And honestly, this man is just asking for it. Bet he wants to fucked anywhere, anytime, as long as he's put back into his place. That's his kink-
𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Monoma Neito
𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 3.5k
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, pegging, mommy kink, slight exhibitionism, public sex, mentioned sex toy (butt plug), implied overstimulation, multiple orgasms, implied after care, domme!reader, sub!character
𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; begging, humiliation, Monoma being a little shit, because he wanted your attention, and to rile the fuck out of you, aged-up character: Monoma is 20+
𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I unknowingly kind of changed a few things from the ask, like the conversation between Monoma and the bystanders, but I hope you like it anon! The ending is kind of rushed, sorry about that!
𝕭𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐
“Now, now, y/n, you know ignoring someone, specifically the love of your life, is a crime? How else are you to beg for my love if you go on and ignore my graceful presence? Are you listening to me? At least lend me your attention.”
He’s been like this for the past couple of hours since you’ve both been assigned together for patrol. You thought it’d be a good idea, and Monoma was also excited when your boss told you both to get ready and head to the neighborhood you’re meant to keep a watch over.
The neighborhood turned out not as empty or quiet as you expected, rather close to a busy street. Some stores and restaurants seem to align themselves around this area.
You thought things would go smoothly, go even better and much quicker now that you and your boyfriend are finally patrolling together, months since you’ve transferred to this agency from your old one.
But Monoma’s been leaving any and every snide remark since you two stepped foot into the area, teasing you for any small mistake he believes should be (loudly) called out for or simply trying to mess up your way of doing things.
You don’t even want to count how many times he’s criticized the way your hero outfit currently looks on you. And no, you’re not getting insecure, but rather more… cautious.
There’s a reason why the uniform seems a bit odd around your crotch, but he doesn’t need to know that, not here, not now. Maybe until you both get home-
You trip, almost falling flat on your face if it weren’t for your boyfriend quickly grabbing you, pulling you up to your feet as he looks at you with panic before it quickly dissipates to his stupid mockery.
“See? You cannot do anything right, not without me at least. You, my dear, cannot live without me yet you still ignored me. This is what I mean when you should listen to me. Anyone would truly be grateful for having me, Phantom Thief, as their beloved lover.”
That’s it. You usually can take so much of his weird comments, but right now he’s pulling anything out of his ass at this point. (Soon you’ll see what actually comes out.)
You don’t answer, just look around to make sure no one is watching as you grab him by his stupid tie, dragging him to the nearest alleyway you remember passing by, glad it’s still pretty empty and dark enough to hide your bodies in the shadows.
He isn’t even struggling, just letting you walk him as if he’s a dog, quietly following you. If you were to turn around, you’d see the way his eyes are wide yet full of lust, his pupils dilated as he mentally cheers, thanking the gods for listening to his horny prayers of being sucked in an alleyway.
Do you know how hard it was for him to not jump you and beg you to help him? All because of how sexy you look in your hero outfit, how the small fixes and modifications bring out more of your body, the body he loves, yearns, desires, every day and night. Hopefully you don’t find his surprise before he can debut it once you guys are back home. (But unintentionally came prepared.)
He’s a complete fool for you, but you can’t know that, or else it’ll be the end of-
“Monoma Neito. You have 5 seconds to tell me why the fuck you’re being a piece of shit tonight.”
He didn’t realize his back is against a cold wall or how you’ve trapped him between your arms, the way you’re glaring at him while counting down in such a low tone, it makes his legs feel weak and threaten to buckle..
“Horny.” He barely whispers, crazed eyes never leaving your face as he stays still, trying to control his breathing and heartbeat as you scan him from head to toe, eyes finally staying in place where his boner is visible, even with how poor the lighting is.
You grin, but not your usual friendly grin or familiar flirty grin, but the ‘I’m gonna fuck you till you die’ kind of grin.
And Monoma’s both terrified yet super, duper much more hornier than before. But, with what are you going to fuck him with?
In a flash, he’s suddenly turned around, his clothed-covered chest pressing against the wall as he feels your hands make quick work on his belt, on his pants, pulling them down to rest on his thighs. He hisses and shivers when the cold air hits every exposed part of him, yet makes his dick twitch in interest.
You also free your bottom half to finally let out the strap on you’ve luckily managed to hide until now, searching your pockets for the small tube of lube you brought with you, just in case.
But when you spread his butt cheeks, you gasp in surprise with the butt plug he’s wearing, going to grab the toy as you slowly pull it out in disbelief.
Did he know?
“I-I want you to know you’re not the, um, only one to be prepared for what they want.” Monoma speaks, but in such a soft tone that it has you wondering if he’s the same person who had pestered you since the beginning of the patrol, the same boyfriend you love who has a talent for being loved and hated simultaneously by various people.
But at least he didn’t know. He simply decided to take this extra mile.
Cute. No wonder he’s such a good boy for mommy… sometimes.
“Then I guess I shouldn’t prepare you, right?”
You don’t wait for his response, not when you dispose of the toy away from you both, and you make quick work to lube up your silicone cock.
Monoma doesn’t get to ask you about the wet sounds behind him, or ask where you threw his butt plug before you’re entering him. You felt how his body jolted, his back arching enough to push his ass back more towards you.
You land a smack against the smooth skin, listening how the impact echoes in the empty alleyway and the way he whimpers in pain.
“You’re such a slut for mommy, aren’t you Monoma?”
“Yes!”
No hesitation.
Monoma usually sounds hesitant whenever you two do something new, as if he evaluates the pros and cons from anything and everything, figuring out if he’ll come out benefitted or you.
But he sounds desperate, shameless. He sounds like he’s ready to cry.
New, but not too surprising. When he wants to, he’ll always be a good boy for his mommy.
“Want to tell mommy again why you were being a little bitch tonight?”
Never mind, his hesitation came back, his mouth pressed shut as you peek at him, trying to catch a glimpse at his periwinkle eyes, wondering what’s taking him so long to answer. He answered you so easily, so quickly a few minutes ago.
You hear a soft mumble, see his lips move but no sound gets to your ears. So you spank him once more, hearing his cute squeak and the way he fucks back.
“Louder.”
“I wanted mommy to fuck me! Fuck me until I can’t walk! Fuck me until I’m just your stupid little hole! Please? I’ll-I’ll be good now, I promise!”
If anyone were to ask you just how stupid Monoma gets when he’s completely horny and turned on, this is a prime example. His usual eloquent vocabulary? Gone. It doesn’t exist once mommy’s pleasing him.
But he’s also promising about being good? Let’s see how good he’ll be then.
No more words are exchanged, just the soft desperate pants of the pretty blond and some small airy whines that leave his mouth in anticipation for what you’ll do next.
You don’t even start slow, you go absolutely feral.
He barely gets to inhale one last deep breath until you’re fucking that out of his lungs, his head turning to look back at you as best he could as his body begins hitting the wall in front of him, his clothes rubbing against the roughness of the bricked exterior of the unknown building. He lifts head enough to not get itself hit against the wall and his hands are clawing at the bricks desperately, trying to find leverage to hold on tightly, his brain struggling to catch up with how vicious yet delicious you’re fucking him.
When he does remember he’s a human who can speak words, he cries out “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” in such high pitches, it sounds like he’s singing, probably trying to continue seducing you into such a horny haze. His pent-up sexual frustration must have been infectious, with how you find yourself being merciless with him and his ass, your hips slamming into the back of his in such a brutal pace you wonder if the skin will bruise, if he’ll be able to sit or walk properly.
Probably not, but that’s the point, isn’t it?
Your baby boy wanted you to fuck the living shit out of him, so that’s what you’ll do, it’s what you’re best at doing.
Fuck the annoyance out of him so that when you guys get home, he passes out.
You momentarily forget you guys are very much still in public and even if it’s night, civilians are very much still awake and walking, either going back home or going to work, maybe hang out with their friends or find themselves a sub to fuck.
Monoma doesn’t even warn you that he’s cumming, not even his loud, prolonged whine of your name gets your attention. But with how he’s spasming around your toy, how his hips are twitching quickly in between your hands, his eyes that never left from looking at you crossing…
Yeah, since you missed that orgasm and you’re not in the mood to exactly punish him, why not fuck him some more until he can’t remember his name and only yours?
You briefly pause, the tip of the toy the only thing still inside of him as one of your hands rubs circles on his lower back and the other remains on his hip.
Through the panting, Monoma lets out a whine, one that sounds almost disappointed. Probably because he came far quicker than what either of you two expected, or because it feels like you’re pulling out already and calling it a night.
No words are exchanged as you watch him catch his breath for a bit more, memorizing how rosy his cheeks and nose look, how the blush looks like it’s on his neck while his white pupils are fully dilated, oozing his adoration for you.
When you hear him suck in a breath, whether he’s preparing a sentence or to finish pulling himself off the toy, you slam back into him, grinning like a maniac upon feeling how his whole body jumped, going back into action and having blood pump everywhere in him, mostly towards his reawakening dick.
And you slam, slam, slam, slamming into him at such a steady pace, making sure to roll your hips the way you know will make him start squealing in such a girly tone, or like a dirty pig he sometimes becomes.
And once you feel him begin to push back on you and one of his hands leave the wall, you lean forward, pushing his body more up on the wall. He’s bent too much, it’s obvious you’re fucking him doggy style. What if people decide to go through this alley?
He obeys but whines in complaint, not wanting you to stop your ministrations as he pulls himself together, standing up as much as he could as to leave his lower back still bent for you.
“Keep your hands on the wall or else I’ll leave you here like this.”
He loves it when you speak to him in such a low voice, in such a way that you know makes him want to suck your cock for days until his jaw hurts. He puts his hands back on the wall, both placed where his face is at, acting as support as he rests his forehead there. His neck hurts a bit from how long he’s been straining to look at you.
You go back to fucking him, going back to what you were doing, moaning his name repeatedly to keep riling him up, arouse him and make him start begging for you to go faster, harder, deeper, make him dirty.
And he does with loud wails, ones that have you freezing and stopping all together, slapping a hand on his mouth and whispering how he should quiet down, unless he wants to be whored to other people.
“Be mommy’s good boy and keep quiet. Unless you want someone else’s cock.”
“No! No muh-mommy! Only y-yours~ Please!” He moans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he impatiently grinds against you, feeling how sticky his thighs are getting with sweat and some of his cum and precum, somehow.
“Mommy, fuck me more, please!” He whimpers so cutely, so pathetically, so melodically you’re sure he somehow copied someone’s siren quirk, because your head feels dizzy, your heart is beating erratically and your hips sync with the pulse, forgetting about being consistent with speed, with roughness, with how deep you reach inside of him.
Fucking him silly until he’s trying his best to muffle his screams and cries into the back of his hands pressed on the wall, his fingers trying so hard to find solace on them, to grasp the reality of him being defiled in an empty, dirty alleyway, pressed so ruthlessly against a wall he doesn’t know how exactly dirty it could be.
Monoma’s hiccuping your name until you spank him, growling softly how that’s not who you are, making him wail out “Mommy! Cumming!” in such an erotic way, you wonder if you’re fucking your boyfriend or a girl with how he’s managed to reach such an incredible pitch.
You keep going, and even when he’s done cumming, you don’t stop impaling him, and a hand goes to wrap itself around his dick, trying your best to match this chaotic fucking, hearing how he’s struggling to breath, to comprehend this painful yet electrifying pleasure.
His toes are curling in his shoes, his knees don’t stop buckling, his hips never stop trying to meet with yours, the burn of overstimulation flowing through his veins yet motivating his dick to keep going, to keep obeying, to not disappoint mommy.
Monoma’s speaking gibberish, babbling whatever nonsense and begging he could think of or come to make up, the tips of his fingers turning white with how hard they’re pressing against the bricks as he tries to not fall. He’s not sure how or why he’d fall, but with how you’re touching him, squeezing him, stroking him, playing with him, he’s ready to give into the inquiry of whether being a househusband would have you fucking him like this everyday.
It’s a weird thought, one he’s never had before, one that’s still early to even care about-
Oh my god you’re abusing his prostate!
He’s seeing stars, planets, flashing strobe lights and envisioning his uproaring third orgasm, mouth hung open stupidly as whiny sobs and strangled cries escape him, trying his best to keep quiet like you said but he can’t!
“Feels s’ good!” He slurs, once again turning his head to look at you, eyes completely wet as tears fall in graceful droplets, hair messed up and drool staining a bit of his chin.
And just as you were going to respond, you heard footsteps.
You both freeze: you’re halfway out of him while Monoma’s struggling to not let his coughing fit be heard, having swallowed his saliva far too quickly with the scare.
The sounds stop, but now you both can hear a female voice.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Monoma whimpers, embarrassed.
So this is how he’ll get caught and shamed.
This is the end of his career.
But you’re not having it, not with how his dick has stopped twitching and is starting to soften.
You’re not done yet, and neither is he.
“Answer, Monoma.” You harshly whisper, wiping your thumb over his hypersensitive tip, making him hiccup loudly before composing himself as best he could.
“Y-yes? It-It is I, Phantom Thief- ooh~”
Another voice pitches in.
“Phantom Thief? The Phantom Thief?!”
“Y-Yes!” Monoma squeaks out, trying to cover up his gasp as you begin to slowly fuck him, making sure to keep hitting him straight to the prostate, amused how he’s gripping his jaw, muffling his hiccups while frantically shaking his head, begging you with his eyes to no, no, please!
The two bystanders gasp, seemingly walking more towards where you and Monoma are, making you press him more into the wall, hoping the angle you’re both in and the small hiding spot is enough to keep you hidden.
“We’re huge fans of yours! But, um, are you alright? We heard someone crying.”
“Fuck!” Monoma whimpers, struggling to keep his breathing in check as you continue to move, even rolling your palm all over his tip, your other hand going to pull at one of his nipples.
“What was that?”
“N-nothing! I’m fin- ugh~”
“You… sure?”
“YES!”
Monoma yells, back arching as his head touches your shoulder, eyes rolling up this head as he’s torn between pushing back or bucking forwards, feeling his body submerged in such an intense heat, in such shame, in such pathetic desperation to cum, he’s begging you in quick hushed moans to please, pretty please, make him cum, he wants to cum, needs to cum again.
“And your fans?” You whisper teasingly, feeling how he shivers with how close your breath is near his ear.
“Fu-uck my fans-”
“Now now, that’s something you never said before. Did I fuck Monoma Neito out of you?”
And you go back with the brutal pace, not caring if the other two bystanders can hear what’s going on, not caring if they come out traumatized or probably aroused with how obvious it is that their dear Phantom Thief is getting fucked in a shady place, in a nasty place, yet he’s silently wailing and convulsing with everything you’re giving him.
Your hand soon enough gets sticky with what little cum his poor, weak body produced, his hole clenching tightly around your strap-on while his hands fly back to grasp any part of you that he could reach, which ended up being your head.
The bystanders speak again while Monoma’s busy wheezing his gratitude.
“Are you sure you’re alright? We could call the police-”
“I’m alright! ‘m fine~” He managed to sing-song, but if you heard a bit of his whimper seep from the last word, you don’t say anything, simply slow down your stroking before pausing.
You hear their footsteps slowly go back towards where they probably came from, making Monoma let out shaky exhales of relief and satisfaction, small giggles slipping from time to time as you kiss his neck, his cheek, his jawline.
And once you are certain you’re both alone again, you slowly pull out of him, helping him to turn around so that his back presses against the wall.
Until he grimaces.
“My essence is, from my deduction, splattered on this disgusting wall.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you point down to where his pants are, laughing harder when you see how his grimace turns into a face of disgust, horror, shame, surprise, arousal- wait what?
You don’t question the last one, simply letting out the last of your giggles while you search for the disinfectant wipes you tend to carry with you in your utility belt. And once they’ve been found, you make him lick your cum-covered hand first before properly passing a wipe. You hand Monoma one so that he cleans his face if needed, disinfect his hands, his thighs, anywhere he thought he needed to clean.
No, that's a lie. You took care of his thighs and pelvis, trying your best to clean the spots where his cum reached his pants before peppering a few gentle kisses around his exposed skin.
Pulling his briefs and pants up, buttoning, zipping, fasting his belts. You let out a happy sigh, fixing his hair and tie.
You then fix yourself.
“Who’s mommy’s good boy, Monoma?”
He somehow managed to chirp. “I am, mommy.”
“Then, you’ll stop being a bitch tonight, right? Mommy made sure to fuck it out of you.”
“Oh, um,” aw, he’s blushing. “I suppose…”
When you both walk away from the much-more defiled wall, you hold back an amused snort with how Monoma seems too unstable with his feet, how his legs seem to shake with every step he tries to take and how frustrated he looks with how uncooperative his body is.
You decide that chilling and cuddling in that corner wouldn’t be so bad, and considering how your shift ended minutes ago, you doubt either you or Monoma will get into trouble.
#✿; impurity#⏱ Monoma brain rot#bnha smut#monoma neito smut#monoma smut#sub monoma neito#sub bnha#mha smut#ლ; blasphemy#𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖆
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Can I request HSP + depression reader (who thinks they are just weak and being crybaby) x Bucky, please? I understand you are super busy right now and I didn’t mean to rush you or anything but I'm just struggling with both HSP and depression and couldn’t help but send it right now. No need to hurry, just when you are free and maybe when you had nothing to write. Thank you and I love you!
Thank you for the request, I’m sorry it’s been a difficult time for you! I’m here if you need me and I hope that this helps!!!
It’s called empathy
Bucky x reader
Word count: 1981
Warnings: depression, HSP (highly sensitive person), low self worth, negative self talk, swearing (that’s normal for me but this one’s a little extra), angst (more so internal idk if that needs a warning), fluff/comfort
Taglist: @buckys2thicc @babydaddy-buckybarnes @barnesplums @peggycarter-steverogers @mardema @abitgryffindorky @buckys-blue-eyes @strawberrimae @thatfangirl42 @freigeistundanderes @bucks-bunny @broadwaybabe18 @im-sick-of-failing
Taglist Masterlist
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Breathe in
Breathe out
In
Out
...in…
You felt a tear escape your eyes
Goddamn it
You didn’t want to cry, you couldn’t let yourself. It was stupid, it was just some shitty remark from someone when they were in a shitty mood, it wasn’t your fault, all that bullshit you tried to tell yourself. It never worked.
You were trying to control your breathing, looking up at the ceiling trying to will the tears away, biting your lip. You would not cry, not over this. Not over something that wasn’t worth your tears
Not when you didn’t even know what exactly you were crying over.
Yet here you were, gripping the edge of the bathroom sink with white knuckles, looking up at the ceiling trying to keep the tears at bay. And it wasn’t working.
Weak sensitive piece of shit.
What good were you to the team if you cry in the bathroom like a baby every time something remotely stressful happens? People usually cry when they're in pain or when they’re grieving - the only excuse you had was you were stressed or sad.
You felt another few tears escape and you angrily swiped them away, cursing yourself for being so weak.
You hated this, you hated yourself. You were so numb most of the time, especially when you were alone. You found yourself alone in your room with racing thoughts feeling like you were falling apart. Yet when you were alone you could only stare at the ceiling wondering if it would get any worse.
The answer was usually yes.
Whenever you would go on missions with the team, you were able to push aside your stress. You had a job to do and you would do it. But when the mission was over and you were walking back through the rubble - seeing all the blood, destruction, fear - then it would start to get to you. You would panic, you would feel tears cloud your vision. Tears for those you were leaving behind, and those who had nowhere to go, those who lost someone. That was understandable.
It seemed to affect you more than the others though. It was understandable to be moved by so much destruction. But for you everyone felt like someone you had known and loved.
You could feel the grief in those left behind, feel the sadness and pain that they were going through.
The same was true when you weren’t on missions. When those who were on them would come back. Whether they were injured or their eyes were saddened - you knew when a mission was rough. You would listen, you would be there for people. It was easy to talk to you, and you were very wise.
But it still overwhelmed you. You couldn’t say no, you didn’t want to. You wanted to help but it would be so emotionally taxing for you. So behind closed doors, you would break. Be there for others, listen when they need to talk, others come first - you took their emotional pain onto yourself.
You were grateful that you could help - but in the process it was hurting you.
You allowed yourself to feel sad when you were alone in your room. No one could see you be weak in the dark of your room. But you never cried much just from the pure exhaustion of your thoughts. Sometimes you wanted to, just feeling so incredibly empty that you just wanted to have an ugly crying session curled up in bed.
But you didn’t get to make that choice.
The crying wouldn’t come until the absolute worst times. If you had messed up on a mission, if Tony said something a little too harshly because to him everything was a joke, seeing something gruesome on a mission- whenever it came to someone else getting involved, the tears would come. Hell sometimes even being overwhelmed in public would be enough to start the waterworks.
You always felt so fucking weak for it. The slightest environmental stressor could stress you out too much and move you to tears. You had no reason to be upset most of the time. But you would get angry at yourself for being upset, which would make you more upset that you couldn’t control it, making it harder to control.
It was a vicious cycle.
Lately it had been popping up more and more recently. Smaller things were upsetting you more than usual. You were becoming more sensitive to external stimuli and as a result, you spent as much time as you could in your room. You were embarrassed by yourself. Both by your emotions and by your inability to control them.
This time you were just upset that you were upset. It had been a long night the day prior, just a lot of paperwork to do. There had been a mission earlier this week that you hadn’t been assigned to, but it had been brutal for everyone who had gone. So far today had been a normal day by anyone’s terms, an emotionally exhausting one for you. One of those where you woke up tired and the thoughts of another day were enough to draw you to tears. Nothing had even happened, but apparently nothing needed to happen.
Your emotions came and went without your consent.
You knew deep down it was probably some sort of emotional build up - that whole quote about bottling things up until they got to be too much - it happened every time but you still thought you could handle yourself better than that. You didn’t want to vent or be a problem to anyone. But when you are the emotional support for most of the team and you haven’t been able to get enough sleep or take time for yourself - you didn’t have much of a say as to when the bottle overflows.
A few more tears fell and you slammed your hand on the counter, wiping your tears angrily once more. “God fucking damn it why can’t you just stop fucking crying!” you exclaimed, feeling a few more tears falling “Weak piece of shit!”
There was knocking on the door, pulling you out of your self deprecating thoughts. You gasped lightly, wiping your face again.
Knock knock
You jumped a little, gasping slightly. No one was supposed to be here, it was the middle of the night.
“Y/n? What’s going on in there? Are you alright?”
You took a shaky breath. Of course it would be Bucky who heard you. Why would it be anyone else?
“I’m fine Bucky, it’s late, you should go to sleep.”
“Then why are you still awake?” Bucky responded. You heard him sigh a little outside the door. “Come out here and tell me you’re okay.”
“Really Bucky?”
“Unless you want me to come in there, but I don’t think Stark would appreciate me breaking your door.”
You took a small breath and walked over to the door, opening it. You crossed your arms and met Bucky’s concerned eyes. “I’m fine, Bucky.”
Bucky sighed, taking in your appearance. Red eyes, flushed face, your hair was messy - you were definitely crying. He hated when you wouldn’t admit that you weren’t ok. “You know you don’t have to be, right?”
You clenched your jaw, trying to keep fresh tears from clouding your vision. “What?”
“You say you’re fine, you always say that you’re fine until you break. I heard you crying, I can see that you’re not feeling okay yet still you try to keep a brave face. And I just want you to know that you don’t have to always be okay.”
You let out a breath. “I - i…” you looked down and shook your head, lost for words.
“Y/n, I’m not here to judge you. Can you try to tell me what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” you said looking up at him “It’s literally so stupid, Bucky.”
“Y/n, nothing you say right now is going to sound stupid.
You shrugged your shoulders, still not quite meeting his eyes. “I don’t know, I just get so worked up sometimes, but it’s stupid. I tell myself I’m not going to be bothered and then I freak out again. The smallest things bother me and I get stressed out and then I cry like some stupid weak bitch. People have it worse than me, God, you have it worse than me. Everyone here has some sort of traumatic awful thing happen to them and then there’s me and I get sad because I see other people sad,” you were crying again and you wiped at your face, covering your eyes. “God Im so fucking stupid I -”
Bucky pulled you into his chest as you let out a sob. “You’re not stupid, y/n.”
“YES I AM. I get worked up over the smallest shit, I don’t listen when people tell me to take breaks, I take everything too personally and I can’t stop fucking crying when I don’t even know what the fuck is wrong!” you exclaimed, trying to push yourself away, ashamed.
Bucky held you tightly, not letting you go. “That’s not your fault. It’s not up to you how your feelings show up.”
“But I cry at the most stupid shit and I can’t control it.”
“You’re not supposed to know how to control it,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “Emotions can’t be controlled. They just happen and it’s rarely convenient.”
“Then why do I feel so weak? If this,” you gestured to yourself “is so goddamn normal then why isn’t everyone else breaking down every other day?”
Bucky brushed some hair out of your face. “Your emotions are yours, no one else’s. No one has the right to tell you how to feel. Think of it this way - you can’t expect everyone to have the same amount of strength or stamina - no one has the same emotional response either. And that doesn’t make you weak, it makes you you.”
You shook your head. “I just feel so weak all the time.”
“And I’m here to remind you that crying isn’t weak. You are not a weak person, you are not a bad person, you’re not any of those things your mind tells you. You’re a kind and thoughtful person. You put your heart into everything you do. You help everyone you can. Mourning someone else’s loss isn’t weakness. It’s called empathy.”
You took a small breath. “Then why does it hurt so goddamn much?”
“”I don’t know. And I can’t say for certain that you won’t always feel that way. But I know I can tell you that you aren’t weak, and I’ll be here every time you feel that you are.”
You nodded your head slightly. “You don’t think I’m weak?” you asked quietly.
He pulled you back into a hug. “Not in the slightest, y/n.”
#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes comfort#comfort#fanfiction#MCU#MCU fanfiction#MCU fic#marvel#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#writingrequests#bucky#james buchanan barnes#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barns x y/n#bucky barns x reader#bucky barnes imagine
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Youre My Path (SMUT)
Yandere Bucky being crazy, possessive, and DARK!
TW-Mentions on non-con, drugging, stalking, and overall dark behavior. A little bit of knife play as well.
Smut SMUT SMUT
Let me know what y’all think
Today was just another boring ordinary day. You had to go to the store and stock up on some groceries that you had been planning on getting but you lacked the will power to do so. You opened your phone and looked at the time. Ugh, I need to go before they close you thought to yourself as you managed to peel yourself off of your comfy sofa. You got ready and headed towards the nearest super market.
Lately youve been having some weird feelings, as if someone is constantly watching you. You always shake it off though, because nothing ever happens to you. You always get home safe and sound. Today was a little more intense though, as if you could almost hear someone breathing behind you when you were walking to the store. Relieved to have made it inside, you grabbed your cart and started your trip through the empty isles of the store. You loved and hated to come at night, it made you feel at peace knowing there there wouldn’t be annoying ass kids and angry moms yelling at them to behave. No people blocking the isles with their carts and most importantly, no need to run into someone you knew. The only reason you hated it, was because you didn’t want to get kidnapped and left for dead.
As you made your way to the bread isle, you had that feeling again. You felt like someone was behind you, you stopped dead in your tracks to see if anyone would walk past you. You pretended to look at the merchandise and you slowly turned around to see if there was anyone there. You looked both ways, and sure enough there was nothing. You rolled your eyes and kept it moving. As your trip started coming to an end you decided to stop by the makeup isle, needing a couple of items that you would use for your upcoming date.
Usually you didn’t try this hard but you figured you would give it a shot. All the past times you went on dates they would disappear after your first date. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t try hard enough or if they simply weren’t feeling your vibe. As your mind trailed off you accidentally ran into another person with your cart, completely snapping you out of your mind. A broad man, fell to his knee. “Oh my god!!! I’m so sorry. Are you ok? God I’m so clumsy please forgive me” you said frantically as you started to help him up. He lifted his head up to meet your gaze, big blue eyes % bore%% into your own. Your eyes started to trail from his eyes, to his lips, and up again to his perfectly sculpted face. You were mesmerized, you had never seen such a handsome man. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it, y/n” he said quickly getting up and walking off with a visible smirk on his face. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, knowing damn well he did not just say your name. You werent exactly sure if your mind was playing tricks on you or if he really said what you think he had said. You got up quickly, still in shock but hoping that it was really your mind playing tricks on you. Hesitantly you continued to shop, even though there was a little voice in your head telling you to get the hell out of that store.
Bucky POV
FUCK she’s so beautiful, he thought to himself. The way you stared at him, it was clear you wanted him the way he wanted you. This was the moment that he had been waiting for ever since he laid eyes on you. He had never been this close to you, it was like a dream come true. You smelled like candy, your beautiful e/c eyes meeting his. Just how he had imagined but better. The way you apologized made him hard. Just think of how submissive my y/n will be to me mmmm I’m going to devour her in every way possible he thought to himself, smirking.
Bucky ran into you at a coffee shop near your house. It was love at first sight for him. He watched you interact with your friends, smile, laugh, and it was like a match made in heaven for him. He knew he needed you to smile for him, laugh for him, and live for him. He followed you home that night. Making sure you wanted to be safe, of course. But his monthly visits turned to weekly and then turned to daily. He eventually managed to get into your home. You left a space key under your mat, and he felt so happy yet disappointed that you would endanger yourself like that. “When we live together, I’ll make sure you don’t make silly mistakes like this” he said to himself as he got into your home.
He went through your house just browsing, seeing if anything interesting caught his eye. He then made it into your room and continued to look through your things. He found your panties next to your bed and quickly grabbed them and put him in his picked for him to enjoy later. He also took some pictures of you, to also enjoy later.
You were his new routine and he enjoyed every second of it. As time went on he would keep tabs on you, absolutely hating it when you went on dates. He was consumed with jealousy and couldn’t believe anyone would dare lay a finger on you. He knew that this would not fly and he had to make sure to get rid of any roadblocks that got in his way. Bucky murdered them and everytime he did he felt relieved, almost happy knowing that he was that much closer to you.
After his encounter with you, Bucky walked off into the parking lot, one car over from yours, slipping into the drivers seat. His mind started to go wild. He needed you so badly. He wished he could have taken you right then and there. How he wished he could be inside you, your soft moans begging him to make you feel good. His cock soon started to throb at the thought of you. He leaned back in his seat taking a pair of your panties out from his pocket. He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, moaning as he exhaled. “Fuck Y/n...you make me so horny...I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when you’re here baby just you wait”.
Wasnt long before he pulled out his dick, stroking it hard. His hips bucking into his hand wishing it was your pussy. He started to think about how beautiful your pretty mouth would be around his dick, how good your tongue would feel swiveling around his tip. Just as he was about to cum, he stopped. He growled and threw his head back lowly moaning your name. “Fuck...I cant take this anymore. I need her” He quickly tucked himself back in and relaxed.
All you could think about was how that guy knew your name. It kept replaying in your head and it didn’t make sense. You headed to your car and started to load everything in. “Hello my Y/n” you heard someone say in a low deep voice. You quickly turned around, your heart starting to beat a little faster. “Umm. Do I know you?” You asked. Bucky sighed and started to walk towards you. “Not yet doll but you will” a smirk on his face once again. You backed up as he took steps forward. “Don’t come any closer, or I’m calling the police”.
Bucky pressed himself against your body, his hands snaking their way to your hips. His face now pressed against your neck. “No you wont Princess, I know you like this. I can tell by the way that you’re breathing that you want me to keep going” his low voice going straight to your core. “N-no please...stop I ..” you tried pushing him off but you started to feel so weak. You had not noticed that Bucky had used something to drug you. All you felt was your body going limp and you falling into his arms.
Bucky smiled as you fell into him, placing a soft kiss on your temple. He noticed that someone was coming over so he quickly pressed your body to your car, and grabbed your face, kissing you. The person walking, walked a little faster as they were feeling a little awkward. Perfect he thought to himself. He placed you into the back to his car, resting your head to a pillow he had just bought and covering you with his sweater. He quickly drove off, leaving all your things by your car.
Your eyes opened, your head pounding. Wherever you were it was dark but comfortable. You groaned as you started to fully wake up, slowly sitting up. Your left hand felt heavy, you tried pulling it and you heard a chain. You yanked your hand hard again, making a loud sound. Bucky heard the noise coming from your guy’s room and he smiled and quickly got up making his way to you.
“Baby you’re awake now” Bucky excitedly said
“What’s going on..why are you doing this to me, where am I?”
“You’re home doll, with me”
“But I don’t know you” you cried softly
“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. I’ve been looking after you for a while now and it’s been a pleasure but I'm so glad that I finally have you all to myself, just how it was always meant to be”
He started to get on the bed climbing towards you. You backed up as he came towards you, your back was now against the wall, pinning yourself between the cold wall and his broad body. His hand going to the back of your neck, bringing you close to him, your lips almost touching his.
“I’ve waited a life time for this, to have you here with me. You make me crazy and I would sacrifice the world for you. Now that you’re all mine, I won’t ever loose you” he closed the gap between you two, his lips desperately locking into yours. Kissing you passionately, he was hungry and desperate. You turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss.
“This isn’t the way Bucky, this isn’t right. You need to let me go” you begged. Bucky smiled and looked down moving back away from you. It made you feel relieved that he was not too mad due to your actions. He slowly got up from the bed and went over to his dresser, rummaging through some things.
“Bucky...maybe we are in different paths right now, maybe in the future we will be together but now right now, not like this...please Bucky listen to me”, hoping that he would have a little sympathy, you used his name to make it more personal.
“You know , y/n...just because you say we are on different paths doesn’t mean it’s true” he grabbed something and started to walk towards you again. This time his metal arm reached out to pull you by your leg to the edge of the bed, giving you whiplash. He quickly climbed on top of you, pinning your arms above your head with his metal arm and pulling out a syringe with his other hand.
You quickly started to wiggle around trying to get him off you. Shaking your head, “no no please stop no”. Buckys eyes had a hint of madness to them, dark and disturbing. “Don’t worry these don’t hurt, it will make you feel better I promise”. He quickly injected it to you and you soon started to feel get hot, with a tingling sensation “This will loosen you up a bit, it’ll make you relax so that we can enjoy eachother baby”
His lips made their way onto your neck, kissing and licking you all over. Your heart started to race, your eyes closing, soft moans escaping your lips, “n-no..” Bucky grunted as his erection started to press against your clothed pussy. His hips bucking forward, dry humping you. He lowered down to your ear, whispering, “ cant you see what you do to me. You’re so sexy and sensual you’re almost making me cum in my pants with your adorable moans, my love. As much as love to hear you right now, I want you to moan and scream my name y/n...begging me to fuck you harder”
All his words, combined with his dry humping made you soaking wet. As much as you hated this you couldn’t help but moan louder. His cock pressing against you was not enough and you needed more. You tried your hardest to resist, “G-get a..way f-from me..” you managed to choke out, trying to not moan anymore and trying to push him off with your body. Suddenly Bucky got angry. Hating how you were fighting him. He tore off your thin leggings in a fast single motion, revealing your soaked panties. He took out his knife and pressed it against you, earning a frantic gasp but you stopped moving. “Stop fighting me doll, for your own good because I swear I will fucking destroy you. I’ve waited too long for this, don’t push me because you won’t like the way I punish you.But......if you behave I’ll make sure to take care of you..real good care darling” he said as his knife traced your body. He grabbed your shirt roughly and ripped it off, slicing your bra open as well.
His mouth watered at the sight of your delicious breasts, making his cock twitch with excitement. His knife trailed down to your panties, making you whimper. “You’re so delicious kitten, I’m going to fuck you so hard. I cant wait till my cock is right in here” he motioned and tapped your clit with his knife. He roughly grabbed them and ripped them open instantly. He threw his knife to the side and quickly started to rub your clit making your back arch with your eyes closed. Your moans now filling up the room. Bucky smiled and took one of your nipples into his mouth, making you quiver and move your hips down into his hand. “Mmm, I knew you wanted this..wanted me...only me” he growled against your chest. “F-fuck Bucky...keep going please”. You hated yourself for saying that but you couldn’t help it, you were in pure ecstasy.
Just as you were about to reach your orgasm, he removed himself from you. Making you whine and buck your hips up, wanting and needing his touch once again. “Don’t worry kitten, I’m not done with you yet”. He quickly undressed and positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip on your clit, making you mewl. “Tell me what you want doll...tell me what you want from me” he coaxed. You didn’t answer, as you were too embarrassed to say anything. His metal hand went to your neck, squeezing it hard. “Tell me y/n..tell me what you want NOW” he yelled, releasing his grip from your throat.
“Fuck me Bucky...please” you finally said. “I don’t think I heard you doll, say it loud and clear”. “FUCK ME BUCKY PLEASE I NEED YOU...PLEASE”. You finally broke. You needed him now, there was nothing in the world you wanted more than to have his cock inside of you, his lips on your skin and his hands all over you. You were finally filled with his big cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy. His hands on your neck, choking you but not too hard like before. His hips snapping in and out of you making your body shake.
“Such an obedient slut, MY obedient slut. I’m going to break you and bend you to my will. Making you all mine. I’ll make you crave my touch, my attention, my voice. You’re going to live only for me, doll. Only for me” he growled as he pounded into you, rubbing your clit making you loose it. He then started to feel you reach your end, making him moan, “cum on my dick baby...cum for me. Let go” he cooed as he angled himself to reach into you deeper. That’s when you felt your orgasm hit you, your body started to shake, waves of pleasure surging through your body. “Mmm Buckyyyy” you moaned. Making him loose it as well, he coated your insides in his thick warm cum. Pumping himself in and out slowly. Gasping for air.
Fuck he was such a God, he made you want more of him. It was the first night and you were already going crazy for his touch. You wanted him to keep going keep doing you however he wanted, but most importantly to keep pleasuring you. Bucky finally pulled out and laid next to you, looking at your beautiful face. He brought his lips to yours and gave you a soft kiss. “The drug hasn’t worn off baby, don’t think this is over. We’re going until we cant no more, doll.” He said against your lips, flipping you over for round two.
#bucky reader x smut#yandere marvel#yandere bucky barnes#dark! bucky x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky dark!#dark!marvel#dark!bucky barnes#winter solider imagine#james buchanan bucky barnes#sebastian smut#sebastian stan#Sebastian Stan#Bucky#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barns x you#bucky x you#marvel smut#dark fic#yandere love
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Definitely, maybe.
Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.
Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.
Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan
Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.
Word count: 6.4 k
a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.
All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.
Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.
—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.
Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.
You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.
—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.
—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.
—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.
—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.
—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.
—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.
You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.
The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.
You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.
The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.
Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.
Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.
—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.
—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée
—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.
He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.
You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.
You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”
—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.
—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.
—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?
—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.
—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.
—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.
—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.
—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.
Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.
—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.
You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.
The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.
—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.
You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.
—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.
You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.
—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.
—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.
—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.
—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.
—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.
That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.
—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.
—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.
—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.
—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.
—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.
—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.
—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?
—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.
He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.
—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.
You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.
—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.
You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.
—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.
—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.
—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.
—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?
—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.
—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.
—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.
—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.
—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.
—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.
—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.
—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.
—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.
You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.
—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.
—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.
—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.
—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.
—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.
—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.
—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.
—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.
You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.
—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.
—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.
—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.
—For the good ones.
The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.
—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?
—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.
—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.
You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.
—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.
You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.
↬☀︎︎
A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.
—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.
—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow
The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.
—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.
—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.
—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.
—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.
—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.
—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.
Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.
However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.
—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.
—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.
—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.
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#ben hardy imagine#michael b jordan fc#tom holland x reader#timothee chalamet fanfiction#pedro pascal#logan lerman fc#definitely maybe#fluff#angst#timothee chalamet#Tom Holland#Ben Hardy
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Your riven imagine was amazing! Could write about the reactions of the winx and people in school, with a light fairy from earth being with him, please? Anyways, hope you're ok :)
Come back to me (part 1)
Pairing: Riven x reader
=================================
Ever since Rosalind officially took over Alfea, Y/N had felt her hope dwindling. She’s a light fairy, she thrives surrounded by good. The darkness surrounding her is exhausting, bleeding her dry of all positive emotions.
Belief is when there is no reason to hope, when despair sets in, and yet you hold fast to a certainty that it is worth seeking the light, even if you have never seen it.
“I’m not an asshole without a cause. Trust in me.”
Riven is what Y/N believes in. Despite her better judgement, she can’t help it - she does trust in him. Even though he’s gone down a darker path than she could have imagined.
Seeing Riven as Rosalind’s private guard had been tearing her apart, more so when she saw him locking lips with Beatrix.
‘We’re just friends’, she told herself in order to not hate him for his choices. She told herself all of this is for a reason.
“Ugh, why are you staring at those two freaks”, Stella makes a fake gagging sound, drawing attention of Riven.
He glances at Stella, but his eyes are drawn to Y/N. Swallowing thickly, Riven felt his heart sink at the hurt flickering in her eyes. Exhaling through his nose, he locked eyes with Stella again, unable to bear the heaviness of Y/N’s gaze.
“What are you looking at?” Stella narrows her eyes, making Riven roll his eyes.
“I was about to ask you the same. You do know that beauty isn’t transmittable, right? Staring won’t help fix your face.”
Beatrix snickers at Riven’s snarky remark, enjoying the way Stella’s nostrils flare in rage she’s trying to contain. Y/N shakes her head, disappointed by his behavior.
Is there really any of the old Riven left inside that empty shell of his? He barely looks like the Riven she knew let alone anything else.
“Really, Y/N? This is who you swore is the kindest guy you’ve ever known?” Bloom buts in, glaring at Riven.
“I can introduce you to someone so much better”, Aisha adds only making Y/N’s heart ache.
She doesn’t want anyone else. She wants Riven. She wants the guy who’d hold her hand and tell her everything would be alright. She wants the guy who’d written her love notes and called her Sunshine. She wants the guy who made her smile with a single look, but that’s no longer possible. She sees that now.
Blinking fast, her teeth sink into the soft flesh of her bottom lip before she turns around, rushing off to find a moment alone. She needs a place where she can heave, let out the panic of her realization pass through before she loses control and blinds half the school.
She can feel her heartbeat in her throat as tears rush to her eyes. She was his Sunshine, a ray of light capable of shining through the darkness. She doesn’t feel very light and bright anymore. She feels empty and she feels angry and hopeless and bitter about losing him.
After the storms the sunshine returns, and crying is much the same, so she lets it out, she lets it go. She must.
“Sunshine?” A breathless voice freezes her in place with her hand on her chest.
Looking over her shoulder, she finds the perpetrator of her deepest pain.
“There was hope before. Just a tiny flicker.” Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, she sniffles. “Who are you now?”
“I’m still me. I’m still your Riv.” He steps closer but Y/N recoils.
“You’re not the Riv I know. And you’re certainly not mine.” She can still see his hands all over Beatrix and the flashback makes her sick to her stomach.
“I’ve always been yours, Sunshine.” Riven’s voice breaks and Y/N holds her breath with the sound cracking her sanity.
“How is it you see the suffering and choose to make it all the worse?” Sitting down, she covers her quivering lips.
“I’m not trying to make it worse, I swear”, Riven falls to his knees before her, reluctant to touch her. If he saw her recoil from his touch once again, it would kill him. They were never more than friends, but they were more together than couples who actually dated.
“Trust me”, Riven pleads, his fingers shaking as they make contact with her knees. He lets out a relieved sigh once she allows his hands to rest there.
“Trust goes both ways, Riv”, Y/N looks down to his hands, aching to take them in hers yet she can’t. She’s been itching to hold his hands for a long time now, but that would only give way for more heartbreak.
“I’m the inside man”, Riv admits and Y/N’s eyes widen. “I’m trying to find a way to take them down and get Silva out of prison. Sky knows this. Only Sky.” Shaking his head, Riv sighs, “And now you. No one else can be included, Sunshine.”
“Why didn’t you tell me from the start?” She leans in, her breath tickling his lips as their foreheads meet and they close their eyes. The intensity of the moment set them aflame for they’ve never allowed each other the luxury of such intimate touches. Not in a sexual manner, although Riven wanted her in every way, but in a way where the sound of her voice was enough to make his heart flutter. And he never had his heart flutter.
“I told you to trust me.” Riv defends, making her smile.
“You’re an asshole”, she whispers. She can’t help but wonder if he’ll kiss her, finally. The anticipation is mirrored in her shaky lips and she knows she’s so unprepared, but she longs for him.
“I’m your asshole”, Riven’s nose brushes hers and her heart skips at the notion.
Riven’s hand found the back of her neck, quickly pulling her closer until their lips touched and the words ceased. The kiss barely lasted, managing to take their breaths away in an instant. Y/N surrendered to his touch, losing her senses as his lips brought her heartbeat to the speed of light. Her lips tingled, electricity sparking up throughout her body and her hands clutched to his shirt with all their might as if he could slip through her fingers like sand. He’d been wondering how her rosy lips would taste, never quite sure if it would make any impact on him but from the way his hands tremble with her face in them tucked away safely, he knew he has been bested.
“I wish I didn’t have to leave”, he whispers against her lips before pecking them again, drunk on adrenaline her lips caused.
“Don’t leave then”, she cups his face, holding him close. The simple thought of letting him go pains her. “When you’re gone, I’m stuck in darkness.”
Drawing a deep breath, Riven inches away. Using his hands, he brings her hands down from his face, clinging to the softness of her palms for a moment longer. “Even when I’m with you, I’m darkness that’s consuming you. Sunshine, no matter what happens, I’ll always be bad for you.”
Scoffing, she narrows her eyes ever so slightly, “That should be my choice and I choose you.”
“If you cling to me, I’ll snuff out your light. It’s who I am. I’m the darkness to your light, the night to your day. These kinds of loves don’t have happy endings.” Pressing a kiss to her palm, Riven leaves Y/N in deep thought.
Is it true? Is he her darkness? How much light had he taken already? Because even with that in mind, she wished to be consumed by him entirely.
People say the darkness presses in, but that’s not true. The darkness kisses up to your skin closer than a lover’s lips and whispers excitement into your ears. The darkness becomes your best friend, a second skin that’s flattering and cool. The darkness becomes your favorite thing right up until your exits are blocked, then it has no reason to hide.
If it was easy to spot darkness there wouldn’t be a problem, now would it?
How often do you confuse day and night?
“Riven is my darkness”, she realizes and yet she doesn’t care. She’s light enough for both of them. If he is her darkness, she is his light and while the sun and the moon failed to make it work, Y/N decided to prove everyone wrong, Riven included.
PART 3
#riven fate winx saga#riven x reader#riven imagine#riven angst#fate the winx saga#fate the winx saga fic#fate the winx saga fanfic
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hi ok sooooo i have asked numerous writers for this request because i thrive on angst and fluff 👁👄👁 so here goes: a love triangle between draco, harry, and a ravenclaw reader. the reader’s been known to be head over heels in love with draco and giving him origami hearts everyday for a year or two, which he only throws in his trash bin. he usually just ignores her and finds her gestures annoying and laughable. one day, he goes too far with his rebuttals. the reader, heartbroken and realizing she had no chance at all, stopped pursuing him altogether. for the next few weeks, he found himself weirded out that he hadn’t received any origami hearts. while emptying his trashbin, he discovers that when you unfold the hearts, there were little notes of encouragement and sweet letters. just as he was about to confront her, he notices the reader folding something on her table during class and thinking it was finally another origami heart for him. however, it was a butterfly, and she handed it to harry instead. Jajdjeioa PLS MAKE IT ANGSTY AND FLUFFY IT’S UP TO U ON HOW IT WILL END BUT WOULD BE CUTE IF HARRY MADE THE PAPER BUTTERFLY FLAP ITS WINGS THO
Ok sorry for the cliche and long request, take your time and stay safe. I enjoy your writing sm 🥺
Butterflies and Paper Hearts || D.M, H.P
Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader , a bit of Harry Potter x reader but not really Warnings: ANGST, swearing, Summary: Draco doesn’t like you and tries to let you down multiple times, when it finally does work he feels regret wash over him.
WORDS : 3864
First of all, I’m so sorry for taking so long to get to this. I read the request when it first came in and I loved it but I’ve been struggling to conceptualize it, and then I fell into a bit of a sad spiral because of all the other stuff that’s been going on in my life, which is why I took me so long to complete it. Second of all, I had to amend the idea a bit to make it work for me, e.g I wrote this in an AU where Voldemort doesn’t exist because I hate mr. no-nose, and I didn’t make the hearts go on for years. Third of all, thank you so much for this request! It’s a lovely concept and I really enjoyed writing it <3
~~~
Butterflies.
Flying. Soaring. Alive.
The first time that Draco had ever noticed you was in your fourth year. You were sat at the Ravenclaw table and immersed in a discussion with Padma Patil, one that had you laughing so hard that you were throwing your head back and wiping tears from your eyes. The sight had knocked the wind out of his lungs, like someone had just punched him in the stomach, and he felt the weirdest sensation in his gut.
It was butterflies erupting.
~~~
The first time that you noticed Draco was in your fifth year. Ravenclaws and Slytherins were in Charms together, as usual, and you’d accidentally sat next to him instead of Padma.
“Dude, you’ll never guess what happened this morn-“ You stop speaking the second you notice that the person beside you is, in fact, not your best friend but rather a scowling Slytherin. “You’re not Padma.” You frown.
“No shit.” He rolls his eyes, “What gave it away? The green robes or the blond hair?”
“The snarky attitude.” You instantly reply and he looks taken aback for a second, “Who are you anyway?”
If you’d thought he looked shocked before, you were wrong. “Excuse me?”
“Who are you? What was so confusing about that sentence?” You raise your eyebrows, “Clearly not a Ravenclaw.”
He scoffs at your remark but answers anyway, “I’m Draco? Draco Malfoy?” He asks, a pretentious tone lacing his voice. “We’ve shared this lesson together since you got here last year?”
“Stalker much?” You ask with a smile and he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, nice to meet you Draco, I’m Y/N.”
“I know.” He replies simply as he takes the hand that you’d outstretched. “Some of us pay attention.”
“Mhmm.”
“So what happened this morning?”
“What?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
“You were about to tell me about what happened this morning.”
“Oh.” You respond in embarrassment and watch as his smirk grows.
“What? Am I not worthy of your great story?”
“It’s not that, I just don’t think it’ll interest you.”
“Try me.”
“Right, what’s all this then?” Padma asks as she stops in front of the desk with a confused expression.
You giggle at her obvious confusion, “I accidentally sat here instead of by our normal spot. Do you know this miserable boy?”
“Better than I’d like to admit.” She responds sourly before turning a harsh gaze toward Draco, “Daddy’s boy.”
“Wench.” He responds and she rolls her eyes.
“Are you coming to sit with me?” Padma asks as she turns back to you and you shake your head.
“Maybe tomorrow, I’d like to sit here and annoy him today.”
“I cannot possibly stand in the way of that, you’re doing the whole grade a great service.” Padma replies with a laugh as she goes to sit a few desks away from you.
~~~
Day 1 - 1 Heart
Hearts.
Fragile things.
It’s the next Monday when you have Charms again, and you decide to sit by Draco’s desk in hopes of him coming to sit beside you.
“What on earth are you doing?” Draco asks as he peers over your shoulder before sitting in the chair beside you.
“Origami.” You respond with a smile and he raises an eyebrow toward you. “That thing where you fold pieces of paper into shapes?” You ask and he nods in understanding.
He takes his seat with a sigh, “Sounds boring.”
“Everything sounds boring to you.” You roll your eyes before finishing up the origami heart.
“True.”
You give it a once over and smile in satisfaction before turning to Draco and handing it out him. “Here.”
Hearts. Absurdly fragile things, Draco thinks as he feels his own heart begin to race. Here you are, nonchalantly handing him a piece of paper, and he feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself at the gesture. Y/N, giving me a heart.
He rolls his eyes and takes the object from you with a scowl, “Why are you giving this to me?”
You shrug, “You’re not completely intolerable, you’ve earned it.”
He smirks, “Careful, people might start to think that you like me.”
You smile, “Maybe I do.”
Your smile reminds him of butterflies- bright, fluttering, inviting, warm, beautiful.
He rolls his eyes and makes a big show of tossing the origami heart into a nearby bin, and you fight to hide the hurt hidden behind your eyes. But what you don’t know is that at the end of the Charms lesson, once everyone else has left, Draco goes into that very same bin and pulls out the heart.
Day 20 - 20 Hearts
“Are you still doing this?” He asks in annoyance as you hand him another origami heart, the same way you have, every morning, for the last twenty days.
“Yup. I’ve got no reason to stop.” You shrug with a small smile.
“How about the fact that I think they’re stupid and I don’t like them?”
“You’re under the misconception that I care about your feelings.”
He chuckles and brings his face down to yours till you’re inches apart. “I think you care a lot more about my feelings than you’d like to admit.”
You swallow and look away from him, trying to avoid the warm feeling that’s creeping up your neck and settling into your skin. “You wish blondie.”
“Mhmm.” He replies absent-mindedly as he turns into the classroom, drops the heart into the nearest bin, and sits in his seat.
You try to look unbothered as you go to sit beside him, ignoring the disappointment that’s churning your insides.
Day 35 - 35 Hearts
You watch as Draco inspects the origami heart from the Slytherin table, hoping that he might open it this time.
“He’s going to break your heart, Y/N.” Padma whispers from her seat beside you in the Great Hall.
You shake your head and let your eyes drift away from the blond at the Slytherin table. “He wouldn’t do that, he’s a lot better than you think he is.”
“Y/N, I’ve known him a lot longer than you have and I know that this isn’t going to end well.”
“And why not?” You ask defensively.
Because you’re a muggle-born, Padma wants to say, but she knows that it isn’t her place to crush your dreams so harshly. She shakes her head instead and smiles sympathetically, “Nevermind, I’m sorry for overstepping.”
You don’t notice, too busy talking to Padma, that Draco tucks the little piece of paper into his robe with a small smile.
Day 50 - 50 Hearts
You don’t exactly know when you caught feelings for Draco, it’s like all the small moments just bunched up together, but you know that it wasn’t your intention. The hearts, the sitting together in charms, it had all just started as friendly gestures in an attempt to get the scowling boy to befriend you, but somewhere along the line things just got too messy.
And now, you’re utterly infatuated with him.
You take a deep breath as you pull out the small box from your bag containing Draco’s Christmas present. The train comes to a half at platform 9 and 3/4, and you quickly grab your belongings before rushing out of the train in order to catch the blond before he goes home for the holidays.
You catch him by the door and you smile at him. “I’ve got something for you.”
“Another paper heart?” He raises his eyebrows with a smirk and you shake your head.
“No, it’s something else actually.” You hand the box to him, wrapped in a mix of dark green and navy blue paper, and he accepts it with a skeptical glance.
“What is it?”
“A Christmas present.” You laugh and he nods sheepishly in acknowledgement.
“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck, “I didn’t get you anything…”
“I didn’t want anything.” You smile again, “That’s not why I got you a gift.”
You watch as he nods again and looks out the window. “Then why did you get me the gift?”
“Cause we’re friends.” You shrug and he swallows.
If he were any other person then the erupting butterflies in his stomach would be an obvious sign to pull you closer and hug you till both your arms hurt. If you weren’t a muggle-born witch, and his parents weren’t watching him intently from outside the train, then this would be the moment that he seized to let your friendship blossom into more.
“We’re not friends.” He spits out coldly, and you’re taken aback by the sudden harsh tone.
“Okay…” You reply quietly, “Acquaintances?”
“For fuck sake…” He mumbles with a sigh, “Y/N, I don’t like you, at all. You’re annoying, you’re pushy, and worst of all, you’re a mudblood.”
Harsh words, words that taste of venomous denial, are running out of his mouth before he can stop them. The look of astonishment and sadness on your face has regret dancing on his tastebuds like the taste of tar, and he struggles to push that feeling down.
“You don’t mean that…”
“I meant every word, and I can repeat it if that empty skull of yours didn’t catch it.”
You shake your head and look down at the ground, trying to blink away tears, and he nods as he turns to finally leave the train.
“Draco.” You choke out and he whips his head back angrily.
“What?”
“I forgot to give you this today.” You whisper as you hand him his origami heart and push your way past him toward the platform.
You feel sick, you feel sad, you feel disappointed. There’s a twisting and churning that’s going on in your stomach but it’s not like normal, it’s the opposite of what you’ve felt every time before.
It’s butterflies dying.
He watches you walk away as a lump forms in his throat.
Day 65 - 0 Hearts
Draco walks into charms half-expecting you to be sitting somewhere else, and half-hoping that you’re sitting in your usual seat beside him. He didn’t open the Christmas present, too much guilt weighing him down, and he hopes that you don’t give him any more paper hearts.
He feels an odd combination of anguish and comfort when he sees that you haven’t moved, and goes to sit beside you in silence. You turn to him and smile but say nothing to him, not then and not for the rest of the lesson. When you get up to leave he half-expects you to drop an origami heart on his books, and disappointment consumes when you don’t.
Day 75 - 0 Hearts
“Morning.” He mumbles as he finds a spot beside you, as usual.
“Morning.” You respond.
That’s all the conversation that you two have now. A part of you misses the way the two of you had been before, easy-going, sarcastic, in-sync, but an even bigger part of you understands why that had to be over. He could never allow himself to love someone like you without resentful undertones of disgust and shame, and you could never settle for someone who doesn’t love you regardless of your blood purity.
“Y/N…” Someone whines from ahead and you look up from your desk to find Harry stood in front of you.
You laugh at his childish behaviour, “Yes Harry?”
“Please help me with this assignment?”
“No.” You respond bluntly, just to mess with him, and he pouts at you.
“Please?” You shake your head, “Please?” You shake your head again and he pouts at you hopelessly, “Pleaseeee?” He begs once more and drags out his plea.
You laugh once again and nod, “Okay fine.”
“Thank you so much!” He exclaims excitedly and leans over the desk to hug you. You shake your head and giggle in his arms, and Draco has to look away to ignore the looming feeling of jealousy consuming him.
Day 103 - 1 Heart
“So, I know that we’re not friends or anything…” You start as you turn to Draco, “But Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and I can’t resist the urge to give you one more.”
He furrows his eyebrows in confusion but feels realisation wash over him as you hand him an origami heart, one that’s bigger than all the rest you’ve given him in the past. He nods and takes it from you, trying to pretend as though his heart isn’t swelling at the gesture. “Thank you.” He responds curtly before the two of you revert back to silence.
It’s only when he’s alone in his dorm room that night that he actually looks at the origami heart. It’s red, and you’ve written his name across it in cursive. He runs his fingers along it and allows himself to unfurl it, feeling shocked to find words written inside it.
I know you never read these, so I’m probably wasting my time, but I wanted to say that I miss you.
Ridiculous right? I even feel stupid writing it. But it’s the truth, I do. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss the way you would scribble nonsense in my book to distract me from the lesson, and I miss the way you’d get so frustrated when I did the same. I miss the way you’d make fun of me for being a nerd, and try not to look proud when you outdid me in tests.
I miss your jokes too, even though they weren’t really funny, and the way you’d always forget your textbook so we were forced to share and we had an excuse to talk. I miss you a bunch, even though I know that you don’t miss me nearly as much.
Happy Valentine’s Day pretty boy,
I wish you could’ve loved me the way that I love you.
He quickly jumps off his bed and walks toward his trunk. He pulls out the Christmas gift that he never opened and another small box that he’d used to store all of your origami hearts, and begins to go through them all.
Note 1 - You’re weird but I like you. Very defensive, I hope that I can knock down those barriers. Note 2 - Your hair looked really nice today, made you look like a famous movie star who pays people to do it for him. Do you secretly have a hairdresser in your room? Note 3 - Your eyes are a strange colour, a cross between blue and grey, it reminds me of the sky before a really pretty rainstorm.
He opens every heart, from the first to the last, processing every last compliment that you’d ever written. With every word he reads, he feels a mixture of love and guilt wash over him simultaneously. Love for you- because you’re kind, and funny, and beautiful, and way too good for him- and guilt- for treating you so horribly because he was scared, when all he had wanted to do was kiss you, and hold your hand.
9 - I’m oddly very proud of you for beating me in the latest Charms assignment, you might actually be the bigger nerd between us both. 20 - I know you hate that I call you pretty boy but that’s what you are, you’re unnecessarily pretty! 26 - You’re very funny when you’re not trying to be. Your jokes are horrendous, but your impersonations and quips can be quite amusing. 35 - I’m starting to think that you don’t read these. No, I’m sure that you’re not reading these. Doesn’t matter though, there’s so many things that I love about you and I think I’ll explode if I don’t put them down somewhere. 47 - I’ve fallen very hard for you, it might be your dumb laugh or the way you tickle me whenever you walk into class, but I didn’t know that you could feel this much for a person. Damn you pretty boy. 50 - Padma thinks you’re no good for me, I agree, but I don’t care. I love you too much to give you up.
The last of the collection is the Christmas gift that you gave him. He’d refrained from opening it out of shame, feeling unworthy of a gift from you after being so cold to you that day on the train. He unwraps it and finds another paper heart, with a silver engraved ring above it. The words, ‘pretty boy’ are inscribed into the ring and he smiles at the sight, a few tears sliding down his face.
Pretty boys like you deserve a little more than paper hearts, I hope you like it.
He slips the ring on before getting off his bed, walking to his desk, and pulling out a piece of paper.
Day 104 - 1 Heart.
It’s Valentine’s Day and his palms are sweaty, for the first time in his life Draco has sweaty palms because of a girl.
You’re in your usual seat and you’re folding another piece of paper. His heart soars at the sight of you so focused, that goofy smile you always have whenever something demands a lot of your attention, and your hands working delicately against the edges of the paper. He stops in front of you.
He clears his throat and you look up at him, startled by the sudden interruption. “Oh, Draco, morning.” You respond with a small smile, obviously still apprehensive about him.
“Happy Valentine’s Day Y/N.” He smiles back and slides an origami heart onto the desk, beside the butterfly that you seem to have been folding.
“What’s this?” You ask in confusion as you pick it up and inspect it.
“You’ve made enough to be able to tell by now.” He deadpans and you laugh softly with a nod.
“It’s a paper heart.” You smile up at him, “Did you make this for me?”
“Maybe.” He responds curtly as he slides into his chair beside you, but you catch the shy smile he’s harboring.
“Thank you.” He nods, “I could’ve done better though.”
He scoffs, “That’s not a fair comparison.”
“And why not?” You raise your eyebrows and he chuckles as he rolls his eyes.
“Read the note inside and you’ll know why.”
“There’s a note inside?” You exclaim excitedly as you start to unfold the heart and he yanks it out of your hands.
“No! Read it later when I’m, like, far away from you.” He says defensively and you furrow your eyebrows but nod in agreement.
“Alright, I’ll read it after school.” You take it back from him and put it in your robe. You resume folding the butterfly and smile when you see that it’s done.
Draco watches intently as you finish it, expecting you to hand it to him once it’s finished, and furrows his eyebrows in confusion when you set it down and scan the classroom.
“Harry!” You exclaim as you watch him walk from the door and toward you with a bright smile.
“Y/N.” He responds once he’s standing in front of you. “Is this for me?” He asks once he sees the butterfly on your desk, and Draco is about to scoff at the question but you nod your head eagerly.
“Of course!” You pick it up and give it to Harry, watching excitedly as he opens it up and reads the note inside.
Draco watches in silent envy as Harry laughs, at whatever you’ve written in the note, and brings his lips down to your forehead. “Thank you so much butterfly, I love it.”
You smile proudly and your eyes light up as you watch Harry cast a charm to make the butterfly flap it’s wings and fly down to his desk. “When are you going to teach me that? I’ve been asking for weeks now!”
“If I taught you then I wouldn’t have anything to impress you with.” He smirks as he leaves to his desk and you shake your head with a laugh.
“You two seem to be quite friendly now…” Draco mumbles, trying to hide the jealousy in his voice. The butterflies that had been erupting in his stomach earlier that morning being trampled to death by Harry.
“Yeah, we’ve been-“ You cut yourself off with a gasp as you catch a glimpse of the ring that you bought Draco, “You’re wearing it!”
He smiles at your excitement, thinking about how such simple expressions from you leave butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “Yes.” He chuckles and you smile.
“I thought you didn’t like it.” You respond softly and he feels his heart break.
“No, not at all. I just didn’t want other people getting jealous.”
He smiles at you and you feel that familiar bubbling in your stomach, like rosh bushes blooming at the sight of the sun, but you can’t exactly pinpoint the feeling.
Later that day when you’re sat beneath a tree and reading Draco’s letter, you know exactly what that feeling is.
~~~
Y/N.
Beautiful, funny, kind, observant, utterly perfect Y/N.
I’ve spent the last three hours trying to come up with a reason for you to forgive me, I couldn’t come up with one. I also tried to find an excuse, any really, that could justify my horrid actions over the last few weeks, and I couldn’t find one. So instead, I settled on just telling you the truth.
I’m a coward.
You’re probably laughing right now and thinking, “He’s only realising this now?”, and the answer is yes. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but you’re the brighter one between us two. It took me 103 more days than you, to realise what you knew the first day you made me a paper heart; the two of us are meant to be.
That sounds a bit cheesy doesn’t it? Doesn’t matter anyway, because in note 12 you said that you enjoy my cheesy anecdotes. I’m not sure why though, I’m not particularly sure why you love anything about me when you’re you, but I guess some mysteries can never be solved.
I’m sorry for those words I said that day on the train, I didn’t mean them. I was scared of what my parents would think if I fell for a muggle-born witch, but I forgot one important thing; it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the fact that I’ve never been as happy as when I’m with you. If I could spend the rest of my life getting these perfect little paper hearts from you, listening to your sweet laugh, bothering you when you’re trying to get work done and buying you rings that match the ones on my hands, then I’d be over the moon.
I’m sorry for taking so long to tell you this; I love you Y/N. I know that I haven’t earned a second chance but if by some miracle you decide to grant me one then I promise to make it worth your while.
I would pick the stars out of the sky for you Y/N, if only you asked me to.
Happy Valentine’s Day from your pretty boy.
You look up from the letter and wipe the tears that had managed to escape, before getting off the grass and running back into the castle. When you find Draco eating dinner in the Great Hall, and see him flash you a shy smile, you instantly know what that feeling from earlier was.
It was butterflies reviving.
~~~
get added to my taglist <33
taglist : @purpleskymalfoy, @astoria-malfcy, @dreaming-about-fanfictions, @dracoscene
~~~
I’m pretty sure I completely deviated from what you wanted, I’m so sorry if it’s not satisfactory :( It’s so cheesy and I feel like I messed it up at a few points but either way I liked writing it, it made me very happy to finally write some Draco fluff again.
anyway, love you all,
jean <3
#draco#draco malfoy#draco x y/n#draco imagine#draco fanfiction#draco fluff#draco angst#draco malfoy angst#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy fanfiction#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagine
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Omg wait ok but that ask about trying to break away from Andy in Cruel World 🥺🥺🥺 I’m cry like you’re so right he wouldn’t get mad at you or be mean he just distances himself like you said just waiting for you to understand that you’ve disappointed and upset him 🥺 like I would cry seeing him so hurt by my disobedience and foolishness to think I could or should even try and leave, he knows best, he’s always done what’s best for us right. Ahh for real I just love your Cruel World story sO much it’s such a favorite, I wonder how he would reconcile that once you realize your mistake
yes exactly!! ahh thank you so so so much darling!! oh this means the world to me im so glad you enjoyed cruel world!! 🥹🥹🥺🥺🥰🥰💖💖💞💓😘💘💗
(told in andy’s pov? ish? same narrating style as cruel world so like gaslighting also smut mention but just lots of angst and darkness and manipulation and kidnapping mention but it’s like dubcon?)
he’d be so quiet and he’d build up walls around him afterwards, and he’d wait until you really realize what you’ve done.
you trying to leave is just the worst insult ever. he’s opened up about his loneliness in the past, and when you remember how much he hated it, you know you’ve messed up terribly. he’s never had a proper friend or reliable people in his life. he’s full of trust issues gut also love—love meant for you.
trying to run from him is no way to thank him, and you acknowledge that. andy makes sure of it with his deep frowns and longing stares from his disappointment.
he’s only ever been kind to you—he’s accepted you for who you are and does things that nobody else ever has or ever will do.
making it up to him is a hard challenge, but at least he’s allowing you to possibly be forgiven. that’s another reason why you should be feeling more terrible than you already do and why you should be worshipping him for the god-like man he is. he’s so kind to you!
and he forgives you at the end because you’re all he has—and for the rest of your life with him, you try to make it up to him. you try to show your gratitude as best as you can.
(and he doesn’t believe you—unless you let him use any of your holes).
when you really reconcile with him—it’s almost bittersweet. he’s back to being that rare romantic man you can’t find in anyone else (so you should treasure him, okay?), and he’s showering you with love as always! but there’s that nagging guilt in the pit of your stomach that makes you feel so yucky.
andy usually takes care of it, but he can’t this time.
you burst into tears one night and he holds you even tighter than usual. he tells you that he forgives you and that everything is okay, and you finally believe him because he kisses you nicely and does that thing where he calls you ‘my darlin’’ and rocks you back and forth until you’re sleeping. really sleeping.
the next day, you wake up in a home that isn’t yours and a ring on your hand that you can’t get rid of. but it’s okat, because all’s forgiven and you’ll never leave him ever again.
he’s always going to find you in this cruel, cruel world.
#honeychicana#sabs amalia#sab loves amalia#sabs cruel world#sabs concepts#dark!andy barber x reader#andy barber x reader#chris evans
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No i In Team
Summary: Having been dumped, you find yourself standing in the mud and rain as a bootcamp instructor yells at you. Finally you snap, telling him your mind before storming off. Later when he appears at your room to see if you are ok, he makes sure you are fully over your ex, proving that some men are a lot better than others.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader (no race or body type mentioned) Fandom; Henry Cavill, Sand Castle - Movie
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough sex, vaginal sex, doggy style, cowgirl, inappropriate use of a mini sombrero.
I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You will then get an alert every time i post something.
My masterlist got too large for tumblr, so now you can check out my AO3 on THIS LINK to find my previous stories.
No I In Team
This was it. This was the worst decision you had ever made. In fact, the worst collection of the worst decisions. Ever. In the history of decision making.
The rain continued to pour. Any sane person would not be standing in the middle of an assault course in this weather. They certainly wouldn’t be joining in on a ‘team building get-away’ when you had in fact already quit the company and it just finished your notice period. And they really wouldn’t have come when their ex was parading his new girlfriend around and they were on the same team as you.
Okay, so the last bit wasn’t in your control; your ex had in fact dumped you - via text - whilst you were in the cab there. Which honestly was a bit of a surprise seeing as you were meant to be sharing a room, and you had splashed out on one of the luxury rooms in the hotel where the corporate events were held at. He was a little surprised - which proved how much of a dumbass he really was - when you refused to let him and his new girlfriend take your room, and you stay in the smaller and cheaper one she had paid for. It was simple, you had paid, they could fuck off.
The other girlfriend, now that was a surprise. You didn’t want to hate her, she seemed very sweet but there were definitely a few sandwiches short of a picnic going on with her. Your weasel of an ex had cited a number of reasons for the break up, all laying blame on you, but really you had known it was coming and were quite relieved in a way… he was now someone else's problem.
However, because of being blindsided by the break up, you had continued on autopilot and now found yourself soaked to your skin, and the enormous brute that ran the bootcamp was doing his best to yell at every single person to ‘encourage’ them. Jesus christ you weren’t built for climbing up ropes and flinging yourself over 10ft walls, and with each passing obstacle you were falling further and further behind.
“COME ON! GET YOUR SORRY ASS OVER THAT ROPE NET!”
Rolling your eyes you let out a huff and slid-ran through the three inch deep mud, starting to climb the net that led up to a rope ladder you were expected to climb across as it was suspended over a pool of muddy water. You looked into the distance, your ‘team mates’ having well and truly left you behind, and as you reached the bottom of the net you looked up at it, taking in how muddy and slippery it was where 11 other people had already climbed up it;
“ARE YOU AFRAID OF A NET? PULL YOURSELF UP AND STOP FUCKING AROUND IN THE MUD”
The ‘Captain’ yelled at you from six feet away. Jesus you were fed up with him. The guy looked like he lived, breathed, and slept military. At the start of the course he had introduced himself as Captain Syverson, but everyone was to refer to him as Captain. His fatigues and t-shirt were plastered to his skin, his beard soggy as puffs of steam came from his mouth as he continued to yell at you.
You turned to him, watching as he took a single stride and was just a foot from you, taking a deep breath to yell again before you pushed your hand up and pressed a single finger to his mouth;
“No”
He stopped, unable to hide his surprise as his eyebrows shot up before you pulled your finger away.
“Get your ass up that net, NOW!”
Crossing your arms you repeated yourself;
“No. I will not”
“THERE IS NO I IN TEAM!”
“No. There isn’t. But there is an i in Vibrator”
“W-what?”
“Vibrator. Dildo too. And i quit”
“You can’t quit”
“Unless you are going to throw me over your shoulder and carry me across that net and ladder, i quit. I am going to go back to my expensive hotel room, stopping at the bar to buy a bottle of the hardest liquor they have, have a hot bath, and give myself something a man has never been able to”
“What’s that?”
“An orgasm”
You turned on your heel and started towards the hotel building in the distance, leaving the Captain speechless in the rain. When you were halfway across the lawns you could hear him yelling at the rest of the team, but you couldn’t give a fuck, you’d had enough.
-
The bath was amazing. You’d spent a good hour if not two in it letting the spa jets send streams of bubbles over your body, and had in fact given yourself the first of many orgasms you had planned for your evening. You had been disappointed when you’d discovered that the bar wouldn’t sell bottles of alcohol, but the bartender had quietly told you that if you ordered the corporate entertainment tray over room service they were obliged to send up a selection of miniatures with mixers and nibbles.
You were still standing in your towel when you heard a knock at the door, puzzled to be interrupted as you had the Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the handle. Approaching the peephole you looked through, surprised to see who was on the other side. Opening the door a few inches you looked out, and saw him leaning casually against the doorframe, now wearing dry clothes that accentuated how he was 101% muscle, from the kingfisher blue sweater that made his eyes even brighter, to the dark denim that clung to his muscled thighs, a smirk played across his face when he saw what you were wearing;
“Hi”
“Captain?”
He shifted and held out a bottle of Tequila;
“The bar doesn’t sell liquor by the bottle”
He motioned for you to take it, and as you did so you swung the door open a little more, seeing him look you up and down, his eyes growing a little darker as he licked his lips;
“I thought about what you said…”
“Which part”
“About what words the letter i are in” you didn’t realise but he had shifted a little closer, his toes now over the threshold of the room; “Cos’ i thought of another word that has the letter i in”
You cocked your head to the side, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, already gauging the reason his thickly muscled man was at your hotel room door with a smile and alcohol;
“Dick has got an i in”
“You’re absolutely right” you pulled the cork from the bottle of Tequila, taking a sip and grinning at the captain as you fiddled with the little hat that hung from the neck of the bottle, taking a step back as he slowly crept further into the room. A flash of lightning from the bad weather outside illuminated the room, and yet the air between your bodies almost sparked from the energy you were giving off.
“But my favourite letter is U”
“Ok… i’m waiting for the punchline…”
“Because that’s in the word Tongue, and i would very much like my tongue to be in u”
Closing the gap between you, you pressed two fingertips to his chest, the soft blue sweater he now wore warm to the touch;
“That…” you paused, walking your fingers up his chest with each word: “Was the best pick up line i’ve ever heard, Captain”
Pushing the door shut behind him, his slid his hand into the split of your towel, his warm palm resting on your hip before pulling you flush with his chest;
“You can call me Sy”
-
He had lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, the towel trapped between your bodies but now unraveled as it dragged along the floor, your naked back and ass cooling in the air of the room, but soon warmed by two large hands as they roamed over your skin. His kiss was rough, his tongue licking into your mouth as his beard tickled your face.
You hadn’t even realised he’d gotten to the bed until he had pulled away and sat down, pulling you down with him so you were straddling his waist;
“Ride my face, let me give you what you need” he growled, his hands on your ass pushing you up his body.
You’d quickly scrambled to set the bottle onto the nightstand before straddling his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as his massive hands cupped your ass. He pulled you down until you were literally seated on his face, his thick beard brushing against your thighs and ass, his tongue burying itself between your slick folds, teasing you open.
Winding one hand through his short brown hair, the soft chocolate curls caressed your fingers as your other hand rested against the headboard of the bed to steady yourself, his eagerness already rapidly pushing you towards an orgasm, your body still buzzing from the one you’d given yourself in the bath.
“Oh fuck… Sy, Jesus Christ your tongue…”
You’d never met a man with a tongue so wide and juicy, the thick muscle pulsing within your cunt as his nose teased your clit, and soon you were shaking above him, attempting to push up on your legs from the intensity of it, only for his strong grip to tighten on your ass and pull you back down onto his face.
“Ride my tongue Darlin’” you heard his muffled voice, and as you looked down you saw his face was flushed but his eyes held nothing but mischief.
Tossing your head back you let yourself go, calling out his name as you unashamedly rode his tongue to an intense orgasm, flooding his face with your juices.
Limp and pliable, you felt him lifting you before setting you down on the bed, his lips finding your neck and shoulders as he pressed kisses to your skin. The storm raged outside the window, rain lashing against the glass and making you feel even more enclosed in as Sy’s body covered your own. Finally enough of your senses returned that you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a fierce kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. When he finally broke away from your lips he started to kiss down your body, only for you to tug at his soft blue sweater, wanting the knitwear gone;
“Okay ok Darlin’...”
“Want to see you… feel you…” you were lust drunk now, a fire in the pit of your belly where you wanted nothing more than this beast of a man to split you open and fuck you raw.
He let out a low belly laugh, pushing off you and standing, a grin on his face as he saw you watching him as he stripped for you.
With his sweater tossed aside, he toed his boots off as his hands made quick work of his jeans, revealing a pair of tight black boxer briefs that were obscenely bulging at the front. Clenching your thighs together did little to satisfy the arousal, and as he tucked his thumbs under the elastic of his underwear you bit your lip as he teased you, pulling the elastic down to reveal the thick bush of hair and a tantalizing peek at the thick root of his shaft. Inch by inch he lowered his underwear until they dropped to the floor, and your mouth was agape as you took his size in all his glory;
“Wow, you really do have the equipment for the BDE you give off...” He paused and looked at you, cocking an eyebrow as you started to explain; “It means big…”
“I know what it means” he smirked, hooking his finger at you and watching as you crawled over the bed until your face was level with his rapidly hardening dick; “Why don’t you show me how good that mouth of yours is?”
Wrapping your hands around his hot flesh you could feel him growing harder and thicker under your touch, leaning your head forwards until you could take him into your mouth, tasting him on your tongue as he grunted above you;
“That’s it Darlin’, get me nice and wet, gonna have this buried in you sooner or later, the harder you get me the more dick you get inside you”
He rested his hand on the back of your head, guiding you to take him deeper but without being pushy about it. When his tip nudged at the back of your throat you fought back the feeling, looking up with watery eyes as his own bored into your soul as his dick tried to do the same to the back of your skull.
Holding you deep he finally with a gasp pulled himself out of your mouth with a string of curses, stroking your hair as you coughed and sucked in precious oxygen;
“Fuck, that mouth of yours is a thing of wonder Darlin’... but i want to get into that sweet cunt of yours… how do you need it?”
“N-need it?”
He gently pushed you onto your back, crawling over you until he was poised and ready to go;
“Yeah, need it. You’ve just broken up with some limp dick, how do you need me to fuck you?”
“W-what are the options?”
“You want slow and gentle, or you want me to fuck you like a beast and toss you around like a rag-doll”
“Beast mode please”
With a low growl he grinned as he surged forward and caught your lips with his own, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth as he took complete control. You felt him gripping his dick as he swiped it through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your wetness before he pulled away and grasped you by the hips as he knelt on the bed, pulling you up his thighs before thrusting his fat girth into you with one swift movement.
“HOLY FUCK!”
“That’s it Darlin, take my dick all the way. I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget about anyone else that has ever disappointed you”
Gritting his teeth he moved your body like you were a rag-doll, pulling you onto his hardness as you could do little but to go limp and let your mind get flooded by the pleasure he was giving your body thanks to the best sex you’d ever had. Gripping at the sheets you felt an orgasm start to building within you;
“Sy… keep doing that… i’m gonna cum…”
With a smile and a grunt he did exactly as you asked, keeping his pace fast and steady as you lost control around him, your back arching as your legs shook and you came hard. You were trembling from the force of the aftershocks as he slowed down and finally stilled, letting you relax onto the duvet as he covered your body with his, pressing openmouthed kisses to your chest, murmuring against the soft flesh;
“These titties are spectacular”
He moved a little and you felt that he was still hard, a smirk back on his face;
“Oh i’m not done yet Darlin’, that was just an intermission”
He pulled out of you and you found yourself being flipped over, your ass pulled up as he filled you from behind this time, his thickness splitting your walls open and his massive hands found their way to your breasts, pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers as he pile drove into you from behind;
“Feel so fucking good Darlin, love the way your cunt feels around my dick, wanna feel you cum again before i shoot my load in ya’, then you can have a breather before round two”
Your eyes went wide; this was still only round one? Fuck, Sy was an utter beast and as he tilted his hips and his dick hit just the right spot, your eyes rolled back in their sockets and your jaw hung open, the pleasure running through your veins turning your brain to jelly and all you could comprehend was Sy fucking the living daylights out of you.
Starting to tremble, your sighs became squeaks which became screams of his name as you started to cum and it kept going, your body squeezing him tighter than a vice before he finally came with a beastly roar, shooting ropes of his creamy seed and coating velvet walls.
The pair of you slumped down onto the bed, your bodies still joined as he pressed kisses to the back of your neck. Finally he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss of his warmth and weight on top of you, instinctively rolling and curling up against his side as you rested your head on his chest, the song of his heartbeat strong and steady beneath your ear;
“Fuck… that was amazing”
He gently stroked one hand over your back;
“You can say that again Darlin’. Your pussy is like heaven… never had a cunt grip me so tight and be able to take me balls deep before...”
You smiled and let your eyes rest for a moment, before you felt him shift and the sound of a cork being pulled from a bottle disturbed your post orgasmic bliss. Looking up you saw him oof the cork out of his mouth before bringing the bottle of tequila to his lips and taking a large mouthful. Holding the bottle to you he grinned as you sat up and took it, following suit and still wincing at the burn as the expensive liquid slid down your throat.
Just at that moment there was a massive crack of thunder outside and an immediate flash of light, before the electricity fizzled out, plunging you into darkness. You weren’t afraid of the dark but the suddenness of it made you squeal, Sy pulling you close;
“Shhh its ok Darlin’, this place gets its power knocked out all the time cos’ its up on the hill here. That’s why there’s candles in every room”
He deftly slid out of your grasp and you heard him fumbling around on the floor before he illuminated the room with his phone, and you watched as his silhouette made its way across the room and you heard the click of a lighter. Moments later the room had a pale glow from the candles that had sat on the side table, and as he carried one back to bed you saw that he was still hard;
“How are you…”
“Still up? Oh Darlin’ i can go eight or nine rounds before i droop”
“Eight or… nine…”
He flopped down onto the bed beside where you sat, his hands behind his head and a wide smile on his face;
“So, what do ya’ wanna do next?”
You laughed softly before taking another sip of tequila, toying with the little hat that was attached to it before a sudden urge overtook your senses. With a look of amusement on his face Sy watched as you took the hat from the bottle and softly tied it to his dick, the hat standing proud on his tip;
“A perfect fit” he remarked, but before either of you could say anything else a knock at the door interrupted you.
“Babe?” a quiet voice came from the other side of the door; “You in there?”
Your heart sank;
“Its my ex… I’m gonna go tell him to fuck off…”
Sy caught your arm gently, a grin on his face;
“Let me”
What happened next was something you could only have dreamt of, and as you pulled a pillow in front of you to hide your nakedness, Sy basked in his own naked glory as he strode to the door and pulled it open;
“Yes?”
Your ex stood in the hallway outside your room, his bags at his feet;
“What are you…?”
“I’m busy keeping my girl happy. What’re you doing here?”
“I got dumped…”
“Well champ, that sounds like a you problem…”
Without another word Sy stepped back and shut the door, making sure to flip the security lock extra hard so that your ex could hear it from the hallway. Striding back to the bed you couldn’t help but to laugh;
“I can’t believe you answered the door completely naked, hard, and with a mini sombrero on your dick!”
Climbing onto the bed he lay on his back, his hands behind his head as he grinned at you, wriggling his hips so his hard dick swayed to and fro with the hat still attached;
“Oh i think it made the moment all that more memorable Darlin’”
“He’ll certainly remember it, that’s for sure”
You carefully took the little adornment off of Sy, tossing it aside as you straddled his hips and grasped his hot shaft, helping to find your waiting entrance before sinking down onto him.
The feeling of taking him inch by inch was almost overwhelming; thick and gnarled, his fat dick stretched you in every direction, and you were thankful for the added lubrication of his cum already dripping out of you.
As you started to ride him you could feel your body already deceiving you and climbing towards a rapid orgasm, and you found yourself cupping your breasts and twisting your nipples to distract yourself and let it last just a little longer. However when Sy’s massive hands rested on your hips and he started to thrust up into you, it was the beginning of the end. The final straw was when he slid one hand to your front, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing quick circles firmly against the engorged bud did it send you over the edge and you were coming again, back arched and head thrown back as your bodies moved as one in the candlelight.
-
Sy fucked you until the storm cleared and the candles fizzled out, just the moonlight illuminating your room when you both crawled under the duvet and fell asleep, sweaty bodies cooling in the night, sated from your energetic lovemaking.
Come morning and you were woken up by a series of featherlight kisses to your naked back and shoulders. For the briefest moment panic set in, but then you remembered your bed companion from the night before;
“Mmm Mornin’ Darlin’” he drawled, his voice low and coarse from sleep.
Turning you smiled at him before his lips caught yours for a gentle kiss. What followed was the best oral you’d ever received, followed by a steamy session of shower sex where for the first time in your life you’d felt confident that your partner was strong enough to not let you slip and injure yourself.
The following room service breakfast had been thoroughly enjoyable where the two of you had talked and laughed, swapped numbers and both made it clear you’d like to see the other again. Sy had even driven you back to the train station, where you’d attracted the odd few stares as he’d kissed you with tongues and teeth before giving your ass a squeeze.
-
Two weeks later.
Sy fiddled with the zippered pocket on his fatigues as he waited nervously outside the meeting room at the corporate offices. After what had seemed like an amazing night with you, he’d arrived at work on Monday to discover one of his boot camp cadets had made a formal complaint about his ‘lewd behaviour’. He knew it wasn’t you, but it had distracted him from the string of text’s you’d shared in the following days. He was thankful that you’d told him not to apologise, having started your new job and that was full on from the word go.
The door to the meeting room opened and his name was called, standing he smoothed his shirt down and nodded before entering the room. This was probably the most nervous he’d been since leaving the army; at least there if you fucked up you got a court marshall, now he was a civilian if he lost his job it meant he couldn’t pay his bills.
-
You were attempting to get a file out of the huge stack that sat on your desk without knocking your coffee over when your office door opened and a friendly face peered around the corner;
“Hey, you ready for the disciplinary hearing?”
“The what?... Oh, right… let me find the file…”
“Did you read it?”
Shaking your head you grinned at the manager of offsite contractors;
“Don’t worry, i’ve skimmed it. You guys brought me in to sort through this mess my predecessor left behind, I just wasn’t expecting it to be this much of a mess…”
Grabbing your coffee and the file with that day's date on, you followed your colleague through the building, attempting to scan over the complaint, frowning when you saw that the printer been running out of toner and had omitted the two parties names. Nevermind, you could always write those in.
Chewing on your pen as you shut the meeting room door, you quickly took a seat at the end of the table, looking up and only then your eyes going wide. On one side sat your ex, and someone that looked like a low rate lawyer judging by the cheap suit and even cheaper briefcase. On the other side sat Sy - Captain Syverson - whose eyes were as big as saucers and you saw the slightest hint of a smile start to tug at the corner of his mouth before he restored his poker face.
The manager introduced himself and then you;
“This is our new Human Resources manager, she’ll be overseeing this meeting”
Taking one last look at your report you took a sip of your drink before standing, keeping your face neutral;
“So, your client alleges that our employee acted in a lewd manner whilst on a team building exercise two weeks ago?”
“That is right Miss, you see…”
“And that your client wishes to pursue a lawsuit based on ‘emotional distress’ and that our employee caused the breakdown of his relationship”
“Yes Miss, Its like this you see…”
Cutting the lawyer off again, you looked pointedly at your ex;
“So, did you or did you not actually end the relationship with your partner, before even meeting Captain Syverson? Actually there’s no need to answer, i have a transcript of the text messages here…” you looked down at your your file, although you knew the texts by heart; “And i quote “I’ve found someone new, someone prettier than you, she’s better in bed too”
You looked up at your ex who was now sinking down into his chair;
“And by lewd behaviour, did you or did you not approach your ex’s bedroom at the hotel in the middle of the night, and continue to knock on her bedroom door whilst there was a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door?”
The lawyer attempted to talk, but yet again you cut him off;
“So therefore, you had no emotional or romantic relationship with the person whose room it was, and therefore as fully consenting adults, our employee and your ex, were perfectly within their rights to start a romantic relationship, were they not?” you took a deep breath; “And, as you have a history of making civil lawsuits against companies that you have deemed you ‘wrong’, this frivolous attempt at extortion has now been recorded, and will be submitted to the authorities”
You lifted your phone before setting it back down onto the table. You hadn’t been recording, but it was enough for your ex’s lawyer to stand and leave the room quickly, your ex scurrying close behind. Leaning to the manager you cleared your throat;
“You might want to make sure security escorts them completely offsite”
“Absolutely. Can i leave you debrief Syverson?”
“Leave it with me”
You shut the door behind him as he left, and felt the warmth of Sy’s body behind you;
“This is a very unexpected, but oh so pleasant surprise”
Turning in his arms you were thankful that there were no internal windows to this meeting room, kissing him deeply before the giant bear of a man pulled away and smiled softly at you;
“I need to buy you dinner for what you did… you’re fucking badass”
“How did you not know what the meeting was about?”
“They just told me it was ‘lewd behaviour’. I’d been wracking my mind for the last week to figure out what i may have said or done… yeah i yell at people for a living, but i’m never lewd…”
Placing your palm on his cheek you smiled at him;
“Dinner sounds good by the way”
“Come over to my place tonight, i’ll cook you dinner”
“Will there be dessert?”
Sy licked his lips, his gaze travelling down your body and back up again;
“There definitely will be for me… i’m sure i’ve got some cookies you can have too Darlin”
#captain syverson#captain syverson x reader#captain syverson fanfiction#captain syverson smut#henry cavill
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Hope
❧ AU: x Taehyung || Friends to Lovers (Lowkey slow-burn)
You felt distressed, caught up in your own emotions and confused by your over-thought thoughts. Going through a rough patch as some would say, where everything felt hopeless and you found yourself scrolling pinterest till 1am looking for "angsty" core aesthetics to fit your new "vibe" of life. But it was easier said than done to dig yourself a hole when your best friend constantly stood by filling the hole back up as you dug in an attempt to stop you, help you and make you feel better, despite having his own issue to deal with... his crush on you.
|| ANGST + SMUT | 11k | x reader | masterlist in bio ||
❧ Disclaimer: This is fiction. Actions and events in these stories are often exaggerated and to a certain degree unrealistic. Please have this in consideration when reading fiction, especially if it includes sexual content.
❧ Rating: EXPLICIT || sexual content, unprotected sex || Warnings: mention of feeling hopeless, "deep reflection", (reader is troubled by something going on in their life but it's open for interpretation/unspecified)
❧ Smut features: Vanilla, desperate, first time together, unprotected, reassuring/concent asking/'checking in' (is this ok? Does it feel good?) top!Tae and a power outage.
How do you know when you've reached the complete state of hopelessness? Do people ever become 100% hopeless? You inhaled deeply and sighed it out. Gaze to the white ceiling, back on the bed and legs up against the wall. The tingle in your feet from the lack of circulation made them look somewhat less alive and feel cold. With a tilt of the hips you allowed your legs to slowly fall to the side, forming a new pose in the shape of a 90 degree angle on the bed and allowing for the less zombie-ish color to return to your feet. Hopelessness. Feeling like there is no point yet still stubbornly aching in the inner crevice of the head with a wish for there to be a chance for something else. A change, a plot twist a sudden eureka to make the entire world loose it's zombie color pallet and become lively and vibrant again. Hope. Or a wish for hope. It's probably some basic programming, like survival instinct, hope instinct. But at this point you didn't want to believe. You wanted to be grumpy, upset, frustrated. To curse society and curse what isn't fair and curse all the norms and expectations around you regardless of who made them up! Curse the media, curse the mold for perfect and the lip filler ads, curse the restrictions planted by your own beliefs and curse the cause of said belief! But feeling frustrated and angry is hard. Not only is it exhausting but it's the hardest emotion to let out fully and feel satisfied by after. If anything anger and frustration feels like a self-fueling fire that keeps burning more and more until you get exhausted and slump down on the bed with your legs up the wall. Crying would've been easier. You sat up, feeling a brief spin in the head due to your advanced modelling poses and reached for your water bottle. Water, Zen, calm rivers, refreshment, sound of clucking water in the harbor... rain. You turned towards your bedroom window at the sudden raging pattering sound outside. Even the sky needed to cry today. You reached for your phone, having it be faced down for the past hour or so after giving up on ranting about your dilemma to your friend. You had two types of friends. Those who were there for you when convenient and those who were there for you regardless. Taehyung was one of them. 3 missed calls. 15 texts- make that 16. A sting of guilt washed through realizing he must've been worried sick the past hour. Too exhausted to use your vocal chords you opened the text chat. Taehyung was the definition personified of a caring person. Sometimes to the extent where you'd question if it was more than anyone deserved. Did the world deserve Taehyung? You didn't make it through the second text before your doorbell rang followed by a loud bang. It sounded urgent... You got up from bed and slipped your feet into your white fluffy slippers and made your way to the front door of your apartment. You unhooked the clasp and unlocked your door to see one of the rainstorm's victims dripping water onto your doormat. Taehyung, Dressed in a green raincoat and hair clinging to his forehead and temples. His chest was rising unnaturally with his attempts to regain his breathe. "Tae-" He stepped in, an arm wrapping around your side and the other pressing your head to his wet shoulder. "If you didn't make me so worried... I would've removed my raincoat before hugging you." He squeezed. "See this as my revenge." His heart was beating fast. He pulled back after a few seconds, breathing stable and his red hands reaching to unbutton his raincoat. Did he not wear gloves? He pulled the door shut behind him and gently kicked off his boots. Apparently not. "I'll... go hang your raincoat in the bathroom for it to dry" you said, taking it from him. He was quick to address the elephant. "Why didn't you reply to my texts?" He followed behind you. "I... I left my phone to charge and I got distracted..." you made up, hanging his raincoat up in the shower. "I didn't come here to scold you, but when you tell me you're feeling hopeless, you get that it makes me worried right?" His voice was gentle and he looked at you with concerned eyes, stood in the door to the bathroom. Actually.... you didn't. Why would anyone worry... everyone seemed to always take it as nihilistic comedy or something and swat it away with something along the lines of "you’re just hungry" or the classic "are you on your period?" Maybe you were or maybe you weren't but why would that matter? Just thinking about it made you feel annoyed. As if any deep emotion only was caused by a period, it's just a period, why would anyone, let alone someone with a period themselves ask someone else that in a way that minimizes the reason they feel upset or angry or whatever emot- "Hey?" Taehyung pulled you back out from inside your head. "I don't know..." He crossed his arms over his chest and you knew that look far too well. "We'll talk about it, but right now, I'm here to make it better and take care of you. Did you eat?" You shook your head. "Great! Because I stopped by at the shop on my way... before the rain attacked me and picked up some stuff, including~" he said with an eager tone and walked towards the grocery bag you hadn’t noticed until now. He picked it up and dug his hand in for something. "Du du du du" he sang dramatically and slowly pulled out the familiar dark blue packaging. The love of your life, the source of all things good. Chocolate. The good one! Not the weird orange wrapping one you hated, but the blue one, the holy blue one, your favorite one. "I remember your frustration when you saw the empty shelf of horror last week and it was restocked today so i picked up three just in case." "THREE?!" "Mhm!" He nodded proudly. You could cry, finally, but for other reasons. "TaeTae you're the best." You walked towards him, hugging him tight. He was the bestest of the best, the hero, the savior, chocolate delivery man. Oh what would life be without him. A blush spread across his cheeks. "You did it again." He said shyly "Hm? Did what?" "You called me TaeTae." "You don't like it?" "... I do." -- Taehyung had you stationed at the kitchen table while he cooked. With a focused gaze he scrolled on his phone, reading the next step for the recipe while stirring the pot. You were pretty sure he knew this recipe by heart now, he'd cooked it for you before and he should be confident in it but seemingly not enough yet to put the recipe down. The kitchen smelt amazing and you could feel your hunger cry out for whatever was simmering in the pot. Taehyung gently tapped the wooden spoon against the pot as he added another ingredient. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" He asked. That's where you'd left him hanging in your texts when exhaustion took over... "I just..." "Is it /that/ thing?" Taehyung asked, very much knowing of your source for distress already. "Kinda... but this time it feels different... I’m not nervous or eager, I just felt like I was waiting and waiting and what if I waited so long for nothing and I.... it doesn’t make sense but I just feel numb at this point and like I'm losing hope. Like every odd is set against me and I'm the only one dumb enough to still bet on myself." "And me. Except I'm not dumb, nor are you and I'll always bet on you. Always." Oh Taehyung... "Well, as your personal doctor and advisor and therapist and nurse, care-taker, comfort teddy and so on, I am going to prescribe you with some stuff." You chuckled. "Please go ahead." He placed a plate in front of you and another on the opposite end of the table. "Firstly, a good healing meal." "And you’ve already done everything in your power right now, you’ve been working hard. Maybetoohard." He mumbled under his breathe followed by a fake cough. "That said, let me distract you." "How?" "Well, some old school friends wanted to go out clubbing this weekend and-" "You don't like clubbing." "Hold on, let me get to the point. My suggestion is that you can come too, it won’t only be them. There will be the general club people too of course and I think most of them were bringing other friends or their girlfriends too so... it might be fun? If it sucks, we'll ditch and go to the midnight bowling place or noraebang, yes?" Maybe having some social interaction, an excuse to dress up and good music wasn't such a bad idea? The only thing bugging you was the potential mess there could be... and lately with your stressed mind you hadn't been the best at handling those environments, but after all this was just a club, with dancing people... it couldn't be that bad right? Bowling did sound fun too though... But you knew distraction and fun was what you probably needed. Maybe it wouldn't solve the issues but maybe it'd make it weigh less. The small distractions did a lot, a big one should do even more. "Sure." "Really?!" You could've sworn you just witnessed his ears wiggle from excitement. "I'll come." -- When Taehyung said "clubbing" you expected big flashy neon signs, a red rope and a guard and pulsing music coming from inside... not a giant base, a sax and a set-up of almost 4 different types of synthesizers. A jazz club. You should've known. The band was some sort of electro jazz fusion sprinkled with funk type band, as they introduced themselves as and they weren't bad, not at all. In fact this was a lot cozier than an uncomfortable packed nightclub. You just wish Taehyung told you so you could've worn your comfy flowy favorite dress rather than your tight little black one, wanting to fit in with the scene... Taehyung was dressed in black slacks, a green sweater and a brown coat that was hung over his chair, paired with his trademark assortment of bracelets on his wrist. Including the one you gave him for his birthday two years ago. He never took it off since the day he got it. It made you smile seeing it on his wrist. Taehyung's old school friends, the few you had managed to great during the evening were all really nice and most of them had their arm either around another or a hand held by another. You couldn't help but feel a little awkward, the questioning looks that didn't need to be vocal for you to understand. "Is this your girlfriend?" Taehyung just smiled, maybe playing it off was best... or did he just not notice the silent question? At first you expected a shrug or something but nope... "Would you like something more to drink?" Taehyung asked, leaning in so you'd hear him over the music and pointing towards your nearly empty glass. "I think I'm alright." "What?" "I'm ok." You leaned in closer. "Do you want to dance?" You and Taehyung were seated alone at one of the many tables as the majority were occupied dancing to the beats of the band and the rest drinking at other tables or mingling around. You had been up there at least twice, maybe even three times dancing the best you could and Taehyung always being by your side but your brain was starting to get a little drowsy. "I think I'm going to call it a night. But you can stay if you want." "No no, if you want to go home I'll come with you, let me walk you home." "I'll take a taxi its ok" "I insist." "So do I" the few drink he had had were enough to make his words braver and bolder. "It's late, I don't want you to go back alone regardless of if you take a taxi. I'll walk you." Fine. "Ok" Taehyung swept the remainder of his wine and grabbed his coat and waved some quick goodbyes. It was cold outside. Dark and empty... maybe it was good Taehyung insisted after all. He stumbled slightly, alarming you. Your hands instinctively reached for him and he giggled. "You only had two glasses I doubt you're drunk right now." "Maybe I wiwwle tipdie" he giggled, clearly acting up. "Does wiwwle tipdie Taehyung need help? Should I carry you on my back?" "No! I should be carrying you, do you have a blister on your heal from your shoes? Sore feet? Sore legs? Anything I can use as an excuse?" You laughed, patting him gently on the back. A cold breeze travelled through the street and you pulled your jacket tighter around you. "You're cold?" Taehyung asked "A little... my choice of dress wasn't the best." "I think you look beautiful." The sudden compliment caught you off guard. "... thanks." "Thanks? For what?" "The compliment" "I'm simply stating the facts." He said, looking to the side and slipping his hands into his pockets. "It sure is cold..." Why was it feeling awkward suddenly? Silence between the two of you would usually be comfortable... "Thanks for bringing me too." "Did you have fun?" He turned to face you again. "Yes, it was better than I expected." "I'm glad to hear that." "But let’s go bowling next time." "Sure!" He smiled widely. A source of warmth suddenly surrounded you and you looked up to see Taehyung's face turned away yet again but his arm resting around your shoulder, wrapping his coat around you and urging you closer into his side till your hips almost brushed against each other. The rest of the walk back home was a few minutes of silence, but luckily you didn't live far. "Home sweet home" "How will you get home?" You asked, concerned. "Ah..." he checked the time on his phone. "Well I've missed the last train... so unless I can find a taxi which so far I've seen none I'll have to sleep at the station." "No you're not, come, you can call a taxi from my place and at least wait inside instead of out in the cold." You said, grabbing his arm and pulling him with you through the entrance. "Nobody's picking up?" You asked Taehyung looked down at his phone with a confused look. "It keeps hanging up on me? I don't know if maybe their line is down or something?" "It would explain why we didn't see any on the walk back." "I guess so... so now what?" He looked up at you. "Guess you'll have to stay the night." He grinned. "Can't remember the last time we had a sleep-over" he chuckled and removed his coat. He was right, it must've been years ago... the last time you could remember was a movie night gone sleep over during winter when it had snowed so no traffic was able to move at all. You grabbed a spare cover and a pillow and handed it to Taehyung, sleepiness already present in his eyes. "Hey." Taehyung said, laying out the pillow and cover on your sofa. "If I have a nightmare can I come lay next to you?" He grinned. "If you have to." He replied with a puppy gaze. "Good night TaeTae." His eyes widened and he looked down at the couch. "... Good night." -- The question was when would you wake to the sound of birds chirping instead of the aggressive rasp of the snow plow dragging across the street? It almost sounded like it was more ir less plowing the asphalt off the earth rather than the snow. More irritating was that it just added to your unsatisfying sleep and rough awakening streak. One good morning was all you asked for... You sat up, slid off the edge of the bed and slipped into your slippers that were neatly set up by its side. A scratch of the head and an adjusting pull of the bun on your head and you headed to you first destination; tea. With heavy steps you dragged yourself out of your room and were met by the surprise you had forgotten was left on your couch from last night, sprawled across the sofa... in only boxers. Oh god. The covers were halfway on the floor, only covering his legs, barely. It was cold too but should you just ignore him... no, you couldn't... but what if you woke him up? He was only in boxers and you were already trying your best not to look but your brain had already registered that they were black and Calvins... please no more information... thigh muscles NO! Chest, focus on the chest. He was breathing, he was alive. Inhale, exhale. You carefully made your way towards him. His chest was toned... the type perfect to rest your head on NO! Messy hair... It really didn't help that your best friend was as attractive as he was. You bent down and carefully picked up the cover, pulling it back up over his upper body. He must've been really cold, his nipples- NO. You shook your head furiously to get rid of the thought. You turned around 180 degrees and marched to the kitchen. Tea. Tea. Tea. Tae. TEA! You could hear the covers rustle as he shifted, followed by a soft groan. Oh no... Please no. Although... why was it so dangerous for him to see you in your own home, making tea. I don't know! But regardless it felt like an action movie stealth scene for the grand heist judging by your heart beat. The boiler was too loud, the accidental clink of the mug as you set it to the counter too, the rip of packaging of the tea bag, the wind whistling outside! Sweat? You were sweating, stress consuming you yet again over the moist pointless little thi- "Hey?" The tea cup smashed against the kitchen floor along with your gasp and you grabbed the door handle of the kitchen cupboard for support. Taehyung starred at you with wide startled eyes. Maybe your screech scared him as much as his sudden presence scared you. "Sorry." He chuckled, voice so deep and raspy you could practically feel his vocal chords vibrate. Your heart was pounding hard. Could he at least have been swaddled in the covers and not in his boxers right now... You diverted your eyes to the porcelain shards across the floor. "Wait wait wait!" Taehyung yelped, holding his hand out to stop you from moving. But it was too late. The dark kitchen along with your giddiness had of course resulted in the unfortunate miss step. You sighed, lifting your foot from the chard as you felt something wet trickle down your foot. Taehyung quickly reached to turn the lights on, the bright shine blinding both of you briefly and making the view of him even clearer. "Stay there." Taehyung ordered. Your kitchen was pretty small so there wasn't much space to move without risking another wrong step. A cup of tea and now all this. You slapped your arms to your sides in a deep pout. Making a new cup now just felt wrong but you craved a cup so bad and it was cold... the floor was cold, you were cold... and not to mention everything hanging in form of heavy weights on your shoulders and chilling on top of the imaginary storm cloud above you right now. It's like your issues were mocking you and just making everything worse. Maybe the issue was that you related to the once-was intact mug. You felt split and unorganized, all over the place and dependent on things you knew you shouldn’t be depending your hope and happiness on but yet day after day you’d lose yourself in a visualization of a scenario of perfection were everything would be ok until again the door was slammed in your face and you had to start all over again. No matter how many times you felt like this time would be different and this time you were ready, this time it'd all go your way because the past was forgiven and your time wasn’t right but again and again .... Your patience was running out. You sniffed, wiping the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. Taehyung came back holding a broom and a dust pan when he saw your face of tears. "No..." he sounded panicked. He leaned down quickly sweeping the chards to the side of the kitchen and tossing the broom and pan into the pile so he could approach you. Strong lean arms embarrassed you like out of a 6 different angles k-drama scene. A hand found its place on the back of your head, softly petting you as the other pressed you closer to his warm chest. Never had you expected that hugging Taehyung would feel this safe. May it be because he was the one you could be truly vulnerable with or that he was the one that knew what was going on right now, but whatever he did... he did it just right. "You don't need to say anything." He whispered. "I know." He squeezed you a little firmer. "I know." He reassured. "Sssh" his hand felt so gentle as it caressed you. "It's going to be ok." He felt so warm. "I'm here." His skin felt so soft against your hands. "I'm not going anywhere." Your heart calmed down. Taehyung didn't pull away until you became silent and your breathing stable. But even then he didn't pull away completely, only enough to look at your face and caress his thumbs under each eye gently. "I'll reheat the water for you." He smiled softly and reached for the switch on the kettle. You didn't want to let go, not just yet. But he slipped away carefully and kneeled to sweep up the shards and discarded the pieces into the bin. He briefly disappeared and came back holding his sweater, arms slipped in and pulling it over his head as he entered, causing his shoulders to naturally flex slightly as he slipped it on. He grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, added a bag in each and filled them with the hot water. You tugged and fidgeted at your sleeve as you watched, feeling unusually shy in his presence. "Come, let’s sit on the sofa" Taehyung said and grabbed a mug in each hand but quickly came to a halt. "Your foot!" You had forgotten about it too. He placed the mugs back down and watched you as you lifted to check the cut. "Fuck." Taehyung said and quickly ripped a piece of kitchen towel off and handed it to you. Holding one hand against the fridge for support and the other wiping the smeared mess on your foot you watched as Taehyung quickly disappeared and reappeared again with your med kit. "Does it hurt?" He asked, rummaging through the kit. "No, it just stings a little." He pulled out some disinfectant solution and eyes you quickly up and down. Before you knew it he was stood in front of you, kneeling slightly as you felt his large hand grab a hold behind your thigh and his arm scooped you up on him. Your heart was back to its rapid pace again. He set you down on the sofa carefully and went back to grab the disinfectant and the tea mugs. He sat on the floor in front of you, soaking a cotton pad with the solution and gentle pulling your foot towards him by the ankle. "Ah, thanks goodness it doesn't seem to be deep." He said with relief, gently dabbing the cotton pad to the wound. It stung a little but it wasn't too bad. "All nice and clean, do you have cute band-aids?" "Only boring plain ones I'm afraid." Taehyung scrunched his nose. "Boo." With a band-aid beneath your foot and your longed for tea in your hands you sat next to him on the sofa. "An eventful morning." "I should become your fulltime caretaker at this point." Taehyung joked. "Not that I'd mind." "Will you pay me?" He raised his brows as well as the mug to his lips. "No way." You smiled. "Charity work is good for karma." "I already have good karma!" Taehyung protested, pretending to be offended. He laughed that trademark warm laugh that was like a smooth cackle that somehow always triggered a little firework to go off in your chest. You smiled, looking into your mug as if it'd tell you a fortune. ... you swallowed and looked up. In winter the sun rose late and had begun its voyage above the horizon, painting the sky a bright warm orange tone as it shined in through the window behind Taehyung. No. You didn't have feelings for him. You just felt some post-event shakiness and nerves and for the matter of a fact you finally got your much needed cry. It must just be your chest feeling lighter thanks to the cry. "So, do you have any planes today?" Taehyung asked. "I don't even know what day it is." "Good, I don't have plans either and it's Saturday for your information. But I do have a potential plan and that is, since I'm already here, to spend the day with you unless you have important to do's, which you shouldn't, because you need a break." He whispered towards the end. "A fmnn break." He repeated, biting his lip on the word to censor himself, but he got his point across. "A break would be nice... but when I try, I feel distressed as if I shouldn't be doing it because I'm wasting my time. I need-" "A distraction" Taehyung filled in. You nodded. "Then thou shall sit here and watch my live-in-action cooking show live from your kitchen." He said cheerfully, slapping his hands to his thighs as he stood up. "Do you have strawberries?" He asked. "In the freezer." "Yes!" He made his way to the kitchen, worth to mention is the open floor plan of your apartment so you could see him well enough from where you were seated. The soft messy curls on his head bounced with him as he walked. He dramatically pointed at you with a spatula in his hand. "Welcome." He said, speaking deeply into the spatula. "The pancake and strawberry smoothie extravaganza extraordinaire show with your host." He point his thumb and index under his chin. "Kim Taehyung." His goofiness never failed to bring a smile to your face. He went to grab his phone on the sofa table. "I need background music...." he hummed as he scrolled, spatula still in his other hand. "Jeopardy music 10 hours?" He looked up at you for an opinion. "Please no." He giggled and a calm upbeat song started playing from him phone as he put it back down and resorted to the kitchen. While frying up the first batch he was spaced out, humming on the theme tune to jeopardy anyway. You had made yourself comfortable on the sofa, lying down. The sofa smelt like him now. The same sweet comforting scent as the hug had... and his coat the numerous times he'd wrapped it around you when it was cold or shielded you from the rain with it. But speaking of memory, thinking back at those often occurring times you were also reminded about how a previous "friend" used to try and provoke you into being nervous and shy in Taehyung's presence. You'd been close for years and maybe she had an issue with that or something but she'd always find ways to tease you in way. Claiming Taehyung was giving you "looks" or "checking you out" in ways she as a self-declared expert in men deemed were of more than friendly nature. And since she as expert of men by that likely thought all men were the same, proves how reliable of a source she was. Taehyung he just.... you were close. She just wanted to make you feel embarrassed and self-conscious and make it awkward between you. You hated thinking about that. It made you overthink and feel awkward. Like an evil loop. You looked up at the breakfast chef, catching his eye as he quickly looked back down to the pancakes. You could get used to this view. Handsome man in boxers and sweater making you pancakes when you’re feeling blue, the headline in your head spelled out. The Zen experience of the kitchen fan being turned off brought stillness and Taehyung emerges with a plate of pancakes, disappearing and re-appearing again after denying your offer to help with the strawberry smoothies, plates, forks, knifes and every suitable pancake topping he had been able to locate in your kitchen. And a tube of mustard as a joke that you only kept in your fridge for when your dad came over to dinner and his weird obsession with having mustard on everything. It was probably even expired. "Enjoy your meal." "You're my hero Taehyung." You said, stabbing a pancake. "I can be your hero baby." You froze. "What?" "Haven't you heard that song?" He smiled. Oh.. "Hero? By Enrique Iglesias?" "Ah, now that you mention it-" "With the weird music video were goes on this road trip with the girl and then he's suddenly rubbing money over her body in this random stone house." "Is this what you binge on youtube at 2am when I wake up to 15 links and emotional texts." "Do not judge me!" You giggled. "I'm not, I like waking up to those texts from you. You sent them to me for a reason." Taehyung smiled shyly. "Yeah... anyhow! I have a suggestion, a proposal, a-" "Go on" "Since I'm your hero, but even I weren't. I thought maybe I could stay here a few days? Only if you want me to, of course. I just-" he became shyer. "I like to think that you seem to feel better when I'm around and you're going through a rough time so I'd like to be there for you, like you are for me." Your heart made its presence in your chest known yet again. "You should think.... because it's true." "So?" "It'd be nice." He smiled widely. "Great! But I do need to go home and pack some clothes and... some pajamas and Yeontan! He is a great comforter trust me, he has cheered me up many times when I've cried." "Cried? What were you crying about?" "Oh- uhm it's nothing, it's ok now so." He swatted it away. "Boys cry too." He joked, but it tasted weird. "But he's staying with my parents this weekend, but if you want I can go pick him up." He suggested. "It's ok, he needs time with his grandparent." Taehyung chuckled. "Well they love their grandson so I'm sure they wouldn't mind having him stay an extra day or two." -- You couldn't help but feel bad that Taehyung had to sleep on the sofa... His bag with clothes and necessities was placed in the hallway and the covers neatly hung over the backrest. "We could take turns and sleep in the bed every other day." "I told you it was fine." Taehyung insisted, again. "I just feel bad..." "Then let’s both sleep in your bed and call it even." "...." your cheeks felt hot. "See, so I'll sleep on the sofa. Don't worry about it!" What does he mean "see"? ... you were simply imagining what excuse to use as to how your head would coincidentally end up on his chest instead of your pillow. "Or we'll both sleep on the sofa, but it might be a bit cramped." He continued. "Maybe this was a bad idea..." "Hey no! No, I'm just joking. Don't feel bad ok." Taehyung's hands smoothed down your arms. "Beds are better at healing wounds on the feet too." You exhaled deeply. "Oh TaeTae..." "Doesn't this feel like we're having a pajama party or sleep over?" He smiled. "Kinda, should we build a blanket fort and watch movies?" His mouth dropped open. "I'm just kidding!" You laughed He pouted. "Oh you want to?" A nod. "You want to build a fort and watch movies?" You asked with more excitement. More enthusiastic nodding. You both cracked up laughing on the sofa together. "I'm serious though." Taehyung grinned. -- You lied awake in your bed, eyes to the ceiling. For some wild reason you both thought it would be a great idea to binge through the entire twilight saga series as a source of comedy but you only made it up to half-way through eclipse when it became too much to handle for both of you. The first movie was easy to mock and laugh at and make fun out if but once it got more serious and romantic in new moon it started getting a little awkward. To say the least, feeling flustered from watching twilight but not due to the movie itself but from the presence of Taehyung right next to you in your make-shift sofa blanket fort. You couldn't stop thinking about him. And he was out there... on your sofa, right now. And who knew if he was in cute polka dot pajamas with his hair a mess on the pillow or his tight fitted boxers and his hair tied up.. You bit your lip, crossing your legs at the visual. You remembered the first time you witnessed Taehyung tie his hair up and how it felt like being punched in the gut. It's not possible to be that attractive. "Then aren't you attracted to him?" The voice echoed in your head. Just because you find someone attractive doesn't mean you're attracted to them! Which is very much true. But Taehyung's personality was attractive too which was harder to justify the same way. And his person. And him. The entire package. You sighed. Maybe the stupidest thing you could do right now was reach for your phone and google "do I have feelings for my best friend?" Ah yes. A quiz. Maybe it wasn't so stupid after all, it'd say maybe you like him but you're not into him at the very most. Question 1, do you find them attractive. Well who wouldn't? And like mentioned it doesn't mean you're attracted to him. Yes. Question 2, do they like you? Pfft... what kind of question is that? How would you know? I don't know... or yes I guess? I mean he clearly likes you as a friend or he wouldn't be up to making all this effort for you but do they mean platonically? You ticked maybe. Question 3, Do you stalk them on social media? What the??? He's your best friend! The algorhythm shoves his posts in your face weather you like it or not. Sometimes. Question 4, Do you see them a lot? Yes. Question 5, Do you want to know more about them? You already know everything ... but what he cries about to Yeontan is something. Yes. Question 6, when you see them with somebody else who isn't considered their friend, how do you feel? Jealous. Question 7, when they're around you how do you feel? Nervous or self-conscious or nothing or i don’t know... well nervous AND a little self-conscious depending on the situation and if he's dressed or in just his boxers. Nervous. Question 8, Do you think about them? Yes. Always. Question 9, Do you laugh at their jokes? Another weird one but yes. Question 10, are they your ex? Huh? No. Definitely. A lot. You placed your phone screen down on your chest and let out a sigh. Maybe visualizing a kiss or two while in the shower was a crime after all... or was the question why were you in the first place? He was amazing in every type of way and you wanted to know if he was amazing at kissing too andmaybeinbed but you can't just ask him that or try it out, so you had to resort to imagination.... Who were you even trying to convince at this point? You liked him. Definitely. And a lot. The realization did nothing to help you fall asleep unfortunately. Another 15 minutes in dark silence passed when you suddenly heard the floorboards squeak. Maybe Taehyung was going to the bathroom or grabbing a glass of water... But the soft pats of his feet should've stopped by now... Your half open door pushed open a bit more shyly and Taehyung peaked in. Dressed in pajama bottoms, but no shirt. "You're awake." He said, whispering. "So are you." "I can't sleep..." he rubbed his arm. "I feel lonely." As if you'd deny him looking all shy and vulnerable in your door. You scooted to the side in your bed, making raise his brows in hope and anticipation, fingers fidgeting. "Come." You said, patting the bed next to you. The bed dipped gently as he lied down and you put the covers over him. He shifted onto his side, placing his head on your pillow. This was better. But since you just took an online quiz to realize you had feelings for this man currently shirtless in your bed, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward. "How come you're feeling lonely?" You asked, trying to conceal your stiffness "To a start I sleep better when I get to hold something." He said shyly "Who?" You asked, intending for it to be a thought. "When I'm at home, Yeontan." Of course... "He lays on the bed and I feel less lonely and hearing him walk around or do something makes me feel soothed knowing I'm not alone... for the most part." "Are the tears you cry... tears of loneliness?" You could tell it triggered something in him. He bit his lip and nodded gently, eyes glossy. "For the most part it's just me and a pillow." He confessed. "But you could say-... it's something like that, yes." Face to face, mere inches apart. You thanked the darkness of the room that he couldn't see you blush right now but unreasonable fear that he'd somehow "sense" it in the atmosphere still worried you. You shouldn't have taken that stupid quiz it only made you start overthinking and it was probably rigged and the questions were weird so why should you listen to it? Get back to your senses! He's your best friend and you're comfortable with him! Calm down! "... I know it's dumb" Taehyung mumbled. "I know it seems like I'm this easy-going social butterfly with lots of friends who can find someone to hang out with within seconds... but when I'm alone at home, I just feel so empty. Like if nobody sees me, I don't exist. Thus when I'm alone, I'm not real anymore." "That's very philosophical, but what if someone thinks about you while you are alone? Then wouldn't you exist since somebody has you on their mind?" "But it'd be impossible for me to know and people have better things to do than walk around and daydream about me." It stung a little inside hearing him say this. "People are actually capable of multitasking you see, they can do these better things you speak of and think about you at the same time. I think about you a lot, sometimes I think about you while doing the laundry, riding the bus or taking a show- that sound's wrong." Taehyung chuckled. "But you get what I mean." "What do you mean?" He asked "That I think about you and that you aren't alone TaeTae, you never are. If you're ever feeling lonely, maybe think about me. If that helps. Or get to know yourself more, become your own friend or create an imaginary friend!" "I already do that." "Have an imaginary friend?" "Think about you." Oh. "... does it help?" You asked shyly. He shook his head. "It just makes me miss you and want to come to see you." Is it possible to experience a softer heart attack than you just did? Rather than a heart exploding in saw gore-level mess it gently poofed and became a small cloud of red feathers gently falling to the ground. Since when had you become a softie? Two hours ago you were all if there's no sex in the romance novel, it's not worth my time but now you suddenly felt an urge to ransack the romance section of the nearest library to read every cheesy romance story you could find until you could find one similar to your own. Your... own? What? With... with Taehyung? ... not that you’d visualize every male lead character as coincidentally similar to him regardless of how their looks were described in the book.... "Maybe I do need to spend some time with myself to get over it..." No! Stay here with me! "I can spend more time with you." Taehyung looked up. "I think that could benefit us both." He sounded more hopeful now. "Well, you're already here so it's also convenient." Despite the darkness you could make out the smile on his face that appeared. Cute. But wait... did Taehyung suggest he could stay here for you, because he felt lonely? He shifted slightly and the sheets rustled. His leg accidently brushed against yours and your first thought was to tangle your legs with his in a leg tackle war... but you still felt too on edge to act casual and playful with him like you normally could. You swallowed. "How long have you felt this way?" "A while... a long while. At first it was nothing but then it got worse and even more worse when I realized this one thing." "What thing was that if I may ask?" He sighed. "It's hard to explain... but, say a friend." "Mhm?" "A friend feels kinda lost, existentialism and stuff going on, doesn't like to be by himself, then he finds this person and they make him forget it all but once they’re apart it all returns to him again like they were his escape but only for as long as they were together." "Is that only with that one person or all?" "No no, only that person. And then he realizes he might be in love, or he's addicted to the person in a way, but in a good way not an obsessive way just-" "In love?" "Something like that." "You're in love?" "Huh?! What no! This was about a friend! I'm not talking about me!" "Then what did you realize Taehyung?" You could tell his mind briefly blanked in panic. "I realized that maybe I, as said friend need to find that person for me." "A person?" He nodded shyly. "You want to fall in love?" "I don't know... something like that." 'Something like that' seemed to be his catchphrase this evening. But in love? A person? His person?... that couldn't be you... could it? Did he want you to be his person? Were you his person?? The questions and confusion kept spiraling through your head, (finally) making you feel tired and exhausted. "I think... I just want to tend to someone else than myself, to not have to think so much about it and instead take care of somebody else." "Is that why you offered to stay?" "Yes and no, I want to take care of you because I am genuinely concerned and worried about you, I want to be there for you. But also, sleeping on the couch last night, hearing you tiptoe around the kitchen... it made me feel comforted." His voice sounded drowsy. "If you want... I can be your person in this scenario." You suggested. "You've already become.. person." He mumbled, sinking deeper into his half-awake state. -- You stretched your leg out one at the time, twisting your body gently and inhaling deeply into a stretch, gently batting your eyes open. You pushed a palm against the bed to get up into a seated position when something suddenly restrained you, heavy over your abdomen. Surprised, you raised the sheet to see the reminder of what you had forgotten last night. Over your waist, a lean arm with faint thin dark hairs and a few subtle veins travelling up the forearm from the large hand clung to the side of your waist... all attached to the source of warmth to your left, Taehyung. His dark locks a mess on the pillow, his bare upper body now fully on display in the daylight and his polka dot pajama pants haven travelled down a bit too far low for your sanity... Cursed be the eyes in your skull for travelling down the view. You would've noticed it sooner or later regardless, especially since your thigh was a hair between touching it. It, being the weird relief of knowing he got some deep relaxing sleep in... but with an awkward morning surprise... and his arm wouldn't grant you freedom without you accidentally or intentionally having to wake him up. You carefully shifted to at least have your thighs at a safer distance, but your bed wasn't intended for two people, so it was easier said than done. His grip suddenly tightened and a low groan escaped him as he shifted. Why did you feel fear as if you shouldn’t be present in your bed in which he entered himself. If anyone Taehyung should be the one fearing his life right now. His thumb caressed your side gently and it felt nice... soothing. Until his eyes suddenly opened wide with a soft gasp as you felt his morning hard on grace against your thigh. Eyes that pleaded and begged you didn't notice pierced into yours and you decided to play along. "Did you sleep well?" His hand quickly retreated to your disappointment. "Sorry i... I did it in my sleep it wasn't-" "It's ok, you said you sleep well holding something and being held didn't feel too bad..." "Well, in that case, I actually slept better than I have in a really long time." He said, voice raspy and deep still. He rolled onto his back, thankfully, and placed his hand behind his head. "Did you?" "Huh?" "Did you sleep well?" "In fact, I did." You said, answering truthfully and resisting the urge to put your head on his bare chest. If only the lord or whoever would stop testing me... "Hungry?" He asked. You nodded. "Great, I'll fix something ok, but close your eyes." "Why?" "I'm shirtless." ... right. You covered your eyes with your hands and the warmth left your side as he got up and escaped the room. You slowly got up, trying to win some time for him but a few brief seconds later heard the sound of the bathroom door down the hall closing and locking. Yikes. That went smoother than expected. You set up some tea, knowing Taehyung described coffee as the closest to unlethal poison you could find, you knew he'd prefer tea or hot chocolate and that there was no use to ask. You knew him too well. It was nice having him here. And waking up with a strong arm around your waist wasn't too bad either... if only you could've let yourself enjoy the moment instead of freaking out, what if he grew cautious now and you'd never experience it again? You sighed softly, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard. After a while, the kettle clicked and you poured some water into each mug. It had been a while now... ... was he meditating in there? There was no sound of the shower, or anything, not that you were listening. Would it be weird if you asked if he was ok? Since the kettle was off the entire apartment became significantly more silent. You heard a faint mumble. "Fuck..." You swallowed. Ear please momentarily turn off, mind and imagination too please. You reached to put the kettle back on but since the water was already hot it clicked off again after 5 seconds. The bathroom door opened and you braced yourself to not look down. Luckily, he was now wearing his oversized sweater or else you would've failed immediately. He let out a soft chuckle. "I spaced out." His cheeks were flushed red and glowing. Right. "I made you some tea." -- Why were deep topics always easier to talk about at night? Were people like clams? You wake up and it opens a little and once we hit the night the clam is fully open and then closes during sleep to a new no-talk-me-I-not-have-tea-yet to ask-me-about-how-i-view-existentialism cycle? Or were nights just vulnerable with the darkness? In that case you should metaphorically speaking be an open clam all day during winter when the sun goes into its own hibernation. But here you were again, just like last night, except... 20 minutes into the sudden power outage that made your impromptu movie night come to a halt. And it was getting really cold. Bundled up under a cover together, staring at the flicker of the candle on the coffee table in silence. "I was going to offer to make you tea to warm you up but the kettle..." Taehyung said with a soft chuckle. "The power will probably come back any moment soon." He said optimistically. As you looked out of the window earlier, you noticed it wasn't just your place, but the entire block seemed to have an outage. Unusual. But the current roaring rain storm outside likely had something to do with it. The wind was aggressive, the windows shook, it whistled in a creepy way and the trees outside rustled loudly. "How about we play a game?" Taehyung suddenly suggested, breaking off the silence again. He was feeling awkward, you could tell. He always rested his hands in his lap, fidgeting or poking at the cuticles of his nails when he felt awkward. "Sure, what should we play?" His face lit up. "Questions and answers? I can start!" "Shoot!" You folded your legs and shifted to face him on the couch. "What's your ideal type." ... he... immediately went there. "Looks or personality?" Taehyung shrugged. "Both." "Well it depends on the vibe they give off of course... and mainly. I guess tall, but it's not that important, wide shoulders are always nice." You paused to think, how can I describe Taehyung without it sounding like I'm describing Taehyung. "Funny, caring, optimistic, outgoing..." "Like me!" He smiled widely. You leaned back, squinting while caressing your chin, examining him playfully. "Hmmmn" He placed his hands under his jaw, like he was displaying his face and batted his eyelashes. "Not bad, not bad." He looked disappointed. "Just not bad?" You playfully nudged his arm. "It's your turn to answer. "Fine." He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest but cracking a giggle. "I'll ask you the same question." "Very original, you." "It's called recycling, so tell me." "I did." "Huh?" "You." Your heart froze briefly before beginning to pound. "Me?" "Mn!" He said confidently. "You're not bad" he mocked. You swallowed. "I have a question about the rules." "Go on" "If I ask you anything, do you have to tell the truth?" "Yes! Nothing but. So you better tell me what you actually think rather than 'not bad'" "Is the friend you talked about actually you? And am I the person?" He tensed up, swallowing. "I guess it was obvious..." he mumbled, rubbing his arm and looking down at his lap. "I just..." he began, but reluctance interrupted him. "I understand." You said. He looked up, seemingly surprised yet still tensed "I make you feel less lonely." He nodded slowly. "Which makes sense. After all we're best friends." You continued. "... right." He looked away. "Best friends." Taehyung reached up to move his hair away from his eyes, still facing down as if he was considering something. "So... what do you think of me?" His voice sounded more serious. Where to start of course he was gorgeous! Wide shoulders, a build you'd die to slide your hands down, dark big eyes, a sweet smile with plump lips, sculpted perfectly and his honey skin. Person wise... he was someone you'd want to have as your person. "A nice person" He scoffed. "Seriously?" He seemed upset. He finally looked up, meeting your gaze. There was a sparkle in his eye. The warm light from the candle made his face glow even more. "I mean person as in the person you have, a your-person" "A nice your-person?" He tilted his head. "You told me yesterday in bed that you can feel like someone is your person because they bring you comfort and make all your problems go away and you feel better just by being in their presence! A nice that-type-of-person." "But I was talking about you!" He pleaded "And now I'm talking about you." "You are my person, what do you mean?" He asked, placing emphasis on "my" "That you're my person too. Am I being unclear?" "No, not at all. I just wanted to hear you say it." "So you tricked me?" You scoffed. "Not really." He leaned closer. "But maybe I set you up and you simply walked into my trap." "So now what? We're just going to sit here in denial over the fact that we both admitted to being each other's person?" You questioned, feeling slightly panicky and picking at your nails. Was this platonic or not? "We don't have to" he grinned. "But to be clear, I'm not talking about you being my person as in my other half, my best friend type person, even though you are that too bit this isn't it." "Are you trying to tell me that you're in love with me?" He tensed up again. Fuck it. "Then just say it, stop confusing me with your riddles and metaphors and I won't do the same. Just tell me-" His hand pressed against the back of your head as he leaned in almost all the way. He caressed the back of your head gently and your gaze dropped to his soft pink lips with the tiny freckle to the side. You leaned in close enough to brush a gentle touch before Taehyung pressed you closer for your lips to finally collide. It started off desperate yet a little shy. You pressed back, grabbing at his sides and the kiss deepened. Your heart was pounding. Never did you expect he'd just go for it and kiss you when you showed some bold courage towards him but you didn’t have a slightest regret because he tasted so good against your mouth. His plump pink lips so passionate, so needy but also so gentle and triggering an explosion in your chest. Taehyung leaned over you, making you lay down on the couch as he crawled on top and it turned into an even wilder heated make out. Your hand tangled into his hair, his hand rubbed against the side of your waist under your top. Fearing it'd be the first, last and only, you wanted every single piece of this moment you could have. Unintentional, his touch triggered a soft moan to escape your throat, which subsequently triggered a groan from Taehyung. Making a sound like that with his voice should be illegal. It did things to you, things you didn't want to confess. But the box of secret confessions was torn open within seconds as Taehyung, a heavy breathing mess suddenly pulled away from your lips and landed by your ear, exhaling deeply. "Fuck, I'm hard." He groaned and you knew the box was flying out the windows with your filthy confession floating aimlessly around for him to hear but all you managed to stutter out was a choked "huh?" "If you knew how long I've wanted you for." He whispered. "How scared I've been of being rejected because I knew it'd shatter me." The hopeless romantic you knew he was made his attendance known. "A friend?" You chuckled. "Maybe I set myself up with that one, I admit. But I was hoping you'd catch on." He chuckled, still breathless. He planted a kiss against your neck. Were you about to have sex? Would it lead to that? Did you mind? Certainly not... Taehyung pushed up slightly, looking down at you. "May I?" You nodded and he smiled widely, pressing a kiss to your lips. Shifting, he easily found his place between your thighs and grinded up against you slowly with pressure, causing both of you to exhale into a sweet needy moan. Your feelings felt scattered all over the place but this wasn't the time to pick them up. You wanted to let go, to surrender, just for this moment. Let go of everything clawing at your back, clouding the sunny skies and draining you. There is nothing more exhausting than smiling pretending everything is ok while whatever inflated issue in beast form is clawing its nails across your back and the scars sting like lemon juice was just rubbed all over you, feeling disgusting and sticky, let alone in pain and with a sore back from the held tension. He grinded again, sensually this time as the tip of his nose travelled up your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. "Mmm" he hummed softly. Your hand made its way to his nape as he settled by your neck. "I could fall asleep here." He chuckled. "Right here in your neck, it's so warm and smells so nice. It's more effective than lavender." "Are you enchanted by my odor?" He laughed his trademark bubble laugh. "I wish you knew how much fun you are." He squeezed you, rubbing up firmer to you with a desperate grunt. "Fuck I can't take it anymore." He stood on his knees, crossing his arms in front of him and grabbing the hem of his sweater, pulling it up and off, exposing his soft skin and toned chest as it fell to the floor. His hand reached for the button on his pants but before making it to the zipper his attention returned back to you with his hands sliding up under your top and pulling it up over your head. "I just want to make sure again... is it ok?" He asked, eyes big. "Yes, touch me, kiss me, do whatever you want just don’t leave the couch. At least not without me." He smirked at this, finally able to surrender to his greed. Taehyung reached for the waistline of your pants, unbuttoning, unzipping and pulling them down your hips with your underwear going off with them. His fingers softly rakes over your skin as he travelled down your legs, your hips lifted to assist him and then they were tossed onto the floor. He reached for his own zipper again but you sat up, quickly swatting his hand away and reaching for it yourself. He was on his knees between your thighs. You pulled them down, sliding your hands over his soft curved hips, revealing his tight fitted boxers with little to any space left for his hard on. You swallowed. He blushed. Relieved that Taehyung took over the lead again you lied back down as his hands gently pushed you back, slipping the bra straps off your shoulders and reaching behind you to unhook and free you from your final piece of clothing. But with this one he wasn't in a rush. He slowly tugged at the lacey fabric, revealing your chest to him as he bit his lip. "Wow." He mumbled and his patience was gone. One hand grabbed your left boob, feeling it and squeezing it softly as the other slipped into his boxer to touch himself. He whimpered, seemingly trembling as a result of his desperation and the discomfort he must be feeling in those tight pair of... he let go of your boob, quickly pulling his boxers down and himself out. You felt your core twist and ache and his boxers joined the pile of clothes on the floor. Taehyung fell forward onto all fours on top of you. Fully exposed, fully erect and a full sight to take in in the dim light in the dark. Distracted and eyes travelling all over him, his hand suddenly cupped your chin, tilting it up for you to face him. His nose graced over yours in a sweet eskimo kiss before his lips, just as gently pressed to yours. Taehyung's hand slid down your neck, your chest and down until he found himself. Your toes curled as you felt his touch where you wanted him the most in this moment, the tip of him slowly sliding up and down your slit, triggering your need even more. Taehyung let out a shaky exhale. His lips were parted and eyes staring right down at your exposed curves. He positioned himself, slowly sliding the tip in, just to feel... just to get some urgent relief... he leaned his head back and his hands landed a tight grip of your waist. He couldn't take it anymore. Slowly and carefully he began to push. Making sure by studying your every expression that he wasn't hurting you and that it felt good. A sweet whimper escaped you, causing him to grin in delight as he pushed in deeper. He was thick... the gentle stretch he caused felt amazing and you couldn't stop yourself from clenching around him, making him moan and managing to make you even wetter just by the sound. With a soft grunt he slipped in all the way. Giving you a moment to adjust to his size, he moved his hand up to caress your cheek with the back of his hand. His touch felt like magic. Like a gentle feather smoothing over your cheek, but slender and strong, with long dainty beautiful fingers. You leaned into his touch. "Does it feel ok?" He whispered. You gave a reassuring nod. He pulled his hips back and thrusted back in, not too soft and not too hard he picked up a slow but deep rhythm for his movements. Your hands felt their way up and across his back, studying every curve and where he naturally flexed as he moved. His hands were firmly holding you in place at the waist, every desperate exhale and every shaky inhale sending almost an ASMR like tingle down your spine via your ear until your name suddenly slipped his lips. Most people feel a fuzzy like feeling inside hearing their proper name be called but this... this was unlike no other time. His deep voice, following a whimper, exhaling your name like a magic spell and it fading into a shiver-causing moan. To put it simply it was the sexiest thing you've ever heard and it activated a whole new part within you that felt foreign but so so so good. Like your blood had suddenly turned into liquid gold, all happy hormones releasing in a firework spelling the world "nothing else matters" in an imaginary sky. You wrapped your arms tighter around him, moaning his name out felt liberating. And it clearly triggered an equal reaction. His cheeks were already flushed and his eyes went wide. He smirked, growing more desperate, fucking your harder and deeper, chasing release. "Please cum for me." He whispered, pleading. "Please." He didn't need to place a formal request, you were already loosing yourself. The only sound echoing in the darkness being the roaring wind and rain along with your breaths and groans and the sound of his hips and your thighs. Wet, heavenly sounds to you. His sweet moans, his broad back, his dick... everything about him made you feel euphoric. The ever building tension below, the sweat forming on his forehead... "I'm gonna cum" he whimpered. Thinking your body couldn't possibly react stronger to him than it already was, it did. The thrusts grew faster, grunts louder and you could feel yourself leak even more. Back arching, tension growing... it felt even tighter now... you could feel him so well, every movement until you suddenly came un-done with a loud whimper to his ear, setting him off into his own orgasm, cumming deep inside with a string of "oh"s and groans, gritting his teeth together and tensing his face in a greedy expression. He slowed down to a halt, remaining inside, breathless on top of you. The light on the sofa table had reached its end and the faint scent of smoke filled the air as the flame went out, making the room completely pitch black. Taehyung's face nuzzled softly against your neck, inhaling the scent of you deeply and being soothed. "Wow." He coughed, followed by a groan. "Wow." You repeated, happy that the light went out so he couldn’t see your flushed face. "You ok?" He whispered, vulnerability present in his voice. "I didn't go to hard right?" "It was amazing." He let out a breath of release and an awkward chuckle. "I'll pull out.." he said shyly, moving his hips back slowly and gently, slipping out. To your surprise, Taehyung climbed off of you, standing on his feet. The cold air made your nipples ache and your skin shiver. You wanted your human blanket and source of heat back. But you didn’t have to wait for long. A pair of strong arms slid in under you, lifting you up with ease. "The sofa is too tiny." He carried you into your bedroom, gently putting you back down on the bed and laying down on his side next to you, pulling you close to his chest where his heart was still pounding hard. He hugged you tight, caressing the back of your head. His lips pressed against the crown of your head gently. "My good girl." He whispered, sounding almost proud. Your cheeks burned and a weird sense to cry bubbled up but you quickly swallowed it and hugged him tighter, burying your face against his chest. Never had you thought being called a good girl, specifically "Taehyung's" good girl would be able to move you to tears. But maybe it's what you needed to hear, mixed with the hormonal serotonin cocktail your body just released upon you. "You'll always have me." He nuzzled his nose in your hair. With a click the power came back on, including your pink hue nightstand lamp next to the bed. Taehyung's cheeks were deeply flushed, amplified by the flattering pink light cast over him. You giggled. Had this really just happened? Because it felt so right. Or was it just the relief of sex? But masturbating had never made you feel this emotional before... You looked up at Taehyung's face again and he smiled softly, his hand caressing your bare back up and down. It was definitely him.
#taehyung#networkbangtan#bts#bts v#v#taehyung angst#bts angst#bts smut#taehyung smut#bangtan#bts fic#taehyung fic#tae#v smut#v angst#smut#angst#fic#kpop#kim taehyung#friends to lovers
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Hellboy Films: Why animated did better than live action
Hello, friends
Many of you may not know this, but out of all the superhero comics, Hellboy is my favourite. What can I say? As a little girl, I was a misfit, so a misfit hero like Hellboy was right up my alley and the concept of someone being born to be bad to turn out so good because he had a loving father to show him the way is beautiful. My introduction to Hellboy was the first live action film in the 2000s and at the time, I liked it, but then I started reading the comics. Once I got to know the real Hellboy and series, the more I fell in love with the comics yet at the same time, the more I go to not like the live action films and not just because I found the sequel and reboot in 2019 bad. There are many problems with the three live action Hellboy films which rub me the wrong way and not simply because they are live action. Most superheroes started off as cartoon drawings, but were well done in live action, but Hellboy missed all the notes. Now as a mature adult woman who is experienced at storytelling as well as analyzing, I rewatched some of the live action and I took time to watch the animated films. The difference in quality is night and day (no pun intended and I will give links to the animated films because they are stunning). I will now tell you all where the animated films went right and how live action went all wrong.
1- Hellboy’s design was better in the animated films. - I am more than willing to be forgiving when it comes to taking artistic liberties. Sometimes, the results can be beautiful, but in the case live action Hellboy, it was all wrong and I have to blunt, we can do so much better with graphic design now than just simply taking a tall buff man, putting make up and props on him. I hate sounding mean, but both versions just look like a guy wearing a cosplaying as Hellboy. It would have been much better if Hellboy was completely and entirely CGI or perhaps even an elaborate puppet costume like the ones used in the Jim Henson films. It may sound like enough to give the hero red skin, a stone hand, horns, a tail, cloven feet (which are covered), amber eyes, pointed ears and be very tall. He STILL looks too human compared to the comic and compared to what movie makers can do, it’s lackluster.
Now, we turn to the animated version which did more than just the obvious. Hellboy isn’t inhuman looking just because of the said traits before. He is inhuman because of his proportions and shape especially his face. It is a confirmed fact that he is not just not human. He is ugly and animalistic looking. His features are the combination of a satyr and gorilla especially when you look at how thin his legs, jaw, shoulders, posture and so on. Also, his eyes aren’t just amber. He has no pupils, no schlera (the white part) and no irises. The entire eye is nothing, but amber which makes them disturbing to look at. He cannot simply cover his face, tail and hand, then simply blend in. He cannot even wear most human clothes hence why Hellboy is always shirtless and his hooves are exposed. In other words, animated Hellboy looks like Hellboy.
2- The animated plot was clean, to the point with no filler. - While I admit the first live action film kept it pretty simple, I find that it still had a lot of filler and too much subplot. If you ever read a Hellboy comic, you will know right off the bat that Mike Mignola is a master at the art of pacing without fluff. Yes, he respect that character development and buildup takes time, but he doesn’t drag things. Ever. And he does not make everything so angsty either. Yes, he hints that the characters have issues, trauma, emotional pain and at times, depression, but he did so without making them into whiners. For the most part, the cast and hero would pick themselves up and do what they had to like adults. If anything, they were also each other’s emotional support and they don’t hate people. The animated version captured that completely and even showed us that the cast did not consist of malcontents who played the “poor me” card to death. In the beginning of Blood and Iron, Abe, Liz and Hellboy were happily talking about a bakery they had found once which reminds us that with all their hardships they do seek and accept joy in life even from something as simple as good pastries.
Moreover, the plot of the film was to the point with some amount of subplots, but without getting complicated and without the subplots contradicting each other. Everything had a way of coming together neatly and even though we did sometimes get surprises, they didn’t feel like filler. They felt like things that were always there, but now, we are aware of them. Most importantly, there was no cheap or silly selling point tactics like relationship drama or the stereotypical father-son bickering (more on this later). Hellboy is not that kind of story.
3- The subtle messages and morals in the animated films were deeper and better. - Being the mature adult I am now, I can say that the first Hellboy really was just Beauty and the Beast while using the Hellboy cast instead and it presented in the message in all of the outdated and bad ways. Don’t get me wrong, I find the idea of Hellboy falling in love romantic and I admit that underneath all of the darkness and action, everything about Hellboy comes back to love. However, it is not romantic love where the end all be all is to be accepted by humanity by getting into a relationship with a human, then turning into a handsome prince even if only metaphorically. The deeper and more important kind of love Hellboy tries to teach is self love how you are regardless how strange people deem you. If you have done something with your life and made something of yourself, then it is ok to be you and are already more loved than you realize. The other kind of love that has always been important to the series is family unity. You see, Hellboy, Liz and Abe are like siblings to each other and Prof. Bruttenholm is an incredibly loving father figure to all of them namely Hellboy who he raised since he was a baby.
He made the big red guy into the man he is today. In fact, even as an adult, Hellboy and Bruttenholm are a very sweet and kind father and son duo. They are not at each other’s throats, they don’t snark at each other or are incapable of agreeing on anything. There is no spite, there is no anger, there is no resentment and there is no ingratitude. There is only love and honestly, THIS is the love that ought to be showcased more in the films.
With that all said and done, the animated films also had their subtle deep messages which we not only understand clearly, but we also appreciate more. In the first movie Sword of Storms, it was all about finding a balance between persevering and knowing when to let go. In other words, keep doing what you must if it is still relevant and making a difference, but if it isn’t and is the reason you’re stuck, by all means quit. There are many roads to closure. In the second one Blood and Iron, it was clear from the beginning that the message was to not underestimate the elderly. They may not be as strong as they once were, but their experience and wisdom gets them and you out of tough spots. They have been through everything before and know what to do. By all means, aid them and help them, but don’t treat them like helpless babies. I also have to say that when I look at the messages the two animated films were telling us, they are not only clearer, but pretty underrated ones too. In the case of the live action films, the messages were muddled if not done before.
In short, I look at the animated films and I’m impressed. If another live action Hellboy does come along, I hope that this time, it will be done right and I really don’t want to see relationship, gore fests, snark or family drama again. Of course, this all my opinion and I would love to hear all of yours.
Thank you for reading and stay safe.
EDIT: Wouldn’t you know it? I forgot the link to all things Hellboy Animated. Here it is https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hellboy_Animated
#hellboy#mike mignola#abraham sapien#liz sherman#abe sapien#professor bruttenholm#kate corrigan#roger#dark horse#comics#animated#film#movie#love#quality#demon#half demon#hero#superhero
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La Luxure (m.)
↳ Thank you to @kim-seok-jin for the beautiful banner and dividers, and to @chillingtae for helping her with it! ^^
Heartbroken and done with relationships, Y/N decides to vent about her breakup to the sweetest bartender. Yet just a glance in his dark eyes is enough to tell her that maybe, just maybe she won’t spend the night crying for an ex-boyfriend, but drowning in her lust for him instead.
↠ Pairing: Jungkook × f.reader
↠ Word Count: 10.9k
↠ Genres: Angst, smut, fluff, (slight) crack (if you squint)
↠ Rating: 18+
↠ Trigger Warnings: Breakups and toxic relationship, cheating, swearing, physical fight, drama, alcohol, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex, hinted voyeurism, one night stand, long foreplay, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, degrading, creampie
⇢ This story was written as a birthday gift to @rubinora. We hope you had an amazing day! :D ⇠
Soojin: Y/N come quick.
You take a deep breath. I’m almost there, Soojin, I’m almost there. The sound of your footsteps against the pavement is the only thing you hear. You would’ve made it. You would’ve made it in time if it wasn’t for your pesky co-workers.
To the usual person, it is a cool Friday night.
To you, it is one of the worst days of your life.
… Or maybe you wouldn’t go as far as to call it that. Maybe, in the future, you would even call this one of your good days.
But for now?
You smile bitterly, uncaring who sees. Right now- there’s nothing more you want to do than scream. Yell. Anything to take away the fury and pain burning bright in your chest.
Your eyes fall on a couple as you pass them by, reminding you of the reason you’re out in the streets this late at night, instead of relaxing at home.
Jihyuk.
Your boyfriend.
Someone you had a deep admiration for. Someone you loved.
Someone who doesn’t feel the same way anymore.
It had all started when you had seen him come home hours later than usual. You gave him the benefit of the doubt. You told yourself that he must be out in town with his friends while you were at work, since he must’ve been bored alone. Because the deal is, he wasn’t employed. He had neither a job nor a penny in his bank account.
And that’s where you helped him. You were the worker. You put a roof over his head, you were the reason he had food on the plate everyday. You were there when he needed to buy anything. It felt more like you were a single parent providing for a child rather than a real, romantic relationship. And that should’ve been more than enough of a reason to leave him but you didn’t.
And now you regret it.
The next thing that came were the hickies on his neck. Purple bruises put on display, with his flushed cheeks- sometimes he was even drunk. Still, you helped him. Still, you gave him the benefit of a doubt, even when his ears turned red when you asked him if he was lying about just hanging out with friends.
Because there was no point in asking and answering. You already knew what he was doing, already saw the truth in his eyes.
And somehow still, everytime your friends would show you Jihyuk kissing some other girl, every time they’d tell you that they saw him out with some chick, you’d tell them they had to be seeing things. That the pictures could be photoshopped. Or maybe this was just a joke to make you dump him. But those things weren’t things you were saying to them, as much as it was to yourself, to convince your mind that what you saw or heard wasn’t it. It wasn’t the truth.
The truth is everything that has yet to be revealed today.
And at this point, you had gotten over the crying, the weeping, the sorrow and the regret. What is left is the anger- the feeling of being used.
You had given him everything, literally everything, only for him to treat you like some side doll. It hurt then. It hurt even now. It hurt a lot, especially on those nights, when you’d greet him after he came home, the smell of perfume thick on his body, lips bitten and swollen, cheeks red and flushed.
“Do you want dinner?” you’d ask, your eyes wandering anywhere but his face.
“Uh, no, I’m full. I ate out with friends, one of them treated the group.”
Lies. So many lies, told just so you’d keep him under your wing, protected and financially secured.
You smile widely even though inside, your heart wrenches. Why couldn’t he just tell you? It wasn’t like he thought you hadn’t noticed his aloof behaviour. How it affected you in turn.
Or did he? Maybe, he just thought that you were actually that dumb.
Maybe you really were that ignorant.
“Oh... okay. Well... I still have to eat,” you waited for this douche. You can’t believe it. Starved yourself so you could eat dinner with him when he probably was out with a girl. “So… do you want to talk as I eat?”
“Uhm,” his eyes met yours for a moment before he turned them away. “Uh- babe, I’m sorry… I’m tired after the long day, so,” he gave you a small smile. A smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “If you really want, I can go, but uh, let me take a shower first? Honestly… my, uh, friends can be so rowdy… I’m exhausted, but I guess you were waiting for me and all…”
You bit your lip as the warring thoughts of indignation, and yet also guilt filled you. “No- no, nevermind. If you’re tired,” you clenched your fists, “you should- go rest now.”
“Are you sure, babe? I wouldn’t want you to think I was avoiding you. Maybe I should-”
“No! No, I told you, I’ll be fine.”
“You’re the only person who understands and loves me best,” he praised you- and you felt a spark of fury, of hate and love grow in your chest. Was that all he could say to you? “See you tomorrow, then,” he said, his smile fainting away before walking past you to the bedroom. You stared at him until he left, until you couldn’t see him anymore as his silhouette disappeared upstairs.
The next day went similarly. You had arrived at your empty home.
Why?
Then there were days where you felt a little too insecure and asked him instead.
“Baby, are you… cheating on me?”
His body froze. He didn’t say anything for a moment, sitting on the couch as you had begged him a little earlier to watch a K-drama with you. Maybe it would’ve made the relationship a little better. Maybe you could’ve bonded. But he only seemed to be interested on his phone screen.
“What makes you say that?” Still, his eyes did not lift up to look at you.
“Eun says she saw you with this girl,” you muttered quietly, so quietly that you thought he wouldn’t have heard it. But he did. “She must have seen someone else,” he replied in a nonchalant manner.
“But it really looked like you, she said…”
“Do you believe her over me?” You watched him as he finally looked at you. “I’m your boyfriend, for God’s sake,” you bit your lip, then sighed heavily. It didn’t let all the words escape you. “I know, but…”
“If you want to end this relationship, I won’t stop you. But just know, you won’t find a better guy than me. After all, here I am, taking the time to watch with you, and you accuse me of cheating?”
Maybe you won’t find someone better. But even so, you knew that you didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve the late nights, wondering where he was, why he wasn’t home, if you’d done something wrong. No, you deserved better- and even if that better wasn’t from someone else, it certainly wouldn’t be from him.
Jihyuk huffed before standing up, wearing his coat and moments later, you heard the front door open and close. Moments of silence filled the room. You waited for Jihyuk expectantly, waiting for it to open and reveal him, but it didn’t.
“I wish I didn’t meet you.”
You are so over it. You are so over him.
You and Soojin had decided to catch him in the act. Your best friend had come up with the plan, and initially you had been in denial of it. But you had to end this cycle. You were so tired of it, of the constant stress you had to live with, of the burden that you weren’t supposed to carry.
You chose to set him up. If he agreed to Soojin’s advances, you were going to catch him red-handed and break it off right there and then.
And he had done exactly what you didn’t want him to.
Of course he had. You should’ve caught onto him a long time ago, but you really were a fool. And now that disgusted you. Hate intended for him enveloped you for your own self.
Walking into the dim-lit club, you are greeted by the sight of bodies pushing up against each other on the dance floor, the faint smell of alcohol lingering everywhere you step, and a bar, shining the brightest in the place. Silhouettes with their lips’ on one another, people drinking down glasses of liquor by each second that passed. A part of you is disgusted that Jihyuk took Soojin to a club, and the other isn’t surprised at all. No wonder the marks on his neck, his swollen lips.
Y/N: I’m here.
Soojin: Ok I’m in the bathroom hiding he was getting too close
Y/N: Right... lets meet up at the bar then.
Soojin: Ok!
Walking swiftly to the bar, you hope Jihyuk doesn’t see you, though in the wild crowd, you know he likely won’t.
You search for a familiar face as you reach the bar. Your eyes wander and land on the blonde that seems to be looking slightly lost.
“Soojin!” You call out and walk over to her, knowing fully well what is next. “Where is he?”
“Follow me,” you hear her voice above the loud music. Her disheveled figure makes its way to the seats. You can barely see her in the dark place, if not for the neon lightings flashing here and there.
You take a deep breath in.
Under a stray lighting, you catch sight of the hair you used to so fondly caress. Another one beside it, too close for them to be anything but sitting close, closer than friends, and definitely strangers. A few steps closer and you’d be close enough to see them clearly, close enough to catch him cheating perfectly.
Your heart feels numb, for a moment, contrary to before, but-
Three.
It’s funny how you can hear your heels echoing even in this noisy club. Or maybe that’s the beating of your heart.
Two.
Thinking back on everything that you’d gone through with him, if there’s any emotion that you think you should be feeling right now, it’s disbelief. Why? Did all the tender touches, all the kisses, all the ‘I love you’s mean nothing then?
It must, or else this wouldn’t be happening at all. One.
Yet even so, your ever traitorous heart still weeps at the sight before you, as your gazes both match.
Jihyuk’s eyes widen as he sees you. His lips are pressed to the side of a girl’s neck, and even under the dim lighting, you can see the dark splotches of color on her pale skin. The girl beside him whimpers, leaning in closer, seeking his touches, the way he used to make you feel oh so good, your mind whispers.
He only pushes her away, frozen in place as he locks you down with guilt in his eyes.
The loud, deafening music somehow doesn’t matter anymore.
“Y/N,” his voice can barely be heard, but for someone like you who’s watched him utter your name with adoration before, you hear him perfectly.
"Well… I guess I’m not that surprised.” Your words are dry, devoid of feeling. Your fists are clenched. Your smile is wry. “What do you have to say for yourself?" you are going to do this quick, you tell yourself. But the crowd of people overhearing the matter already have their eyes on you.
As it is, even people lost in the rhythm of the club’s music are interested in your confrontation, bodies stopping in motion, only for strange eyes to stare at you with curiosity instead.
It’s scary. You can’t do this, a part of you wants to say- but how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone and felt the butterflies dance in your stomach, telling a tale so similar to the one of your lips? How long has it been since you’ve wanted to do something like that?
Your heart burns.
Truth be told, too long. Too fucking long. You’ve spent too much time in misery for you to turn your back on the person that brought you it. You want to be free. Breathe air without feeling suffocated, sleep without having to think about a person being next to you as you do so.
Free, at last.
“I-” he tries to speak, but you look at him quietly, face devoid of any emotion, only your lips tightening a clue to your current mood.
“Don’t you feel like shit? Leaving me alone on those nights when I actually put a roof over your head, when I’m the main reason you get to eat food every day? Why did you do this to me?”
You know you sound desperate. Here he is, clearly in the arms of another, yet you’re asking him, staring at him, waiting for an answer, an excuse, but he is able to give none. It only makes it all the worse, it only makes you gasp for more air, because each time he doesn’t reply, the walls get tighter and tighter.
“Fuck, if you wanted someone to give you a good time in bed, why couldn’t it have been me? We were in a relationship!” you exclaim. More people are gathering around, but at this point, you can’t care less.
“Could you not control yourself for once?! Do you have no shame coming home each day smelling like sex? Do you not love me?” The last words leave you as a whisper, your voice choked up and your tone vulnerable. It is evident he didn’t love you, if he did then he wouldn’t have done this. But you still wanted to ask. In case there was the smallest chance that he would give you something to hold onto.
“What about the times that you lied? Do you have no heart?” A single tear slips down your cheek.
Fuck. You hate this.
Seconds pass, and nothing but his silence answers you. And when he does- it does nothing but rile you even further.
“Babe…” There’s the guilt in his eyes, that’s true, but it’s eclipsed by the panic, the way he’s obviously trying to assuage your anger. Instead of just admitting it. Instead of asking for your forgiveness.
Not that you would at this point, even if he begged on his knees.
“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he winces and you sharply smile.
“What, you can, but I can’t? Besides, shouldn’t I be the one telling you that? There I was, wondering where my boyfriend was, someone without a job staying out so late without even a message,” you laugh, as though the entire matter is funny to you, but anyone can easily hear the mockery in your voice. “Then I find out he’s in a club, busy whoring himself out.”
He bristles at that, guilt fading into anger as he stands up. “I’m whoring myself out?”
“Well, what else would you call it? You certainly don’t have any money, after all, not even to afford partying at this club. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that why you ask me for money?” At that, you turn to face his previously ignored companion. Seeing the surprise and growing disgust against your soon-to-be-ex, you ask her gently. It’s all too obvious she didn’t know, after all. And as angry as you are, you won’t blame her for something that’s not her fault.
“Miss, dare I ask, did he have you pay for the drinks?”
She startles, but answers you steadily after a moment. “No, not at the start… but he did insist we pay for our own drinks, and then later on, he told me he left his wallet at home…” Realization colors her features as he reddens in embarrassment and anger. “That asshole, I must have spent more than a hundred dollars by now!”
“Tsk, tsk,” you mockingly shake your head at him, a part of you roaring at the highly humiliated look on his face. Just a glance downwards, and you can see how his fists are clenched, perhaps as tight as yours, veins already bulging out. Just a little more, and you could get him to explode. “Here I was, all but raising you, looking after you and feeding you, taking care of you, and you can’t even learn to have basic decency. Maybe I should feel ashamed, after all… more than being a couple in a relationship, our relationship turned more like mother and son, didn’t it?”
At the very end of your words, you raise your head, laughing. Jihyuk’s face colors to the point that it’s almost violet, and you feel vindictive satisfaction fill you.
“Y/N, you bitch!”
“What,” you scoff. “Did I say something wrong?”
If glares could kill, Jihyuk’s would have long gutted you, but it doesn’t, so you continue to hold your head high, smiling nonchalantly.
His next words make you hiss.
“If you weren’t always so busy, I wouldn’t have to look for someone else. When you came home, you never want to have sex with me, so why is it my fault if I look for someone else, huh!?”
You feel the flames inside you consume you even further, raging inside you and there’s nothing you can do to help relieve yourself of it. Before you know it, you’re stepping forward, arms being raised-
All you want is to make him hurt, like he did you, even if it’s only a fraction of what he’s made you feel. That motherfucker, daring to place the blame on you!?
Hell no.
Hitting him all that matters at the moment- that’s all that runs through your head- but then you suddenly find yourself unable to move, restrained. When you look back, you see Soojin’s face, twisted in worry.
“Soojin, please, let me go!” You hiss furiously, struggling in her hold, trying to get away. Yet, to her credit, Soojin keeps a tight hold on you, not letting you take another step forward. “Are you seriously stopping me from hitting him!? Are you taking his side!?” You ask her in disbelief, even if you know it’s not like that.
“Y/N, I’m not!” Immediately she shakes her head, yet she doesn’t let you go. “But you know you can’t start this here, you-” she bites down on her red lip, shaking her head. “You can’t. Please, you know he’s crazy, what if he hurts you!”
It doesn’t matter, I’m already hurt where it matters most anyway! You want to shout at her, but then you change your mind, glaring at the man you were once stupid enough to call yours.
“If I was ever busy, or tired, I hope you realize that it was always for you! And if I didn’t want to have sex, what did that have to do with you cheating!? Do promises mean nothing to you!? I never asked you for anything more than you being faithful to me, even when you kept asking me for money, even when you lived free at my house, even when you made me into your personal bank and caretaker! You asshole, motherfucker, I hope you rot in hell where cheaters like you belong!”
“Shut up!” He yells back at you, beginning to step forward, and Soojin is dragging you away- but you hold your ground. Let him come, if he wants-
“Shut up!? How can I when I’m not even done yelling about what you did! What, are you ashamed now!?” Only a step away. “How can there be someone as stupid as you who dares to cheat but can’t admit they did!?” His hand raised, curled into a fist. “Not only that, you just took advantage of me because I loved you! You no good, lying, coward-”
You see his punch descending down on you now, yet still you stubbornly look up at him, gritting your teeth. You won’t say sorry, if he wants to punch you, then let him punch you.
Yet still, at the last second, your eyes shut by themselves. You’re angry, yes, you’re furious, but it doesn’t take away the fact that you’re well aware Jihyuk’s stronger, and you’ve never been punched before-
A second passes. You feel nothing. Not the feel of his hand against your face, not the harsh, stinging pain that’d come with it, not the screams of Soojin as she cried.
Two seconds pass. Time is a mere fraction of what it used to be, and yet it’s slowly returning to you as you open your eyes, realizing you were seemingly waiting for nothing at all.
Three seconds pass. Your eyes land on the stranger holding Jihyuk’s wrist with a strong grip, brows furrowed with an intimidating scowl on his face. You step back out of fear.
“I assume, when you came in, you knew the rules of this bar,” the stranger says, voice low, a certain weight behind his every word. “No starting fights. What makes you think you’re an exception to that?”
“Let me go!” Jihyuk hisses, struggling to free his arm from the stranger, yet the other just easily holds him back. “Fuck, you heard what that bitch said about me!?”
“You mean, your ex?” The stranger sighs. “I don’t know if you’re just as stupid as she said you were, if you don’t realize that it’s your fault-”
Whatever he says next, you don’t hear, as you take this advantage to step forward-
-and slap Jihyuk as hard you can.
Your palms immediately sting, but you can’t be bothered to care about that, not when you see the bright red imprint left behind on his face, and the stunned look on his face. Grinning viciously, you hiss at him.
“That’s just a part of the pain you owe me, but considering you’re too dumb to understand something as simple as respect, I’ll just take this as payment.”
“From now on, I want you to fuck off and never appear in front of me again.”
The ringing silence that follows makes you feel like you can finally breathe again.
“... Satisfied?” The unknown man raises a brow at you- and your heart skips a beat for the first time in a while as you swallow, finally calming down a little... It’s loud, crashing, dizzying all at once but you nod at him. Your hands are trembling. You’re about ready to cry but still.
The rest of the words your now ex screams out blur out into the background as Soojin thanks the stranger, leading you away.
The rest of the events happen in what feels to be a flashback you get as you’re taking a sip of beer from the cup leisurely.
The stranger, Jungkook, he had told you his name, was told by your best friend about the problem. He called security, but came first to mediate just in case. After that, he let them take care of Jihyuk. The crowd around you dispersed upon finding out that the scene you had created was over, and Soojin went home after giving you the tightest hug someone had given you in a while now.
Though she tried to persuade you to go home too, you were in obviously no mood to go home- where every inch of the walls was filled with the presence of your- your ex.
It was only after a lot of convincing and reassuring her that you were safe with Jungkook did she leave, her own baby calling for her.
And you stayed at the bar, quietly watching Jungkook work.
During that time, you find out that he’s, overall, a nice guy. He has a cute smile that shows off his teeth perfectly, dark hair that you could imagine him brushing through with his hand, and the cutest, biggest eyes you’ve seen, like a deer caught in the headlights. Adorable.
What surprises you is that he works as a bartender at this place. Which does make sense now that you think about it. But between your dunk mind and slurred words, every little piece of logic is thrown aside.
He had asked if you wanted him to walk you home. You being… well, you, denied almost immediately. Tonight seemed like a good night to get wasted, after all.
“Whatever you say… but you do have the keys to your apartment, right?” the dark-haired man asks, face resting on his hand. He blinks at you under the bright lights of the bar, staring as you take another sip of the alcohol. “Just so your ex doesn’t get in?”
“Of course, I locked it too,” you roll your eyes slightly, glare set on the table below you as you seethe, remembering him. “He’s probably gonna stay at some friend’s place for the night, the jerk. I hope he does, all his friends live miles away. I took the car keys so he can’t drive either, only either walk or take a cab. And considering he barely has any money left...”
You smirk.
A fleeting smile touches on Jungkook’s face as he regards you with awe. “Huh. I guess you put more to your plan than just charging in and breaking up with him, huh?”
“I’m heartbroken, not stupid. It’s an emotional stupidity, not a mental one.”
You huff, once again laying your head back on the cool glass of the table. Fuck, you’re tired. Not just emotionally, but also physically. The night’s events leave you wanting nothing but to stay and drink your sorrows away, uncaring in which bed you’ll be waking up tomorrow.
After all, it’s not like you’ve been to any besides your own for the past few months. Maybe that will bring you some variety at least. The thought makes you laugh bitterly, and in turn down another glass of alcohol.
You hear someone sigh beside you.
“...Right,” he mutters in response, eyes widening shortly after you take another huge gulp of your drink. You suppose, if anything, Jungkook knows how to make delicious drinks. “Don’t drink too much, Y/N, you’re already-” you watch with droopy eyes as he reaches out to you, your head only propped up by your elbow, before stopping with a sigh. “You’re already drunk.”
Ignoring him momentarily, you finish your drink, savoring the taste.
“Sh-shhhuddap,” you slur, the end of your words becoming a sigh. You set the cup aside, only for your head to plop back onto the bar table, a deep breath making your chest rise up- then down. Jungkook frowns at your small figure laying over the bar, the frown forming into a quiet pout.
“Let me… lemme just drink a little bit more, m-m’kay? ’ll jus…jus’ drink ‘nough to not f-feel...”
Whatever words you’re about to say dissolve into incoherent mumblings as you yawn, feeling the effects of numerous glasses of alcohol finally taking their toll on you.
“‘Night, Kook...”
When you wake up, your surroundings are awfully quiet, awfully dark. That is, until you rub your eyes and can see straight. Jungkook’s body comes into view, hand shaking you awake. His low whispers are barely addressed by your ears, and you numb them out until he kneels down to meet eye to eye with you.
Then a sweet smile plays on his lips, and wow.
For a moment, you wonder if this is what heaven feels like.
Then he flicks your forehead, and you’re hurtled back to earth.
“Good, you’re finally awake,” he remarks, smile turning wry on his face. You pout in response, getting up. Your head hurts, it hurts bad, and there seems to be nothing you can do about it as you lean over the bar for support.
“So… urgh, so tired… feeling sick,” you utter beneath your breath, sighing when you realize Jungkook heard it.
“Why’d you even get wasted then? You’ll have to deal with it now,” he frowns, patting your back.
“You don’t get it, dumbass. I’m trying not to remember my ex?” you cross your arms, eyes wandering the place.
The club’s a lot less crowded now, barely any people left except for the ones who are cleaning it up. The music is quieter, playing softly in the background as you turn to Jungkook. Closing time already, you guess.
“... sorry,” you finally say, feeling remorse make space in your heart. “I don’t mean to be so crabby, but fuck, I just feel-” You scrunch up your nose as you try to mull over what you say next. “Actually, I don’t even know what I’m feeling. Except- what the fuck was I thinking, letting it go on for so long?”
Jungkook hums, shrugging. “Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has their own stupid moments. I completely understand.”
“Yeah, and mine lasted for god knows how many years,” you grumble.
For a moment he pauses, and you watch him put away bottles.
“You know, you fell asleep quickly earlier,” he suddenly mentions, making you flush. Ah. Right.
“Oh… yeah, I’m sorry about that,” you sigh. “I must’ve caused you a lot of trouble, having to look after me while you’re also busy with your work.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You just broke up with your boyfriend of how many years again?”
“Besides,” he continues, smiling. “If anything, your performance earlier more than made up for it. His face when you slapped him was hilarious.”
That startles a laugh out of you. “It was, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “... You looked amazing then too.”
“Thanks. … to be honest, just a single slap wasn’t enough, so I definitely had to make it count,” you say, scoffing at the end.
“Yeah, I figured,” the hint of laughter in his voice makes even you smile. “You didn’t yell at him enough, huh?”
“Nope,” you emphatically shake your head. “Which is a shame, because let me tell you- I have a whole speech in my head for him and his douche-assery. I didn’t even touch on the other major fuck ups he did!”
At that, he really does laugh, and you can’t help grinning yourself. “No, I mean it! I was hyping myself up all evening, but then when I actually saw him, my head blanked and- damn it, I should have let him have it even more in front of all those people,” you dramatically groan.
A smile forms on Jungkook’s face, even his eyes curved into a pair of crescent moons and somehow, it makes you somehow feel better just by looking at it.
“Well, there’s only the two of us left inside now, but if you want, I’ll listen to your speech,” he nonchalantly states.
“What, really?”
“Really.” He takes a deep breath, turning your body around so you completely face him. “C’mon, shout at me. Vent. I’m the bartender, I’ll listen. Besides, I’m curious to hear how terrible this guy was that you went so far to set him up.”
Reluctantly listening to the alcohol, you sigh before you start listing off all the reasons for why you’ve never felt okay with your relationship with Jihyuk. Jungkook hums and nods along in all the right pauses, quietly telling you to continue.
“... and not just that, he never came home when I needed him most, ghosted me on dates, forgot our anniversary two years in a row, made me break off friendships, never once paid for his own food, never made me cum even once. Like, what a dick!? And I mean the bad kind, not the good one-”
“Wait wait wait…” Jungkook raises a brow, stopping you. “He- He never… made you cum? Not even once?” He stares at you in bewilderment, shaking his head with a smile of disbelief. “He must’ve really had it good,” he crosses his arms.
“I know, right,” you moan. “What was past me thinking? At this point, I don’t think any man will ever treat me right.”
The man shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe the next one will.”
You feel the urge to laugh at the ridiculous statement, though you hold it back. “You’re kidding, right? I’m never getting a boyfriend ever again,” you huff, shaking your head in disapproval. “Boys, pfft- no, thank you.”
Jungkook only turns his back to you in response, walking to the stools of the bar. He huffs loudly as he sits back down, and you can barely contain your laughter before it bursts out of you, ringing loud in the club. Nudging him by the arm to get his attention, you try your best to turn him around, but when he doesn’t, you move to sit next to him instead, on the bartop. The cool glass makes you initially shiver, but you don’t let it show.
“Did you say something?” You grin as you look at him, at the way he rolls his eyes just a little. “I know I heard you say something.”
“It was nothing,” he scoffs.
“Come on,” you cajole him. “You listened to me earlier and let me rant. I’m not going to laugh or be snarky, I swear.”
A moment passes, while you wait for him to speak up. At this point, the silence of the bar is comfortable, though while you look around, you see that no one else is left inside but the two of you.
“...-y’know?”
You look back at him. “Hm?”
“I think it’s just a little sad to declare that every guy out there is hopeless, because of one jerk,” he repeats, back turned to you as he fiddles with the display case.
You lean back on the bartop. “I guess so,” you say. “But it’s true that it’s disillusioning. I used to have high expectations when the relationship started, you know- but now that I ended it, it’s like- what happened? When did my expectations get so low? I deserve better, you know?”
“But it didn’t seem that way to me then. He seemed so great, so amazing… and now here we are. It scares me a little to think that I might fall for someone, only to find out how much of a jerk they are years down the road.”
“But you’ve got to try again, don’t you?” He softly says. “After all, you said it yourself. You deserve better.”
At that, he finally faces you - before glancing down and turning away just as quickly.
“Eventually, though,” he clarifies, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m not saying you should right now. Just that you shouldn’t give up on love.”
You chuckle softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”
Quiet fills the room again, a comfortable one. You watch Jungkook clean the last of the bar, wiping the surfaces and glasses.
And as you do, you can’t help but think of something a little too inappropriate.
‘I wonder how it’d feel to ride him.’
Okay, maybe it’s absolutely inappropriate. But it’s not your fault, you tell yourself. Not when Jungkook looks that good. Clad in a neat outfit with a silk black vest and a cute bow tie around his neck, he seemed as though he was a five star meal- and you feel yourself starving.
It really doesn’t help that you haven’t had sex in months, nor have you orgasmed in that time. You need release, one way or another.
Still, it’s bad form to ask him, this kind bartender who literally was just consoling you moments ago from a nasty break up if he wants to fuck, so you try to keep the thought down, but-
You extend your leg, toes barely brushing against his back, watching as he shudders at your touch.
Oh?
You bite your lips to stop yourself from grinning.
“Hey Jungkook… why aren’t you facing me?” “I-I need to clean up the bar,” he huffs, but you hear the slight stammer in his voice, and oh, does it make you feel even bolder.
“Yeah,” you nonchalantly respond, “but you’d think you could at least try to appear like you’re listening to me, especially when we were having such a good chat.”
“You-” He stops, sighing, and you goad him even further, slowly feeling more sure the longer he hesitates.When he turns around- finally- you laugh as you slide your arms to rest on his shoulders, trapping him in front of you.
Furthermore, you cross your legs, a daring smirk on your face as you lean forward and over him close, close enough that as you look down at him, the tip of your noses brush against each other. The slight tremors that you elicit out of him at this close range doesn’t escape your notice, and you feel a rush of giddiness fill you up.
“You know, you were so insistent earlier, when we talked about what I deserved. But considering my past experiences, that feels a little hard to believe… do you think you can convince me otherwise?” You hum, fluttering your eyelashes at him. To his credit, Jungkook stills for only a moment, onyx eyes staring straight back at you. As if to ask permission, as if to wait for your next move. But you only continue to smile, letting him know you want this, asking him if he wants it.
Just as you think he’ll pull away, he only answers you back with a smirk of his own- and then, you can’t help but be entranced by the sudden, daring gleam in his eyes. Just as your arms are perched on his shoulders, you feel fingers gently trace over the edges of your lips.
“Why don’t you find out?”
You wouldn’t, normally. One night stands aren’t your thing. You rarely give your heart away, and even more your body.
But tonight, staring at the man in front of you, the challenge and interest visible in his eyes, you find yourself wanting to do otherwise.
Maybe I will, you think.
And then you dip down to kiss him.
Immediately, you can taste the hint of mint on his lips, the sweet aftertaste of what seems to be banana milk- it’s strange and surprising, not exactly what you’d think a bartender would taste like. It isn’t something you’ve tasted on someone else before either, but as his tongue glides over your lips, silently asking for permission, you find yourself coming to like the flavor. Especially when he kisses you hard enough to make you feel like you’re drowning.
You whimper in pleasure when you suddenly feel him press his bulge against your core for one moment, breaking the kiss only to groan again as he repeats the gesture, grinding your lower bodies together. You can only hold on to his back as tight as you can, feeling the rising tides of lust slowly pull you under its current. A breathless moan leaves you, echoing loudly in the quiet of the empty bar.
“Got something to say, sweetheart?” Jungkook coos, and the words are soon accompanied by a sharp pain on your neck, something that makes the pleasure taste all the more sweeter in comparison. That doesn’t even take into account his hands, which you now notice to be gliding over your stomach, stopping under your breasts as he fondles them and makes you arch back in pleasure for a moment.
“God, just continue doing that,” You whine out and he pauses to laugh, smirk turning into something softer, but just as wild. “Jungkook,” he corrects you, flicking your nipple and you flinch as a sharp wave of pleasure rushes over you. “Don’t call out anybody else’s name but mine, or I’ll punish you.”
‘How can I think about anybody else when you’re making me feel so good right now?’ You almost tell him that, you want to tell him that, but as Jungkook switches his attention from your collarbones to your breasts, tongue lavishing over each mound equally, you find your thoughts slipping away from you.
You don’t even register that you’re being pushed to lie back until the cold glass makes you jerk - and Jungkook firmly keeps you pinned down, another moan leaving you as you feel his fingers probe against your core. You feel him place butterfly kisses down your legs, the touch light yet the effects tremendous on you as you shiver and tremble from each one.
“We barely started and you’re already this wet, huh,” he grins as he slides a finger up your panty, where your slit would be. Juice already coats his finger well, and even though he only teases you against your panties, you find that you’re sensitive, too sensitive not to feel even more turned on by such a small gesture. “Or were you already wet earlier? What a naughty girl.”
“Fffffuck,” you groan, thrusting against his fingers so that they rub against you harder. “Just slip it in already,” you whimper. “Don’t be a fucking tease.”
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Jungkook purrs as he flicks your nub, making you clench hard at the frustration and anticipation. It infuriates you even more when you feel his fingers leave your skirt, and he leans away a little. You can clearly see the smirk on his face again, amusement swimming with lust in his eyes. “You weren’t being so nice earlier either. Maybe if you were a good girl, I’d listen.”
At that, you pull yourself up, coming closer to him until you bite his shoulder, leaving marks over his neck as well as you can under the raging pleasure. “Or you can listen now, before I make you regret it.” You roll your hips against his, relishing in the quiet groan that leaves him as the delicious friction threatens to drown you both in pleasure.
Honestly, in the face of Jungkook’s ministrations, you find it’s all too easy to let yourself loose, to want more.
You’re surprised when he bends, pushing you back down - and the flash of pain and pleasure on the inner part of your thighs makes you hiss.
“What are you doing?”Jungkook’s answer is light, but the cocky tone is all too evident anyway. “Didn’t you challenge me to make you cum?” Another hickey blooms on your thighs and you whimper as he leaves a trail of them on his way down. “So I’ve made it my mission to make you cum as much as I can tonight.” You feel his nose nudge your panty and you can’t help groaning in anticipation. “Starting with eating you out.”
“You don’t mind, do you?”
“A-Ah, I’ve never been eaten out before,” you stammer, heart beating fast as you can clearly feel his hair brush against your skin. Lust, excitement, and yet also nerves envelop you then.
For some reason, you can’t help but feel a little self conscious. No one, not even your past boyfriends have done this, after all.
Still, Jungkook only chuckles. “How mean. There I was, making you drinks the whole night, but you won’t even let me have a taste of you now that I’m thirsty.” You can’t see him over the skirt you’re wearing- why, again, are you still wearing it- but you can imagine the chiding smile, the mischief in his eyes. Especially when you feel him blow on you down there, making you shudder.
“Look, you’re even overflowing. Bet you’d taste sweeter and better than any wine here.”
With that, your skirt is taken off, and you gasp as you suddenly taste something on your lips. Yet that isn’t the end of it as for some reason, you suck on his fingers, imagining it to be his cock.
Fuck, you taste good.
Just as that thought reaches you, you think- you want to taste him too.
“Can I, sweetheart?” He asks you again. “I’ll make you feel good.” There’s a chuckle in his words, but before he can say anything more, you tug him up.“Wanna taste you too,” you admit, before blushing. Still, you continue. “So get up here.”
“On the bar top? Kinky,” he grins, but follows your instructions. Moving so that your whole body is laid down on the bartop, you hiss as the cool temperature of the glass makes itself known to your thighs. Not for long though- as the warmth of Jungkook’s body envelops you moments later.
In this position, Jungkook’s crotch faces you, and you find your mouth watering over it. Eager hands cup it for a moment, before you pull down the zipper and admire his member.
God, even his dick is pretty.
Long and veined, what it lacked in girth, the slight curve certainly made up for it. You immediately took it into your mouth, moaning around it when you felt him move your panties to the side and immediately dived in.
On Jungkook’s side - he loves it, every single second of it. He loves how he can make you a mess, how he can wreck you, you bucking up your hips to meet him as you suck and moan around his dick. There is something about you that he couldn’t help but be attracted to. He can’t believe your ex had cheated on you. Just from that moment in which you confronted your ex, he could sense that you were far, far more better than any girl he had ever seen.
Moans and whimpers filled the room as you tremble under Jungkook. Every lap of his tongue, sucking on your nub- hell, just the way he moves his tongue inside your walls is enough to make you push your thighs together.
The pleasure inside you only rises higher and higher, making you continuously grind your hips against his face. True, it’s the first time someone’s eaten you out, but all the same you know you wouldn’t cum just from it if the other person wasn’t good enough.
Jungkook aims to go beyond your expectations it seems. In response, you take him in even deeper, slightly gagging on his dick. One hand reaches out to fondle his balls, rolling them over your hand. Soft, pliant in your hold. You squeeze them slightly, and a sense of accomplishment fills you as you feel him physically stutter, thrusting his dick deeper into you. Jungkook is obviously way more experienced though, or perhaps it’s a sense of competitiveness that’s driving him to make sure you come first, because as you feel something inside you continue to tighten - you pant, recognizing the signs of an impending orgasm. A distant part of you is amazed you could reach an orgasm so quickly - the other is very, very pleased.
“I’m... so close,” you say through uneven breaths, chasing your high. His tongue works at an even faster pace, making you cry out in pleasure. Your walls tighten around his finger, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel it. “Then come for me, sweetheart,” you hear him say.
And that does it.
White warmth, inside and out. Your lower body jerks against him, but Jungkook only rides out your orgasm with you, lapping up the juices that gush from you, the messy sounds of slurping and sucking turning you on even more, if that’s possible. You feel feverish, your oversensitive clit being given a little too much attention. What more, the feeling of your body contrasting against the cold surface of the bartop, shivering a little when his finger traces the curves of your body as you continue to feel the last trembles from your orgasm.When
he finally leans back, Jungkook smiles at the glistening digit and licks his fingers clean. You taste even better than he thought. Truly, you’re an angel. Just as he prepares to get off of you, you give one good suck to his dick, making him jerk. For you, you can feel his hard member twitch in your mouth - and it doesn’t take much to figure out that Jungkook himself is close to release. Still, as he lets out a quiet groan, he moves away. You make to protest, but-
The way he quickly moves on top of you, fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt and grinding his member against your core makes you moan, long and loud.
“I don’t wanna cum just yet,” his voice is distinctively lower now, and something heady rushes through you at the realization that you did that. He hisses when you experimentally roll your hips back against him.
Hunger like you’ve never known spreads across you like a wildfire. You want all of what Jungkook has to offer.
“You ready, sweetheart?” He cooes. “You’ll have to be quiet if I put it in, don’t want anyone else hearing how beautiful you sound when I’m fucking you thoroughly.”
Instead of answering, you meet him up in an eager kiss, your hands spreading across his chest - God, you don’t know when he unbuttoned his shirt, but you’re definitely thankful he did. Otherwise, how could you so clearly feel the muscles on his smooth skin?
And then you feel him enter you and fuck.
If what you felt before was something new, then this was definitely out of this world.
Jungkook’s dick fills you up just perfect, the wetness of your vagina and the slick on his dick makes the slide inside so much smoother, and both of you sigh in pleasure. For a moment, you’re both content to lie like that, just basking in the feeling of being connected to each other.
He himself doesn’t know how to explain it, how you differ from others. Everything you do somehow seems to draw him in, and in this moment- he feels like he could just stay like that forever and be content.
You, on the other hand, feel different.
“Jungkook, please, move already,” you eventually plead. Your body arches up as he pulls out for a moment, before beginning to thrust his hips into you at a fast rate, clearly giving you no mercy. Fuck, how in the hells did you ever think any previous sex you had could compare with this?
It’s easy to lose all coherence in this moment, the overwhelming feeling of bliss making you think of nothing but Jungkook’s dick, and the way he drags it against your walls, teasing you before slamming it inside, drawing out the pleasure and then drowning you in it.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounds in the empty room, alongside your mixed groans and whimpers. Jungkook spares you no mercy, and you soon find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, this one even more intense than the last. It doesn’t help that you feel him leave hickeys over your chest, biting and then soothing them afterwards, sliding his tongue over them. Tears prick your eyes as the pain and the pleasure mix together, making each feeling all the more intense to you.
Fuck, where had he been all your life? You’ve never felt so good in sex- not like this, not with your previous encounters. But right here and right now, you swear that if there’s a god, then Jungkook must have been his favorite, and you were blessed to have been touched by him.
“J-Jungkook, I-I’m coming again-!” Rather than slow down, it seems your words just urge him to fuck you harder, faster, making you sob as another wave of pleasure threatens to drown you under.
“Then come all you want,” he growls, dragging you into a fierce kiss, wanting to taste you- but also to silence you.
“A-Ah!” You scream out, panting, as you ride another wave of orgasm-
The harsh smack on your bottom makes you jerk off the table with a sob. Jungkook hisses as he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty- but not for too long, as you’re turned over, and he shoves his cock back inside your hole. You moan, long and loud in pleasure, before you feel another smack on your bottom.
“What part of ‘keep quiet’ didn’t you understand?” He reprimands you sternly, each word accentuated by a hit on your bottom that makes you jerk, each time. “I told you to be quiet, or we’d both get in trouble. There’s still the club’s bodyguard standing outside. If he heard us, how much do you want to bet he’d come in and see your pretty little body all laid out under me, huh?”
“I-” You try to explain, but end up heaving deep breaths instead as he thrusts his hips particularly hard, leaving you a whimpering mess as you drop your head onto the table again, the ache at the back of our head barely being addressed by your numb mind.
“You what?” He growls, hands snaking forward to pull your head back with your hair- making you groan as he lowers himself right next to your ear. “You what, Y/N? Got nothing to say right now?”
He tsks. “Or maybe him seeing you is what you want. How many hours has it been since we just met, and how you’re gladly taking up my cock in your cunt right now? I guess you’re nothing but a slut.”
“I-I,” You try again, but all that remains in your head is him calling you a slut. The humiliation it draws from you, reddening your cheeks, somehow only serves to make you feel even more aroused. You can’t think of anything else, but how to just push yourself back into Jungkook’s dick because clearly, he is drawing it out and depriving you of what you need!
“What are you, Y/N?” his voice is hoarse as he asks, his dark hair a mess that covers his beautiful face. “...Wanting others to see you looking so pretty for me,” the knot in your stomach tightens as you try to think of a reply, yet nothing comes. Fuck fuck fuck.
“I don’t, I-” you stop. You can’t, you just can’t, if you don’t get what you want right now, you might as well die.
“Disappointing,” he clicks his tongue dismissively, and you feel your eyes burn out of desperation. “And here I thought you’d be good for me?”
“I’m sssssorrryyyy!” You whine out when he won’t let you off, the tears falling down your face now. “I’m a slut! A fucking slut! Your slut,” you cry out. “P-Please, put it back innn!”
“Mm, I still don’t know,” he drawls. “I already warned you to be good earlier, but you just kept on pushing me. And now you clearly disobeyed me. Only good girls, not sluts, get rewards, don’t you think?”
“I’m s-sorry,” you repeat, whimpering. “Please, I can be good, so please-!”
Hands rub your bottom, a slight sting reminding you that he’d already hit you there earlier. Yet somehow all it did was make you even more sensitive to not just the pain, but also heightening the pleasure you felt.
“If you take your punishment obediently, I might let you off,” he suddenly offers. Jungkook’s voice has become sweet again, soft and sticky and coaxing. Not that you need it though, considering he has you in his palms either way.
Not to mention that the thought of the punishment at hand makes your core throb.
You bite your lips, hoping that he doesn’t see how flushed you are. You don’t doubt that you’re dripping down so much on the glass bartop that at this point, that there must be a puddle right below your cunt. But at the thought of what he’s about to do, you feel yourself secreting even more. “Oh?” He chuckles, dragging a finger along your clit. At this point your labia are puffed up, swollen with Jungkook’s relentless attacks on it, but still it doesn’t hide how aroused you are at this moment. All it is is overly sensitive, and still asking for more.
“Seems to me that you like that, huh? I guess I was right. Being good doesn’t suit you at all, slut,” he tsks. “You just wanted to get punished.”
“I-I can take it,” you meekly tell him, shaking your ass a little. At the sight, Jungkook smirks wickedly. “Alright then. I want you to count each strike, sweetheart. And if you lose count, we’ll be starting all over again. … Do you understand that?”
Near the end, you hear Jungkook’s tone soften, and it’s all too easy to hear the way out he’s offering you. You want it, though. “H-How many?”
He pauses, before continuing. “How many do you think you deserve?”
You swallow loudly. “I… I don’t know.” You bite your lips. “I’ve, uh- I’ve never been spanked like this before.”
You feel embarrassment course through your veins for a moment as Jungkook freezes, and you wonder if you should’ve just said a random number-
But then the loud smack of a hand against your ass rings out loud in the room, and you jerk wildly against the bartop, a silent scream in your throat.“Until I say stop, then. That was one already,” Jungkook purrs.
You whimper, but nod along as he starts.
Smack!
“Two!”
Smack!
“T-Three!”!
Smack!
“F-Four,” you whimper.
At each hit of his hand against your ass, you can’t help moaning, louder with each one. Jungkook’s hands are swift, and absolute- no mercy left for you, only his feather-light gentle caresses after each hit making you weep.
At the eight count, you’re absolutely gone, panting, a mess of tears and pain and pleasure and overall just too fucking sensitive. But the sheer amount of thrill and joy that settles in you as Jungkook finally stops is just short of euphoria, and you look up at him, your eyes pleading for his praise and reassurance.
Sure enough, Jungkook doesn’t disappoint.
He slides you off the counter and into his arms, your legs crossed around his, into a long, sweet kiss, swallowing up the sounds that leave your lips, the little whimpers and groans.
“You took your punishment so well,” he compliments you as he pulls back, making you preen. “I suppose you deserve a reward then, don’t you?”
“P-Please,” you plead, rutting your core against his erect cock. It slides against your core all too easily, making you groan. Still, you don’t dare put it inside, waiting for Jungkook’s permission first.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins, and-
Jungkook’s kiss swallows up the scream that leaves you as he thrusts back into your hole in one smooth movement, bringing you back into that land of sheer pleasure and lust.
In this position, held up in the air only by his arms, you keenly feel every movement of his cock inside you as he bounces you, forcing you to go up and down repeatedly. You’re almost delirious, your hands no doubt leaving scratch marks on his body as you hold him as tight as you can, feeling everything just too much.
It doesn’t take more than a minute or two to bring you to your third orgasm. It seems that Jungkook himself senses that as well, because the moment you feel it coming, he speeds up his thrusts again, making you scream.
“J-Jungkook!!” You wail out his name as one final jerk of his hips brings you crashing down, bliss enveloping you fully as you almost white out, spasming and losing control of your body for a moment.
When you come to, a second later, you feel him desperately moving in you, but the stuttered way he does so tells you all you need to know.
“W-Where should I cum?” He grits the words out his teeth, and you hiss in pleasure, in over-sensitivity and pain as his member remains inside of you even after you’ve orgasmed for the third time. You’re determined to get him to come as well though, something warm blazing in your chest. You don’t owe favors, and you won’t anymore, so maybe that’s the reason why.
For whatever reason it truly is, though, you tell him with a steady voice. “Just come inside me,” you give him permission. Jungkook groans at that, looking straight at you, as if to ask, are you sure?
You nod, drawing him into a sweet kiss. There’s nothing but elation inside you at this moment.
When you squeeze his member inside your cunt, you moan as you feel him paint your walls white, something hot and warm and sticky filling up your cunt. If your nails didn’t leave marks before, well, they had to by now.
It’s only when you feel it drip out of you that you finally pull back from the kiss.The both of you are panting, visibly exhausted, though you’re pretty sure Jungkook can still run a lap around the club, while you’re all ready to collapse on the floor. Fuck, where does he get all that stamina from?
“I work out at the gym.” The amusement visible in his eyes as he answers you tells you that you probably spoke out loud. Sheesh.
“Yeah, you were.” Jungkook’s chuckle brings your attention back to him, and you blush for the first time since a while now, burying your head in the crook of his shoulder. Honestly, if you tried to move right now, you don’t doubt you’d just lay down on the floor, so you opt to remain in his hold.
That decision definitely wasn’t influenced by how secure you felt in his arms, or how good he smelt, even after you both just had sex.
His chuckles turn into laughter- and you’re only dimly aware of it as he sets you down on a nearby sofa, grabbing a washcloth nearby to start wiping you off.
When you look down at him again- it’s as if he’s seamlessly switched back to the adorable guy you met earlier. Huge, doe eyes and bunny smile on display as he grins happily.
It’s then that you hear the door to the bar being clicked open, and you’re thrown back into reality.
“If you’re done fucking on top of the bar, I think it’d be good if we officially wrap things up around here,” you see a blond man barge through, wearing a poker face despite the words that make even more heat rise up to your cheeks. The connotations of the sentence… you’ll ignore that.
“And I think that included your dick, but okay,” he eyes Jungkook warily. He looks at you for a brief moment, before clicking on his tongue as he shakes his head.
“Anyway, out of this place, both of you, before Seokjin-hyung threatens to kill me again for not being a good enough caretaker.”
“And what exactly were you doing while we were… in here, Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook raises a brow out of suspicion.
“Sleeping. Now hurry up.”
Peals of laughter escape Jungkook, even as both your cheeks redden at being caught.
“Alright, alright,” Jungkook reassures him, before turning back to you. “Let me just finish up cleaning that mess, and we’ll get you home for real,” he tells you softly. Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he lays you down to rest.
“Take a quick nap in the meantime, okay?”
Giggling under the blanket of the dark night, you run under the bright stars as the stars reign the heavens above your heads. With Jungkook hand in hand, you experience freedom like you’ve never felt before.
The gentle breeze of the cold wind at 2 am, in perfect contract to the feel of his warm hand enveloping yours is the sweetest sensation, one of accepting, letting go and moving forward.
You swear you’ve never laughed like you do when you dash through the abandoned streets of neighborhoods too hazy for you to remember in detail. His laugh rings in your ears like the song of an angel, a far cry from your own booming one that he still loves all the same. It’s beautiful, quiet, made for you two alone.
Reaching your apartment, Jungkook helps you into your adorable dragon onesie before tucking you into bed, the softest smile on his face. It hurts a little to leave you so quick, he wants to stay, he wants to spend the night beside you, but for tonight… maybe all that you have done so far is enough.
Maybe once morning arrives, the sunrise announces his fall. Maybe you won’t even remember him.
Thinking so, his trembling hand reaches out to cup your cheek.
Then he stops.
Goodnight, Y/N.
Morning comes. You groggily roll out of bed, heading straight for the kitchen to get yourself a cup of water. Your head is in shambles, too filled to think of anything more, too empty to think of anything less than the sticky note your eyes land on.
It’s stuck to the microwave that’s sitting on the counter, a stupidly lovable green note. Taking careful steps towards it, you peel it off to read what’s written, eyes widening a little.
‘here’s my number! call if you want :D
I also left some hangovers in here.
make sure to eat them and stay safe~
hope to hear from you. xx JK.’
Your heart flutters in excitement and love for the note as you pull it close, hugging it as much as one could a sticky note. You smile softly, hand tracing the curves of the writing, the action all too sweet and unexpected. Running to get your phone that must be somewhere around here, you start to jump around in the search for it out of nervous elation.
There’s so much more you want to do with Jungkook, but - you just can’t wait to hear his gorgeous laugh again.
All rights reserved © 2020 kimtaejin. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed.
#bangtanhq#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#jungkook imagines#jungkook fluff#bts x reader#jungkook x y/n#bts smut#jungkook angst#bts x you#jungkook x you#fic: la luxure
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Bouquet
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: None
Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having come clean about being single for a very long time now and considering herself completely out of the dating scene, Y/N’s confession is taken and responded to with a ton of kindness, especially from a special someone...
Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it was such a joy to write! I’m so sorry for the long wait you had to go through but the fic is finally here and I hope you enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤
I roll out of bed with little to no desire to start my day. We haven’t got a scheduled stream for today and the clouds glooming in the sky seem to be promising rain so really what do I have to get up for except that it’s a rule society installed?
Just kidding, I’m basically stalling and that’s all.
So what happened was the streamer gang and I were playing Among Us last night and our conversation during the pause between rounds somehow swerved into relationship territory. I stayed quiet the majority of if not all the time because I had no valid input to offer.
If you know me you know I’m not one of the performers on the dating scene. I have never really confirmed it with my fans - well, until last night, that is - but I bet they have picked up on that fact considering I’ve been on YouTube for around a decade and have never had a partner. That being said, I’d have to also mention that I have in fact dated but someone but it was before my YouTube era started. Me choosing this career path, which back then was just a hobby, had nothing to do with the relationship ending but it still motivated me to not to actively look for a relationship while I’m still focused on my career. It’s too much work, too much stress and requires a lot of balance I most certainly either don’t have or I don’t have the energy to put in balancing my romantic and professional lives. Luckily, no one’s ever pressured me into finding a significant other, not yet at least, so no societal pressure for me!
But I gotta admit I felt real awkward admitting all this last night.
“Hey Y/N what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet?“ Rae asks, causing me to jolt in my seat from where I’ve been reading my chat for the past five minutes, my mic muted.
I quickly unmute to reply, blushing ever so slightly, “Um, sorry I was reading my chat. What do I think about what?”
“The gesture of giving flowers to your significant other, is it romantic or a waste of money and plant murder?“ Rae explains, still managing to catch me off-guard with her question.
I ponder what my response should be for a little bit before deciding to level it to a neutral level where I almost sound indifferent, “It is in fact plant murder basically and artificial flowers would definitely be a better gift - plus they’ll last longer.”
“Mhmm yeah that’s true.“ Poki agrees with me, “But there’s still the question of whether it’s a romantic gesture or not. I personally don’t think it’s overrated or cheesy, I actually quite like it. What about you, Y/N?“
And now she’s got me in a real trap that I can’t wiggle out of without speaking my truth. I don’t know where this sudden anxiety around the subject came from but it now resides within me rent free and makes me feel self-conscious and embarrassed of the confession I’m inevitably make.
“Um, I wouldn’t know for certain, I’ve never received flowers myself...“ I say sheepishly, cringing at the sound of my own voice, “It’s not like I’ve dated plenty of people and the one guy I did date wasn’t really romantic or anything, I mean - we were teenagers, after all. But when I think about it in theory I think I’d like the gesture: it’s thoughtful, plus you get a temporary but beautiful piece of décor out of it.“
I’m gonna hope I didn’t sound too pitiful or desperate. Of course I’m not gonna check afterward on the stream cause I’d rather live in the illusion of having sounded humorous rather than be given the confirmation that I didn’t.
“Wait, wait, wait, did you date your last boyfriend like a decade ago?“ Corpse is now the one talking and that makes me feel even more anxious. This is not the impression one would want to give to their crush, is it? Oh well, no turning back now.
“Correct.“ I reply with a laugh that I hope didn’t sound as nervous as it was.
“And you’ve never, like in your whole life, received flowers from someone?“ He sounds astonished which sort of makes me want to shrink up in my shell like a turtle. Too bad I don’t have a shell though. I’m genuinely thinking of the option to rip the router out of the outlet right now to save me the troubles but I’m not that immature. I’m surprised I’m even reacting this way - this topic doesn’t usually bother me at all but now for some reason I’m red as a tomato and shrinking in my chair.
I know what the obvious answer is but I’d rather die than admit to it.
“Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds bad but I really don’t care.“ I make an attempt at changing the subject, swerving it back to the main topic rather than my lack of a love life, “I do, in fact, find the gesture sweet - it adds vibrancy to the relationship just like the flowers would add vibrancy and color to the space they’re put in.“
“Oh my gosh, that’s such a cool analogy!“ Rae gushes, “You’re totally right, it might be an old trick, but it’s aged like fine wine.“
Phew, God bless you Rae.
“Exactly, exactly.“ Corpse agrees as well but I don’t think he’s fully heard what Rae said since he sounds to have fallen in deep thought.
At least I got away with it with only making a SLIGHT nervous wreck of myself.
Yikes, was that horrible, though I don’t people will remember it for long. Sure, my fans have sent me thousands of lovely messages and pictures of bouquets and will maybe continue sending them for another day or two - which I highly appreciate, don’t get me wrong. I’m severely touched by this gesture of theirs and it almost makes me glad I finally ‘came clean’ about my romance-less life - however, it’ll fade overtime. I mean, who the heck cares if I’m single or not?
As I pour the milk over my cheerios which I’ve been snacking on dry for the past half hour as I rifled through the many notifications clogging up my lock screen, I hear the doorbell ring. I’m understandably puzzled by this, seeing as how I never get visitors so that doorbell rings only when I’ve ordered something, be it takeout or a random item off Amazon. However, I can’t remember ordering anything, at least not anything that should be arriving at the moment or even anytime soon - that glow-in-the dark curtain isn’t supposed to arrive until next week. I make my way to the door, unbothered by the fact I’m still in my pajamas, and take a look through the peephole.
It’s a delivery guy...and he happens to be holding a huge-ass bouquet.
“What the...“ I mutter to myself as I unlock and swing open the door in the blink of an eye, “Hi?“
“Hi there, are you Y/N L/N?“ The delivery guy, who I’ve seen many times before and who I’m on pretty friendly terms with, asks me jokingly, sending a wink my way.
“I sure am.“ I reply, my gaze fixated on the breathtaking flowers he’s holding, “But those can’t be for me, that’s for sure.“
He fishes looks at his clipboard one more time, nodding before he looks back at me, “I double and triple checked, Y/N, they’re for you. Here, have a look if you don’t believe me.” He turns the clipboard for me to see and he is actually telling the truth. I mean, I doubt he’d have any reason to lie to me but mix-ups happen all the time.
“Um, ok thanks. Sorry for the halt, it’s just...I’d hate to be the recipient of the flowers meant for another girl.” I apologize as I take the bouquet for him, still in awe of the fact I’m the one it was made and meant for and sent to.
I say a quick ‘bye’ to the delivery guy before practically running inside to inspect this bouquet for a card from the sender. I have my guesses: it has to be someone who was present during the stream last night and someone who knows my address. Hopefully it’s someone from my friend group and not a fan who watched the stream and just happens to know my address. I’d still appreciate the gesture, but I’d also install security cameras if that was the case.
Something about the color scheme of the flowers - pink and black - gives me Rae vibes since she constantly teases me about my aesthetics contradicting each other. But then again, Poki does it too so it could be her as well....
Oh...OH GOD IT’S NEITHER OF THEM
~ ~ ~
I’ve been sitting here, keeping myself a safe distance from my phone so I’m not the first one to send her a text. So I don’t ask if she got what I sent her. So I don’t ask what she thought of it, how the bouquet looks in her living room, how it smells, how it makes her feel. I have so many questions so that phone is best off at a major distance from me. I’m the one who’s better off with such a huge distance between me and the device, to be perfectly honest.
Was it a bad idea? Should I have slept on it - or just thought about it longer cause sleep and I don’t get along? Should I have at least waited a day or two? Should I-
My phone vibrates with a notification and I practically fly to it from across the room, grabbing it and unlocking it asap. My heart sinks and takes off like a rocket simultaneously when I see I’ve been tagged in Y/N’s Instagram story. I nervously tap the notification that sends me to the picture of the bouquet I sent her with some text written over it.
“Thank you, Romeo ;)“
Somehow that one sentence answers all those aforementioned questions.
Is this what people refer to as butterflies in one’s stomach? Cause it feels significantly more like a crush...oh wait.
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